Oh yeah, baby!

Well, as I've stated on the blog before, my meds just recently made me gain about 26 lbs. Yes, that's right. Twenty. Six. Not 30. Not 25.

26.

And just in the last three months, at that.

Pardon me while I take a moment to grumble.

Okay, thanks, I'm better now.

To recap: I have fibro with bursitis complications. I take a medical cocktail daily of muscle relaxers, pain killers, and sedatives. Hard to be motivated when you live in a fog.

Two years ago, a friend sent me a Leslie Sansome Walking Away the Pounds VHS tape. Tonight, that booger got shoved into the VCR! That's right! I did two miles in 30 minutes! I'm sweatin' like a pig and omg, do my hips HURT, but dang it, they hurt all the time anyway. At least THIS pain is for a result!! AND I'm downing water like a gutter. I never drink water. Never. Yeah, really. Never. ONLY and ALWAYS Diet Coke (Just for the taste of it..goes well with chocolate frosted donuts.) So I'm hurting, and I'm sweating, and pardon me, but I'm so FREAKING PROUD OF MYSELF for finally DOING it, I want to scream it to the world.

Since the world couldn't hear me if I screamed (part of the neighborhood maybe, but not the world), I decided to declare my pride here! Tonight, I rock!

Woot!

Definitions, Labels & Nice Tidy Boxes

NONE of that applies in the writing world. Period. If it does, please prove me othewise.

First you have your book. No one will tell you how many chapters. No one will tell you how many scenes. And that's okay. That's not what bugs me. What bugs me is that no one can seem to give me a CLEAR CUT definition on things:

Chick lit: 1st person or not? 1st and 3rd? Only 3rd? Present or past tense?
Contemporary: What exactly is the difference between short contemporary and CATEGORY? Or are they the same thing? I don't think I've ever seen a short single title. I understand long contemporary. That could fit into category or single title.
Mystery/Thrill/Suspense: Why the hell do we need three words that say the same thing. Pick one and use it exclusively.
Blaze vs. Temptation vs. Desire: Well, they're all category. And Temptation is being weeded out of the States. So what exactly is the difference between Blaze and Desire? Same word count, and same type of "situations". I have yet to find a clear and defined definition that separates one of these from the other.
Misc Issues: Single Title vs Womans Fiction vs "With Romantic Elements". WTH? Wouldn't SINGLE TITLE cover it all?

And how, exactly, am I supposed to have a flippin' clue about MY work when the professionals that have been in the industry for YEARS can't even agree. It's quite frustrating. And in a bad way. Not frustrating in that really cool sexual tension kind of way.

Then, let's say I'm magically finishing a new piece of work. Some say print it in Times New Roman. Some say Courier. Some say word count is from the Word Processing count. Some say it's per word per line per page.

Shall I even start on the next phase?
Query Letters: One page, two page? I followed the query in a class from Nationals and sent it to one of the agents I have on my A-list via email. AFTER sending it, I showed it to a published author whom I adore. She told me that what I sent wasn't remotely a proper query letter. Great. Then WHY was that twit allowed to teach it that way at Nationals AND provide an example for us to use?!
Synopses: First of all, who the heck came up with this word? Have you tried to say the plural form outloud? It's not easy. They should be stoned, and not in a good way. Then, how long should it be? Some agents/editors want 10 pages, some want 1. Some want a varied length in between. BUT, they ALL want to "hear my voice" and tell them the plot twists and the flaws and strengths of the main characters and blah blah blah. Okay, I can do that: In 10 pages. Originally I had a three page synopsis. Why? I don't know. I guess I read somewhere that three pages was the desired length. Another multi-published writer from my local chapter said: Ohhhhhhhhh no, for that lenght of book, pull it out to 10 pages. (My paraphrase.)

So I did. Then I had to whack it down to five for one contest. Then to seven for another. Why can't anyone say "THIS ___ is the perfect length of a synopsis."? You can tell me what font to type in, but you can't come to a basic agreement on the length and detail of a query letter or synopsis? I don't GET that.

Then there's the agents. I just LOVE this part. We are HOUNDED, beaten into our very flesh, that we should ALWAYS know who we are addressing. Research and know the editor/agents name, address, correct title. Plain white paper. No scents (hard when you're a smoker, btw.) We spend money on our printer cartridge ($28), printer paper ($4), special folder to present it in ($3), water-proof mailer ($3), then postage, anywhere from $3.85 to $17 (Yes, I had one like that for a contest.) So we have their name, their addresses, the right font, the right query, the right synopsis, the right title of their position. We have it all perfectly put together and have not only sweated blood from wicked amount of anxiety, but also used up a crapload of time AND money. Right? Right. If you're a writer out there reading this, you're nodding your head in agreement? Right. Yes, I see the nodding again. THEN, after all of that, we STILL have to pay the little bitty $0.37 on a SASE! This KILLS me. We can fork out tons of money (not making any as a writer yet, yanno!) but they need OUR 37 cents when THEY are the ones actively being paid in the field. That's a RIOT. But we do it. The industry as a whole may not agree on pages or chapters, or fonts or queries, or synopsis or pitches or anything else, but they ALL agree on that little SASE. So fine. We do it. We've wandered through all the above things, all without definitions, get it together and send it off with our hearts bleeding and our brains exhausted.

And we wait.

And eat.

And our reward? A GENERIC rejection letter that doesn't even have my NAME on it. All of the proper etiquette of business what we make sure is PERFECTED is totally ignored by the real professionals. And it's OKAY because no one calls them out on it. Now, don't get me wrong. I've had rejection letters that were personalized and very kind. In fact, I've never had a 'nasty' rejection letter. (I haven't even had a rejection in 7 months, but this was bugging me today, so I spewed my venom. Deal.) The double-standard of it is appalling. And I consider the photo-copied-so-many-times-I-can-no-longer-see-your-signature-rejection letters, as well as the little postcards, or even my personal fav, where they crossed out "writer" and scrawled out "Brenda", to be the epitome' of unprofessionalism. If I'd sent my stuff to you at one time, and that's what I got in return, you can bet your lily-white you'll never see a piece of my work again. Agents like that lack the BASIC professionalism that I want from an agent. No, not want. EXPECT.

I guess I just contradicted myself. I said I wanted little boxes and definitions in the beginning of this. I've changed my mind, at least a little bit. I want my future agent to be so OUT of the box that I can be proud to say they represent me, knowing they don't consider the new writers out there to be scum on the bottom of their Ferragamos.

Pin Came!!

I'm so excited!!!

Now, if I can get to Nationals, I'll proudly wear it and be able to let the entire place know I'm a "Cherry"!

Bren aka Texas Cherry
(formerly known as Cherry Bobo)

Monday Musings

Not a lot to talk about today. I spent a lot of the weekend online, so now I don't have much to say. Of course, knowing me, I'll probably end up with several paragraphs of "nothing much".

Biggest news right now: I did not get one of the KOD scholarships for Nationals. I'm still waiting to hear from RWA about the essay I sent in. Hopefully that will come through for me. I have raised $300 toward airfare. I'm crocheting blankets (need an afghan? Think ahead to Christmas! Order now and help me get to Nationals!) Whoa. How's that for blatant begging? I have $500 to go. If I can sell 10 more afghans....

I got my cherry pin in the mail today. I'll wear it at Nationals so that JCF's will know I'm a Cherry. Two more dresses came today. Both are a bit too small, but I have a couple of months to get some of this stupid weight off. And I'm bound and determined to get my doc to do something about it. After all, it's the meds he put me on that caused this freakin' weight. He should be able to do something about it. Right? Right.

My 4 yr old (third born) had a meltdown this morning at school, and as she collapsed to the floor in her overly dramatic way, she pulled my shirt with her. Needless to say, as much pain as I'm normally in and causing me to take so many narcotics every day for LIFE, this totally wrenched out my entire right side, from my hip joint up to my shoulder blade. I just downed two Darvocets and one Flexeril (muscle relaxer) in an attempt to bypass the pain. My regular doses weren't TOUCHING it. Hopefully, these will kick in and I won't have the ability to sit here to type anymore on the blog.

See? Told ya I'd end up with several paragraphs, even though I supposedly had nothing to say.

Love,
Loose-Lips

Time Change & Hell...err..Texas.

How could I EVEN forget about time change? I'm one of those that cannot STAND DST. Whomever created this should be stoned. Yeah, yeah, I understand the reasons why it was implemented, but can't that go by the wayside. Besides hating this my entire life (I could live in the dark forever, I think...must be the suspense writer in me) now, as an adult, it's even WORSE! How do you explain to a four year old that it's bedtime when it's still light outside at 9pm?! That's just W R O N G. And, being in Texas, that puts off the cooler evenings until it's too late to be out anyway.

Being April, we're plunging into summer already. There are no happy mediums here. There's cold, cool, hot and HELL. (Okay, Hell is really Arizona, but since Hell was copyrighted by like...God, then they settled on Arizona instead.) But Texas, although it does have changing seasons and it DOES get cold here (some people didn't realize that. That cracks me up to no end.) there's a very VERY short time span between turning on the heater and turning on the A/C. My average electric bill in the summer is $300. No, I'm not kidding. Would I kid about something like THAT? No way in...Hell. Wow, we came full circle yet again.

So to those of you that love Daylight Savings Time, I'm scowling at YOU! I think I need to move to like....Nebraska. When I met The Alicia (Rasley) in San Antonio, she'd just left Nebraska and said it was beautiful. That's where I want to be. With every ounce of my being, I want to be in Nebraska. Even if it IS daylight savings time.

And what's up with Arizona getting out of clock changing anyway? Is that the consolation price for agreeing to live in HELL? Probably.

Time to Dye

As usual, there's a backstory to this little comment.

See that picture up at the top of the screen? That doesn't look like me anymore. That was taken right after I'd lost like 25 lbs. I've since gained them back. ~Takes a moment to glare at her pharmacy of meds on her desk~ Additionally, I whacked off my hair about two months ago.

10". That's a lot of hair.

My hair grows SUPER fast, and to have a short, "normal mommy" kind of haircut, I'd have to literally go in every 4 weeks to maintain it. So for the last 10 years or so, I'd get my hair cut short (over my ears) and by the same time the next year, it would be down tomy bra-strap again. When I started to regain the weight, I decided I was hiding behind my hair. Besides being super fast growing, it's very fine. BUT there's a ton of it. You should have seen me in the 90s! Man, my tons of fine hair would use AquaNet to its highest possibilities. So, anyway, I wanted change. I whack off 10" and decided to put "red" chunks in it.

I have very dark chocolate hair. So my natural "hightlight" would be on the reddish side. I wanted that trendy "chunky" look. I decided to do it myself. My husband decided to help me. So instead of chunkying it (Yes, that's a word now) he blended and blended and blended it in. So I had some chunks and a LOT of blending. Ugh. AND, now none of my clothes looked right because my "colors" had changed. I hated it. I waited a week, and went and bought my natural color in a bottle: dark ash brown. It covered almost all the red until the sun was especially bright. That's been about six weeks ago. And, if you read my blog yesterday, you know I just got it re-cut, two inches shorter than LAST time because it grows so fast. And I got a new bottle of dye: dark brown. This should take care of ALL the red...FINALLY!

Other than that, I'm attempting to get my KOD duties under control. Thank goodness for Misty and Christine! I think I'll be okay after I get a month of it under my belt. I'm a fast learner. I know this because I don't drool or wear a helmet in a car.

And I'm back on eBay, attempting to replace the black sausage dress with something new for the KOD banquet. And I need to do laundry. (Can you even imagine laundry for six, two of which are toddlers?! Only one person can whine to me about laundry, and that's Allison Brennen, who has FIVE kids.) Writers really aren't right-minded, I'm sure of it.

My hips are starting to do better. Thought I was going to crash and fall at the store last night. I'm still drunk from my drug-cocktail last night & it's time for my morning dose now (yeah, okay, so it's really almost time for the afternoon one, but in my world, we're still calling it 'morning'.) Unless something striking happens, this will be my post for the day. I bid you all a fabulous Sunday.

Bren

Lady in Red

My 2nd dress came today. It's absolutely lovely. A bit tight though. I swear, nothing is worse than losing weight then being put on meds that make you gain weight. But the biggest area of concern with my red dress is that the chest is too...tight. There's a shock, huh? The girl that described it said, "Or something very well-endowed". Ummm....I'm very, but it STILL smushes them up to my chin. That look really isn't in style right now.

And thus it begins. I'm determined to somehow lose the weight the meds made me gain. I'd asked my doc for Fastin to counter-effect the sluggishness and weight gain, and he said: "That's practically SPEED." I said: "Yes. And?" Apparently there's some time of liability issue. I'll call him again tomorrow and swear to sign away all possibility of lawsuit if he'll just help me. It's so stupid, really. I'm on meds because of joint issues, but the meds make me gain weight, thus putting more pressure on said joints. THERE'S logic.

So I'll beg him for something tomorrow. Plus I'll start my Leslie 2-mile VCR workout and hit the floor for some serious push-ups and sit-ups. I can already do sit-ups like a soldier...guess it's time to put it into action. And I'm going to see if B (that would be husband: Brian) will take my bike down. It's got one of those yellow cart thingies that attaches to the back so I can pull Cooper around. We'll see. My hips hurt just THINKING about it.

On a brighter note: Got my hair whacked again. It's short like I did two months ago, reshaped but then took another 2" off of it. Now I'm going to dye it again. (For those that don't know, I'd attempted home-based red chunks in my chocolate-colored dark brown hair. It didn't work. I redyed it my color and got most of the red out, but this one should do it completely.) LET'S HOPE SO!

The final plans for Reno are going into effect. I'm BEYOND excited. Be.Yond. I really need a break from life and there's nothing better in the entire world than RWA in Reno.

My daughter, the Mutant: An Introduction

So, way back in 1990, when I was 20, I gave birth to a mutant. You think I'm joking, but alas, I am not. After a wicked labor, this huge 9lb 10oz 22" baby was born. That kid's head was SO sloped it was still apparent in her 6 week old picture. I gave birth to an infant, not a newborn. She was being strolled to the nursery in that tacky plastic bassinet thingy they use, and this other teeniny baby was there, too. (Yes, teeniny is a word. Move to Texas if you don't believe me.) I said, "Oh my gosh! What's wrong with that tiny baby?!"

The nurse, not missing a beat, said, "Nothing. Yours is a mutant."

No, I'm not kidding. She was SO big, that a regular 7.5 lb baby looked like a premie. The really super sweet moment came when this Nurse Cratchit informs me, "Babies get bigger as you have them."

WTH? I'm 20 and I'm being told they get BIGGER as they come? You'd think that right there would have stopped me from having more. Alas, it did not. And, additional, Nasty Nurse lied. They all got smaller, with the youngest being a mere 7.5 (YAY! Oh, and there's another story...He kind of up and walked out. When you get to #4, they tend to do that.) Anyway, this is Shandie's story, so back to the topic at hand.

That's when it started. Shandie Alexandra Fontenot was born. And it's been a blast of a ride since. She's tall, already 5'8 (I'm 5'3, so to me, that's tall. Don't argue.) She's beautiful (I am NOT biased!) and as sharp as a tack. Rapier wit darts from her tongue, and yet she compliments me on a continual basis with comments like, "I want to be my mom when I grow up." Now how many (almost) 15 yr old's say that?! Pardon me a moment while I beam.

Now, like Shandie, I started writing in high school. Poems and short stories. They rarely got seen past my journal (no computers, yanno.) Of course they were these dark, gloomy works, mostly about my death or funeral, etc. Teenager kinda stuff. Shan continues this gene along, although she rarely writes as darkly as I did at that age. And, (another beaming moment coming! Put on the sunglasses!) she won the covetted position of Chief Copy-editor of the high school's school literary magazine, beating out upperclassmen that had worked on the mag way before she even came along. Additionally, they put her in the creative position of poetry contributor. Does the kid have talent? Absolfreakinlutely. Way more than I did at her age. And NOW is the time to hone it.

She reads adult fiction. After fifth grade, she could no longer score any higher on manadtory tests. She was testing at 12th grade, 9 month, which means her brain worked like that of a senior that just graduated. In 5th grade. She sometimes scares me. So now I'm telling her to write. She wrote this really creepy short story that would impress Stephen King (I know this, because I read Stephen King.) Suspense, gore, murder. I read it and looked at her, even knowing she's brilliant, shocked at her talent. So yesterday I start on her. Shandie, be a reviewer ( her new fav is Jennifer Crusie). I told her she should write young adult. YA is big right now, and she LIVES it. Put her talent behind what she knows in a field that's craving new work. I started writing at 24 myself, aiming for category (SIM) but at the time, that husband and that situation did not encouragement me to continue. If I'd kept at it these 11 years past, where could I have been today?! She's 14. Start NOW, Shan. Get it going, and by the time you're MY age, you'll be a pro and earning a true living doing what you love to do: writing.

So there's my intro of Shandie. Those wondering how to pronounce her name, it's like Sandy, but with an h. Shan-dee. Not Shawn-dee. Sandy with an h. Easy. In my novel currently making the rounds in contests, her middle name, Alexandra, is the hero's name of Alex. Now you know how I got his name. And now you know Shandie. Click on her link here at my blog and read about her. I know you'll find her as amusing as I do. Let me dig around and find a better picture of her and I'll post it. She IS my sunshine. (Another story there, but those that know it, know how it touches my heart.)

Until later....

Okay, so I lied

Gina and Allison are going to flog me, and in a bad way at that.

I just posted that I don't need a synop for The Molly. (cough) That's not quite right. I got my contests mixed up. For The TARA contest, I don't need it and THAT one isn't entire the 4th. For The Molly, I DO need a synop. ~cringe~ Don't hurt me.

The good news? The deadline isn't until the 14th of May!! So I have plenty of time to create THE perfect synopsis! Aren't you two beyond excited at that prospect?! Contain the excitement, girls, you'll frighten the others. Now, as long as my usual self-defeating procrastination rears its ugly, decaying, rotten rubbish head, I should be fine as rain come May.

Oh Lord, at least I hope so.

Writer is to Trial like Mother is to Tribulation

Remember those horrible tests when we were in school? What freakin' point WAS there to those stupid questions anyway? Must have had some impact, since I'm now thinking of them, 20 years later. EEKS! NOT 20 years...more like...17. There. That doesn't sound *quite* as painful. Does it? No, it doesn't. Agree with me because I'm having a wickedly bad day.

To save face as The World's Worst Mother (of four kids, no less), I will not rant and rave about my children and the angst they're causing me. Well, in all fairness, I shouldn't say "ALL". My oldest three are girls. The youngest, age 3, is my angel boy. His smile will melt the coldest of hearts, and his manners impress school personnel and gets him a free toy at the McD's in Walmart, even when we're not buying anything! If you ever wondered what a romantic hero may have been like as a young child, look no further than my little man. He will be a heartbreaker, and having three big sisters, he'll know women inside and out. And being my child, I'm sure he'll use that knowledge to its full extent. ~frown~ Sounds like he's going to be a player, doesn't it? Well, at least he'll be a cute player with killer manners. He already ushers girls before him through a door. Yes, that's right, he's three.

There. That's my "good" stuff. Don't ask about the girls. The blog will turn ugly, and fast. I'm at my wits end with those three. Do you ever want to pack up and simply drive away? I do. I don't think I'd be missed until one of two things happened:
1) They ran out of clean underwear, or
2) It became dinner time.

Having said that, I'm on a new quest to find another dress to replace that skinny POS I ordered that was obviously wrong-sized to the extreme. ~grrr~ And then there's entire synopsis thing going on. Referring to my above bytching of my daughters, let's just say that the revamping of my synop was filled with more tears than blood. And as my title bar suggests, the blood wasn't even mine. Too much stuff has been going on this week, especially with my four year old, and with my illnesses really working against me AND her going mental, I've been beyond drugged. Drugged + Synopsis = A novel written on bad crack. Not good for a publishing career, I'm a'thinkin'.

Since I needed a totally rewritten synop for The Sheila, and since the postmark deadline is oh...TODAY...you'd make a lot of money if you placed a bet that I wouldn't get it done on time. So ~maniacal laugh inserted here~ I'm scrapping the idea of The Sheila and heading on to The Molly. Thankfully, one of my dearest email buddies says The Molly is a fabulous contest to enter and I *should* concentrate on that one. And it's a good thing to, because:
1) The deadline isn't until later in the month, and
2) NO SYNOPSIS is required.

Now, to those sweet souls helping me with my synop (Gina, this means you! And Allison, too, although she's the Queen of the Query), not only do I appreciate you putting up with my flakiness this week, but I'm letting you know it's not over. I may not need the synop for the contest, but I DO need a solid synop at SOME point, and given how many times I like to revise, it's best I start on this now. Don't sigh in disappointment..I can feel it all the way to Texas when you two do that!!

And then there's the Kiss of Death. Besides looking like a total freak shoved into a dress that's obviously mis-sized for the banquet, I'm Assistant Coffin Coordinator. As impressive as that sounds, it unfortunately does NOT mean I can shove those that annoy me into coffins. Yes, I know, I share the sounds of dismay from you all. BUT, poor Christine. I'm replacing her, and I've just been a mess lately. Hopefully we'll get together today and I'll figure out my duties and be able to perform them at least half as decently as she did. It's very daunting to come up behind someone that you know did a superb job. But I promise to do my best! And thankfully, I got Misty to hold my trembling hand! (Thanks, doll!)

In other contest news, I'm still waiting to hear back on the Fab Five of Wisc. I SO wish I could attend the conference because one of my all time favs is giving classes, the wonderful and perky Ms. Alicia Rasley. She's so awesome. If you haven't voted for Mentor of the Year (RWA), git yer butt in gear and if you want my opinion, vote for her! (If you don't want my opinion, you shouldn't be reading my blog! ~wink~) But, I don't think I can get there. However, I hope to hear about the finalist on their contests. And The Daphne, although that's not for quite some time, I don't think. (Since I'm on Koffin, I could ask, huh? I'm drugged. Just pat me on the head and say "That's okay, Bren, we understand.") I'm especially excited about The Daphne whether I place or not because the winner will be announced at Nationals during the KOD ceremony where one of my all time favs Jenny Crusie is the co-keynote speaker. In other words, LOTS of stuff going on and as summer draws closer, the more excited I'll get. God help you all that actually read this.

For the times I said to ignore me because I'm drugged, it's always been true. My daily meds would drunken up a stallion. This week, however, has been so horribly wicked that I'm more so than normal, so please excuse any typos in advance. And if you read this entire thing and you're still with me...well... you're either an alien or a masochist. Or, scarier still, a psychiatrist!

EVERYONE HIDE!