Two Years

This weekend marks the two-year anniversary of when Ibis and I moved to Zihuatanejo and into our condo. When I say I never thought we'd be here that long, that's a mild understatement. We assumed all along that we'd be in Mexico for a year and a half, maybe two years, but when we moved to this town, Ibis had already been in Mexico for six months and me for three.

We've had some amazing experiences since moving here -- enough to fill a book or two, some might say -- and I know we'll take those memories with us wherever we end up. I just really hope we can move on to the memory portion of the deal soon. I'm ready for a change.

A question for you: is there a time period or event in your life that you knew -- while it was happening -- that it would forever influence your life?

We have our nephew again for the weekend so I may not get to your comments as quickly today, and I'll probably skip posting for tomorrow.

Déja Vu!

I mentioned a couple days ago that we're watching a lot of playoff sports right now, but I don't think I made you fully aware JUST HOW MUCH sports are dominating our lives right now. Since we're in the conference finals for basketball there's a game on every night, and we're also trying to see all the Red Wings hockey games. I'm a bad hockey fan and haven't been watching the other series so basketball is winning out.

The Red Wings played Chicago for the Western Conference Championship and they won last night! Woot! It was a fun series since the majority of my friends are back in Chicago and the two teams have a rivalry that goes waaaaaaaaay back. After the way Chicago embarrassed themselves Sunday afternoon, I was happy to see they played a good game and forced the third overtime of the series. Well done.

(Sorry if you're not a sports fan -- I need to get this out of my system.)

Saturday is game one of the Stanley Cup Finals and for the second year in a row we'll be playing the Pittsburgh Penguins. Let the trash talking begin!

(That means you, Melissa.)

Oh, and lest I neglect my husband, congrats to Barcelona on winning the Champions League final against Manchester United! I'm cheering for Nadal at Roland Garros, but Ibis likes Ferderer. Grr...

Like I said, lots of sports...

Gah!

I was all set to write a post about the unexpected side effects of our new hammock -- number one being my bladder is getting stronger because the second one of us gets up the other one steals it -- but then the cockroaches attacked.

I, being the nice wife that I am, was looking for the steel wool to clean a grill pan that Ibis had used for lunch. I opened a drawer and two cockroaches scurried out of a stack of nesting measuring cups. I screeched a little and jumped back, but continued my search. I didn't find the steel wool, but as the drawer was still open, I figured I should make sure there weren't any more inside. I flipped them out of the drawer.

Big mistake.

Apparently they took the name "nesting" too literally.

TEN -- I kid you not, TEN -- cockroaches scrambled out of the stacked cups RIGHT AT ME!! I screamed and jumped out of the way, right into the garbage can that was sitting out. The full garbage can. But I couldn't stop because they were all running my way.

Now here's what I want to know: what the heck kind of creature runs AT a person who, to be fair, should be the scarier of the two (or eleven)?

I already had the bug spray out after the first two, and I went to town. Six died pretty easily -- if you count kicking and squirming for ten minutes easy -- and four more popped out while I was cleaning. At least two got away...

Needless to say I felt like I was losing my mind for the rest of the night. Every time my hair blew across my cheek I was sure one had returned to avenge it's family's death. At one point I felt like something was crawling on my foot and when I looked down there actually WAS another one nearby. That didn't help the hallucinations any.

But -- that didn't stop me from thinking of you, my devoted blog readers. The camera is usually sitting out so I snapped a couple pictures of them as they gasped their final breaths. They don't look nearly as scary in pictures as they are in real life, so I hope you'll be satisfied with a picture of my garbage instead. The black thing on the rug is the "nest."

I apologize for how blurry it is. I was still shaking...


I think maybe I'll stay in the hammock from now on. I know they can fly, but at least I'll see them coming.

Funny, Because I Feel Like I've Read My WIP 500 Times

Over the weekend I decided to reread Donald Maass's Writing the Breakout Novel. I'd hit a bit of a slump with my editing, plus I have a friend reading through my current draft and she brought up several things I'd overlooked. Big theme-type things that I really can't ignore any longer. I've put a few things aside through my various drafts, telling myself that I'll deal with it the next time around. Well, now's that time.

I've come to the realization that Mr. Maass is my muse. Or if not my muse, he's the portal to my muse. I took over three pages of notes while reading, resolved the big theme issues, and came up with a couple ideas I'd never even considered. I spent Saturday and Sunday working these little snippets into my wip and I'm really happy with the improvements.

Ibis has been a good sport, letting me babble at him about different writing bits -- something I try not to do too often -- and when I explained my big breakthrough I nearly smacked myself in the head. It sounded so ... simple. So obvious, in fact, that I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it sooner. Oh well, at least it's in there now.

Now for some bits I marked while reading that really got my wheels turning:

- Are the stakes in your current manuscript as high as they can possibly be? Can you define the stakes right now? Can you point to the exact pages in which the stakes escalate...? (pg. 59)

- Trials and tests are the stuff of character building, of conflict. Ask yourself, who is the one ally your protagonist cannot afford to lose? Kill that character. What is your protagonist's greatest physical asset? Take it away. What is the one article of faith that for your protagonist is sacred? Undermine it. How much time does your protagonist have to solve his main problem? Shorten it. (pg. 78)

- I would like to suggest that if you do not have a moment of unexpected tragedy or grace in your novel, you consider where you might put it. Shatter your protagonist with a tragedy, or give her an unexpected gift. These things happen in real life, and in a novel they lend an enlarged perspective, a sense that the universe is paying attention. (pg. 96)

- Does the protagonist in your current manuscript have a strong inner conflict, or perhaps conflicting sides? If not, why not? Adding aspects of character that cannot easily be reconciled will ensure that your character cannot easily be dismissed. Inner conflict will keep your grip on your reader firm. (pg. 110)

- It is worth remembering that even when deepening some aspect of story, rather than moving the plot forward, it is essential that tension be present on every page. If your heroine and her sidekick are standing still, it ought to be because they disagree. (pg. 192)

- A breakout novelist needs courage, too: the courage to say something passionately. A breakout novelist believes that what she has to say is not just worth saying, but is something that must be said. It is a truth that the world needs to hear, an insight without which we would find ourselves diminished. (pg. 231)

I'm noticing that these excerpts all deal with the larger issues I'm facing right now. Funny how that works. I realize this last one may not apply to most stories, but it definitely applies to mine. I didn't plan for The Other Side to be a message book, but with each successive draft I've realized that's what it is. I don't really know how I feel about that -- I often tell people I never set out to be "the immigration girl" -- but I'm willing to see it through.

I've talked about this book so much over the weekend that one person went out and bought it and another is going to look for it at the library. If you haven't already read it, you should. I'll try to calm down now, but I just love this feeling of it all coming together.

This is also my 500th post -- how fitting it's marking what feels like a milestone in my writing!

Happy Memorial Day!

With both the NBA and NHL playoffs in full swing, we've been watching a lot of sports, and in turn, a lot of American commercials. Two in particular stand out, but for completely opposite reasons.

The first:

The Craftsman automatic hammer that doesn't require you to swing the hammer. The commercial opens saying, "Logic says you can't pound a nail where you can't swing a hammer. So much for logic."

Holy cool.

As the wife of a carpenter I'm especially interested in this, and I foresee this being a part of our household in the future.

The second:

Speed Stick deoderant that asks "What's your pit type?"

The first time I heard it I thought it was an auto racing tie-in. Nope.

It goes on to ask:

- Sweaty?

- Hairy?

- Sensitive?

Are you kidding me?

Now, I worked in advertising for seven years so I know full well the kind of weird, strange, and "outside the box" ideas get tossed around at late-night brainstorm meetings -- especially if alcohol is served -- but we never actually pitched those ideas to our clients. And even if we did, they didn't go along with it.

Maybe they figured any kind of attention is a good thing, but I don't know. Gross.

So, I'm assuming you're all drooling over the hammer. My question for you today is... which one are you? :P

Back to Normal

I had a bit of a breakthrough yesterday with my wip, but I'm going to save that post for Tuesday since I suspect most of you are off frolicking over the long weekend, and I hate when a post gets buried.

Instead I'm going to share a few more pictures with you. Yesterday Ibis and I went to Barra de Potosi, our favorite beach about half an hour's drive south of Zihua. I posted pictures from there when our friend Andy was in town and I'd never seen it busier.

Barra over Easter weekend


This is what it looked like yesterday. (That couple was really going at it for the first half hour we were there.) This is what it normally looks like, and why we like it so much. (Minus the couple, of course.)



If you recall, on Thursday I complained about how hot it is, and how a haze has descended on Zihua.


Well Friday it lifted for a bit just before sunset. This is what it normally looks like. The colors just amaze me, every time.


Finally, the reason Barra is my favorite beach is it's usually deserted, the water is very clear and there are tons of fish, which means the birds go crazy. I can spend the entire afternoon watching them glide over the waves, swoop high into the air, then dive straight into the water, wings tucked to their sides.

Yesterday there was a large school of fish moving across the bay because this flock of birds followed it for ten minutes. Very cool to see.

This Might Help

This won't make it any cooler, but it will certainly make it more bearable.

Ibis likes it too.


We still have to figure out a few logistics, like how does the other person watch TV while one of us is in the hammock, but I trust we'll find a solution.

(I feel like I should host a game of I-Spy with these pictures, lol!)

Do you have anything unique in your house? I already know that Robin has a kitchen painted the colors of a psychotic clown and Turkey has melted ice cream all over her walls (the color, not really ice cream), but does anyone else have something they want to share?

It's Getting Hot in Here

First, thank you to Erica and everyone who commented yesterday. I learned a lot about my regular visitors, as well as those of you who I see around the blogospere. Thanks for stopping by!

Now, as most of you are aware, there's a reason most people don't visit Mexico in the summer (bad economy, drug wars, and swine flu not withstanding): it's HOT. Jungle hot. The type of hot we get for one week in the Midwest that once it's over we slap on our badge that says we suffered through The Sweltering Summer of '09 and prepare for winter. Except it's only May, and I'm already dying.

Ugh.

In the past week it's gone from being a little warmer mid-afternoon as the sun sets into our living room, to holy mother of blazing deserts I think the sun just landed in our living room. And it brought the ocean with it (it's very humid).

Double Ugh.

Ibis swears it wasn't this hot last summer, but I think we've just blocked it out. Either way, I'm back to multiple showers a day, drinking even more water than normal -- so much that I'm thinking I need to mix in a Gatorade every now & then so I don't get water poisoning -- and we've slept with the AC for the past two nights. I think we used it for about two months last year, and not until July or August. I'm a little nervous about what this means for the rest of the summer.

A thick haze arrived earlier this week and has hung around ever since. Normally the mountains on the other side of the bay appear the same color as the trees on this side, but as you can see from this picture, we got moisture in the air.


Fortunately, we have ways to beat the heat. The best? Paletas! They are essentially popcicles, but in addition to water & sugar based ones, they also make them with fresh fruit. Here were have my new favorite flavor, strawberries and cream.


I had to eat it FAST!


(I had to include this picture because of what's on my computer screen. You AW folk should understand.)

Anyone know any stay-cool tricks you'd care to pass along? I'm hoping my body adapts soon because it's been impossible to get any editing done when my brain is dripping out of my ear.

Guest Blog: What Am I Doing In Richmond?

I'd like to give a big welcome to Erica Orloff, also known around my house as "the writer I know who's published a lot of books." Emphasis on the I know part. :)


Erica's blog is one of my favorites because she always finds a way to tie anything in her life to writing, creating wonderful lessons for other writers in the process. I've learned from her than most of my other writing friends combined, and she's also the kind soul who offered a Synopsis Boot Camp a few weeks ago, helping me turn my one-page mess into a two-page masterpiece. Or something like that.

Her latest book, Magickeepers: The Eternal Hourglass, (written as Erica Kirov) debuted this month. The back cover says:

"The one and only Harry Houdini was killed for it, the most powerful magicians have battled for centuries to retrieve it, and even the Ancient Pharoahs feared its power.

What would you do for an hourglass that stopped time?"

*****

Thanks to Melanie for having me. I found her blog through Spy Scribbler's and I have been a big fan ever since.

When my four children and I lived in South Florida, we met many Latino people and felt totally at home. My children's father is Mexican and they have the Mexican surname equivalent to "Smith." People would meet us, and we would have what we called "The Latin Connection"--some sense of shared background or understanding, perhaps. Then we moved to Richmond, Virginia . . . and we have lived here three years and have met TWO Hispanic families--neither Mexican. Occasionally, a schoolmate has said something very ugly about Mexicans to my kids. (I usually refer to it about once a school year as the "Mexican Incident"--it's not a daily thing--but it happens.) Sometimes I wonder "What am I doing in Richmond?"

Which makes me wonder about the role of ancestral culture in my kids' lives. They have a proud nature of their heritage--BOTH sides (Russian/Slav and Mexican). We eat out at Mexican restaurants, and we play Russian folk music in the car. If you asked them about themselves, I would think they would identify themselves as Mexican-Americans, which no doubt incites irritated comments sometimes of "We're ALL Americans, why do people hyphenate?" They hyphenate because they have at times been made to feel different . . . and because their ancestral culture is a piece of them they love and adore. We visited South Florida for Spring Break, and as we drove down the street, I watched my little girl (age 11--spunky as heck) press her face against the windows staring at the sidewalks, teeming with Latinos, and she giggled, "My peeps! I'm here with my people! I missed it here."

When I wrote The Magickeepers, about a rogue clan of Russian magicians who live all together in an enclave of Russian culture within their mystical casino and hotel, it was a nod to memories of my own. Of eating Russian food, and the stories of my grandmother. I had never had Russian characters before in any of my books, but as I went to write my first middle-grade fantasy . . . I found that thread flowed out of me so easily . . . it was just a part of my life. Not my WHOLE life, but a piece of what makes me . . . well, me.

What piece of your family heritage do you still have flowing through you?




*****

Thank you Erica!

"...we have chosen your fiction submission..."

That's right! I got my first acceptance!

*does backflip*

My short story Shipwreck that I posted in April was accepted at flashquake, an online publication, for their Summer issue. It will be online from June 1st through the end of August and I'll post a link as soon as it's up.

In addition to finally having a writing credit to include in my upcoming query letter to agents, I get a CD of the issue AND five dollars!

Six editors vote on submissions and they included their comments in my email. The three that said something beyond "Yes" or "Maybe" said the following: "Engaging", "Beautiful, magical story", and "Nicely told".

I know this isn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but it certainly made me jump up and dance!

Movie Night

I was all set to write another post about editing today, but then we went to the movies last night and saw Grand Torino with Clint Eastwood. Have you seen it? I'd heard bits and pieces, and recalled that it was nominated for an award, but other than that I didn't know much.

Saturday night we went downtown for a celebratory ice cream after I finished my rewrite edits (!!!) and we stopped to chat with the owner of the movie theater. I asked what she had playing in English, she pointed at Clint Eastwood's scraggly mug, and back we went last night.

I wasn't sure what to expect. Clint typically plays hard-nosed guys who are set in their ways and won't listen to anyone, but this role takes that to the extreme. He plays Walt, a racist widower in a poor Detroit (I'm assuming) neighborhood, who hates his Vietnamese neighbors and the priest that his dying wife insisted check in on him.

I don't want to give too much away because it's really good and I think everyone should see it, but the movie follows the developing relationship between Walt and his neighbors, particularly the two teenagers who live next door. Oh, and there's a '72 Grand Torino that hangs out in the backyard. ;)

One warning: if racial epitaphs offend you, make you uncomfortable, or go against everything you stand for (like me), you may find yourself squirming a bit. Well, a lot. But it's done in a way that instead of hating the character, I kept finding similarities between Walt and my deceased grandfather. (Not that my grandfather was mean, Clint just looks a lot like him in this film and I couldn't help but compare the two men.) He's a mean old man, but you can't help but care about him.

As for my edits, I finished the rewrites and now I get to start the close edits. Eek!


*****

Today is the deadline day for Owen's Due Process Legal Fund.

You can read my original post here. A friend of mine from college is taking on his local school board to make sure his autistic son gets the education he deserves, and they need help raising the money to pay their legal fees.

Thank you to any of you who've helped!

The Close Edit

The block party earlier this week must have helped, because on Thursday I cranked past the scene that was troubling me, zoomed past the next one, and ended up getting through four chapters. Yesterday I took the day off to go for a 6K walk with Ibis along a path in Ixtapa (sadly, no pictures) and today I plan to get back into the edits as soon as I work out.

I'm in the middle of a scene that requires more shuffling than rewriting, but I am adding a small detail that will hopefully make the antagonist's actions a little more plausible. The action will take place away from the scene -- and beyond where the MC can see -- so I really just need to set it up. There will be torture involved, but I'll only have to write how the two guys appear when they return to the main group.

After that, I have one more big scene to rewrite. I changed one detail at the end of the first chapter that affects the rest of the story, so that's mainly what I'm fixing right now. I'm also watching for waffling on my MC's part, because in my effort to show him "growing" I think I made him TOO wimpy at the beginning, and he does a lot of flip-flopping between courageous and cowardly.

After this round, comes the close, detailed, poring-over-every-line round of edits. I've never done this before, so any advice would be much appreciated!

Friday Fiesta! (aka More Sounds of Mexico)

I felt a little bad about my post on Wednesday because I just picked a banda song at random for you to listen to. Well have I got a treat for you today! Ibis helped me find songs I actually like and/or songs we sing and/or hear around the house a lot. And/or.

K-Paz is a popular band that played here in Zihuatanejo last year. I didn't go but Ibis said the crowd went nuts. Here's my favorite song of theirs, Procuro Olvidarte:



And my second favorite, Mi Credo (I've sung karaoke to this):



Now for something a little more interesting. Los Karkiks is from our area -- I've seen their tour bus many many times -- and their songs are very addictive. Ibis can actually sing the lyrics and has tried to teach me as a party trick. You know, in case we ever get invited to a party.

Arremangala Arrempujala



And another. Can you imagine hearing this over and over and over? Just try not to sing along! (There goes that sarcasm again, I really need to get a handle on that.)

El Puñetazo



I hope you like at least one of these!

Owen's Due Process Legal Fund - Four Days Left

I'm repeating my post from a couple weeks ago. Arran and his family have almost reached their goal, but not quite. Please help in any way you can, even if it's just to pass along the message.

Thank you.


**********


A friend of mine from college, Arran McWhirter, is at the end of a due process case against the local school district to ensure that his son Owen, who was diagnosed with an Autism Spectrum Disorder in April 2008, receives that which the schools are required to provide him by law -- a Free and Appropriate Public Education.

They have incurred substantial legal fees -- over $150,000. They've already paid nearly $50,000 of that but have a long way to go. They are in the process of taking out loans but it still won't be enough -- they need your help. They have set the amount here to be raised on their site at $10,000-- it is a minimum amount that they hope is attainable by May 17th, 2009. Still, they'd like to raise as much as they can up to $150,000.

Owen's Due Process Legal Fund

The Administrative Judge will make a ruling on the case on May 28th. If they are the prevailing party they may be able to recover some of the legal costs. If they are to prevail and do not need the all of the money raised, whatever is left will be donated to Autism Speaks' advocacy program.

This is from Arran:

When your child is diagnosed with an Autism Spectrum Disorder and you start to read and do research about what s/he needs, one of the first things you learn is just how very important early intervention is to the management/treatment of autism. And not just early intervention, but intense early intervention. When we left Argentina, we did so because we couldn’t get Owen the early intervention services that everyone was telling us were so important for him. We returned to the US because, we, like every other parent of a special needs child, thought that those services would be available. They are available, at an exorbitant cost. And while we were naive to think that the State of North Carolina would provide most of the services, that the federal government under the IDEA act, had provided children like Owen the right to an education. We were wrong.

The short of our story (which is not a unique story by any means) is that while Owen was found eligible for services under his diagnosis of autism and and IEP was written, he was only offered 3 hours of services a week — a far cry from the intense early intervention that researchers, doctors and educators say he needs. We are positive that Owen will be able to enter a typical kindergarten class with his peers when the time comes but in order to get him ready he needs intervention. He’s getting what he needs, of course, because we have no choice but to provide it to him privately. What else are we supposed to do?

When people find out that we hired a lawyer to fight this they think we are crazy. It’s not a fight we can win, I’m told. It’s not a system that can be easily changed, I hear people say. I listen, and I nod, I tell them that I know, I understand, I get it, I do. But, what else am I supposed to do? What else can I do but fight. I fight for my son, for his rights. Isn’t that my job? This is not an easy battle, but neither is the fight against autism. It’s just unfair that you have to do both at the same time.

I know you don't know Arran, but he's a good person who's just trying to do what's best for his son. If there's any way you can help, even if it's just to forward this message along or post it on your own blog, it'd mean a lot to me and his family.

Thank you.

The Sounds of Mexico

Yesterday I emailed Spyscribbler with a musical question because she's a piano teacher (I asked something about an accordion), and through the course of the conversation I sent her a link to a "banda" song. Her reaction cracked me up and made me realize that this is a part of Mexico that I have gotten so used to that it never occurred to me to share.

I describe banda as Mexican polka, but that's mainly because they use an accordion. The dance is kind of bouncy, especially when compared to salsa, but that's the extent of the similarity.

My neighbors play it A LOT and I've gotten so used to it that I really don't even hear it anymore. I even like some of the songs (contrary to what my blogger profile says -- I should probably update that). Ibis gets tired (read: angry) of it much faster than me, but I think it's because I don't really pay attention to the words and therefore don't know exactly what they're saying. He does.

Anyway, I picked this song at random but it is one that I hear from time to time.
I'd LOVE to hear what you think.

Block Party

I'm having a block party and everyone's invited! I've got the basics, but it'd be great if everyone could bring one of the following items:

- writing implement
- Scrabble
- headache potion
- YouTube
- dirty floors
- Facebook
- construction next door
- thesaurus.com
- final box of Samoas that cry inside the freezer
- Dlisted
- hand weights*
- helpful advice that seemed simple three days ago
- Absolute Write
- blogs
- Facebook
- delete key
- undo key
- inability to do things in a non-linear fashion
- flash drive
- delete key
- Facebook
- broom
- dirty dishes
- cute litter of kittens that was born next door
- man selling "pan" (bread) and yelling very loudly
- Dlisted
- Jillian Michael's 30-Day Shred
- novels for leisure reading
- undo key
- ambition


Come one, come all! Also, happy birthday Gramma & Aunt Sue!


*yes, even those are more appealing right now

Slow News Day

Happy Monday everyone. Did you have a nice weekend?

I have literally nothing new to report. Ibis worked all weekend, I did a little editing and watched a couple movies, then dealt with an army of cockroaches taking over my garbage can just as I was heading to bed last night. Man, the sound of them scratching inside the bag as they died a slow, poisonous death was enough to give me nightmares.

*shivers*

But other than that, it was business as usual.

My edits are coming along slower than I'd like and I'm getting frustrated with myself. I keep saying that tomorrow I'll crack down, then today I'll really get a lot done, but I can't get my mind to focus. I have a little more web work to do today so maybe that'll help get my mind in gear.

I posted my latest flash fiction piece on Saturday. If you haven't read it yet, please check it out -- I'd love to hear what you think.

Anything new going on with you? Are you enjoying the warmer weather where you live?

Happy Mother's Day

Happy mother's day to my mom, gramma, sister, cousins, and all my friends with children!

Flash Fiction Fri... er, Saturday

Here's my monthly flash fiction piece. I'd love to hear your feedback in the comments.

*****

Brainstorming

Frankie leaned back in his chair, balancing on two legs. Crumpled balls of yellow paper littered the desk in front of him and spilled to the floor. "This isn't right. We need to capture the yearning that he feels, the ferocity, the desperation."

Jim's fingers twitched over his keyboard, his eyes closed. "But what is he even searching for?"

Frankie rubbed the stubble on his chin. "He failed at something and now he's trying to get back on top."

"A girl broke up with him?"

"No, that's so overdone. Do you really want to write another love song?"

"But that Springfield kid killed last summer with a song about his buddy's girlfriend. We can rip that off."

Frankie shook his head, pressed his fist against his chest. "I can feel it, right here." He looked at Jim. "He lost sight of his dreams, but now he knows he needs to fight to keep them alive. If we can get that urgency into a song, I'm telling you, it'll be gold."

Jim tapped the keys. Heart and Soul. "What have you got so far?"

Frankie twirled a pencil between his fingers. "The center of the storm. Everything's churning all around him but he's calm, in control." He slammed forward in his chair. "He's hungry for the challenge…"

"And he's dangerous!" Jim thrust his fist into the air, fighting a smile.

Frankie scowled, his eyes narrowed. The thread of a thought was dangling right… there… He stretched his mind, curled around the words, tugging, pulling until the string began to unfurl. He knew he was onto something. It was on the tip of his... Hunger. Strength. Like an animal on the prowl. He scribbled the words on a fresh sheet, then stabbed his pencil on the paper. Staccato. He hummed a few notes. Ten beats before the guitar came in.

Jim leaned closer. "Well?"

Frankie held up his hand and stared at spot on the far wall.

Jim moved around the table to read over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah. A cat on the prowl. Stalking in the night." He jumped around the table and gripped the back of his chair. "He's killed off the other predators – his rivals – so now it's just him and his will to survive."

"A cat?"

"Well, not a cat cat, but the spirit of the cat." He pointed at the page. "Can't you just picture it? A ravenous lion stalking through the jungle, so focused on his prey that nothing else matters."

Frankie's pencil skimmed over the page. The heart of a lion. Rising to the challenge of his rivals. He scribbled out what he'd written. Not the heart. What else…

Jim watched quietly. They'd worked together long enough to recognize when the other was on the verge of –

"Eyes!"

"Eyes?"

"The eyes of the lion." Frankie slapped his hands on the table, pounding out the ten beats in his head. "He's the hunter, fighting off his rivals. And what animal but the lion yearns for glory?"

"But a lion?"

Frankie waved his hand. "Or a tiger, whatever. The point is, his eyes hold all the passion. He won't quit until he wins the fight."

Jim tucked his hands on the back of his head. "I don't know. I still say a love song is the way to go."

Frankie threw one of the discarded pages at him. "The next song can be about searching for love, I promise."


*****

If you've made it to the end, please click for my inspiration. The theme was "Eyes", but I didn't want to say before you read it so I wouldn't give away the ending.

Squeaky Wheel

This isn't what I was referring to yesterday, but hey, I'll take it!


When I called immigration last week, the lovely woman there told me to call this Thursday, but didn't say why. When I called in the morning she told me to come in at 12:30 to sign some papers, but again didn't give me much of an explanation. I had to wait half an hour before she finally stuck her head through the window and said she just had to make a copy of my FM3 and then she'd call me back.

I had no idea it was ready!

Back I went, where I signed my name a bazillion times, then stamped my thumbprints all over the place (hence the purple thumb in the picture above). She told me a whole list of rules I need to follow if and when I leave the country, some of which I didn't quite understand, but I assume that as long as I let them know when I plan to leave, there shouldn't be a problem.

Now if only we could do something about that other visa...

This is Getting Old

Pa·tience [pey-shuhns] noun: an ability or willingness to suppress restlessness or annoyance when confronted with delay.

Wait [weyt] verb (used without object): to remain neglected for a time.

Frus·tra·tion [fruh-strey-shuhn] noun: a feeling of dissatisfaction, often accompanied by anxiety or depression, resulting from unfulfilled needs or unresolved problems.

In·com·pe·tent [ĭn-kŏm'pĭ-tənt] adj: Devoid of those qualities requisite for effective conduct or action.


If you have no clue what I'm talking about, click here, for starters. And one more for kicks.


Ca·bin Fe·ver noun: Boredom, restlessness, or irritability that results from a lack of environmental stimulation, as from a prolonged stay in a remote, sparsely populated region or a confined indoor area.


The good news is I'll be well-practiced in waiting by the time I start my agent search, and, fingers crossed, any other wait that comes with the publishing business.

The State of My Wips

I thought I'd share a few things that have been swirling through my mind lately.

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The title for my current wip, The Other Side, comes from a term Mexicans use when talking about the United States. The call it el otro lado, which literally means the other side. Simple, right? I decided on this title over a year ago and since then have been surprised at how often that phrase comes up in normal conversation. Erica Orloff even used it as her sign-off several times during her Synopsis Boot Camp.

Last week Ibis and I visited his family, and while there his dad asked if I'd been to el otro lado recently. It caught me off guard at first, then I had to laugh. I've gotten so used to thinking of it solely as the title of my wip that I'd forgotten I chose it because it's so common.

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I have an unspoken -- well, it was unspoken -- agreement with myself that I will not italicize The Other Side until it's published. Kind of along the lines of not calling myself a writer until I publish something or an author until I publish a book, I don't feel justified referring to my wip as something deserving of proper title treatment.

I suppose I'll have to bend on this when it comes time to query, but I thought I'd let you know why I don't italicize it here.

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Back in November I wrote 60K+ words of a yet-to-be-titled wip about a tragedy that strikes a small-town family and how they deal with the aftermath. (Sheesh, generalize much?) I knew when NaNoWriMo ended that I would set aside that wip -- wherever I happened to be -- and continue working on The Other Side. As many writing friends pointed out, you can't query something that isn't finished, and since I believe in TOS, I really wanted to continue with it.

Well, my brain didn't get the memo that we'd switched stories. At least once a week I find myself daydreaming about my characters, wondering how they are and if we'll be able to pick up where we left off last December. My plan is to jump back into it as soon as I start querying, so I guess it's a good thing that this story hasn't strayed too far.

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For those of you that have been with me since the beginning (of my blog, not my life. Hi mom and gramma!) you know that my writing journey began with a memoir, currently titled What Do You Mean I Can't Wear a Bathing Suit to the Beach? (Notice, again, the non-italicizing.) It tells Ibis and my story of how we ended up in Mexico and the wacky things that have happened since we moved here.

I shared early drafts with a couple people and cringe every time I remember what I subjected them to. (Sorry mom and Jes!) I set it aside a little over a year ago, when we reached the one year mark of living here. By then I'd gotten the idea for The Other Side and I knew it made more sense to wait until we left to finish the memoir. Into the bowels of the computer it went.

But it won't stay there. Little things keep popping into my head: better ways to start it, ideas of what I can cut (chapters and chapters...), and -- dare I say it -- a funnier voice. I don't really understand how the voice, which is MY voice, can suddenly be more amusing, but it's coming out that way.

What's that? How do I know the voice is funnier? Because, um... well. I've written a new opening.

*hangs head*

I know!! What the heck am I doing, right? I'm supposed to be editing The Other Side, then working on Mr. NaNo No Name, then dusting off the memoir. I'm a very linear person, and while I also happen to be a very good multi-tasker, I generally follow the rules I set for myself and happily plod along.

So what's with this new inspiration?

All I can come up with is I've diverted a lot of my creative juices to design lately and maybe that rattled a few things lose that I'd wedged in a corner. Either that or I've truly got a screw loose.

Thoughts? Are you juggling more than one writing project?

Cinco de Mayo & Tourism

Most people celebrate Mexico today, but I bet if you ask them what they're celebrating, they'll shrug and say, "cheap beer?" I always understood Cinco de Mayo to be a celebration of a revolution, or independence, or maybe some battle, but I never really questioned it, I just went out for burritos and Coronas, maybe a margarita or two.

Since living in Mexico I've discovered that Cinco de Mayo is just another day on the calendar. There aren't any big celebrations (that I'm aware of anyway) -- that was last Friday on Primero de Mayo, May 1st. That's Labor Day and everything shuts down in honor of the workers. Of course, since most things were closed for the swine flu it didn't have quite the same significance this year, but there were a lot more tour buses that day and the beach was packed.

"High season" officially ended at the end of Easter week, and Zihuatanejo has become a ghost town. May is typically one of the slowest months for tourism, and then the "nationals" (Mexicans) start arriving in June and stay through the end of August, when the kids go back to school. It's ironic because just when Americans are donning sombreros and slamming back tequila, the celebration is ending here.

We went to dinner the other night at one of our favorite little restaurants and the waiter told us that they'll be closing for a month at the end of May, but "possibly sooner" if it stays this slow. No more burgers for us.

Don't get me wrong, it's nice to not have to fight crowds at the grocery store, and I love being able to find a parking spot at the market, but I feel bad for all the vendors whose busy months have passed. Now they have to somehow get by with no income, at least until the nationals arrive.


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If you haven't already, please take a moment to read my post from Saturday. A friend of mine from college is taking on his local school board to make sure his autistic son gets the education he deserves, and they need help raising the money to pay their legal fees.

Check out his site here:

Owen's Due Process Legal Fund

Editing, Books, and a Little Help

Saturday I officially started my "edits." I've spent the past month -- ugh, that long? -- writing seven new chapters for a subplot I decided to add, and as I finished those last week, it was finally time to get to the real edits.

Chapter One took me most of Saturday and it was only seven pages. Not the best start, but it was also the chapter with the most red ink from my readers. My wip originally started with what's now Chapter Two and I added the new first chapter because the action was actually starting too late (unlike most newbies who start it too early). That meant I'd spent less time tweaking the first chapter, and there were a lot of little details I'd left out.

Yesterday I tweaked some more (I fear this word will quickly dominate my vocabulary) and was all set to move onto Chapter Two when the Red Wings game started. I figured a three-hour break on a Sunday afternoon would be nice, but then they went and played THREE overtimes! In hockey, in the playoffs, overtimes are full-length periods (20 minutes) which means they played over five periods -- close to two full games. Needless to say, I didn't get much editing done after that.

Besides the setback yesterday, I'm really excited to finally be ON with it. I've got my word count to 81K -- woo-hoo! -- and I'm enjoying playing around with things and seeing how much I can improve them. I think I've set it aside long enough that I'm able to cut sentences without cringing, but no word yet on full paragraphs -- or eek! -- pages.

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For those of you paying attention, I set aside Reading Like a Writer and I'm not sure if I'll go back to it. The lessons in the book are great and I can see how I might benefit from it, but I cannot stand the literary examples she uses and that makes it hard to read the book. The entire book consists of these examples, which she then deconstructs. Um, no.

I did, however, LOVE The Time Traveler's Wife. Oh wow, why didn't anyone tell me how GOOD it is? It took me over a week to finish because I was just drinking up the words and sentences, the descriptions, the emotions. It inspired my own writing so much that I'm tempted to keep flipping through it as I work on my edits.

I haven't started reading anything new yet, but I did pull Writing the Breakout Novel off my shelf. Several people have talked about it recently and since it still ranks as my favorite writing book, I figured it can't hurt to re-read the sections I highlighted on the first read.

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Finally, if you haven't already, please take a moment to read my post from Saturday. A friend of mine from college is taking on his local school board to make sure his autistic son gets the education he deserves, and they need help raising the money to pay their legal fees.

Check out his site here:

Owen's Due Process Legal Fund

Owen's Due Process Legal Fund

A friend of mine from college, Arran McWhirter, is at the end of a due process case against the local school district to ensure that his son Owen, who was diagnosed with an Autism Spectrum Disorder in April 2008, receives that which the schools are required to provide him by law -- a Free and Appropriate Public Education.

They have incurred substantial legal fees -- over $150,000. They've already paid nearly $50,000 of that but have a long way to go. They are in the process of taking out loans but it still won't be enough -- they need your help. They have set the amount here to be raised on their site at $10,000-- it is a minimum amount that they hope is attainable by May 17th, 2009. Still, they'd like to raise as much as they can up to $150,000.

Owen's Due Process Legal Fund

The Administrative Judge will make a ruling on the case on May 28th. If they are the prevailing party they may be able to recover some of the legal costs. If they are to prevail and do not need the all of the money raised, whatever is left will be donated to Autism Speaks' advocacy program.

This is from Arran:

When your child is diagnosed with an Autism Spectrum Disorder and you start to read and do research about what s/he needs, one of the first things you learn is just how very important early intervention is to the management/treatment of autism. And not just early intervention, but intense early intervention. When we left Argentina, we did so because we couldn’t get Owen the early intervention services that everyone was telling us were so important for him. We returned to the US because, we, like every other parent of a special needs child, thought that those services would be available. They are available, at an exorbitant cost. And while we were naive to think that the State of North Carolina would provide most of the services, that the federal government under the IDEA act, had provided children like Owen the right to an education. We were wrong.

The short of our story (which is not a unique story by any means) is that while Owen was found eligible for services under his diagnosis of autism and and IEP was written, he was only offered 3 hours of services a week — a far cry from the intense early intervention that researchers, doctors and educators say he needs. We are positive that Owen will be able to enter a typical kindergarten class with his peers when the time comes but in order to get him ready he needs intervention. He’s getting what he needs, of course, because we have no choice but to provide it to him privately. What else are we supposed to do?

When people find out that we hired a lawyer to fight this they think we are crazy. It’s not a fight we can win, I’m told. It’s not a system that can be easily changed, I hear people say. I listen, and I nod, I tell them that I know, I understand, I get it, I do. But, what else am I supposed to do? What else can I do but fight. I fight for my son, for his rights. Isn’t that my job? This is not an easy battle, but neither is the fight against autism. It’s just unfair that you have to do both at the same time.

I know you don't know Arran, but he's a good person who's just trying to do what's best for his son. If there's any way you can help, even if it's just to forward this message along or post it on your own blog, it'd mean a lot to me and his family.

Thank you.

Magickeepers

Today is the release of my blog friend Erica Orloff's (written as Erica Kirov) Magickeepers: The Eternal Hourglass, the first book in her new middle-grade series.

From the back cover:

"The one and only Harry Houdini was killed for it, the most powerful magicians have battled for centuries to retrieve it, and even the Ancient Pharoahs feared its power.

What would you do for an hourglass that stopped time?"

And from the inside flap:

"Nick Rostov's life is borderline embarrassing. His dad is well known as the worst magician in Las Vegas. Nick hasn't had a real friend in years. And his report card is not good at all. One F. Two Cs. One B-minus. And an A. In Health. But on Nick's thirteenth birthday his life changes forever. Awakening on the top floor of the Winter Palace Hotel and Casino, he meets, for the first time, his extended family. A family gifted with the power of magic, real magic, exiled from their native Russia, they now hide in plain sight among the neon lights of the Casino.

All the members of the family are powerful magicians, but Nick is unique. Nick has the sight—the ability to see into the past. His gift is the only way to unravel the mystery of the Eternal Hourglass, a magic artifact so strong it can even stop time. But the family's enemies will stop at nothing to get it. Nick knows that he is in for the adventure of a lifetime. . . if he survives."

Sound cool, eh? I admit I don't read a lot of middle-grade fiction, but I adore Erica and I'm willing to break out of my age bracket for her. Just as soon as I can get my hands on a copy... Now run out and buy a copy, or you know, click one of the links here and buy one online.

Read more on the Magickeepers site.