Puppy Sleep Deprivation

New puppies mean waking up a million times in the middle of the night. For the first few weeks Emmy had to go out every 2 hours. Which meant we were very tired. John and I take turns taking her out, but even so, when she wakes up whining to go out, it wakes me up whether it's my turn or not. So between that, and taking her out a half dozen times in the evening, it made for a very tired me. And she's just so darn adorable all we want to do is play with her. So no writing got done.

Then we had our monthly writing day 2 weekends ago, and I got back in the writing groove. I'm still not writing as often as I'd like, but at least I'm back to it. The monthly write-in was tonight with the people who do NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) here in St. Louis. I wrote about 2000 words, but they were very hard-won words. I worry that when I go back to read them again I'll axe most of what I wrote. I have a lot on my mind right now, and my head just isn't in a good place. I know where the plot will go, but not how to get there, so I fought and fought, and had I now know it would be bad for my laptop, I would have banged my head on the keyboard repeatedly. It was one of those night. Thankfully they are rare for me, but when I look forward to something as much as writing days, and it is such hard going, it's very frustrating.

I also have to go to physical therapy 3 times a week for my knees. My left knee has been hurting for no discernible reason. My right knee hurts because of a partial tear to the PCL I got in a motorcycle accident 6 years ago. I figured since I was going to get the left one fixed up, I may as well work on the right one while I'm at it. So between a full time job, PT 3 times a week for an hour each, plus doing my exercises twice a day, Kung Fu 2 nights a week, puppy training class once a week, I haven't had a lot of time, and when I do, I've been pretty exhausted. It will pass though, and life will get back on track. Must stay positive.

Speaking of NaNo, it's 4 months away. That should in theory be plenty of time for me to finish Ravaged Heart, so I can start November with a clean slate and a new novel. Not sure what the next novel will be yet, but I really hope I get this one done in time. The point of NaNo is to start a new novel, and I don't want to put this one on hold if it isn't finished (at least a rough draft), but I want to be able to participate as well. So wish me luck and lots of inspiration between now and then.

And 3 weeks from now I'll be in Washington, D.C. Because of the aforementioned "things" on my mind, I am unable to make my trip to China. Too costly right now, and I have to pretend to be a responsible adult. DC will cost a fraction of what China would, so the last week of July that's where I'll be. Going to see Dream Theater and Queensryche on Aug. 1, and have backstage passes to meet Dream Theater, get autographs and a picture with them. So excited. I'm tempted to pull the old high school trick and hang a countdown calendar on my desk at work. Yes, I may have recently turned 30, but I rarely feel nearly that old. It's all the mindset. :)

Growing Family

Last Sunday John and I went to Petsmart to get kitty litter and other miscellaneous kitty supplies. We came home with this:



C.A.R.E was there doing their adoption day. I've looked at many puppies at many Petsmart adoption days and always left empty handed. But it seems if I have some encouragement, that steel will goes right out the window. There was a cage with 3 puppies, 2 bigger than the other. We tried to pet the little one, but the other 2 kept pushing her out of the way. John told the volunteer that he wanted to see the little one. I knew this was a very, VERY bad idea. You can't hold them. If you do, it's all over. So he held her for a while. Then he handed her to me. Oh dear. Then he asked if I wanted her.

"We really shouldn't."
"But do you want her?"
"We really shouldn't."

It went on like this for a while. As it was going on, I was still holding her. I should have known better. But I had to try to be responsible. I failed. Finally:
"Do you want her?"
"Yes."

And it was all over. So yes, it was a bit of an impulse adoption. But I've thought about what it would take to have another dog, the work it will take, and all that stuff, so it's not like we're going into this blind. And we're very happy with her. Maybe even more important, Tiberius absolutely adores her. He's the best Big Brudder. She's 4.6 pounds, he's 86. He's very gentle with her. He lets her chew on his tail. And when she wakes whining in the middle of the night in her crate, he hurries over to make sure she's ok. He is thrilled to have someone to play with besides the cat, because while kitty will sometimes play with him, more often she runs and hides. Emmy is always ready to play with her Big Brudder. They love each other and get along great, and she's so sweet and adorable. So I'm very happy with the decision to bring her home. I'm also very exhausted. Waking up every 2-3 hours in the middle of the night to take her outside to potty is tiring. I can't even nap when I get home from work, because Tibs and Emmy are making too much noise playing, and I don't want to put her back in the crate since she's been there all day. So I catch a few mini-naps when she's sleeping and drink lots of coffee. I haven't had any time to write this week, but that's what comes along with a new puppy, and that's ok.

Emmy is sleeping under my desk right now and Tibs is next to my chair. Very cute.

Updates to My Website

I added a page to my website. You can now read excerpts from some of my work. Right now there is one essay from "In the Moment" and one unpublished poem. I will add more as time goes on, and will post here whenever I do. Feel free to leave comments here about what you think.

http://www.jenniferksights.com/excerpts.html

On a separate note, Ravaged Heart is coming along nicely. The official word count right now is 16,000. I hope to write more tomorrow, but tonight am a bit too tired for anything besides technical website stuff, and even that has taken what is left of my brain power. I'm not a web designer, but I can take a template and tweak it to include my own content. However, I haven't found a good web design program for the Mac (I haven't looked too hard either though), so for the basic changes I've been making, I'm doing straight text editing in an .html file. Hurts the eyes after too long. So if you know a good free or cheap program for Mac, please let me know. Something similar to Dreamweaver would be nice.

Writing and Working Out

I joined a gym. I decided I needed more activity than just Kung Fu twice a week. More aerobics. My cardio is horrible. I can barely jog a mile. So I decided to take an aerobics class at the gym. I'm in worse shape than I thought. Five minutes into the warm up I was huffing and puffing. But I stuck through the whole hour. It was a great workout. Keep this up and I'll be running a marathon in no time. OK, not really. I have no desire to run a marathon. But I'll be in better shape. The workout left me pretty tired. "They" always say not to workout before bed, because you won't be able to go to sleep. I understand the theory of the endorphins or whatever running through your system, but I never have that probelm. A good hard workout and I'm ready to pass out. I took a half hour power nap on the couch after a shower, then got to work writing. 1500 words. I'd like to write more, but I'm tired, and my head hurts a little. I think I'll play with the puppy for a while then see how I feel. But still, 1500 words is good progress. I still don't quite know where the novel is going, but every time I write it flows out easily, and I just can't get enough time to write.

Cutting Chapters Already

I had about 9000 words on the new novel. I was trying to figure out how to bridge a time gap. Then I realized I didn't need the first few chapters and had to cut them out. So there went more than 2000 words. Wrote a little more, realized I could salvage some of what I cut, just in a slightly different manner. So after an hour of cutting, re-adding, and writing, I'm back to 8500 words. I also spent some time yesterday freewriting on what I think the main plot of this novel should be and have a much clearer idea of where it might go. I say might, because as Divided Heart showed me, my characters have their own ideas and take the story in entirely new directions that I never imagined. Can't wait to see where they'll take me in this novel.

New Projects

I finished editing my paranormal novel, which now has a title. Divided Heart. I've sent out 6 queries so far, and received 1 rejection. That one came within less than 48 hours of e-mailing it, and said "please know that I give serious attention to every letter, outline, and writing sample I receive." When an agent receives dozens upon dozens of queries a week, I'm not sure how they can give that much time to each one in less than 48 hours. Oh well, nothing to be done about it. I'll just keep sending more. I have a very good feeling about this novel, and know it will be published.

I also began writing the sequel, which amazingly enough already has a title. Divided Heart was written, edited, revised, edited some more, revised some more, and it still didn't have a title. So it is surprising that this one had a title when I had only 1 chapter written. I don't even know what most of the story will be. I know bits and pieces, and more is forming in my head, but ask me to write an outline of it and I'll stare at you with a blank face. The first one had no plan until I was typing, and that's how I think this one will be too. But that's alright by me, I like being surprised by my characters.

Oh, you want to know what the title is? Ravaged Heart.

My writing group's monthly meeting was this past Saturday, and it was a very welcome meeting indeed. As always, I got a lot of writing done and received some very helpful feedback. We also discussed some business ideas. More details when they're ready to share. I can say we will be putting together another anthology of poems and essays. No publication date yet though, as it's in the very early stages of planning. Other exciting things were discussed as well. So stay tuned.

And now I'm off work on more query letters, and the new novel.

Editing 99% complete

I just finished reading my novel aloud to myself. There is one chapter that needs a bit of tweaking, and one place I need to do a bit of quick research to clear up some facts, but I will have that done tonight. Now I'm ready to write the synopsis and query letter, and start trying to find an agent. WooHoo!

Respect

Respect. Why is this so hard for some people? I went to see J.D. Blackfoot at the Sheldon Concert Hall last night. He is a classic rock legend (well, should be a legend anyway) who got his start in St. Louis thanks to KSHE radio. He is an incredibly talented singer and songwriter, and loves his fans. The show last night was incredible, but there were some incredibly rude, disrespectful "fans" in the audience trying to ruin it for everyone else. His early albums, The Ultimate Prophecy, The Song of Crazy Horse, Tokala, are rock epics. His later albums tend to be softer, acoustic, introspective, poignant and sometimes humorous looks at life. Two very different types of music, but neither is better than the other.

Last night he played some songs from his forthcoming album "The Story of Texas Red." The format of this album will be him telling a short story, then singing a song inspired by that story. Story, song, story, song. So that is how he sang the songs on stage last night. J.D. has a deep, booming voice that would make any storyteller jealous. He brought the stories to life, touched my heart with them. Well, some "fans" did not agree. They only wanted to hear the rock songs from his early years. They didn't care about story telling. So when J.D. was on stage relating these stories, they thought it would be alright to talk loudly through the whole thing. A couple times J.D. simply sat in silence until the quieted down, then continued on with the story. More restraint than I might have shown. This went on for 2 or 3 story/song sets. Finally someone in the audience had enough and shouted "Shut the **** up." Maybe not the most eloquent phrasing, but it got the point across.

J.D. is an artist. He puts his heart and soul into his music and stories. Just because he may not be playing the exact song YOU want to hear, please listen and show some respect. Or if you really don't want to hear it, leave the auditorium and have your conversation in the lobby.

One of J.D.'s best songs from his later years is "Missing You in St. Louis." It is about the Vietnam War and friends lost. The war was before I was born, and no one in my family was involved, but I can't listen to that song without tears coming to my eyes. Last night J.D. invited the Marine Color Guard to the show. Four brave men in uniform carried the Marine and US flags, and 2 rifles, and stood on stage during the song. A man in the row behind me talked the entire time. I almost turned around and told him to show a little respect for those who have risked and given their lives for our freedom. Again, why is respect so hard?

Finally, toward the end of the show, J.D. did something truly amazing. He took perhaps 15 minutes to talk about friends, family, and fans who have died in the past year. He had several empty seats in the audience in honor of them. He acknowledged each and every one, and their families who are still here and were in the audience last night. Again, this brought tears to my eyes, even though I didn't know any of the departed. After about 15 min of this, however, one restless "fan" shouted out, "Play some music!" I wonder if he would have been so rude if any of the departed had been his family?

The show was excellent, even if the "fans" were rude, disrespectful, and downright got on my nerves. I hope J.D. continues making music and sharing it with us for many years to come. I will go see him every opportunity I can. I only hope his so-called "fans" show a little more respect at the next show. Artists work hard pouring their hearts and souls onto the page, the canvas, their instruments, to entertain us. If they wander from the norm a little bit, please indulge them. Please show some respect for what they do. So much of what they do is for us. We should give a little back to them to show our appreciation.

Almost Finished Editing

I have about 10 chapters left to edit. That sounds like a lot, but I write short chapters (usually 1500 words or less, which is only a few pages.) I will be able to complete that this weekend. Then it will be time to begin researching agents, write the query letter and synopsis, and send out queries. For me, the query letter and synopsis are the hardest parts of writing a novel. You have to condense the whole thing into 1-2 paragraphs (for the query) or 1 page (for the synopsis.)

I'm still trying to figure out a title for the novel, which I will have to do before I can send out any query letters. Tina wants to see a synopsis, since she's only heard a small part of the novel so far, and she's going to help me come up with something. Titles are my weak point in writing.

I've also decided the genre is urban fantasy. It isn't as heavy on the mystery aspect as I initially thought it would be, and the more urban fantasy I read lately, the more I realize that's what this one is. I think it's a pretty hot genre right now, so hopefully that will be in my favor.

Memories of Marie

Today is the anniversary of my Grandma's death. I wrote this almost a year ago, and am posting now in honor of her.






Two weeks ago, on Easter Sunday, my Grandma passed away. It was two days before her 92nd birthday. She lived in a nursing home for nearly ten years, and the past year she was in and out of the hospital four times. Her death wasn’t entirely unexpected, but of course that doesn’t make it any easier. This was my mom’s mother. My dad’s father passed away when I was a baby, and I don’t remember him. My other grandparents died before I was born, including my mom’s father who died on December 23, and was laid out on Christmas day, when my mom was only twenty.

Grandma is the first person close to me in my family who has died. I’ve been to funerals before, but with one exception, they were all for distant family members I did not know. She and my mom shared the same birthday – March 25 – so the wake was particularly difficult because it was held on their birthday. This was the first wake at which I was part of the grieving family. It was an exhausting five hours, filled with the sadness of seeing my Grandma in the casket, the mental exercise of trying to remember the names of all my mom’s cousins who I have met in the past, but don’t remember, and the emotional exercise of trying not to cry too much, because if my mom can be so strong as to not cry, surely I can be, too.

I met Grandma’s good friend and long time neighbor for the first – and likely only – time. Grandma used to talk about Doris a lot. She didn’t drive, so Doris drove her on errands, to church on Sundays, shopping and Bingo. They even went to Hawaii together. It struck me as incredibly sad that I never met someone so important in Grandma’s life until her wake.

That thought brought forth full force the regrets that had only been poking through my heart until that moment. I wish I had spent more time with Grandma. There is so much I don’t know about her – such as why did she only have one of her two sisters in her wedding? – that now I never will. Sure, I spent time with her. We spent every holiday with her, birthdays, and I almost always went with my mom when she took Grandma to run errands. But I wish I had asked more questions, cared more about Marie and not just Grandma. Everyone keeps telling me I was a wonderful granddaughter, and Grandma wouldn’t change anything. Logically, I’m sure they’re right, but it will take time to believe that emotionally.

Grandma loved playing cards. She played Pinochle with her friends, and probably Bridge, but with me she played Kings in the Corner and Dummy Rummy, Crazy 8s and Old Maid. I remember giving Grandma manicures, filing and painting her nails. I remember one Christmas when I was in high school. Uncle Ron and Aunt Debbie (my mom’s brother and sister-in-law) gave me a basket from Bath and Body works. It contained a bottle of nail polish that perfectly matched the burgundy sweater I wore. I opened it and painted my nails then and there.

Every Easter Grandma got a large, rectangular communion wafer from her church, which we would break and share before Easter dinner – sometimes at Grandma’s house, sometimes at our house. I remember Easter egg hunts in Grandma’s yard, and sitting on her couch next to my cousin Matthew afterwards counting our nickels and quarters and candy, and maybe a dollar bill or two if we were lucky.

Every time Mom and I took Grandma on errands, she pulled out her coin purse to give us a few dollars before we left, and always told us to “tell Bill hello” if my dad wasn’t with us.

Grandma had a round ottoman in her living room. I liked to turn it on end, sit on it and roll across the floor on it. I remember a bowl of M&Ms on her coffee table, conspicuously void of any red ones, because of the scare that the red dye caused cancer. I remember playing with Grandma’s makeup. I never put it on, but loved to open the compacts and tubes of lipstick to look at the colors.

Grandma’s bed sat at an angle to the corner of the wall, and I would climb behind it during games of hide and seek.

The first time I did laundry was at the Laundromat near Grandma’s house – which is now a bakery near my house. I did not realize when I bought my first house it was only a few blocks away from where Grandma lived.

I remember when Grandma moved to the nursing home. I went with my mom to clean out Grandma’s house. We spent time looking through Grandma’s wedding albums, then the parents’ version of my mom’s wedding album, which Grandma had in a drawer. It was smaller, not the full album my parents have.

Grandma’s house was small – two bedrooms, one bathroom, living room, eat-in kitchen, sunroom, and unfinished basement. I never thought about there only being two bedrooms, yet one boy and one girl in the family. My mom later told me the sunroom was her brother’s bedroom, equipped with heaters for the winter, and fans for the summer months.

It is these small memories to which I wish I had paid more attention, for most of those I just wrote, I only now remembered. How many other small yet wondrous memories will I never recall?

The funeral was harder than the wake for me. It was not so easy to hold back my tears. The day started at the funeral home, where we said our final goodbyes. We each took a flower from the casket arrangement and lay it in the casket with Grandma. The night before, at the wake, I tucked the birthday card I made for Grandma into the side of the casket. At the cemetery, I took a yellow rose from the arrangement to press and put into my memory box. After that we went to Our Lady of Snows Shrine for a family luncheon. Even through our grief, the food was excellent. Grandma would have loved it. She always loved food, and ate well until her final days.

I went to Grandma’s grave today. It was a brief visit, only a few minutes, but I wanted to stop by, leave a fresh flower (the arrangements from the funeral are still on her grave, wilted) and tell her I miss her and hope she’s proud of me. I do miss her, but I’m happy she is at peace now, with her husband Leo again after thirty-seven years, and know that someday I will see her again.

I want to end with a quote. For my 8th grade graduation, Grandma gave me a greeting card. Within the card was another card, the size of a credit card, which had a painting of clouds and a quote on it. I have carried this card in my wallet ever since, and will keep it always.

"Whatever you dream, dream with all your heart - Whatever you try, try with all your heart - and happiness will be yours."