Near-Death Experience

This afternoon I experienced my worst nightmare.

Try not to laugh. My husband couldn't help himself though, even when he realized the seriousness of the situation.

Have I previously mentioned my extreme arachnophobia? Well. I'm generally a rather brave person. Blood, vomit, dirty diapers? No problem. Bring it! Skydiving, marathoning, parasailing? Yes, please. Even my other deep-seated, slightly irrational fear of serial killers has nothing on this. I have convinced myself that I would fight back using the mad skills I learned from self-defense classes, kickboxing, and Oprah specials (oh, yes). However, there is no fighting spiders. Something to do with all the legs. *shivers*

My big fear? Having a spider crawl on or in front of me while driving.

(Are you laughing yet? Pfft.)

The problem is, when it comes to spiders, I become a completely irrational, screeching, jumping freak. It's like a nerve damage problem. No matter how much I try to control the flailing and screaming, put an eight-legged monster in front of me, and I lose control. I've always been afraid that if a spider got to me in a car, I might cause a freeway pileup.

So there I was, minding my own business, chatting to my husband on my (hands-free!) cell, when a spider appeared on the INSIDE of my windshield. Cue MAJOR panic attack. Thankfully, I was sitting at a stop light, so I didn't crash into anyone. There was a gas station just before the light, so I was praying the spider wouldn't move before I could get to it and jump out. No such luck. The fat little beasty started opening and closing it's mouth at me in an attempt to hiss (spiders DO hiss, don't argue!), and then started crawling up the windshield closer to my face. At this point I'm sure all my husband heard on the other end of the line was high pitched squealing and hyperventilation. Luckily, the light changed, so I drove with my head cocked to the side and as far back as possible. Just in case. Pulled into a no parking zone, jumped out and proceeded to scream and flail, before removing my sandal and dealing the hideous monster a death blow. (Followed, of course, by more squealing.)

Husband's biggest concern during this interaction? That I would make a fool of myself. Ha! Not scared of that, clearly. Done and done! (Psh. Called my sister while still shaking afterward since her irrational fear of moths makes her much more sympathetic!)

I survived this round. However, husband has a major spider hunting task in my car tonight, as I may not be so lucky next time.

EURGH!

Hiding

Hello?

Anyone out there?

It appears the blog needs another good dust-off since I last wrote.

I spent the past month in my editing hidey-hole, but I finished the *final* revision this week! I am beyond excited, but also mildly terrified, because that means I have to take the next step on this journey.

I wrote my query letter, made my list of preliminary agents, and now it's go time.

*Eek*

I plan to start sketching and outlining book 2 soon, but could use a small break in between. Meanwhile, I have a pile of books to read, a synopsis to write (just in case), and a pool to visit for some vitamin D time, but I would like to avoid the obsessive email-check-itis.

So. Any ideas for distraction while I wade into query territory?

Note to self...

In the future, don't edit the intimate scenes at public coffeeshops!

Yesterday I spent a few of my holiday hours working on the novel revisions. Somehow I didn't realize just what chapter I was on, until I was stuck there, peeking over my shoulder every five seconds to make sure know one could read my writing! So embarrassing. Although, it did increase my editing speed immensely! *giggles*

Do you ever find yourself looking over your shoulder when you read or write romantic scenes?

Recovery

After a surge in posting, things have been quiet on here lately.

I'm in recovery mode.

I took my laptop to Apple two weeks ago to fix a few minor things: the case had developed two cracks--after being fixed a year before--and after that repair, my screen also developed an annoying and persistent flicker. Although my warranty ran out, Apple kindly agreed to fix these problems free of charge. I was delighted...until I went to pick up my laptop.

Apparently Apple's policy is to fix any problems that they find, regardless of the scheduled repairs, so it leaves Apple with their stamp of approval. A commendable policy. Unless, of course, they replace the hard drive without alerting you, dispose of it, and you lose everything.

*sigh*

I did a partial backup before the repairs. I saved my novel, of course, and some other stories, but I lost loads of research and music, and other files because I didn't have time or space to back up. Lesson learned for the future! Invest in a $40 flash disk, even if you only have a minor repair. It will save a lot of time and tears.

Thankfully, I found an old flash disk with an older backup version of my writing file, so I recovered some of the files I was fretting over. Now I'm trying to find all my old bookmarks--agents, writing friends and websites: all gone--and slowly setting up my laptop again.

It may be quiet around here as I continue to revamp and personalize my laptop.

Offline

I'm a bad blogger. I keep meaning to post writing updates; I often have random ideas and think, "Hey, that would be a good post." But I don't get around to it.

We entered our 'busy season' early last month, and I'm trying to keep my head above water. We made it through the spring birthday season (Husband and I, plus two parents, a grandma, a brother-in-law, and numerous friends) and mother's day. On the writing front, I submitted short pieces to four separate journals and attended two events in San Francisco by the HCNC for my research. (At the second event I chaperoned a survivor, which was an honor and a great experience. A story I wanted to share, but alas, the moment is gone.)

But soon we enter the real pandemonium.

In three weeks we're heading home for a long weekend, which will include sister C's 18th birthday, sister A's baby shower (which I'm helping to plan), a graduation and graduation party. When we return, we have a wedding and baby shower the same afternoon. July brings my baby niece, a wedding and sister B's birthday (on the same day, incidentally), as well as my ten-year school reunion, which I may or may not attend.

For some reason I thought this would finally be our quiet summer. Ha!

On top of all that, Husband and I devised a new work schedule for me. I was struggling with my edits, so he created a goal-oriented incentive program to keep me on track. I work well on a deadline. My aggressive goal is to finish this revision by the end of May. (For which I will receive a nice dinner, a pair of shoes, AND a new outfit!) If I reach this goal, I will have revised over 130 pages in May. Suffice it to say, I have not slept much the past two weeks.

All of this is to tell you I am sorry for being a bad blogger, and I promise to return to some kind of regular schedule after I finish this draft. Also, I have not forgotten my pay-it-forward recipients. I am almost finished with the gifts and will have them in the mail shortly! I'm signing off for now, but hope to see everyone in blogland again soon.

My Holiday Formula Broken Down

Racing the rain to replace windows and a sliding glass door
+

two cars breaking down in two days
+
another car break in
=
Pre-Holiday Madness and no blogging

~~~

Five bottles of wine
+
Five best friends
+
Husband's wonderful cooking
=
A perfect holiday party

~~~

Twelve books
+
Husband
+
Boxcutters, Exacto knifes, glue and a paintbrush
=
My most difficult Christmas craft to date
(Secret book boxes)

~~~

Nine hours of driving (one way)
+
One foot of snow
+
Bald California Tires
+
One Crazy Dog
+
Three Families
=
A Wild White Christmas with Chains

~~~

Why?

I'm trying to stress less and stop being such a worrywart, but what's a 4-cup-a-day-girl to do when her coffeemaker goes on the fritz?

I only discovered that coffeemakers require 'descaling' a few weeks ago when my espresso machine began sputtering and I turned to the user's manual to find the answers. I grew up in a soft-water area, so this ultra-hard-water nonsense is frustrating.

I'm currently "running" descaling solution through both the espresso maker and the coffeepot, unfortunately my 12-cup coffeemaker has only made it halfway to the 10-cup line in an hour.
(A kind Starbucks barrista took pity on my decaff-induced glassy eyes and gave me a packet of solution this morning when I left the apartment to purchase a cup.)

It might be a slight understatement to say that panic has set in.

Pick pick pick

My fingers are a wreck. When I get anxious, I pick. I'm not a nailbiter. My nails are always in shape; it's the cuticles and hangnails that I torture. I usually don't even notice I'm picking until Husband grabs my hands to stop me. In my anxiety over taking the next step, I've taken up the old bad habit. I need to find another way to handle anxiety. Normally I run. But lately I've been too lazy. I guess I better dust off the old running shoes before I convert my cuticles into a scabbed red mess.

I have yet to start the second draft typing/edit. Last weekend I said I would begin on Monday. But there was a doctor appointment I forgot about. And a last minute vet visit with Drew (apparently he developed seasonal allergies). The next day I had to take the blood test my doctor ordered, and Husband asked me to have lunch with him. See where I'm going with this.... Somehow I arrived at Friday with no progress to show for myself. I'm unbelievably frustrated with my inner procrastinator. I know it's important to let the first draft sit untouched for awhile, but in my case I need to type all the handwritten chapters before I can edit in earnest. Plus, it's been months since I wrote chapter three, which is where I planned to start typing. On the one hand, I'm eager to read what I wrote since it seems a bit hazy and distant. On the other hand, I'm terrified to find that it's all mush. And so, until I can properly beat out the procrastinator in me, the anxious finger-picking will continue.

Serious Cereal Thoughts

I'm panicking. I stopped at five separate stores to pick up my crack in a box favorite cereal, and not one had a supply. It's one thing when there's a label on the shelf and they've just run out; it's another thing entirely when they simply don't stock it. Four of the stores usually carry it, and I checked the fifth to be safe, but to no avail.
I haven't bought my favorite morning treat in weeks. It was on a good sale so I figured I better hoard a stash, though at $4 a gallon I think driving to five separate stores may have cut my savings a bit.
I’m concerned that without my usual morning fix breakfast, my writing will go downhill fast. Husband has already witnessed the depressive effects of these fruitless store runs. This drug cereal is so good that occasionally I get excited at bedtime because I know I get to wake up and enjoy it the next morning. I’m crossing my fingers (and toes) that the company hasn’t decided to discontinue the product for some crazy reason. I don’t want to suffer a cereal breakdown.

Writing tip of the day, courtesy of Glimmertrain:

"Writing first drafts is the experience of not knowing how to do something and persisting at it until it begins to feel right." –Charles Baxter

(So it's not just me then?)

Enchanted ebay walks

I hope everyone had a lovely weekend. Things have been very exciting around here...for instance, I won my first ebay auction tonight! It was SO stressful. Sheesh. I knew there was a reason I search for good deals online, and then simply whisk them to my cart. Unfortunately I've been trying to find a special present and I couldn't find it anywhere else, so I had to suffer the heart-pounding last minutes of bidding. But I won. Yay! It's never been so exciting to have to finalize my payment details online.

On Saturday I forced husband to see Enchanted with me and it was wonderfully witty and sweet and just so funny. It's a perfect date movie, and I bet the boys will enjoy it more than they would think. Husband did.

And finally, I'm moving a little slowly today after dragging an old friend all--okay, not quite all, but pretty darn close--around San Francisco. The weather was beautiful for a January in SF--but as Twain famously (did not) say "the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco." We began in Union Square, marched through Chinatown and Little Italy, down the hill past the cable car turnaround to Ghiradelli Square where we enjoyed some free chocolates and an exceptionally long line for warm chocolaty drinks before heading toward the beach and walking through Fort Mason and along the Marina to the Palace of Fine Arts. We continued on until we reached Lombard Street, then walked through Cow Hollow and eventually up the very large hill until we crested and looked down on 'the crookedest street' before moving on. At this point, we knew the direction we should head, but we were walking into unknown territory, so we overshot our turn by more blocks than I care to admit and ended up showing off some less-interesting areas before walking down Market back to Union Square and on to a well-deserved and unfortunately unfilling, but very tasty asian-fusion dinner.

Burn

I cannot seem to put any good words on the page this week. I open Word, stare at the page full of crap words, then minimize the screen to cheer myself up with some blog reading.
Everything distracts me these days. My messy desk. Piles of paper. The internet. The dog. The building fire alarm at 10am this morning screaming Eeeeeeeeeeee for 30 minutes. The firemen who finally came to turn the alarm off. All the cleaning I need to do before guests arrive in two days.
So. I cleaned. I intended to clean only the shower. If I clean one mess at a time, I reasoned, I won't waste too many writing hours, and I'll get it done by Friday evening.
But. I cannot stop cleaning once I start. My rationale says, "What's the point in cleaning the shower, if you don't wipe the counter. And, of course, you must sweep after you wipe the counter. And then vacuum, because all that dust from sweeping is on the carpet now. Well, while you're at it, you may as well organize junk into that storage unit you bought a month ago and haven't used yet."
Result? The apartment is much cleaner and I did some serious organizing. Unfortunately, I'm now distracted by my burning nostrils from all that Lysol I used in the shower, and I'm cold because I have the fan on and the window open in order to air out the bleach smell. Still, I created a space for a rice cooker that a friend gave to us. Our rice always turns out crap, and he got a fancy one for his wedding, so we inherited the old one and now we can have perfect rice. Plus, I found two bottles of wine hidden away in the hall closet where the rice cooker was waiting for a new home. Fancy that, hidden wine just waiting to be found! Perhaps I'll have it with my rice?
Seriously. I need to go write now...

A Slip Into Irrationality

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I utterly loathe spiders. I cannot understand how I can be a fairly rational person most* of the time, and yet one tiny little incident with a spider can spiral me into out-of-control panic. During my shower today, I turned from the spray of water to face the hideousness of four pairs of legs crawling across the top of the shower ledge. EEEEEEEEEK! Panic set in and I could do nothing but cower across the shower as far as I could, screeching, while still trying to finish washing so I could leave the shower as soon as possible. Poor Drew came into the bathroom nonplussed and looking to defend his mama from this thing that made me scream, but he couldn't see the spider. He once saw mama screeching while battling a spider on the floor, and he bravely tried to run at it for me, but really didn't know what else to do. The worst moment was when the spider disappeared over the ledge and I could no longer keep track of its whereabouts, while still suffering the knowledge that it was there, somewhere. I ran to pull on clothes and grabbed the bottle of Raid, only to discover that there is a hole on top of the ledge where the spider presumably came from. Oh God, a Nest! I thought. I sprayed it liberally, not feeling guilty about killing any lurking creatures. I'm not normally a violent person, but I do not believe in letting spiders live so the horrid creatures can procreate and hide in my home. Eurgh. It gives me the willies just thinking about it. I realize my fear is irrational and that they are much smaller than me. (But you see, that's what's scary - they could sneakily crawl up onto me without me realizing it!) I've always refused to take kindly to them, even with the very charming Charlotte's Web attempt, I always knew they were evil (eight eyes! eight legs!) and someone upstairs made a mistake in creating them. Now I must spend the next few hours waiting for husband to come home and make it better while I itch involuntarily.

*Excepting the few circumstances where I worry about the silliest things such as the future, my writing, etc, etc.

Post Haste

Late post tonight. Husband is still not home and I'm avoiding my work since I only finished dinner. He just called to say he was late because he lost track of time chatting after his 5:30 meeting. Who does that? To be fair, it is his first day at his new job and he's really excited about it; though to counteract that argument, he has been consulting for this company for months, so it's really nothing new. Hmph. I'm always teasing him for liking his job so much. I think he actually wakes up excited to go to work, and I'm not sure he's ever been hit by the Sunday evening blues. I mean, I like mine, but the pay is crap! ;)

Today I made some headway on editing. I seem to spend 2/3 of my time editing and 1/3 writing new material. I suppose by the time this draft is done, it will really be a second or third draft rather than a first draft, so that's positive at least. I'm passing along two chapters to a trusty writerly friend to read so I can get some outside perspective, so I want to make sure these chapters are ready to be read.

Finally, I was a very naughty girl today. I was trying to be good. Got up, edited, started to update my blog. And then. I went to Amazon to update the book I'm currently reading because I finished Zuckerman Unbound and started the third book of the trilogy The Anatomy Lesson. When I looked at the webpage, it of course showed me similar books, including The Prague Orgy, which is the epilogue to the Zuckerman trilogy. Which I don't have. Which was on sale for $9! So I promptly added it to my cart. Mistake numero uno. Since it's not worth buying the sale price on Amazon without the free shipping, I decided to look around. Mistake numero dos. I've been wanting Jeff Buckley's CD Grace for some time and discovered it was only $7.99. Into the cart it went. Hmm, if I only spend $8 more, I'll get free shipping, and shipping is $6 anyway, so that's like $6 free in spending money right? So I'm only really spending the $2. Or so my logic goes. I ended up with the book, the CD, and I added on Suite Francais, which I've been wanting since it published because at my old job I worked on a biography of Irene Nemirovsky, but I've been waiting for the paperback, and then of course I really wanted the paperback on sale, which it was at 40% off. *sigh* But yay, I'll get a cool package in a week or so!

Those days

It's been one of those days. Nothing bad per se, but lots of little things combined to upset me. Printer's still not working, so I have to spend $20 on a new cartridge before I can print my chapter for review. My trusty Mac laptop, which rarely throws fits, has been rearing its ugly little subversive head, slowing things down and causing annoying problems. Nothing lost but time, luckily.
And people are just annoying me.
And I need to go grocery shopping, but don't wanna.
AND I got a jury summons in the mail today. Trying to stay positive about that: "Oh, could be good story material?" But it's not really working. Last time I got a jury summons (also my first time), I didn't get called. Let's hope my precedent holds, but knowing my luck I'm not crossing any fingers.
Lastly, after my success at finishing a story on Tuesday, I've barely made any progress on the novel, which makes me irritated with myself.
I am going to curl up with my book(s) this weekend and hopefully get over this funk! (Finished Portnoy's Complaint last weekend and LOVED it. So funny in such a subversive way. I'm about 2/3 through Zuckerman Unbound now and I'm hoping to start the third novel in that series, The Anatomy Lesson, this weekend.)
Happy weekend, bloggyland!

Step away from the printer!

Anyone else ever want to throw misbehaving machines? In this case, my printer has been misbehaving for weeks. Usually it's the black ink cartridge--I'll never buy the generic brand again!--which is annoying since I'm usually printing off pages to read. This time it's the color ink cartridge stopping all printing and all I want to do is print my pages in black and white, but no, that can't be done if either of the cartridges misbehave. Bloody irritating technology. Don't get me wrong, I mostly love technology, but it does have a way of angering me like nothing else can. If it would only do its job!