Thank You!

Wow! I would never have dreamed in my wildest dreams that this would happen! Around this time last year I made the decision to stop messing around and take my writing seriously. I mentally prepared myself for a long, long road to publication. My mind cannot even begin to grasp all that is happening now!

This past January I joined Harlequin's writing community. It was in the Work-In-Progress Care Group that I met an amazing group of women who showed me the ropes and encouraged me along the way. Like a sponge, I absorbed every tip and took notes in every online class or chat. I wanted to learn all that I possibly could to enhance my craft. I still have a lot to learn, but as someone who considers herself a life-long student, I'm looking forward to the lessons to come.

The morning of March 6^th a friend reminded me that it was Andy's birthday. It was the first time in sixteen years that I forgotten his birthday. It was a good feeling. It proved I had finally healed, finally moved on. I sat back and thought about it and how he would have been thirty-three. I tried to imagine what life would have been like if he had lived. That's the moment If Only was born.

There will be some that say this is just beginner's luck. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. Time will tell. But the one thing I am sure of is that my life has been leading up to this. If Only would never have had as much of an impact if I had not gone through what I did fifteen years ago.

Each experience I've had, every heartbreak, every loss, every moment of pure joy will be put to use to better me as a writer. God had a purpose for all of it, and I believe this is it.

I want to thank each and everyone of you who took the time to vote, share, and read my manuscript! I may have made it to the top ten with my story, but you were the ones who took me the rest of the way. I cannot thank you enough!

I only planned on getting my feet wet this year, but God decided it was time to swim the ocean. So here I go!

“Now all glory to God, who is able, through His mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.” --Eph. 3:20

If Only

VOTE NOW!
 If Only

SYTYCW

I have a lot to be thankful for today, but one thing stands out at the moment. 

In April, I wrote a blog post called My Heart. You can read it here. It tells you how my manuscript If Only came about, and how I was inspired. I had come to the conclusion that all the things I have experienced over the years, all the emotions I have felt—the highs, the lows, all of it—could be of use.

Ernest Hemingway once said “There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” So that's what I did. I poured all those experiences onto paper and If Only was born.

Today, my work is being recognized in a big way. I keep pinching myself. 

Harlequin's So You Think You Can Write competition has announced their top ten, and yours truly is on that list.

Mind blown.

Starting today through November 25^th, you can read my entire novel at soyouthinkyoucanwrite.com and vote. Everyone has one vote per twenty-four hour period from now until the 25^th. The public decides the winner which will get published.

In case you haven't seen it yet, here's a look at what the story is about...

Ten years ago Micah’s world came crashing down when her boyfriend was killed. As the anniversary passes, she finds herself overwhelmed by the pain. Her dreams become more realistic than ever. He still exists if only in her dreams. But is that enough?

Micah’s best friend, Josh, has noticed the change in her. He desperately wants to take her pain away, but knows there’s only so much he can do without jeopardizing his own heart.

As two worlds battle—her dreams and reality—Micah struggles to escape the ghosts of yesterday so she can see what’s waiting for her.

purpose

I've gone back and forth all year long trying to find out what kind of books I want to write. Most authors stick with one genre. But if you know anything about me at all, you know I don't like to be limited. I like to have my hands in as many cookie jars as possible. It's a fault of mine.

I want to write stories that mean something, that have purpose. It's not about just a random story for the fun of it. Life is hard. We struggle. We falter. We become defeated. Finding escape in a book has always been my go-to, and I know it is the same for many others. We need to escape the mundane, the difficult, and the sometimes impossible. Wouldn't it be awesome if while we were escaping our problems, we get pointed in the direction of the One who holds the answers?

It is easy for me to lose focus and forget my purpose. But as I look back and read through past posts, I remember the things that God first laid on my heart years ago. I am reminded of my calling and it just gets me fired up all over again.

So as I begin to write this next novel, I've come to a decision. I want to write stories that draw people in and point them to Jesus. Period.  

Kade Jameson Kerns

In celebration of my charming nephew's first birthday, I've asked my sister, Jessica, to share Kade's story. So without further ado, here it is...

Kade Jameson Kerns.

My miracle.

My glimpse of God's goodness.

“He's perfect!”

Those were the words that tumbled from my mouth moments after my son was vacuumed from my body. Yes, I said vacuumed. That should have been the first red flag that my charming little boy was going to be quite the adventure. After three days of labor and not enough progress, I was finally taken in for a C-section, but Kade was just not quite ready to face the world. Thank God for vacuums.

He screamed louder than you could imagine, and unfortunately, that scream has stuck with him since. I remember the doctor saying he was an A++ baby or a 9/9 which is a score they rate the babies after they are born. What that meant was that he was as perfect as can be. These were the words I longed to hear as I lay strapped to a bed after the C-section. After forty long and miserable weeks, I was finally able to meet my precious miracle, Kade.

Twelve hours after we were released from the hospital, we noticed Kade felt warm and decided to take his temperature. It read 100.7, which seemed a bit elevated from the temperatures he had while at the hospital. We had a pediatrician appointment the very next day so we debated whether we should just wait until the appointment or take him in earlier. Brandon did not want to wait. He insisted we call the pediatrician and ask even though we were trying to persuade him to wait.

To this day, I am so grateful for Brandon's anxiety over this matter. It turned out to be the biggest blessing. Later we would find out that had we waited just one more day, Kade would no longer be with us. Our pediatrician told us to come in immediately. Because I was still recovering from my C-section, my mom insisted on going with Brandon while I caught up on my rest. I laid down and after two hours I woke up to find out my son was being admitted back into the hospital. So many thoughts rushed through my mind, but I don't think I came close to being prepared for what was about to happen.

Meningitis and bacterial infection were two things they suspected at first. They immediately sent out for cultures and did a spinal tap. I remember the pain of knowing my son was being pricked and prodded and I couldn't even hold him. I had developed a fever of my own and was not allowed near my son or in the maternity ward.

We were told they would need to keep him in the NICU for at least two days. After two days, we were told he would need another five days. After five days, it turned into another twenty-one. In those first days, my son was put on four antibiotics and received every test that was humanly possible to take, yet they found nothing.

On August 10^th, we received unexpected and unwanted news. It was 11:30pm when my phone rang. Now, for those of you who know me, you know I NEVER answer my phone. But for some reason that night I did. It was the doctor calling to inform me that my son had been digressing since Brandon had left earlier that night. His heartbeat had reached three hundred and all of his vitals were failing. They told me they had contacted Children's Hospital and had assigned emergency transport. Kade now need a level three NICU and that they were “scared he might not make it through the night.”

When you go from hearing you baby is “a perfect A++ baby” to “he may not last the night,” there is something inside you that dies. It was as if my heart stopped beating and my world completely stopped.

They went on to say that if Brandon wanted to follow the paramedic, he could if he go to the hospital quickly. I tried running out into the living room to tell everyone, but words failed me. How could life take such a turn? What was even wrong? How was he fine the week before? Was God's purpose just to allow him a few days' visit on this earth? I had so many questions racing through my mind and a barrage of emotions hitting me at once.

It is amazing how fast you can love someone you barely even know. Kade had only been in my life for a matter of days before I heard the words that he might be gone. But somehow in that short time, I had come to love him more than I thought possible. Kade Kerns was supposed to be number 56 on the football field while I stood cheering from the bleachers. Mr. Kade Kerns was supposed to be smart and talented and kind. He was supposed to do big things for God and hopefully change the world. See, in my mind, Kade needed more time on this earth. I was forced to face the reality that God's plans may differ drastically from my own.

Kade was admitted to St. Elizabeth's in Boston. He was at a level three NICU, which held the babies that had lots of problems. After five days of not seeing my baby boy, they finally allowed me in. I remember walking in and my heart breaking for all of the families crowding around their sick babies. I cried for them and felt sorry for them thinking they were worse off than my own child. Little did I know that Kade was listed as the worst one in the unit. I had no clue.

My baby had been placed in isolation. It was a bright and cold room that frightened me. You had to scrub in, wear gloves, and put on a sterile suit before ever stepping foot into the room. My son lay naked on a small bed at the center of the room. He was surrounded by wires, needles inserted into his hands and feet, monitors hooked up, and what looked like a large fish bowl or clear globe over his head for oxygen. At this point, he was so dehydrated that his skin had started to peel. He went from being a healthy looking baby to an ashen gray color. His veins were visible through his thin skin. I fell to my knees and wept at the sight. That was not my baby. This was not how it was supposed to be.

Kade was fully dependent on oxygen as his lungs were filled with fluid and he had developed severe pneumonia. He was now on five antibiotics, which made his eyes roll in every direction. The nurses had to start taking blood from his head because they had run out of places on his tiny body. They confirmed our worst fears. Our child was very sick. It wasn't what we wanted to hear. On a positive note, they had finally narrowed it down and believed to have figured out what was wrong with him.

Herpes Simplex Virus, referred to as HSV type 1. What I began to learn was there were different types of herpes. People tend to automatically think of genital herpes because it is the most commonly known form. However, this was not what Kade had. Kade had tested positive to HSV type 1 which is the virus that shows up in the form of cold sores. It took me awhile to understand this. We sat at a conference table for hours each day with twenty different doctors to have them explain to me how a cold sore almost killed my son. What happened is someone, within his first few days of life had HSV1 and gave it to Kade by either holding him closely or kissing him.

Apparently, ninety-five percent of Americans have HSV1 even if they have never had a cold sore in their life. Most of the time it is passed to you by your mother. You can have HSV1 and never know. The odd thing is I tested negative and therefore did not pass on the virus to Kade nor did I pass on any antibodies to fight it which means I am one of the five percent. However, at this point, Kade had passed it on to me.

If you have HSV1, you could be spreading the virus without knowing it. A cold sore is a sign of what they term “shedding” or spreading of the virus. Someone who worked with or visited Kade was shedding and through contact passed it on to him. Because I did not have it initially, he did not possess the antibodies to fight it off.

Because a baby's immune system is a clean slate, a virus takes advantage and goes about ruining the body as fast as it can. A baby's body can come in contact with any type of virus at an early age and it will attack the main organs first. It will attack the liver, lungs, heart, brain and then move onto the eyes, ears, and so on. Sure enough, that is was happened. Kade's heart was no longer beating regularly. His liver count had skyrocketed and was shutting down. His lungs were filling with fluid and extremely weak. And his third spinal tap showed that the virus had moved to his spinal chord and brain.

We were told at this point that if our son lived there was no guarantee concerning what kind of life he would lead. It was explained to us that out of the babies that had come in contact with this particular virus fifty percent of them died within the first few days. Twenty-five percent were completely brain dead and lived in a vegetative state. The remaining twenty-five percent would suffer from neurological defects such as seizures and abnormal development.

At this point, I didn't know how I should pray. I just remember praying “not my will, but Yours be done.” I humbled myself and pushed my desires aside and asked God what He desired.  If God wanted to miraculously heal him, I would praise Him. But if Kade's purpose was just to live for two weeks or live a life in a brain dead state, I would still praise Him.

Brandon and I sat back and watched God show up in a big way. For the twenty-one days he spent in St. Elizabeth's, we watched God heal each individual organ in his body. The nurses said they saw things they had never seen before in their careers. They took pictures of Kade and told us he would be in the medical books. They had never seen a baby this young pull through something like this. It was such a rare story, but to them it also had a rare ending.

Kade somehow left NICU with instructions to have physical therapy three times a week, antibiotics three times a day for a year, weekly blood test for six months, and bi-monthly for the following six months. He was to have appointments with neurologists and cardiologists. To date, Kade had yet to fulfill any of these instructions because he has surpassed everything they expected. We still have to examine his development but so far Kade is the smartest baby I know (although, I may be biased).

See, God's plan was not to take him early, but to use Kade to show me and Brandon many things. Never before had we ever been brought to our knees in such desperation. We had never known loss until this. We had both lost our jobs and were homeless during that time. We learned total dependence on God. We learned what real worship and prayer was like. We learned how to love on those who are hurting as we were surrounded by many hurting families with their sick babies. We learned that God uses things to bring Him glory even if it doesn't make sense to us.

Now every time I look into Kade's big blue eyes, I thank God. Every time I think things can't be worse, I remember it isn't that bad. Every time I want to complain, I remember to be grateful. And every time I want to doubt God's goodness, I am reminded of His unending love.  

Reflections and illusions

I've been making some life changes when it comes to nutrition and exercise so naturally my thoughts are going to lean in that direction. I was reading a devotional this morning and it brought to mind something I had learned recently. Bear with me. 

In the past whenever I experienced a food craving, I would reach for the food in which I was craving. Sounds logical, right? Well I have learned recently, that it was actually water my body was craving. I had misinterpreted it. When I drink the water instead, my craving is satisfied and I am held over until the appropriate meal or snack time. 

So here's what I'm getting at...

The devotion I was reading was a part of a seven day devotional written by Mike Donehey of Tenth Avenue North. He says, "This one thought changed everything. That every beautiful thing I get enamored by is just a reflection of the One who made it. Any beauty I am dazzled by or promise I'm lured by, it's always Him my soul is hungry for. And when I see that, all other temptations lose their power. To understand all that I love is merely a mirror pointing me upward frees me to let those things go. I don't have to have them, I have to have the One Who made them. And the pleasure and reward His presence offers far surpasses..."

All this time I was focusing on what my heart wanted. For me, I've always struggled on the relationship front. Embarrassed to admit this, but I even became angry when a relationship fell through before it ever took off. I remember a moment filled with pure grief and tears when talking to my mother about it. She said what everyone always says..."it just wasn't God's will." 

I remember the anger I felt when hearing those words. I was tired of it. I'd heard it all my life. I didn't understand why all these other people could be in and out of relationships, go through heart break, get over it and start over again. But then God would never let me get to the starting line. 

I remember shouting on the phone, "I just wish He would let me make a mistake!" How foolish is that?

God was guarding me, protecting me and I wanted nothing to do with it. I believed whole-heartedly that a relationship could satisfy me. The whole time God was quietly saying, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. (John 6:35 NLT)

Those desires, the things we crave so fiercely, are mere reflections of what our soul is craving. It's not about the relationship. It's not about the new car or beautiful house. It's not about a burgeoning business or making your first million. That's all an illusion. You're really craving, needing  the One who created it all. 

This Overflow Devo by Tenth Avenue North can be found on the YouVersion Bible App. 

embrace your weaknesses

If I wanted to boast, I would be no fool in doing so, because I would be telling the truth. But I won’t do it, because I don’t want anyone to give me credit beyond what they can see in my life or hear in my message, even though I have received such wonderful revelations from God. So to keep me from becoming proud, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger from Satan to torment me and keep me from becoming proud. Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:6-10 NLT)

Paul, with great reason, struggled with pride. With an ever growing fan base, I could see it being an easy thing to struggle with. I, on the other hand, struggle with insecurities. 

In this passage, Paul is saying God has given his this "thorn in his side," this "handicap" to keep him grounded. It actually translates to an angel of Satan or demon, but that's another post. 

Pride pushes God out of the picture. He is no longer needed because it is now all about you. In the same way, insecurity pushes God out too. It is saying God is not capable of working through you. This passage is telling us to embrace our weaknesses because through them God is able to accomplish His work in you. 

God says, "My grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness." (MSG)

Humility is that place in between pride and insecurity. It's where you recognize God's sovereignty, power, and authority. Where you give over control and let Him complete His perfect work. 

I love how Paul's words are phrased in The Message: "Now I take my limitations that cut me down to size--abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become."

His goodness

I haven't written in awhile. Partly because I've been focusing on my book and at the end of the day I am just out of words. But suddenly, like a fresh renewal I find myself bursting with thoughts and emotions that I can't contain. Must. Write. 

It's been a crazy whirlwind this year and I must confess, I was defeated. I lost hope. I lost vision. I lost desire to serve. The flame within me had flickered and died. I was so focused on what I was lacking, so consumed by the injustice surrounding me that I lost sight of anything good. 

Well as we sang at church this morning, I focused in on the words of a song I had sung so many times. Only today I grasped onto it and claimed it. 

"I will remain confident in this; I will see the goodness of The Lord."

I decided in that moment enough is enough. I WILL see His goodness! It's time to shake free of the negativity and grab onto the promises of God. 

The speaker at church, Joe Boyd, said sonething that really resonated with me. He said we have to let go of our brokenness in order to reach out and grab hold of what God is offering. 

The speaker asked "what is it that you are holding onto?" For me, it was past failures, insecurities, and basically really stupid stuff. Once I realized that, I felt foolish. God has something more for me, something bigger and better than I can even imagine. He's offering it to me, but my hands are full of past mistakes and regrets. 

I'm choosing to let go. I'm choosing to see His goodness, to lay claim to His promises. 

So...what are YOU holding onto? I can guarantee He has something better. 

my heart

As I've already mentioned, I'm participating in a writing challenge called NaNoWriMo. Its meant to motivate writers to write a novel in a month (50,000 words in 30 days). If I ever want to be a career author, I have to learn to produce quickly. So this is me trying. So far, so good. Staying on goal. It helps to have a story that means so much to me.

As many of you know, I had a boyfriend that died when I was sixteen. I struggled for many years with depression, weighed down by the heavy weight of grief. It will be fifteen years this June since his death and up until a couple years ago I still mourned the loss of him. That's not to say I don't still, but what I was experiencing wasn't healthy. I didn't talk to many people about it because I didn't see it as a problem.

When I was approaching my twenty-ninth birthday, I went into a near panic over the loss of my twenties and how much of the decade I had wasted. I realized that I let the memory of Andy overwhelm my life. I had used him as a scapegoat, as an excuse for my bitterness, for my depression. I realized I had built his memory up in my mind, made it into something bigger than it ever was. And I got to the point where I said enough is enough. Not any more.

So when I received a message from a friend on March 6th saying it was Andy's birthday, I was happy. I had forgotten and that had made me so happy that tears came to my eyes. I knew that I had finally moved on. I began to think back on him, realistically and not through the rose colored glasses I had worn. He would have been thirty-three. Hard to imagine, since he's forever frozen at the age of eighteen. I began to imagine what he would have been like if he hadn't died on that Sunday afternoon.

He had always been obnoxious, stubborn, hard-headed. I had just chosen to forget those things. We fought all the time. Were apart more than we were together. He was a great guy, an amazing Christian, but the more I thought about it the more I realized he was a sucky boyfriend. We were awful together. We never would have lasted like I had imagined.

With my new found clarity I realized I had a story to write. Not about Andy, although he has greatly influenced it. But my story. The story of my journey past grief and bitterness. My story of pain and loss. My wake up call and long overdue growth.

My characters are only influenced by the emotions I once felt. The story pure fiction, but its a play on my favorite game "What if..." Too often we play that game, living in the past, wondering about the future, considering the possibilities. It's a fun game, but sometimes dangerous. Just as my main character has found. She believes her dreams have been stolen from her, her only chance at true love stripped from her. If only he hadn't died, she would be happy. They would be happy. Life would be perfect. She gets a taste of that life and realizes it isn't all she imagined it would be.

So as thunder rumbles around me, clouds threaten rain, and the sound of acoustic guitar plays from my Pandora station, I write. I write my heart, my pain. I write about what I thought were shattered dreams. And as I write, I fulfill my new dreams.

think on these things

Yesterday at church, the pastor spoke on Philippians 4 and the mind. He said you are what you think.

I just started Weight Watchers, and it seems the moment "diet" becomes a part of my active vocabulary every high-calorie thing begins to dance through my mind. I'm not talking about a flitter-flutter by, I'm talking pizza doing the Dougie, ice cream doing some line dancing, and Reeses' doing the wobble-baby-uh.

I'm guessing the pastors words would explain the one pound weight gain this week. I suppose I should start thinking about skinny people food. Have I stumbled across a dieting secret hidden in the book of Philippians?

Whatsoever things are lean. Whatsoever things are leafy. Whatsoever things are bland. Whatsoever things are healthy. Think on these things. 

I'm bored already.

Anyways, in recent news...

I've got nothing. Just the weight gain :) 

I am making some serious progress on my latest manuscript! Yay! Which explains why WW at this time is such a bad idea. See diagram to the left for details.

And just for the fun of it...Here's an instructional video for all of you who are curious as to how one would combine line dancing with the wobble baby :) Enjoy.

characters

I can vividly remember the night Friends came to an end. My mom wouldn't let me watch it, so I had to sneak it when she wasn't watching. I also played major catch up once I went to college. The night of the finale, it was just mom and I, and I looked at her and said "tonight I'm watching it no matter what." She shrugged and let me explain why I loved the show and just what all she had missed out on during the ten years it was on.

I remember crying at the end and telling my mom "it's like saying goodbye to my best friends." I know I'm not the only one who felt that way! For ten years, Ross and Rachel took us on an emotional roller coaster with their relationship, Joey and Chandler made us laugh until we though we would wet our pants, Phoebe created songs we just couldn't escape, and well Monica was Monica and we still loved her.

The creators of the show created such believable characters, that they truly became a part of our lives. Characters you never forget. Characters that you know so well that you can guess what they would do before they even did it. Characters that you grow to love and cherish long after they've gone.

I've been working on characterization this week. There was a guest author that took part in a forum this week that I participate in. She shared with us some lessons on creating believable characters. I agreed with a lot of what she said, but some of it sounded foreign to me.

At one point she suggested I have a conversation with my characters and let them tell me what they are like and why they do what they do. I do catch myself conversing with myself from time to time, but I don't know if I'm ready to have conversations with people I've imagined and created. But it's obviously worked for her, so what can I say.

Outside of talking with my characters, I've begun to get to know them. I've used character worksheets that detail a character's history and background, likes and dislikes, regrets, dreams, home life, etc. It's amazing watching your characters come to life before your eyes. Who knows...I may become even more eccentric and take my character to Starbucks for a conversation...Nope, still not happening.

Wonder if David Crane and Marta Kauffman ever had conversations with their Friends. I bet Joey was a blast to converse with!

this is me

For years, I've tried to plot and plan my way to a writing career. I thought if I just finished college and stored up enough information, I would feel qualified to write. Then I graduated and still felt inadequate. I struggled and warred with this vision of what I thought I wanted to write. I had such lofty goals and aspirations. No wonder I felt so unable to accomplish them.

I figured I needed to start somewhere. I needed to get my feet wet. I wanted to begin with something I felt comfortable writing. I grew up with my grandma telling me "dream and dream BIG!" I took her literally and started penning my dreams at a young age. I decided this would be a good way for me to learn more about my writing style, the techniques, the tricks, etc.

So two years ago, I began the story of Calla and Max, a dream that had began when I was a little girl. I remember being so enamored by the story of Princess Anastasia of Russia. The idea of a lost princess struck a chord with me then. I would dream that I was a lost princess! I decided it was time to give her the happy ending she deserved through the story of Calla.

Sheepishly, I kept details of what I was writing a secret for a long time. To be honest, I was a little embarrassed. I was writing a novel about a princess, a far cry from those lofty goals I had fooled myself into believing I wanted. But the more I wrote, the more I realized this is me.

I write fiction. I write romance. And it makes me happy. Maybe someday I'll graduate to something that has a deeper message, something that has a grander impact on the world. But I have decided not to push it. My stories are mindless fun, meant only to entertain, and provide an escape from the harshness of everyday life.

I know this isn't for everyone, and I've come to terms that most of the people I have listed as FB "friends" will never read my book...if it's ever published. I've also realized that many who do, will be surprised by what I've written. I'm writing for me now. Writing what makes me happy. No longer pressuring myself to be something I'm not. Just trying to be me and write my dreams.

NaNoWriMo

As many of you already know from my facebook status, I have finally completed the rough draft stage of my first novel. I don't even want to calculate just how long I have been working on this one. I started it in Georgia. Did a little here, a little there, a lot in Idaho, some more in Massachusetts, but most of it in Florida. (I like to think of my travels as research).

It has been a long, long, long process so far, and from what I hear its only just getting good. I have a couple close friends and family members looking it over for me before I begin the editing process. I'm hoping, if I work really hard, I can have it submitted to publishers by April.

Just because I've finally finished this book that I took way too long to write, doesn't mean I get a break. No, no, no. You've gotta strike while the iron is hot! There's this website/community called NaNoWriMo...National Novel Writing Month. Every November they challenge people to write a 50k word novel in 30 days. That's 1,667 words a day.

Well, they have these "camps" throughout the year that prepare for the main event in November and well, I'm going to participate. Starting April 1st, I'm going to try and write a novel in a month.

So if any of you out there have any interest in writing, join me. Take the challenge. It doesn't have to be a work of fiction. It's more about setting a goal and surrounding yourself with the support needed to reach your goal.

my future Oscar nom and current manuscript

I'm applying for grad school...English and Creative Writing. I'm wicked excited about it. I'll learn the fundamentals of English and Creative Writing obviously, but also will get an education in publishing, editing, and wait for it...screenwriting. Woo-hoo! I can see it now...me at the Oscars...bumping into Hollywood's elite! Do you think Tom Hardy will be there?

Sorry. Got a little carried away there.

I have to prepare a sample of my work for the application process. I've been growing frustrated with my current manuscript. I had completely lost interest in it lately. It's like reading the same book over and over again for a year. I just want to finish it and start the next one.

Well, I decided to go over the first few pages of it in order to submit it. I haven't read the beginning in a while, and it's like I fell in love all over again. I finally remembered why I started writing it in the first place. I feel so renewed right now!

Thought I'd share.

Russian AND Scottish accent

I've been immersing myself in my writing. I want to be at a 50k word count by March 1st, so every day I push myself to write, write, write.

Who cares if the scenes don't flow. I'll piece it together when I edit and revise. You know I'll be chopping it up anyways.

I'm writing a romance novel. Gotta start somewhere. It's fun and short and makes me happy.

Certain things help keep me focused and inspired. One of them being music. Everyone knows music can inspire and move people. Certain songs evoke certain feelings and I find myself at my computer typing away.

However, when I am actually writing I can't listen to music with words. I start focusing on the words and get distracted. Next thing you know, I'm on pinterest. Ooh! That site gets me every time!

I really like writing with music from movie soundtracks playing in the background. The more intense, the better. Sometimes I find myself constructing an intense shooting scene or car bombing and realize I've been listening to Bourne Supremacy.  My music choices have influenced my writing and taken away from the romantic aspect of my book. I like it anyways.

I love Pirates of the Caribbean because it has a nice rhythm. I find myself typing to the rhythm. If the music gets slow and sad, I begin to get slow and sad.

Another trick I've learned is to act out my dialogue. They say it keeps your dialogue believable. So here I am  home alone listening to the Pirates of the Caribbean and acting out my scenes.

Let me just add that one of my characters is an old Greek woman. My accent needs much work and sounds more Russian mixed with Scottish, if you can imagine.

I'm struggling to come up with words she might use. Slang words or authentic Greek words that make her character believable. If anyone's got any ideas I'd love to hear them.

Wright the Writer, ha cheesy!

Lately, I've been working on my novel. It's zapping me of all my creative energy. I've felt guilty for not paying more attention to my blog.

Most of my time is spent writing. I joined a writer's group and stated my goals in order to be held accountable. So I figured I'd do the same here. My first goal is to have my manuscript finished by March 1st. I am so excited that it's almost finished. I just need people to keep me focused. And knowing that I've told all of you will keep me accountable.

I've heard from other writers and read in articles that publishers look to see if you have an audience in place (ie, blog or website). Who knew I was ahead of things? I know I have some faithful readers...even when I haven't been so faithful of a writer. So share my blog. Follow my blog. Do whatever you've got to do :)  I promise I'll write more for you, maybe even give you an excerpt from my book!

Love you all, and so grateful to have so many wonderful readers!