Missing In Action

Wow, long time, no post.  Yes, that's me.  I know, I could tell you that the moon was full and I got lost in the woods, which you would know was a lie.  OR, I could tell you that I became the monster I do every month and my husband locked me in the dungeon.  You might believe that one, especially the men, but that too would be a lie.  So Truth?  I've been cramming to finish my latest masterpiece.  (Okay, maybe I'm the only one who thinks it's a masterpiece, but, Hey, I'm a writer, I'm entitled.)  Anywho, off the subject.  I've missed my once a week, have to get it done, whether I like it or not blog.  So, instead of hitting you with my latest paranormal muse, I'm giving you my scarier version.

I'm not a great cook, okay, not even a good cook.  So, I'm trying to not make a dry turkey this year.  Good luck with that, right?  Well I have it on good authority if you brine your turkey it makes it better.  So I opted for that this year.   First of all you need a turkey, no prob.  Ran to the store and got that right off.  I guess I should have asked what else you needed before I left, would have saved me two, no three, all right four more trips to the store.  The hardest thing to find? Well, besides Kosher salt,( I think everyone must be brining a turkey this year) finding a five gallon bucket.  Where do you get a five gallon bucket.  I have several, but my husband said that he refuses to eat a turkey brined in one of my horse buckets.  So, off I go to the store to find a bucket.  I thought, "No sweat, piece of cake."  Once again, did I mention everyone must be brining a turkey this year?  So, stopping at four different places to find a bucket, I finally found one of the last three in town.  No kidding.  Maybe hubby wouldn't have noticed if I used one of the horse buckets.

So, at last the turkey is in the bucket, soaking its little body and hoping to be juicy for tomorrow.  I'll let you know how it turns out. 

Have a happy Thanksgiving everyone.  Eat lots, sleep all afternoon, or watch the football games.  Be grateful you have a roof over your head and a flat screen on your wall.

Hugs to you all,
Joy

The Day After

All the little monsters made the rounds last night.  They were so cute in their costumes.  I remember the days I used to dress up and sit outside to scare them.  One year I was a demon, another Pumpkin head, (that scared the crap out of them) and of course there were years when I was my favorite monster, the werewolf.  Now I'm older, but not any wiser.  I could write about all those little darlings and their adventures, but alas, my current project is too demanding.  Anyway, I digress.  The scariest night of the year is over, and hence I'm left wondering what's left for the paranormal realm.  Do we resort to the monsters under the bed?  Or do we talk about other subjects.  I'm always up for something new.

So, to start anew, I thought I'd talk about the scariest thing of all, at least for us writers, putting you manuscript out there in the big, bad, publishing and agent world.  There's more bad than good in this.  You send out queries and wait for the dreaded rejection letters.  Is that a bad thing, or a good thing.  Well, it can be both.  I have to admit that the stories we writers conjure up, become our babies, in a real sense.  We want to protect them and keep them safe from anyone who might want to chop them up, disect them, rearrainge their entire bodies.  Now that sounds ghoulish, doesn't it.  But truth be told, it's not always a bad thing.

A manuscript might, as much as we think it's perfect just the way we made it, resemble Frankenstien's monster.  I wouldn't want to kiss him, would you?  All right, now that we've established he's not very attractive, how can we complain when someone wants to work on him with us.  A great doctor once told me, I can take any face and make it beautiful.  Well that's what we all want, isn't it?  Someone who's talented and capable to take our baby and make it beautiful.  Editors, agents, and even publishers can do just that.  If we're willing to take the critism and use it to better ourselves. 

What once was a mildly cute baby, or maybe a monster, becomes the most beautiful thing to not only us, but everyone involved.  It's hard to hear that what you've created might not be exactly what you thought it was, but we all have room for improvement, don't we?  Of course we do.  So send those letters out and hope for the worst to happen, the rejections, or the rejections with the ideas to make your story really shine.  Maybe you might even get lucky and someone really wants it.  Then you dance for joy (ha-ha) and get down to making all the changes with vigor and vim.  Just remember everyone has your best interest at heart.  So send away, dear friends.  And remember that even a moster can become a prince. 

Happy writing.