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Monthly Archives: April 2009… And still not understand much of anything they say? Several examples are coming to mind right now, including multiple college roommates, parents, siblings, a husband and several children. I’m stumbling onto a breakthrough here… It’s possible that I’m a bad communicator. Shoot. I thought for a long time that I was a literate, articulate, witty and clever... Talking about writing is right up there on my list of Great Fun. It’s maybe neck-and-neck with actually doing good writing. I am so lucky to have a little group to write and talk with. Food will be eaten. Words will be read and pondered and nudged and improved. Fun will be had. (And all... (Part 2 of my reaction to Laurie Halse Anderson’s SPEAK) Wow. Just wow. It was stunning, and sad, and a little funny, and totally non-gratuitous. I hope all my kids read it (when they’re 14) and want to talk to me about it. There is a whole lot of obsessive teen angst-ing in YA lit these days.... By Laurie Halse Anderson I may be the last person in the world to read this book, but right now I have to run over to the elementary school (to do an art project in Kid 3′ class) and I don’t want to put the book down. It’s the kind of teenage angst that sits firmly... You know how some people who write have their own space? Like renting an office or something? Or even a room all their own in the house, where their computer is dedicated to their craft? No such thing here. I share an office. With a husband and four kids. When Husband works at home, he doesn’t work... The manuscript that has been collecting dust on the acquisitions editor’s desk since January? It couldn’t be found this morning. So they asked for me to send it again. Know what that means? Me either. But I’m hoping it means that maybe someone wants to make a (totally positive) decision about it RIGHT AWAY. **Crossing fingers** What does it mean to be fat? Not really, really skinny, I think. Here’s the thing. Often, and for a long time (at least the past 20 years) I will see a morbidly obese person, usually a woman wearing stretchy things through which I can see layers of cellulite, and think, “Oh, poor her.” And why... Today I heard a loud sound. My kids were playing a game in the basement, and the action was heating up a bit, and they were all shouting and cheering and laughing and SOUNDING LIKE FRIENDS! It’s a happy-making moment for a mom. I’ll remember that sound when the whining, ear-piercing squeals of “she’s not playing... |
