Love Notes

The children got to decorate the front porch, and yard, for Halloween. They then created a carnival style game, beta tested it with each other, and then invited us to try our hand (25 cents for three tries, and a few freebies thrown in).

Then, in an apparent fit of gratitude, they sat down in bed together and wrote us a card. It reads (with a few hearts sprinkled in):

"Dear Mom and Dad.
We love you guys. And girls.
We really, really love you guys.
And girls."

And then, they signed it.

How cool is that?

Back in Biz

Hi all! Hope your Julys were fun/productive. I hoped to be back blogging a week ago but instead went on a writing retreat to a friend's cabin on the far, far side of Missouri, with no internet connection. So my "unplugged" extended an extra week, and just as well! I am now 25K words into my YA dystopian novel. (Pause for self-congratulations here.)

In case you're wondering/jealous, here is how the writing retreat(s) work. I team up with a colleague from work who also likes to write, mostly academically. We go about once a year. The last time we took an entire week and drove to her sister's cabin on the far, far side of Missouri was over two years ago, and I spent it editing my academic book (bleuch!). If we "only" have a 3-day weekend, we instead rent a cabin much closer (but still in Missouri, because it's purdy).

We split the meal plans, and shop for extravagant foodstuffs. We go for a walk every day that weather permits. We get straight to our respective work right after breakfast, break for lunch, and then continue to work until 6pm. Then, we have a glass of wine, compare notes about our day's work/frustrations, make a gourmet feast, and settle in for a movie. My favorite movie of this trip was re-watching Whale Rider, in case you were wondering.

On the way there and back we passed Mansfield, the later life home of Laura Ingalls Wilder, about whom I wrote earlier. We resisted going to visit, because my mother is visiting from the Antipodes later this year, and I would like to see the Ingalls houses for the first time with her and my daughter. Daughter has become entranced by the experience of reading Little House with me this month, and I have the TV pilot for the series awaiting the end of the first book.

I look forward to reading your blogs over the next day or two, and resuming the writing and parenting business as usual!

Daughter's Specs

She looks SO grown up!

Magic!

Son tromped all over Silver Dollar City yesterday refusing to spend his pocket money on Frivolous Items like those his sister bought: slushees, and lollipops. Instead, he remained determined that there was a Magic Shop he remembered from last year, and We Had To Find It.

Won over by his persistence, we backtracked through the entire place, reading maps and getting lost, because that is how one arrives at a Magic Shop. I swear it wasn't there when first we passed by that street.

The resident Store Owner, a Magician named Mark, was very taken with Son's dedication to the craft and his patient deliberations over products for sale, and suggested The Best Buy. Son deliberated further, and agreed on the purchase.

Mark then took Son aside to teach him a Magicians Only trick, going so far as to turn away a customer who came close enough to see. (Being the anxious/responsible sort of mother, I hovered in the doorway, because I don't know Magician Mark.)

Mark said if Son practices and shows him a trick or two on our next visit, Mark will include him in his live show (outside the Magic Shop). Son is ecstatic.

We were waylaid home by severe weather, having to hide out in a bookstore (my choice, of course) until 11pm when the sirens were all turned off before continuing our drive home. Both children were of course up early, wanting to work on their tricks.

I've discovered the best part about having Magician's Apprentices for children: parents are simply not allowed behind the scenes. So I'm looking forward to much time with children behind closed doors working on their Magic Skills, showing up every now and then to be admired!

Springing It

Daughter penned her first poem in bed last night:

Daeses [Daisies] blossim
I do not hear them.
They are sweet.
Boys rock
Somtimes.

**
She also requests: Mom, when [grandma next door] dies, can you and dad move there so me and my husband don't have to drive to see you?

Talent Show

We have been picking ourselves up this week after the Big Birthday Bash last weekend. There's frosting on the blades of the ceiling fans... Oh, the horror. (But a great time was had by all!)

This week's dilemma: the talent show. Which used to be called the school lip synch, but one of the co-organizers this year whose daughter plays the violin finally put in her vote for some actual talent, which is both a relief and a gauntlet.

My kids are undeniably cute and talented. But what talent, exactly, translates to 3 minutes of stage time? "I could skate, and juggle," suggested Son, which would solve the problem beautifully if he could do either of those things already let alone at the same time and in front of an audience.

Lately, if I hush him he quotes somone from Jimmy Neutron: "You have silenced a great talent!" which is funny, but (wince) untrue.

Meanwhile, Son has been anxious about auditioning for the fall show. I pointed out that his father could teach him how to audition: it wasn't something he had to just know how to do. So we settled on a twofer: learn a short audition piece, and perform it for the talent show. His little sister has gamely agreed to be a sidekick, with just one question: "Who will be bossing us?" "Your father. And it's directing."

It's no violin solo, but it'll do.

I Know You Are, But What Am I?

Son, to his sister: I'm bored.
Daughter: I'm bored too. But you're boring.

**

On the writing front there is much labor and sweat and persistence, all of which I understand to be key ingredients. I'm slowly working on the early chapters of a YA novel, and enjoying it a great deal. When I need a break from that, I'm exploring new types of magazine writing, like rebuses: fictional and non-. Thanks to one of my lovely crit group members from Kansas City, who brought a rebus that Highlights had purchased and showed us how they tick, I have had fun playing in those waters! There is craft in keeping to 120 words or so, telling a story, using age leveled vocabulary, and a set ratio of concrete (illustratable) nouns with some repetition. Try one! They're bite-sized wonders.

And have set up a new ms exchange with another SCBWI Kansas City-ite, to swap chapter book drafts. Am enjoying the critiquing there too.

Oh, and have another piece published in the regional quarterly newsletter of the Kansas SCBWI, In the Wind, called "Breaching Decorum," about selective register leaps in children's picture books (December 2009 issue).

I spend some weeks mailing out a lot of pieces. I remember back to working on the doctoral dissertation. One piece of advice that was helpful from another grad student (in computing!) was to do at least one thing a day toward the cause. If that meant buying post-it notes, then so be it. Usually one thing lead to another and another, of course, but sometimes it didn't and post-it notes were the only thing accomplished in a day. Nevertheless, like knitting it came together one stitch at a time. The same mentality (without the luxury of time) worked for the Bluebeard book, the second one written around teaching full-time and having babies and raising them. Some days, only one email got sent out "toward the cause." So now it is with the kidlit writing and editing and mailing. Some days, I just want to play with my binders, put them in order with dividers, and create systems to manage the different genres and communications going back and forth. It never feels like wasted time.

So, before going in to work to complete finals grading, I'm going to work for an hour or so on my novel! Have a great weekend all.

Shakespeare in Love

So Midsummer Night's Dream was gorgeous, in every respect. My two carried themselves beautifully, bien sur! Daughter and her BFF, another 5 year old, wooed and won the audience easily. Son was on stage a bit more as the changeling boy, and also did well. We (I, and mom of daughter's BFF) spent the first three of the four productions (and all rehearsals) in the green room, getting the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern view of the production. It was lovely to be out front and actually see it all from the flip side. It was great spectacle.

And now, we have bona fide theater brats. This minute, they are creating a three-ringed circus, in PJs. Daughter is tech designer and props manager. She has taped elaborate cutouts from construction paper to the legs of chairs tipped upside down. Son has balloons, and a stick. He is trying to kick balloons from a handstand position. He says all he needs now is a hula hoop, and fire, and he'll have a ring of flame... I think they are applause junkies, but have locked away all sources of fire.

And a thank you to wonderful teachers: Mrs G, the kindergarten teacher of our two five year olds (and both their older brothers) who came on Friday night and stayed to adore them for ages after the show, which is why we adore her too; Mrs S and Mrs T, the second- and fourth- grade teachers of both brothers, who also came and were generous with their time. The kids felt so proud to have their own comp tickets to bestow, and felt even prouder when their teachers came. Thank you so much for giving so much!

Not the Hans Christian Andersen Kind

Daughter, pointing to my stockinged feet, screams (literally), and then shrieks:
"You're a mermaid!"
Less concerned with having terrified her, I feel magical.

Double Prizes!

I arrived home yesterday to a box in the middle of the kitchen floor (?!) and found: Books! Mine!! Books wot I wrote! Bluebeard... at last.

And today, was awarded Notable Story Pick of the Week on the Writer's Digest flash-fiction prompt competition!! My first creative writing "award" for a prompt called "Photogenic Stranger." If you're interested, see the link here: http://blog.writersdigest.com/promptly/CategoryView,category,NotableStoryPicks.aspx .