BOOK NEWS!

WHOOP!

I have news! 

I am so excited to tell you about this. 

Can you tell!?!

I might be using more exclamation points than are allowed for a few weeks

because...

TWO MORE BOOKS!!!

 Ah. I am exuberant. 

I am ecstatic. 

Thank you, Molly O'Neill and Root Literary,

thank you, Nikki Garcia and Little, Brown 

for believing in this story and in me!  

So much of this joy is thanks to my agent Molly O'Neill, 

who talked me through the finishing of my first book 

(THE STARKEEPER which comes out with Random House in June!) 

and helped me face the beginnings of another one!  

Thanks to Molly, I found out that while making book number two is HARD!, 

hard is not necessarily a bad thing. 

See, if we didn't struggle, the end result wouldn't be so victorious. 

Which is sort of how PERFECTLY IMPERFECT MIRA has made her way here!

I can't wait for you to meet MIRA. 

This story is kind of about being a work in progress, 

and learning to love the journey of becoming. 

Which is something that feels very familiar to me. 

 Another fun thing is that during the time this story was in revision,  

 I took a writing course with Jolie Stekly "MINDSET MEETS CRAFT." 

MIRA's story is so much about mindset, and revision, too. 

When I had a stroke, then heart surgery, and other life surprises   - 

each time, I felt thrown for a loop. 

That was not the direction I planned. 

That was not the way my road was supposed to go.

 Or was it? 

Because if I hadn't had the stroke and kind of lost my way into writing, 

I wouldn't have taken a WRITING WITH PICTURES course, 

which opened up my heart to illustration and stories 

in a way I'd never dreamed of being able to do.

So, here's to the journey, my friends! 

Here's to the blooms that can come out of hard things. 

- and sometimes the blooms that come because of hard things! 

And here's to the work, day and night, 

learning!

growing!

revising!

 

Hooray! 

Postcards and clever cows

Guess what came in the mail? 
Here's a hint: they rhyme with "host-guards" and "wizness-bards."

Don't they look exciting?

I'm pretty smitten with the packaging from Moo.
I think they know about the little party that happens whenever new cards come.
Happy dance. Confetti.
They even send encouraging little notes that say things like, "you're delightful."

And can you see the cutest little business card box ever?
Even the postcards come in their own box.
Genius.

My husband heard me squealing to the postcard boxes,
"You are so cute! You are so clever! I love you. You are fabulous!"
He thought I was talking to my art.
Nope, just the gorgeous packaging. 
And I do love the way my cards look and feel,
so I suppose I was cheering for me, too.

Well done, Moo.
But maybe I'll keep my crowing in until everyone's asleep.  

PERspecTIVE

My family took me to the fair when I was four. It was hugely full of smells and colors and sounds. I wanted to see the horses, so I went, oblivious that my people had gone a different direction.
All I could see were shoes and legs.
Being lost is the end of everything when you're four.
Suddenly, a gangly person balanced on the tallest wooden legs I had ever seen was promising to help me find my people.

Perspective.

When you are suddenly lifted on stilts above the four year-old's view of feet and legs, everything feels better.




Perspective is my theme this week.

I was feeling a little lost after news of my novel submission -
several rejections so far, and more submissions and waiting.
I had a glorious pity party: threw cake and popped balloons,
"What makes you think you're cut out to be a writer anyway?"
and other cheerful motivational talks,
when I felt a little tug.





A reminder of November 2009.
Our daughter "Pip" had to have a bundle of tests to search for cancer.
This while also waiting to hear if cutbacks would be affecting my husband's job.

And after tense, heavy weeks of waiting, we had completely beautiful news:
a healthy daughter.
And Mr. Pray got to keep his job.

If I can be thankful for the good things and the great things
I will be lifted on stilts,

to see that even when times are rough,
there are sacred moments to hang on to.
That when the view seems narrow
or small or confusing or wretched,
there is a bigger picture at work.
Bigger hands that can lift us up. That's my hope.

And as far as the rejections go, I will try to remember that this is one tiny keyhole of the big picture.

Heart Lessons

My novel is on submission with news expected from my agent soon.
I am a wobbly mess of nerves,
and am trying to keep my mind occupied and my heart light.
So yesterday I taught the girls how to cut out hearts.



I tried to let them help with the sewing and
ended up breaking a needle and losing it somewhere
into the depths of the machine.
But now we have more happy hearts to give away.


And a new prize to add to The Writer Games loot.



This is what it's all about. Having fun with the people you love.
And trying not to growl at them when they break your sewing machine.

Empty Novel Syndrome?

So my novel is being sent around to different publishers by my agent, Rubin Pfeffer of East/West Literary Agency. It's a very thrilling thing.

But I'm wondering.

I said "go out and make your way in the world," and my novel is grown and gone. This six-year world is suddenly empty and I find myself curiously lonely and puzzled.

What do I write now?

Surely those of you who have experienced this know just what to do. You had another manuscript on the back burner. You had several. You're working on your tri-quels. But this is all very new to me. Never wrote a long story before. Never thought anyone would want to see it.

I kind of miss my characters, my places, my plot.

Maybe this is what Empty Nest Syndrome feels like.