A Work in Progress

I seriously thought about writing a blog post about my new dog. Because, hey, that’s a huge deal. A puppy is like a toddler. And a toddler, to any family, can be stressful. But I hadn’t figured out yet if there was a literary angle to this potential puppy post; like if having a dog made me write better, faster or worse, or not at all since I spend more time training, feeding and playing with her than anything else. But I didn’t get to think that far ahead. The blog post wasn’t to be about my dog. Sorry puppy. It was to be about the break-in at my house. Yes, it was the real deal. The thief entered our (locked) home, rifled through our things just hoping for something good. Fortunately for us, and unfortunately for him, we didn’t have anything valuable in the house, other than the kids, and they were both at school. I’m sure he thought he would get in and out scot-free. After all, he had thievery down to a science since he’d just tried the same trick down our street minutes before

Have you ever had a wonderful idea for a book but when you got it on paper, things (i.e. the ENTIRE story) just sort of fell flat? The characters weren’t as deep as you’d like, the storyline not as punchy as you intended and as for actual material, well, just imagining writing another seventy thousand words made you break out into a sweat. If this sounds like you, then stop what you’re doing. This is the part when you don’t force yourself to write all because you though it should be a story. If you do, in a matter of days --if not hours -- you’re going to dread it. Your work will not only become laborious, but the very zeal and gusto you once had for the idea will fall so flat you’ll ponder your sanity for coming up with the idea in the first place. I’ve done this before, and not five thousand words into it, I wondered if there was hope enough that the story would be something even I would want to read in the end. So, what’s the solution? Well, don’t instantly think you have to

Two days before I left for vacation, I was on the phone making reservations for the Polar Express Train Ride .  What is that? Well, it's exactly what the name implies: a train ride based on the book The Polar Express , by Chris Van Allsburg. I'd say that I was only doing this for my children, but that wouldn't totally be accurate. Something with this much hype had to be good for me too. At least I hoped so.  The Polar Express Select cities all over America, and one in Canada, utilize trains (available from their railroad museums or railways) and transform them into replicas from the book -- complete with dancing waiters and hot chocolate. Passengers even get to wear their pajamas. While I’d heard that this was an extraordinary event, one my kids couldn’t miss, what I wasn’t prepared for was the mad dash --the absolute insane intensity-- that every parent in my city dove into on October first at 9 in the morning. It was like getting tickets for the concert of a

Being away in Maui for a week is a little like getting a lobotomy. I can't think rightly or clearly, and no way can I give a passing thought to writing a blog post. This is why it's absolutely perfect timing that I wrote a guest post before I left for vacation which is now at Write for Charity and up today! Below is a little snippet of the blog post. Just like “Autodidact,” the poem that Write for Charity picked for their wonderful book, From the Heart , I wrote “Motherhood is a like a Pacemaker” when one particular day seemed just a bit too overwhelming ; when I wondered if the work I was doing as a mother really counted for much. Like this poem, motherhood sort of transcends the normal, yet is required to keep the normal. There are difficulties that motherhood presents to us at times — and yes, there are happiness and joys, rewards and fulfillment involved too — but the role of a mother is never easy. It always receives, yet it also requires. It always is, bu