Boy, that’s ugly. Prayers to everyone in the path of this nightmare.

Of course I meant this kind of swinging. What were you thinking?

So truly, I played on a swing at the park today, and it rocked. I can still go as high as I did when I was a kid. But it was 95 degrees and I sweat more now, lol.

I think it’s important to take a break from the load of adult responsibilities now and then, and rediscover the simple things. (She says when just last night, she was drinking to recover from a kid’s birthday party…so it works vice versa as well!) I’m not much on action figures or cartoons, but I find coloring with my son to be very relaxing. And swinging, apparently.

Then I came home to a request for a full manuscript! Squee and stuff!

How was everyone’s weekend?

1. I’ve found two other publishers where I can submit work. I’ve also discovered an interest in trying out new types of books (still romance, but different subgenres). The dream morphs, but it lives. I love this job!

2. It’s my son’s birthday!

3. Shout out to my BFF who is officially with child!! I shall drink enough celebratory wine for both of us!

*ETA: I done did some submitting. Now I have three things floating around out there instead of one! Feels good.

This Thursday, my first baby (this cutie) turns 5. Wow. Seems like just yesterday when I became indebted to the boy for positioning himself feet-down and allowing me to eternally bypass natural hell childbirth in favor of c-sections. Hallelujah! We’re celebrating this momentous occasion with a party at Chuck-E-Cheese, a place that leaves me trembling in fear.

You see, when I was a kid, I almost drowned in the balls at Chuck-E-Cheese.

I’m not making this up. Ask my mom. I have distinct memories of being covered in those damn colorful plastic things, unable to breathe or stick my head out for air because some unsupervised child was probably sitting on me. My husband insists this isn’t possible–he says you can breathe under the balls. I think not. Has anyone ever researched this burning question? Seriously. I’d really like to know if one does, in fact, have access to oxygen in the depths of the ball pit.

Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about my son suffering the same fate because there is no longer a ball pit in Chuck-E-Cheese. Wonder why??

I think I may be writing for the wrong line.

Ouch. Y’all who have been following this l-o-n-g journey know that I’ve been targeting the same series for quite a while. Four and a half years, in fact. Now, because of wait times I’ve only had two full manuscripts read over those years–both received fabulous feedback and got me a leg in the door, but they didn’t quite cut it. My third submission is on the editor’s desk now. Two others are still sitting on my hard drive waiting their turn.

So granted, I haven’t really submitted all that many stories yet. But I’ve noticed a disturbing pattern lately that a) my premises don’t quite fit what the editor is looking for, and b) I’m rarely moved enough by the blurbs of the currently published books to actually buy them and then spend a whole evening reading them. Does this mean I’ve lost interest in the series? (Sob.) Or am I just burned out? I told Fabu Editor when we met at conference that I have a difficult time judging anymore whether my plots are on track with the line, if the hooks are big or not, etc etc…she said that’s normal. That I won’t always be able to tell, but she will.

I find myself writing books that I love but don’t seem to fit a specific market. Or if I think they fit a certain market, the Powers That Be disagree. I’ve considered starting over with a different line. There are a couple I think I’m capable of doing and would enjoy. But that’s the painful part. Starting over means weeks and weeks spent just reading the line, to get a feel for the market and tone. It means submitting to editors who have never heard my name and tossing out several years of ladder-climbing to fall back to the bottom again. I am just *so* familiar with my current series, I wonder if I’d be better off sticking it out there.

Since I’ve got a stack of manuscripts waiting for this particular editor, I may put that on hold for a while and dabble in some new stuff this fall and over the holidays. Who knows, I may find killer talent where I never knew I had it. That 24-hour Christmas music is incredibly inspiring.