A Vocational Duality: Motherhood and Freelancing

Moved

2008-02-10T09:19:00.001-05:00

I'm there now. Please update your bookmarks, Bloglines, or other aggregators!

You can also find me at my website or at my new blog, Cops 2.0.

Moving

2008-02-07T13:08:00.000-05:00

I've been trying to get to this for weeks, and now is as good a time as any...

The blog is moving! Thanks to Creative Construction, I've been able to work with a CMS that I like a lot better. So, sometime in the next week (or maybe two), I'll be moving to this address:

http://freelancemother.wordpress.com/

And will post one more time when it actually happens.

Super Tuesday

2008-02-05T08:45:00.000-05:00

I support Barack Obama, and here's why:

"We let in the serpents and liars, we exchanged shining ideals for a handful of nails and some two-by-fours, and we did it by resorting to the simplest, deepest-seated and readiest method we possess as human beings for trying to make sense of the world: through our fear. America has become a phobocracy."

If you live in a state that's holding its primary today, or even after today, please: read Michael Chabon's excellent op-ed in its entirety. Then go out and be the idealist we need - and vote Obama.

Deadline rebellion

2008-02-04T13:19:00.000-05:00

With a major project due in two days, clients demanding I put their work first, and my new blog in need of some startup posts, I woke up Wednesday with a plan: take as much time as I could to do whatever the boys needed.

See, in the past, I've had a hard time with balance. I can get very focused on work when I have a deadline, to the point where I get snappish and frustrated with anything--or anyone--that distracts me. I've done that often enough with Hamlet to know I needed to try a different tack.

I played with him and Puck all morning. Even though I did have to knuckle down that afternoon, and even though Hamlet acted out because he didn't want me to work, I still feel as if I made a good start. Which is why, on Friday, I rebelled again: with one project complete, I could have gone on to the others. Instead I left the computer off, and spent the day with my boys.

I don't like to generalize and say "The work will always be there." This is true, but specific projects won't be. As a freelancer trying to make a living--not a hobbyist making a little extra spending money--I take my obligations to my clients as seriously as (okay, slightly less than) my obligations as a wife and mother. Anyone with customers and a boss feels the same way.

But it's also important for us to know when to back off. That's why finding family-friendly clients is so important. To be able to say, "I'm working on your project, but it might take some more time than I anticipated--my kids are sick (or clingy, or whatever)" is so critical to any freelance parent's success. I always feel a little weird telling those things to non-parent peers, as if they might think I'm using my kids as an excuse to avoid responsibility.

The fact is, those of us who work from home with kids--especially of the small variety--almost never get a chance to shirk responsibility. True, to rebel against our deadlines is a lot like playing hooky. But it's not like we're going off to the theater to watch movies all day, the mall to go shopping. Having fun with the kids is an investment in business--fun, yes, but also insurance against bad feelings and stress, the creativity-killers.

So, I slacked off work. We all needed it. And you know what? I'm still on schedule.

Support a debut author

2008-01-29T08:40:00.000-05:00

Today, January 29th, is the release date for the trade paperback edition of Patry Francis' debut novel The Liar's Diary. What makes this release different? Unlike most authors, Patry doesn't have the time, energy, or probably the money to market it herself. That's because she's undergoing treatment for an aggressive form cancer.

If I were dealing with this, I'd want my friends and acquaintances in the crime fiction community to come together for me too. Book promotion is hard enough as it is. To work so hard on a novel, to be trying to make a career in a business that's increasingly stacked against us, and then to have book sales jeopardized by something completely out of one's control.... So, even though I don't know Patry personally, I'd like to join 300+ other blogging writers to ask my readers to check out her book. It looks like a good one, going by the Publisher's Weekly review -

A case study in the explosive effects of extreme denial, Francis's debut relies completely on its very unreliable narrator, with mixed results.

- as well as the publisher's promotion:

A chilling tour of troubled minds, THE LIAR’S DIARY questions just how far you’ll go for your family and what dark truths you’d be willing to admit—even to
yourself.

Also, watch The Liar's Diary book trailer here.

Good luck Patry!

Mark Terry talks freelancing

2008-01-28T15:52:00.000-05:00

Not long ago, author and freelancer Mark Terry gave me an interview about his writing. This week, he'll be doing a series that goes in-depth on freelancing. As I wrote him in a comment, I'm thinking about trying to do more with my job, so I'm really looking forward to the series. Go check it out - his first post is all about the different types of writing there are (more in the comments section too).

Giddy

2008-01-26T12:42:00.000-05:00

For the first time in over a year, I can say it: I have the house to myself.

Rain Dog took both boys to his mother's house for a visit. Originally I was going to go too, but I have so much work and he could see how frustrated I was getting with the regular morning routine. His words: "All you'll be doing over there is thinking about what you're not writing, or you'll be on your PDA." I love that man!

I nursed Puck before he left, and he has his sippy cup and whatever food is available over there. Although I was a bit at a loss for what to do - deadline work, fiction, or yes, even some housework! - I've settled on the deadline stuff. If I can make a dent in that, I'll be in much better shape for the coming week.

So here I sit at my desk with my hot chocolate and my favorite work music. It's allll good.

First comes love

2008-01-21T20:21:00.001-05:00

The guilt I sometimes feel over the amount of TV my children watch--and the fact that Hamlet is not, as I was, an early reader--was assuaged somewhat today when I read this article (by way of Kassia Kroszer at Booksquare). To wit:

"We are in a muddle about literacy.... I'm thinking that education itself is in part to blame. Ironically, it may be responsible both for the great blossoming of our literature, and at the same time for leaving so many with the impression that literature is not for them, but the preserve of a certain educated elite. As a consequence, much of our society has become separated from its own stories."

What does this have to do with TV-watching? Well, as we drove home today from Borders, Hamlet asked to see one of the books we had bought him. That book was a Scooby-Doo mystery (a zombie story, no less). He looked at it for at least 20 minutes. And he would not have discovered Scooby-Doo had it not been for TV.

We love reading, but we often find ourselves at a loss for time to do so (largely because we're constantly responding to requests to play, when we aren't working, or cleaning, or taking care of baby brother). For himself, Puck has become quite the little book-lover, and not just because the cardboard tastes great. He'll spend significant blocks of time paging through board books, looking at animals especially, making their sounds.

I can't help but wonder if his interest in books is breaking through Hamlet's somewhat rigid idea that books are only for bedtime, if his car ride request is any indication. Meanwhile, Morpurgo's article tells me that I should back off the letter-writing, phonics, and other "education" and instead focus on the stories. My job, in other words, as a mother and a writer. If TV helps me with that? I'm halfway there.

Art vs. creativity

2008-01-14T11:48:00.001-05:00

Forgive my silence, folks. I've been tinkering with a sort-of new writing schedule per my conversation with Miranda at Creative Construction: not expecting to work during the day, getting most of it done at night. Some days it works better than others, and so I continue to tinker....

On to today's topic. On a parenting forum I belong to, we recently had a friendly debate over the best ways to "teach" art to 4-year-olds who don't seem very interested in it. I was surprised to see replies that told me (to paraphrase), "Art is about creative expression. You can't teach that, and you shouldn't try."

To some extent, I agree--for children who seem naturally inclined to express themselves artistically. For Hamlet, however, the issue is a little more complicated. He's a literal kid who needs to be led. He wants to know how to do things, but he also wants to be able to master them right from the get-go. (He is his mother's son.) And when we sit down to paint or color together, he often ends up watching me--or finding something else to do.

Not that I'm any Van Gogh. But I do paint pictures rather than scribbles: a moonlit field, a blooming cactus (all in tempera, mind you). Having decided he "can't," Hamlet seems interested in learning, but not trying.

Back to the debate. I worried that my pictures somehow stifled his desire to create, to scribble something on paper and declare it a mosquito or a volcano. It was disheartening to find that my friends agreed with my fear. And yet, I wondered, was there a way for me to teach Hamlet some sort of basics--the structure he could then break through to create whatever he wanted?

Because at that point, I wasn't just thinking about him and me. I was thinking about the pervasive teaching that says "creativity" is all that matters, not spelling or grammar or punctuation, or even story structure. (See this article for an interesting perspective on the opposite end of the spectrum. Despite NCLB, Rain Dog continues to see papers that have no sense of structure or rules--but of course, his students were in elementary school before NCLB. I hope teachers are achieving better balance as my boys get ready to enter school.)

The creativity-first argument makes even more sense when viewed in light of genre, and literary, purists who sneer at blurred lines. A spec fiction author can't write crime fiction; romance writers must retain their credibility only by following strict guidelines. And the artists rebel.

But those are arbitrary rules, not fundamentals of language. When our words don't make sense to those who read them, then we fail to communicate. And, while true that the work of abstract artists is sometimes hard to interpret, even those artists first learned the rules before they broke them.

One mother suggested helping Hamlet practice basic shapes. Ah, I thought. His Ice Age: The Meltdown video has a short bonus segment in which animator Peter de Seve describes how he uses basic shapes to draw Sid. For my literal kid, that may be just what he needs.

Pondering a career

2008-01-02T16:49:00.000-05:00

Ten years ago this June, I was hired for my first full-time job: tech support on the Help Desk for the University of New Hampshire.

It was a job that taught me a lot about myself and most definitely led to the place I'm at now (including in one very unexpected way, which I'll explain in a moment). By 2000, I'd started to think I didn't want this career path anymore. The office politics were getting me down. My new husband and I were starting to talk kids, and I knew I didn't want to have to leave a 6-week-old in daycare to commute two hours every day. A lot of people I knew had given up on their dreams to follow the stability of a steady job. My boss's boss, for one, had a Ph.D. in Forestry. He'd been in computing since I'd been a student. I can only assume he stayed where he was to support his family.

Meanwhile, a couple of guys I knew were still actively pursuing their dreams. Martin England worked part-time on the loading dock, stocking computers and peripherals for the campus store. With the other part of his time, he was writing songs for his band, Pondering Judd. Likewise with two of the workstudy students on the Help Desk (Short Bus band member Pat Curry now plays with The Whatnot).

By then I knew I wanted to write for a living, so I began to look for a way to go part-time. Miraculously, a part-time coworker was looking for a way to earn more money but keep her mother's hours. My 80% time job fit her needs. Her 50% job fit mine. We switched, and I started to write. A year later, I decided to quit for good and write full-time.

In a startling example of things coming full circle, Pondering Judd has once again led to work for me. Last month I submitted a story to Shroud Magazine, a new horror market. Editor Tim Deal checked out my website, where my bio notes Marty's influence. It turned out that Tim had been involved in the Seacoast New Hampshire indie music scene. Not only did he know Marty, he also knew at least one of the workstudy students I'd worked with. Also, he'd worked as a cop, and we share a fascination with zombies. So, he asked, would I consider working as Shroud's assistant editor? Absolutely.

It strikes me that most of my jobs have come about because of people I know. A former associate editor I once worked for recommended me to the PR agency I work for. Editing for New Leaf came about because of a friend who worked with the owner. And I can’t count the number of contacts I’ve made through the crime fiction community.

This year, along with my PR work, I'll be blogging for a startup Maine parenting site, writing articles for its companion magazine, and working on Shroud. I'll also continue with fiction, and, of course this blog. In fact, another one of my contacts recently invited me to join a Wordpress community of other creative moms. (It’s live – come join us!)

It's funny, because as introverted as I am, I've still met a lot of people whose help has moved my career along nicely. I've even been able to make recommendations for people I know, to pay forward all the favors I've received. If there's one thing besides talent I would want to mark my career--that would be it.

My only resolution in the new year

2007-12-31T12:24:00.000-05:00

All right, admittedly, I have a few. But they're the usual, the ones I have throughout the year: write more. Make more of an effort to play with my kids. Eat better, exercise, be kinder to myself. Me, me, me.

This post from Cranky Mama made me sit up and take notice, especially this part:

Because, when I was a poor kid (and I am aware that my situation was much, much better than some) there were times - months, sometimes - when we couldn’t afford propane, and that meant no stove (we cooked everything with an electric frying pan), no heat, no hot water. Bathing in cold water? Not a hell of a lot of fun, especially in winter. Did I wear my hair in a ponytail for the better part of seventh grade so that no one could tell I hadn’t washed it? Yes, yes I did. Did it work? Uh….

I don't know why that got to me. Maybe because I read it just before Christmas, when we'd already gotten the kids their toys and we knew my in-laws had their usual half-a-living-room's worth of presents for all of us (but especially the kids).

I knew poor kids when I was little, the kids with unwashed hair, and I wondered how they could stand their scalps itching, because I sure couldn't. Well, now I know.

This year I'm going to try harder to help the poor. We've done token efforts in the past. The ubiquitous end-of-year clothing donations, for one. (Ah, the incentive of a tax break.) Our grocery store lets you tack on an extra $5 to your bill to donate to the Salvation Army, and puts out brown bags of dry goods for the local food pantry, which you can buy for $10 each. We've done that. But as people in food pantries and shelters point out, the poor aren't just poor at Christmas.

I was shocked when I read this on the food pantry box at church: food stamps do not pay for many essentials, including toilet paper, laundry detergent, shampoo, soap. Soap. WTF?

We've struggled in the past trying to pay our bills, and we've been able to rely on the kindness of family and friends to make it work. We're still not in such great straits, but it's better now than it has been (the price of home heating oil in New England notwithstanding). And even though I'm trying to save more, I think I can manage to spare a few bucks a week to buy some essentials for the truly poor.

Christmas stories

2007-12-24T12:28:00.000-05:00

A new story of mine is up at Shred of Evidence: Silence in Ramah is sort of a Christmas story, though dark, as usual.

Also: this story has been available for awhile, but it's stayed with me. Go read Sean Doolittle's The Grift of the Magi - it's one I believe I'll have to print and reread each year.

Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, Blessed Yule to those who celebrate those holidays. May this season bring peace and joy to your hearts.

2 for 2

2007-12-20T12:35:00.001-05:00

Both my interviews this past week went great. The police chief was as forthcoming as any of my best sources, and I think the article will be a good one. Also, it looks as if I have a new blog job - along with opportunities to write articles for a new regional parenting publication - upcoming in the new year. Thanks for all the good thoughts!! I'll keep you posted.

The secret

2007-12-16T22:30:00.000-05:00

Don't clean. Allison Brennan says so.

Seriously. Asked how she raises 5 kids (FIVE!) and still manages a full-time writing career, including her blogging, Allison wrote: "First, I gave up cleaning. It was a huge sacrifice, but it had to be done. My minions, er, children pitch in and help...."

It's true. I don't do much cleaning either. In fact, I put a system in place wherein Hamlet must earn one of the thousands of toys in our basement (thanks, Grandma!) by helping me out in some way. Often, that way is cleaning.

Allison's interview at Murderati also instills hope in me: her children are in school full-time. Mine: not. So I can't feel that bad about hardly getting to write, and I have something to look forward to: "Afternoons during the week and Saturdays are usually full of kid stuff and lots of driving."

Oh, and there's lots of great writing-related material in there too, especially Allison's description of "pantsing". Check it out, if you haven't already.

Opportunities... and danger

2007-12-10T21:58:00.001-05:00

Okay, I admit it: I am thinking of that borderline cliche in the corporate world, the one about the Chinese word for "crisis" being made up of the characters for "opportunity" and "danger." It's late and I've had a long week (yes, on Monday). I deserve to think in cliches! (I deserve to think, period, but that's another rant.)

All right, anyway. I've been bitching to several people in my "inner circle" (my husband, an editor, and a writing mommy friend) about two things. First, I miss having a life. Post-Hamlet and pre-Puck, I realized that I could seriously recharge my batteries by heading on down to the city to walk around and write in coffeeshops. I did that about once every month or two. Bliss. And now it's been more than a year since I was able to do that.

Second, I miss writing articles. These represented my social world outside of mommyhood; I got to talk with adults about more than missed naps. Also, I got to use my brain. I still use my brain for what I'm doing now. It just isn't consistent.

Within the same week, opportunities popped up that would help me deal with both problems. I got interest to blog for a new website that will launch early next year (yikes, does that sound familiar?) and the guy putting it together wants to meet with me. In person, in the city. Meanwhile, I'm getting ready to interview the police chief in the town where I lived for 12 years - the site of a recent major incident. I was a police cadet there when he was a patrol sergeant 15 years ago, so I know both the town and the department pretty well.

So: serious opportunities. And serious danger, at least that which exists in my head. This meeting in the city? I'm excited, because it will mean dressing in something other than mommy-clothes and talking business. Partly mommy business, yes, but business. In the city. I hope to all that is holy that I sound at least reasonably intelligent, because most of my business happens over email, and any face-to-fact conversation consists mainly of "Sweetie? Please don't sit on your brother's head. He really doesn't like that" or "Dear, would you please not let him watch SpongeBob? I really ~~HATE THAT SHOW~~ don't think that's appropriate."

Which brings me to opportunity #2: The Police Interview. I haven't done one of these in an even longer period of time than I haven't talked business. I've stayed current, but that doesn't mean I'll be as quick on the uptake as I used to be, directing an interview with a source who, by the way, remembers me from the Acne Days, when I was still a girk playing cop. What was I thinking?

My main source of comfort is, oddly, the memory that my brain used to shut down on interviews before I had children. Then, I could usually get away with, "Sorry. My last thought just went clean out of my head" and frantically scouring my notes for inspiration. Most sources were pretty understanding; after all, doesn't that happen to the best of us? The ones that weren't so understanding - well, I found it didn't matter so much in the end, as long as I did my best.

(There. Full circle. I began and ended with a cliche. Gotta love 'em - especially when your brain isn't working.)

The cool people

2007-12-03T21:20:00.000-05:00

PT-LawMom has this really funky way of reading my mind. Last month it was feminism, right when I was writing about it (even if I wasn't posting). This month it's girk-dom.

I've been thinking a lot about being the girk on blogs written and commented upon by "the cool people." You know - published authors. They all seem to have this knack for socializing that I don't have... so when I leave a comment, I'm all, "Oh crap. What a stupid thing to say. Can I delete it? Should I delete it? I'll look hypersensitive if I delete it. But now I just look dumb. Crap. I'm going to stop commenting altogether and hope they all forget about me...." And yet I continue to comment on the cool people's blogs.

I know at least part of it is the agent hunt, which is messing with my head, even though I have more than enough to keep me occupied while I wait. But I'm sure that even if I get signed, I'll continue to feel like a poser... which I'm assured that most published writers do, even among each other. Is it possible?

Meanwhile (I can't believe I forgot to tack this on in the first draft I posted!) J.T. Ellison blogs about social networking at Murderati, with the most salient point of all in comments: "I still believe that spending your time making your work the best it can be will always trump interaction." It's a great point, and if I can remember that, I might just come up with some semi-cool comment!

Feminism and the freelancing mother

2007-11-28T10:32:00.000-05:00

When her book, The Black Widow Agency, got a questionable Kirkus review that referred to it as a "bitch-a-thon," author Felicia Donovan got proactive: she spearheaded the Bitch-a-Thon, a way to help women in need. “When a reviewer, especially a reviewer from a major publication critiques a book, it should stay professional,” she wrote. “Attack me professionally. Keep it at that level. Don’t gripe because you can’t handle a story about four strong women who join forces to take on a male-owned business that allows blatant sexual harassment of its female employees.”

Her experience got me thinking about my past six years as a working woman--specifically, a working mother. In general, I try not to disclose that I have children. It’s not really anyone’s business; I would simply say, “Between 1 and 3 are best,” without saying that it was my son’s naptime.

However. It does seem to come up more often than not, often when I’ve tried to schedule something that turns out to conflict with my children’s schedules. People do tend to wonder why, if you work at home, you’re not available all day every day. You don’t have meetings. You get to schedule your writing time with no boss to argue. So if you say you’re unavailable, what does that mean? You’re goofing off when their time is so much harder to come by?

Well, no. I have these kids, see....

Most people are great, very understanding. That said, I must say that I’ve had better responses from men than from women.

Women aren’t rude when I say I have children whose needs come first, but they’re a lot less likely to have a conversation with me about kids and scheduling and work vs. family. No joke--mentioning my kids to a guy is an instant ice-breaker, while I’m always afraid that mentioning them to a woman will make my job harder.

Why would this be? We’re all working women. Many have children of their own. Are my office counterparts afraid their bosses will overhear them talking about their kids (even if it’s in the name of forming a relationship with a member of the media)? Are they jealous that I get to stay home with my kids and they don’t? Are they fearful that I look down on them for working in the office instead of at home?

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had great conversations with marketing and PR professionals who do manage to telecommute, or who wish they could work at home, or have quit to start freelancing full-time. But I usually wait for them to broach the topic. I have fears that mirror the ones I mentioned—that some poor mom will think those things, or will have the same outlook toward me.

Or maybe it's simpler than that. Maybe it's just a taboo I wasn't aware of, one that many women think they have to perpetuate. But as my friend PT-LawMom notes, "Part of me thinks, hey, if my colleagues don’t want to hear about my kid, screw them! If my male coworker can say, 'I’ve got to leave early to coach little league' and everyone thinks he’s a big hero, why should the bar be any higher for me?"

It’s sad, really. And much more complicated than the standard men-are-pigs or feminists-are-bitches arguments. Whether mothers and fathers get to spend more time with their children appears to be primarily up to the employer, as well as the individual and his or her needs and yes, preferences. For me, then, my current policy of letting the client decide the discussion is probably best for me... along with my signature on MomsRising petitions, which will hopefully lead to better working conditions for all my working client-parents.

Oh, and my own purchase of The Black Widow Club. Folks, if someone you know would enjoy this, buy them a copy for Christmas. It's a good read and will help support a worthy cause - women not unlike ourselves.

Reflections on the first year

2007-11-19T14:17:00.000-05:00

This time last year, I was 12 hours away from becoming a mother to two children. Little did I know that The Ambulance Ride would be just the first in a long line of adventures.

Before I continue, I need to make a name change. I'm going to stick with the Shakespearean theme I started with Hamlet, and rename his baby brother Puck. He no longer resembles a Bulgarian mobster - not only is he no longer that grumpy, but he also grew big blue eyes, long lashes, and soft blond hair - and he's incredibly mischievous. Among his favorite activities: trash-picking (and throwing his brother's toys away), climbing on top of tables, and going under the computer desk. He's 1 going on 4.

For all the joy this brings, it's also brought some weightier issues I never anticipated. First of all, I've had to cut waaaaay back on work. I only do what I have to to stay current as a freelance writer/editor, and to make enough to keep us afloat. I'm down to maybe 5 hours a week, though many weeks it's more like 1 or 2 hours. Puck must be constantly supervised, both with and without his brother around. I'm still writing fiction, though it's more limited than ever. I've actually become a little bit more structured:

Puck doesn't nap easily, so when he gets fussy on preschool mornings, I often load him into the car half an hour or more early, then sit in Hamlet's teacher's driveway and work on a story while Puck sleeps. I can get 20-30 minutes this way.
If I'm lucky enough to get Puck to sleep quickly (as opposed to the hour or more being rocked that it sometimes takes), I spend another 20-30 minutes working before Hamlet comes into the room to go to sleep.
Rain Dog and I agreed that I can spend Saturday mornings at a local Dunkin' Donuts. It's not perfect, but it's quiet enough that I can spend time on the next novel. Otherwise I'd never get to focus enough to work on it!

The writing, however, is small potatoes compared to the emotional challenges of caring for two children. Not that adding a child was difficult in itself, but that the addition dredged up issues and memories from my own childhood that I have had a very, very hard time dealing with.

I didn't get along well with my younger brother, who was born when I was 4. I felt insecure a lot of the time, afraid he was somehow usurping my identity when he played with my toys or imitated my actions. I didn't know how to be a sister and I don't remember being guided in that role - my father had been an only child, and my mother, although the oldest of 5 children, didn't share a father with her siblings. Security wasn't their strong suit, either. By the time my brother was school age, I was a full-fledged bully (fed by the girl-bullying I experienced at school).

Four is a tough age, from what I can see. The child is on the cusp of childhood, with one foot still in babyhood. Hamlet has had problems with separation anxiety, which he has never had (even as a baby!); he's halfway potty trained, but unwilling to take the final steps to complete it. He's often incredibly mature, helpful, smart, and witty - a true joy to be around. Other times, he can be a monstrous brat (usually when given more control over a situation than he can handle).

If I was anything like Hamlet, I can only imagine how my parents, dealing with their own childhood memories and baggage, would have seen and responded to me. All I have, then, are my memories of how I felt, and my desire that Hamlet never feels as insecure as I did.

Translating those intangibles into action, however, has been the biggest challenge. It's easy to catch him being good to his brother, and it's easy to talk about the times he wanted to be good to Puck but was just a little too rough. Harder is how to respond when he says, "I'm dumb," or refuses to tell me that his lovey got "hurt" because he was afraid I would be mad. Where does he get those ideas? Does he hear my negative self-talk so often that he now imitates it? Does he really believe that about himself? Do I really get upset with him so often? Is it his natural perfectionism, or mine, that he's responding to? How can I maintain high standards to challenge him, but still ensure he can succeed?

I know how my parents would have responded - and did respond - and put together with my memories, I can't bring myself to respond likewise. It would be easier, but I just can't do it. I then feel like I'm parenting in a vacuum, literally making it up as I go along. (With a little help from good friends.)

Why is this relevant to a writing blog? Well, because of the effect on creativity. I have a tremendous amount of anger that I'm working through - here's where it helps to write crime fiction. At the same time, I worry that it's too raw to distill into an effective story, that my fiction will turn tame, or that sometimes I don't feel as if I have very much to say.

Serious topic for a joyous first-birthday celebration? Sure. But a couple of people recently asked me how I freelance with small children around, and it's not as simple anymore as "write during naps" or "write in the morning, play in the afternoon." It's become a much more delicate balance of needs - mine, Rain Dog's, and the boys' - which grows even more delicate when fragile emotions are in play.

So, sure, business has taken a hit this year, and I don't expect the coming year to be any less of a roller coaster as Puck becomes more physically able. But it's worth it when I know I'm working as hard as I can to channel my creativity toward making life safer and more secure for my children.

A Q&A with Mark Terry

2007-11-11T11:23:00.000-05:00

Back in September, author Mark Terry asked for a little help from his friends. In keeping with my desire to help out fellow writing parents, I in turn asked him for an interview. Here are Mark's thoughts on (among other things) being a freelancing dad, writing fiction and non-fiction, and dealing with unpredictable income:

Our careers followed much the same track, with "bitching about the job and wishing I were home writing" leading to part- and then finally full-time writing. How did you come to make the decision, first to go part-time, then full-?

I'd been leading up to it for a long time. For the longest time I was writing strictly fiction--unsuccessfully--and occasionally nonfiction. But the nonfiction kept building and building over the years and probably 15% of my annual income was coming from the nonfiction (versus my "day job").

I had several regular writing and editing gigs and I made a concerted effort to do more nonfiction and I tripped into a market that paid very well. So instead of getting paid $150 or $200 per article I was getting paid $850 to $1500 per article. That convinced me it was possible and I started concentrating on the nonfiction and it was obvious pretty quickly that I might be able to make this work.

I was in a job at the time--as a cytogenetics technologist at Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit--that had a track record of letting technologists work part-time. So I requested part-time, working two ten-hour days, and writing the other three. That started at the end of June 2004 and by the end of October I went fulltime. Haven't looked back since.

From time to time my wife comments that she wishes I had done it five years earlier, but I'm not sure the conditions were right. I do wish I had been in contact with other fulltime freelancers, because then I would have considered it possible, which strikes me as being about 90% of the battle.

You have a wide range of freelancing jobs as well as your fiction. How do you balance the two aspects of your career?

The assumption being that I am balancing the two aspects of my career. I try to limit the time I spend on fiction to an hour or an hour-and-a-half a day and I've recently put a cap on how much I'm willing to spend on marketing (at least until I can pay down my Visa bill). Although I try to write fiction every day, paying nonfiction work will trump it every time. I'm also all too aware that my fiction "career" (as you call it) is about as stable as a puddle in Death Valley. This can wreak havoc with your emotions.

Sometimes it bugs me, sometimes I just go with the flow. I try to treat them both as integral parts of my writing career and business model, but I'm probably kidding myself. There's nothing intelligent and rational about my fiction career; it's all emotional. I like doing it, I can do it, so I do.

From a dollars and cents point of view it probably doesn't make much sense--at least not yet.

How does your writing schedule overall work with your job as stay-at-home dad? How does it all change during vacations, snow days, sick days, etc.? Especially with the latter - how do you adapt?

I don't have too many problems with this. I have two sons, one is nine, the other will soon be fourteen. They're very self-entertaining and as long as there are videogames they're pretty content. We restrict TV when they're home in the summer (no TV between 10 AM and 4 PM). We have a pool and in warm weather they use it most of the afternoon.

I try to stay flexible in my hours. It's one of the supposed perks of being self-employed although I tend not to abuse it much, working better with a regular, predictable schedule--something approximating nine to five, although in the summer because I don't have to deal with getting the kids off to school it's more like 8:30 to 5:00 and maybe shorter days on Fridays.

Knock on wood, we're all pretty healthy. If someone gets sick, I make sure they're comfortable and check on them regularly. You have to understand, once your oldest hits the teen years, they can be more or less depended on for help.

I also keep an open door policy. The only time I can't be interrupted is when I'm on the phone, otherwise they're welcome to come down and bug, er, keep me company. (They get bored with me pretty quickly). Part of our basement is finished off and half of that is my office. It's essentially two large rooms, one with a full bathroom and a walk-in closet. We call that room the Bat Cave because it has no windows and my wife slept down there when she worked midnights. There's a TV and air hockey and the kids sometimes will come down there to entertain themselves. My office is next to it with a window looking out on the backyard.

What does your wife do? How do you divide household and family responsibilities?

My wife is a medical technologist and currently works days. Because she's a senior technologist, AKA assistant supervisor or group leader, she's relatively flexible in her hours. She also only works about eleven miles from our house, which means she doesn't have much of a commute. So she basically works 7:00 to 3:30 and typically stops at the gym on the way home three days a week. So in the mornings she makes sure our oldest son is up before she leaves--his bus leaves at 7:00 in the morning--and I'm up at 6:30 to keep him company and make sure he leaves the house on time. Then I take my shower, check e-mail, work up my to-do list if I haven't already, then wake up the youngest, get him off to school and walk the dog. I'm typically at my desk by 9:00.

As for households divisions, I'm the chief dishwasher and I handle the floors--sweeping, mopping, vacuuming. We'll split up lunch duties on the weekends and I'll do some cooking as needed, although I actually don't like to cook and my wife does. And she'd rather cook than do the dishes.

We're both very involved in our kids' lives. We try to pick up the slack for each other, no matter what the duties are around the house. Because I'm now working out of the house, I deal with the vagaries of school schedules-days off, sick days, snow days, vacations--and the kids know that I will have two questions for them when they get home from school: 1. How was your day? 2. Do you have homework?

Kids being kids, I may tell them they should do their homework or practice their musical instruments before Mom gets home because we have something going on that evening, but I generally return to my office and they ignore me until Mom gets home and she starts rattling cages. We both monitor schoolwork and share in the parental nagging. You could safely say I'm the warm-up and my wife's the closer.

What particular challenges have you faced as a work-at-home parent? How have you overcome (or are working toward overcoming) them?

One of the challenges we still deal with, and it has less to do with parenting than being self-employed, is dealing with unpredictable income. My wife is a great money manager, but even still, we try to learn from our mistakes. The first summer I was fulltime we had planned a trip to Disney World in July (yeah, it was hot). Unfortunately, it had slipped both of our minds that we owed my quarterly taxes right before we left. So we went to Disney with very little money in reserve, which isn't the best way to go to Disney. That inspired us to develop a different system for managing taxes, which essentially is for me to have an Excel spreadsheet that totals my income and how much taxes I owe both the state and the federal government and I run it every week and give it to my wife so we always know exactly how much money is owed or will be owed at any given point in each quarter.

There's a certain amount of faith involved in running your own business. You have to plan as best you can for the lean times, but you also have to have faith that work-and a check-will turn up soon.

In terms of parenting, I think the biggest problem--and I'm not sure it's a huge problem--is it can be kind of hard to pull your head away from the work. Not just physically--sometimes I'll work evenings and weekends if deadlines demand it--but to just pull away mentally and when you're with the family, be with the family. This is true for anybody who runs their own business and is probably true for many people who work for others, but one of the disadvantages of having a home office (or e-mail, a cell phone, a fax machine, a laptop) is it's all too easy to just slip off to work. We deal with it.

What do you love best about being a work-at-home parent?

Almost everything, to be honest. I like being home with the kids in the summer and on vacations. I like being home when they come home from school and in the mornings when they leave for school. I like, if need be, being available for things like field trips or school events. There is also a sense of actually being part of my community that I didn't have when I commuted 45 miles into Detroit and was essentially gone from 7:00 in the morning until 7:15 in the evening.

I also just have more of a life. It's not perfect--we only touched on unpredictable pay and don't have nearly the time to discuss health insurance (my wife has excellent health insurance)--but nothing is. Life for me and my family got significantly better when I was able to make this work. That's a blessing.

Anything else you want to tell us about writing and parenting?

People often tell me they think they'd like to work out of the house like I do. I'm sort of hesitant to push it too much because I really, really don't think it works for everybody. Some people claim they don't know if they'd have the discipline to work with all the distractions and that can certainly be part of it, although I find the majority of my distractions online. I think an even bigger issue for people considering working out of their house is the isolation. I'm very comfortable working by myself, but I do realize that sometimes I like going to the gym to be around other people as much as working out, or eating out for lunch. I'm pretty sure some people would go nuts if their primary interaction during the day was themselves or e-mail or blogs.

The other thing, particularly when it comes to writing, is that it's a business. And you have to treat it as a business, and that's going to mean some sort of regular hours, doing work you might not necessarily enjoy, sometimes having to go after the money or negotiating things in a way you might not think you should have to. And like all businesses, there are ups-and-downs, not just in income, but the work itself and in how you feel about it. As a result, it may have a larger effect (maybe) on your family.

On the other hand, I never wish I was doing something else, although I might wish I was writing something else. The lifestyle serves me particularly well and I get up in the morning always eager to get to work. And I most definitely didn't say that when I worked at the hospital.

Mark sent me his latest novel, The Serpent's Kiss, after I signed up for his newsletter and won his contest. I liked the thriller's bioterrorism twist, which draws on his experience, and I plan to check out the rest of his backlist.

Little brother blues

2007-11-05T11:57:00.000-05:00

I have about a dozen blog posts written and almost ready to go... now if only I could find the time to edit them, including find links to go with them. These last few weeks, however, have been so busy that the idea of writing the next novel renders me a quivering mass of jelly under the computer desk. The boys, they are needy. So, so needy. So incredibly needy. And whiny.

I would not be able to write this if I had both of them with me today, because right now, the little one is in his feeding chair beside me (I had to put him there, because he kept crawling under the desk, because wires are just so cool) yelling and beating his tray. Oh, and trying to make himself throw up. Somehow he associates gagging with being let out of his chair. So the ol' finger down the throat is what he does when we don't let him out right away.

So what was I saying? Oh, yes. If Hamlet were here (he is out with his Daddy today, who had promised him he would take a day off for just them), the yelling and gagging would be punctuated by... something. I don't care to contemplate what. Hamlet has been having a hard time lately, because oh dear dog, his brother started walking last week. Hamlet is no longer in control! The humanity!

So. Among the posts almost ready to go: a Q&A with Mark Terry about how he manages his life as a freelancing dad. Also, a post that follows up my review of The Black Widow Agency, about feminism and freelancing with kids. Both hopefully to come this week. After that, who knows? We're heading into holiday season.

Gah.

Happy Halloween

2007-10-30T19:11:00.000-05:00

See? Dragons aren't so scary up close.

On second thought....

In lieu of more substantial thought, here's a link to a new story at Shred of Evidence. Meanwhile, I wish you all a very safe and happy Halloween.

The Black Widow Agency bites stereotypes

2007-10-21T17:30:00.000-05:00

On its surface, The Black Widow Agency might appear to be what Kirkus Reviews indelicately referred to as a "bitch-a-thon": a man-bashing, ultra-feminist piece of little more than propaganda.

Those of us who have not experienced chronic or egregious sexism might be inclined likewise to write off Felicia Donovan's* debut, but that would be an oversight. That's because underneath the quips and jabs lie characters, both female and male, who have made--and continue to make--plenty of errors, sometimes serious ones; and who are ultimately their own people, not the stereotypes that Kirkus would have us think.

Donovan writes about aspects of female relationships that often get glossed over in the popular media. Women offend and are offended, not always understanding "the big deal" on either side. Women cross each other's boundaries, believing it's their due under the umbrella of "sisterhood." And sometimes, women stab each other hard in the back.

This debut comes at a time when organizations like MomsRising seek to change pervasive attitudes about working mothers. The story central to The Black Widow Agency is a case of sexual harassment and repercussions against working moms. Donovan, who has seen her share of both equity and inequity at the New England-based law enforcement agency where she works, writes effectively on several different levels. Although some of her secondary characters could have stood a bit more fleshing out, Donovan promises this in upcoming sequels. And although the happily-ever-after wrap-up is a bit of a stretch for those of us with darker sensibilities, they're also a fun bit of escapism in a prevalently dark world.

*Full disclosure: I once interviewed Felicia about the law enforcement technology consortium (CLEAT), which she founded. The article appeared in Law Enforcement Technology in, I believe 2003, and Felicia and I got back in touch via Crimespace. I'm very pleased to be helping promote her creativity once more!

Children: God's little torture devices

2007-10-19T09:29:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the lack of posting, folks. I've been meaning to post more personal, writing-parent-related material for an even balance of it and book reviews, but this past week the kids were sick (back to back) and sleep was at a premium. Hope to be back with more this weekend, or barring that, the beginning of next week!

Is your child an old soul?

2007-10-10T19:57:00.000-05:00

I'm convinced that in a past life, Boris was an Egyptian embalmer. Just the way he crams his fingers up my nose and twists them around in my sinuses while he's nursing....

Yes, I've been waiting for an opportunity to share that anecdote! In all seriousness, however, author M.J. Rose tells me that children under the age of 5 remember past lives more than people of any other age group. Although I confess I'm a bit of a skeptic as to reincarnation, the possibility is fascinating. That's why, after reading Rose's latest book The Reincarnationist, I asked her to tell me more about children with regard to this subject.

CM: You told me, "children under the age of 5 remember their past lives more than any other age groups." Why is this?

MJR: Some people describe it as a door that remains slightly open till somewhere around 5 to 7 years old. The reason that I’ve read about that makes the most sense is that reincarnation memories are carryovers from past lives and children are literally closer in time to those past lives. Since past life memories are stored in the subconscious as our children’s minds become filled with other information those memories become buried and or confused with the millions of pieces of new information that children take in as they grow.

CM: In the book, Natalie's mother believed her child's memories were just pretend. How would you begin to guess whether your child was pretending, or remembering? What are early memories like in children and how do they articulate them?

MJR: In Eastern cultures--where 60% to 80% of people believe in reincarnation--it’s very different than in America, where only 20% believe. There, when a child says, “Mommy, when I knew you before I was your brother and we lived in a red house,” the mother would first believe it was a reincarnation memory.

As for pretending or remembering, what I’ve often heard is that they are simply not the same kind of stories. Most kids under five wouldn’t make up stories that have the kind of striking details about time and place. Or so I’ve read.

There is so much information about this at a site, http://www.carolbowman.com/. She’s an expert who has written about childhood reincarnation memories and regression.

CM: The events in THE REINCARNATIONIST are grounded in events of historical significance. Is this common among those who remember past lives, or do they recall more mundane details?

MJR: Usually people remember the lives that ended violently or were troubled. So many do remember historical events.

CM: Your characters Malachai and Beryl don't remember past lives. Do some people have the "gift" and others not? Are some personality types predisposed to remember, or does it have to do more with upbringing? (Or, as in Josh's case, physical trauma?) How about boys vs. girls?

MJR: It’s not a boy/girl thing. Or a personality type. Most adults don’t have memories unless they work on finding them through hypnosis or regression. That said, most people if they take it seriously and do the work, can find some memories.

CM: You told an interviewer that as a child, you had recalled details of your great-grandfather's life that you couldn't possibly have known unless you'd been there. Do reincarnated souls typically reappear further along blood lines?

MJR: Reincarnated souls do often return to be with the same group of souls they’d been with before so they can finish what they started, or complete issues that haven’t been worked out. So there are a lot of family connections. A lot of parents report on kids talking about the last time they were together. Or the last place they’d lived.

Interested in more? Check out M.J.'s other blog: http://www.reincarnationist.org/wordpress/

Mama Knows Breast: A review

2007-10-02T20:13:00.000-05:00

Andi Silverman presents a breezy, conversation-with-girlfriends style in her new book Mama Knows Breast: A Beginner's Guide to Breastfeeding. Meant to be a basic handbook rather than an oracle (Silverman provides a list of those at the end of her book), Mama Knows Breast covers the essentials of breastfeeding a baby: pros and cons, "operating instructions," etiquette, and spousal involvement, among others.

It's important to read the book cover to cover, since Silverman either omits or glosses over some details in the opening chapters but covers them later on. Still, even as a handbook, I found it to be not quite informational enough, especially to a first-timer. For example:

Silverman recommends healing sore nipples with breastmilk, but doesn't say why (the antibodies in the milk aid healing).
While she advises that thrush can be cured with antifungals, she doesn't discuss the natural remedies (including probiotics) that many women feel are more conducive to healing (especially if mother and/or baby are taking antibiotics).
A mention of the milk-supply-enhancing effects of dark beer doesn't take into account research that shows it is the prolactin level, not the actual supply, that increases with alcohol intake.
Nursing pillows are never mentioned (they can help support a smaller-than-average infant, as well as an inexperienced mother; I depended on mine with my first, but hardly needed it with my second).
Neither are growth spurts, which can be stressful for a mother who doesn't know why her baby suddenly refuses to be put down!

A discussion about the history of formula is good, but does not discuss social/class attitudes toward breast- and formula-feeding during this century - a critical omission, since many of our grandmothers felt that breastfeeding was something "only poor people" did. Even if our mothers disagree, the lack of support from either or both generations can persist, leading a mother to give up sooner than she might have liked.

Some details outright concerned me. "No one's handing out a martyr medal," Silverman tells the reader after she advises not to suffer in silence, but this is not what keeps many women from asking for help. Instead, help is either not there (if a new mother lacks supportive family and friends) or it's available, but conflicts (differences in opinion among care providers, such as the pediatrician and the obstetrician).

In my own experience, confused about how to handle my older son's dietary sensitivities and afraid that my care providers would advise a switch to formula, I ended up calling my local La Leche League leader. Many women are not so lucky, and Silverman doesn't account for this. (Neither does she account for soy allergies, which can affect many babies who are sensitive to milk protein, or spicy foods, which can trigger reflux in reflux-prone babies.)

Likewise, a frank mention of sexual arousal while breastfeeding is not given adequate attention. Specifically, given the anxiety in our culture about sex and children, Silverman could have devoted a few extra sentences to the reason why this happens: the hormone oxytocin, which flows in abundance during both sex and nursing. It happens that way to promote bonding between partners - yes, nursing is a partnership - which is crucial to a mother and the newborn she doesn't yet know.

The book does have its strengths. Relationships are given some weight in Mama Knows Breast, which was nice to see. A father's role gets a good discussion, as does co-sleeping, which receives a realistic balance as to safety vs. efficacy. Some of the relationship advice is a bit too glib - "Use erotica" may not be helpful to people who simply aren't turned on by it, and "Keep communicating" doesn't help a couple who have had hundreds of conversations interrupted - but by the same token, sometimes the simplest solutions just don't occur to sleep-deprived, lifestyle-shocked couples.

The "From the Mouths of Moms" segments, following a format in use by other childcare experts, are good (notwithstanding the mother who advocated breast pumping while driving - "If people can talk on their cell phones while driving, why can't I pump?" - actually, many states and cities now ban cell phone use while driving); it's always helpful to see how other moms have handled a trying situation.

Silverman also spends considerable time discussing relactation for adopted babies, as well as using milk from milk banks. Her section on nursing etiquette is wonderful in its detail, including comebacks for nosey critics. Likewise her kick in the pants about comparing oneself to celebrities who have personal trainers, chefs, and nannies that most of us can't afford.

Silverman's best advice is in her closing paragraphs. "Wean yourself of all your preconceived notions about breastfeeding.... In some ways, that's the beauty of this whole Mama thing. You get to make it up as you go along." All in all, Mama Knows Breast is a good start, but in spite of its encouraging tone, may not be all a newly nursing mother needs as she starts - or continues - a nursing relationship.

Guest author Joshua Henkin on Matrimony

2007-09-27T12:06:00.000-05:00

Guest blogging for me today is Joshua Henkin, author of the soon-to-be-released book Matrimony. Enjoy - and be sure to check out the promotional video for the book!

Now that my new novel, Matrimony, is being published, I have a moment to reflect on my own marriage, which, though it’s not the basis for my characters’ marriage, nonetheless informed the novel. When I started to write Matrimony, I was single, living in Ann Arbor, and now I’m married, with two small daughters and a dog, living in Park Slope, Brooklyn, land of the freelance mother—and, in my case, land of the freelance father, too. How do you balance it all, and is it different for a father than for a mother?

I think it probably is different for a father. It seems to me (and I’ve been witness to extensive discussions about this on the Park Slope Parents Listserve) that the assumptions about what mothers and fathers do are different, even in liberal families striving for equality between the genders. In Park Slope, for instance, which is a bastion of liberalism, when I take my daughter to music class or to a reading hour at the local bookstore, I am usually one of the only fathers there, if not the only one; everybody else is either a mother or a nanny. And from speaking to my friends about this, I don’t think this was what most of us intended to have happen.

It tends to start out innocently enough. The mother is the one who takes the freelancing job, in order to have more flexible hours. Or her training is in a field that is less well paying than the father’s field, and so it makes financial sense for him to hold on to his job. But there are all sorts of ramifications. The mother becomes more familiar with the children’s routine—she’s better, more efficient at being a parent—and so even when the father is around she tends to take the lead. There can be a kind of infantilizing of the father, for which both parties are responsible. The father ends up being lazy (why not let the mother do the hard work?), and the mother, who is often resentful and feels devalued, prides herself on the fact that she’s the better parent, and though she wants the father to chip in, she often unconsciously discourages him from doing so. I’m not saying that this is always the dynamic, just that it’s familiar enough that I’ve come to notice a pattern.

Although I wouldn’t say my wife and I are immune to these forces, we’ve managed for the most part to avoid them. Much of it has to do with good luck. We have good childcare, and we have parents who are nearby and available to help out. My wife and I are both freelancers of sorts. I’m a novelist, and though I also teach creative writing at a couple of MFA programs, my teaching schedule is fairly flexible. My wife is an academic, and though her teaching load is heavier than mine, for her, too, it’s not an office job where she has to be there every day of the week. So most days, we take the kids to daycare/preschool together. Although it’s not the most efficient way to work (it would make more sense for us to take turns bringing the kids to school and picking them up), we’ve decided, To hell with efficiency.

In general, because as in any marriage with small kids and two careers, it’s easy not to find the time to spend with each other, my wife and I are as conscious as we can be to attend to our marriage and not take it for granted. It’s what my wife said to me on our wedding night—that we always need to grow together—and those words have stuck with me ever since. We tend to spend a larger portion of our disposable income on babysitters than some other couples we know (we promised ourselves early on that we wouldn’t compute the cost of going out to the movies on a Saturday night), and whenever possible we tend to do things together with the children, instead of alternating.

There are disadvantages to this. On those occasions when one of us is alone with the kids, we often feel a little more at bay than we otherwise would. But so far we’ve managed. Also, we have an office in our home that we share, and we work at adjoining desks. It’s our own kind of parallel play (we’ve had to learn not to interrupt each other), but we’ve found that simply being in the same room even if you’re not interacting can foster a kind of togetherness that is good for a marriage.

While it’s nice to have the kind of flexible schedules that allow either of us in the middle of a given day to take one of the children to the doctor, the flip-side—and what’s hard for freelancers, academics, and others like them—is that the work is potentially limitless. In my case, there’s always another novel or story to begin, and the same goes for Beth with her own work. At a certain point we need to say, “Enough,” and have perspective about work. We also have needed to be pretty strict about the kids’ bedtime. We happen to be strong believers that children do best with a good night’s sleep, but beyond that, it’s after the kids go to bed that we have the chance to eat dinner and sit down to prepare for class.

In a way, I think the next couple of months may be the hardest ones on my marriage and family, since my publisher is sending me on a book tour that will take me to more than twenty different stops. I’ve never been away from Beth and the kids for more than a weekend, and now I’ll be gone for ten days straight once, six days straight another time, and over the course of six weeks I’ll probably be gone more than I’m at home. We’re living in Philadelphia this year where Beth has a fellowship. She’d originally thought of commuting from Brooklyn four days a week, but once it became clear how long my book tour would be, we realized it wouldn’t be possible for us both to be commuting, so this is what we’ve worked out.

Matrimony, interestingly enough, focuses on a marriage that for a long time is without children. It’s about the twenty-year history of a marriage—what happens when a couple meet in college (he’s a Wasp from New York City, an aspiring novelist; she’s Jewish, from Montreal) and end up marrying earlier than they expected and the ways that their choices (faithlessness, failed ambition, the decision whether to have a child) and things out of their control (health and sickness, the death of a parent) test the endurance of their relationship. It struggles with some of the tensions of a two-career family (the woman is studying to be a psychologist) even before there are children.

By the end of the book, Julian and Mia do have a child, so they are about to face a lot of the things that my wife and I already face. But what they have had is quite a number of years together without children. Beth and I had that, too. It’s certainly not the only way to go, but for us, at least, it’s proven invaluable. The balancing of work and family is always hard to manage, and knowing who you are, and who your partner is—having that solid foundation—has been essential in helping us endure some of the difficulties that inevitably come along.

Time on my side?

2007-09-17T20:32:00.000-05:00

Today over at Working Stiffs, guest blogger Victoria Thompson writes, "The ideas just come, but the time sure doesn’t. It just flies. Away." How true, how true.

I write about transitions at the beginning and end of every school year, because every transition brings new challenges. This year, Boris is mobile. And not just innocuously crawling. The child is the reason baby-proofing was invented. He deliberately targets the things he shouldn't have, and he knows he shouldn't have them. He laughs when he hears "no" and crawls faster.

At the same time, Hamlet, now in his second year of preschool, has lots of new things knocking about his little noggin. As a result, he has difficulty falling asleep about every other night or two. Result (since he needs company): evenings have a way of slipping away.

I couldn't help thinking about Victoria's post and the comments thereafter while this particular evening slipped away. We commenters talked about the criticality of making time for writing, but very often in such conversations, I get the feeling that folks think in terms of giving up niceties - like nightly Law & Order reruns, or blog time, or what have you. Very few people talk about that old Economics 101 bugaboo: opportunity cost.

Rain Dog and I have had trouble reconciling time in the past. This year, because my business has been so shaken up with the new baby and various jobs coming and going, I chose to devote my time to the kids while he prepared for the new year. It worked out for a few weeks, but I find now that I'm itching to get back to my work. There isn't much of it, but dealing with these two strong little personalities leaves me drained by the end of the day. And when I'm spending that end with the same people I've spent the last 12 hours with? Oh, I get a mite frustrated. It doesn't help that to recoup some of that time lost, I keep late night hours, even though the boys often get me up at 7am.

It's clear that Rain Dog and I must share bedtime responsibilities more evenly, because right now, I feel like business has all but ground to a halt. I may not be able to do much to build it right now, not to the level it was once at, but I need to feel I'm accomplishing more than a few sentences a day. And although the mommy guilt niggles at me, telling me that in just a few short years I'll actually miss laying down with the boys, even she must know that it would be better for all of us if I could feel more productive - and thus, less prone to snap.

Are you a writing parent with a book to promote?

2007-09-13T21:55:00.001-05:00

Leave me a comment, or better yet, email me.

As far back as a couple of years ago, I was interested in supporting writing parents via this blog. I interviewed a few but was never really sure how to go about getting into it for real. Now that I've become involved with MotherTalk.com, that other bloggers have referred publicists to me and that those publicists have contacted me independently, I'm starting to think the promotional aspect of blogging is a good pursuit for me.

This doesn't mean that the tone of the blog will change. I'll still write about my experiences as a writing parent. But part of helping other parents isn't just validating their work; it's also celebrating their success and trying to further it.

So please - if you're a writing parent and you have a book coming out, let me know. I have limited time so I can't promise a book review, but we can talk about how you make it all work and plug your book at the same time. Sound like a deal?

A filler entry

2007-09-05T09:19:00.000-05:00

I've been trying like Hades for the past two weeks to come up with a thoughtful entry, but can't seem to get hold of one. I can barely get hold of story ideas. This would bother me if it weren't that time of year again, and for the fact that Boris has a horrible sleep schedule (as in, no schedule at all, day or night). So in honor of my state of mind lately, I leave you with two tidbits:

George A. Romero has a new zombie movie coming out... this week! I'm woefully behind the curve on this one and I can't believe I didn't hear about it sooner, but then again it's not like we have a Fangoria subscription (or the time to devote to reading it). Well, the important thing is, Romero is excited about Diary of the Dead because it is his first totally independent project since Night.

Also: 28 Weeks Later is slated to come out on DVD on our 8th wedding anniversary. Guess I know what we're doing that night!

Stress in the home (office)

2007-08-23T11:15:00.000-05:00

A client e-mailed me the other day wondering about the status of a project I was managing. As I started to e-mail the client we were working with, I happened to glance at my Inbox. There was an e-mail from just that client - project completed. I had never followed up.

After a profuse apology to my client, I looked again at my list of messages. How had I missed that? The message was dated on Thursday. The day before a horrific level of stress descended on our heads.

Without going into details, I will simply say that it was the kind of stress that (however temporarily) shut our household down for the weekend while we tried to figure out how to manage it. On Saturday and most of Sunday, I left the computer off while we focused on our children and neglected housework and each other. On Monday I got back to work, but it was work (okay, fiction) that helped me relax at the same time that it needed to get done. Everything else? Completely out of my mind.

I'm sure that my client wasn't too impressed with me. The fact is, though, that he has an office to escape to. I don't.

If this type of thing happens again in the future, I hope I'll retain the presence of mind to tell my clients that I'll be away for a few days unexpectedly. Meanwhile, I think this remains an unfortunate byproduct of working at home. Since those who have offices may never understand the degree to which some stress can affect us at home, the best we can do - in my opinion - is give ourselves a break, understand our own limitations, and take care of ourselves and our families when the situation requires it.

Clients who won't abide this will take their business elsewhere. Clients who understand (as much as they can) become your anchors. The old 80-20 rule - 80 percent of your business comes from 20 percent of your clients - applies here. Which clients do you want when you have family, health, home, or other troubles? The ones who stick with you. Even if you annoy them sometimes, even if they annoy you sometimes, even if they don't pay the most or pay you on time - the most important thing is how they respond to your emergencies.

Honorable mention

2007-08-13T07:29:00.000-05:00

I won this for the short story I posted last month. I'm a little bit bummed that I didn't get a hefty Amazon.com gift certificate, but there were only 7 other Honorables. So this is happy news.

Answers.com is running another writing contest, but I think I'm going to sit this one out. I have a ton of new ideas sitting in the wings now that I've completed my novel revision, not the least of which is its sequel. I'd rather shore up my creativity!

On tour: The Other Mother

2007-08-08T12:38:00.000-05:00

If I worked, I'd never have to worry about playing with my kids.

If I didn't write, I could afford to be more creative about playing with my kids.

She manages to make it all work. Her kids are well-behaved, she writes, and her house is clean. What's her secret?

I can't count the number of times I've compared myself to other mothers, believing they had some secret to family bliss that I wasn't privy to. Over time and with gentle guidance from dear friends, I've learned that every mother gives something up. Time with her children. Time for herself. (A clean house!)

I am fortunate that my bad habit brought me together with my friends. Unchecked, comparisons lead to paranoia that can only divide--and conquer, ourselves and our relationships. That's what Gwendolen Gross explores in her new book, The Other Mother.

When Amanda moves into the home of Thea's erstwhile best friend, both women hope they can forge a new friendship. But Amanda is a mother who works out of the home, and Thea is a stay-at-home mother. During Amanda's emergency stay with her family in Thea's home, each woman drops hints and reads into the other's actions about her lifestyle--and each woman feels judged. Over time, those assumptions escalate into resentment and even fear.

Both Amanda and Thea are likeable and more importantly, easy to sympathize with. Their first awkward interactions show how much they want to be able to bond, but don't feel able to trust each other--or themselves. Although their narratives are indistinct from one another, Gross does an expert job of getting into each woman's head, and in doing so, shows us thoughts we all think at one time or another, no matter which side of the mother/work fence we're on, or even if we straddle it.

Motherhood, much more than choices in politics, food, clothing, or even socioeconomics, makes us vulnerable to tiny judgments. Why, when we call ourselves "tolerant" of others, do we think all mothers should move in lockstep? Why do our differences in maternal inclination make us believe we have less in common than we actually do?

The Other Mother relies on external events to change Amanda and Thea, some of which I wasn't sure were necessary; one in particular seemed a bit contrived for the sake of emotional impact. However, the fact that they do change their attitudes only after these events is not unrealistic. As people, we often find ourselves entrenched in our lives, believing we're unable to change our ways, until something happens to make us think maybe enough bad stuff happens in the world; maybe we should work harder to spread the love around. The Other Mother likewise works to make us think about ourselves, our relationships, and most of all, our assumptions—and what we can do to maintain more pragmatic expectations, instead of making a fantasy our goal.

It's contest time! Drop me a comment about the times you felt judged by another mother for the choices you made, and be eligible to win an advance reader copy of The Other Mother!

From Seuss to Spade?

2007-07-30T20:14:00.000-05:00

Conversation between Hamlet and Rain Dog at bedtime:

H: Daddy, tell me a story about a bad man.
R: What kind of bad man?
H: Just a bad man.
R: Does he stay bad, or become nice?
H: He stays bad.

Four years old and already thinking noirish thoughts. It's a crime writer's career dream come true.

Schmooze-worthy

2007-07-28T22:23:00.000-05:00

Thanks to LawMummy for saying I have a "schmooze-worthy" blog. This new award is given "to recognize those people that were exceptionally adept at creating relationships with other bloggers by making an effort to be part of a conversation, as opposed to a monologue." I now have to tag five other people I read and deem schmooze-worthy:

Sandra Ruttan
Patti Abbott
Mark Terry
Karen MacInerney
Natasha Fondren a.k.a. SpyScribbler

Thanks to all of you, too, for being schmooze-worthy yourselves!

AstroTurf (TM)

2007-07-26T22:24:00.000-05:00

I read somewhere that the grass on the other side of the fence is probably AstroTurf. It sounds cool, but then something is lost from the analogy - once you get to the other side, the grass there is still greener than the natural stuff on the side you were just on. Right?

This past spring I was counting the days until Rain Dog could be home with us all day, every day. I just wanted someone to help with the kids so I could work. And that dream came true. About a week after school ended, I was able to get some short stories completed that have gone on to be accepted here, here, and here. (Two won't be available till next year, but it's the acceptances that count.) It's been great. And yet I find myself once again looking forward to the start of school.

It's not that I hate having Rain Dog home. It's just that when he is, it completely blows our routine out of the water. To wit: with Daddy home and the days so hot, we have to find Fun Things to do. Whether these are trips to South Carolina or the lake or the mall, Fun Things are ever so much better than being trapped in the house with a bored 4-year-old and his teething brother. However, there's a caveat: invariably, said 4-year-old will sleep on the way home. This means no couple time at night... and no writing time, either.

Other mothers say that you conveniently forget the pain of childbirth, enough to continue to have children. Thank you, that has not been my experience. However, I'd argue that a writerly version of that old wives' tale is that you conveniently forget how little time there is, whether someone is available to watch the children or not. I guess it just goes to show the ever-present necessity of maximizing that time... and not feeling guilty when it doesn't come easy.

Really, what else could we do?

2007-07-18T22:57:00.000-05:00

On a recent road trip to South Carolina, we were pretty well prepared for bored children. The best advice I'd read online: make up games, but let the kids lead.

So it was with Hamlet. Before long he was asking us to help him make up stories. Rain Dog and I would start, then give Hamlet a turn. Before long, even Boris got a turn:

Rain Dog: "And there was a monster in the house! Boris, what did he monster want?"
Rain Dog as Boris: "Milk!"

Invariably, though, because we do after all have a 4-year-old boy, the stories ended up as so much potty humor. "And then the monster pooped!" But hey, it kept the kid entertained. What more could you ask on a 12-hour trip?

Answers.com contest entry

2007-07-09T11:57:00.000-05:00

Every time Sally saw Ed on a street corner, she wanted to ask him to come home. Something about his scraggly gray beard, skinny frame, and washed-out blue eyes made her feel both protective and guilty. Protective because he was still her husband, and not much more than a little boy lost. Guilty because she was the reason he was on the street in the first place.

To his credit, he never reminded her of that, even though she could see he recognized her. Maybe he was afraid she would assail him with the memories that flooded her every time she thought about taking him back. Maybe he was right.

The first thing she always remembered was the way his moods followed the seasons. What he called his "fertile times" came in spring and fall. His "fallow times" happened during summer and winter. But his moods weren't all that yawed like a yo-yo; their whole life together had, too. His bipolar disorder had been ubiquitous, suffused everything until she could no longer console herself with the idea that it was the disease, not the man, that was the problem.

The second thing she recalled were the manias. How he'd seduced her with the most quixotic mind-vacations she'd never thought possible: his plans to become the next Jackson Pollock, for one thing. His wildly romantic gestures, for another, especially the time he bought tickets to Belize for a flight departing the very next day. That was the Ed she'd met and dated.

On the other hand, there was the Ed she married—foolishly, just three months after meeting him—he was that persuasive. This disaffected Ed had appeared shortly after their wedding. His perfunctory response to her, when she found a brown recluse spider in the closet, had so enraged her that after she killed the spider—and its unhatched progeny—she found pictures of infected spider bites online and showed them to him, one by one, desperate for any response that showed he cared about what she felt. He gave none, just kept staring forward as if catatonic.

She'd tried to get treatment for him. He'd gone with her willingly. It was just that all the treatments involved drugs, which Ed wouldn't even consider. "They'll turn me into a zombie. They'll kill my creativity," he said, so mournfully that Sally didn't have the heart to insist that the bipolar disorder was what ultimately killed his creativity.

For all intents and purposes, then, Ed remained indistinct from his disease. That realization made Sally decide to pursue a campaign of quid pro quo. Selfish and immature, sure, but she couldn't just divorce him. She figured there had to be a way to snap him out of it.

She waited for autumn's manic episode. Then, the first thing she did was abrogate most of her housewifely responsibilities. She stopped doing the housework; she laundered only her own clothes, used paper plates while Ed continued to use china. He didn't notice.

She escalated her fear of bugs into an apparent case of melissophobia. Not much of a stretch. Still he didn't notice.

Then she stopped reacting to Ed. She didn't gush over his paintings or his plans as she once had. That was hardest of all, because he did notice. He'd gaze at her with disappointment, sadness even, and it was all she could do not to scream at him See how it feels. Shortly after that was when he left.

Sometimes she'd see sidewalk art that she thought was Ed's, but she never saw who created it. Just that it appeared most on her regular routes. At first she thought it was a punishment for the way she'd treated him in those final months: not to be able to tell him one last time how much she loved his work. Then she thought maybe it was a test, like in a fairy tale. If she caught him working, it would mean he was ready for her to take back.

Most recently, though, she thought it was a message. Come and join me. We couldn't work in your world, but maybe we can in mine.

On their second anniversary, Sally donned a long-sleeved t-shirt, light pants, and walking shoes. She tied a fleece sweater around her waist, left her key in an envelope for the landlord, then went downstairs into the sunshine. Ed's next fallow period was right around the corner. He'd need her.

Happy Birthday, USA

2007-07-04T08:58:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, we had some work done on our home to 1) remove bats and flying squirrels and 2) keep them from coming back. The man who did the work told me that he had been home from Iraq from about a year and a half. Coincidentally, one of our Terminix service guys, a military policeman, had orders to go back in August.

At some point I Googled our Critter Control guy. I needed his phone number and was too lazy to go through our paperwork looking for it. Instead, I found this article. Holy crap, I thought. The guy fixing our house has a Bronze Star?

Later that week, when he returned, we got to talking. Let's just say this man has very strong ideas about the war. Ideas that made me think. At one point he said, "The Iraqi people deserve their chance at freedom." That brought me up short. It had nothing to do with the president or vice president or their aides, nothing to do with anything except unadulterated altruism. The Iraqi people deserve a chance. If they choose against it, at least they had a choice. Isn't that what the United States is all about?

He didn't change my mind about the overall shenanigans in Washington, the lies that brought us to Iraq in the first place in an appalling case of ends not-quite-justifying the means. Closer to my view is this excellent op-ed by Keith Olbermann, who gave me chills when he ended his address with "Good night, and good luck." (Anyone see that movie? He really did evoke Murrow last night. Yes, folks, there's one broadcast journalist left who cares, and lets people know it.) Olbermann summed up my feelings nicely, about people in power who take full advantage of the fact that Americans are more interested in shopping and Paris Hilton than they are about, well, very much of anything else.

Thanks to a humble service provider, I can understand better when I see the families of dead servicemen telling us that their soldiers "died for freedom." Now I realize that's true, even if their deaths also happened to line someone else's pockets. It's with that in mind that I feel I can celebrate our country's birthday for the first time in years. I love the United States, the fact that the most important thing about democracy is the matter of choice - the free will that God Himself bestowed on us when He created us. Too bad the Islamist extremists don't recognize that choice in their interpretations of God.

No regrets, just life

2007-06-26T09:09:00.000-05:00

Lawmummy (a.k.a. Kelly), one of my fellow Disney ex-bloggers, has a heartbreaking post up today. It's about whether "kids being kids," while you are under a boatload of external stress already, can make you resent, and even regret, ever having had them to begin with.

As I commented on her post, I can so totally relate. The last six weeks of every school year mean I parent almost single-handedly, as Rain Dog focuses on finals and grading and panicky parents and students. This year was no different, with the last week of school especially grueling as I helped him grade finals late each night. Hamlet could tell that we were both preoccupied, and started to act out to get our attention. The more frustrated I got, the more he acted out: throwing toys, hitting us, and even hurting his brother. (You know - the hug that makes the baby cry?) Even after Rain Dog was home for a few days, it took Hamlet that long to return to his sweet self. Me, too.

In prior years, having Rain Dog home for 10 weeks has always been a tough transition. I expect that he'll be around to watch the kids so I can work (at long last), while he expects that I will continue to watch the kids so he can accomplish house projects he's been putting off. This year, I think we were both so relieved to have the school year over with that we were more willing to accommodate each other right from the get-go. We make trade-offs on a daily and sometimes an hourly basis. It's working so well that if healthcare weren't in such a horrible state in this country, I'd happily accept it if Rain Dog said he wanted to self-employ and work from home, too.

Going back to regrets, I think Kelly's post affected me especially because even apart from the last few weeks, the question "Would I have done it differently?" has been on my mind. The loss of Disney income is significant, and I have to find a way to make it up. My business model lately has involved the kind of work I can do in short bursts - around two needy kids - and, sadly, has been more reactive than proactive. That means I take work that's offered to me, but I don't go out looking for it - not while time is at a premium. And all I can think is how much easier it would be if I didn't have kids, or at least if they were older.

So, I've been doing what comes easiest: focusing on my network. I've talked to other freelancers and I now have a few potential freelance jobs, either from other mothers or people who understand my needs as a mother. That's a lot better than going to some freelance bid site and worrying about what I'm likely to get for a client.

Meanwhile, I'm enjoying my family. We still have a lot going on, but that week showed us what we don't want to be like - which has ultimately made it easier for us to enjoy each other as a family. That was the whole point of working from home to begin with.

Grassroots mamas

2007-06-19T08:50:00.000-05:00

I've never been much into politics. The folks in Washington seem as removed from me as I am from them. I'm not alone: approval ratings are low for both our Republican not-quite-lame-duck president and our Democratic congress, who are at a standoff regarding the things that matter most to us. As Rain Dog and I discussed yesterday, it seems that most people feel like change can no longer happen on a national level - only on a regional, even grassroots, level.

I joined MomsRising.org several months ago, but hesitated to "do" anything - even sign a petition - because, well, I'm not political. Besides, what could average people do? Then I got an email from them that showed exactly how ordinary people can still make a difference in this country. Mere weeks after receiving a message about their "Power of ONEsie" project, a new message showed that that project had led directly to paid family leave legislation in the state of Washington. I thought that was pretty amazing.

So far, I've signed two online petitions: one for healthcare for all children, and one for equal pay for equal work. I've never been much of a feminist either, but this isn't about bra-burning or man-hating... it's about putting ourselves in other families' positions and understanding their realities, where mothers are fired because they took time off for a child with a broken arm, and where parents work three or four jobs yet still have no healthcare for their children. Do people really think it's acceptable to have a childhood mortality rate that puts the United States behind 36 other nations?

For years, "special interests" have been excoriated for "ripping the country apart." Folks, without a majority that cares about much beyond Paris Hilton, special interests are all this country has left. MomsRising may be a special interest, but it's in our interest. Can you say the same about politicians?

June crunch

2007-06-13T12:50:00.001-05:00

Late spring is always a stressful time in our house. It's the end of the school year for Rain Dog, who must plan lessons and write final exams even as his students check out of class (most mentally, some physically). For the last four years, it's also been the time I need to complete Police & Security News' annual body armor update - tracking industry trends and reporting on the latest and greatest in body armor.

Needless to say, some aspects of child-rearing tend to slide during this time of year. Like fun trips to the park. And discipline. By mid-June, I may be able to talk about the latest and greatest aramid-polyethylene hybrids - but I'm more likely to be using my time and energy getting Hamlet to stop "comforting" Boris by blowing raspberries in his face (or worse).

A week from now I hope to be a lot more relaxed and believing that there is indeed more to life than time-outs and poopy diapers. But for now? Survival mode. Or else I'm going to find that person who said "You never regret the kids you have, only the ones you don't" and use her as a body-armor test model.

What it means to be a freelancing mother

2007-06-07T20:07:00.000-05:00

When you consider the day "good" because, despite being released from contract for a job that is a significant portion of your income, your almost-4-year-old pees on the potty for the first time. Because, you know, I won't need that income once I don't have to buy Pull-Ups anymore. Well... almost.

A quote

2007-06-06T06:49:00.000-05:00

From CriminalBrief's Robert Lopresti: "Somebody once said that the amateur writer feels guilty when he is writing, and the professional feels guilty when he isn’t."

Hmm. Where does that leave mothers who write? Somewhere in between amateur and professional - as both mothers and writers? Yeah, sounds about accurate.

(Lopresti went on to say, "I feel guilty either way which just proves I’m a writer who was raised Catholic.")

D.Z. Allen kindly published another of my short stories at Muzzle Flash. New readers: I write crime and horror fiction, so if this isn't your cup of tea, please don't be shocked by the rather gritty material that comes into my head. I swear it's a way of working out the demons!

A few updates

2007-06-03T15:12:00.000-05:00

It took a year, but my new and improved website is now up. Many, many thanks to Sandra, who put up with 1) my rather vague ideas about website design, 2) the year it took to implement her design, and 3) the delay in telling you all. Nonetheless, she did an excellent job in spite of being overextended herself. Thanks, Sandra!

Also, I finally got around to updating my blogroll over on the side there. I'd neglected it for way too long, but only because I was lazy, not because the love wasn't there. If you're not there and you want to be, or if you are there and don't want to be, leave a comment or shoot me an email (available in my profile). Just remember that I procrastinate. A lot.

Writing mysteries, raising boys: Julia Buckley

2007-05-30T09:15:00.000-05:00

Julia Buckley has a great post up at Inkspot about writing mysteries and raising sons. Read it and laugh. Or weep. Or both, since that's what I do on many days when I contemplate the next 18 years!

What's with the book reviews?

2007-05-27T09:43:00.001-05:00

I'm sure all three of you have been wondering what's up with the book reviews-for-entries lately. Well, you'd be right that it's a way for me to keep blogging here at A Vocational Duality, in the absence of pithier how-I-do-it posts. But it's also about the fact that book reviews are getting short shrift lately in print publications. My thinking is, we mothers are busy people. We don't have the time anymore to browse bookstores looking for that perfect book or series, so we need recommendations. At the same time, many of us are seeing our own books published, and need the support. With newspapers cutting back review space, blogs will become ever more important for these reasons.

So, I'm helping to buzz books that moms will like. Oh, and in the interests of full disclosure, the $20 gift certificates to Amazon.com don't hurt!

In other news, Poynter.org's Chip Scanlan discusses the "brief, daily session," which can be seen as a huge boon to busy writing mothers. “Learn to accept the planned outputs of brief, daily sessions as all the writing you need or want to do for the day," he quotes. "Being able to enjoy evenings, weekends and vacations without supposing you should be writing is an essential pleasure.” For himself, Scanlan writes, "For writers, granularity can serve as an approach to successfully breaking up writing projects, from deadline stories to more ambitious projects such as essays, articles and books, into multiple and manageable tasks, literary grains of sand, if you will. Otherwise, you may end up buried by the mountain of sand you think you have to climb."

That's helpful. I've found myself writing in 300-word spurts - whether blog entries for Family.com, a piece of flash fiction, or a paragraph or two in a short story or novel. The brief, daily sessions help me retain a sense of success in my fiction career while I'm caring for my boys. That I continue to work toward my goal even though I don't have a six-hour block of time to write in each day.

Speaking of flash fiction, you can find new stories at Powder Burn Flash and Flash Pan Alley. Happy reading!

From fearlessness to paranoia

2007-05-18T08:46:00.000-05:00

I'm a paranoid mother. I wrote about my paranoia recently on my Family.com blog. And there was that story I wrote for the Blog Short Story Project this year. Which was why the latest MotherTalk Blog Bonanza is so interesting: we're buzzing "The Dangerous Book for Boys."

True, our kids are more protected now than ever before. But I tend to think that's in response to the more we know, and the more we have. Fifty years ago, sneakers were enough to play. Now we know the kind of shoes, their fit, and how they wear all affect a person's athletic prowess - no matter how young or old. Why else do pediatricians recommend a baby's first set of walking shoes come from Stride Rite, or orthotics for a teenager's shinsplints?

Maybe we do go a bit overboard. For instance, just this morning, Hamlet fell down on his way in to preschool. Tripped over a bit of sidewalk and sprawled in the doorway. "I want to go home!" he screamed. Now, another mother may have let him do just that. But I knew he wasn't hurt - simply embarrassed. And I knew he'd get over it as soon as someone distracted him. Sure enough, the preschool teacher pulled out the Play-Dough - and off he went.

Meanwhile, Boris was still in the car, which I remembered I'd left unlocked. Because 1) it takes but seconds to walk from car to preschool. And 2) I hadn't anticipated I'd need to take more time with Hamlet. And 3) it was pouring rain out. And 4) all the other parents leave their babies in their cars. And 5) the preschool is on a private road. In the trees. In a very rural area.

Never mind all that; my paranoia kicked in. All I wanted was to get out the door and make sure no one had grabbed him. Irrational as hell? Yes, absolutely. But things happen. No matter that they are "isolated"; they still happen. Unbalanced women desperately want children. Pedophiles lurk everywhere, even in my secluded little corner of the woods. These things have been true for generations, giving rise to better security systems on maternity wards and state sex offender registries.

What has not been true for generations, however, is the fact that families and friends are more spread out than ever before, denying people of critical support systems. A "maiden aunt" had plenty of nieces and nephews to care for, and everyone knew - and told their kids to avoid - the "strange man" down the street. These days, the Internet has replaced those support systems - not just for family members, but for pedophiles too. It's so much easier to decide to assault a child when 1) no one knows who you really are*; 2) the chat room you're on effectively depersonalizes that child and 3) you've got other pedophiles telling you that you're normal and okay!

While it's a sad fact that those bygone family support systems often covered up and glossed over in-family sexual and domestic violence, we do know so much more about those problems now that it is simply prudent to be vigilant. As for the rest of it? Well, I probably won't put knee pads on my boys every time they play outside. But I sure won't leave them alone, not until they are old enough to understand "stranger danger." A little paranoia, in my opinion, is worth it.

*This is why I am not in favor of laws that keep sex offenders out of towns altogether. Away from daycare centers and schools, certainly. But I'd much rather know who and where they are, than have them driven underground.

The fearless freelancing mother

2007-04-27T06:37:00.000-05:00

Back in 2000, I hated my job at a university computer help desk so much that I was willing to do just about anything to get out. So I did: I started my own freelance writing business. My birthday present to myself was leaving the workplace. I figured if it didn't pan out, I could always go back to tech support - in a different company. But it did pan out. Within two months, I made my first sale. My first article appeared in October 2001, and the following year I got contracts that carried me through 2002. I felt I'd arrived. You could say I was, in a word, fearless.

That all changed in late 2002, when I found out I was pregnant with my first child. Even though I'd started to freelance with an eye toward staying home with children, reality scared me badly. I got an inkling of what it might be like when I totally lost my brain, when the hormones made me so scattered that I had to wonder if this was what it was like to work around a talkative, active little boy. (It is, only louder, though it is slightly easier to pick up the thread of what I was doing.)

Fortunately, I was working for editors who were also parents - or becoming parents. One was pregnant with her fifth child, due not long before me. The other's wife was due with their first, just a few weeks after me. They were sympathetic and supportive, and they waited for me during my protracted maternity leave.

Pregnant with #2, I found I wasn't quite so fearful. The placenta brain wasn't so bad this time around, and even though Hamlet had dropped his nap the year before, I was able to take on other work that didn't necessitate blocks of quiet time. Fearlessness came once I realized the most crucial aspect of working at home with children: to succeed, I had to find ways to be flexible. To be willing to change the type of work I was willing to do, to change my expectations about my time - and my kids'.

This year sees me blogging for a Disney subsidiary, continuing the work I did for an architectural PR firm, and a few other odds and ends to keep my irons in the public-safety fire. In other words, six years after I first quit my "real" job, I'm still a successful freelancer - and a successful mother, too. That knowledge keeps me fearless that whatever life throws my way, I'll be able to handle it and still survive.

* This post brought to you today by MotherTalk, which is promoting the release of Arianna Huffington's new book, "Becoming Fearless." Thanks to Miriam Peskowitz for inviting me to participate!

Playing catch-up

2007-04-24T08:03:00.000-05:00

I had such plans for this past week. Rain Dog was on vacation. We were going to clean out our embarrassingly cluttered basement; I was going to work on a manuscript or two, my website, and yes, this blog.

Instead, we lost power for three days. I've been playing catch-up ever since. Hope to be back soon with a pithier post, but instead, I leave you with the reading list I amassed for my birthday:

Suspicious Circumstances
To the Power of Three
What the Dead Know
The Guards
The Brooklyn Follies

Spring has sprung

2007-03-31T08:00:00.000-05:00

I saw robins on the grass yesterday. Robins!! In northern New England in March!!

Spring means new starts, so I'm bringing other news: now that the kids are more or less in a routine, my career is more or less back on track. To wit:

Spinetingler published one of my short stories, "Dream House," in its new Spring 2007 edition.

And in a moment of sheer insanity, I did an on-site interview in preparation for a new article. After I said I wasn't doing any more articles because I had no time or enough childcare to do interviews. However, this is local. That has less to do with arranging childcare than with the fact that it involves the fire department whose EMTs delivered my son... so everyone knows I have young kids. We'll see how that shakes out. I'm still querying markets for that one.

Meanwhile, I have my eye on other short story markets, including some contests. It's all about putting the work out there - especially when writing it can be agonizingly slow at times!

Unzipping my lip

2007-03-21T17:31:00.000-05:00

In December I blogged about a new opportunity for which I had signed a non-disclosure agreement. I wasn't sure I would take the job - I was required to sell all rights - but in the end, medical bills caught up to us. Besides, I figured the world has enough "momoirs" and other parenting books that I probably wouldn't need to use this specific material again.

My new job is at Family.com, a new Disney venture that has me very excited. I'm one of almost two dozen bloggers talking specific areas of family life - finances, hobbies, health, cooking; my blog is mostly about attachment parenting, although some health and public safety topics make their way in there. You can't write about something for over five years and not have it creep into other work!

You can read - and comment on - the new blog at http://family.go.com/blog/BrideofRainDog. I hope to see you there!

The worst part about creativity vs. mothering

2007-03-16T13:04:00.000-05:00

I'm maxed out today. I told Rain Dog that I keep looking for a reserve of patience to tap and I don't have one. I know exactly what the problem is: I haven't written anything substantive in two weeks.

Two weeks ago, I got to hide upstairs in our "study." (That means there's a desk and two bookcases in a small room, which also contains the diaper changing table and some junk we haven't found a home for since we moved in.) I finished revisions on an entire novel chapter that day. It was excellent.

Since then, however, I've only been able to noodle - sentence here, paragraph there. I have solid ideas in my head and no way to get them on paper. Even when Hamlet is in preschool, Boris usually demands to be held for most of those two hours. Just try to type anything when you've got a four-month-old grabbing for the keyboard.

Times like these, I wish I were one of those mothers who lives for nothing but kids. You know, the ones who run home daycares because they loooove kids so much. I may not have endless patience, but I feel like I might enjoy them a little more.

Which is foolish. I do enjoy my kids, very much. I enjoy them even more when I've had a good writing day. Like yesterday: I did my first on-site interview in four years. Had a great rapport with the interviewee, on a subject I was really into. Got home, spent the rest of the day having a good time with the boys.

I guess I just wish it was the boys who recharged my batteries, rather than an activity that pulls me away from them. But I'm not wired that way, so I guess it's just about enjoying the time I do have with them to the fullest.

Ken Bruen Appreciation Day

2007-03-12T09:42:00.000-05:00

Sandra has declared March 12 Ken Bruen Appreciation Day, to show support for a very well-known author who is, despite his great successes, nothing but humble and kind to everyone he meets - especially fans and new authors.

I have to admit that I have neither met Mr. Bruen nor read his books (which I am quite embarrassed about, even given my time constraints). However, after reading so much about him, I've put him first on my TBB/TBR list.

What does this have to do with writing and parenting? Maybe not much; I don't even know if Mr. Bruen has children. However, considering that Hamlet has been learning his first lessons about the nasty ways people can treat other people - no matter how nice a person you are, or how well you treat others - I think "nice" is not a quality that should be taken for granted. More importantly, people do exist that we can point to as those our children should emulate. By all accounts, Mr. Bruen is just such a person. That, if nothing else about him, deserves all the appreciation we can give.

Blogging a Fantasy: A Short Story

2007-03-04T20:08:00.000-05:00

As part of the 2007 Blog Short Story Project (thanks, Bryon and Dave), I'm posting the following short story. This, incidentally, is the reason why you will not see photos of my kids here anytime soon....

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Blogging a Fantasy

I've never had much faith in the Internet's so-called power to bring people together. That is, until I saw my pretty princess for the first time. Then my assumptions about everything changed.

I don't even remember how I found her blog. I probably Googled models, or something. All I remember is seeing her picture. Some photo shoot she'd just come back from. God, she was beautiful. Curly brown hair down her back, delicate bone structure, perfect fit in her clothes no matter the cut or color.

But it was her face most of all, her shining pixie face. Her wide eyes were liquid crystal blue; her lips, pink Cupid's-bow perfection. I go to sleep dreaming of those lips.

The blog, a running account of her nascent modeling career, made it so easy for me to follow her. For six months, I traveled to the cities she visited, watched her walk runways and perform songs and show everyone how special she was. Once I even got into a pageant's backstage. That was a trip. It turned out just the same as in the movies--I knocked out a maintenance guy, dressed in his clothes and walked around the dressing areas and makeup booths for a while. What an opportunity. It could only have been destiny.

That was why I tried to get close to her for the first time. The only problem was, there were too many people around. Even so, a glimpse was enough. She was dressed like a harem girl. Exquisite.

The next week, a harem-girl photo was posted, along with a beach photo, a cowgirl photo, and an evening-wear photo. I couldn't help it. I started posting comments, anonymously, of course. How pretty you are, I said. You'll go far in the industry. Because it wasn't just the outfits, or even the whole package. It was the sparkle in her eyes, the way she got into each "role," her movements. I mentioned all that, too.

The next week, anonymous comments had been disabled. That upset me. I only wanted to encourage her. I used the name of a girl I liked in high school, left a comment about how much I admired her ability to shine through the lesser talent.

My big chance came two weeks after that, in the post that told me she would be in a modeling show at the Maine Mall. Just fifteen minutes from home, the entry said.

I Googled the Maine Mall, then went over to Priceline.com and set up my trip, a nice plane ticket-hotel-rental car package. It would have to be my last trip, though, or else I'd lose my job. That was okay, though. I had big plans for this trip.

Once I got to Portland, I found everything exactly where Mapquest said it would be, and the rest by observation and instinct. Watched the show like I always did. Mediocre little production, clearly a local affair. Beneath my princess, who was as always the star of the show.

I followed her to her car when it was done. Memorized the license plate, make, and model. Back at the hotel, I searched on her last name. I found a few matches in the general area. Then I went to find her.

Success came three hours later, around dinnertime. She lived in Gorham, in a nice cul-de-sac. I matched the address with the car.

I drove by a couple of times, planned how I would take her. It wouldn't be hard if I did it at night. She was an only child, and I could take care of her parents if I had to. Joseph Edward Duncan III took care of a whole family out in Idaho.

Before I do her mother, though, I'll thank her. If she hadn't posted those pictures of my princess on her blog, I never would've found her.
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Link to other great short stories from Bryon's blog.

Cars and the writing process

2007-03-03T08:50:00.000-05:00

Hamlet recently got into the movie Cars. (This is but one of many reasons why fast, loud cars must be a matter of nature, not nurture: we are not NASCAR fans. But I digress.) It's a movie that's on the long side for kids, but has plenty of speed and noise for them and enough character development for the adults watching with them.

Like many DVDs, this one contains extras like deleted scenes. These are what caught my eye, for two reasons:

First, these scenes--there are four of them--contain bits of action and dialogue that made it into the final production, but not in the same context or sequence. Second, the scenes are old in movie years. Cars came out just last year, but some scenes date back to 2002.

Watching other creative works take shape like this fascinates me. As these scenes show, revision is absolutely critical. Some things make sense, but make even more sense when put together a different way. Others are attractive, but detract from the story's overall point; thus they must be cut. And making things make sense takes time--sometimes a lot of it.

It's nice to see depth in a kids' film, but even nicer to see depth that reinforces certain truths about creation.

Back to work

2007-02-25T10:57:00.000-05:00

The past few weeks saw a trial by fire, of sorts, as I got back to work with several projects due on the same day. In my past life as a writer with no kids, the workload would have been light. But now, one article, one edit, and a PR piece was a lot.

First, Boris got an ear infection. Having to be on amoxicillin made him poop like a newborn for two weeks straight, but at least he wasn't crying constantly. Still I ended up in a pattern of work-nurse-work-nurse-play with Hamlet for five minutes-work-nurse-work-nurse. See where this is going? Hamlet began to feel neglected, and started to act out.

That problem was easily remedied once the jobs were complete. I took him food shopping alone one day; another day I didn't touch the computer. Rain Dog also had a week off (great timing, state department of education!) and we had a good mix of quiet days home and fun things. However, it does touch on a problem I've had since high school: I work much better under pressure and last-minute.

I have learned by now that everything is "under pressure and last-minute" when you have children, yet I still goof off because "I still have time." Once upon a time I was the only one who had to deal with the consequences (though there usually weren't any), but now other people--small dictatorial people--have to deal with them too. Solution: retrain myself to take those five-minute bits of time more seriously. But hey, I've got 15 years to do it. Right?

We have a (blog) name

2007-02-15T08:31:00.000-05:00

I'm happy to report that I finally came up with a blog name for Hamlet's little brother.

First, thanks to all for the suggestions. I seriously considered Horatio, but couldn't keep from associating it with David Caruso's highly annoying CSI: Miami character. (Sorry, CSI fans!) Other suggestions, including Romeo and Banquo, seemed premature without our knowing more about him.

Like his temperament. I considered our family nickname for him--"Grumpy"--but while it took into account the frown he's worn since birth, it did not consider his other moods: Sleepy, Fussy, Nursy, or yes, even Happy.

We arrived at the name quite by accident. It was a cold day and we were going out, so I dressed the baby in a turtleneck onesie and lined jogging pants. My husband* took one look at him and burst out laughing. "He looks like a Bulgarian mobster," he said. And you know, he did. I think it was the baby-fat jowls. And, well, the frown.

And so, folks, I give you: Boris.

*Bonus: husband gets a name too. Henceforth he will be known as "Rain Dog." *waves at the bevy of Tom Waits fans who read my blog*

A shout-out meme

2007-02-05T10:52:00.000-05:00

I'm starting a new meme. Whether it seriously circulates is another matter, but I'm giving it a shot. You see, recently we went through the most depressing day of the year. Moreover, almost everyone I know is sick - and has been for weeks. For many of us, the bitter cold is keeping us inside and isolated. If you're a Bears fan, you were disappointed at the Superbowl. And there's the general bad stuff in everyday news.

So here's the meme: shout out to the people who have helped you in gloriously unexpected, helpful, or just-when-you-needed-it-most ways. (I got the idea from Mary Louisa, and good friends' amazing generosity.)

My good friend Meagan has equipped nearly half my office in the last few months. Paying close attention to my blog entries, which mentioned a lack of cordless phone and my ancient PDA, she sent me new or gently used versions of both. I can now be productive without my phone's handset bopping the baby in the head, and still chase Hamlet. Moreover, my new blogging job requires me to have a digital camera. I almost jokingly asked Meagan if she had a spare lying around, then decided I'd sound way too much like a mooch if I did that. Instead I posted on a forum (to which we both belong), asking where I could get a cheap digital camera. And you know what? She did have a spare. And she's sending it to me.

Meagan's generosity is astounding, and her blog is going to be a good one - she's very passionate about the people and things she cares about. Meagan, you're a great friend - if you ever need anything, just give a holler!

Props also to my friend Becky - a former editor-turned-freelancer when she had her second child - who did something similar when she sent me the almost-new printer that didn't work with her new computer, just when mine had broken. She doesn't read blogs, but she deserves a shout-out anyway. She, like my dear friend Mary Louisa, listens to me whine a lot about working with two little kids at home. ;)

So there it is. I'm tagging anyone who wants to spread a little love around, make people feel good and show your readers that nice people still do exist!

The Mama sandwich

2007-01-31T17:56:00.000-05:00

The small fussy person in our household has determined that bedtime shall be at 10-10:30 every night without fail. Normally this is not a problem. But last night, I just was not tired.

Solution: bring writing to bed. I have an ancient Palm IIIe whose Memo Pad works just fine for writing scenes and stories (and blog entries) when I can't be near my computer. I use it in the car, at family gatherings, and anywhere else the bug bites me. Last night, that place was my bed... sandwiched between my two sons.

We co-sleep, have since Hamlet was his brother's age.* "Sandwich" is not a lightly applied term. You know how peanut butter and jelly and bread become one unit, the longer they are mushed together? I wrote, on my belly, until my elbows went numb and Hamlet's feet threatened my spleen and the little guy had wiggled so close that he was practically under me. Then I decided it was time for sleep. After all, peanut butter and jelly do squish out when you squeeze the bread slices too hard.

I worried that two children would spell the end of my writing, but I needn't have: the evening proves that as long as I'm willing to be flexible, my various roles can--and do--converge.

*Safely. Guidelines here.

Doing what comes naturally

2007-01-15T17:29:00.000-05:00

Before Hamlet's brother* was born, I heard from several moms who all told me: writing can wait; motherhood comes first.

They're halfway right. Over the last three years, I've often rearranged my business plan--even deadlines and potential opportunities--to accommodate Hamlet. At the risk of professionalism? Probably; "family-friendly" isn't a quality that extends indefinitely, even from the most accommodating employers.

I'd planned, therefore, to take indefinite maternity leave. I knew it would take time to accustom Hamlet to his brother; besides, the holidays would be upon us. And, for the first two weeks after the baby was born, I cared nothing about work. "Maybe my maternal instinct finally kicked in after three years," I joked to a friend, who also mothers more than she freelances.

But no. At three weeks postpartum, the hormones apparently subsided enough to let the writing instinct back in. Writing, as it turned out, could not wait.

Although I sometimes wonder what I'm thinking, the reality is, I need to write more than ever. You know, that peace of mind thing: i.e., "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." I've found that the kids still come first, which is why it took me several weeks (rather than an hour or two) to write this entry. Meanwhile, I've found flexibility--what Lauren Baratz-Logstead cleverly called "working between the cracks"--is key. I've noticed Hamlet is a lot easier to deal with when I'm off the computer and using my ancient Palm IIIe; somehow it makes me more accessible while I get the same amount of writing done. And that's a huge relief--to both of us.

*Nope, still no blog name. I decided to wait until we know more about his personality.

Reflux redux

2007-01-09T19:38:00.000-05:00

I was really, really hoping to avoid it this time. To the extent that I cut dairy from my diet the moment Hamlet's little brother, at two weeks of age, started to spit up and generally seem uncomfortable with digestion. But alas, just a few weeks after that, we started to hear milk come back up the esophagus, and from there we escalated to crankiness (his and mine), and finally vomiting (his, not mine).

Fortunately, I have a pediatrician who understands that mothers are pretty good at diagnosing disorders they've already experienced, so all it took was a phone call to have a Pepcid prescription phoned in. Which is already working; the child is back to his normal good-natured self. And that's good, because we've run up against a few issues that require cash outlays. I need to get back to work sooner rather than later, and to do that effectively, I need a happy baby!

The good news is, it looks like the blogging opportunity is going to happen - more on that soon, I hope - and clients I worked for last year are asking when my maternity leave is up. It's good to be in demand.

In memoriam, Part III

2006-12-31T22:07:00.000-05:00

Don Murray died this past Saturday.

In addition to being a world-class writer, he was a class human being, too. I can say that with certainty not only because of the way his students talk about him, but also because of the way he treated me way back before I was a professional writer - while I was a techie peon working the computer Help Desk at the University of New Hampshire. He was a professor emeritus who needed help setting up his email. At a job where the professors are not the nicest people in the world to assist, he was one of the nicest people I'd ever encountered - not just polite, but warm, even friendly.

I was tempted to say that the writing world has lost something special, but the truth is, we haven't "lost" anyone so much as we've been challenged - to learn and practice not only writing, but also humility: Murray-style.

Decisions, decisions

2006-12-15T13:33:00.000-05:00

I have an opportunity to blog professionally for the launch website of a large, well-known corporation. They want me to sign a nondisclosure agreement, so I'm not comfortable naming names, but suffice to say it does sound interesting. My only hesitation: they want to buy all rights.

Never sell all rights is one of the cardinal rules of writing professionally. It ranks right up there with Money always flows to the writer, a.k.a. Never pay to get published. That's because the corporation can profit indefinitely from reprints, and the writer will never see a penny beyond what she was initially paid.

My guess is that because it's a large corporation, the compensation will be decent. Probably not enough to cover those potential future profits, but what I don't know can't hurt me, right? The National Writers Union would hiss and spit and probably ban me for life if I did choose to take this job - it's a matter of principle, after all - but one of the reasons I didn't renew my membership is that I didn't see them addressing the question of what to do when you are a parent working from home who needs an additional source of income in the coming year. Principles at that point become varying shades of gray.

What I'll probably end up doing is signing the nondisclosure agreement and then seeing what they have to say about compensation. Then would come a discussion with the husband, who, ironically, is reading a book about ethical literacy and how to make those funky "right vs. right" decisions in life. We'll see what comes of it all!

Welcome to the world

2006-11-25T20:12:00.000-05:00

Just about fourteen hours after my last blog post, my second son arrived on this earth. So far he's managed to one-up his brother: Shakesperean though Hamlet's tantrums may be, the wee one's entrance itself was a tad more dramatic than any of us anticipated. Four hours of active labor (which, after the last week, I didn't believe was really that active until I was already in transition) brought us to the back of an ambulance, where a team of extremely professional paramedics delivered their first baby ever. They get to put a blue stork on their rig. I get to live with him.

So far, his main activities consist of nursing and sleeping. He appears to have become used to Hamlet's own extremely loud and incredibly close activities, because he sleeps right through them with nary a startle. We'll just see how long that lasts. As for Hamlet, he seems to be adjusting okay to his brother's existence. I think it helped that he got to see fire trucks and flashing lights. And that he doesn't have to share his toys. Yet.

I'm still thinking of a "blog name" for the little critter. Meanwhile, welcome to the world, son. I hope I can make it a good place for you.

Distractions

2006-11-19T11:06:00.000-05:00

In an effort to stop thinking about the prodromal labor I've experienced for the last week (preceded by pre-labor for three weeks - isn't nature fun? And so unpredictable!), these are the things that have been floating around my mind:

My website. Nearly a year ago, Sandra designed a really nice one for me. Which I never put up. Recently I discovered that the account I was using to host it was deactivated. So now, not only do I need to re-register my domain name and put together the website, I now need low-cost hosting. Which leads me to my second issue:

Finances. When I had Hamlet, I planned on taking 12 weeks off before I returned to work. That would give me plenty of time to get into a routine, right? Wrong. He developed a milk protein allergy and a soy protein sensitivity around 6 weeks. This took us weeks to correct, then the holidays came along. By the time all was resolved, I'd had 6 months off from work, which really put a financial hurtin' on us.

We recovered, but the whole thing has me wondering about work post-Hamlet's little brother. I have a regular gig for one of my "anchor" trade magazines, and the editor I worked for last spring is hoping I'll be back to work for her again soon. That leaves the client I've had a bit of trouble with, between late payments and the fact that freelancing can make communication - via phone or email - very difficult at times. Still, the money is good, so I need to think on that a little more. Especially if I have to pay for website hosting.

Speaking of Hamlet's little brother, I need a "blog name" idea, but I'm too lazy to go looking in my book o' Shakespeare for one. I had thought of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, but typing those out every time I want to talk about them? Again: lazy. Plus not particularly inspiring. I'm taking ideas, but unfortunately can't offer a contest. You'd be making suggestions from the goodness of your heart.

Meanwhile: waiting waiting waiting!

Fears

2006-10-31T10:04:00.000-05:00

I've blogged before about what a sensitive little kid Hamlet is. Recently, though, it's been cropping up more frequently: a function more of his age, I think, than any other factor. I'm just thankful that a year of speech therapy gave him the ability to express himself.

It started with his first ever story: "Monsters and creatures are out there. They have sharp teeth and sharp claws. And they're COMING TO GETCHA!" (I swear, we have not been letting him watch our movies. I think we may have discussed The Descent in front of him once, but only in oblique terms. Really.)

More details have been added to the monsters and creatures; monsters resemble dinosaurs, while creatures resemble foliage (he'll point to bushes and tell us they're creatures). Meanwhile, he's found other things to be afraid of: the branch that fell on our roof from a tree, the bee that stung him at this one particular neighbor's house. Someday I need to call her and tell her why we haven't been over for playdates.

Interestingly, we can never tell what he's likely to be afraid of. Some things he would rather meet head on, like monsters and creatures. And Corpse Bride. Others send him into a tailspin. Our way of helping him deal with it? Stories. We tell him, for instance, that Mama Branch gave all the little branches their bath and put them to sleep already, so they won't fall on our roof anymore. (We cross our fingers while we tell him this.) Next up will be the story of a forklift, which he loved watching until it started heading in our direction.

It's quite fascinating to me to realize that he's learning, even at 3, how to deal with nightmares the same way people have dealt with them for millenia: by telling stories that take the edge off, that remind us it is often within our power to exorcise the demons. Although he's a very hands-on kid, he's started to come up to me while I'm writing to ask me: "Mama, are those words you're making? Are those letters?" Yes, they are. Me putting my own fears to rest, most likely. I think I may have found the thing I need to get me through these next few weeks of uselessness. It all comes back to the stories, doesn't it?

Occupational hazard?

2006-10-09T11:23:00.000-05:00

Neither the husband or I are much into children's TV programming or music. We are, however, into horror movies, crime fiction, and Tom Waits. And we're both creative. So I'm going to call it an occupational hazard when things like this happen:

Children's show (CS): "It was a beautiful, peaceful morning at Caillou's house, at least until..."
Christa's imagination (CI): "... the zombies began to invade the backyard." (I have zombies on the brain. Yesterday, on our anniversary date, we discovered that Max Brooks has a new novel out. I think it's one of the best pieces of zombie fiction I've ever seen.)

CS: "Heh-heh. Wendy's not heeeere."
CI: "She fell into Dizzy's cement mixer. Scoop swore it was an accident, but now she's at the bottom of Mr. Bentley's foundation."

CS: "We had a lot of problems with that goat."
CI: "So we stewed it for dinner the next night."

We do a lot of extremely off-color things too, though we wait until the kid is in bed, and anyway that stuff comes mostly from the mind of the husband. Men.

I'm just trying to figure out which came first. Would I come up with such things if I didn't write crime fiction? Or is it a good thing that I write crime fiction, which provides an outlet? Hmmm...

Introducing Anne Frasier's Pale Immortal

2006-09-04T21:03:00.000-05:00

Today I am pleased to be part of the "blog crawl" for Anne Frasier's latest book, Pale Immortal, which is being released today. Anne is quite possibly one of the most approachable authors on the Internet; her blog is highly entertaining, and she's much better than I am at answering her email. Moreover, she's a damn good writer. I really enjoyed her creepily atmospheric Play Dead; a sense of place is important to her, and it shows. That's why I'll be looking forward to pick up Pale Immortal.

Anne isn't "just" an accomplished author; she's also a mom. Although she doesn't blog very much about her private life, I was intrigued when she mentioned that her daughter had designed her website. I've often wondered what Hamlet and his brother will think of my writing career as they grow older, and ways that I can involve them in my work. So I was very pleased when Anne agreed to shed a little more light on how she did it:

I started writing 20 years ago when my youngest was two. I told myself I would give up if I hadn’t sold by the time she entered kindergarten. When it was time to send her off to school, it hadn’t happened, but I’d had some fairly decent nibbles. “Well, she only goes to school two or three days a week. That’s not real school.” I gave it another year. Before she started first grade I made my first sale. But I probably would have kept going, or at least returned to writing somewhere along the line.
People often ask my kids, “What’s it like having a writer for a mom?” But they can’t remember a time when I didn’t write. They’ve gone to conferences and book signings. I took my daughter to a Paris book event. Paris, Illinois. It was a frigid, gray day. A late winter storm had blown in, with temperatures dropping thirty degrees in an hour. We arrived in Paris after dark. A little town lost, dying, with a square and beautiful empty buildings. We were put up in an old folks home that had originally been a hospital. A sprawling white monstrosity right out of a Stephen King novel. An elevator took us to the top floor where we were the only occupants. Down to a white room with white sheets and white towels and a white bedspread. Plus a little white door about two feet high that neither of us would open.

Martha is now grown, with a degree in Scandinavian language and film. She starts a fellowship this fall, but she’s still fairly active in my writing career. She designed my website, and created an amazing book video for Pale Immortal. She and my son (a recording engineer) did the soundtrack. People watch it and say, “The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Heh!

View the video, listen to mp3s, and read the first two chapters of Pale Immortal here: http://paleimmortal.blogspot.com/

The first day of preschool

2006-09-01T08:22:00.000-05:00

We weren't going to send Hamlet to preschool this year. Neither of us thought he was ready for it; we thought that, because he'd be one of the youngest kids in the class (he's a July baby), he'd be behind. We held that assumption right up till this past spring, when I took him to the playground and... he actually started interacting with other children.

Long story short, he proved himself over the summer to be more than ready for preschool. We found one that provides age-appropriate activities to promote literacy and socialization both, and off he went. Never looked back, in fact. It wasn't unlike Jeff Shelby's experience with his little daughter.

Me? I got 2 hours to work in peace. And although I would've liked to have been there to see how his first day went, I didn't feel guilty about leaving him behind. It seems we both needed this time. Now I just have to try not to get used to it!

My job as a teaching opportunity

2006-08-30T19:44:00.000-05:00

Literary agent Kristin Nelson posted this very interesting item today. You can even read a comment I left for her!

In short, she received a nastygram from a parent upset that she'd rejected a child's query letter. I can sooo relate. That's because at least once a quarter, my husband, a high school history teacher, brings home at least one story of a parent who wasn't happy with a decision he made about their child's education. Whether it was to fail them or issue a lower grade or, heck, kick them out of his room for distracting other kids, these parents felt that he had done their children a tremendous disservice.

It constantly amazes me that parents would rather become part of the "instant gratification" mania that makes people think they are entitled to whatever they want, whenever they want, than train their children that life is unfair, there's a time and a place for everything, and it's important to learn how to make lemonade of lemons. (Forgive the cliches. I want to get back to my rewrite.)

I've already seen this in play with Hamlet - and honestly, among other parents on the playground. We tell our kids to share, to take turns, not to push; if they push, it's a time-out. And if the other kids don't want to play with my kid - in other words, if they reject him - I don't scold them or their parents; I reassure Hamlet that sometimes other kids just don't want to play, and he can do his own thing. Often he figures this out on his own. (He's got a leg up on me. I spent years taking that kind of thing personally.) I advocated for him exactly once. We were at a friend's house, her kids were playing rough and he was scared, so I asked them to find a quieter game. They did.

It is clear that even at the age of 3, he's starting to learn the hard way about rejection. While our natural instinct as parents is to protect our children, we would be better served to think of ourselves as a "safe place" within which to learn them. In other words, we are not the ones rejecting - our job is to put the rejection into context, give it some perspective. I think a lot of parents have a hard time with this most of all because rejection of their children represents their own failures. I'd like to think, however, that whatever Hamlet decides to do with his life, my career can serve as a guide for him. I've had a ridiculously easy time getting accepted in some places - and a ridiculously hard time, like every other writer, in others. I'd like someday to be able to tell him, "Yeah, rejection sucks. Let me try to help you improve."

In closing, I will take the opportunity to link to one of Kristin's other commenters, Liane, with whom I agreed. Her most recent post is about not making excuses as to why one can't write. It's a very motivational, powerful item for a writing mother to read. And I think it ties in, in a roundabout way, to the whole "life is unfair" concept. As her end point shows, it's all about hard work and perseverance - not entitlement. You want something bad enough, you work for it. Otherwise, really, what's the point?

I said I would never....

2006-08-19T12:12:00.000-05:00

As mothers, we all have things we swore on the graves of our ancestors we would never do. For instance, co-sleeping. I was brought up to believe it was the worst possible thing you could do to a child; never mind the dangers of suffocating - you might actually spoil your child! Of course, that lasted until about two hours after bedtime, the first night we brought Hamlet home. Once I figured out that it was easier to night-nurse while lying down, that was the end of the no-cosleeping vow.

Another no-freakin-way-you-can't-make-me vow was never to subject us to children's music. Many variations of this exist. There are the classical CDs in which Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach are played only in the tinkling notes of the lullaby mobile. There are kids-only musicians like Raffi. And there are musicians, like Laurie Berkner, who write and play for kids, but supposedly appeal to grown-ups too.

Not this grown-up. I don't know what it is about kids' music; maybe the lack of angst. In any case, Hamlet's Dad sang songs by Tom Waits and The Beatles to him. He still loves them, plus songs by Gorillaz and Los Lobos and even Audioslave. And he recognizes jazz when he hears it on Mr. Rogers, which makes me very happy.

So I guess it was out of a sense of fairness that I allowed him to listen to the Sesame Street "Dreamytime Songs" CD we recently got from a friend. "Sleepytime on Sesame Street" was OK, but only because Hoots the Owl plays jazz and blues. I gritted my teeth through Elmo's off-key rendering of "In Your Imagination." Hamlet started to look as zoned-out as I felt through Kermit the Frog's "If I Were"; he perked up during "If Moon Was Cookie," but he may have associated it with Mr. Waits.

We both lost all patience with the next track, however... for slightly different reasons.

I was just plain bored by the time Snuffy sang "The Snufflelullaby." Hamlet, on the other hand, was Upset. "Sad song! Turn it off!" he wailed. So I did. I skipped to the next track, Telly Monster's "Afraid of the Dark."

"No sad songs! Mama, turn it off!" By now he was really starting to cry. Who wants to make her kid cry? I turned the CD off. To make it up to him, I put on Robert Cray. Sad songs are, after all, easier to take when they're bluesy. Hamlet calmed down. So did I.

Nearly a week later, Hamlet tells me, as I put CDs on, "No lullabies. I don't like them."

The interesting thing about this little episode is that it reinforces just how sensitive Hamlet is. I've caught him hiding behind his Dada's chair, crying his little eyes out, when he heard a "sad song." He doesn't like when Sir Topham Hatt chastises the engines. And he yells at us ("Don't say that!") when he thinks our voices sound tense.

When I was a kid, I was often told that I was "hypersensitive." I internalized everything I saw and felt - I still do. A lot of people saw it as a detriment; I needed to toughen up. I never did figure out how, and I'm glad for that, because it might have made the difference in whether I began to write for a living. Watching Hamlet, I wonder what this trait we share will mean for him - along with all the others. He loves to see how things work; will he be an engineer? He loves our attention for his silliness and his songs; will he be a musician? Or will he give into his shyness (as I did) and turn to more solitary artistic pursuits? Or will he retain his interest in construction and simply enjoy the hum of machinery and the beauty of a building he helps put together?

Time and nurturing will tell. Meanwhile, even with a second child on the way, I've been working to maintain a third vow: no minivans. Ever.

The What's On Your Desk? Meme

2006-08-15T15:43:00.000-05:00

I don't do many of these, mainly because 1) I have no time, 2) many of them aren't relevant to my subject matter (and I'm anal about that!) and 3) I'm always a bit leery of posting personal information online under my real name. However, this one will work!

What's on my desk:

Flat panel monitor (Dell). I'm being specific because I love this thing. How did I survive for so long with a CRT?
Speakers.
Headphones. Which I can only use when the husband is around to watch Hamlet, because otherwise I will never hear "That" sound - or silence - that I must check on.
Pencil sharpener. Hamlet likes to sit on my lap and use pencils. He also likes to "try" the pencil sharpener. So I have to keep it within eyeshot and out of his reach.
Keyboard. Normal, not ergonomic.
Two pens - ballpoint and fountain. I'm anal about these too. The ballpoint is for freelance work. The fountain pen is for fiction. Hey, writers are supposed to have quirks, right?
My watch, which I normally don't wear but try to have on hand for those rare times I do need it.
PDA cradle, currently with PDA attached.
Memory stick/keychain/PR thing that one of my source companies sent me. Not as cool as the memory stick/pen they sent me the year before that, but it's memory. And at least I can tell which novel is on which.
Pile of paper scraps with phone numbers and other info that I need to go through.
"Typewriter" paperweight/pad holder. Contains empty scrap paper.
Letter "T" from refrigerator magnet set that lost its magnet.
Answering machine.
DSL modem.
Telephone. (Should be cordless, but isn't.)
Loose paper organizer. Holds letter-sized things, but not those scraps, dang it!
My computer. (On top of this are my pregnancy journal, various CDs, a book, Hamlet's scribbling paper, and a game he was trying to destroy.)

That's my desk - not the file cabinet beside it that I use for a desk extension. I won't get into that.

Aren't you glad you asked, ML?

An egregiously long hiatus

2006-08-02T16:13:00.000-05:00

I just haven't had the time. Once the first-trimester exhaustion became the second-trimester glow (HA), I found myself needing to focus on two things: helping the husband find a new job, and saving money. So the freelance stuff took priority over nearly everything else. After the husband found the new job, and the deadlines were met, the priority became relaxation. We've had hectic summers, and we really wanted to spend this one enjoying ourselves and our boy. Sort of a last hurrah before three become four.

I'm coming out of the hole to offer two links. First, Silandara offers a matter-of-fact approach to nursing in public. If you've seen the flap over the Baby Talk cover, you'll appreciate her no-nonsense approach to her personal experience - which is very similar to mine, and one I hope to repeat once Hamlet's little brother makes his appearance.

The second link is to a guest spot on one of my favorite blogs, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind, by one of my favorite authors, Julia Spencer-Fleming. Besides being a fellow Mainer (heck, she only lives two towns over), she has tackled some deeply emotional issues in her books: what happens when two true loves conflict; when personal convictions collide with religious doctrine; when small-town politics clash with small-town character. I hope this guest spot means she's thinking of starting her own blog, but in the meantime, she has a regular column at Crimespree.

Enjoy. In coming weeks, I hope to get back to blogging... at least until November!

Addendum: I.e., I knew I forgot something

2006-06-04T13:07:00.000-05:00

Of course it was the most salient point of my earlier post. Read that one first. Otherwise I'll just be blathering (worse than usual).

We write in an increasingly competitive fiction market. We need that one thing that will make our prospective agents, editors, and readers sit up and take notice. Many authors think that thing is voice.

While I don't recomment treating these folks like 3-year-olds, the broader lesson I learned at the playground was this: it's not about emotion (i.e. tone), and it's not about standing around explaining yourself. I made Hamlet listen to me solely by letting him know - through my voice alone - that there was a very good reason he needed to listen. Flipping out would have scared him; explaining my vision would have bored him. Either way, his chance of falling off that slide would have been higher. The voice saved us both.

Find the edge. Find the one thing, through word choice and imagination, that tells your reader why s/he should read your work. Time will tell whether this lesson actually worked for me, but at least it gave me a tool to work with.

The edge in your voice

2006-06-04T12:07:00.000-05:00

New writers struggle a lot with the term "voice." What is it, and how do you achieve it in your own writing? Most writers agree it's the hardest thing about the profession to master: the unique mark, like a fingerprint, that makes your writing your own.

Lately my wonderings about voice have tended not toward how to achieve it - I think it's one of those subconscious things you don't have much control over - but whether it's a little like acting. There are actors who, no matter what role they take on, are always Mel Gibson or Samuel L. Jackson. Then there are character actors like Vincent D'Onofrio, who takes on such divinely diverse roles that he doesn't even really qualify as a "Hey! It's That Guy!" So, in writing: which voice matters more? Yours or your characters'?

I think I got at least a glimmer of an answer on the playground the other day.

Hamlet* loves two things about the playground: the slides and the ladders. He loves to climb, and although he had to be coaxed onto the bigger slides (he wanted to, but he was scared), he's learned how to use his feet to brake. He's more sure of himself, more body-confident than he was even six months ago. That's good, because I'm at the point in pregnancy where I'm not as body-confident as I was - at least in my core strength. It's also bad, because the child sometimes thinks he can do more than he actually can.

Like the time he was getting ready to go down the spiral slide. At the last minute, he stood up and leaned over the side so he could get a better glimpse of some vehicle going by. I forget if it was a street sweeper or dump truck or ambulance or motorcycle.

"Hamlet, please sit down," I told him in my firm voice.

He pointed. This brought him further out by an inch or so. "Truck!" he yelled.

"Yes, I see the truck. Sit down and slide." He was too high overhead for me to grab and remove, or to climb up and physically plop him down on his butt.

He grinned at me.

"Hamlet. Sit down NOW."

He sat.

I knew it was the edge in my voice, because I could hear it too. I couldn't pinpoint it as fear or anger, because I couldn't hear those. I try never to lose control in front of him. Besides, I didn't really feel either of those things. Instead, at the moment I spoke to him that third time, I was envisioning the whole thing: the fall, him crashing onto me (my belly?), whether I could even catch him at all, to what extent I'd be hurt. (I was pretty sure I'd get the worse end of the deal. He's almost 3, after all; he bounces.)

And there it was: the lesson in voice. I suddenly saw the combination of my experience coupled with those of my characters to create that uniqueness. Going into a confrontation with an ex-wife, for instance, what's one character seeing in his own mind - the things he can't express because he has neither time nor words to make her see? What are his fears that drive that vision - and what have I seen and felt in life that propel his vision?

I don't think that's the answer, but it brought me a little closer to the root of my trouble with this rewrite. Now to sustain the lesson throughout the rest of the novel. With one eye - and hand - on Hamlet, of course.

*For purposes of the blog, my son will henceforth be called "Hamlet." Not only must I differentiate him from his forthcoming sibling, but the name fits. The tantrums are positively Shakespearean.

It's a Girl! from Andi Buchanan

2006-05-26T07:01:00.000-05:00

When I first received my reviewer copy of It's a Girl, I was apprehensive - as I had been when Andi first mentioned that it would be out for review this spring. I even considered asking her if I could bow out this time. Even after I found out I was pregnant again, when a healthy ultrasound image made the possibility of a daughter much less remote than it was six months ago, I was apprehensive. My relationship with my own mother is not good, and hasn't been for many years. I figured the essays in Andi's new effort might provide some insight into why that was, even if it couldn't help me figure out how to mother a girl.

In reality, the essays did exactly the opposite. While some, like Jessica Berger Gross' "Garden City," struck home as they detailed birth family dysfunction, most were about the kinds of close mother-daughter relationships I've never been sure I could duplicate. Mothers learn to let go of their preconceived notions, to see their daughters as the people they are, not the people the mothers thought they would be. Lone Star Ma said it best: "An overarching theme of this book is that, while raising sons is sometimes experienced as an adventure into the realm of 'Other' for mothers, raising daughters is often about dealing with issues of 'Self.' Some of the the essays explored the ways in which mothers looked forward to sharing with daughters things that they had enjoyed or wished they had been able to enjoy...only to find that their daughters had their own ideas about what was enjoyable and were not, in fact, reflections of their mothers' desires.... Some essays explored the ambivalence, and even dread, that some writers felt at the prospect of raising daughters - having intimate knowledge of what women face in our world and knowing that, in raising a daughter, they would be forced to confront all the things in their lives that they had run away from and stuffed down into the unconscious.

Ultimately, I realized along with Kelly H. Johnson in "Park-Bench Epiphany," "I saw that buried within my desire for a less painful past was the presumption that I would remain exactly the person I am in the present.... My childhood was the way to the here and now, to who I am today." Reading It's a Girl reminded me that raising a girl would turn out to be no different from raising my son: instead of seeing the child as tabula rasa, imprintable with my own expectations and desires, I would have to become the blank slate.

My next ultrasound comes four weeks from now. Although I'll go into the room apprehensive, it won't be a fear of learning the baby's sex. I only hope I'll be given the opportunity to get to know my child, perfectly unique as he - or she - may be.

An interview with Natalie R. Collins

2006-05-13T08:47:00.000-05:00

Many of you who follow my blog recognize Natalie R. Collins' name. She's the author of Wives and Sisters, which has been impressively blurbed by New York Times best-selling authors and is now available in mass market paperback from St. Martin's Press. Her next book, Behind Closed Doors, will be out in January 2007. She also blogs at Trapped by the Mormons.

Many of you also probably know that Natalie is a mom as well as an author. How she balances the two jobs was the focus of the interview she recently gave me:

CMM: How old are your kids now? How old were they when you first started writing? How have you adapted as they’ve grown and their needs have changed?

NRC: My girls are 13 and 11. I've always written, even before they were born, although the whole novel thing started about six to eight years ago, so they were much younger. Right before my youngest was born, I tried to write a children's book. I was NOT good at that. When I first started writing the novels, they tried to be supportive, but children are very narcissistic and it was hard for them to understand me as I was "in the zone" and them wanting food! What nerve.

Also, back then I was writing and hadn't sold anything, so it was hard for my husband to understand why I was writing and not cleaning the house or tending to my family's needs. I'm not sure it's ever easy. I suspect I will be a grandma and still fighting for uninterrupted time to write and fighting off the guilt. While my children have adjusted for the most part, and I can do more REASONING, they still don't understand when I need them not to talk to me and explain every little detail of every little thing they are doing when I am trying to write a book. And it adds to my guilt, because it won't be long before they aren't going to WANT to tell me every single detail. This is a tough time. I think almost tougher than when they were younger. Back then there was nap time and you could always count on a good two hours just to write. And there wasn't the worry when they happily tell me they will stay out of my hair... Just what ARE they up to?

CMM: So far, what has been your greatest challenge as a writing mother? The greatest benefit?

NRC: Great challenge is, without a doubt, time. There simply isn't enough. And my girls are older, so there is dance, and soccer, and competitions, and games, and sleepovers, and constant run, run, run. I have really had to lay down the law when it gets close to deadline and say, "I HAVE to get this book done. Your braces and those expensive shoes you want depend on it." Still, they forget and stand there in front of the fridge, waiting for magic food to appear. It never does.

The greatest benefit has been how proud they are of me. They often tell their friends about my books, and I'm amazed when they will ask me questions about my books, and how I write them, and express interest in the process. "My mom writes books" is the neatest thing they have ever said, and they still say it.

CMM: How do your kids and husband perceive your writing career? Besides getting published, did you have to help them take it seriously, or have they been supportive the whole way?

NRC: Well, back when I was unpublished, it was tough. When you are sending out manuscript after manuscript, and getting all these rejections, and having brief moments of excitement only to get that dashed, it's hard to explain to your family why you are doing this. It's hard to explain it to people who don't write! The "don't give up" attitude that is necessary for success doesn't really go hand in hand with a family. I think my girls were always proud, but there wasn't a lot of perks going hand in hand with proud.

It's also hard to explain away all the time that goes into writing, because it is SO consuming. Without any return, financially, well, you look pretty stupid continuing on with the dream. I know my girls took it seriously, but I don't think my husband really did until I actually sold my book to St. Martin's Press. And also, I think he has really started to accept it and go with the flow, as far as support and realizing that I DO need the time and allowances I ask for, because I am finally earning some money.

CMM: WIVES AND SISTERS has met with much controversy. How did that affect your family, especially your kids? How do you talk to them about it?

NRC: I suppose there were times that they might have worried. Especially when I got a death threat or two, but truthfully, I have downplayed all of that for them. After all, they are kids. And it was never so threatening that I thought they might be in danger. I just have to admit I've always been bothered to think, "Wow, the truth can get you killed." But it can. Luckily, in my case, it's been mostly nasty emails.

My book is real life. It is true, and honest, and in your face, and if people don't like that, oh well. It would be great if we lived in a perfect world but we don't. Kids die and get hurt every day. Women are raped every day. People are murdered every day. Sexual predators show up in droves at Dateline NBC's sexual predator house, and some of them even admit they SAW the shows, and some of them are probably Mormon. None of these horrible acts stop just because you join a particular religion, or make vows in a temple, or wear special underwear, and to tell someone they DO stop is so irresponsible.

Mark Hacking did all of that, all of the good Mormon stuff, and still murdered his wife, Lori. It WILL NOT SAVE YOU if you are already messed up. In fact, it will make you crazier, as is evidenced by Brian David Mitchell who kidnapped Elizabeth Smart. The entire beginnings of the Church have so much wackiness that depraved minds are given a smorgasbord to feed on.

As for my kids, well, they think the controversy is funny. That might sound cold, but it's not. They know where I stand, as far as religion, and they are remarkably level-headed about this stuff. The rest of life, expect histrionics. But for this stuff, they are so cool--except when hormones hit.

CMM: Describe your typical day. How do you balance writing with family needs, especially during deadlines or book promotion?

NRC: Right now I am finishing up at my job so I can write full time. I have been teaching at a private school, but it's so hard to try and teach and also to write and promote and meet my deadlines. I work all day long and then try to write at night and on weekends. I also take days off to write, but I never feel like that is fair to my employer. But in the next two weeks I will be done and then writing full time. But it is never an easy battle. Book promotion is ALWAYS going on. It never stops. You simply cannot downplay this part of being a writer. As for deadlines, well, it's funny. I can tell my children I cannot be bothered--not even ONCE--but that one big emergency or MOST IMPORTANT THING they need to tell me always weighs in. And it gives me guilt that is sometimes extreme. And while their "emergencies" rarely weight in as real emergencies, I know these ages will never come again, and their communication with me is fragile. So, there are days when I feel completely and utterly inadequate. But I always get up and try again the next day, and hope for the best.

CMM: Did family life change much for you after you were published? If so, how? If not, how did you keep it stable?

NRC: Yes, it changed a lot. It forced my family to take me seriously, and yet I discovered in so many ways they will NEVER take me seriously. They have seen me with bad hair, or pulling the mother-lode fish out of the water to discover I caught a large CARP. They have seen me screaming, and crying, and melting down, and they know I am just this human person who is trying to write books. Although, to an extent, they have grown to understand that now this writing, this incessant computer-sitting, actually has a result that is good. They have said they want to read my books (answer: Not yet! Not old enough).

But the demands are still the same. I am still required to be Mom. And mom will always get the scut work. Mom will always clean up the vomit, and wash the dirty underwear, and cry with you when you don't understand how THIS happened. And I wouldn't give it away for the world.

CMM: Any tips for fellow mother-writers?

NRC: Oh, just believe in yourself. Keep writing, and remember, that even when you think you are the worst mom that ever lived, you probably aren't--unless your child has been living in cage all of his/her life. If that's so, you suck. For the rest of us, a lot of moms work. Mom writers work just as hard as the rest of the working moms. Sometimes they see financial results, sometimes they don't, but it all boils down to YOU being a person. YOU still exist. Don't ever forget that. Don't forget that you are real and that you have needs. If you NEED to write, then you must write. You can't be real for your kids if you don't exist anymore. And to exist, you need to maintain your individuality.

"Excuses," indeed

2006-04-29T19:27:00.000-05:00

Joe Konrath recently posted a list of author excuses for why they don't self-promote. Second on the list? "I have a family/kids/a husband/pets/plants that need my attention."

Okay, the husband, pets, and plants really are an excuse. Kids... not so much. Not if you parent little ones, anyway.

Those who read Joe's blog regularly know that his is a rather "my way or the highway" approach, as one of his commenters noted. So, I emailed Joe asking him to clarify for those of us who do have small children. If my novel hypothetically sold this year or next, I asked, would it be fair to expect my children (assuming I have more than one by the time I have to think about promotion) to put up with Mama hitting bookstores, traveling, spending large quantities of time on radio shows, etc.? Or should I wait until they're both school-age, more independent, and better able to understand that Mama leaves sometimes for a few nights, but still loves them very much?

Joe's response? I'm still waiting. I don't know if he even has kids, but I suspect it doesn't matter much if he does; after all, he's got a wife to care for them while he writes and promotes. Same with Stephen King, whose wife, Tabitha, wrote several novels while taking care of their three littles. Granted, she probably doesn't need to wonder where her career would be if she hadn't been a mother; she's married to Stephen King. And if she does wonder? I bet ultimately, she doesn't care. Because she mothered children... while married to Stephen King.

So what about those of us whose spouses hold down the jobs that keep us fed, clothed, and housed while we pursue our dreams, which makes us primarily responsible for our littles along with our novels? There are groups like Momwriters and The Writing Mother, where professional and amateur writers gather to talk about mothering and writing. And there's the blogging community. Some mother-writers are even lucky to find each other in the same geographic locations.

In the meantime, Ann Douglas posted a wonderful double shot about mommy guilt. Ultimately, that's what it comes down to: guilt that we may not be doing enough to promote ourselves and our writing. Guilt that we may not be doing enough to promote our children's emotional health. Guilt that father-readers, to the best of my knowledge, don't feel as acutely as we do. Both choices impact society in one way or another, and the fact is, none of us has any way of knowing how. Sell more books, and you may touch more lives for the better. Spend more time with your child, and it may be your child who touches more lives... or maybe not.

It's a gamble. All of it is a gamble. That's why I don't think it's fair to make mother-writers choose between books and babies. As I told Joe, I want to do everything I can to promote myself and my books, but not at the expense of my children's emotional health. To that end, I would like to think there are some forms of self-promotion (blog book tours, local bookstores/readers club talks) that are more conducive to child-rearing than others (multi-city book tours, conferences). I've met several other struggling mother-writers through blogs and Internet groups; when the time comes, I just bet we'll be able to come up with new and bold ways to promote our books and still be home in time to put our littles to bed.

Mom-writers? Weigh in. Do we have to choose, or can we create options for ourselves? Dad-writers, too. Do you feel guilty about writing or promoting more than you spend time with your kids, or do you feel confident knowing your wives or partners have it all under control?

Copy and paste

2006-04-24T22:37:00.000-05:00

I'm totally cheating. On a writing forum I belong to, I answered a post asking what we all were up to and then realized I could cheat: I could copy and paste, and it would be relevant because I mentioned the boy! Hey, my words, my copyright. So it begins:

My head is spinning at the moment. Besides the bill-paying freelance stuff, I have:

The novel. Always the novel. Always the tweaking even as I send queries and partials. I'm told this is a common affliction among even seasoned novelists.
Short stories that keep politely asking to be written, but like a toddler asking to go outside on a rainy day, must be distracted with video. (Not Thomas the Tank Engine, either. The husband was kind enough to buy the first season of Rescue Me for my birthday - you know, one of "your" presents that he wants and yet is unwilling to wait for - and it's one of those shows that, like The Shield, is great for angst and human complexity and all the stuff I can study while... not... writing.)
The aforementioned novel's sequel.
Personal issues kicking my butt and cutting into my writing time. Also like a toddler, completely unavoidable. In fact, very much like a toddler demanding his favorite food (Goldfish) even though he has been eating it nonstop during every meal for three days straight.
This blog. And yet here I am.
Updating my website, which Sandra was kind enough to redesign. Her design kicks butt. I am hoping to find time soon to show the world how much it kicks butt. (At least I paid you on time, Sandra. Right?)

My thanks for all my readers' continued patience!

2006-04-17T11:22:00.000-05:00

Oy, the length of time it's been since I posted! Just a quick one today, since I'm deep in the throes of deadlines that I'm hoping will end by May 1 and then give me a month to do whatever I want....

Those who work at home with toddlers might benefit from getting an indoor/outdoor play structure like this one. Despite the fact that it looks like a multicolored decon tent, this has so far occupied my son's time to such an extent that I can almost - almost - sit quietly and work for a whole half hour.

It's better than making a "house" out of the couch cushions for him, because those fall over. No matter what permutations he twists this thing into, it's rugged. It doesn't collapse, which means he won't inadvertently suffocate himself. And yet it can fold into a compact, baggable toy.

It's "open" enough for him to think up his own games. His favorite right now is tossing a ball into the hole in the middle and then climbing in after it (not using the tunnel). I am sure it won't be long before he discovers that he can drive his trucks through it, too.

Obviously this is going to have to be a rainy day/heavy work day treat for him, but it might just be the best investment I've ever made. And hey, if I can figure out how to rig a shower inside it? I might indeed be able to use it as a decon tent. Spaghetti, anyone?

Do you have a hobby?

2006-03-22T23:40:00.000-05:00

Bryon posted tonight about the satisfaction he finds working in the theater. That made me realize how important it is for writers, and parents, and especially writer-parents, to have hobbies - the kind that let you realize the fruits of your labor as soon as you complete the task. Working on a novel, as a freelance writer, and as a parent can leave you among the trees, unable to see the larger forest around you: its size, shape, and most importantly its impact on your (and your children's) lives. You get bogged down in details: what kinds of trees, the way they smell, the way the bark feels, the sameness - and how lost you can feel. Did I tie up all the loose ends in this plot? you wonder. Where is my career going? Where exactly is that fine line between picking battles with my child and giving in to his whims?

I garden as a hobby, meaning I don't dork around with pesticides, soils, weed-killers, or other things master gardeners do. I prune, divide, and water when I have to, mulch if I can afford it, and leave the rest to nature. Meantime, I love working with dirt and even the bugs. Gardening is physical. It engages all my senses, forces me to move and to make decisions that have immediate results instead of farther-reaching repercussions. It gives me back the energy I need to face the toddler who wants to Help (or squirt me with the hose) or the short story in search of an ending. And gardening mistakes are almost always fixable. You can move something if you don't like its location, or wait another season for the overpruned shrub to grow back. Novels and kids often don't bounce back as quickly - or at all - from being cut back too far, or allowed to grow wild.

What's your hobby? How do you engage your body and rejuvenate your creativity?

Caught flashing again

2006-03-07T18:30:00.000-05:00

Yup, I have another short story posted at Flashing in the Gutters. Read "Detachment Parenting" here.

I'm hoping this is just the beginning of my fiction career. Time (and the amount of effort I put into it) will tell. In the meantime, I've been trying to figure out what that means for blogging. So far, blogging about how I reconcile parenting and writing has gone pretty well. I've noticed, though, that other crime writers post their observations about that specific industry: books, book reviews, conferences, and so forth. Not much having to do with kids there.

I'm loath to end this blog because I didn't really hit a stride with fiction until after I had my son. Writing and mothering are, for me, inextricably entwined (hence the blog title). Suddenly the world took on a different dimension. Before, I'd lived outside life, not fully participating. Things didn't matter to me as much before his birth. You could say I couldn't quite feel. So, I really like blogging about how the two aspects of my life converge.

I've thought about starting a writing-only blog, but with little time to run this one as it is, I fear I wouldn't be able to devote as much time to it - or say anything particularly original - as others. Group blogging might be fun, although a friend and fellow crime writer I've approached thinks she has nothing to contribute because she is "only" working on her first draft. Well, we'll see about that....

Meantime, I haven't forgotten about my promise to include interviews with other mother-writers. I've been trying to time those with book launches to help fellow authors along, but with an appreciable lack of time to research such matters, I might end up just doing random monthly ones to keep things going. Have to think about that a little more. If you're a mom who writes professionally with kids of any age living at home, drop me a line - I'd love to hear from you! (By "professionally" I mean with an eye toward publication, even if you haven't already been published.)

I'll be thinking meanwhile about the kind of writing talk I can accomplish that relates to parenting. For now, I'm guessing I'll have to forego dialogue talk, considering the boy's speech delay... though there is that post I've been wanting to do about how early intervention speech therapy is piquing his interest in reading, which can only serve to create a new book-lover/buyer....

Nightmares and dreams

2006-03-03T15:48:00.000-05:00

Most people I know talk in terms of "a mother's worst nightmare" being something bad that happens to her child. Kidnapping, rape, murder, and serious illness top the list. There's a fifth fear of mine personally: my son witnessing something bad happening to me.

I suspect many mothers agree, though they don't talk about it quite as publicly - part of the maternal instinct is to want to take pain on themselves if it means their child can avoid it. Still, damage is damage. What would my son do if I fell down the stairs? If I had an aneurysm? If the freakazoid in the parking lot...? Well, you get the idea. How would it affect the boy? What kind of adult would he turn out to be?

Sure, all this sounds morbid. A bit of context: I was the kid whose mother culled all the horror stories from the news each day and used them to infuse paranoia in my little head. As an adult, I'm a lot more paranoid than many parents I know; I once woke my son up from a nap to bring him in the gas station with me for the 30 seconds it took to pay for my gas. (Mom's mantra: You just never know. Thanks, Mom!) Paranoia has a price, though. For me it's an overactive imagination. That's why I write crime fiction: to dissipate some of those demons.

That's where this story came from: the part of my head that thinks all this stuff up, and the part that needs to let it out. I'm extremely proud of the fact that my first short story has been published alongside better-known authors' work, and very grateful to Tribe for giving me that opportunity. Please, read with caution. You may not like what you see, but it had to be written.

In the meantime, I'm off to lock my son in his padded room. ;^)

Good news for those of us who work for a living

2006-02-20T16:39:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Andi for linking to this story: proof that TV doesn't harm kids. This is very comforting considering that on deadline days, the amount of TV my son consumes goes beyond the 2 hours per day the AAP recommends. Not way beyond. But enough that I worried. I love when scientists create more accurate studies where none exist.

Now, if I could only get the child to watch TV on deadline days instead of climbing the furniture, throwing food around, and generally doing whatever he can to wrest my attention from work. Somehow, despite his elephantine memory, he has not caught onto the fact that I find ways and days to make it up to him. Or, maybe the memory is the problem: he thinks every day should involve fun trips and silly games. In which case it's the yet-to-develop logic that's the trouble. The Catholic Church says 7 is the age of reason. I'm in trouble.

Literary Mama delivers an anthology

2006-02-14T16:02:00.000-05:00

While revising the last draft of my novel, I realized how dreadfully parched I was for good reading. I'd missed reading during the years of business-building; reacquainted myself with the household stock while I nursed; then, in the frenzy of deadlines vs. mobile small person, realized the only words I'd get were the ones I was creating. Good writers, however, are good readers, and as soon as I started wondering if my words had already been strung together in similar ways, I realized I really, profoundly missed good reading.

I'm happy to say that Andi Buchanan's two recent contributions to the literary world helped kick-start my return to Readerland. It's a Boy pulled me in sufficiently that when Literary Mama: Reading for the Maternally Inclined arrived in the mail, I attacked it, too. Featuring the best of the e-zine Literary Mama, the anthology, edited by LM editor-in-chief Amy Hudock along with LM managing editor Andi, covers seven major aspects of motherhood: Creative Acts; Mothers Raising Women, Defining Mothering; Mothers Raising Men, Exploring Mothering; Sex, Fertility, and the Body; Mothers, Fathers, Parents; Surviving Illness and Loss; and Healing the Past to Live in the Present.

What I enjoyed most about the anthology was its diversity - not just in terms of subject matter, as with It's a Boy, but also in terms of form. Poetry and short fiction share space with personal essays, and the mix is a real treat. Fiction is my personal love, my choice in self-expression, so I was naturally drawn to those stories - yet they were so profound that it was often difficult to separate fiction from essay. These authors don't shy from difficult subjects; grown children deal with dysfunctional parents, parents with dysfunctional children, and would-be parents with dysfunctional bodies. And yet, each story deals with people trying to create function from dysfunction.

The key to successful writing is to help people understand other people, and the stories and poetry in the Literary Mama anthology do that - no small feat, because all mothers are some of the most critical, judgmental people alive. We raise our eyebrows and sometimes our voices when we see another mother make a decision we would not make, without stopping to remember she is not us, that her circumstances are not ours. Most importantly, we fail to remember that parenting is not finite. Making choices about our children is not the same as making choices about our jobs or our homes or other aspects of our lives; choices where children are concerned have virtually no constraints, and thus can hardly ever be rational.

Literary Mama, then, serves up a good portion of reality garnished with the humility that comes with compassion: in the end, even if you disagree with another mother's choices, at least you can understand how she came to make them.

Read the Literary Mama intro here. (You must have Adobe Acrobat Reader to view.)
Link to Andi's blog, Mother Shock, here. Be sure to read some great Q&As Andi has posted about mothering, writing, and reading.

Time management for writing mothers

2006-02-03T16:37:00.000-05:00

M.J. Rose's latest "Dr. Sue" entry has some great tips on time management. The writer asking the question is a real estate agent, but substitute "mother" for that job title - I suspect many of you will see yourselves. I sure did. Dr. Sue's advice validates the experience I already found for myself; she suggests working as an editor or proofreader during "interruptable" time, saving writing for the times of day least likely to see interruption, and being flexible. Nice to have that validation!

Obviously, however, everyone's experiences are different. What are some more ways you manage your writing-and-childcare time?

Guest blogging today

2006-02-02T12:24:00.000-05:00

Hope Wilbanks was gracious enough to ask me to guest-blog over at Freelance 101. Take a break and check it out!

Blog maintenance

2006-01-24T16:42:00.000-05:00

Please note: I finally got around to updating the list of blogs I read (including resolving two woefully out-of-date links). If you are not on there and would like to be, let me know. If you are on one of the three lists, but in the wrong place, let me know. Thanks!

Faith

2006-01-19T16:50:00.000-05:00

The past few weeks have been an exercise in faith. Only in the last few days did I realize what it all meant, though.

This month's exercise started last fall, when I emailed the editors at the two magazines I worked for to tell them I was interested in working for them again this year (if they would have me back). Not at the previous volume of production, but enough to stay visible. Sure, they both said. Within a few weeks I had assignments. Two due February 1. One due March 1.

I resolved to start working on them that very day, but the Autumn of Surprises was not yet over, and before long the holidays were finished with nary a website culled to start research. I got to work two days before my husband returned to teaching. At that point I was facing two articles due in 30 days, an editing project I had backlogged since August, and my normal volume of PR. Fear kicked in. What if I started missing deadlines again? To what extent would that jeopardize my credibility?

Fear and overwork have paralyzed me in the past, but this time, I was more afraid that I'd be out of a job if I didn't get moving. So I sat the kid on my lap, sharing pens and paper, and jumped feet first into the research. Okay, there were moments of pen-trading. Many, many moments. And other moments of pushing Mommy's arms away from the keyboard because they were taking up valuable scribbling space. But work was accomplished. Although I can't say for sure I won't miss a deadline, I haven't procrastinated either. And it shows enough for me to say I'm in good shape.

I realized recently that the fear was only part of why I got going on these articles. The other part was faith. Obviously, despite my burnout last summer, my editor kept faith in me enough to assign these articles. If she, a mom of five who has done the freelance mother dance, had faith in me, why shouldn't I?

This was put in greater relief a few days ago, when Joe Konrath blogged about acting professional and "knowing," not just hoping, that you'd one day be published. At first the comment struck me as arrogant. How can you know something like that, especially in an industry where the odds are stacked against you? The truth is, it's not about "knowing" - it's about believing. Having faith. Most of all, getting past the old ways of thinking that kept you working inefficiently - or not working at all.

I believed I could successfully juggle all those projects and my toddler this month, and so far, I've done it. The boy hasn't been any clingier or more demanding than usual, which tells me I'm doing right by him; the work is progressing. I can't really ask for any more than that.

There's a broader lesson here, too: faith isn't just about the day-to-day stuff or the month-to-month stuff, it's also about the long-term picture. In recent months I've come close to quitting, or at least cutting back, for one reason or another: cash shortages, confidence crises. Those things worked themselves out, though, which gives me faith that I am on the right career path - even if its dual nature conflicts. I think that most of all gives me faith to keep going from day to day.

The non-resolution entry

2006-01-06T15:48:00.000-05:00

Is it a resolution never to make any more resolutions - at least of the New Year's variety? Oh, crap.

Seriously. I think part of it has to do with having declared 2005 "my" year (I think this had to do mostly with turning 30) and then having a burnout and a miscarriage and a bunch of other things go wrong. Otherwise, I can't think of a single thing I can resolve that I wasn't already planning to do: get back in shape/down to my ideal weight (or, if I can manage a successful pregnancy, not gain 60lbs. again). Market my novel no matter how much blood is shed. (Mine, I mean. I think.) And quit beating myself up for not getting my dual job right, and just do it.

The last one is probably the most important, but I didn't realize its importance until a few days before the new year (so it's not really a resolution. Ha!) as the husband and I talked childcare. I forget how it came up, or what else we discussed. The only thing that sticks out at me was the realization that it is perfectly OK not to be adept at toddler floor-play. I think it was a confluence of recent revelations that led to this:

Another mother who told me she much prefers working with toddlers and preschoolers. No particular reason; she just "fits" best with them. She has a son who's 8, and she cares for him and sometimes his friends, but she wouldn't want to be a third-grade teacher (for instance).
Realizing that my son and I are in a groove. He expects me to be on the computer for at least part of the day. Even if he tries frequently to drag me away from it, it's OK with him that I work - as long as I'm there for him whenever he needs me: to show interest in his activities, to comfort him when he falls, to fix his toys when they break.
Thinking about the things I do enjoy very much with him? sitting in a coffee shop sharing a cookie, talking about the things we see in the supermarket or outdoors, reading books together. So we don't bond on the floor. In fact, I think, it's the only place we part ways. And that's good for both of us.

All this time, I'd been beating myself up thinking of course I should be good at this - I'm a mother now; doesn't that make you automatically adaptable to every stage of your child's life? No. Just more patient, more willing to stretch your own limits - but not something you aren't. So I'm not interested in playing on the floor. I'm not interested in writing poetry or articles for audiences outside of public safety, either.

What do you beat yourself up about? Think about that thing. What are your expectations? What's your reality? Does it turn out that you're better at it than you thought? If not, do you think by focusing on reality instead of expectations, that you really can improve?

Negativity, depressivity, and creativity

2005-12-22T22:23:00.000-05:00

I've had this post percolating in my brain for weeks - really, since a little bit before Thanksgiving - but lost a week due to illness and have been playing catchup ever since. I'm counting my blessings that I got to write this before Christmas!

This time of year is not a happy one for many people. Many family members stress each other out, yet are expected to be together at least one day out of the season. Other people feel stress over the pressure to give the perfect gift - whether or not they're inclined to find it. And the holidays can be downright miserable to those who are celebrating the first Christmas without a loved one.

For the last couple of years, I was one of those who felt more stress than joy about Christmas. Money was tight; family issues were a problem; the world seemed too negative. I was a lot like Charlie Brown trying to find the meaning of Christmas, but even reading the Gospel of Christ's birth failed to move me. I just could not figure out what I was doing wrong.

This year I know my problem was that I was taking too much for granted. This year, and during the last few months especially, I've come face to face with what, exactly, life has to offer - for better or worse. I regained perspective, made peace for myself.

Still, I found myself not relishing spending the holidays with family members who have not had perspective for a very long time. I resented the idea of being thrown into social situations with people who feel no peace; in fact, I started feeling dragged down once more, and that scared me. Depression started to creep back into my outlook the way it hadn't done for many years.

Although I was pretty sure it was situational, not biochemical, I had to consider how to overcome it. I thought about medication, even though I'd never needed it in the past. And I thought about how I'd overcome depression in the past: writing. Early on I wrote stories to stave off loneliness. In my first year of college, when the anonymity of being just another student got to be too much, I kept a journal of the little daily things that made me happy. Over time it became a habit, though I had to admit I hadn't found much to be happy about recently.

I thought at least part of my problem was that I hadn't been able to work much on my novel, and the extent to which I bring my personal life into my fiction. None of it is directly autobiographical, but I write about the things that affect me most. Especially since having my son, I've felt things much more acutely. In a lot of ways my son taught me how to feel instead of how to analyze feelings; I learned profound visceral reactions. I found my characters achieved a depth of emotion they hadn't had before. And now I wondered whether medication might lift my mood to the extent I would lose touch with those emotions.

That question is probably not unlike the one other depressed, bipolar, and even schizophrenic creative people have asked themselves - and answered by going off their meds. Enough of us have become alcoholics or committed suicide that I knew I'd have to consult my doctor if writing and journaling didn't work, but I at least wanted to try it my way first.

Happily, it's been working. I started with faith as a cornerstone - meditating on that Gospel instead of just reading it - and working outward from there. What else makes me happy? The family members, my son most of all, who do not take life for granted. The perspective their joy gives me. Reaching out to friends, which has always been difficult for me, but has resulted in deeper friendships than I ever could have wished for. More material accomplishments: finishing my novel, earning more money than I ever have in my years of self-employment.

Sure I'll have moments, even days, that will be ordeals more than memories to treasure - but having at last found peace, I can get to work on helping those I care about find it as well.

I hope to blog again before the new year, but in case I don't get to it: I wish you all a blessed, joyous, and peaceful holiday, in whatever form you choose to find it.

Tag! I'm it!

2005-12-03T17:46:00.000-05:00

Mary Louisa tagged me for the first meme I will ever have completed. (By which I mean, Ronn tagged me in early October, the Time of Upheaval that meant I never did get around to it. Is there a time limit on these things?) Anyway, this particular meme means I must list 15 facts about my reading preferences and then tag 3 more people. If I can find three people who read me and haven't already been tagged.

My father taught me to read using J.R.R. Tolkein's The Hobbit.
I soon turned to mysteries: Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden, Agatha Christie, and P.D. James. In that order.
Madeleine L'Engle is my favorite author of all time. Her books influenced so many of my core beliefs about God, science, and people in general.
I have torn through my husband's entire collection and now thirst for more.
During my son's first few months of life, I rediscovered many of the books in our home collection and read them like a madwoman as I nursed.
I loved libraries as a kid, but I fear my son is more interested in the construction thereof than in being inside them.
Stealing from ML: my son has hundreds of books. I have not counted them, however.
I am very picky about children's literature and tend to steer clear of books I feel are boring or stupid.
As a corollary, I critique children's books while I am reading them to my son. I cannot turn off my internal editor.
Stealing from Nancy Martin: "I have not read Harry Potter. For no other reason than it just doesn’t appeal to me. Let the flame war begin."
I've become bored with our current collection, and intend to ask mostly for books for Christmas.
The last nonfiction book I read was God's Politics by Jim Wallis. (Thanks again, Meagan!) The last fiction book I read was The World According to Garp by John Irving.
My mother forbade me from reading anything by Stephen King while I was growing up, so naturally it was the first aspect of my husband's collection that I jumped into.
The two books that have the most influence on my fiction are House of Sand and Fog (Andre Dubus III) and The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold).
I think it's about time Sebastian Junger released a new book.

So there they are. I tag Ronn, Silandara, and Hope. Happy fact-finding!

It's a Boy: The virtual book tour continues

2005-11-12T19:56:00.000-05:00

As soon as Andi Buchanan posted on her blog that she was looking for bloggers to host her upcoming virtual book tour, I knew I wanted to participate. It wasn't just the excitement at the chance to attract more readers; nor was it the desire to make connections with more professional mother-writers. What I wanted most of all was to get inside the heads of other mothers who had sons.

I love having a son. I always was a tomboy; quite frequently, my brain seems to work more like a boy's than a girl's, with the consequence that most of my best friends have been men, and I've never really "gotten" the female-friend dynamic - except, of course, with other women whose brains are wired like mine. That's why I was surprised and elated to find out, at 20 weeks, that I was having a son. It wasn't that I'd thought he was a girl from the beginning, but that I'd been so sure all my life that I would have a daughter first. Like my mother, I was a firstborn girl. I think it was because my relationship with her, and her relationship with her mother, were not the best, that I felt so apprehensive about having a firstborn daughter.

I found it interesting, then, that the mothers who wrote for IT'S A BOY had the opposite conundrum: some wanted girls, and ended up with boys. Even more interesting, however, was finding out that I had more in common with them beyond that point.

Andi herself, in "It's a Boy!" wondered if her relationship with her son could possibly be that much different from that with her daughter. Loving boys, she considers, might be considered easier because we keep no secrets from them about what their lives will be like; women's lives, at least in our generation, are more divided, our choices more likely to lead to either... or than both... and.

Marrit Ingman and Kate Staples both write about finding a common ground between their sons' interests and their own. "A passing glance at a neighbor's lawnmower," writes Ingman in "Exile in Boyville," "would send [her son] into car seat paroxysms," while Staples' son, in "Reading to My Son," traded his interest in more "classic" infant literature for a passionate love affair with truck books. Ingman soon realized that the parent-child dynamic is as much about personality as any other relationship; she calls it "the dance of separation, the give-and-take of two loving people struggling to stand beside one another come what may." Staples gladly accepted that it was the book, not the subject matter, transporting her son into other worlds not unlike the ones she had inhabited as a reading child.

Jennifer Lauck and Karen E. Bender write about potential futures I worry about nearly every day. Lauck's "It Takes a Village" explores a frightening incident with her son, two older neighborhood boys, a knife, and the shifting boundary between what a parent can control and what she can trust others to take care of. Bender's "The Bully's Mother" describes teaching her son to use his words instead of his body to express his feelings - a particularly profound story for me, a mother whose son is not yet talking.

I am grateful that Andi chose to include stories of loss in this book. Jennifer Margulis and Susan Ito both write eloquently and poignantly about their very different losses; Jodi Picoult writes of her post-9/11 loss of ability to provide a certain innocence to her child. Picoult's essay "Scaredy-Cat," in fact, reminded me of an email exchange I had following my miscarriage. I had asked a friend how I could best comfort my son, who sensed something was very wrong. She responded: "His worst fear is that you will go away and not come back. You need to play games like hide-and-seek with him... reinforce that he and Mommy will always find each other." I told her I would hate to make a promise like that and then have it not come true. She didn't respond. Picoult did, though, with an uncomfortable truth about mothering: sometimes a lie is necessary for reassurance.

Andi Buchanan has edited a collection of essays that will resonate with mothers of boys. Many of us have asked ourselves the gender questions - Are girls "better" than boys to parent? Are boys "better" than girls? These essays go there, and further, because they explore mothers' deepest desires, fears, and joys in parenting.

Contributors: Stephany Aulenback, Karen Bender, Kathryn Black, Robin Bradford, Gayle Brandeis, Faulkner Fox, Katie Allison Granju, Ona Gritz, Gwendolen Gross, Melanie Lynn Hauser, Marrit Ingman, Susan Ito, Suzanne Kamata, Katie Kaput, Jennifer Lauck, Caroline Leavitt, Jody Mace, Jennifer Margulis, Jacquelyn Mitchard, Catherine Newman, Sue O'Doherty, Marjorie Osterhout, Jamie Pearson, Lisa Peet, Jodi Picoult, Maura Rhodes, Rochelle Shapiro, Kate Staples, and Marion Winik.

Links:

Read IT'S A BOY's introduction.
Read a Q&A about the book.
Read Andi's blog - and link to all the other bloggers who have helped her tour, including some of the contributing authors!

Confessions of Super Mom: An interview with Melanie Lynne Hauser

2005-11-07T07:10:00.000-05:00

I’m very pleased to present my first author interview! Meet Melanie Lynne Hauser, author of the recently released CONFESSIONS OF SUPER MOM (what, you thought I made that title up?). Melanie was gracious enough to answer my questions about her experience starting a writing career in the midst of her mothering career:

Q: How old were your sons when you first started writing? If you had it to do over again, do you think you would've started your career when they were younger?

A: My boys were about 8 & 10, I think. Once they were in school full time - I was fortunate enough to be a SAHM [stay-at-home mom] - I was a crazy volunteer parent, for a couple of years. I'd jumped into the PTA thing feet first, becoming PTA President only my 2nd year of involvement. And that was quite enough! It was insane, really - honest to goodness, the end of my year as president I was hospitalized, suffering a severe allergic reaction to something; we never figured out what it was. And it's never happened again! I can only blame it on the stress of that horrible year. So then I had a lot of time on my hands! Writing had always been in the back of my mind - a lot of ideas had, actually - but I confess. I was a total chicken. I NEVER had the courage to try anything as self-involving, requiring so much discipline as writing while my children were underfoot. Maybe I'm less disciplined than others; maybe I can't multi-task as well.

But I don't regret it. Now that my book is published, our lives have changed so much. I'm home far less than I used to be, and when I am home, I have real deadlines now, not just self-imposed ones. And I'm not sure we could have handled this - my husband travels a lot for work - if my children weren't old enough to pretty much take care of themselves, at least for short amounts of time. For example, I was just away from home for 11 days. That was hard! But it would have been unthinkable had it happened even two years ago.

Q: Initially, what were your sons' reactions? Your husband's?

A: Well, here's a story. Once, in the midst of my years of rejection - which were fewer than a lot of writers', although it didn't seem so at the time! - I went to my younger son's school open house. And I discovered a poem he had written:

MY MOM'S NAME IS MELANIE.
SHE WRITES LOTS OF BOOKS BUT SHE CAN'T SELL ANY.

Ouch - that stung! So for a while, my sons - and my husband - were mainly my support group. My younger son even gave me his lucky rabbit's foot (which he took back immediately upon CONFESSIONS OF SUPER MOM selling). But now they're proud. In a quiet boys' way. But they tell their friends, their teachers, that their mom's a published novelist. And I'm happy that they see me in this other role - someone other than the mom who cooks and cleans and keeps the family running smoothly. I never wanted them to think that's the only role women have, even if it was the one I initially chose.

I also want them to know, as they're growing into young men, that life offers many opportunities. What you choose to be when your twenty isn't necessarily what you'll end up being when you're forty. You have options, and you're never too old to change your mind and test your wings.

Q: You were, as you say on your website, in training to become Super Mom. How did you make time for writing, much less all the research that went with it?

A: I told myself early on that if I didn't take my writing seriously, how could I expect anyone else to? So I definitely dropped out of a lot of things I had been involved with - mostly school activities. Writing is an isolated activity, and for me I do have to really have my head involved with whatever story I'm working on, 24/7, which means I'm not a very social creature when I'm in the throes of a novel. Sometimes I regret this - I definitely have missed some opportunities for closer friendships. But that's just the way this life is, or at least, it's the way my life is. And as far as research - well, I'm a firm believer in not letting the truth get in the way of a good story. The beauty of fiction is you get to make everything up. So I do very little research.

Q: Many women are content being (or trying to be!) Super Mom. Why did you decide to find a career now rather than wait until your children left home?

A: I knew that whenever I started writing, I would have a lot of years before I actually had a "career." If I were ever so lucky to get to that point! And I'm not there yet - maybe I'll feel that I do have a career once I have several published books under my belt. But until then, I feel that it could all end in a heartbeat. Anyway, I knew I wouldn't open up a Word Document on my computer one day, and the next discover myself on the brink of publishing success. That's why I started when I did - knowing that it would take years to get to the point where I am, even - let alone more successful. And that's exactly what happened.

Q: What was your biggest challenge in embarking on a writing career? What were your husband's and kids' biggest challenges in same?

A: The biggest challenge for me, and also my family, was perservering in the face of rejection. It's a fact of publishing. You WILL be rejected. Many times. Even after you reach certain milestones that you think, initially, mean you've arrived - getting an agent, selling a book. There are so many opportunities to curl up in a fetal position, battered by all the vagaries that determine just about everything concerning publication. Finding a way to keep going - keep writing that next book, no matter what's happening to the book you've just finished - is the biggest challenge. I honestly can say that I don't think I would be where I am without the unflailing support and enthusiasm of my husband - and my agent, too.

Q: Now that you are successfully published, how has family life changed for you?

A: The house is far less organized than it used to be! And I've learned to let go of some of the little things that I used to obsess about. The boys are old enough to get their homework done without me nagging them all the time, and if they don't, they're old enough to accept the consequences. (Not that that has happened; they're very responsible!) But the house is less "mine," and more everyone's, and I think that's probably a healthier thing, in the long run.

Q: Any tips you'd like to share with those of us who mother and write with equal zeal?

A: Well, learn to let go of some things. Whether it's volunteering, or clean toilets, or starched shirts. You can't do it all. And make sure you involve your family, and by that I mean - take your work seriously. Expect THEM to take it seriously. Set limits - learn to say no. That last is actually the most important - learning to say no, whether it's to the neighbor who wants you to watch her kid at the last minute, or the PTA room mother who needs one more volunteer for the holiday party, or to your son who insists no one in the world can launder his sheets as well as you!

Again - if you don't take your writing seriously, how can you expect anyone else to?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Former member of the PTA, Melanie Lynne Hauser is a prototypical uper Mom. CONFESSIONS OF SUPER MOM is her first novel, and she is a contributor, along ith Jodi Picoult, Jacqueline Mitchard, Jennifer Lauck and Marion Winik, to the anthology It’s a Boy (November 2005, Seal Press). She lives in the Chicago area with her husband and two teenage sons. Visit her website at http://www.melanielynnehauser.com/

ABOUT THE BOOK: For every harried mother who dreams of cleaning with the power of 10,000 Swiffers, putting her children into Super Time Outs with just a flick of her Merciless Gaze, and employing a little Super Eavesdropping when the occasion warrants, CONFESSIONS OF SUPER MOM is a must-read. Filled with romance, intrigue, humor and a colorful cast of characters, this delightful new novel introduces a superhero for the Swiffer generation.

Birdie Lee is an average hard-working single mother of two teenagers, PTA lackey, and mild- mannered grocery clerk at the local Marvel Fine Foods and Beverages. One morning, while getting ready for work, Birdie is sidetracked by a stubborn Stain of Unusual Origin on her bathroom floor. Unable to let the stain get the best of her, she tries to annihilate it with every household product she can find – to no avail. Angry, hot, light-headed (and forgetting to turn on the exhaust fan), she makes one final desperate attempt to eradicate this vile, dastardly stain: she loads her Swiffer Wet Jet with every household cleanser she owns, aims, and fires….

And passes out, overcome by the fumes. After regaining consciousness (and reminding herself to scrub the bottom of the toilet since from her perspective — flat on her back — it was looking a little dingy), Birdie realizes something’s amiss. Her ears begin to buzz and her senses are aquiver. Eventually, aided by Martin, her geeky thirteen-year-old son and trusty sidekick, Birdie understands that she now possesses extraordinary powers — superpowers, to be exact. Birdie soon learns, however, that, to quote Spiderman, with great power comes great responsibility, and she finds herself struggling to balance a new onslaught of challenges, both at home and in her community. While trying to keep her distant 15-year-old daughter’s heart from being broken (something not even a superhero can do), and dealing with her smug ex-husband and his over-achieving new wife, she must manage her job, PTA responsibilities and a budding romance– all the while trying to rescue her beloved town of Astro Park from an evil force that threatens its children.

So forget those chores— pick up CONFESSIONS OF SUPER MOM and relish in a much-deserved escape. This charming novel will keep readers glued to the page as they cheer for Super Mom to root out injustice and surrender herself to love. Readers everywhere will find themselves in its pages and rejoice in finding a book that celebrates their overlooked everyday acts of heroism.

PRAISE FOR CONFESSIONS OF SUPER MOM:

"Like its title character, this debut novel has a secret identity...it's unexpectedly poignant and packs an emotional punch despite the cheery veneer... at the heart of this story is a narrative about a lonely, wronged woman who just wants to do right by her children and stand up to an uncontrollable world. Hauser slips in soliloquies on motherhood and womanhood that, though brief, are moving, showing us Birdie Lee's heart and in that, the wishes and dreams of super moms everywhere. "- Publishers Weekly

“This silly but fun twist on the superhero tale comes packaged with a socially responsible message about consumerism, but it doesn’t get in the way of the high jinks.” - Booklist

"Looking for something TOTALLY different than all the restof the books on the shelves? This is the perfect escape using romance, laugh out loud moments, and super powers that every woman would secretly admit to wanting!" - Madison McGraw, ChicksDigBooks.com

Who needs the speeding bullets, locomotives, and tall buildings - with wit, humor and some sage motherly advice, Melanie Lynne Hauser finally gives readers a true hero for our time - Super Mom." - Jennifer O'Connell, author of Dress Rehearsal and Bachelorette #1

"Confessions of Super Mom is a delightful read. Smart, zany, and touching, it is the perfect remedy for overwhelmed mothers everywhere." - Karen Quinn, Author of The Ivy Chronicles

"Forget the laundry, forget the dishes. Escape into the world of Super Mom for a few hours...you'll be glad you did. Melanie Lynne Hauser's quirky characters sparkle brightly as a newly Swiffered floor, and her writing shines like freshly polished glass." - Meg Cabot, author of The Princess Diaries and Every Boy's Got One

“Never has there been a more appealingly down-to-earth heroine or a superhero with more enviable powers. Moms everywhere will wish they could be like the Super Mom of Melanie Lynne Hauser’s charming, funny, and heartfelt novel. . . .and will ultimately realize they already are.” - Pamela Redmond Satran, author of Babes in Captivity

CHOSEN AS A LITERARY GUILD NOVEMBER SELECTION

Getting back to normal

2005-11-02T15:53:00.000-05:00

My deepest gratitude goes to all who responded in the last few weeks, both via private email and comments. It was so helpful to know your thoughts and prayers and empathy were with me.

I've spent the last few weeks readjusting my beliefs and expectations. I took a lot for granted, and also found opportunities to fill in some missing spots in my life: a craving for good friends, a wish that I was better at son-bonding. Somehow, the work-life balance has become easier since I miscarried. I'm not yet sure why.

I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I'm not very good at grieving. I've found over the years that I have to move forward, put losses into the context of my life instead of dwelling on them and on myself. I've spent these last few weeks doing just that: taking on more work, doing more with my son, and, in a signal that I am indeed returning to "normal," worrying about all the things I haven't been able to get to. Updating this blog, for one thing (that includes the promised author interviews), my website, and various other business-related issues. Not to mention the housework.

More coming soon (I hope). I just wanted to update. Many more thanks to you all!

In memoriam, Part II

2005-10-14T16:57:00.000-05:00

I miscarried this past week.

I had debated posting news of my pregnancy here, not only because of what "could" happen, but also because I never really had a good feeling about it. Not like with my son, even during the two weeks I waited to find out whether he was "viable" after failing to hear his heartbeat using a Doppler device. (It turned out he was four weeks younger than we thought.)

Ultimately I posted because I figured if something did go wrong, I could still write something about it and hope it reached someone else in pain. Miscarriage is one of those events no one likes to talk about, even as common as it is. Many women feel it's too private to go into with strangers. Others refrain from talking about for fear of offending people. I think it's too common not to talk about.

And yet, I find myself unable to write out my deepest thoughts and fears and anger: my grief. Because I know people who know me, but don't know miscarriage, are reading this blog. And I hate, hate, sharing parts of myself with people who don't understand. I didn't even like talking pregnancy with women who had never been pregnant. To write something out and thus make someone believe they can understand my pain - or worse, someone else's close to them - would be the grossest insult to me and to anyone else who has ever miscarried and then had to deal with secondary pain from insensitive people. I know, the purpose of writing is to share one's perspective on the human condition with strangers. But y'know what? That's for my fiction.

So, I miscarried. I said it, and publicly, that's all I'll say about it. But I welcome anyone else who's grieving to get in touch. You can respond through comments, or email me through my website. For the rest of you, I encourage you to spend time - real time, not just a spare thought - appreciating what you have. I sure have.

Still more changes

2005-10-10T07:50:00.000-05:00

I know I've been silent for the last couple of weeks, but it hasn't been for lack of subject matter. Instead, I've once again found my business in flux: I found out I'm expecting another baby in early June.

I've been thinking a lot about work and pregnancy with my son, wondering if it will be similar this time around or not. Most significantly, then, I had no brain to speak of. I was forgetting how to spell and how to read. It was a terrible state of affairs for a writer, and it didn't help that one of my editors told me she'd written the best story of her life in her second trimester. (It did help that her boss, also pregnant at the time, had the same problem I did.)

This time around - although it's still early - the main symptom appears to be "energy swings." These are sort of like mood swings, except they involve not emotions, but cycles of extreme fatigue swinging to extreme frenzy. During the former I'm napping before dinner. During the latter I'm up till 1 a.m. and only go to bed because I force myself. This state of affairs isn't so bad for the creative spark. It probably all evens out in the end.

In the meantime, I'm hoping to continue posting at least once a week, even though I asked for more work. In fact, I need to think up questions for the first of my cyber book tour moms (sorry it's taking so long, Melanie!). One line of questioning, however, is certain: How do you write successfully with two in the house?!

Livening up the blog

2005-09-27T18:00:00.000-05:00

Even though it's only been a little over a week, I feel like I haven't been blogging as much as I "should." Part of it is trying to keep the boy busy. Another part is feeling as if I have nothing new, and therefore interesting, to contribute. There's only so much you can take about trying to work around a busy (and sleepless) toddler, right?

So, I'm going to try to shake things up a bit. Along with continuing to blog on my own life, I'll be soliciting interviews with writing parents both published and not, and with children anywhere between ages 0-18, about how they keep the fire stoked. So far, I have interviews scheduled with Melanie Lynne Hauser and Andi Buchanan. Both are on virtual book tours: Melanie for her debut release, Confessions of a Super Mom, and Andi for her upcoming anthology, It's a Boy (to which Melanie contributed, incidentally). Their blogs are also well worth checking out.

Suggestions and references are welcome! Comments are open to both Blogger and non-Blogger members.

Should writers use TV for their toddlers?

2005-09-18T12:47:00.000-05:00

It seems to me that one of the biggest questions on most work-at-home moms' minds is 1) whether to let our children watch TV. And 2) if yes, how much to let them watch. I think these questions are even more profound to those of us who write for a living. After all, if your child is watching TV, he's not reading. Are we risking our own livelihoods here?

When I was pregnant, I was firmly resolved that my son would watch no more than one hour of educational TV per day, that I would watch with him, and that I would much rather let him see me read than watch. That more or less worked out for his first year. I did watch TV sometimes when nursing, but we don't get cable, and the only things available were children's programming (why subject yourself when you don't yet have to?), talk shows, and soap operas. Quickly finding that melodrama and molasses-slow story arcs were bad for writing, I did let him see me reading while I nursed him. Sometimes even writing, when my right hand was free.

These days, though, he's a lot more active than he was then. I've found myself turning to TV as a way to get a break, if not to get some work done. Watching with him? Rarely. I worry that part of the problem is my lack of ability to figure out fun activities from day to day, as well as the sheer amount of energy he has (the kid will not sit still unless it's in front of the TV, or being read to - but the point is for me to get a break, too).

Is it bad? I can't tell. He can sit still for 3-5 stories per night, which often include two readings of The Polar Express, so I can't see that the attention span is suffering. We stick to educational programming and Disney cartoons (Bambi is the current favorite; we fast-forward past the scary parts). No anime and nothing we personally can't stand (includes Lazytown, Boohbah, Teletubbies, and Barney). Only for 2-3 hours per day, alternated with some kind of physical activity. 2-3 hours is the amount of time he used to nap. So although I feel marginally guilty about not being a more entertaining mother, I can't help relishing the work time.

That's why I'm trying not to think about the long term. The fact is, he sees both of us reading, writing, and watching TV; I think it's as important for him to see me working as it is for me to play with and read to him. Later on will come school and extracurricular activities and friends, all with their own issues. What we as parents need to remember is that science and statistics can't possibly account for all the variables in a child's life; "studies show" is about averages, not individuals.

No, TV shouldn't be a crutch or an excuse for us play-impaired parents not to try to entertain our kids. But it can be a valuable tool. Our job is to give it the right balance - just like we do with every other tool in our lives. It's as much about instilling good habits in ourselves as it is about instilling them in our kids.

Found it

2005-09-12T07:31:00.000-05:00

The late nights are working well. I have to do a little better at fighting the TV demon, but I finished a scene last night and am looking forward to completing the chapter over the next day or two. At this rate, I might be able to stay on top of my goal of finishing the novel this year. Maybe even this fall.

Next challenge: balance novel with paying work. Because, you see, the boy has decided he no longer needs an afternoon nap. Not counting late nights I'm down to what? two hours a day work time?

And we say we want another child...