ON: Getting on With Life

Again, I've been a horrible blogger, but I'm not going to apologize this time.

Instead, I'll try and do better.

Boy Wonder is three weeks old today, and we're still trying to get our routine down. Having a newborn is a huge change for me. It's been almost six years since we had a newborn in our home. Everyone has experienced a learning curve this time around.

For some reason, the first time seemed easier.

Maybe, because the first time, I had nothing to compare it to. I didn't know what to expect, and this time I did. Of course, knowing what to expect doesn't mean things are going to go as expected. Every child is different.

Boy Wonder is no exception.

He's gorgeous, and solid. There is no chub on him other than his cheeks, but he's got some serious weight behind him. If he keeps his body style, he'll be perfect for football. Something I don't even want to contemplate.

However, for the first two weeks he had his schedule backwards. Night was day, and day was night. It was miserable for me. In a house full of early birds, having a night owl proved to be complicated and difficult. When he puts his mind to it, BW can sleep like nobody's business.

He's finally figuring out a better schedule.

Now that things on the sleep schedule front are getting better, I have hopes that we'll get a routine down that will allow me to balance all the other responsibilities in my life. Like writing.

I've missed it.

I realized the other day that a novel I'd written two years ago, but never edited or published, has been niggling at my brain again. The characters want their story told. I hope soon, I can make that a reality for them.

There are also other writing projects I've been sitting on for a while. Some I actually made a little progress on during my maternity sabbatical.

My plan was to have them published before the new year. I'm honest enough with myself to say that is highly unlikely. Getting pregnant and having a baby tend to put a crimp in plans and New Years Goals. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to hit any of those goals mentioned here. Good thing, I'm flexible. That's the thing about goals. They don't go away just because the date changes.

What has been going on in your lives? I'd love to know.

R.S.

On: Reading

I'm usually an incredibly fast reader, but recently I haven't been able to concentrate long enough to actually start a book, let alone finish one.  This is depressing to me.

I love reading, but my brain keeps bouncing from thought to thought. Maybe I need to find something new to read.

I enjoy romantic suspense and murder. Any suggestions on awesome books to read?

R.S.

On Purrfect Storm is Free!

On May 5th, my novelette, Purrfect Storm will be free for twenty-four hours. What a great way to celebrate Cinco de Mayo! If you haven't already downloaded it, you can do it here, and feel free to leave a review. I'd love to know what everyone thinks.

R.S.

On Continual Improvement

Every day is a new day.

A day where I get to decide what's going to happen.

Some days I wake up, and the only thing I want to do is curl in a ball with a good book or two, and an endless supply of chocolate.

Granted, neither of those fit into my current plans.

I hop a plane to Maui in about 37 days, give or take a few hours on either side.

*Squee!*

Okay, I'm calm now, and I've got goals, people!

37 days may seem like a long time, or a short time depending on my current frame of mind. It's long because I haven't seen my best friend in far too long, but it's short because I've got a lot to do before I leave to bask (and quite probably burn) in the sand and sun of Hawaii.

Since the first day of 2012 I've had my eye focused on the prize.

What prize is that you ask?

No, no, it's not a lifetime supply of chocolate that my husband will feed me as I laze by the pool. Though, if you'd like you could send me a lifetime supply of the smooth, sweet goodness. Any chocolate shop owners out there?

*Sigh*

I don't even have a pool, but I've got a whole lot of sand if anyone is interested. If you squint just right it might even look like a beach.

Anyway, the prize is physical and mental fitness. I'm tired of the continual feeling of exhaustion that has plagued me for the last year and a half. I'm tired of not being the healthiest me I can be. Which actually means I haven't really been eating chocolate.

I know, I know, hard to believe, right?

I read everything I can get my hands onto about how to lose that last inch around my waist I want gone. I've done amazing things for my body in the last few years. I dropped over 30 pounds all before the calling in of 2012.

It wasn't enough.

So I gave myself a personal challenge to do 90 days of yoga. Which I mentioned here. I'm still doing amazing with that. Sometimes I even do yoga twice a day. Because of this new routine I feel happier than I have been in a long time, and my core is so much stronger than it's ever been. Plus I can finally do correct push ups.

How awesome is that?

This morning, however, at the beginning of the new day, when the sky was barely pink and the power was still shut off (grrr to the power people and their more and more frequent 'scheduled outages') I decided I needed to do something more to bring my body to the best place it can be, both mentally and physically.

I decided to start running.

*Eeeeek!*

I hate running.

In fact I'd rather do just about anything instead of running.

Oh, you need me to clean your septic tank using nothing more than a mop and bucket? I'm on it!

I'm going to love running.

I want to be able to do things without gasping for breath. I want to firm up my glutes and tighten up the last little bit of skin on my stomach.

I want to shock the running shoes off the Marine.

Today was the first day of my 'couch to 5k' running program.

Not that I'm actually planning to run a 5k, but I'd like to be able to run three miles with the Marine. I'd like to enjoy running like so many other people seem to.

I want to be the best me I can be.

I want to continually improve my mind and body.

Yes, I want a lot of things, I admit that.

The big thing is, I'm willing to work for them and not expect them to just happen.

Hard work never hurt anyone.

In fact, the harder I work for something the better I feel when it all comes together.

I've got about three months until the Marine returns to me again. I think 90 days is a decent amount of time, right?

Wish me luck.

And maybe if I run I can start eating chocolate again. :)

Do you have fitness goals, or any goals you'd like to share? Is there something you hated to do, but you forced yourself to do it? I'd love to hear from you.

R.S.

On A Quick Update

I realized the other day I'd fallen behind on my blogging, and in fact on my social networking altogether.

Someone should give me thirty lashes with a wet noodle.

Or something.

If you're familiar with NCIS (the show, not the actual federal agency), you're familiar with the 'Gibbs Smack'. Let's just say, reality has been known to do that to me a lot recently. Between the Marine's absence, the Munchkin's unhappiness at said absence, the 'day job', and school things have been one hectic day after another.

Did I mention I gave myself a personal 90 day yoga challenge that began on January 1?

I haven't missed a single day, and I'm feeling amazing. I'm not sure it's going to be enough to get me completely swim suit ready before my trip to Maui in April, but I've got hope. I'm already noticing a difference and don't see myself quitting even once my 90 days are up. It's become an integral part of my life.

Anyway, lots of things have been taking up my time, and I've slacked.

It wasn't intentional, I swear.

I'll be better. I will.

Writing is my outlet, it makes me happy and it's my dream future. I'm going to succeed, and in order to do that, I can't forget my networking.

Even when it feels hopeless.

Which it does feel like. A lot.

Especially when I'm never sure I'm reaching my audience. Or anyone at all for that matter. Then sometimes an amazing thing happens, and I get an email from a reader telling me how much they enjoy my blog. I got one of those yesterday. I smiled all day afterwards. Thanks to you, dear reader.

As for writing, I'm half way finished with the first edit of my short story that is still unnamed. On deck is the editing of my YA novel, and the completion of the novel I'm currently working on. Not to mention about a million short story ideas that are sitting in my magick notebook waiting for their chance to be told.

What are you guys up to recently? Anything exciting in your life?

I'd love to hear from you.

R.S.

On Determining Your Reality

When I was much younger I married another much younger guy who I'd been dating throughout high school. Unsurprisingly, we stayed married for about as long as Jessica Simpson and Nic Lachey. What is surprising though, is regardless of all the things that were wrong with our marriage, and all the things that led me to file for divorce when I was barely old enough to legally drink--one of the most fundamental parts of my life, my belief system, came from him.

He and I used to go for long drives and talk about everything and nothing at all. One of the things he'd always say is, "Your focus determines your reality".

A decade later, and I still stand by those words.

Your focus really does determine your reality.

If you focus only on the negative things in life, you'll never see the positive results. If you only focus on what you can't do, you'll never discover what you can do. If you only focus on the unhappiness you feel, you'll never notice the things that bring you happiness.

My husband deploys for months at a time, and if I allowed myself to focus on that I'd sit around sad and depressed all the time. Instead, I focus my mind on other things. I lock my thoughts on the future, on the classes I'm taking, the jewelry I'm designing for my 'day job', on ideas for new short stories and novels (not to mention the actual writing and editing of these), and I pay special attention to the joy I get from the Munchkin.

   
I'm not claiming to never have bouts of depression and melancholy. That would be a lie. I'm just saying I don't let myself stay there.

When I find myself feeling particularly down, frustrated, or angry, I take a few deep breaths and focus on something else. Something positive.

Even if that something positive is that I managed to do another day of yoga, or my back hasn't gone out. Sometimes you just have to grab onto whatever little thing you can. Each day it gets easier to focus on the good and not the bad.

It also helps to have someone to bitch to about all the little annoyances in your life. However, and this is a big HOWEVER, once you've bitched, let it go. Move on and focus on those positive notes.

I want my reality to be bright and positive. Filled with love, and books, and amazing jewelry and crafts I've designed and created.

What will your reality hold?

R.S.

On the Return of My UPS Delivery Guy

I order a lot of things from Amazon. There are certain times of the year (Christmas, birthdays, and whenever I've come up with a new project--writing or otherwise) that it's not unusual for a new package to come several times a week.

Wow, that just makes me sound like a crazy shopaholic, which I'm really not. I swear.

Anyway, I've been spoiled since we moved to the desert, and I've got a nice understanding with the UPS delivery guy. He always rings my doorbell and places my package in my hands, or if it's heavy brings it into the house and places it out of the way. If I'm not home, he'll leave the package at the backdoor of my house so it's not visible from the road.

Recently, however, this stopped happening.

My UPS guy had disappeared, and in his place were a handful of unexceptional delivery guys who'd drop the package on the doorstep (and if they even bothered to ring the bell, ran away like the hounds of Hell were on their heels). Sometimes, the packages weren't even making it all the way to the door, but would be left half way down the walkway, as if by stepping closer than one hundred feet they would be guaranteed an early demise. I'm really not that scary. At least not usually, and rarely to the UPS guys.

This change was undeniably annoying to me.

Plus, I was a little concerned for my friendly guy in brown. Each time there was a new guy, I wondered if maybe my guy in brown had retired. It wasn't like he was a young guy. I'd venture to guess he is anywhere between 60-70 years old. Though, I admit I'm horrible with correctly telling age.

It made me sad to think about.

When you live in the middle of nothing, and you're not exactly the social butterfly, seeing the same delivery person is like seeing an old friend.

Don't knock familiarity.

Especially with the sanctity of Amazon packages. They're like the Holy Grail, Excalibur, and the lost city of Atlantis all wrapped up in a wonderful brown box. ( I really love Amazon. Do you think there's a twelve step program for that?)

Then the other day, I was pleasantly surprised when the doorbell rang, and there he was. Huge Amazon box in hand. It turns out he was on vacation, and the other guys being only temporary, were uncomfortable getting too close because around here they've been getting attacked. (By dogs, not just the lonely ladies who normally attack them because of those brown shorts--and the Amazon packages they carry.)

Aside from the disgust with people purposely setting their dogs loose to attack the UPS and USPS workers (Where is the world heading, I ask). All is once again right with my little slice of the world.

What are your experiences with UPS, USPS, FedEx, etc?

On Books You Should Read

My friend, K.K. Sierra, pointed me to this article this morning while I was trying to figure out exactly WHAT I was going to blog about. The only things happening in my world consist of huge amounts of homework, and intense writing sessions where I try to continually make my writing goals (while not going crazy). November is a stressful month.

Anyway, after reading the article, I decided it was important for me to post my own version of it.

1. Because I've read only about six of the works on here, and I did in fact graduate from high school with no ill effects.

2. Because I'll be the first to tell you, I'm not a fan of the 'Classics'
   2b. Except I did enjoy the original Robin Hood, the Count of Monte Cristo, and Little Women

3. As K.K. and I discussed, I see very little reason a teen needs to read the 25 books listed, because really they have little to do with the way the world is now. There is probably a reason why very few high schools are requiring those books to be read anymore.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a huge, huge, huge-- did I mention HUGE advocate for reading. I've had an intense love affair with the written word since I was four years old and successfully read the I Can Read book, Frog and Toad Together.

I'm also a HUGE advocate for reading what you want as long as there are words in it (though I must include here that I still have a major issue with Comic Books and Graphic Novels because the word count tends to be less than most short stories--but that's just me).

Here is my list of 'must read' books that you'll probably never find on the 'Classics' list or in a school.




Any of the original 'Fairy Tales' by the Brothers Grimm

One For the Money by Janet Evanovich

Twelve Sharp by Janet Evanovich

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants Series (all Four Books) by Ann Brashares

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot

He's Just Not That Into You by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo

L.A. Requim by Robert Crais

I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell by Tucker Max (For a lesson in what NOT to do to be a productive member of society--and to laugh.)

Summer Sisters by Judy Blume

The Root Cellar by Janet Lunn

Mirror Image by Danielle Steel

In Her Shoes by Jennier Weiner

A Time to Kill by John Grisham

The Client by John Grisham

The Warrior Ethos by Steven Pressfield

Doonesbury.com's The Sandbox: Dispatches from Troops in Iraq and Afghanistan

Hot Ice by Nora Roberts

Hot Rocks by Nora Roberts

While My Sister Sleeps by Barbara Delinsky



What are some must reads on your list? I'd love to know. I'm always looking for more novels to read. I've read some other great novels as well, but if I listed everything I've read this post would never get out. :)


And if you're interested, the blog K.K. Sierra wrote about this topic can be found here.



R.S.

On Finding My Niche

The other day I posted about branding myself, and you can read that post here.

While branding myself is important, I realized that at some point in the near future I was going to need to decide who my target audience is. 

Would I write for young adults or for women in the 30+ range. 

I enjoy reading both types of novels, so obviously I couldn't make my decision based on what I read, but maybe I could decide to write both. Maybe in a few months or years I'll have an amazing story that needs to be written that won't work for YA. 

So I'll write it, and I'll use a different name, and I'll really be able to work on that multiple personality disorder. 

For right now though, I've come to a decision. 

I'm going to focus on YA, because that is what  I enjoy most. 

*sigh*

Now I feel better. :)

R.S.

On Learning the Art of Self-Promotion

I remember the first time I had to stand in front of a room full of my peers. It was kindergarten, and it was show-in-tell.

It sucked.

Embarrassment flamed through my body like it should have been a vintage race car a la Grease, and we were racing for pink slips.

I hate being in front of people, explaining something, talking about myself, or in other words, pretending to seem intelligent and interesting.

Most of the time I don't feel like I'm any of those things, and I especially never felt that way as a kid.

Now, I'm an adult, a mother, a wife, a photographer, and an author of two separate novels. One YA and one contemporary.

And I have to promote myself.

That means I have to put myself out there, stand up in front of the proverbial class and explain something, share something, and this time it's even more important and embarrassing than it was the first time all those years ago. Now it's done not just in person, but across dozens of different Social Network platforms. It's done via blog, Twitter, Facebook, Myspace, Email, LinkedIn, and others I can't even remember.

I'm not just sharing something I was given or bought. I'm sharing a part of myself. Hours of worry, sleepless nights, late dinners, and sweat. A part of my soul, my heart, my hopes and dreams, all combined into something a person could say, 'Eh, not interested. Not good enough."

 It's a terrifying prospect.

But, I have to do it, and do it well.

I don't want to push myself on people who won't be interested or will be turned off by the salesman's approach, but I don't want to be so lax nobody will take me seriously. There is such a fine line, and I'm not sure where it even begins, but I know I'll find it.

When I do, I'm going to rock that line like an Earthquake.

So where do I begin?

Any ideas? I'm open to suggestions.


R.S.

On Cloning Myself

Have you ever had one of those days where you realize you're drowning? Maybe not physically, but metaphorically?

I have.

In fact, I've had several, and many of them were this week.

Granted, it's only Tuesday, but there are twenty-four usable hours in every day, and my weeks tend to blend together. The calendar might say Tuesday, but I'm pretty sure it's really Thursday... of next week.

 I'm one of those people who need to constantly be engaged. No, not to a man-- I'm pretty sure my husband would disapprove of that hobby, but mentally. I rarely watch  television or movies because they can't hold my attention for very long, but books I can sit for hours engrossed in.

Why? Because they're engaging. I'm thinking, I'm feeling, I'm actively involved.

This is also true of my 'real' life. My husband has pointed it out--as have others who know me well-- that I tend to overextend myself. I'm not truly happy unless my proverbial plate is so full I can't see around it, and it's threatening to topple over.

How right they are.

Most of the time, this mode of living works well for me. I thrive under the ever changing responsibilities. I grin at the pace, and sleep well at night.

Not always though.

Sometimes, like this last week, the pressure gets to be too much, my heart starts to pound, my head starts to hurt, and I'm afraid the black demon locked inside me is going to escape.

It's a scary thing.

I laden myself down with new and exciting responsibilities; writing a short story, editing and polishing two novels--one YA, one contemporary, a new dog, a summer writing program, shameless self-promotion (that I truly, truly, hate), a training program that requires 90 minutes of working out a day--every day-- numerous blogs, writing groups, and Writers Organizations (RWA, YARWA, SinC, etc) that in order to be useful and worth the yearly dues, need to be used and participated on... the list seems endless, and getting longer.

Days like today, when I feel like I'm drowning, and there is no visible way out of the deep end... I wish I had a clone.

Just not an exact clone.

One who has more patience than I do, is less easily frustrated, and more understanding of her own limitations.

Or maybe I need to learn moderation.

When do you wish you could clone yourself? Or at the very least have more arms?

Speak out. I want to know!

R.S.

On First Jobs

Today my niece takes the next step in becoming a productive member of society.

She begins her first job.

It got me thinking about my first job, and the long line of employment opportunities that came after it.

I've had...well, let's be honest... a lot.

From my first job the summer of my junior year, to finding myself as a writer, I've done just about everything. Honestly, I had a hard time sticking to any job for longer than a couple of months. I'd get bored, annoyed with the stupidity of my coworkers, or I'd find something better.

There was always something better.

My longest job lasted two years, and I was twenty-three. I was a tech-department and cell phone representative for Circuit City--before it went belly up. I stuck with the job for two reasons. One: I needed the money to pay bills, and Two: I felt like I owed them. Not because they were an amazing company to work for, but because when I was at my lowest, the management and my coworkers, had my back.

When I got married, and my husband and I got transferred to Hawaii, I continued my day job. At least until it came time for his first deployment, and I wanted to actually see him before he left to a war zone for seven months. Who knew that large corporations didn't care about things like that?

Art is subjective, and art school was expensive. 

I've worked as a telemarketer, a pizza maker, a soldier, a pageant princess, a substitute teacher for special needs, a dating service counselor, a make-up artist, a model, and my personal 'favorite'--a housekeeper for a small, low class, hotel chain.

I spent five years as a professional photographer, providing tangible memories of weddings, graduations, births, and military reunions-- only to realize my passion for photography was outmatched by my need to not be a portrait photographer. I loved the art of photography, not the cookie cutter, conveyor belt version most of the population expects. After more and more military wives with their new cameras opened up shop as photographers, I threw in the tripod for the focus of photography as art.

I'll never make it rich that way, and I'm okay with that.

After the birth of my daughter I realized something in my life was missing. Not family, or the love of a good man; I had those. I was missing a part of me I hadn't seen since I was eighteen.

The writer.

I was first published in junior high at the ripe old age of thirteen. Nothing spectacular, just a few dark, angst filled poems about the usual teenage drama--though my prose might have been just a tiny bit darker than average. Once I graduated and got away from the hallowed halls of purgatory, I tried to write my first novel.

It was a colossal vat of failure.

Not because it was rejected by publishers, but because I never finished it. I had the story idea, but not enough know how or understanding to complete it.

I found it recently, and it wasn't half bad.

After the demise of my potential writing career I put the dream away for over a decade until one amazing bundle of joy brought that spark back.

You know what? I learned a lot about books in a decade.

I've written three novels in the last year and a half. One needs extensive work before I'll be willing for it to see the light of day, and two of them are going through editing. Whether or not they get picked up via a traditional publisher or I decide to self publish, I know one day, not too far in the future they'll be available for others to enjoy.

It took a while, but I've finally found something I can stick with, and I'm sure, someday, my niece will find her calling too. Until then, I'm proud of her for taking the first step in figuring it out.

Congrats, T-Dawg, you're an adult now.

R.S.