Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Spring 3 Problems with the pact

Here I thought I was doing so well with my pact to write everyday. As crazy as this school vacation has been I found time both Monday and Tuesday to work on my contemporary romance manuscript. Today is another story, and it's not that I haven't tried. Every time I locked myself in my room for a few moments of uninterrupted writing time, something would come up (usually on 2 legs and called me mom).

I think today is worse because my daughter is back to herself again. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful that she is no longer sick. But when she is back to normal the house volume goes up. She has a lot of her father in her and loves to annoy her older brothers at every chance she gets. Which means I was right back to being the referee to all shouting matches, and if that isn't distracting enough I stepped in something in the kitchen that my sock literally stuck to. So there I am, looking down at my bare foot in disbelief (when did my nail polish chip away?).

"Hey guys? Who spilled this and what is it?" I ask, already knowing that Not Me was the culprit. This time no one blames him, instead they one by one peak in to see what I am trying to chisel off the floor. Their looks of confusion and wonder over what it could be are almost believable...almost. And just as quickly as they appeared to look they one by one tip toe back out of the doorway. This brings me to another question. Why is it that when I am in my room, working on my computer, they each have something so important to ask or just have to talk about what so and so said or did? But when I am on my hands and knees trying to curse a mysterious sticky mess off the kitchen floor they all disappear?

Now I finally get back in my room, but I can not work on my manuscript because I have to mail some copies of my book. One to a contest winner from my recent book tour and another to a producer (that's right I said producer). I received an email the other night from a film producer in California. She is wondering about the film rights on my book and would like a copy to consider it for her next project.

My first reaction: I jumped up and kind of screeched and then ran downstairs to tell my husband and kids. We all jump around the room, well me and the kids, my husband gives a cool, "I told you it was that good."

My second reaction: As soon as the excitement died down and the reality set in my cynical side took over. This can't be real, but all of the information seemed true when I looked it up. Then I thought, even if it is real she still has to read it and decide if it is something she wants to make a movie about. I was going back and forth about whether I should blog about this. Part of me afraid to jinx it and part of me afraid to have to share my rejection, should that be the case. But I started this blog to share the good and the bad about my publishing journey. So now we will have to wait it out together.

So I get the copies ready and have to type up a quick note to the producer. No big deal. It will only take a minute and then it's on to the manuscript. I should know better than to let my brain think the words, no big deal. Because it makes whatever easy task I had become the biggest deal. This time was no different.

After painstakingly going over each and every word in the very brief letter I gingerly hit the print button and smile as I hear the printer start grunting and groaning. The paper pops out, and it's blank. Out of ink. Are you kidding me? I try everything to make it work. Surely if I shake the cartridge and replace it there will be enough for this little old letter. No such luck.

I round the kids up for the road trip, which is not hard to do. They have been asking me to take them to the candy store all morning. What throws me is that my sixteen year old wants to come too. Now anyone with teenagers knows they do not want to be anywhere in public with their younger siblings and their mom, unless they want something. Another well known fact is they are not going to be satisfied with candy like the younger ones.

Now I won't bore you with the details of what he promised to do for chores if I agreed to buy him this new have to have video game. I will tell you it didn't end in his favor. I did buy him candy though, which he took with a scowl.

We get back home and now my printer won't release the cartridges. It just keeps moving side to side as if saying, you want this...oh no you don't. Now I have to find the manual and figure out why this is happening. I think it's mad at me for trying to trick it earlier.

Here it is 5:00 at night and I am really ready to throw in the towel. I will count my blog venting as my writing time today. A cold beer by the fire while I read this printer manual sounds pretty good right now.

Tomorrow I will write double to make up for today. After all, it's no big deal...right?

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