TAGGED - "LUCKY SEVEN"

   A friend and great author, Tiffinie Helmer, has tagged me for "Lucky Seven." The rules of the game are as follows:

1. Start on the 7th line of the 77th page of your manuscript, and copy the next 7 lines to post.
2. Tag 7 other of your blogger friends to do the same.

It's a fun way to get a glimpse of an author's work, plus get to know a few of their favorite blogs to follow.  So here's my 7 lines from page 77 of Riley's Pond, my soon to be showcased young adult romance, told through the eyes of the boy who survived it.

"Funny Mom. Can't a guy get a little religion without it being national news?"

Jaxson looked up from his breakfast, visually checking off my attire. "Well, whoever she is, she's got your nuts in a vise if you're going to church."

"Jaxson!" Mom scowled. "Wouldn't hurt you to get your 'nuts' tweaked if it got you inside a chapel."

"MOM!" Jax and I cried in unison, shocked. She never called body parts by proper names, let alone slang references. In fact, if Mom had her way, we'd never know we had a penis.

She held her hands up and talked to the kitchen ceiling. "Why couldn't you have given me one girl?"

Scene set up:  Riley's new girlfriend and keeper of his lustful heart, is spending the summer with her grandmother who lives next door. Apparently, Granny, who we all know grandmother's have an instinctive seventh sense above motherhood, catches sight of a "hickey" placed very close to her granddaughter's heart, and decides "hell fire and brimstone" is what Taylor needs, not Riley, at least for twenty-four hours. Riley, on the other hand, is not about to sacrifice a day without Taylor and figures Grams won't kill him inside God's house. However, being only seventeen and on hormonal overload, he's ill-prepared for the "granny war" that attacks once "amen" is said.

Hard to tell much from seven lines, but hopefully, you get a "flavor" for the tone of the story. I love writing dialogue as a way to "color" my character's personalities, and Riley's Pond is chuck full of colorful characters. So? You're opinion? Something you'd read if you were seventeen again (or still are mentally, like me)? It's all right. You can be honest, just remember, Google-Earth will help me find you.

So, I now pass the challenge of the Lucky Seven to the following, whom I hope you'll pop over to see. They may kill me, but this is a way to say you're "IT" and let everyone get acquainted. Besides, it eases my guilty conscience somewhat for promising to do guest blogs, which I have not. Oh well, I promised my husband sex twice a day every day of his life when we got married. Ask him how that promise is working out.

  Calisa Rhose, author of Home, at www.calisarhose.wordpress.com

  Christina Wolfer, author of The Daughter, www.christinawolfer.com

  Doree Anderson, author of Waiting, who will kill me for this, but now she can use Lucky Seven as a way to tout her newest release at www.doreeanderson.com

  L.L. Muir (Lesli Muir) and yes, I have a death wish for tagging her, but she's got some great stories and this is the one I'm in the middle of right now and loving. Author of Somewhere Over the Freaking Rainbow check her out at http://llmuir.weebly.com

  P.J. Sharon, author of Savage Cinderella, her latest accolade, at http://circlepad.com/pjsharon
  Sandra Bruney, author of Plotz, and about to release The Lunch Club http://www.sandrazbruney.com

   Ruth A. Casie, author of Knight of Runes, and I'm thrilled also the soon to be released sequel www.ruthacasie.com


Also, because she so "graciously" sent Lucky Seven to me, please check out Tiffinie's website. Her newest book released today, Moosed-Up. She's also from my favorite state, Alaska and the pictures on her website are hers.

  http://tiffiniehelmer.com

Thanks for stopping by and I hope I've introduced you to some new favorite authors. If not, don't kill the messenger (many have tried and failed because...here I am). Later!

A View from the Other Side of the Writing Contest

Hubby emerged from the bedroom the other day wearing a name tag. True story. I do not lie.

Six months ago I agreed to coordinate UTRWA Great Beginnings writing contest. During the last month, I've barely spoken to friends, let alone family. I'm "one with the computer." The seat of my chair has a "custom fit" I've spent so much time pressed against it. When I entered my office early one morning, I swear I found one of my characters whirling in the chair.

"What the hell's going on boss lady? You haven't written for weeks. I thought I was getting my name in lights, but you've ignored me. What gives?" Riley, from Riley's Pond. And he's right. I set my own work aside, including Riley's story that I wanted to self publish by April, to manage the mayhem that erupted in the final weeks of the contest. The tagline "shit happens" became my daily mantra.

Last weekend it finally closed amidst wailing and gnashing of teeth (my own), the finalists announced and their entries forwarded to agents and publishers who would make the final determinations. One finalist was discovered after the fact and added on. One agent emailed me requesting an entry resent. Apparently, I tried to help her out by sending an entry chuck full of comments from another judge. I knew it was too good to be true....there had to be one last hitch, and she was the lucky winner. What can I say? I try to impress (or not).

I've learned some things during my tenure on this side of a writing contest.

1.  People are flaky. Or busy. Or forgetful. Or rude. We had judges bomb out at the eleventh hour, leaving me pulling my hair out trying to find "judge homes" for the entries they'd abandoned. I've sharpened my use of profanity. I can spew a creative combination that would make a truck driver blush. And loudly. I also discovered several "earth angels" who came to my rescue at the last minute. Also a couple of sounding boards who kept the same "bat hours" I did, who let my cyber cry on their shoulders. With their help, we managed to pull it off.

2.  Your email address is your label. Never gave it much thought until it came time to notify entrants of their standing. In this new age of instant messaging and digital addresses, no one knows your name. They know your "identity tag" and in some cases, this is the only identity you have. Remember the old TV show M.A.S.H.?  "Hot Lips Houlihan?" When you think of Major Margaret Houlihan, her "brand" comes to mind first. When you're placing your contact information on your professional letter to an agent or publisher, look at your email address. This is your first "brand."  "2hot4you@kissme.com" may not be the best tag to define you as an author. When you were sitting around with your friends setting up your account, "monkeybutt@sweetcheeks.net" may have been funny, and yes, would definitely set you apart in an agent's or editor's mind as "unique," but for the wrong reason. Your "brand" - the email address an agent would type every time they needed to contact you, could prove too much. I saw a lot of strange "monkeybutt" email addresses and thought these talented authors may not be taken seriously because their contact with the professional world is anything but...or butt.

3.  There is stiff competition in the writing spectrum. Lots of talent! Being the one person who received everyone's entries, I was privy to peeking at some that intrigued me. Wow! I've cataloged a few I hope to see published. We had 151 entrants, and out of those, only 22 were finalists. Tough odds, and the judging was tight. I can also confirm that vampires are still alive among the popular "undead." Check out the finalists at http://www.utahrwa.com/gbfinalists.html

So is it worth entering a contest? I have to say "yes." Why? Because the critiquing process is an essential part of writing. Even if you have wonderful critique partners like I do, you need the fresh set of eyes that's never seen your story to give that honest, sometimes brutal, opinion. However, I've learned to only take what applies to me from a critique, and shed the rest. In the end, it's my story to tell. When I enter contests now, it's because I want to get my work in front of a particular judge.

I applaud those who entered UTRWA's Great Beginnings Contest. It takes guts to enter contests. You essentially wear your heart on your sleeve when you submit your creative baby to the "lion's den." You never know what's going to come back. So far, the feedback from contestants has been favorable and complimentary of our judges. A great relief to me as coordinator and a huge "kudos" for my Utah Chapter of RWA. Congratulations judges for a job well done and contestants for your bravery in entering. It's a "win-win" for everyone, even if you don't make the top three. Everyone learns something.

As for me? Monday mornings are "staff meetings" with my characters. I have some hefty apologizing to do and a change of direction. Stay tuned. Until then, I'm entering another contest myself and getting re-acquainted with the stranger roaming my house and eating my food. He retires this week (refer to last month's blog). Oh joy.

Life is all about change...a constant evolution. Learn to "roll"....

WACKY WEDNESDAY... Life Interrupted

  I've returned to Planet Earth. I know you worried when you heard alien forces had come to collect all the beautiful, sexy people from Earth and I didn't say "good-bye."

Life attacked and it's been all I can do to tread water. My rubber ducky inner-tube is covered with patches and I just realized "Flipper" is a close cousin to "Jaws." Having eaten my weight in chocolate and Lays potato chips, I've grown to more than just a tasty morsel.

First, my husband has decided to retire. Then he decided not to. Then he filed his paperwork. Then he took it back. Now he's re-submitted it. Could have been the switchblade I held to his neck that made him finally commit. Now...we wait...to die, according to him. He considers retirement the last phase of life before death. Cheerful, ain't he? If his attitude continues to exude rays of sunshine, this "last phase" could come to an abrupt close much sooner than he's anticipating.

I know he's nervous. So am I. Having him around all the time watching my every move is going to cramp my style big time! I've already been "advised" my spending habits will have to be drastically curtailed - that we'll need to tighten our belts. I laughed out loud. I've got to get a belt around me first! And as far as "curtailing my spending" I told him we should start with groceries. I served  him a pea for dinner. Told him to chew between bites so he'd feel fuller. He accused me of being a smart-ass. Moi? I'm also supposedly "selfish and unfeeling." I threatened to turn into the "Stepford Wife" he thinks he wants. I served breakfast with a smile and after he downed three bites, I informed him you can't taste arsenic. See? I care. I didn't have to tell him.

We discussed selling the house - "downsizing." I pointed elsewhere. There's already been signs of "downsizing." Survivor benefits has been another fun topic.  If he goes first, supposedly I'll be rich enough to buy a palace. If I die first, he's screwed. Guess who's going first.

Second, I've decided to go on a diet...again. This never ends well. No Diet Coke, bread products, and practically no chocolate. I'm a bit edgy and my patience level is nil. Then, for some asinine reason, someone decided to rob me of an hour of sleep during this delicate time, and tonight alone, I received 11 political solicitation calls. If it happens tomorrow night, someone on the receiving end of an 800 number could be hearing from me.

Third (everything happens in 3's) I've been coordinating Utah RWA's Great Beginnings writing contest. I've never done anything this huge. Spreadsheets and I have a love-hate relationship. Just as I thought I had everything coordinated, lined up beautifully, and executed to perfection...all hell broke loose. I had judges drop out at the eleventh hour, leaving me curled in the fetal position sucking on my thumb (dipped in chocolate, of course). Luckily, my cheerleaders rallied, pom-poms shaking, and helped me back on my feet. My left eye may never stop twitching and my teeth have been ground to powder, but I think I see light at the end of the tunnel. It's a dim light...possibly just a firefly.

So by the end of April, I will have survived the contest, have a husband home waiting for me to return from the salt mines for the first time in 37 years, and more than likely, have gained back the seven pounds I've lost. I'll also be another year older. Oh...the joy.

My closing thought? When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on. There's no guarantee tomorrow is going to be any better, but the day after that, may be...or the day after that.  "This too shall pass." Change is hard. Growing hurts, but it does make us better - increases our "learning curve."  We gather knowledge every day whether we're aware of it or not. I hope my sweet husband, whom I adore, learns to enjoy this new phase...or stays out of my way!

Thanks for sharing another Wacky Wednesday with me.