salon :: :: people :: feature :: Rejection made easy, By Stephen J. Lyons :: Page 1 Am going through and cleaning out emails at the office. Someone had forwarded this link to me, and I'd saved it. Quite the hoot!
 

Two fabulous things today: I gave notice at the day job ... going to be writing full time and the folks at the office are very excited for me! And we got an offer on our house! Also came up with a title for the Game book: The Givenchy Code. I love it! Hopefully The Powers That Be will too!
 

Going to a movie tomorrow. An actual, real, in-the-theater movie! Whoo hoo! (This is a rare event these days.) C's going to hang out w/ Grandma and Nana (my mom's best friend and at the top of C's favorite people list) at the new house while D and head off to see Man on Fire. If you've seen it ... hush. I want no spoilers!

In other news, C has suffered from potty training reversion. Sigh. It's my own fault, bragging to everyone about how it only took a weekend. But since I'm guessing you really don't want to know the details, 'nuff said.

(sigh)
 

Downtown Press Book Teaser Page Okay, check it out! The fabulous Dreamforge folks designed a cool little flash movie for me to promote my upcoming book from Downtown Press (July 2005, no title yet ...). Ain't it cool? And, no, it's not the cure to PMS, but there is a chain of thought there. See, I'd been all mopey and tired (doing too much and not sleeping will do that, according to my mom). I'd sent my editor the first 150 pp of the book just to get her feedback, and she promptly went on vacation. Sigh. Enter MORE moodiness, which I'm happy to blame on PMS. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. And then, low and behold, Fabulous Editor calls and says she loves the pages! No major changes, all is well with the world. Suddenly the birds are singing and it's springtime again. (Yes, this is the lot of a writer. Mood swings tied to editorial approval. Time for another sigh ...). But, hey, whatever works. And it's less fattening than milkshakes ...
 

I think I may be the only person on the planet who didn't watch the series finale of Friends. Shhhhh. Don't tell....

(Loved the show, actually, just got out of the habit of watching it. And tonight's CSI just looked so intriguing ...)
 

And now off to bed! (fingers crossed for a much earlier night tomorrow!)
 

I love being a mom. Truly I do. More than, well, pretty much anything.

That was the caveat. Here's the blog: It's 9 p.m. (literally; the clock just changed) and I'm JUST NOW sitting down to write. When, when, when did my darling little precious angel daughter (and how) move her bedtime from 7:30 to 8:45????????

Sigh.

At about 7:30, C was running around like a wild thing. American Idol (aka "The Singing People") started, and since that's her favorite show (the kid's gonna be a dancer, I swear) we let her watch. Accordingly, I blame the demise of bedtime on Simon C. (Why not? He seems capable of shouldering more blame.) At 8, C informs me that she wants a better look at her Blues Clues panties and strips down to her undies. Then she strips ALL the way down (except for socks) and starts racing through the house yelling "naked baby! naked baby!" When D points out that she's wearing her socks, she takes them off, effectively remedying that little problem.

This lasts for a good 30 minutes, w/ me running after her trying to cajole her into a pair of pullups. Finally, I convince her that it would be great fun to put her legs in the pullups and then jump. This works wonders.

Fast forward a bit. We're dressed. We read the 3 night books (chosen by C for the evening) and the 2 routine bedtime books (How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight, and Goodnight Sleep Tight Little Bunnies -- for some reason, C was fascinated w/ the author's name on this one, so she always says it's GSTLB "by Dawn Apperly". I once tried to find DA on line to tell her she had a 2 year old fan. No luck.) Then we start in w/ the routine of getting into bed (this is more complicated than it sounds, and D is sick tonight and already asleep). And ... YAY! It's done! And then ....

"Momma, I gotta potty."

Sigh.

I am tempted to say "that's why you're wearing a pullup" but I don't. I lavish much praise and get her up and we go off to the potty where she does in fact do the deed. Then says she isn't finished and proceeds to play w/ the shower curtain until I make enough stern mommy noises that she decides maybe it's time to wash her hands.

fast forward again and we're back in bed. "Mommy, I gotta go potty."

Nope. This time not buying it. "Is that just so you can get out of bed and play?"

"Yeah, momma."

Little rascal.

Tuck in. Prayers. Night night.

And now, through the monitor, she's still shuffling around, singing to herself, arranging her buddies...and it's now 9:11 and I'm just now firing up the laptop. Ten pages tonight. I MUST do ten pages.

Here's hoping they come easy!
 

The Village Voice: Features: The Essay: Signature Collection by Lawrence Block Great article here. Read down to the post-script about James Ellroy.