Hey – go check out www.amylynnbright.com – my personal website.  It underwent a makeover and I think it looks fantastic.

I down in the dumps today.  The agent said out of the eight editors who have my book, there have been four passes.  Deep sigh. 

“Ugh!  Does this happen often?  The ‘passes’ I mean?” I asked her.

“Yes, unfortunately more often than not…” she replied.  “We often get down to 1 editor who loves it to close a deal….but we only need 1!!”

She’s right, of course.  But that news compounded with the dreary, rainy dayand my soul-sucking day job has made me blue, kind of Eeyoreish.  I’m usually a glass is half-full kind of person but it’s hard to keep that up all the time.

I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow.  After all tomorrow is Friday and Saturday is the big raffle meeting for my writer’s group and all the Sisters will be together.  After the meeting, I’m going up the mountain with some of the writer ladies for an over-night at a cabin – a little mini-retreat and I’m looking forward to that as well.

Deep sigh.  Everything will work out in the end.  I’m sure.

My mother says I have perfectionismmania.  It’s a word she made up to define what’s wrong with us.  Or rather, to define one of the things wrong with us.

Ava and Kelli have been looking at me askance for weeks, shaking their heads and giving each other looks.  My mother keeps encouraging me to step away, but I can’t.  Ava keeps saying things like “crazy” and “what’s wrong with you?”  Kelli assures me that no one but me will notice or care. 

But the problem is, I will.  I’ll notice.  I care.  And I can’t step away. 

Do you remember those damn baskets I’m making for the big fundraiser my writers group?  I really hate those baskets, which is confusing because I’m also really proud of them.

There are a few missing things that are totally nagging at me.  I hear them in my head – it’s very loud in my head.  I’ve got whole committees meeting up there: the characters of my current project nagging at me, the characters of the last book nagging at me, my hopes and aspirations which are all attached to MY AGENT, Bills that need to be paid (these are extraordinarily obnoxious), and most plaguing of all, the stupid projects I take on and then become obsessed with making perfect.

There are only a few things I can’t find for these damn baskets.  The main one being a parasol for the lady’s one.  One of those pretty, paper ones you see all the time.  I know after this is over I’ll spot a hundred of them, but for now, they may as well not exist.  I’ve been everywhere I can think of. 

I know it’s stupid.  As Kelli says, no one will notice but me.  But I’LL KNOW.  I’ll know how much better it could have been.  Why can’t I let it go?  ARRRRG!

I can’t write on this anymore.  I have to go finish sewing lace on that &^%$@%& basket.

Send help.

One of my favorite things of all time is to come home from work and find a package from a book store waiting for me.  It’s like a little version of Christmas right at your front door. 

Tonight there were two books – both reference books, both remarkably engaging.

The Country House, How it Worked by John Vince

Anyone who reads historicals, especially Regency, knows that the characters are always running off to the country house.  Well, any question you ever had about them is answered in this book with detailed pencil drawings.

The Complete Servant by Samuel & Sarah Adams

Parts of this book were originally published in 1759 & 1783.  There can be no book more comprehensive when it comes to the role of a servant.  The authors were 50 years in service ending their careers as the Housekeeper and Butler.  There are even recipes for both food and cleaning supplies, directions on cleaning gloves without water, and directions for contemporary child care.  Absolutely fascinating.

Ooooooh, I wish I had a month off work so I could just sit and read from cover to cover.

In my dreary day to day life I do mortgages.  I know – not romantic, not exciting, not creative in any way.  Why do you think I keep telling you it’s sucking my soul dry?

Anyway, I was screwing around on the internet at work the other day while on hold – I spend a lot of time on hold – I found these.

Open House at Pooh Corner

by Zach Ayers

100 Aker Wood – 2-story trad Victorian on talking-animal preserve. Guest house in hollow tree (no perm). 24hr p-p-piglet on prem.

– – –

123 Sesame St. – 1 BD/1BA Eng bsmt. Lifestyle frndly. Pets, bbrds, grchs, snfflpgss, lmos OK w/deposit. Sunny nbrhood. Sweet air. Cloud sweeper avail.

– – –

Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood – 0BD/0BA craftsman. Adj to Land of MkBlv trolley. Ample closet space. Model home. Free tote bag w/lease.

“Discovering new places can sometimes be unnerving.”

There is a minor crisis going on at Amylynn Central.  I came in here to write at 11:00.  PM.  I know – that’s my thing.  I’ll regret it tomorrow morning.  Nevertheless, I came into the office to write at 11PM. 

I started to get everything ready.  I turned on the TV to find the required action movie or, if that wasn’t happening, an old comedy.  Maybe I’d luck out and Caddyshack would be on.  I’m feeling in the mood for Caddyshack – a little Bill Murray a little Ty Webb – all would be right with the world.  Hmmmm. Cable’s not coming on.  I just turned it off in the living room so the Cable’s not out.  Turn it off.  Turn it on.  Nope, just a taunting blue screen of aggression winking out at me.  Turn it off.  Turn it on.  What did My Honey do to this?  Damn it.  I saw him watching TV in here this evening.  Obviously he’s done something screwy to it.  I’m gonna go ask him.  No, wait.  It’s 11:03, he’s sure to be asleep already and how selfish would that be if I wake him up just to demand he come fix the television.  Turn it off.  Turn it on.  My entire repertoire of electronics skills have been fully demonstrated.  Maybe the TV is on the wrong station.  I expand my skills by turning the channel up and turning the channel down.  WAIT! There’s a picture.  But it looks wrong.  Something is very wrong.  I could call Cox and maybe a tech could walk me through fixing this.  Or the moron who answers the phone at Cox could just really piss me off and then I’d be even more mad with no TV.  I know The Count of Monte Cristo is on channel 194 – just turn that on and stop messing with it.  Not exactly what I want, but I know the story very well so I don’t have to concentrate on it.  Dumas, although very long winded,  is a favorite of mine.  I’ve read The Count, The Three Musketeers, and the story Man in the Iron Mask…excellent action stories all.

Alright.  TV crisis is averted.  I go to the desk and turn on the computer.  I open the QuillSisters.com to see if there are any comments I need to approve or, more likely, move to the spam folder.  I even begin writing this blog.  I get three lines in before…

Good Lord, this desk is a mess.  So now I must clean the desk.  I’ve worked

No, it wasn't THIS bad!

 at the desk like this for at least a week without being compelled to straighten it, but tonight I can’t help myself.  I dust and reorganize the desk top.  I studiously ignore the floor.  Sweeping will have to wait for another day.

So now I’m to this point in this blog post and I notice my bulletin board is really full.  I’ll bet 50% of that stuff can be thrown away.  Hmmmmmm. 

Alright.  It wasn’t 50% maybe 15%, but it’s much neater now.

Oh for crying out loud.  Now it’s 12:02 and I haven’t written a damn thing.

Deep sigh.

Some news, an update, and some silliness…

I survived the camping trip – but just.  There was a typhoon on Saturday afternoon that lasted almost an hour.  The rain was torrential.  I’m pretty sure I saw a cow float past at one point.  And they say the monsoon is over.  I guess, but the rain would belie that.

Kelli helped me the other day with the plot for Dalton and Olivia’s book.  One of the things I learned from Francesca and Thomas was that a book really requires a plot.  You may laugh, but it seems that I have no problem whatsoever with sitting down and writing 80,000 words that never go anywhere.  That is all well and good for geniuses like Anne Tyler, but not so much for me. 

Kelli is a whiz at mapping out the plot – such a weakness of mine, and I am grateful that she will sit with me for several hours with a piece of poster board and different colored post-its and help me put it together.   Now that I have a map, I can easily write to each destination.

One quick little note about The Bandit.  Since he started kindergarten at Sassy’s school this year, and the school requires uniforms, I’d saved some of Sassy’s unisex outfits for him to wear – things like pants and polo shirts.  There was one particular pair of pants that look perfectly unisex except for a band of fabric inside the waistband.  Now, I figured these wouldn’t be much of a problem since no one would ever see the waistband of his pants.  The other morning, it was a little chilly and rain had been forecasted so I brought out pants for him instead of shorts.  Those pants.

“I can’t wear those, Mom.  They’re girl pants,” he protested.

I held the khaki pants up for inspection.  “They don’t look like girl pants,” I said. 

“Well, they are.”  His face looked particularly mutinous.

I tried to look perplexed even though I already knew the answer before I asked the question.  “How can you tell?”

“There’s pink in there!”  He pointed with his little, indignant finger at the pink polka dotted waistband.

“Oh that?” I scoffed.  “That’s not for girls.  That’s the tickleband.”  I tried desperately to keep a straight face.

He stopped frowning and his face expressed burgeoning interest.  “What’s a tickleband?”

“Well, it’s really cool,” I told him while I stealthfully slid his legs into the pants and pulled up the zipper.  “Every time you go to the bathroom, or even think about your pants, the tickleband will give you a little tickle around your middle.”  I demonstrated exactly how this would work.

Now, the only problem is, he only wants to wear clothes with a tickleband.  Where does one pick up yards of pink polka dotted fabric on the cheap?

My Honey took my kids camping.  They don’t have school tomorrow so they left after school today.  There is a huge group of family from both sides converging on a lake about an hour outside of town.

I couldn’t get Friday off, so I’ll drive up after work tomorrow and wander aimlessly through a camp ground for what will seem like hours trying to find them in the dark.  Can you hear my enthusiasm from way over there?

I know I have expressed my opinion of camping on these pages before.  It’s not a high opinion.  Unfortunately, I married in to a camping family and my father and brother are a little over zealous about it as well.  The only other sane one in my family is my mother who also detests camping.

There is just so much to revile about the whole process: the dirt, the bugs, the sun, the bugs, the dirt.

That and I can feel how annoyed everyone else is when all I want to do all day is sit in the shade and read as opposed to fishing (ick) or boating (ugh) or some other equally wretched outdoor activity.

BUT my husband loves it so and he’s brainwashed the children into loving it and since I love them, I will drag my city girl butt out to the wilderness and pick dirt out of my food and swat insects and ride in a boat.  I draw the line at fishing.  That’s not going to happen – no matter how much I love them.

You can rest assured I will have books with me since I can’t bring the lap top to work on Dalton & Olivia.  Saint Edward is still performing surgery on the lap top.  It’s a pretty grim diagnosis but I’m keeping my crossables crossed.

Anyway – my original intent of this post was to talk about my night of family freedom.  All day, I considered what I’d do with myself.  Should I go to a movie?  Take myself out to dinner?  Shoe Shopping?

As soon as I got off work, I headed to a book store.  Pretty typical of me.  I bought 6 books.  Yikes.  The pile of “To Be Read” is so tall it’s teetering.  I went with a list of other romance authors my agent represents and, to my delight, I found quite a few.  Also, an entire series from one of my favorite writers I hadn’t gotten to yet.

Then I came home and ate blueberry waffles for dinner.  Isn’t that wonderful and decadent?  My how my definition of decadent has changed since Sassy and the Bandit came along.  I didn’t worry about vegetables or protein or any of that healthy nonsense.

And then I fell asleep on the couch waiting for Project Runway to come on.  My favorite designer is going to make it to the finale – I’m just sure of it.

I’m going to go to bed here in a minute and watch TIVO’d episodes of Glee.

Ahhhhhhhhh.  Bliss.

I am writing this from Cloud 9.  Ava came to work today with a thumb drive and a DVD disc from Saint Edward.  All day I longed to go home and see what was on it.  I would open my desk drawer and peer down into the darkness of my purse where I could see the edge of the white envelope that held what promised to be eight missing chapters of Dalton & Olivia’s book.  I would sigh and close the drawer, knowing I had hours and hours before I could see what was on the disc in truth.

Even when I got home, there was kindergarten and 2nd grade homework to do and dinner to make (it was the tried and true spaghetti – I’m so predictable when it comes to my turn to cook).  Then there were baths and stories to be read and snuggling to do.

Finally, I got to the office, plugged in the drive, and opened it up to find not only the 8 missing chapters, but so, so much more.  I had forgotten, or refused to ponder, just how much I had lost.

I tend to do a bunch of research before the writing begins.  It makes me feel

A period kitchen

 inside the story.  By research, I mean, photos of period clothes, people, household items, houses, carriages – you name it.  Additionally, with this story, I had taken the advice of one of the guest speakers at our local RWA meeting and did an entire psychologial profile on each of the main characters: Henry Cavendish, Marquess of Dalton, the Honorable Olivia Goldsleigh, and the wretched Reginald Foreman (our villian). 

For goodness sake, I’d even designed a family crest for Dalton.

I was obviously upset at the missing chapters and for good reason, but when I saw how much more I’d not even considered when I was tallying up the casualties…UGH!

So again, thank you Edward.  You are really the best.

xoxoxo

-A