Last night Elliot found his fur-ever family. He even has a little doggie brother to play with.
We packed up his toys and his food bowl, gave him some hugs and kisses for his journey and waved goodbye. Then as I watched them drive away Elliot's little face popped up in the car window and I saw a big smile. I think he'll be happy. His new mama was very dog-oriented and I could see she really loved her other dog.
Sometimes I think dogs know when good things are happening. Elliot loves car rides so he jumped right in and ran from window to window, but I didn't see him hesitate at all. Other dogs that have come through here always hesitated at the door like they didn't want to go. They'd pull back and look at me as if to say, "What are you doing? Don't let them take me!"
But not Elliot. He's a dog always ready for adventure and he bounced right out the door. It wasn't until I saw his little face in the car window that I teared up.
As much as it hurts to let go....we'll do it again because until there are none...we foster one.
Happy Mother's Day

Elliot's looking...

This is Elliot. He's five and looking for a new home.
This weekend he'll be at the Blue Claws Stadium in Lakewood looking all cute and handsome for his new family.
Could this be you?
www.castle-of-dreams.com

Grammar Check...

SOMETIMES THINGS JUST DON'T GO RIGHT....
It pays to watch your use of language. Since Tuesday was my 66th, this hit home.

On his 66th birthday, a man received a gift certificate from his wife. The certificate paid for a visit to a medicine man living on a nearby reservation who was rumored to have a wonderful cure for Er**tile Dysfunction. After being persuaded, he drove to the reservation, handed his ticket to the Medicine Man and wondered
what would happen next.
The old man slowly, methodically produced a potion, handed it to him, and with a grip
on his shoulder, warned, "This is powerful medicine and it must be respected. You take only
a teaspoonful and then say
'1-2-3.
"When you do that, you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life, and you can perform as long as
you want."
The husband was
encouraged.

As he walked away, he turned to the old Medicine Man and asked, "How do I stop the medicine
from working?"
"Your partner must say '1-2-3-4,' he responded. "But when she does, the medicine will not
work again until the next
full moon."

The husband was very eager to see if it worked, so he went home, showered, shaved, took a
spoonful of the medicine, and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom.
When she came in, he took off his clothes and said, "1-2-3!" Immediately, he was the manliest of men.
His wife was so excited that she began preparing herself for the reception, and then she asked, "What was the 1-2-3 for?"
And that, boys and girls, is
why we should never end our sentences with a
preposition! One could end up with a ''dangling pariciple.''

Life Theories

It's Saturday morning and for some reason I'm thinking about the world. I was reading Erica Orloff's blog about not being able to find a non-white doll in Walmart. Okay, the post was about a lot more than that but that's what triggered this train of thought. Incomprehensible how the mind works sometimes.
So that brings me to my theory on world peace.
Most of the bad feelings that initiate hate crimes, wars and other attacks on people or countries come from one side thinking the other side is wrong or different for some reason.
I believe world peace will come when all of the nationalities and races of the world are totally mixed.
A person who is half white and half black wouldn't hate either of those races. Now what if the person was black, Hispanic and Caucasian? Would they feel animosity towards any one in those groups?
I think when the world is truly mixed then we will find peace.
And that's my thoughts for today...

The Last Five Years....

Five years is a long time. In some ways it can be a life time. And in Elliot's case it was...his lifetime.
He was adopted as a puppy and spent five years with a family. Then one day the family woke up and decided they had no time for him and sent this eight pound little fluff ball out into the world to find his own way.
So, he was taken into rescue and that's how Elliot ended up at my house. He's only been here a few hours, but so far he seems to be house trained, likes Halston and thinks the cat needs to be chased. But that's okay, we're explaining Gizzmo's right to pursue happiness and not to be pursued by dogs.
Right now he's pacing back and forth between rooms. A lot of the foster dogs that come through here do that. It's as if they're looking for their family and for those familiar things that used to be home. When we had Frieda the Basset Hound she would pace and whine for hours. I'd offer her food, water, a walk, but she wouldn't want anything but to pace and cry.
It breaks my heart but all we can give them is space and time.
After a day or so the dogs usually come around and start looking for some affection. A little rub behind the ears or a warm place to lay down near you.
It's kind of hard to watch them go through this process and then know that they're going to have to do it again when they go to their for-ever family. When Frieda went to her for-ever family she had some adjustment issues, but she's doing better now. She's starting to trust and her little personality is coming out more and more every day.
And now it's Elliot's turn to find a for-ever. Please wish him luck!


Five years....

When to hop heads...tell me how you do it???

Since my writing has been lagging lately I've been reading a lot. Right now I'm reading Under the Dome by Stephen King, Sins of the Flesh by Caridad Pinero (interesting romance about genetic testing) and something by Jennifer Cruise about a basset hound. (someone who knew we were hosting Frieda the Basset gave me that book the other day.)
So since I was once called a head hopper by a wonderful editor I've been worrying about this issue a lot. Some writers do this so smoothly you don't even feel it. The shift of POV is barely felt by the reader. Then there's others that I can see it clearly but for some reason it seems to work. Then there are writers who hop heads so often I have to back up and say...where was I?
So my question is how do you change POV's in a story? Do you have any rules on how you hop heads? Have you ever written a book totally in one POV?
Help!
I'm obsessing and I can't stop!

Write on...

One of the most popular pieces of advice that writer's get is to write everyday. Something I haven't been doing. Something I've felt that I can't do.
Usually when I have ...gulp!...writer's block I just keep writing stories. Some bad, some terrible, occasionally a diamond in the rough surfaces, but I could always keep writing.
Now?
eh

I've even failed my blogs. It's like I've crawled into a dark hole with no desire to come out.
I spend my time trying to fix everything around me. Even things I have no control over. Maybe it's the Virgo in me. Maybe it's a place to hide.
So now I'm ready to write every day again. It's going to be hard. I'm not sure there's anything in my head to write about.
Ideas used to be easy. I always believed ideas were everywhere. Wherever you go there's something there to build a story on.
Grocery store? Hmmm, see the lady in the black coat? What if she has a gun in her pocket? What is she going to do with it? And what would bring her to the grocery store before going on a mission to kill?
Doctor's office? ...What if that person sitting across from you in the waiting room is being poisoned? Who's trying to get rid of her and why? Will the doc figure it out and then be a target also?
Walking the dog? ...As you walk through the wooded area next to your house your dog goes crazy barking at a clump of bushes and flushes out a creature you've never seen before. Do you take it home and make it a pet? Do you discover a new species? Or is it not of this world?
Work? ...If the next person who walks through that door brings a check for 10 million dollars and you've suddenly won the big lottery how does your life change? Who becomes your friend? Who becomes an enemy?
Ideas flow...
Wait! I think I'm starting to get the spark back...

Mud Dogs

Had a bit of an issue this morning. I went to call the dogs in and Frieda (the basset hound) was missing. After searching the whole house and yard I couldn't find her and started to worry. She's my foster dog and I couldn't lose her!
Then I'm standing out on the back deck I hear crying coming from under it
so I go to the spot near the middle stairs where the dogs had been digging and call her. She cries louder and starts to howl. Our deck is very low to the ground and my husband nailed lattice to all the sides to keep the dogs from going under it.
I get down off the deck, high heels sinking in the mud and peer into the hole. All I can see is her nose.
She's behind the other big piece of wood and can't get out.
I walk all around the deck trying to call her out. Not an easy feat in high heels and mud… it's been raining in New Jersey for like---ever! Our backyard is a swamp and I'm dressed for work trying hard not to mess up my good clothes.
Finally I got a hammer and had to remove part of the lattice to get her out.
However after I got the lattice off Halston tried to go in (no way is the hole big enough for her so she just kind of laid in the mud with her head under there harrassing Frieda who was howling again. I finally get Halston out and Frieda crawls out covered in mud.


So How did your day start?

It means Freedom

This little girl came up from North Carolina a few weeks ago. She went straight to a forever home. Unfortunately, she didn't get along with the two year old in the house and now she's here.
Frieda (I'm told her name means Freedom in German) is about 3 years old and very nervous. She was dumped in a shelter heart worm positive. They treated the heart worm and now she is doing good. A very sweet dog who needs a calm family. Maybe with older children. I've only had her a few hours now so I don't know anything else about her yet. She's trying to be the alpha dog here and Halston isn't allowing it. We've had a few skirmishes. Nothing big but I'm definitely going to have to crate her when I go to work. I absolutely hate to do it but until I know she's going to get along with Halston and Gizmo it's for the best.
Adopt don't shop.

Shelf life...

Since I haven't been writing much lately - which I attribute to stress - I've been bringing some of my dinosaurs down off the shelf. These are dino's I love, poured my heart into and bled on.
And now I can see they need more blood. It's time to tap a vein for them.
This led me to see how valuable that shelf time is. If I hadn't let this go and stuck it in that dark corner of my office I don't think I'd see what I see now.

One is a story I love and I basically tried tried to write from two heads. The heroine and the hero. And now, rereading it, I can see the error of my ways. I think this would definitely be better from the hero's head since it's really not a romance. (Although we do have a sexual interlude.) I can see hero being the driving force in what happens here, but there are times when we have to see the heroine's point of view because she's the only one in the room. So do I write as the omni presence in the room or do I go into her head?
Dilemma.
Help!
Any advice?
Do you shelve it for awhile before going back for the final draft? Does it help?

Waiting for her new life to begin...

This is Sally. She's a one and a half year old Feist mix. I think she might have some chihuahua in her too. She's about 10 lbs and pretty solid. She came up from North Carolina shelter yesterday with her five puppies in a truck that had about 50 big barking dogs. The truck stops at a designated meeting place and all the rescue groups show up to claim the dogs they agreed to take. For a little dog this can be a very scary situation. Sally was absolutely terrified. Even now her tail is tucked between her legs and she stays right by my side. At first she growled at Halston but now seems to accept that Halston is just a big goof who only wants food and attention. She spent most of the afternoon exploring the house and back yard then jumped up on the couch with me to nap. She slept for about two hours. I think she was exhausted.
The puppies were 10 weeks old and have gone to different foster families. Sally is staying with us until her forever family shows up.

Bad books, Good plot

I'm reading a book by a very popular author. Same one who's audio book I finished last month and I have the same issues.
Head hopping. I've counted up to four heads on the same page and it's driving me crazy. But I keep reading because the plot is good. Sometimes it's hard to concentrate. I'll be reading along and then suddenly it's like hitting a pot hole...bam! Where am I? Wasn't I just in Claire's brain? Why am I remember things his sister said when they were four and Claire wasn't even a thought then? Okay, back track...yes, I was reading in her head and flip! now I'm in his.
And through all this I still want to know what happens next.
Good writer? Bad writer?
Now I want to go back and find the first book this author ever wrote to see if she was actually published with this rhythm or was it something now overlooked because she is more popular then Obama.
I write, I study writing, I read about writing so now I'm wondering if someone who really doesn't know that much about writing dynamics would pick up on this stuff.
What happens when good writers go bad?

Failure is not an Option...

I was wandering around over at Mark Terry's blog where he said something about NASA and that their code is "Failure is not an Option".
The post was mostly about Stephen Parrish and his new book The Tavernier Stones. (Quick! Everyone needs to order a copy right now!) and how he helped nudge Stephen to the place he needed to be to find success.
This toggled me over to Stephen's blog and how he got published. He's done more rewrites then I ever thought possible. But more than that...he never gave up.
Failure was not an option.
It was the push I needed.
It's time to get back on the horse and if I can't find the old horse. Maybe I'll just have to write me a new one. I think I'm going to take back my 20 minute rule (every time I have 20 minutes I write--something) and just write. Good or bad I'm just going to write.
I think when real life throws us curves it's easy to forget our motivation and what moves us forward toward our own successes. Imagine if Stephen Parrish had given up at one of his many rewrites?
I think sometimes we need to remember that Failure is not an option we're going to accept.
The dream you hold could change the world.

Why I can't write...

So I've been struggling with not being able to write for a couple of months now. This situation is new to me. I've been writing since I was...maybe 5 or 6? When I first discovered the joy of putting pen to paper all I wanted to do was write down stories. Things would come into my head and I'd just start putting them down. I remember when I was 8 or 9 my mom asked me what I wanted for Christmas I answered a pen and a new pad of paper. She laughed and said, "No, really, what do you want?"
But I spoke the truth. It was my idea of a perfect gift. Give me something to tell my stories with and I'll be in heaven.
So you get why this idea of not writing is like someone put the brakes on my soul. It's in there, I know it, I can still feel it but there's something blocking it, keeping it inside. Like a trapped tiger I can feel it pacing, frustration growing as it looks for an opening.
So not being able to write has led me to searching for why I'm not writing. I'm analyzing my world, my life and my relationships.
First: My daughter moved to Florida for school. She needs a job and has been looking for months. I'm worried. I know she's a smart girl, educated (BS in psychology), and a hard worker. She made the Dean's list last semester, Yay! There's no reason she can't find a job. The economy sucks, thousands upon thousands are unemployed. I have hope that the economy will turn around. There's a job for her, it will come and I try not to worry. But hey! I'm a mom, it's my vocation.
Second: I had shoulder surgery three years ago. I still have a lot of pain and some days its worse...really worse. So I'm thinking I have to go back to the orthopedist and I'm scared he's going to say surgery again. The first round was blindingly painful and I fear doing it again. So I've put off calling the orthopedist. Call me a coward, I am.
Third: I'm not in love with my job. It's easy and boring. I'd rather be challenged. The people I work with are really nice and I'd hate to leave them but...the boredom is...crushing.
Fourth: Saturn is still in Virgo and transiting my first house. The first house represents energy, vitality and deepest desires. It's also linked to your state of health. Hmmmm, I think we're on to something here...
Saturn is the planet that challenges us, makes up step up and be counted. Some fear this planet because it twists your reality around and throws curve balls. It's been in Virgo for the last ...three years, I think?

Is any of this the reason I can't write? Who knows. I still get ideas. Things pop into my head and I blurt them down onto my hard drive but can't get it to go any further.
Writer's block...I always thought it was a myth. Now I'm not so sure.
How do you deal with writer's block?

Sometimes I just can't write. This is something new. I've never not been able to write. In fact writing has been my safe harbor. Its the place I go to get away from everything else. But now...
It looks like we'll be snowed in this weekend. They are calling it a Snow-i-cane. A blizzard with hurricane like winds. Right now I'm at work watching the big flakes of snow cover my car outside my window. Some of the cars have their windshield wipers pulled out like bug antenna. I think they do this to keep them from freezing to the window. I've never done it. I'm New Jersey born and bread and fear someone will come along and snap it off. Not that this is a bad area but I imagine these things with such clarity that I can see them happening.
Love many, trust few...always paddle your own canoe. Words to live by.

So I pulled out an old manuscript from a few years ago and I've been going through it and scraping off the goo. You know that hazy combination of words that really take your story nowhere? Its a major clean up. As I look at these pages I wonder how I ever thought this stuff was ready for an agent? A good reason to step back and let a story peculate.
I think my writing group thinks I'm crazy. I bring different pieces of different stories every week. Sometime I just don't need/want feedback yet. I know it's not ...right...so I need to fix that before i show it to others. And there's always another story laying around I'm dabbling with that could use a tweak. That's what I bring. My secondary story. Like a secondary plot in a book, it's there but it isn't the main piece of work right now.
So tell me, how do you keep the juices flowing?
This is Rusty. We fostered him for about a week. He's a very loving and smart dog and I know he'll be a great addition to his fur-ever family. And I miss him.

Got no flow....

Most times writing is the easiest thing I do. When I need to escape or have something to say it just flows out of my fingertips without a moments hesitation.
But The Blue Diamond is a struggle. I have to wonder if this is because its like an assignment. Or maybe a cross between an assignment and a challenge.
I'm writing it from an announcement by The Wild Rose Press that asks people to write something for their new Jewels of the Night line. I figured I was such a slacker lately that I needed a challenge.
Things like this usually excite me. Make me step up and just get it done, but somehow I'm just not finding the flow.
Is it the depression that seems to shadow me these days? The disappointment I feel with my day job? Inability to find a publisher for my last work?
Who knows.
My birds are leaving the nest. My best friends are taking off and finding their own lives, their own space in time and it's taking my soul.
Usually I embrace change.
I love new and different things whether it's moving to a new place, changing around a room, or changing jobs. I'm usually a try-new-things, jump-straight-in kind of person.
So why am I floundering now? I knew this was coming, worked hard to make them as prepared as possible and I'm happy to say they have turned out to be very capable, mature, intelligent young women. I'm so proud of them.
So why can't I find my place in the world now? I always knew where it was before, every change made me happy. Why can't I embrace this?
Can I coin the teen phrase, "Whatever"?
I'm making myself push through the Diamond, blurting it all down on the hard drive and hoping for the best. It's an effort to finish and an effort to get my flow back.
Hopefully, that's one thing I can get back.

Foster dog....

Her name is Carmel but we've been calling her Peanut because she looks like one. This morning I received an email saying someone is interested in adopting her.
We receive this with mixed feelings. Although she's only been with us for 5 days she's fitting in real well.
She's loving and sweet and afraid of everything. This little scaredy cat is always ready for play and does laps around the house at top speed. She like a little furry bullet streaking through the rooms.
Today our dog, Halston actually started playing with her. Now Halston turns 14 in the spring so she doesn't play as much as she used to but it was good to see her giving chase to the little peanut.
I have to call the potential adopter tonight to set up a time to meet. Probably Sunday. My daughter is heartbroken. She fell in love with the little fuzzball and wanted to keep her. :(
Its hard to remember that this is the right thing to do. We can't keep every dog but we can help them find good homes. This home has one of Peanut's litter mates and the mom is a stay at home mom. In our house we work all day so the little girl is crated at this point (till she learns her toilet manners and stops chewing on every thing in site). She's going to a good home, we have to remember that.
The other foster mom's tell me that letting go of the first dog is always the hardest. She promises it will get easier...

Fame and writing rules

Once upon a time a very nice editor told me that I was a head-hopper. Although it sucks to hear something like that after she requested a full it was probably the nicest thing she could have done. Now I keep a sharp eye out for that head-hopping stuff. It's so easy to fall into another character's head when he's not looking. After all, I know what he's thinking...why shouldn't everyone else?
But that's not good writing, is it? I think it was like a major deal breaker on the road to publication.
Enter Famous writer...
I have a 40 minute ride to work and listen to books on tape/CD. Right now I'm listening to a book on tape by a very famous romance novelist. She's a household name. Even if you never read romance or wouldn't even consider one of her books..you know her. She's top of the heap in her genre.
This book is a major head-hopper. I've even backed the CD up a few times to listen again. You know, to make sure I was paying attention and didn't miss some important scene change or something that would let me move to the new POV but uh-uh, this book bounces back and forth so much my ears ache. I want to snatch up my red pen and start editing.
I know this is on CD and therefore I can't see what I could see in print and that could make a difference. Like when there is a double space to indicate time change or some other way to move POV. But there would have to be a lot of white space in this book to make up for all the shifts.
My question is; Does fame make you impervious to the rules? Does there come a time when the editor stops editing if you're too famous?
Anyone else see this happen?

The Foster Child

This is Carmel and she is our first foster dog. She was rescued from a high kill shelter in North Carolina. She was rescued and brought up here about a month ago and has had three foster homes so far. Mostly because of unforeseen life events that changed the foster families' dynamics. I told her she would stay with us till she found her forever home.
My daughter wants to keep her. She's easy to love. Half Dachshund, half Basset Hound. Her body is long, legs short and tail always wagging. Five pounds of love.
As soon as we got her home she put her nose to the ground and investigated every nook and cranny of the house. We took her outside so she'd get the idea from our other dog about what not to do in the house and she came back in and promptly peed in her crate.
At least it was in the crate.


It's been a long day and now she's sacked out on the big dog bed and snoozing.

Once upon a Query dreary....

I've been playing over at Slushpile and, of course, I love the Query Shark so I was wondering if there's a formula for this stuff?
I have my own idea on what makes a good query and it breaks down to three things. Conflict, motivation and goal.
The conflict would be the hook or whatever sparks the story. Motivation is why the character feels they have to take action. Life or death? Righting a wrong? Saving someone? something? The goal is where they want to get to, which outcome they are working for.
I usually start with three sentences that say these things and go from there. If more is needed then I start layering in more information. Then I go back and start cutting.
Did I really need this word? Is this fact necessary at this point?
And the biggest questions...Do I have everything the agent needs to get the gist of the story? Is my hook strong enough?
If I were an agent and looking at my 100th query before lunch would this grab me?
I get rejections and I get some reads. Some very nice agents and editors give me good comments along with the not-for-them salutation. It's okay, rejections don't bother me anymore. Some day I'm going to wallpaper my bathroom with them.

How's your query?