Too Many Books

T Top Ten Things I Loved About Being Home Alone      Hubs is traveling for work, so I got the house to myself last night. Daughter is on fall break with her dad... We've lived here about a year and a half, and it was my first night alone since we moved in. 10. The heat. I had it all toasty up in here and there was no one to adjust the thermostat except me. Granted, I woke up in a blistering sweat. 9. The quiet. Delicious, unbridled quiet. I swear, ever since COVID, my noise tolerance has gone down to about a one. 8. A marathon binge of This Is Us. Somehow, I forgot to watch most of Season 5, so mama stayed up late finishing off the season and had a good cry or two. 7. The coffee. No one to share it with = more for me. 6. The food. I ordered this pecan cranberry chicken salad for lunch yesterday that was TO DIE FOR. Then, I got nachos for dinner and ate them on my couch in a judgment free zone. Not that hubs would judge my nacho eating ability - hell, he would have been impressed. 

 T The truth is, I've really been hating my day job. It feels good to say that out loud on the page.  I don't want to tell everyone, but it's sucking the life out of me. However, I'm a real asshole for complaining about it.  I have a good gig. I make a really good salary. I get to be challenged like never before in my fifteen years in the industry. The company I work for (the people who represent it) have given me promotion after promotion, believed in me and allowed me to rise through the ranks to sit where I do today. Which is at home, warm and in my pajamas, because I don't have any client meetings or zoom calls today. The culture itself has always been team oriented.  I no longer have sales goals. I don't have quotas to meet, I don't feel compelled to hit "numbers," and my annual bonus doesn't depend on anything like that.  There is no struggle to fill my fridge, keep the lights on, and no need to think too hard before spending money on all

 T Top Ten COVID Confessions 1) We ordered from Door Dash three separate times this past Sunday. This is not the first time since COVID began that we have made a day of Door Dash meals. For those of you who are curious, we ordered bagels from a local bakery, something for dinner but I forget what, and like eight desserts from a local place. #EatLocal 2) We binged the 4th season of Australian Survivor (streaming on Paramount) in about three days. This took serious dedication, and left my back feeling tight because we watched the majority of it in bed 3) Speaking of bed, we spend many evenings and weekends in bed, literally, especially on Sundays. Hubs likes to watch "Seven Hours" of NFL football, and I'll watch along with him or: nap, read, write. 4) Also speaking of bed, we eat in bed, like, a ton. If my daughter is with her dad, we post up in bed and have had everything from steak to ribs on a white comforter that has seen better days. 5) We re-watched LOST, Fringe, and

 T Therapy session yesterday: in which I try to be honest and then spent the better part of the hour trying not to cry, before finally giving in and letting out choke-sobs and covering my face with my hands. A good cry is so cleansing, but I tend to hold it in other than when I'm watching the Bridges of Madison County for the hundredth time. Tears are also reversed for episodes of This Is Us, sappy commercials (you know the ones) and the ends of books like Elin Hilderbrand's 28 Summers.  For whatever reason, I got that typically masculine gene where I feel like crying is a sign of weakness.  Well, not for whatever reason. It's thanks to complex trauma in my past. Thankfully, my therapist gave me some great homework - reading the first couple of chapters of The Living Legacy of Trauma.  She had me scan through the first chapter in the middle of our session. I wanted to just TALK, but I read through and the bolded beginning really hit home -  "A traumatic event is not ov

 A Anyone else really hard on themselves, or is that just me? (Thank god I have a therapy session at 4:00 today. I could save this for later, but, if feels good to spill this out.)  I mentioned yesterday - I've been so exhausted. I really chalk it up to the new medication, but internally, my self-talk has been off-the-charts negative.  Yeah, so I'm tired and feel like I need a nap to function. So what? Why is that a character flaw? I also took a look at alltheotherreasons I might be tired: I'm not drinking enough water, I'm over-doing it on alcohol and caffeine, I'm eating too many fried foods (and ordering too many meals from Door Dash) and I like, never exercise. Yeah, these are all choices and habits and items I can improve on, but I was essentially telling myself that I pretty much deserve to feel like crap. I sit here with a giant ice water in front of me, and a giant WTF, self?! at the forefront of my brain. You guys have no idea how lucky I am. I have a go

 I  I started a new medication recently, and the side effects are ruining me.  The fatigue started a couple of weeks ago. I feel so tired  all day it's almost like I never wake up. After a full eight hours or more, I'm still needing a cat nap in the middle of the work day - just to get through it.  Thank god I'm still working from home.  When I do have to get out to meet clients, I feel so sleepy behind the wheel. It's not unsafe, it's just unnatural.  Yeah, on occasion insomnia has caused some big problems for my mental well being, and my ability to stay connected to reality -  but this new medication is just making me feel really dull. Yesterday, after sleeping a full eight hours, I had to take two naps. And I still fell asleep around 10 pm, and slept until almost seven this morning.  My only dreams are odd and stressful ones.  I need some inspiration. I'm about to start a Master's in Arts in Writing program, and the last thing I'm feeling is creative.

 M  My 10 year old is a mess. On our ride to school this morning, fog blanketed us in a cozy haze. Her take on it? "It makes us look like we live in a serial-killer-town." She starts making noises and explains, it's a killer coming out of the woods, with a chainsaw! She's so dark.  Gone are the Halloweens of old, where I decide she'll be dressing up as: a lady bug, Piglet, or a puppy dog.  It's been two years or so since she did her own makeup as a zombie prom queen.  And now? She prefers to trick or treat from dad's house instead of mine, and she has her reasons. 1) She has a step-sister at Dad's house. Who doesn't want to trick or treat with your sibling? 2) The houses are "closer together..." 3) She also has a DOG at dad's house. (We're petless over here.) She and her doggo like to dress up in couples' costumes.  So, while my husband and I should have her for Halloween weekend, we'll let her trick or treat as she choose

 B Blogging about my sexcapades is bringing me down. Oh, internet. You all sure seemed to be enjoying it. My blog views are up, but my my spirits are not. Going back to these times in my life is a reminder of where I've come from. Now, I'm a happily married woman, in the most complete and satisfying relationship of my life. It only took me until my late 30's to find him.  Thanks, universe.  I say that with some sarcasm, because why couldn't it have been earlier? I could have avoided so much pain (and literally avoided getting peed on.) Hubs doesn't  care about   mind my sexy blog posts. That said, he doesn't want to read them.  He had a hard enough time with my novel. It's heavily inspired by true events, and some of that was hard for him as a reader. Mom just finished it as well. All she's said is that she's "still processing it." He still 100% supports my writing and my story, in the way that I've told it.  About 1/3 of my queries are

Flirted with my best friends neighbor while we sat on my best friends porch. He'd been out on his own porch drinking and came over to join us.  Of course, I ended up going home with him. I'd planned to stay at my best friends house, so sleeping over one house away seemed like an easy yes, please. It was my daughters weekend to be with her dad, so I had no responsibilities holding me back, and the weekend spread out in front of me with wide open abandon. Paul had a good job in insurance and seemed to be a permanent bachelor who enjoyed the same things I did: drinking and sports.  His home was immaculate. A cleaning lady came to ensure everything was just so, and he had his collared shirts professionally pressed and hung.  We drank our faces off before we started kissing near the pool table. Paul seemed to want to lay me down on it, but also expressed concerned that we might destroy the delicate felt.  Up to bed we went, where orgasms shot through us, though dulled by all the alc

 B Brent Last Name Redacted was so perfect on paper. He was in the health care field, gainfully employeed and in school working on an advanced degree. He was a homewoner, even had a great car. I forget what kind. Some luxury SUV.  We met when I passed him in a bar. A great cover band was playing the Commodores' and we happened to lock eyes while we both belted out Easy Like Sunday Morrr-orrr-orrrn-nin.'  "I love this song!" I shouted at him over the final bars. "I wrote it for you," he answered back, with a shy smile.  He wanted to take me home that night, but my friend told him hell no. She always tried to save me from my one night stands and mistakes, and sometimes, I let her. Brent and I exchanged numbers and spent the next day texting back and forth. We both had plans, but decided to meet up around 9:00 pm at a bar and grill near my house.  Over drinks, we decided we were definitely spending the evening together and he drove me to his house after begging

T The good news is, I don't remember this guy's name, so I don't have to change it to regale you with this story. I started chatting with a rugged looking woodworker on Plenty of Fish.  A note: when I got married in 2008, I completely missed the boat on this idea of online dating. So, after my divorce in 2013 and some failed attempts at dating again, using an app seemed like a novel idea. I mean, this was ALLOWED now?  I was still living with my mother's voice in my head, telling me that I'd end up straight murdered or worse.  So, this guy looked fine, I mean pphhhine, in his online dating photos. And he made custom furniture?! It sounded like I'd just met Aiden and now I'm all Carrie Bradshaw with a perfect date planned. We were supposed to do dinner on Saturday night. Some sort of picnic type thing, maybe? Again, I'm fuzzy on that since it never happened. Friday night, the day before, I'm out with a best friend and we're living it up at our fav

 I  I swiped right on this guy, we'll call him Sean. When he suggested we meet at one of my favorite karaoke bars, I was pretty sure he was the one. Later, when he told me "everyone here tonight sounded really good, including you," I could have sworn I was in love. So, I walk in for my Tinder date and see him. He looks like his photo - tanned complexion, flannel shirt, sideburns. I'm screaming hot with a capital H. We realize we know each other. Sort of. We'd gone to the same high school, but he's younger than me. His brother was in my class and had been my date for the Junior Prom! We finished our last songs, me singing Cowboy Take Me Away and Sean singing something I don't remember.  Then, I let him take me home. Not to mine, mind you. Nor to his.  He called my cell when we were almost there, and he told me to park on the street. Just in case his PARENTS woke up, so they wouldn't spot a car in their driveway.  He sneaked me in through the back entran

 I  I went to high school with a guy who had the same birthday as me: month, day and year. If that doesn't scream kindred spirits, I'm not sure what does. We'll call him Ferris. For whatever reason, I didn't really know him until it was almost time to graduate. Even then, all I really remember is that he had a solo with the Show Choir.  As an aside, how much different might my life have been if I had MADE show choir. The whole thing was rigged. Rigged, I tell you! The choir teacher let this cheerleader in. She had asked for "her note" during the audition and then started on a completely different note because she was tone deaf. Pretty sure the choir teacher was friends with her mom, but I digress.  Listening to Ferris sing To Make You Feel My Love during a school assembly, I may have orgasmed slightly. This scrawny little whip of a guy had a deep, rich Harry Connick Jr thing going on with his voice.  Man, I was obsessed with Hope Floats.  So, after high school

 * * Though they don't deserve it, names have been changed to protect the idiots. The Middle School Crush When I was in middle school I had THE biggest crush on this guy, Loren. He was a soccer player and had that Jonathan Taylor Thomas hair, all floppy and perfect every time he moved. He was a year older than me, but visited my history teachers classroom tons, so I got to swoon and doodle his name on the reg. I think my friends even got the history teacher to try to hook it up, but nothing ever came of it. Imagine my delight when I ran into Loren at a bar as an adult. I use the word adult lightly because I wasn't particularly behaving like one. I was out way too late and had been drinking IDon'tRememberWhat for too long. But, I was at one of my favorite bars, felt right at home, and a cab wouldn't have been out of the question. Enter: Loren. He lived 4 seconds from the bar. I told him about having the Middle School Hots for him and found myself in his bed. Score! Not o

 Y  You guys missed out on so much when I didn't blog from 2011 until like 2019, and then when I didn't blog again from 2019 until now.  I mean, I used to tell ALL the stories.  Here's one you missed. After I got divorced in 2013 Single Leigh was finally free to behave Singularly.  And, oh, I did.  But the problem is, where I used to relish regaling you all with my Tales of Disrepute, I just no longer do. I mean, I kind of want to. I'm on the fence, here, people. I did some bad things.  It's interesting, though. As I wrote those words above, I'm sitting over here living in guilt and shame. The bad things? Those were just casual sex. Am I really still feeling guilt and shame about casual sex?  Jeez Louise.  I'll be back after my next therapy session and tell you guys all about my encounters. 

G Get the Hater Out of Your Head Guys, I used to be a hot mess.  Oh, and I'd share it with y'all on here, generally on Thursdays. #TMIThursday is super triggering for me now. I don't recommend searching for that tag, but I can't stop you, and you'd be entertained. When I started blogging circa 2008 I had just gotten married, but to be honest I did so knowing it probably wouldn't last. For so many reasons, I didn't think I deserved to be happy.  My new husband loved me, in his way, and mostly in good ways. Granted his love came from a place where he thought I was too good for him. And that was one thing we agreed on. When did my self-sabotage start? I used to think it started with him. I'd been unfaithful in previous relationships, so part of me thought I didn't really deserve happiness. If I was simply settling with him, then So Be It, I probably deserved to settle. I'm also stubborn - so, to give myself some credit, I knew I was making a choice.

  W Wedding Day Details: A Photo Blog in no particular order. In fact, these photos go from reception to formal photos to ceremony to getting ready so they are, in fact, in opposite order. Enjoy my reserve wedding! 

E Engagement/ Covid Love Story Part 2 So my darling boyfriend has popped the question just in time for my daughter to get home. She's only nine, she's been out with my parents. I put my hand in the door frame to show off my ring until they notice. My girl is miffed that she missed the action, and makes M propose again in our foyer, demanding he get down on one knee and "do it right." He obliges. I share the news with the internets, and we stay up late celebrating.  Travel We head to Destin around a week after getting engaged in July 2020. Yes, this is well before vaccines and we knew it was risky to head to Florida for my annual family trip. We took every precaution (avoiding crowds, eating only outdoors) and we lucked out - no one gets sick.  In the pool, we play song ideas and my sister recommends a DJ. My fiance gets drunk and tells my dad what a great job he did raising us. It's beautiful. I toy with the idea of a small wedding at our resort in Destin the foll

 C COVID-19, a love story HOUSE We fell in love just before Covid came along, and we moved into our house together in April 2020. We moved into a giant house, like one I'd literally driven past 1000 times since I started driving in 1997, and one that I would see and think, "Man, the people living there must have it all. " I'll be the first to admit, I don't have it all. However, I think I'm close. My husband and I knew each other in high school. We never dated, and we didn't really know each other well or hang out, but it just feels like our souls somehow always knew. It would have been great if his soul had let mine know. Maybe I wouldn't have spent the first two decades of my adult life screwing around. In fairness, I wouldn't have had my daughter if he and I had gotten together sooner, so no harm no foul. Plus, I think our souls needed their wild oats sewn before they were ready to settle down with one another. Nah, I wouldn't change a thing

R Replacement for Mr. Queen Need Not be Right Winged Extremist Honorable School Board, The moms in Oldham County who lean left are having a hard time understanding the board's decision to advise Mr. Cory Queen not to accept his position. While I understand he may have a colorful background, no pun intended, it is a poor look for the board to have appointed him and then discouraged him from continuing on with his placement. He is a loving Volleyball dad who has been married to his beautiful wife for 18 years. Negative backlash? I'm sure he and his family have been dealing with that for 18 years. I'm sure Mr. Queen has been dealing with that his whole life, because he is black. If it isn't about color, it sure appears that way. While I have supported the board and spoken out against the childish and irresponsible behavior of the anti-vaccers and anti-maskers, I am disappointed in what has unfolded. Please do the right thing and appoint a candidate who holds similar values

 A And... breathe. Over 45 days, I've staggered and sent 40 queries. I've tightened and line edited my manuscript. I've shuffled a few chapters around to tell my story in what I am convinced is the best possible way to tell it.  I'm tired.  Yet, not too tired to get up early this morning to hit send on my latest two query letters. Y'all, I think I'm finished querying for the month. 40 feels like a good number. I have 35 outstanding.   My rejections include: 3 form rejections 1 oopsie in which I mixed up Laura's and queried the same agency twice 1 kind, thoughtful rejection (my first one!)   After I write this blog post, what will I do with myself? I'm starting a low-residency MFA program in November. I keep telling myself not to write too much of my sequel so I can work on it during the independent study. But I can't resist!  This morning, I'll read the 2,000 words I have so far, and write at least one more scene.  It will feel good to get going

 T  TOP TEN WAYS I DISTRACT TRY TO DISTRACT MYSELF WHILE QUERYING Y'all, querying is not for the faint of heart. If you're me, you're living in a stress response for an extended amount of time. Every time I check my email, my heart races and my stomach turns, especially during the weekday hours.  That's when I've gotten all four of the rejections that have come my way so far. I staggered, but sent the first batch on and around 7/29. 46 days ago. Over six weeks ago. So, in other words, I'm getting to that point where it's either crickets over here or I actually start seeing feedback pour in. I'm gearing up for both more rejections as well as requests for partials or fulls.  In the meantime I give you my Top 10 distractions from Query Stress, most of which aren't really working, but keep me from sliding into an obsessive-like rabbit-hole on QueryTracker, if nothing else. 10. Bedroom : Good thing I added a content warning. The husband relaxes me. Enoug

 I  Interested in editing services? Please see FAQ: What categories/ genres can I send? I am open to reading PB, CB, MG, YA, NA, and adult.  I'll read any genre other than porn and Christian inspirational. Are we a good fit? If you want a full MS read, we can provide a sample of the first 5 pages (1,250 words) and have a 30 minute zoom call to discuss after feedback is provided.  What if my book is one in a series?  A synopsis of earlier works may help if there is a sweeping plot ARC. If reading the previous books is essential, we will consider it based on availability, for an additional fee.  How are edits completed? Track changes via Microsoft Word is preferable. We use the same Word doc for comments. An overall critique and feedback will also be provided in a separate Word document or via the body of an email. If you have different preferences, please ask. What is the expected time frame to hear back from you? My goal is to respond to emails same day. Turnaround time for complet

W Winter Machine on FB Winter Machine on Twitter So, my husband is talented in both writing, editing and graphic design. His day job is almost as demanding as mine but he somehow found time to create the cover art of my freakin' dreams. While I'm seeking traditional publication, seeing this cover in front of my eyeballs made me further believe - my manuscript is going to become a book!  Just look at it. Just LOOK AT IT. It's so perfect. He's so perfect. I'll wait while you vomit. So, I edit as well... if I (slash we!) can assist you with your own edits, designs, and or work on cover art with you, please check out my business page on facebook or twitter. And now, check out my sweet ass potential cover for RUBBER ERASER SCARS. I mean... is this a parallel universe or did I just actually find and marry a guy who can do this for me, without me even asking? Yup, he's a keeper.

 G Guys, I can't sleep. That's not true. I'm starting to get tired before 11:00 at night, and we usually shut our eyes before midnight. I don't have much trouble falling asleep. It's the STAYING asleep that has been the issue of late. (Late - no pun intended.) Jezel. Peets!  I keep waking up at 5:00 in the morning having to hit the head, which is a manly way for a guy's gal to politely say: I gotta pee. But, then I feel wide awake and figure I might as well spend 3 hours writing or researching agents or sending queries or editing. Then I'll make the coffee after hubs gets up at 8:00, and feel like I've already tackled so much. Which is cool, I guess. But weird. Before I finished my book I liked my 8 hours of sleep. Sometimes 9 if I was feeling lazy or especially if I'd imbibed too much the night before. But, this morning, the sleepy fairy punched me in the face just after 3:00 'ey em.  The bastard.  Can we still say bastard? So, here I sit, bladd

I I was raised Evangelical Christian  in a cult. I'm talking speaking in tongues, passing out at the altar as the minister prayed "over" you, which basically meant a white man would push his sweaty hand into your forehead until you submitted and went down. We went to Our Evangelical Brand church camp every summer. There were six weeks of camp, and - lucky me - the camp for the whole state was in my hometown. One summer, I even volunteered to "work" for all six weeks. The Director or whatever offered to pay me just over one hundred dollars a week. I had the option to get the money deposited into an account in which it could be used for an upcoming missions trip they had planned, or I could have a check Payable to Me.  At sixteen, I needed gas money and lip gloss, so I obviously took the check. Pretty sure Director wasn't thrilled with my choice not to use that $700ish to go to South America. Like, too mad to say anything, but I could see it all over his face.

 M Maybe most debut authors, especially those who write literary fiction, have manuscripts chock full of past pain, or have fictionalized their own life experience in their first books. But I can only speak for myself.  My book is fiction, but the characters, most or all, are based on certain people from my life. Some are an amalgamation of several different people I've known. But then, there's Steve and Carol Lancaster, my MC's mom and dad. When my parents read my book, what will they have to say about the fictionalized versions of themselves? The good news is that they have already read a section of my MS that started as a college short story. So, Dad knows he's a bit "aw, shucks" at times and Mom knows she is painted by the brush of  her young daughter, who's POV we're in. Maybe a bit naïve, certainly a worrier, anxious to the core. Mom and Carol both had their own traumas, and unprocessed pain makes Carol who she is on the page. And that's okay

S Sunday brought me so many breakthroughs in therapy, but I didn't have a session with my therapist or anything. I was just at home all day, socially distancing and self discovering. First, hubs helped me edit my query, which expanded into him helping me edit the opening paragraphs of my manuscript, which expanded into he's on page 122 of 254 right now and it's almost one in the morning. But tomorrow's labor day, and we're off. At first, I had a really hard time with hubs trying to restructure the blurb section of my query. What was weird: I'd paid two editors to help with both my query and my synopsis. A man, for whom I had pushback, and a woman, who took my synopsis from two pages to one - I had no issues with her. Why did I give hubs so much beef? (It wasn't really beef. He knows this isn't easy for me.) My book is personal, and yeah, he was right next door to me on the couch, and my immediate reaction was to defend my position on anything he thought

 I It's my first #PitMad today, guys. All of twitter is atwitter with buzz. Writers are pitching their unpublished manuscripts today on the twatter! And agents are at the ready.  A "like" from an agent means - send me your work. I'm so nervous. There is no holding of my breath - there are SO many writers pitching their work, so I don't expect an agent to notice mine. Not that I wouldn't FALL OFF MY CHAIR if that happened... Yeah, I'm still excited, because I love my pitch and I got quite a few compliments from the internet powers that be, meaning users, meaning the ones I connected with before now. Meaning other writers. Another writer saying, "WOW BESTSELLER, MUCH?!"  I mean. That took my breath away. That's what I want. I just sent my third and final (per the rules) #PitMad pitch out into the internet ether. It's a good feeling - a release.  Most of the queries I have sent have been outstanding for just over a month. I feel like I'm

I I'm in therapy, and I recommend it for everyone.  I always get book recommendations. (Because I'm me, I also give them out to my therapist, but I suppose that's neither here nor there, or just some horn tooting.) Yesterday was a particularly bad Day-Job day. To the tune of, I have been at the deathbeds of two "older folks" within a span of two weeks. I didn't sign up for that. Well, I didn't realize I did.  You'll think I'm in the health care industry - I'm not. There are other jobs that deal with life and end of life, as I have come to learn. So, hi. I'm grieving. I came to love these dang old ladies. Like my own grandma. Who died two years ago, almost to the day. (She passed 9/9/19.) (I was at her deathbed, too.) Anyway, let me just tell you that I was a handful for my therapist yesterday, as I'd just come from the hospital, after driving in shit traffic and shit rain. And I was twenty minutes late, but I knew I needed to be there.

 W When I heard that Romy Newman, President and co-founder of  Fairygodboss  would be presenting a webinar through my Day Job I was stoked. Even the title of the session - The Antidote to Burnout, had me feeling like this was nutrition my poor mind and soul needed. COVID be damned, my day job had gotten stressful. I'm talking lonely and dying little old ladies stressful.  Anywhozers, I didn't have time to listen to the webinar live because of the responsibilities of said day job, and the entire day of that session was one of the most stressful in my entire career. That was August 11th. Yesterday, nearly three weeks later, I finally had made time to listen to the replay. It took three weeks. Talk about needing an Antidote to Burnout. Romy defines burnout as:     "emotional, mental, physical due to prolonged or repeated stress, most often caused by problems at work - but it can also appear in life: parenting, caretaking, romantic relationships." Yup.  This resonated wi

 T To meet Rae Serafina Barker is to discover a dark angel. I call her that because she describes herself as an "underworld journeyer."  And how cool is that?  Her job is to help folks heal and make meaning through grief. This coincides with creating art and deep spaces. I love women who hold space for other women. Rae seems to hold space for everyone. She's like the brunette version of Kristen Bell, or something. Just slightly less bubbly.  Every stinking time I scroll past a Facebook post from Rae, I know I have to stop and prepare myself. Today's most recent post began, "I used to struggle with decisions." Same, sister. I knew I needed to make time to read her post and let it really wash over me and into me, let it sink under my skin. Her posts always need that attention, as they are so chock full of insight and awakenings and awareness. She likes to use a plus sign instead of the word "and." This was hard for me to get used to, but I came to un

I wrote this on Friday the 13th but just now posted it so just pretend it's Friday when you read it, kay? So the last time I blogged I mentioned I’m volunteering at a golf scramble. That was end of July. The scramble is today! We may get rained out, in which case I’d have time free for an eye exam. Tiny blessings from tiny baby Jesus.  Mama needs glasses. In other news, guys, I’m querying! My letter isn’t perfect and no one I’ve paid to entertain me seems to understand my outdated comps. Fine.  The right agent would get them. They aren’t as current but they are all examples of why my book could (cough, pipe dream) become a timeless, ageless classic! Or at least a movie!  I get it.  Agents want to know where my book fits into the current market. But what does that mean?  To sell books now, yes. Of course. But aren’t new people discovering old books for the first time, every damn day? Sigh. I’ve sent 7 queries. Kind of a 5/2 split on original v updated versions of the letter, with ea

 Mother Mary, I'm exhausted. I have worked myself to the bone over the last couple of weeks. Between my day job (I'm on my lunch "hour" right now, boss lady!) and my newfound focus on my writing, I am spent. I'm still waking up before my alarm in the morning, excited for a chance to write/ research/ connect and pursue my dream before I sign on to my other, corporate laptop.  That said, yesterday was amazing. I never thought I would have felt so good - on the first night my husband has been out of town overnight for work. For the first time since COVID, the first time since we got married, the first time since we bought our home in April of 2020. Don't get me wrong, I missed him FIERCLY. But I had such a fun day of making connections. Listen.  *     I met up with a beautiful woman, a professional contact as as well as a friend. We talked about everything under the sun, like we always do. I compared the southern abortion laws to The Handmaid's Tale. She turn

I'm clearly no expert on how to get a novel published because I've only just finishing writing one.But, during the past week I've accomplished quite a lot.   I've tightened up my hook/ blurb  Louisville’s Laurel Lancaster is quickly coming apart at the seams. In her early twenties, her first manic episode crescendos into a two week stay in a mental health facility. While battling to reintegrate back into everyday life, the universe delivers news that may send her further spiraling: her ex-boyfriend is dead in an apparent car accident. Laurel knows better. She must figure out how to cope with a death she believes she caused, and discovers that her only redemption – or perhaps her only punishment – is to keep on living.   Cleaned up my manuscript. It's a little short at 66,000 words, so I'm adding in a chapter  Wrote a synopsis  Added a couple of agents to my dream agent list Found another beta reader and sent my work off to him Wrote a list of questions to be dis

Dividing the hours in the day between my demanding full time job, finishing my manuscript, and trying to build a writer's platform has been a challenge that I have embraced. I wake up before my alarm, excited to roll out of bed and start the day.  I hope the novelty (pun intended!) doesn't wear off. I've gone from 45,000 words to 60,000 words since Sunday - 4 days of writing. Granted, some of these scenes were already written and some of the increase was a mere matter of me fumbling through stained manila folders, the notes app on my phone, some old unpublished blog posts and pulling it together from the cluttered notes I've kept over about 12-13 years of working toward this goal. My brain tends to struggle with organization. The above referenced job has really helped me from a "save this in a folder" standpoint, but in my personal life I find that sometimes I start to get bogged down in a mess of thoughts, ideas, tasks.... and then the brain scramble takes ho

(It's not, actually anymore. Ha! Tricked ya, but I didn't jinx myself. That's how confident I am. I'll be stepping on ALL the sidewalk cracks.) * I'm sitting here with my laptop out, hiding at a corner table on the patio, at this chain bar/restaurant called "World of Beer." I used to come here after work to avoid seeing my boyfriend at the time. I'd sit at the bar, play on my phone, have a few beers - all while he did Crossfit or sat at home, probably as annoyed with me as I was with him. Now, I'm actually racing through this post to hurry and GET home - to my new husband, my soul mate. Per my usual dumb wiring, I considered telling him that my meeting ran long or that I'd had a drink with my colleague, who he's met - and who really was in town from Lexington for the meeting. But she's pregnant. And here's the other thing - I don't have to lie to him. I could also write this post sitting in bed next to him. I've only recentl