Like versus Love

Wednesday, May 30, 2007 by Bethany

There is this thing about loving your job and then LOVING your job. I spend over 8 hours a day pining away at a day job. That day job is a combination of technical writing, marketing, and creating help systems in the form of videos, web pages, and well anything that works to convey technical information to the masses. Sound fun doesn't it?

Well, it is to some people like me. And it is. I like my job. A lot. I work long hours and get done what I have to get done. Sometimes with a bunch of flair and attitude. And other times, just enough to scrape by and move on to the next project. All of which has done me well in my career as a technical writer.

But (and you know one was coming) if you asked me if I loved my job, I can't say yes. Sure I put in extra long hours, go above and beyond the call of duty, and routinely subject myself to more work than humanly possible (all of which gives the impression of a more-than-a-like-my-job-status)--but I am far from LOVING that work.

Really. There's a lot more to it than the projects. What about the 7am conference calls (or even 9pm ones)? What about the day off coordination with other team members? Or performance evaluations/reviews? And hell, I have to look presentable every day I run myself ragged getting my butt to the office? As much as I might seem to enjoy those things--let me be the first to tell you, I am far (far) from it. And since that encompasses my job, it takes the love factor completely out of the picture.

Which brings me to what would be an ideal job. Would it be my novel writing (if I could miraculously make a living doing it)? Maybe a little closer. I'd still have deadlines. And I'd likely still have calls to take and make. Would they be at 7am? Probably not so much. But I'd still be at publishing (as an industry's) whim. I'd still have to produce regularly. And I'd still have to--on occasion--do all those things I don't like so much (and maybe other things I might not like either but not know about).

Am I discrediting writing as the dream profession? Hell no. I wouldn't spend my non day-job hours doing it if I didn't think it would get me just that little bit closer to the LOVE job. But don't snicker at me when the realist jumps to the forefront and reminds the rest of the world the writing isn't as glamorous as it seems. Have you ever tried to completely overhaul (and rewrite) a novel a few times? It definitely wakes you up to what is (and is not) the glamour of writing. And hell, I like what I do. Both during the day and night jobs.

And don't give me hell when I keep griping. I plan on working until I do find the job I love.
Let's just hope that dream Love Job let's me quit the other night time gig too.

Labels: writing life

FROM THE HIPS Blog Tour, Coming Atcha

Tuesday, May 29, 2007 by Bethany

So, I had a baby. No, not the new baby, but approximately four and a half years ago, I became a mother. And boy, was I in the dark. Or at least felt in the dark about motherhood. I'd read at least a dozen books on birth, breastfeeding, parenting, motherhood (journals), but still, was I ready? Hardly.

This is where I wish I'd had FROM THE HIPS a great new book from Rebecca Odes and Ceridwen Morris. Not only does this book just look great (hello? color illustrations and a title that just gives it to you like it is)-it's full of all the stuff you wanted to ask/say/holler/inquire/cry about during everything from the first signs of pregnancy through the first year of the baby's life!

Sure, it's geared towards new first time mothers, but I'll be damned if I didn't sit and read the book cover to cover, scouring over the well placed Anonymom quotes on almost each and every page and nod my head over and over. In fact, after a while, I found it almost sad that so many new moms feel all this stuff and we hardly share the feeling with one another. I mean, pregnancy is not easy. Even for those of us that have "easy" pregnancies. And then birth? Well, let's just simply say: It's a (painful/horrendous/embarrassing/out-of-this-world/any adjective you can think of here) experience. But then AFTER all of this life-changing crap (and a body you hardly recognize anymore) you are thrown into this thing called parenthood. Hell, I would have given my left arm to have a book like this to confirm that, indeed, I really hadn't fallen off the deep end.

So please, just read the Introduction here (it will have you hooked). Or, even better, go to the website and order the book. And to keep you (and the baby) pacified until it arrives, check out The New Mom Blog (hell, I've been reading it on RSS feed now for days. Baby 2 doesn't diminish the 1000 fears that cross your mind). And even better yet read about Rebecca and Ceridwen, women with an honest approach to pregnancy AND parenthood (and let me tell you--they really do cover it all... from conception, good ole sex, impressionable women and their intruding families, as well as how to deal emotionally when the baby just won't fall asleep).

Go. Read. Now.

This post brought to you by (again), the lovely women at MotherTalk. They keep offering up books to review, and hell if I can't keep saying yes! The books are great, and authors even beter.

Labels: blog tour, reviews

The Little and the Big Things

Thursday, May 24, 2007 by Bethany

I used to get caught up in all the little things--the margins and fonts used in the manuscript, the cover art (someday), back copy blurbs, the formats of queries, what to say in cover letters, and how to respond to a response, and how long to wait before following up for all steps of the process--but the longer I have been around writing, the less important any of this seems. It's sorta like the whole one-page resume rule when graduating college. A whole 10 years later, I have a hard time cramming the good stuff into that short of space. And guess what? I don't.

What I'm getting at, is just like any other business, sure there are guidelines and recommended practices. Please follow them. But if this week, you are having a bad week and forget the 1" margins, you'll be forgiven. And shit, if your book is good or in-market right now, you'll snag the agent or publisher. Sorta the old adage-if it is meant to be, it WILL happen.

All these little things are great distractions for the big thing in front of all writers--writing the novel. And believe you me, when I say they are distractions for me as well. But when it comes down to it, the writing must speak for itself. No matter how trite, anal, pretensions, or snobby I sound. The writing is the writing. No matter how you format it and wrap it for presentation. Sure doing the proper things might garner you a few more head turns--so follow these little rules--but it won't sell your book for you.

I'm still in the beginning. I am still an unknown-a wanna be-and a working writer (with a day job), but I do have an agent. And I worked hard to get her. I researched. I scoured Internet sites, I purchased agent-getting books, and I read novels. A lot of novels I loved. I kept my eyes peeled--and I eventually snagged someone who loved my books as much as I did. But that didn't mean I didn't do my homework and work my ass off to get it. In fact, I rewrote an entire novel .

Nothing is that unusual about my story. I don't think that I got *picked up* by an agent that early on in my writing career. And I made God awful mistakes when I started querying. But that is how we learn. And grow. Nor did I take any sort of easy route. I wrote. And I rewrote. And queried. And then did the whole process over again at least three times until I got a yes.

And now I am writing another book. And hopefully another after that. Am I worried about all the little things still--the things that have yet to affect me? Sure, in the back of my twisted little head that is still holding onto the dream. But I am concentrating on what I can make a difference in. And that IS the writing. So, if I can offer any nugget of advice for anyone hoping for any sorta dream: work damn hard at your craft. No matter what it is. And make sure that one thing is as good as you want it to be--or better. And then worry about the little things. Those are easy to fix once the big one is in as good as shape as it can be.

Labels: writing

The best 3 out of 4

by Bethany

Here's a funny little fact: headaches, pregnancy, heat, and work--they really don't meld well together. Especially when you have at least 3 out of the 4 going for you. And it's only Thursday.

Labels: life, pregnancy

I feel pretty! I feel pretty!

Wednesday, May 23, 2007 by Bethany

I've gone off and changed my hair color. I wish I could report I also chopped it into some funky style as well, but a pregnant girl can only handle so much change in one day. Not that I am one that can't handle change (I can, really. Moved to another city for fun, switched jobs, and well decided to become a mom again... that's enough to fill a year's worth of change if you ask me). But the hair? Well something had to be done.

This summer I decided to go a bit more blonde. I've never been blonde in my entire life. Not because I was depriving myself of fun (or at least that is what the antedote says)--but mainly because more than a few of my closest friends (and sister) are blonde. And well... have you seen my eyebrows?

I'm a natural brunette. Dark brunette really and having light colored hair just makes me look odd. Odd and unnatural I suppose if I get right down to it. So no bottle jobs for me! Until today of course. But don't get your hopes up. The hair is so barely blonde you wouldn't notice. not except for the plethora of chunky highlights near the face (I can't live without those).

And you know what? I love it. Hell, with a growing waistline and hardly a piece of clothing to wear that makes me look anything but completely pregnant. A girl has got to do what a girl has got to do to feel pretty.

Labels: hair

Sometimes you just need a kick in the ass

Tuesday, May 22, 2007 by Bethany

It's been a drag-ass spring so far for me. Sitting on two homes til one sells, dealing with a floppy haircut because of a schedule that is just busy enough I'm not willing to squeeze a half hour of salon time, dragging all XXL large clothes from the corners of my wardrobe to stretch over the ever-increasing pregnancy belly, and avoiding a thing called housework for yard work to, you know, keep me busy. And the list of avoidance and procrastination can go on and on... until, well, something sparks the fire.

For me, it was a week ago or so. I felt the need to create. Or a need to do a change-up on a normal routine of work, eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep (oh and cook and childcare, and laundry, pay bills, worry, etc). So I decided to NOT take a nap one afternoon. And then to write some again late in the evening. I started jotting post ideas in my handy-dandy moleskin notebook. And what do you know? It pushed me to actually continue writing the next book. To actually show my agent the first 100 pages (she'd great for a sanity check... make sure the book is worth finishing). And to well, write more consistent blog posts again. Not to mention read the stack of books on my bedside table, finger paint with the kiddo, try cooking a new meal, and even attempt a bit of shopping for the new bod. Hell I even got a hair cut!

But I could feel myself falling away into the routine again. The yearning to veg out and ignore all creative endeavors until I felt... inspired (and between you and me, that doesn't happen very often). Thankfully had a little nudge tonight to get me back on track. Or at least fired up to stay on track. Brainstorming. Talking. Thinking. Combining ideas. And well, just making up shit for the hell of it. A friend needed my assistance--for what she says is my creativity. I didn't have the hear to tell her it had been leaking out of my left ear for weeks and it was likely I had none left. So I agreed. And two hours of chatting later (maybe it was less. I lost track of time), we had a list of ideas. Good ideas. Fun ideas. Ideas I would be proud to call my own--but even happier to hand off for her needs. Because, hell, now I was fired up to work on my own creative endeavors.

And there you have it. An unexpected, but wonderfully needed, kick in the ass back into the swing of things.

Thanks Mo. I'll likely need this treatment weekly. So get ready.

Labels: life, writing

No Baby Talk

Monday, May 21, 2007 by Bethany

"I don't want you to have the baby mom."

What? Did my beloved child just dis the coming child? Oh. My. God. I think my heart just plummeted below the pit of my stomach into the dire straights of my callused heels.

"Why?" Honestly, it was all I could udder/choke/cry before I searched the house for someone else to hear the answer.

"Because you can't go on carnival rides with me. And I want you to go on the roller coasters and spinning rides. The baby won't let you. And that makes me mad."

And it makes me want to laugh. Almost. Until I realize how serious this is for the kiddo. Fun, toys, rides, carnivals, and friends are his life. One that I had to tell him I couldn't join this weekend because of the baby. And all you parents out there know--when the new little one does join us, well, I'll be saying that statement again. I am sure. And boy--it is going to kill some of the good vibes for the kiddo isn't it?

Labels: kid wittisms, motherhood, parenting

BLOG TOUR: LATE NIGHT TALKING by Leslie Schnur

by Bethany

It's blog tour time again here at mommy writer! :-) This time I am tickled pink to promote a fiction book too (thanks to the wonderful women over at MotherTalk who keep asking me to participate in these things)! Being a fiction writer myself, I'm keen on helping promote authors of the same flavor to the public. Hell, I started as an avid reader before I became the writer I am today!

Anyway, that aside, this week's blog tour is for LATE NIGHT TALKING by Leslie Schnur. And let me tell you, Leslie has a story to tell about her venture into authorship (did you know she worked her way up the editorial chain of command from copywriter to editorial director? Really.) It is an amazing tale of events that can be heard...err read from Leslie herself. Check it out here.

But the real goods of the goods is the book itself. And boy is it a fun! I've never worked in radio or broadcasting... but hell if I wouldn't consider the career now. Even if it was midnight shift and on AM radio like Jeannie Sterling, the main character of this fun, fast paced novel that had my nightstand prime spot for about two evenings (I read fast. I've told/warned you). But it isn't just my superficial fascination with all careers revolving around entertainment that kept my nose in this book. It is more the peek inside Jeannie's head. The emotions are real. The thoughts honest. And i just couldn't help but relate to Jeannie. It's like her conscious is another character in the book--which is just fabulous. Because God knows, that little voice that talks to me in my head could write its own book someday. I am sure of it.

Anyway, the book covers everything from family relationships, death of a parent, childhood, love, work/career, and pet peeves (and let me tell you, this is the funniest part of the book). As outlandish and Jeannie appears on the outside, she's human. And that makes the book a definite read.

Please check out Leslie's website. It is fabulously fun--not to mention a draw to buy Leslie's other book THE DOG WATCHER. Her voice is slobbered all over the web site (yes, that is a reference to her love of her dogs). And you can't help but keep rooting for her to become a success with her writing.

And of course, go buy LATE NIGHT TALKING. It will keep you up all night reading (for your convenience, Amazon link here).

Labels: blog tour, MotherTalk, reviews

What NOT to do while I am writing

Thursday, May 17, 2007 by Bethany

Since I write in spits and spurts (meaning, I can't carve out a consistent time of day to sit down and write more than 15 minutes), I regard me writing time as a bit of a guilty pleasure. I make sure the kid is occupied. The husband engaged in some activity that will keep his attention--and as many distractions as far, far away as humanly possible so that I can write. ESPECIALLY when I find myself inspired.

So, if you see my pecking away at the keyboard. Or scribbling away on a notebook, napkin, or scrap of newspaper. Deep in some sort of writing thought, or clearly drowning in my remember these two things:

- Never, ever interrupt me. Unless of course you are under the age of 8 and can't quite take care of yourself. Adults, don't ask me a question. Invite me to comment on the latest sitcom. Bring me a magazine article and expect me to read it that instant. Or comment that I should grab a bite to eat. Because when writing is coming easy. Let it come. And don't interrupt the thought process.

- Ask me to go to bed, make dinner, turn off the computer... well, I guess it is one in the same. Don't interrupt. I'm writing for goodness sake! I can multitask, but not that well. Not when I am driven. Not when the number/page count is growing. NOT when I can make progress on a book that has been sitting stagnant for a while.

So there you have it. Know a writer in your life. Keep these things in mind. It could save your relationship.

Labels: writing life

Crack me up Wednesday

Wednesday, May 16, 2007 by Bethany

"I need my drum! I need my drum!"
...
...

"My foot fell asleep and I need to wake it up."

Labels: kid wittisms

Best Mother's Day Give Ever

Sunday, May 13, 2007 by Bethany

A 2 hour nap. And an afternoon errand/chore/housework free.

Who can ask for more?

Labels: motherhood

Who's judging?

Friday, May 11, 2007 by Bethany

It's Friday night. 10:20pm. My four year old son sipping away at a homemade vanilla milkshake at my side enjoying his last show for the evening. All in a Friday night's routine, I'd say. But not really. It is about an hour an twenty minutes past his normal bedtime.

His normal 9pm bedtime is considered late by most of my parenting friends' standards. One close friend of mine has her kids tucked in and sleeping by 7:30pm... we're only sitting down for dinner! I could blame it on the fact that the husband doesn't get home before 7pm ever. Or the fact that I am a natural night person (as is my husband and the kid). Or the fact that the kiddo has been trained to live my life style more suitably than one that might be better for a kid. But then I remember...

Does it really matter?

No. In this parenting business, you do what works for you. As long as you're children are happy, healthy, and not abused in any way--parent however the hell you want. I won't judge. I mean, my kid sleeps in until 9am or so in the morning. How can I beat that?

Labels: motherhood, parenting

The hype around Sagging Boobs (oh and pregnancy)

Thursday, May 10, 2007 by Bethany

When you think of pregnancy, protruding bellies, stretch marks, varicose veins, enormous (and uncontrollable) appetites, and swollen ankles are considered the norm. Right? But did anyone tell you about the sagging boobs?

Sure, I've always been a bit well endowed (and believe me when I tell you, I'd much rather been the flat girl in junior high. The thunder thighs and bouncing boob comments got old in a whole five seconds). And when I had the kiddo over four years ago, I remember the enlargement. It made even maternity tops do a little stretching. But sagging? Really not something I remember or expected. Hell, I'm like 5 months along and already there are reaching somewhere in the belly button region (that is if my now protruding uterus were not in the way). What is up with that?

If they are getting ready for producing milk (God knows they remember, it's only been... what? 2 and a half years since they were dying for the kiddo to wean), I'm in a helluva lot of trouble. Not only is that much milk going to cause some painful beginning days for me with a new little one--um, I'm concerned I just might fall forward under the weight!

Labels: pregnancy

Book Tour Time: THE DANGEROUS BOOK FOR BOYS by Conn and Hal Iggulden

Wednesday, May 09, 2007 by Bethany

When I was expecting for the first time--I wanted a girl. Why? Knowing what I do now (and wouldn't admit then)--boys are just as adorable. Just as cute. Just as snuggly. And, if I didn't know any better, loved their mom's almost more than life itself (as my son. Just today he told me I was his bestest friend in the whole world and he'd never stop loving me no matter where he is).

But what I really didn't know then--and what scared me silly--was that I didn't know the world of the elusive boy. And even though I am now grown and married and had a son--I still can't say that the male species is any less elusive. Whether it is the cooties they inevitably spread to us girls, or the way the shatter (and then mend) our hearts. It's just a given, we'll never quite understand the male species. Even after you give birth to one.

Which brings me to the real review--The Dangerous Book For Boys by Conn and Hal Iggulden. I've had the fortunate experience to work with the folks at MotherTalk to review a handful of their books. An open call is asked on the blog, and we volunteer our time to read and review all for the "payment" of a book. And this little review is no different. But why I chose this book is a bit of a first for me.

I wanted an IN. You know, the secret to what makes boys tick. What makes a boy a boy. A man a man. Why most would rather spend time holed up in a tree house/office/garage/room and learn about life instead of socializing with the rest of the world. Why a good kick in the leg and punch in the arm can make life more tolerable. Or why a pat on the ass from a teammate is as meaningful at age twenty-three as a hug from a mother at age three for boosting self-esteem. Did the Igguldens reveal the secret?

Well... not really all of them. But they did offer a sneak peak into the mind of what interest the boys in my life. But don't let that discourage your from picking up the book on your own. Because this book had another little treasure I didn't expect.

I started remembering my own childhood.

Sure, it's no secret that I'm a girl. But what is a bit of a secret is that I didn't have any brothers (only a sister). Which means my Dad... well he didn't have any boys to share all these secrets with. So you know what he did? You guessed it. Shared some of these activities with his daughters. We learned how to tell the age of a tree. How to fish for Brooke Trout, Salmon, Pike, and Walleye. We also stared for hours at the various cloud formations, learned to tell the difference between types of trees by their leaves and bark. Followed animal droppings on trails in the forest on camping trips... and well, dipped just one ity bity foot into the world of boys. The Dangerous World of Boys.

And the more I leafed through the book, read chapters here and there, found another tidbit I didn't know... or just that moment remembered, I realized what my Dad gave me. A sense of what it means to be a boy. Or in some cases a grown boy (because we never grow up. Not really). That is the one thing I want you to take away from this review... this book can do the very same thing for you. It will bring back the memories of your childhood. Or give you memories and factoids to share with your own kids.

Not to mention HOURS upon HOURS of activities that can keep even my husband, kiddo, and myself busy til the end of time! I mean who knew in one little book, you could find out about:

Tying knots (and honestly, this is a constant question around here with a 4 year old, string, and various super hero weapons all over the floor. Oh and my son's fascination with sticks).
Bugs and Dinosaurs. Information on the very basics (and then some) for any question that the little dude asks now. And will definitely want to know later when he wants a pet tarantula.
Building Go Carts and Tree houses. This is the husband's department. I'm just a bystander for those activities.
Rules and regulations for stick ball (which from the look around the new neighborhood might be a new favorite past time) and soccer.
How to make secret ink (I think this is in my plans for tomorrow), batteries, little lights, magnets... oh well, every little thing you can think of.
The greatest battles of all times.
The greatest heroes of all time (well maybe not exactly that way.. but some famous people you should know)
stuff about the English language. And God knows, even as a writer, I need all the help I can get with all of that myself.
Information on all 50 states
Pirate flags (even this fascinated me!)
Fossils
And even skipping rocks

See? And I am just skimming the surface. This book is the BOY BIBLE. And if I can say so myself the KID BIBLE. How can it not be? It is chalked full of facts AND fun all in one package. And aside from that, who can sneeze at instructions for building the best of the best tree houses? Whether a mother or a father... this is good stuff!

Anyway, please take a look for yourself. It's fabulous. And a reference I'll be pulling off the shelf for years to come (you know, so I don't make the kiddo look bad in front of all his boy friends). Oh, and don't forget--check out all the virtual goods on this book. It's all fabulous. And clearly on the up and up for buzzing a book online.

- The Fantabulous website
- Totally wicked video trailers
- A cool publisher contest to win free books and badges
- Damn cool interview and appearance on The Colbert Report (Comedy Central)
- The Amazon link with a snazzy (and insightful) interview

Let's rally around our childhood... join the boy's club (even if just spiritually) and check this book out. Honestly, it is a blast from the past. And a much needed reminder that I can be a pretty darn good mom to my son. Oh, and thanks Dad! You really did teach me more than you knew!

Labels: blog tour, Iggulden, reviews

Scraping Knuckles (literally)

Tuesday, May 08, 2007 by Bethany

My hand looks like I stuck it in the garbage disposal, turned it on, shook off the bloody mess, rinsed, and repeated. What, you ask, has caused it such messiness? It's called room re-arrangement and spring cleaning OUTSIDE.

It all started last week (or weekend to be exact). It's spring and that means the weeds have sprung. That also means if you are unfortunate souls like ourselves that currently own two homes (pray to the house selling Gods for me would ya? I need to sell the old house before the baby comes!), you must also upkeep two yards. And I thought this was bad in the wintery months when I was shovelling twice daily! Yard number 1 (officially now called The Old House)... is a glutton for weeds. Some of it is our landscaping of prairie grasses and fields of wildflowers and other prairie goodness that surround it, but others are just plain nature. What can I do if dandelions decided to take over the Earth?

So last weekend was Spring Makeover 2007 at The Old House in all its glory. I weeded. I turned beds. I mulched. I even pruned every bush that bordered the house. And all to my amazement with little nicks on the ole 'hands. That is, until I tackled the south side of the house. (Eyes are rolling here folks). Have you seen these picker weed things? The ones with wide long leaves covered in spines? Yes. Those ones. My hands were cut to no end from those just last weekend. All because I found a whole crop of them and was too pissed off to walk around to the garage for a decent pair of gardening gloves (that I have never before worn in my life).

That was only part one of the traumatic hand incident.

The plan was, really, to do all that spring landscape business LAST weekend, so that this current one (that just past) could be spent relaxing.

Ha!

Well in theory anyway. We tried. Really. But then a family all-or-nothing garage sale happened. And then the good ole' It's Sunday and I really feel like I am being a pregnant sloth, let's re-arrange the kiddo's room set in. And boy did it ever. We moved the bed against the wall in hope (of all hope) the kid will feel "safer" from falling off the bed (though he has never done it) and sleep in his room ALL night long. And then we moved the table to the far wall. And the night stand to near the bed. And--how could a mom forget--that prompted the entire toy re-arrangement. Which in and of itself could cause one a whole day or weariness.

I know you are asking. How did the right hand get chewed up and spit out yet again? Well, that would be the fault of our prickly walls. You know, that damn cheap spray paint crap that gives the walls some spines? Yeah. Try pushing a twin bed against the wall, changing the sheets, and rubbing one's knuckles along that shit. Not once. But say three times (and they say I never learn)! Yeah. Knuckle scraping 102.

So, yes. I wasn't meant to be a gardener. Or a home decorator. And let's even bring it a step further--not meant to keep a house in any fashion. Either that or the pregnancy is taking over every bit of common sense (and resting sense) that I have left. That "nesting" feeling I never got the first time around? Maybe it's taken over this entire pregnancy. Or I am just a klutz. You decide while I tend to mending my broken hand.

Labels: house, life