Month: June 2006

Collecting for Christmas

The past few days I’ve been perusing my LiveJournal archives. I came across many of my entries on frugal living. Particularly the accounts of spending less than $100 for Christmas the past two years. If we are able to bring out Howard’s book on schedule, then this year’s christmas budget will have a little bit more wiggle room than that. However if anything happens to delay the next book, then this Chrismas will be tighter than ever before. I’m starting to feel a little antsy that I don’t have more stuff squirrelled away against this second possibility.

Last year I went to garage sales pretty much every weekend all summer long to slowly accumulate a stash of stuff for Christmas. This year I simply haven’t made the time to go. I’ve been so busy with the book release and relatives in town, it just didn’t seem that important. Now it is time for me to get to it. Of course I need to be careful as I select what to purchase. I don’t want to fill my house with junk, so I need some guiding principles as I’m purchasing. A friend gave me a very useful guide for christmas shopping. I will acquire for each child:
Something they want
Something they need
Something to wear
Something to read.

With this in mind I planned a trip to the thrift store. I decided to combine my thrift store trip with an outing for the kids. That wasn’t too smart. It’s hard to squirrel things away for christmas with the recipients standing right there. Also it’s hard to carefully sift through the thrift store when I’m always trying to count heads. Long ago when I was expecting my first child someone sent me a funny “how to prepare for parenthood” email. It said that to prepare for taking kids to the store you should take a live goat shopping. Pay for anything the goat eats or damages. If you intend to have more than one child, take more than one goat. Funny how such things just rise to the surface of my brain as I’m galloping to collect 4 children from the far corners of a store.

So today was not so good for acquiring Christmas stuff. Oh well. I’ll try again next week and arrange to not bring so many kids.

Things I’ve crossed off today’s list

Blogging for Books: Didn’t win, didn’t even place.
Packaging and mailing 5 sketched editions: done
Packaging and mailing 8 regular orders: done
Running to staples because I ran out of printer ink half way through printing labels: done
Herding four kids into the car for a trip to the thrift store because I thought it would be a good way to get us all out of the house: Done
Herding four kids through a thrift store amid complaints of everything being too expensive: done
Searching through the thrift store to find the children so that I can leave with the same number of children I brought: done
Requiring Gleek to get in the car amid tantrum: done
Promising to take the kids to the dollar store if they’re good at the post office: done
Take packages to the post office where all four kids actually behaved themselves: done
Drop off library books in the drive up book drop: Done
Spend an hour at the dollar store while the kids peruse, find treasures, and somehow all bring home candy: done
Feed people a healthy lunch: ha ha ha, not even close yet.

Father’s day

Howard and I have been parents for 11 years now. Over thos years I’ve collected quite a few cherished memories of Howard as a father. The very first of these occurred shortly after we brought our firstborn (Kiki) home from the hospital. Howard had Kiki swaddled tightly and tucked in the crook of his left arm. With his other hand he was cooking pancakes. I offered to take the baby so he’d have two hands free to cook. Howard responded by turning away from me, hugging Kiki tight, and saying “No way! She’s my girl!”

I have memories of Howard juggling for young children and deliberately dropping balls so that the child could fetch them. I remember him lying on the floor and bench pressing giggling children. I remember him cooking daddy eggs or scrambled eggs or grilled shrimp and sharing these with kids. Anytime Howard enjoys something he wants to share it with his kids. Some of these things aren’t yet appropriate for the kids (Pirates of the Carribean would lead to skeleton filled nighmares), but where possible we do share. Lately Howard has begun to GM a D&D campaign for Link and Kiki. They love it.

It has been an honor and a priveledge watching Howard grow in his role as a father. It has been particularly joyful watchin this process since he began working from home. Howard is a good daddy and he deserves the very best for Father’s Day. Unfortunately all I could supply were some new books to read, a clean kitchen, and this entry.

I love you Howard. Thanks for being a good Daddy to the kids we share.

Slowing down

It never fails. The kids want to watch a movie. I turn it on for them. Then the begging begins. “Mommy sit here!” “Watch it with me!” “Snuggle me!” I usually ignore these pleas because I have zero interest in watching Pokemon, Hamtaro, Blues Clues, or Barbie. Today was different. Today the movie pick was Zathura. I didn’t intend to watch it with them. I’ve seen Zathura before. But they wanted to watch the previews, so I sat on the couch while the previews were playing. I didn’t want to have to be called back into the room to make the movie play. Instantly both Gleek and Patches shouted “Yay!” and had claimed spots in my lap. I was pinned.

I pushed play. I figured I sit for a few minutes to appease the small children, then I’d get up and go do something productive. I actually attempted to extricate myself a couple of times, but was always met by fierce protests from both Patches and Gleek. “No mommy! Stay! Please!” Defeated and tired, I slumped on the couch and napped. Gleek and Patches didn’t mind me sleeping, they were actually glad because it meant I wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. They snuggled up against me and watched the show.

Sometimes my kids don’t need me to do things, sometimes they just need me to be there. It seems like all day every day I’m running around Getting Things Done. In the process I often ignore various pleas from my children. They want me to slow down. (“Mommy look at this!”) They want me to sit still. (“Mommy, read this story!”) I have long legs and they have short ones if I don’t slow down they can’t keep up. For young children, who are dependent upon me for security, always running to keep up can be distressing. Sometimes they just want to know where I am without having to look for me.

Both Gleek and Patches had really cranky mornings. (Hence my resorting to a movie for peaceful occupation.) Both Gleek and Patches have had a good afternoon. I’m pretty sure there is an important lesson for me here. I need to slow down enough to figure out what it is and learn from it.

I’m a Finalist!

A week ago I entered Joshilyn Jackson’s Blogging for Books contest. Since then I’ve been trying to play it cool. I’ve been trying to pretend it doesn’t matter. But I’ve also been obsessively reading all the other entries. There was some pretty hefty competition. I particularly liked a story about a Magical Milkcrate. (I wish I had one of those.)

Today the list of finalists aired and I’m one of them! I’m trying really hard not to read too much into the fact that my name is first on the list. I really do hope I win. In part because the books look like fun but also in part because I love my entry and I want to see it do well. Now I just have to wait for the winners to be announced. I hope it’s soon or Joshilyn is going to notice a traffic spike on her site from me hitting “reload.”

Parenting — The Art of Surfing Chaos

I start each day with a Plan. The Plan is usually formulated the previous night as I drift off to sleep. Every day, without fail, The Plan goes awry. Today’s Plan went wrong before it even got started. Last night I lay in bed, my mind buzzing with thoughts and plans. Eventually one of the thoughts was “Hey, why am I not asleep yet?” At 2 am I got out of bed hoping that a snack would slow my brain and let me sleep. I wandered toward the kitchen, but was distracted by the light in Kiki’s bedroom. It was on. Kiki was awake drawing in bed. She’d had a nightmare and chose this way to deal with it. I was pleased with her maturity in dealing with her dream. We both got a snack and went back to bed.

Then morning arrived. The Plan had me out of bed at 7:30 to make breakfast for kids, so they could eat at 8 and get ready for swim lessons. I’d have time to eat and check email during that time. Nope. I dragged myself out of bed at 8. Groggily put breakfast food on the table and rousted the kids out of bed. Then we had Clash of the Crankies. Kiki and I had the Incident of the Hairbrush, the Incident of the Missing Flip Flops, the Incident of You WILL Appologize to Your Sister, and the ever popular Incident of He’s Looking At Me. I skipped my breakfast and email because of Incident Management and we all arrived at swim lessons.

Swim lessons are nice for me because I hand four kids to their teachers and then go sit in the gallery to watch. It is a blessed quiet space where someone else has to manage my kids. Today I spent that time revising The Plan. I’d bring the kids home, get them all changed, eat, and take a desperately overdue shower. Then I would be back on track with my original Plan, just a little later. On the way home we had the Incident of I Want That Seat, the Incident of Stop Singing, the Incident of It’s Not Fair, and upon our arrival home we had the Incident of Will You Kids Please Get OUT OF THE CAR! Then came the bustle of removing wet swimsuits from small children because heaven forbid that they do it themselves. Howard waited patiently through this process with a pile of Schlock scripts for me to read. With kids dressed I mixed a bowl of oatmeal, put it in the microwave, and read scripts for Howard. It was good reading, they made me laugh. Whew. I could eat breakfast, have a shower and be back on track.

Four bites into my oatmeal, my neighbor knocked on the door. She wondered if I could watch her four kids while she took her car for an oil change. This neighbor and I do this kind of spur-of-the-moment babysitting exchange frequently. I love being able to run off and leave some kids behind, so I try to oblige unless I have a concrete reason not to do so. Plan adjustment, shower would have to wait. In fact breakfast had to wait while I inventoried children and got them settled playing. Then I ate.

Somewhere during the morning, my back brain began composing this blog post. I realized that this morning is a perfect example of the kind of chaos surfing that parents must do daily. I have to ride the ebbs and flows of the needs of 4 children, a husband, myself, and our small business. The Plan seems to never last more than an hour without being adjusted and reconfigured. Sometimes I reach the end of the daily ride and I’ve accomplished the goals with which I began the day. Other times I reach the end of the ride having abandoned my original goals and having accomplished something else. Occasionally the entire ride is nothing more than trying to keep my head above water. On those days all goals other than pure survival are abandoned. No matter how the day turns out, the mental picture of me trying to surf upon waves of chaos makes me giggle. Somehow that laughter makes the ride easier to manage.

Over there, Thats MY Castle

One of the highlights of attending Conduit was a reading that I attended. It was held in a small conference room with big cushy chairs around a table. In the room were Ken Rand, Julie Wright, James Dashner, and a woman whose name I didn’t catch, but who was another published novelist. Also in the room were Bob Defendi and Eric James Stone both of whom have written and published short stories as well as other projects. 4 novelists, 2 short fiction writers and me.

I probably should have been intimidated. I’ve never published anything. But I guess that somewhere along the line I decided that publication is not the sole measure of good writing. Perhaps I also recognized that this was a group of peers. They all had successes, but they also all had projects for which they were seeking publication. Selling one book does not guarantee the sale of the next book. There was a remarkable lack of ego in that room and they all welcomed me as if I belonged.

Perhaps the successful self publication of the first Schlock Mercenary book had something to do with their acceptance. I was part of a team who had measurably Done Something. Or perhaps that success just made me gutsy enough to walk in and act as if I had the right to be there. The fact is that I sat in a room conversing with 6 published authors handing out opinions on seeking publication, writing, and the publishing industry in general. Here is the amazing part. They Listened. More than that, my opinion was actually solicited on a couple of questions.

I listened too. I learned lots during that group conversation. Even better, I walked away feeling like I had the beginnings of friendships with these people. I loved sitting there in a room with people I respected who gave me respectful attention in return.

Since that day I’ve spent some spare moments pondering why I felt so comfortable in that situation. At some point I have become completely convinced of the quality of my writing. I feel like I’ve attained some mastery over words and therefore am qualified to discourse on the subject. Deep down I am sure that my unpublished fiction is only unpublished because I haven’t gone through the painful steps of submission and rejection to find the right market. It seems rather egotistical of me to be so certain that what I write is good when it has never really stood the test of public opinon. When did I get so egotistical? I sometimes wonder if I am one of those poor writers who is convinced they’re good. Yet I don’t think so. I’ve gotten enough positive feedback on this journal and on pieces of fiction, that this opinion feels based on a solid foundation. I believe in my ability to write. I am good enough to be published, but I really hate how the publishing industry currently works. Thousands of very good writers have their dreams squashed because they are lost in the masses, while many average writers publish book after book because they meet a publisher’s percieved market need. This highly competitve climate can become vicious. It can make enemies out of writers who should be allies, a phenomenon that writer Joshilyn Jacksoncalls “Slottiness“. Publishers and writers who play that game can win very big, but more often they lose. The best projects are the ones where a writer has a vision and is passionate about it. Many of these projects never see print because publishers don’t see them as marketable. But I firmly believe that people respond to this kind of passionate creation. People would read it if they could only get their hands on it.

I am determined to blaze a different path into publication. I want to step around all that submission and rejection. My work may not fit into a percieved market niche, but I believe in it. I love it. It means something to me. I know that it is not perfect. I know that if I keep writing I will look back on the early work and cringe. But that does not mean it isn’t worth doing now. The business plan for my writing mirrors the business plan that Howard and I had for Schlock Mercenary. I’ll start small with just the audience this livejournal has gained and a few thrown my way by Howard. I’m not sure yet whether I’ll self publish through Lulu.com or print my own books. It depends a lot on how much disposable income we have and how much space I have left in my basement. But if the work is worthy, if it is good, then the people who read it will tell their friends and my readership will grow. If the readership gets big enough, a publisher will come to me. I know this because in the past year, as Schlock Mercenary has begun to fly, we’ve begun to be approached by people who want to produce merchandise for us. Everyone wants to be part of something that is going somewhere.

Regardless of my determination to publish differently, my first step is still the same as any other writer. I need to write and finish my project. Until I have accomplished that task everything else is a castle in the sky. That castle right over there on that cloud. Thats MY castle. I can’t get to it yet, but I’ve got this brick and I’m starting a path. The next time I sit down at a table with published authors, I want to at least have a story in hand ready to share.

My conglomeration of thoughts

I haven’t been writing in here for the past few days. I’m not sure exactly why. I keep mentally composing entries, but none of them feel finished. All these partially composed entries sit in my brain cluttering up my thinking space and making it hard for me to concentrate on any of them. I’ve decided to solve this problem by throwing them all into one entry in a sort of mental clearing out.

Shall We Dance? is a movie I saw several weeks back. I’ve been meaning to write about how much I enjoyed it. There are lots of movies about “coming together” and lots of movies about “falling apart” but not very many about “staying together while growing as individuals.” I liked it alot.

Friday night I played hooky. I put the kids into bed (well, half of them) then left them in Howard’s care while I jumped into the car and drove to see X-men 3. I enjoyed the movie, but it felt too big. I think the reason it did was because none of the characters with the most screen time really had a character arc. The result was a movie full of static characters, big explosions, and too many subplots. I don’t connect with a movie unless there is a character who grows and changes. I wish they’d spent more time on the characters who did have arcs. When the movie was over I realized that it was midnight on a dark, stormy night and I needed to walk solo to my car. Provo is pretty safe and I’d deliberately parked in a well lit area, so I wasn’t scared, not really. But I still made sure that I paced a crowd of people leaving the theater and I was very aware of my surroundings as I walked to the van. The perils of being a small female were very apparent to me during that walk. Were I to be attacked my only real safety would be in summoning help.

I had to process a big batch of lost-in-the-mail and damaged books this weekend. I don’t like to have to do those because it means that something somewhere went wrong. Unfortunately odds are good that at least some of the errors were on our end. I did lots of manual manipulation of address lists and that creates lots of places for human error to creep in. Hopefully this will be the last batch and everyone who ordered a book will have recieved their schlocky goodness.

Now that the rush of pre-orders is over and regular ordering has settled down, I finally took the time to do a detailed financial analysis. We have enough money in hand to get us into October. By that time we need to be ready to take pre-orders on book 2. It makes me nervous not to have more pad than that. I’d like us to have money to take us through December so that if there are production delays we don’t have to panic or borrow money to live. So I’ll be redoubling my efforts to help our family live lean. I’m also going to start doing ebay auctions again. Auctions won’t make up all the difference, but every little bit helps.

Church today wasn’t very pleasant. Howard and I have been lax in appropriate behavior enforcement lately and the result is cranky and frustrating. The most frustrating part is that I want my kids to be able to love church the way that I love it. I know that sometimes the meetings are long and boring, but we all put up with those because equally as often the meetings are uplifting and inspiring. Being at church is a thing that we are supposed to be doing and I believe strongly that we are blessed as a family for going as a family. Mostly the kids don’t mind going, but today several of them wanted to be doing other things. I need to figure out ways to share my love of church with the kids so that they can build their own love of church and of the gospel and their own faith. It is possible that one or more of my kids will not love church the way that I do, that they’ll stop going once they’re old enough to be free of my dictates. That would hurt alot because I would fear that they were missing a great strength in their lives. If that ever does happen I don’t want it to be because I failed to try to share the wonder and joy that I feel because of my faith and church attendance.

Accumulated chaos

Life was crazy in May. Life was supposed to settle down in June. I forgot that the first few days of June were the last few days of school. I also forgot that the Tayler family reunion was happening during the first week of June. And I neglected to think that during the Tayler family reunion, I’d be caring for three of my brother’s children thus upping my child count to 7 rather than 4. Oh and during all of this I’ve been inventing the methodology for shipping schlock books on a daily basis.

I’m pretty sure that “calm” and “routine” are out there somewhere, but I haven’t gotten anywhere near them yet.

I didn’t really put it all together until this afternoon when I found myself sitting on my front steps in the heat of the afternoon. I’d reached the point where I didn’t want to be near any of the children. I had to be close enough to hear screaming catastrophe, but I wanted to be able to ignore minor squabbling for awhile. I love family. I love my kids. I love my brother’s kids. But there has been a huge shortage of solitude over the past week.

The Tayler clan has dispersed. Tomorrow my brother retrieves his children. Part of me hopes that then I’ll have a chance to establish a stable routine where I can do all the good mommy things I’ve only been intending to do thus far this summer. Maybe then I’ll have a chance to get the laundry and the house back under control. But most of me really expects that something else will come up. Three weeks makes a habit and I’ve been moving from major event to major event for nigh 6 weeks now. The emptiness of next week’s calendar must surely be some sort of mirage.

Going public

I tend to keep most of my fiction writing pretty private. But since someday I hope to publish, I need to change that. I’m making small steps. Today I entered a Blogging for Books contest (http://www.joshilynjackson.com/mt/archives/000522.html) If I win I get a book. If I win I get to feel affirmed that my writing is as good as I think it is. If I don’t win, I guess I get to try harder. The piece I entered is here: http://sandratayler.livejournal.com/127561.html if you’ve been a reader since before January of this year, you’ve already read it.