Today’s Thoughts on Williams Syndrome

Small Son’s test results came back, and his calcium is elevated.  Once upon a time this happened to us, and he descended into kidney failure because of it.  We’re hoping it can be changed with diet instead of drugs, and I’m keeping a diary of everything that he puts into his mouth.  It isn’t much.

Today he was supposed to go into the hospital for a sedated brain MRI, a renal ultrasound, and more lab work, but he caught a cold so we rescheduled it for next week.  Nerves devour me.  Will we find the answers that we need by looking into his brain? There is this feeling that I get whenever I sit down across from his doctors. It’s cautiously hopeful and laced with terror.  This is how I learned that I narrow my eyes when I’m listening intently.  I try not to do it anymore because the doctors don’t like it.  

Small Son’s school is trying to ship him to another school and place him in an autistic classroom there.  He doesn’t have autism.  His doctors and geneticist all agree that this would be detrimental to him.  His father and I feel the same way.  The school still pushes this recommendation, and I spent three hours in a meeting last week listening to their arguments.  Most of them were illogical.  I think it’s all about being right and getting rid of an intricate, challenging child.  I came home and my son kissed my cheek. I want to say, “How does it feel to be six years old and have people be afraid of you?”  Of course I don’t say this.  I usually never say anything.

Santa brought Small Son and Tiny Daughter a pair of Big Wheels for Christmas.  I sit on the back patio and watch them ride around.  Tiny Daughter chatters.  Small Son laughs.  I write everything down in a notebook, because suddenly it occurs to me that I should write about all of this.  It will be a book full of struggles and hope.  I’ll explain that the hardest part isn’t the medicine and therapies or even the hospital visits, but it’s the way that some people treat us.  I’ll explain the strength that I have discovered in humanity.  I’ll tell of the anger that is always right there under the surface, and how today’s cashier is lucky that I can control my temper so well.  I wonder how long I should wait until I write it, or if I should start now.  I believe in happy endings.

Marvelous.

 

The most marvelous thing happened today.

As we navigated several hours of snowy roads, I pulled out my computer and opened my current WIP. I had put it on the back burner as I focused on revising a different project, but as I read through, I found that I was smiling.  Oh, you delightful characters, what mess have you gotten yourself into this time? It was such a lovely feeling!  Time after time I have put this piece away because something more pressing has come along, and yet I continually come back to it.  There’s a spark here.  I can’t tell you how excited I am to put aside all other distractions and focus on this WIP.  I’m going to do just that, for it is now my scheduled writing time.  Why, how professional! ;)

Also, thank you for your fantastic reading list suggestions! I’m also looking for more YA novels, so if anything spectacular comes to mind, please think of me. :)

Oh, and those purple heels?  They are now mine, oh yes.

Google history: eternal poison, bordello shoes, sinfest.net, beelzebubs goodbye song, panic in the year zero, men’s skinny jeans, lapis lazuli

Help Me Be Literate, People

So I have goals for 2010. Many goals. Achievable goals, I think. I’ve been reading a lot of bloggers that go through 50 books in a year, and they keep a list of them.  What a fantastic idea! I can do that! Reading is, of course, fundamental to the writing process.  So why does it seems like such a luxury?  But if I have a quota to fill, well then.  I can’t let myself down, can I?

This is where you come in.  I’m looking for book suggestions.  Light, dark, classic, contemporary, poetry, anthologies.  Whatever.  Tell me the books that you love to read.  What would you suggest?

I’d suggest August Frost by Monique Roffey. It’s one of my very favorite books of all time.  There are a lot of aspects that appeal to me (seasons, a bakery, flowers) and it pains my heart in the most exquisite way.  I would love to write like that.

Okay.  Hit me. What should I add to my list?

Say “Ah”.

Kicked back, put my feet up on the new desk, and thought, “Ahhhhhhhh.”  Ah, things are going well.  Ah, I’m taking a second to breathe.  Ah, being a writer and watching an idea come to fruition is one of the best things in the world.  You know what I love? I love when somebody gets all up in my grill and says, “Reed wouldn’t do that!” or “Tell Soleil to pull herself together and get a move on!”  The idea that somebody is vested enough to actually get angry over a character…that’s pretty sweet.

Revisions are complete. It’s like swimming under the water for a long period of time and then suddenly coming up for air. I feel rejuvinated and ready to tackle more projects. It’s time to work on my submissions count. Boy howdy, but I miss seeing my name in print. ;)

Happy holidays, everybody.

Pieces out: 13

Goal: 40

Guest Post By Kurt Newton

Literary Horror and Other Unnecessary Labels
By Kurt Newton

Whoever said horror fiction had to be crude? Whoever said you can’t have horror without art? Somebody must have said it because it’s all I see when I read blogs discussing the current state of the horror genre. You’d think there are only two types of practitioners vying for supremacy in the horror world. In this corner…with their wine and cheese meet and greets and their intellectual discussions…the highly educated, the well-read…the Highbrows! And in this corner…with their blood and guts and their sexual excesses and their aversion to multisyllabic words…the self-professed, the self-published…the Lowbrows! The Highbrows shout: “You’re ruining the genre!” The Lowbrows growl: “Shut your piehole you uppity-assed dick-twittlers!” The Highbrows glower condescendingly with eyebrow raised (as only a Highbrow can do). The Lowbrows hawk and spit and flip them the finger.

I mean, come on. Literary Horror? We actually need a label now to define what’s been around in popular fiction since Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein first bowed in 1818? From Edgar Allan Poe to Hans Christian Anderson to Bram Stoker to H.P. Lovercraft to Ray Bradbury to Richard Matheson to Shirley Jackson to Ira Levin to Stephen King to Clive Barker to Phil Intheblank …we’ve been blessed with literary horror and now suddenly we need to distinguish between what’s literate and what’s not? Shouldn’t that be the job of the reader? When a reader picks up a book (either physically or virtually), won’t a quick skim of the inside cover or the first paragraph of the first page of the first chapter be enough to tell them what they’re in for? If not, then shame on the them.

The Highbrows want to “save the genre”. Save it from what exactly? The inevitable revolution taking place in the publishing industry? The fact that more and more readers are getting their fixes online? The fact that twenty years ago desktop publishing opened up reading, writing, publishing and art to a segment of the population that would otherwise not have had the means or the access? The Greeks believed certain knowledge should be accessible only to those intelligent enough to understand it. Could the Greeks also have been uppity-assed dick-twittlers? And how much does monetary compensation play a roll in determining what is good and what is not in the eyes of the elite? (That’s a whole other essay.) Could it be the Highbrows are nervous they’ll one day find themselves on the same tiny island with Lulu-published Neanderthals? Does the genre really need saving? Or is it simply in transition? Once the dust settles won’t the fight really be about the words and not each other? Won’t it be about producing the best example of what you’re rallying for, instead of wasting time and energy on what you’re rallying against?

A hundred years from now there will be a revised list of horror writers who made a difference, and it will include those who let their work do the talking, not just their mouths. The size and shape of their brows will be merely a footnote.

END

Hey, Mercedes here.  I simply adore this man. Keep up on his work by following him here. You’ll be glad that you did.

So I Won Some Chocolate!

And I cannot tell you how excited I am! The very charming Eisley Jacobs ran a contest on her blog, and there are some really sweet and heartwarming comments on there. You can check it out here.

Also, once upon a time Kurt Newton and I had a writing challenge going on, and I emerged the victor. As a consequence, he graciously agreed to guest blog over here on A Broken Laptop.  He wrote a fantastic essay, and I’ll run it on Monday. Believe me, it’s something to look forward to.

Google history: best christmas movies, ghost hunter dvds, gingerbread man costume, scary christmas decorations, knit cthulhu mask

Writing Schizophrenia

I’ve been talking to some wonderful friends about the writing process.  We all know how much time it takes. It’s a crazy balancing act to be both a writer and a functioning human being. Most of us (try to) write in solitude. We need unbroken concentration and time to think. But how does that work in a world where you also play the role of spouse, lover, parent, friend, child, co-worker, etc etc etc?

Child A: I want toast.

Writer: Just a second!  Mommy’s being brilliant.

Child A: Toast. Toooooast.

Child B: I want chicken nuggets.

Writer: How can you two be hungry? I fed you right before I sat down. Just a minute. “And then he said the words that they had been waiting to–”

Phone: RING!  BRRRRING!  

Writer: Oh, come on! I only have 20 minutes to write today!  Why can’t…

Child B: Mo-om, Child A has a knife! He’s trying to open the peanut butter jar with it!

Cell phone: Da da da dummm da da da dummmm

Kitchen Stove: Hello, I shall inexplicably turn on and try to burn the house down. Here I go!

Doorbell: (Plays “Bring A Torch, Jeanette Isabella”)

Writer: You’re frickin’ kidding me!

I’m exaggerating, but only a very little.  The biggest exaggeration is that my son, who is nonverbal, would actually ASK for toast.  Usually he heads straight for the knife.  But this is it, right?  This is what it’s like to write when you have a family, a community, and a Real Life.  Tell me, my friends…what on earth do you do?

Welcome Back, Me

So something happened to me last month: I lost my mojo.  I couldn’t write. I couldn’t edit.  I second guessed everything that I did.  I was convinced that I just had to work harder, because isn’t that the way that you get through life?  Just work harder? Study more, put in more hours, get up earlier, stay up later, whatever.  Just work harder.

But it didn’t seem to make a difference.  My brain short-circuited, and shaking my fist at it didn’t seem to help.  I felt like I was watching everything disintegrate.  Writers write.  I’m not just a dabbler; I’m a writer. It’s as much a part of me as my blood type. So if writer’s write, and I can’t…then what am I?

I’m too young for an existential crisis.  I was simply burnt out.  I have no idea what finally switched the switch tonight (after a month, no joke!), but I just breezed through eight chapters of editing like it ain’t no thang.  And that’s pretty sweet.

I’m back, baby.  Booya!

Google history: storm troopers on their day off, bright eyes, the black cauldron, tarja nightwish, lloyd alexander, surreal horror, where can i find a decent peppermint shake

Chestnuts Roasting…

When I think of Christmases past, I do remember some of the presents (I went nuts over Maniac Mansion one year.  Rock on NES!), but mostly I think of the things that we did.  Mom would have us write a list of ten Christmas activities that we wanted to do as a family, and we’d hit as many as possible.  It’s something that I’d like to pass on to my kids.  Here’s my ten activities for this year:

1. Make holiday cookies for the neighbors

2. Drive around and look at Christmas lights (or “yights”, as my tiny daughter calls them)

3. Make Christmas cards

4. Play Christmas songs on the piano

5. Watch Babes in Toyland

6. Decorate the  tree

7. Go caroling

8. Have a present wrapping party

9. Decorate the house while listening to holiday music

10. Make homemade hot chocolate with candy canes

Today we decorated. which was a lot of fun.  For those of you who celebrate the holidays, do you have the seasonal spirit? How do you get into it?

Dealing With Disappointment

Hello, my friends. We are human, and therefore we shall be disappointed. Welcome to life.

This is something that I’ve been thinking about for quite a while.  Hmmm, disappointment.  Shall I write about it on my writing blog? My family blog? Both? It applies to all of us. Nobody is immune, not even you.  Sorry.

You work on a piece, polish it, think it’s as perfect as you can get it, and it’s ultimately rejected. What do you do? You don’t get the promotion that you went for. Or you hope the geneticist will suddenly grant you miracles, and it turns out that she is only human after all.  Or, you know, something like that. 

Disappointment can be crushing.  If not taken care of properly, disappointment can turn into despair, and despair is an ugly thing.  All you have to do is google “authors who committed suicide” and you can see that.

I’m hoping to get a great conversation going about this in the comments.  How do you personally handle disappointment, whether it be in the Writing World, or Real Life?