Work has been very busy! But I do see the light at the end of the tunnel – to use a horrible cliche.

Within the last month, I’ve had 4 final sign-offs with authors. That means 4 less books to work on. I’ve not taken on any new authors, so my list right now is around 11 authors. Not bad, since all of them are in varying stages of the publication process.

On my own personal writing, my lovely and brillant agent, Christine Witthohn, pitched my women’s fiction novel, A Life Unraveled, to several editors while she was at the Women’s Fiction Festival in Italy last month. All of them requested a FULL. I say, “Awesome!” We are busy getting that manuscript ready to ship out next week.

I’m hoping to hear back from the three other editors here in the US who have my middle-grade novel. Patience and a thick skin are much needed traits of an author. I’ve got the thick skin, but the patience is something I’m learning.

Hope all is well in your world.

Peace~ Kris

Have you seen this?

I mean, come on. A pole dancing doll? Seriously?

I’m not sure that it’s any better than the bazillions of “guns” out there for boys, but please.

What’s next? The “Dick” doll who shoves dollar bills in the Pole Dancing doll’s panties?

Geez.

Kris

Summer is winding down, and it’s unbelievable that’s it’s almost time for the kids to go back to school. The laws have changed in Michigan; school used to start before Labor Day, but now it must start after Labor Day. I’m not sure why this change happened.

I’ve not heard back from my agent as to if there’s been any response to the partial she submitted a couple of weeks ago. I’m planning on finishing it this week while N is in a hockey training camp in the event that a publisher is indeed interested. That would be awesome.

I’ve been spending some time on Twitter lately. It’s such a strange tool – letting unknown people have access to people who they normally wouldn’t have any access to – meaning “celebrities”. Some of them are really, really weird. Others seem to be just like a regular person. I dont’ mean that they aren’t normal, but you know what I mean.

I’ve found some really cool twitterchats. One that I’ve participated in is the #kidlitchat every Tuesday evening at 9pm EST. It’s a great experience as writers, illustrators, agents, and publishers get together to discuss a topic or two. I’ve put it on my calendar each week so I don’t forget about it.

All this technology really makes writing not as solitary as it can be.

Peace,
Kris

Since I’m taking the leap and really getting into my middle-grade fantasy novel, I’ve been thinking about tweaking my website/blog. It certainly won’t work in its current state if any of the publishers that my agent subbed the ms to are interested. Flowers and the words “women’s fiction” all of over will be a big turn-off!

I’m also thinking about creating a Twitter account for my main character of said MG manuscript. I think it would be great fun. But my question is, do I do it before I have a book contract or after? I should’ve asked this question during the #kidlitchat on Twitter tonight.

Anyone know of a good webdesigner?

Peace,

Kris

Last Thursday through Saturday, my younger son and I attended Cub Scout camp at D bar A camp in Metamora, MI. I had no clue what I was in for. We’d been given a list of items that we should bring, and I thought I did pretty well getting everything together. I forgot the rain gear. Oops. Thank goodness it didn’t start raining until we were getting ready for breakfast on Saturday. The bummer thing was that J lost out on free time Saturday morning because of the rain. We left early, but I certainly didn’t mind.

I had no idea we’d be at a site that was about a mile from where all of the activities were. Nor did I know that we’d be carrying all of our stuff with us. All day. And me, without a backpack, but a huge bag that I thanked the heavens for giving me some insight in bringing. I slung it over my shoulders, alternately from left to right so that I wouldn’t break my back. I finally figured out that I could sling each strap around each shoulder and carry it somewhat like a backpack. With all of my bitching and moaning (done internally, of course), I was surprised that I actually survived.

Now, I’ve been camping before. The husband and I used to do a lot of it pre-kids. But….we weren’t carrying our whole days’ worth of supplies on our backs. Okay, I digress…

J had a blast with bb guns, archery, bouldering, fishing, whittling, horseback riding, learning about reptiles, and playing human fuse ball. I’ll post some pics here so you’ll understand better what human fuse ball is.

Overall, we had a really good time. The campfire with the entire group was a lot of fun. The entire experience really made me wish that my older son could participate in Cub Scouts, but hockey just takes up too much time.

Here he is earning his Whittlin Chit. Don’t ask me  – that’s Scout lingo.

Here he is on Marigold. He quickly informed me that he loves horseback riding. Great. Another expensive sport.

Here is Human Fuse ball. Not the best photo, but you can get the idea. It’s a long, rectangle filled with sand. Each line has three spots that have three pieces of PVC.

The kids hold on to the PVC and try to score on the goalie.

My little left-handed archer.

J bouldering.

I wasn’t familiar with this, just rock climbing. Bouldering is when you go left to right, rather than up and down with rock climbing. See? I learned something.

I’ve made a list of the things to take next year because I’ve been informed that J will be going. No matter what.

I’m thinking that Mr. Yankee can go and share the fun next time.

Peace,

Kris

I can’t believe that August has already arrived. I don’t know where the times goes these days.

I’m really busy with work and writing. All is good in those areas. One of my new authors is the famous, Carol McCloud of “Have You Filled A Bucket Today?” fame. She’s working on a chap book for older kids. I think it will be very popular.

Hockey season has started already. Didn’t we just end? Hopefully the season will go well. Not sure if N will be on the team with the hubby being laid off. He is for now. Come time for the next ice bill, well, that’s another story if nothing changes on the job front.

Why is it that hubby can get a job in Colorado, Connecticut, or Arkansas, but not here? Where is the “change” we were promised?

Still can’t be all that mad at Pres. Obama – COBRA is a much better deal (I’m told) now that he’s in office.

Send prayers and good thoughts that we don’t have to move. That would suck.

On the writing front, my agent loves my middle grade novel and is talking about sending it out to publishers this week. I hoping that happens. Sure would help out!

Peace,
Kris

My husband and I are purging all of the shit in our basement for a garage sale/donation to whatever charity will pick up at our house. I thought this would be a cathartic experience. Out with the old. Get rid of the stuff that is taking up so much of our basement.

What I’m finding is that as boxes are opened, toys and clothes rediscovered, memories of my children’s childhood come rushing back. I haven’t thought about Rescue Heroes or Blues Clues or Veggie Tales in who knows how long. Clothes that seem like they should fit dolls are stuffed in boxes and bring a lump to my throat. How could my tall and wiry 10-year-old son have fit into something so teeny, tiny? Little socks make me want to cry. Old hats that both boys used to wear seem like treasures now.

My Lord, they are only 10 and 8 1/2, and already I feel as if their childhood has slipped away.

If I feel this yucky at this stage, how the hell am I going to feel when they are leaving for college, to get married and start a family of their own? It does not seem possible.

Yes, yes, I know. I’m being overly sentimental. Overly dramatic. But still. I’ve not thought about those long ago days of worrying about what to do and where to go with the boys. Writing was just a pipe dream. Having another job was out of the question. Where has the time gone?

Don’t get me wrong; I love my life. Okay, there are way too many things to do -which I impose upon myself-, to worry about, and to think about. My boys are at wonderful ages – except for the incessant bickering between them – and I cherish the memories I’m making with them now. But to hear my youngest say, “Oh, good times” when he picks up a computer thingy that we put atop a keyboard so he could chug Thomas the Tank Engine around on the the screen, it’s makes me pause. He, too, is understanding how time slips past us and our memories become dimmer.

Having to get ready for this garage sale has been good for my soul. I’m not saying good-bye to their childhoods, but embracing the times we have yet to spend together while remembering those that have already past.

Peace,
Kris

I hope you take a minute to thank all of the service people who spend their lives keeping us Americans safe.

Last night, we spent a wonderful evening with family and friends talking, munching, drinking, and watching our local fireworks display. We had such a great time.

Today, we are spending time with our family and working around the house.

Hope you have a lovely day.

Kris

I realized several years ago that I parent my children, in many ways, the opposite than how my parents parented me. Example: I was always told I had to try any new foods that were cooked, or I could sit at the table all evening long. I am very lenient with my children about new foods. This is probably very bad, but I’m the one who has to deal with it. Another example: My parents worked and/or where not home a lot. I chose to stay home with my children, rather than continue working.

Good or bad, I think that’s it’s normally to do the opposite of what our parents did. I’ve found, however, that some people do this to the extreme and thus end up resenting the decisions they’ve made, thinking that it would be better. Sometimes, parents aren’t wrong. Sometimes, they have really good habits.

Realizing, though, that we unconsciously do what our parents didn’t do can be eye-opening.

~Kris

Sometimes when I see myself in the mirror, I have to stop and realize that it’s actually me looking back. I have such a strange self-image, that I’m often times surprised at my reflection.

I’m not really as old as I think I am.

Strange.