Carys Weldon Blog
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
The SwingSometimes I have trouble getting back into the swing of being a writer. Focusing on the screen instead of my kids and husband. But they make it hard. Take last night, for instance:
My married daughter and her new husband showed up last night. Well, she showed up and said she'd lost him somewhere up around Kansas City. So, her sister (the one that had the accident last year) and their dad went looking.
The married one had a walkie talkie that's batteries went dead. We got her new ones. They hadn't any more than left when the new son in law showed up. I asked him about his walkie talkie and he said that she wasn't answering so he turned his off.
It took them an hour or two after I called my husband's cell for them to get home. They were half way to KC already. (Yes, he drives fast.) Funny thing, he thought he'd seen his new son in law just around the corner from the house but figured that couldn't be right, so he kept on driving while our daughter tried the walkie talkie repeatedly.
And this morning, as I tried to pull up my blog here, the married daughter came in and chatted and chatted and chatted. It's great to have her home--and happy about being married and being here. (She wasn't spectacularly happy here as a 17 year old.) So, I enjoyed the chat but I kept trying to glance sideways at my nightmarish inbox and writing obligations.
One editor needs me to finish edits on a novel that was slated for release in April. (Yeah, I'm still working on that one.) One publisher wants information files on all my Carys Weldon titles that are in the queue. One agent wants to chat about the Kensington editor that has my stuff under review. One agent wants to talk about life in general. One fellow writer has asked me to join a project with her to do an anthology. Another asked me to read his story and comment editorially before he submits. (That's why I have the stupid editorial page on my website now, so that it slows down those requests--but still, I help friends if I can.)
All I really want to do is write about sex droids. LOL
But now I gotta leave to go get my hair done. (Will take about 3 hours because I have a lot of hair.) And I have workshop tonight, so I can get some help with that book I wrote in a week or two last month. I wrote so fast that I left out things like E on breathe. And I didn't capitalize the M in mother when she was spoken to (sometimes, anyway.) Minor stuff that needs proofread. And always the friggin' commas gotta be taken out.
What are people so anti-comma these days? When you see a comma in my books, stop, breathE, pause. The effect will be so much different than rushing through that line.
Ah. But that's what we have editors for. Telling us when to breathe.
With five kids times lamaze, and all the years it took, counting to ten--and a husband that makes me breathe heavy, you'd think I'd have a clue as to when to breathe and when to hold my breath, but no, I don't.
Sigh.
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