Just stuff

As I was typing the title up there, I realized that I use that title A LOT. I put it on e-mails, I put it on texts, I think it... That about sums me up sometimes. "What are you thinking?" "Just...stuff" Sounds really profound and interesting, right? So much like the writer I want to be, huh? Geez, I've got such an amazing way with words that it scares me sometimes. LOL

As indicated by my very profound title, this is just about random thoughts I've had over the past few days.

My baby, that angel that just turned (gulp) FIVE, is a MASTER manipulator. I knew it before, but it just seemed really funny this morning. We have this routine, it happens at least once a day. She's the baby, so she seems to get hurt more than any of the others. Whether by design or by accident, she's the one that comes crying to me the most. This morning was no exception. I heard her little wails, and my heart started to crumble. I knew she wasn't seriously hurt, that's a different kind of HOWL, really. Still though, she was in pain. I also knew only one thing would make it better. So when she made her way to me, and crawled up in my lap, and sobbed how the swing had bashed her into a tree and she was huuuurt, I said the only thing I could think of. "Oh, you poor, poor baby. What will make it all better?" And of course, the response I had been expecting... "Iiiice creeeeeam", in such a pitiful little voice that I had to hide a smile. Of course, seeing this, Jo just rolled her eyes. So smiling, I asked Jo, "Oh you poor thing, are you hurt? What will make it all better?" With a huge grin (she catches on quick!) she fake cries "Iiiice creeeeam". By now, they're both laughing. Knowing my work as a Mommy is done for this situation, I just smile and tell them to go raid the freezer. Really, I'm hopeless. But there is something very liberating about telling my kids they cuold have ice cream before lunch. I mean, really! What's the point in making them wait? I *AM* the Mom, aren't I? Trust me, the stretch marks prove it!!

I burned my chin on pizza cheese the other day at CiCi's Pizza, and I laughed about it. I'm blaming Jenny Crusie for that. I couldn't help it. All I could say to Gret was "I'm livin the dream, baby!" I think Gret is convinced I've lost my mind. Maybe she's not far off.

I've been hearing those voices again at the most inoportune times. Does that happen to any of you real writers? I mean, there is a story in there that is just SCREAMING to come out. I hear this chick in my head, telling me to WRITE THIS DOWN. Ususally, I follow those instructions and head directly to my computer to exorcise that voice. However, there are times when it's just not convenient to get to my keyboard. Like last night. In bed. With Shane. Yep, she started up right between the first kiss and the second, and all I could do was half disengage my brain to try to enjoy some quiet time with my amazing man. I felt like Tildy, another of Crusie's characters. Luckily, he was awesome, and knew just what to do to get me out of my head, thankyouverymuch. However, as he drifted off to sleep, I heard her banging away up in my head again. I listened this time. Guess what??

Lorraine had a great blog yesterday. I told her so in her comments. Then she e-mailed me and asked me what was so great. And this fits in very nicely with this crazy lady in my head begging me to tell her story. I read SO MUCH. I mean, really, it's pretty bad. I see what's out there, and I buy a lot. When I decided to write, I was a bit concerned that my story wouldn't work. Ok, I was freakin terrified. So I made some adjustments. I mean, it wasn't chick-lit (oh, I really hate that term!), it wasn't really a romance, it wasn't suspense. But I had to make it SOMETHING, or nobody would ever read it. So I changed it. A lot. Well, last night, with Lorraine's blog rolling through my head, and that crazy chick still banging me right behind the eyes, I scrapped all of the changes. I just tossed them right out of my head. And I curled up next to Shane and slept like a baby.

The thing that sucks is that now I'm starting over. Not from scratch though. The main story is the same, but I'm not going to try to make it something that it isn't. See, I can't write like Sophie Kinsella. She's amazing, and witty, and her characters make me laugh and cry. I would LOVE to write like her, but it's just not me. And I can NOT write like Jenny Crusie. She's hysterical, and bright, and her women are snarky and honest, and warm. But there is no way that I can do that. It was really sad for me to realize that, since I would really like to write like either one of them. But it's just not gonna happen. Sounds kinda sad, huh?

Nah, not at all. See, I've discovered that I have my very own voice. It's nothing like Kinsella, nor is it like Crusie. It's not like anyone else. And you know what? I'm ok with that. No, you'll never read something as fabulous as "Undomestic Goddess" with my name at the bottom. You'll never find me on the cover of something as wonderful as "Welcome to Temptation". But one day, when you're browsing your local book store, you will see my name on one of those covers. You will. You'll pick that book up, flip it over, read the back, and think "Yeah, ok. Not a Crusie, but maybe it'll be good enough for the bathtub". And you'll try it. You may even like it. (I REALLY REALLY hope you'll like it!) And maybe you'll even pass it on to one of your pals. She'll probably hate it, but that's ok. Not everyone loves Crusie either (but those people are really just stupid, so maybe that's not saying much!).

Anyhow, you know me, so you know that last part is because I'm a DREAMER, right?
Then again, dreams can come true. It's true, Just ask Emile. She ate ice cream at 9am today.