Happy Birthday to my YA buddy

Last week’s Road Trip Wednesday on YA Highway asked who you share your love of YA with in real life – as opposed to all the wonderful YA bloggers who form a fantastic network of supportive friends. I didn’t participate in that RTW simply due to time but I always like to see what the prompt is and I always give it at least a little thought whether I participate or not. My first thought at this prompt was the few close friends who I have talked into reading things like The Hunger Games or Harry Potter and who, despite themselves, really liked them.

Then it occurred to me that I was looking right past my best YA compadre: my oldest daughter – who is officially a teenager today. (Lord help me.)

She has been my bookworm since… forever. When she was little, we read and read and read books every night. As soon as she could read for herself, she just took off. Her nose is in a book a good part of every day.

And now that she’s getting older, we share much the same taste in books. Some of my favorite moments of motherhood are when she says, “Mom, you have GOT to read this book I just finished.” Then she rattles off an entire summary and list of characters.

And you know what? She’s got great taste in books. Case in point: she just finished Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake. She ripped through that in about two days and then insisted that I read it. I started it last night and, though it was creeping me out, I could NOT tear myself away.

She enjoys writing, too. And, I know I’m biased, but I think she’s pretty good at it.

So, Happy Birthday to my best YA buddy!

My memoir – hm, better make this a free e-book

It’s Road Trip Wednesday! This week, the folks over at YA Highway are asking: NAME THIS LIFE: What would your memoir be called?

The very first thing that popped into my was: My Life as a Late Bloomer.

When I was in college, I had a French professor who pointed out to me that on every test, I would ace all the parts of the test that covered the old material but I did not do well on the newer material. Every. Single. Time. So, the next test would roll around and I would ace all the stuff I had done badly on the test before – but that new material? Not so much. She told me she even named this method of learning after me. Gee, was I ever proud.

I have realized that in many parts of my life, this is how I react to things. It takes a while for stuff to sink in. To make sense. To put to practical use. To become comfortable with. You get the idea.

This is definitely how I could describe my writing “career” (such as it is). As it says on my “About” page, I’ve wanted to be a writer since I first cracked the spine on A Wrinkle In Time back in elementary school.

I am now 42 and finally getting serious about writing.

Late to the party much, Kitty? Yah. Well. Better late than never? I’m going to go with “yes.”

How about you? What would your memoir be called? Hop around to all the other YA Highway participant’s entries for some interesting reading!

The Unintended Post

This is the post I did not mean to write. It being the beginning of a new year and me reading lots of blogs by writerly-type folks, I have come across several where the writer talks about picking a word as a sort of “theme” for their upcoming year (we writers… it’s always gotta be about “the word” right?!). See these great posts here and here and here. And that last one also has a picture of a TARDIS keychain that I will not rest until I have in my possession. Not that exact one, mind you. That would be weird.

Anyhow, I liked these posts and the idea of picking a word but didn’t give much thought to taking this path myself. Confession: I’m kinda wordy and I really didn’t think I could narrow my “theme” for the year down to one word. I didn’t even want to try. Which is why it’s incredibly ironic that the word that came out of nowhere just the other day and struck me was:

FOCUS!

In all seriousness, I desperately need focus in my life. I need to focus on what I find important. I need to focus on what my goals are. I need to stop bumbling through life just waiting to see what might happen tomorrow, next week, next month, next year. Been there, done that. It doesn’t get a book written or published.

So I shall attempt to not get distracted by my penchant for learning how to play one single Cat Stevens song on the guitar (even though I’ve never played guitar and there is no rhyme or reason as to why I suddenly need to learn RIGHT NOW!). I’ll not get distracted by time-sucking black holes such as Facebook and Pinterest and YouTube. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to pound out a thousand or more words on a daily basis!

Aaaand, it’s a good thing this whole “Focus” theme didn’t kick in last night because I was perusing Facebook and was led to YouTube to watch this new video by The Piano Guys. Do you know The Piano Guys? You should.

42!

42: HI KITTY!

Me: Gah! Don’t scare me like that. Wait… what the? 42? What are you doing here?

42: It’s my turn.

Me: No it’s not. It is still 41′s turn.

42: Sorry, toots. Look at the calendar. It’s my turn.

Me: Well. What happened to 41?

42: I don’t know – you tell me.

Me: Um. Uh… This was the year that I … ummm. I don’t know. It was a great year, okay!

42: Uh-huh.

Me: Well, it was a year in which I didn’t commit any felonies!

42: Congratulations.

Me: *Thinky face*

42: Oh, stop it, you’re going to hurt yourself. It was a good year. Let’s just leave it at that. Remember when you never used to think you were even going to get to meet me? Cuz I seemed soooo far away? That was like… 18.

Me: *dreamy face* Yah, 18. And the 20′s were good. 30′s were good, too.

42: You know 50 is out there too. She can’t wait to meet you.

Me: Am I going to like 50?

42: Oh, yeah. She’s great.

Me: But, she’s not all like, menopausal psycho and bloated, is she?

42: Shhhh… shhhh… she might hear you.

Me: Son of a…

42: Don’t worry about it. 50 is great. She’s more confident than you, at any rate. *eye roll*

Me: So, when I meet 60, is that when the kids come into their own as genius millionaires and start taking care of me?

42: Riiiggghhhht. That happens… let me see *scratches head*… NEVER. In fact 60 might be when they move back in with you. For the third time.

Me: *sigh* And I buy stock in Xanax.

42: Nope, by then they’ll have just put it in the water supply.

Me: *heavy sarcasm* Well, this has just been fabulous talking to you. I’ve got big, big, big hopes for this year!

42: You should. Your husband loves you. Your kids love you. Even the dumb dog loves you. You’ve got a good job. You’ve got a decent home to live in. Although, you really should do something about that kitchen floor. And, hey, remember this – 42 is the answer.

Me: The answer to what?

42: Life, The Universe and Everything.

Me: You’re right, 42. I’m feeling a little more optimistic about you. I think we’re going to get along just fine.

42: And 43 can’t wait to meet you!

Me: Tell 43 to stay right where she is. I’ll get around to meeting her when I’m damn good and ready!