Spring is A-Sproinging

Here in South Jersey, we are having middle school weather: very dramatic with sudden, terrible storms, freezing cold mornings and warm, sunny afternoons. I like the transition of seasons more than the actual seasons. Actual seasons are fairly predictable.

This is also the time of year that I make resolutions. I never feel like making resolutions when it's cold and gray outside. All I want to do then is read Russian novels and bake butterscotch brownies. Spring matches a sense of renewal. It's so much more hopeful than sleet.

Today, I'll make two resolutions since more than that overwhelms me.

My first resolution is to make our yard go from:

to:


My second is to actually COMPLETE a novel. I have three novels right now, yup, three, all of which need revision and endings. Annoying, those editors - they won't buy my stuff unless I have an ending.

I keep coming up with 75% of a novel...it's like a disorder. I can't wait to work on this new idea so I skip working on novel A to start novel B. I wonder if having a writing schedule would help. I could clear my throat and announce, "I'm going to write today from two to six." I would march off into my study.

Wait.

I don't have a study. And I never march. Scratch that.

Maybe I should take one of those focus supplements they sell at Rite Aid. They are supposed to help the over 40 folks like me who have the attention span of rabbits. What's weird is I can focus in all other areas of my life; I just want to work on new stuff.

Does this happen to other folks? It's like, "Ohhh, give me that bright and shiny new storyline, and I'll go back to the other one...eventually." Or do you see the current one through to the end?

The Family Vacation and Non Momish Moments

Warmer weather is here, so that means one thing: we are going to embark on a family trip. I always thought I did a pretty good job at planning these, but at a very informal meeting (right after I come back from BJ's with a fresh arsenal of pizza rolls the kids usually herd around the kitchen island), I discovered there may be some problems with my planning.

Before I begin, let me say that it is very difficult to plan lessons for a long time and not try to weave in some kind of theme when planning trips. I have been accused of making family vacations "like something our English teacher would force us to do" and I've been working on that. I keep forgetting that while I think it's amazing fun to go see Edgar Allan Poe's headstone, the kids are like, "Wait, did he write Twilight Zone?"

So for this year's Easter break, we came up with the idea of getting a Philadelphia City Pass that offers tickets to six attractions. Emma wanted the aquarium, I wanted the zoo, Christopher and hubster wanted the National Constitution Center, Philip wanted the Franklin Museum and everyone wanted the double decker bus tour. For the sixth, we had to choose between the National Science Museum and visiting the Eastern Penetentiary which houses Al Capone's cell. Of course, I picked the museum. They just put in a whole new butterfly wing.

"We knew you would," Christopher said, "because you want us to learn on a vacation."

"There are worse things."

"Nope," Emma said, "there aren't. You also make it so we have no time to relax. It's like every two seconds, we have to go somewhere or watch something."

"What did you want to do?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Relax in the hotel. Float in the pool. And you're like, 'Philip, show Emma how to do the back stroke.' "

I do remember saying that.

"So we're going to the penetentiary," Christopher said. "It's supposed to be haunted."

I was worried this would be too dark a destination for Emma. She looked right at me. "I definitely would LOVE to see a ghost. That would be the best vacation ever. A very not Momish vacation."

Momish? I make up words, so I guess I can't say anything.

So after a consensus, we are going to visit Al Capone's cell. Here is a picture of it:


I DID find out that the Eastern Penetentiary was the first place that believed in rehabilitating criminals rather than punishing them. It was based on Quaker beliefs that if you isolated prisoners, they would be able to refect on their crimes in the silence. They even put hoods over their heads when taking them out for meals so they didn't interact with other prisoners.

In fact, I found out a lot of facts about the Eastern Penetentiary, including ghost sightings and lots of legends. I did a little research so they might learn something - a very Momish thing to do.

Prom Season

It is prom season now, even though the proms aren’t until June. All the signs are here along with the return of the robin. The phone is ringing with boys planning who to ask, how to ask, and Christopher’s question to me this morning, “What’s the name of the wrist thingy I have to buy the girl? The flower thing?” Tickets are being bought. Texting is nearly constant.

I never knew boys suffred prom agonies. I remember going shopping with some of my friends and tears in the dressing room. I also remember, in the days when phones were still actually connected to walls, taking turns "listening" to make sure when HE called, someone would answer. We had a schedule because I don't think any of us ever considered the idea that HE might call back...who says teens live in the moment?

I didn’t go to my own prom. I was way, way too cool for Beatles music and dorky boys who couldn’t dance. I think the real reason was I lacked any kind of knowledge about proms. One boy asked me, and I was shocked: not that he asked me, but at the thought that someone as obviously cool and nonconformist as me would go to something so uncool and conventional. (Maybe that was not how the rest of the high school saw me, as about 144 of my friends also used the same self-describing adjectives - we conformed to our non conformity)

I was surprised at how nervous he was. He bought me a hot dog on the lunch line. Then he blurted, "Are you going to the senior prom because you can go with me." Who could resist that invitation? We started talking, and he told me that his mom told him he had to ask at least one girl. I think he knew that I would decline both the hot dog and the invitation.

I think my real fear was more along these lines:

and of course:

I am trying to think of YA novels that feature "the prom", and I can't.I'm not counting Carrie as that was too icky. I mean normal prom moments -
it's such a rite of passage, yet it's another area that is oddly absent from YA lit. Are proms "bigger" now than they were when the YA writers were growing up? Or is it that the female authors are terrified that those dresses (and probably their hair do's) will be published somewhere on the Internet? For that reason alone, I am glad that I will get my prom ya ya's vicariously.

Liar, Liar Reveal

It's time to reveal the truth and how well I fooled you guys - and I don't think I fooled you all that well, except there is some tiny truth to each of these statements. Really tiny in some, and in others, sort of true. But there still is only one true statement.

Here goes:

1. I am writing a novel involving a German shepherd, a teenager, a compass, an enchanted map, and a hidden, mystical land. I am about halfway done and not one, but two agents, are interested in repping it.

Let's see: I have a German shepherd and a couple of teenagers, but no agent or agents.

2. I only have one kidney. I lost the other to gestational diabetes when I was pregnant with my last baby.

I was on insulin during my pregnancies. After Philip was born, I mentioned to a doc that I thought my next baby would be a girl. His response was, "You better be happy with what you have unless you want to lose a kidney."

I changed docs, had Emma and still have both my kidneys.

3. I once told a NYC agent that I didn't want to be represented because I was never going to write novels. At the time he contacted me, I had just begun to write short stories, I had three kids under the age of six, and I couldn't imagine how he could "see" that I was going to become a novelist on the basis of a 1500 word short story. I explained how I could write a page or two a week. I thought he was nuts and stopped returning his phone calls.

This is sadly, 100% true. I did this -- I really did think he was nuts. Later, when I found out who he was, I felt like the biggest dork on the planet. How could I not know? Then again, who knew from agents? At that time, I didn't even know anyone else who wrote.

4. At the age of 15, I rowed almost completely across New York Harbor alongide a ferry boat. I turned around when I saw a Harbor Patrol boat.

This is sorta true. I attempted this, thinking I was the daughter of Poseidon and nothing could happen to me. Ok, so maybe I didn't think I was the daughter of Poseion: I thought more that I was Poseidon. I can say this: the New York City Harbor Patrol knew who I was that summer because I really, really wanted to get across. I got about 80% to Manhattan once. They were on the ball before the age of terrorism.

(And I am very glad my own kids don't read blogs...)

5. One of my best friends is Sam, a transsexual who channels Anna Nicole.

I met a "man" on the Atlantic City boardwalk who does this, but we had one brief, sparkling conversation and I never saw him again. If you are ever stuck for character ideas, I recommend a walk there around six or seven on a hot evening.

6. My oldest son is joining the Navy in July, two weeks after high school graduation.

I have a huge level of respect for people in the military, but a flat screen for his room and a few other incentives to at least try college first have worked so far. I think this is my current, primal fear rather than a true statement (realize that I'm the mom who still asks that his phone stay on while he walks the dog -- I know, I know)

So some truth to some of these, and unfortunately a lotta truth to #3. Then again, I think you have to be as ready for an agent and all that goes with publishing a novel in the same way you have to be ready for having kids. Or maybe I'm just hoping and that's not entirely true...

Awards, Awards

Since Sunday is Oscar day, I thought this would be a good time to pay attention to my blog awards. The Silver Lining Award is from Lisa over at Why A? So many thanks to Lisa.

I like the idea of a silver lining, especially since I'm thinking spring these days despite the record breaking snow in South Jersey.

And here's another award:


It's the Creative Liar Award by Bish. You are supposed to tell six outrageous lies (aren't most lies outrageous?) and one truth, put the award on your blog, thank and link to the person. So thanks to Bish, and here goes.

1. I am writing a novel involving a German shepherd, a teenager, a compass, an enchanted map, and a hidden, mystical land. I am about halfway done and not one, but two agents, are interested in repping it.

2. I only have one kidney. I lost the other to gestational diabetes when I was pregnant with my last baby.

3. I once told a NYC agent that I didn't want to be represented because I was never going to write novels. At the time he contacted me, I had just begun to write short stories, I had three kids under the age of six, and I couldn't imagine how he could "see" that I was going to become a novelist on the basis of a 1500 word short story. I explained how I could write a page or two a week. I thought he was nuts and stopped returning his phone calls.

4. At the age of 15, I rowed almost completely across New York Harbor alongide a ferry boat. I turned around when I saw a Harbor Patrol boat.

5. One of my best friends is Sam, is a transsexual who channels Anna Nicole.

6. My oldest son is joining the Navy in July, two weeks after high school graduation.

Can you spot the one true statement?

Now, onto the nominees. For both awards, I am going to nominate Mary, KC, Katie and Sarah Frances at PlotThis, Marcia and Shelley. They can play if they want; no pressure if they don't.

Let's see who can guess the truth...