that there book I’m writing

So yeah, I was asked to co-author a book on WordPress with four other people. We all have our drafts submitted and we’re waiting on editing to come back. I’ve been working away at my other to-dos because I know crunch time will happen at some point.

Anyway, I saw some tweets with the link to the book up at the publisher’s website.

And then I read my email, with the link to the book on Where people can pre-order it.

Now, forgive me for being a bit dense, but this is when it hit me: I’m writing a book that people will actually read. And not just my mom, or my family, or friends, or people I know that I sorta work with sometimes, but even people I don’t know. Someone tweeted at me that they actually did pre-order it. (I faved the tweet.)

And then there was the whole “Oh yeah, don’t forget to make your author page on Amazon!” (I have an author page on Amazon??!??) Well, I do now.. the start of one, anyway.

I need to get a good pic and write a bio… and acknowledgments.

In my “HOLY CRAP!” times, when I let myself run around in circles, flailing, I will tweet at my other author friends and they say this is normal and no you don’t get used to it, isn’t it cool? And in writing that sentence, my brain went, oh em gee, I have author friends.

Sometimes I write blog posts about things like this so I can read them in my archives later and say, “Yes, this really happened.”

A Room of my own – sort of


I’m in my new office, do I look different?

I’m on the second floor, in the small bedroom, the one we called the nursery, the one we used as a bedroom for half the winter because it wasn’t as cold as the other room in the North corner, the one with “KATIE” stenciled on the window frame, coordinating pastel wallpapers and matching Noah’s Ark border. For a small room, it has two doors and two windows. It gets great morning light and if I sit at the computer too early, the screen is hard to read. No worries, a couple more months and the sun will move around enough for this to not be a problem.

We finally set it up, one rainy afternoon where it poured hard enough that not only the Internet went out, the tv almost went out too. Oh, and it’s damp enough here there are ducks and geese on my lawn all the time. Anyway, Ron finished assembling the hutch part and I gathered up all our piles and odds and ends, and wiped down dust.

My new office (okay, mine and RON’S but he gets it at night) is still a little bit of chaos and the old office, now the kid’s, is still a bit wild, but we can walk through both rooms and sort of know where everything is. Even if it’s “in that box over there”. My huge new desk surface is littered with papers.

There’s a futon in here. Meaghan sits on it, notebook on her lap, pen in hand. Or in  her mouth, as she gazes out the window, thinking. She writes. The light is better in here, she says.

Emma comes to visit, hanging off my shoulder. “I’m lonely,” she tells us. “I’m downstairs all by myself.” Sarah’s not up yet, but when she does get up, I can see her right away. “Hey,” she’ll say as she crosses the hall.

I don’t have her clacking the keys in tandem with me anymore. I can close the door and be alone and quiet, enough to hear whomever on the other end of the phone. I can see out one window if I turn my head slightly, see people walking down the road, some traffic, an occasional tractor with the lights flashing. I can’t turn around and show Sarah what’s on my screen though. I email her downstairs, send a link, forward an email with “print me plz :)” in the subject line.

Okay, now it’s really quiet. I’m feeling peckish. I have to go all the way downstairs, and hope I don’t forget anything on the way down or on the way back up. My travels through the house have changed direction. It’s faster to get to the kitchen if I use the back stairs. When I was in the other room, I used the front staircase more.

I may have spent a good half hour a day just in walking in circles around my house to go up the correct staircase.

Hmm. Wonder what they’re doing downstairs?

All that screen time wasn’t wasted

Over at the awesome educational gaming site Super Smart Games, they are running a series of posts on homeschooling and computer games. Intriguing, huh? I’m sure you know we love computer games, utilizing them in our children’s schooling, and I’ve always said that a well-designed game is educational in itself, no matter how fluffy it may seem to the parent, and…

Well, I wrote a whole article. You should go read it.  There’s even a picture of me not smirking like usual. Then you should poke around the rest of the site and bookmark it and stuff. Elle is my new bestest friend.

It's writing month!

So it’s nOvember – there’s NaNoWriMo so you can work on that novel you’ve always wanted to. This naturally lead to NaBloPoMo for excessive blog posts for the month. There’s even a .

For myself, I’m not actively joing any of them, I’m just trying to catch up daily and hack away at my to-do list. This may prove difficult, as this post has taken a couple three hours to put together.

Wanna be a professional blogger?

I come across a lot of people looking to hire bloggers. For pay, for real. I know a few people online that make a nice chunk of change at it. Today I came across one listing that I knew I had to blog about. Over at Problogger, there’s a listing for a new baby and pregnancy related blog. If you’re interested in writing about pregnancy, childbirth and babies (and I know some of my readers are) then you should go check it out.

I can post more of these kinds of finds if there’s interest.

journalversay – 2001

You know, when I first realized I had an important milestone coming up, then thought up the idea of taking you through each year each day, a part of the back of my brain hollered out, “WAIT! What about 2001?”

I kinda wanted to just skip it.

It was an incredibly difficult year.

The archives are a mess. I started a blog at Blogger in September, and when I imported the entries here, there are no titles and a bunch of extra tags that mess up the page. There are a whole pile of journal entries missing. I keep thinking about all the copying and pasting of the entries into here and more than just a lot of work, it would be hard. You know, emotionally hard. Because I have to read about it all over again. I thought I might go through them backwards, reading about Our Heroine without that sense of impending doom on the horizon.

Ron (see honey? I mentioned you) was able to spend most of the year working from home, so Emma had two parents to cling to. By the end of the year, he was hired by the college.

We bought this house and got our first mortage.
We left the house we built.
Relationships with certain family members deteriorated.

Planes crashed into buildings in the United States and the sky fell.

My grandmother died and my heart broke.