Distractions aren’t even a little hard to find

Ho hum.

I always feel at odds when I’m not working on a project.  Book 2 titled Miss Goldsleigh’s Secret has been sent to MY AGENT.  I haven’t heard back from her yet on what she thinks but, in all reality, it’s way too early.  Nevertheless, I fret. What if she doesn’t like it, or what if she doesn’t like it enough. I have to stop thinking about it or it’ll just freak me out more.

I have some great ideas for book 3 in the series and I have a secret project I’m dying to sink my teeth into, but I don’t want to start another year long project until I get some direction from the agent.  For now, I’m working on expanding my pirate novella from 15,300 words to some where in the 20,000 word range.  Well, “working on” is a very loose way to describe what I’m doing to it at this point.  At the moment, I’m rereading my research on pirates and the history of New Providence.  After that, I sit around and get distracted.

Today was the end of summer bonanza at Sassy & The Bandit’s summer camp. Each grade did a song or dance. I want you to picture the following scene: a herd of six year olds, hair slicked back with gel except for Bandit who had the addition of a curl down his forehead. They all lined up on stage and then the music for Grease Lightening came on over the PA system.  They didn’t sing the song, but they did do the dance – and it was hysterical. I video taped it and you can hear me cackling away during the entire thing.  At one point, they all broke out small, black combs and slicked back their hairdos, their hips cocked to the side, all cool.

Sassy’s third grade class danced the “Tootsie Roll”. I have no idea what that dance is, or if they just made it up. I’m not hip like that. I can tell you the kid across the street with the hot rod is having trouble with his 1970 Barracuda because his timing is off and he doesn’t have enough vaccuum to get the power he’s looking for, but I have no idea about the latest dances (or the old dances) at the clubs.  Of course, the kid doesn’t want to hear the old lady’s opinion.  Nor did he take my offer to teach him to drive the thing, although my hand is just itching to get ahold of that shifter.

Regardless, my daughter was beautiful up there.  I swear she was the only one who knew the dance steps, but then my opinion was clouded.

Thanks to this blog post, I have effectively managed to distract myself from writing for at least an hour.

Success.