She interrupts me. I interrupt her. Elle A. Muse is unfortunately not amused…
I’m having computer issues (no wonder my muse is in hiding!), so if I disappear for a few days, that’s why. I’m also updating the blog sometime between now and Monday, so if you visit and it looks like someone tore through the place with a roto-rooter, that’s why.
Cross your fingers that my updates don’t destroy the layout.
I am so tired of rain, I can’t tell you. It rained most of May. It’s been raining for most of what amounts to June so far. Sometimes it feels like someone is standing in my driveway with nothing better to do than chuck huge buckets of dirty water on my house. Now, June is often rainy in my neck of the continent, but this is getting ridiculous. Usually, when June is rainy, we’ve had a pleasant spring. Especially our Mays, which can be gorgeous (but not this year). However, this year I feel like we’ve missed out on spring entirely. When the rain stops and I turn off the furnace, within a day I need the air conditioner, because the weather hops from cold, cold rain to hot, hot sun overnight. Then back again.
I have weeds in the concrete that need spraying. I have to blow/sweep the driveway. Neither of these tasks can be accomplished in the rain. And, gee, wouldn’t it be nice to take the writing outside once in a while?
How’s the weather in your part of the world? As out of whack as mine? If you’re a writer, does the weather affect your progress? Would you rather edit when it’s cloudy out, write new pages when it’s sunny? Or does it not matter? My creativity is tied to the weather to a point. The weather isn’t an excuse not to write (or try to write, as the case might be). But I admit my muse would rather play (as in work) when the sky is blue. It can be colder than a witch’s you-know-what, I love those blue skies!
It’s gearing up to be another Motherhood Madness week. Youngest Son has his high school graduation ceremony and all-night dry grad this Friday. My Liege and I are on the entertainment committee and will be at the dry grad for part of, if not all, the night. Imagine, getting to graduate on Friday the 13th. I love Friday the 13th. However, there’s also exams upon exams this week and the next for Y.S., plus “back-up” university registration on Thursday. Eldest Son is between summer jobs and his laptop hard disk just died. What fun. Next week is his university registration.
As a result of all the family stuff landing on my plate, yesterday was pretty much wiped for writing, although I did edit several chapters and, while spacing out during my bi-monthly massage therapy appointment, I brainstormed several approaches to what I believe is the last scene I need to write totally fresh before I get to revise a big ol’ whack of NaNoWriMo-drafted scenes. Yes! I’m a little worried that the NaNo scenes won’t quite mesh with the scenes I’ve been writing these last few weeks, but I know Elle Muse has my best interests at heart, and she’ll come through for me, won’t you, baby? Elle? Elle??? Elle!!!
I think she’s taking a nap. Time to go kick her in the butt.
Anyone else have news or writing progress/lack of progress to share?
I recently finished Isabel Sharpe’s WOMEN ON THE EDGE OF A NERVOUS BREAKTHROUGH. Thanks to my pal Jamie Sobrato for talking up Isabel’s first women’s fiction release on her blog last year, because I loved this book (yes, I’m ashamed to admit it can take me a year or longer to buy and read a book that’s on my Must Buy list). WOMEN ON THE EDGE OF A NERVOUS BREAKTHROUGH is like a slice of Desperate Housewives on paper. Hmm, I guess that sounds wonderful if, like me, you love Desperate Housewives. If you don’t dig the ladies of Wisteria Lane, try WOMEN, anyway. After all, I’m recommending it. What more do you need?
Because I bought this book based on Jamie’s recommendation and because I’m familiar 
with Isabel’s category romance career, I bought it during an Amazon binge without reading the back cover copy. From the cover, I assumed it was a murder mystery, but it isn’t. As I read, I realized the cover reflects more of a “Mother’s Little Helper” vibe, which suits the story to a tee. Plus, well, I don’t want to give away the plot, but the red carpet on the cover is symbolic.
Back cover copy:
Welcome to Kettle, Wisconsin, a town where everyone knows nothing bad ever happens.
Enter Lorelei Taylor—notorious, glamorous, and hot off a not-guilty murder verdict that stunned the nation. To the women of Kettle, bad things seem suddenly inevitable . . .
Sarah Gilchrist—A perfect house and garden can’t quite make up for a marriage that’s a wreck. Sarah is determined to rise above her opinion of Kettle’s dreadful newcomer and give her a perfect welcome. But in the face of Lorelei’s outrageous provocations, Sarah’s control starts to unravel.
Erin Hall—What her husband does to her behind closed doors stays hidden. But Lorelei’s acquittal gives Erin hope for the first time. Convinced Lorelei did kill her abusive lover . . . and got away with it, Erin thinks she may have some power after all.
Lorelei Taylor—In Lorelei’s eyes, peaceful, heavenly Kettle could not look any more like hell. She vows to shake up the town—smug, priggish Sarah; mousy, downtrodden Erin; and while she’s at it, her widowed neighbor, Mike. Except the harder she shakes, the more the shake-up is happening to her.
Sometimes the only thing women on the edge need . . . is a push.
We won’t get into who pushes whom. Nope, you have to read the book to find out.
I notice on Isabel’s website that her second women’s fiction release, AS GOOD AS IT GOT, is also now available. You can bet it’s going on my Must Buy list. And this time it won’t take me a year to read it. (She says bravely).
Last night was Youngest Son’s last band concert. Every year his high school jazz and concert bands (he plays in both) stage a show at the local performing arts centre (yes, I spelled it the Canadian way for this occasion). It’s always quite an evening, full of song (as in singing), excellent music, and a lot of fun. Every year the graduating students band together (little pun) and buy their teacher a goodbye gift. He’s truly an exemplary teacher. I don’t know how he does it. Year after year, teaching those little cretins. Then picking up his saxophone to play with them in the jazz band. Very cool. In my opinion, it takes a certain sort of soul to become an exemplary teacher, and my hat is off to all of you out there who do it. This teacher has been with my son and most of the other kids graduating this year since grade seven, when he also taught part time at the elementary school to get the kids interested in music. That’s six years of teaching the same kids band. I know Y.S. has grown and developed a lot thanks to this teacher.
So, last night it was finally Y.S.’s turn to be among the band grads. They gave their teacher a podium that one of the students had built in woodwork class, and they’d had all their names engraved on a placque for the base of the podium. And it struck me…the last band concert…a few weeks ago the last band trip (a “Magical Mystery Tour,” where the kids literally did not know where they were traveling until they neared their destination, and we parents did not know where they were going either until after all the students had boarded the bus)…Y.S. is studying for his last few tests…next week my last child graduates high school…the following week he writes his last provincial exam (province-wide standardized tests for university entrance).
It’s hard not to get choked up when you’re faced with a lot of sentimental lasts. Twelve years of school rush by so quickly. It doesn’t seem that long ago when he was attending his first Kindergarten class…walking to school for the first time without me…then the first time without his big brother…then the first this and the first that…well, you know how it goes.
After he graduates, he’ll begin a whole new slew of firsts as the generous, ambitious, hopeful young man he has grown into. But, for now, he’s still my little boy in my eyes, and I’m soaking all the joy I can from the lasts.
I’m going crazy helping my two sons organize their college and university educations for September. So no blogging today, not when writing is taking a back seat to Mom Putting on Her Guidance Counselor Hat. Gah, I can’t remember juggling university schedules being this complicated back in the day. Of course, when you’re in Arts, you have some leeway in your course selection. Can’t get into American History? Try European History instead. Believe me, after helping two boys through this jungle and negotiating it myself, I’ve come to realize how much leeway Arts students have compared to Science students. Youngest Son wants to major in Geology and needs to take specific courses in his first year across the board. However, we live in a town where both the local college and the nearest university (next town over) are both small enough that, between lecture and lab courses, we are facing big scheduling conflicts. Cross your fingers that things work out. If you don’t find me around here for a few days or I’m just posting links to other places on-line, you’ll know why. The Mom duties must come first. Then the writing. Then the blog.
However, I do have a treat today. Yesterday, Avery Beck answered my call for the Cutest Baby MeMe. Hop on over to her blog and have a gander at the very, very, extremely cute baby picture of her son. I can’t get over that smile. He’s definitely in the running for Cutest Baby.
If anyone else wants to play, check yesterday’s post. Give me a baby picture to link to tomorrow!