Too Many Books

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.