What happens when you love what you write?

I have this problem . . . I love what I write. Following each revision I say to myself "God that's good!" Then I read through it again and revise it again and say to myself . . . .
Will I ever say "It's perfect?"
I wonder if that term is even possible for an author to say about his/her own work.
I've finished my second book and really like it. I'm letting a friend read it and have sworn her to an honest/blunt review.
She calls me a few times a day and we chat about tweaking this and changing that.
But even with those tiny corrections, I still love the book.
Hopefully after I send it to my proof reader ABI, she'll love it also.
Then it's off to a grammar reader and hopefully she'll love it.
That's a lot of people who needs to love the book even before it goes out to reviewers, publishers and agents.
So many people need to love it before you, the general public, get a chance at loving it.
Wow . . . that's a lot of love.

I read such a great book!

I finished The Help last night but have been contemplating how to review the wonderful wonderful book. Never has a book dazzled me as this one has. I did something I never have before . . . I saw the movie before reading the book AND STILL couldn't wait to get home and keep reading.
Each page is perfectly crafted. There isn't one word, sentence, paragraph, page that is perfectly structured. Each character is deliciously and completely developed.
She wrote from the vantage point of first person for three different characters. Seamlessly switching back and forth.
I could feel the hot humidity of Jackson Mississippi. I could taste the tension between the blacks and white and I could feel the characters angst and love for the children they cared for.
Ms Kathryn Stockett's writing is perfection and The Help should be the level to which all other authors aspire to reach.
I only wish I could award her more than 5 stars.

My Fractured Finger

Two weeks ago I was walking my dog, Rudy, when I had a little accident. Rudy went to the left, and I went to the right. The problem came when I stepped up and onto the curb . . . you see the curb was at least 2 steps away. I stumbled and broke my fall with my right hand, ring finger. OUCH!
Who would think that one little finger would be such a pain in the ass. I can't carry things, I can't wash things (My face, the dishes, etc.), and working my computer is problematic. My left hand types away, while my right hand does hunt and heck.
There is one upside, whenever I drink tea instead of only holding up my pinky, I hold up two fingers . . . very snooty.
I'm hoping that the splint will come off soon. I'm tired of not being able to do things.
Next time, I'll make sure the curb is where it's supposed to be.

A Stop Watch on my Shoulder

This blog is for anyone over fifty, but also those under fifty.

Before I hit the big five-O, my life was different in so many ways. Unless you are one of those women who has had a tummy tuck, face lift, eye job, under chin job, boob job and lipo-suction no matter the amount of dieting and exercise you've done, chances are pretty good that you don't look like you did a mere ten years ago. I never had any of that work done.
And even if you did take care of you, what about your hands. Does the word vein make you cringe? It does me. And what about Grey hair, hot flashes and saggy skin . . . need I continue.
Now if we get away from our physicality you arrive at my stop watch, which tenaciously resides on my shoulder.
It ticks unceasingly, reminding me of all things I will never be able to do and hastens me to hurry up or fail at doing yet more.
What kinds of things are these, you might ask. I always had visions of becoming a truly accomplished equestrian. THAT'S OVER. Fear has taken hold and that dream is gone, as well as associated aspirations. There was a ride through the forests of Hungary that told of long fast gallops - GONE, I can't do them.
My husband wants to do the entire Pacific Trail backpack trip. CAN'T DO IT, too old, too fat and unwilling to not shower for that many days.
I always wanted to join the 100 Country Club. That's a club that features travelers who have visited 100 different countries. IN THIS ECONOMY - Hell no.
If I listen hard to my stop watch I see that I probably have twenty more years to try and finish off my own Bucket list.
but
Since money, age and strength are important issues I figure I'll get to do something on that list every other year. But remember at the same time the stop clock tics faster, so I need to do the more difficult things sooner than later.
The words of wisdom I'd like to pass on to those of you under fifty is that you shouldn't wait until you retire, or for some abstract time in the future when things are better . . . NOW IS THE TIME. SEIZE THE DAY!!!!
It is my quest to out pace the stop watch on my shoulder.
I'll keep you abreast of my attempt.
Wish me luck!

Boo! Did I scare you?

Halloween 2011 will soon be upon us. I have to admit that of all the holidays . . . 4th of July, Passover, Xmas and even Thanksgiving, none of them get my heart racing like All Saints Day aka All Soul's Day aka Halloween. Tell me any other holiday where candy flows freely, where I can scarf down as many Almond Joys and I can get my hands on, where I can dress like a lunatic and smear my face with make-up that makes no sense at all, where my grandson tightly holds onto my hand because a bloody mouthed vampire scares him. No Halloween is like no other holiday.
But by the looks of the houses around me, I'm not alone. We have cob webs aplenty in every color of the rainbow, black widow spiders that range from one inch to five feet who drape themselves all around doors, windows and trees.
Don't even get me started on the number of ghosts, gravestone markers, pumpkins and flashing lights that will light up the night.
Soon I'll make my Costco run and I hope that ten extra large bags of candy will be enough.
Trick or Treat to all my fellow Halloween enthusiasts.

Ahhh to be 35 again

My son-in-law's bday is today and he is hitting 35. Ahhh to be 35 again. I remember that age . . . I was at my best. I had finally lost all that pregnancy weight, and it only took me 11 years, but if I say so myself . . . I looked great.
Life's opportunities were still right there - just beyond my fingertips and the future still contained so many years filled with possibility.
Ahhh to be 35 again.
Don't get me wrong, being 57 is that bad. Much of life's petty problems don't seem worth the worry, but I sure would like to be 35 again.
I would do think differently. I wouldn't have put off so much. There are still so many things I'd like to do, but now I don't have the guts, time or youth to do it with. There were far away places I wanted to see . . . I'll still get to them, but not with the free abandonment of youth and bravery that comes with a 35 year old body chuck full of stamina.
I would cut myself more slack and not be as hard on myself as I was, because in hind sight it was wasted energy.

I wonder when I'm 95 if I'll say: Ahhh to be 57 again?

We'll see.

It's been 2555 days since . . . .

It has been 2555 days or 7 years since my mother passed on August 15th - today. A lot has happened since my momila died. I was blessed with two fantastic grandchildren . . . and it hurts my heart she will never meet them. I have written a book about her life and a second one is almost complete. I have crested over 50, my father has survived cancer and we've reconnected with cousins we haven't seen in 50 years. She missed so much and my world is the poorer for her absence.
I visited her grave-site today, but I didn't really need to go there, because I think about her every day in the little ways my grandchildren move and even the way my two children react to things. My daughter is a saver . . . as was her grandmother and my son reminds me of sayings she'd say. Seven years or 2555 days: it's as if she has been here all the time and gone for an eternity simultaneously. I miss you Mom!