Mine Has...Has Yours? (UPDATED)

So, it turns out that school vacation and ICLW don't really make for a great combo what with kids wanting my undivided attention and all...but PROMISE if have or do leave me a comment I'll be sure to reciprocate!!!**

Anyway - do you remember this recent post of Mel's? Yeah the one with the near midnight euphoria at holding a copy of her very own book - published - and everything!

And, do you also recall her big news that the release date has been moved up - to May 1st!

Well - imagine my surprise when I checked my email about three minutes ago and saw this:

"Greetings from Amazon.com.We thought you'd like to know that we shipped your items, and that this completes your order....

1 Navigating the Land of If:... Shipped via USPS"

Yuppers - it's on its way to my hot little hands!!! And, may potentiall arrive BEFORE May 1st!!

Hey - Mel - Congrats, again. Your hard work, 'fitting your job around the needs of your family' has paid off, big time.

** UPDATED TO ADD THAT I JUST BUSTED THROUGH 50 ICLW POSTS...*WHEW* YOU ALL HAVE SOME EXCITING STUFF GOING ON!

-Versary, Part 4 - The Finale

HELLO ILCW -THIS IS THE JOURNEY OF MY WRITING CAREER IN SECTIONS. AT TIMES THE STORY FEELS UNREAL TO ME, EVEN NOW. TO CATCH UP:

PART 1 IS HERE
PART 2 IS HERE
PART 3 IS HERE

This is Part Four: The Finale

And that - my friends - is where the fairytale took a sharp right hand turn and slammed into a tree. Have you ever seen an enchanted carriage crippled by branches?? Not pretty.

There was work to be done - a lot of work, to the manuscript that had flowed out of me like sap on a warm day in March. The first 'noted' draft I received from my agent had more red slashed through it, virtual red - but same difference, than I had ever seen. And the 'necessary revisions' on the book proposal?? Too many to recall.

Sure, I hadn't aced every paper I'd ever written. I had seen some 'suggestions for improvement' and even some criticism in the past, but on the whole writing came easy and needed little revision. Heck - I was that gal who wrote unassigned reports...say on, oh - I don't know, canoeing - during her summer vacation ... just because.

I reeled. Staring at my manuscript hacked and slashed was a first. I guess the clock had struck midnight when I wasn't listening.

I am big enought to admit that I mourned my 'failure' for a few days. I moped, just a little - but enough to cause my husband to ask me, "what the heck is wrong?" Getting derailed like that was traumatic, to a degree, but then I snapped to and realized - No! What happened eight and half years ago was traumatic. That was devestating, life altering, and persona changing.

This? Well, it was just a roadblock. A potential for growth. An opportunity to learn something even more about myself and my style as a writer.

Once I picked up the remenance of the broken carriage and collected myself, it was obvious why many writers - and good ones - never get their stuff published. They refuse to budge from their 'best' stuff for anyone. They let their ego get in the way of finding something really spectacular within their minds and their words.

"I will not be one of those writers." I said to my husband those few days later, "I will write and re-write and edit and re-edit this until it truly is my best work." Only then will I go to bat for my story. I will know when I have reached that point.

And I did. But that's not all I did, for as often happens when someone is on the right path during the right time of their life - all forces converge to open lots of doors and make.good.stuff.happen!

Teaming with my agent was a good start - but it wasn't enough. I had to connect with the writing world, hence - writers; and furthermore - readers...

I started this blog, then another, then another...it was adicting, this writing thing - every day creating something that others might actually enjoy reading.

I happened upon a short blurb in the LFCA, announcing an idea for a infertility / loss magazine. That idea has become a tremendous reality - Exhale is thriving and I am so proud to have been one of the first to jump on board!

I talked my husband into starting a non-profit corporation to support other families who lived and will live the tragedy we did years ago. It has completed me in a way I never knew I needed completing.

And still - I wrote, for the book is what pulled me, challenged me to grow and recognize where my grief journey has taken me, and it is not to the side of the road picking up pieces of a wrecked carriage while wearing the same forlorn clothes and expression I did all those years ago.

I entitled this series -Versary, mostly because I didn't have a good prefice to put there. But it makes perfect sense to me now. For each section of this year, a quarterly accomplishment, if you will - signifies something magical for me.

Three Months...was my fairytale in action

Six Months...brought me to the blogworld, the world of magazines and support systems and life long friends based on words and shared experiences.

Nine Months ... taught me that growth isn't always pretty. In fact, it can be pretty ugly before its true beauty is revealed.

Today - a year later - as I pull some of that early work for a sentence here or a topic there, it's inadequacy is obvious. It was beginning work. A good beginning, but a novel start to be sure. Even here, in this blog - my space, I can go back to the start and see a shift in my style.

And the book? Oh has it shifted - but each re-write was a step I had to take. Each edit opened my eyes to new outlines and structures that seamlessly blend what I need to say with what the reader needs to hear.

And the proposal? It's been re-worked a few times too. But I truly believe that the propsal, as it exists now - is the product I have been working towards.

Every journey has it's potholes. They are there for a good reason. I am ready to step up to the plate - and swing - big.

-Versary, Part 3: Finding My Agent

THIS IS THE JOURNEY OF MY WRITING CAREER IN SECTIONS. AT TIMES THE STORY FEELS UNREAL TO ME, EVEN NOW.

TO CATCH UP:

PART 1 IS HERE
PART 2 IS HERE

THIS IS PART THREE:

Sometimes what you think you need isn't what will make the difference.
Sometimes you need to keep your eyes open to other possibilities...


I paced the isle in B.arn.es and N.ob.le for the fifth time, sure that this time the book highlighted on my 'must get to take my next step' list would just pop out at me, miraclously appearing where before nothing had stood.

But, no - nothing, again.

"It's not here" I said alound, accepting the trip as fruitless. Moving slowly now, as the last whisps of frantic steam had just dissapated, I turned - and saw the book. No, not the one I thought I needed, but another with a title speaking directly to my mission...Jeff Herman's Guide To Book Publishers, Editors, & Literary Agents 2008: Who They Are! What They Want! How To Win Them Over!


I carried it to the counter with humble apologizing fingers stroaking it's spine, like a protaganist in the mist of her epiphany my actions said, I'm sorry for not realizing that you were the book, all along.


It was the best money I ever spent and time - for I combed the literary agent section with fervor, then dissected every entry: who the person was, what they liked to represent, how they preferred to be contacted, if they wanted just the query letter or part of the proposal as well. By the end of July, 2008 that book had more astericks, circles, and x's pockmarked throughout it's pages than a well-read bible. But I had done it. I had narrowed my possible agent selections to the top 12 - the ladies I felt would be most receptive to the kind of book I was writing.


And then, I made my favorite thing in the whole world, a spreadsheet; achievement and affirmation running through me with each checkmark I made representing the moment I hit ENTER, effectively sending my request through the phantom ethers that is my email.


I held my breath, unsure it was real. Had I made all this up? Could it truly be possible that three months ago I had an idea, and today I stood with 12 query letters submitted to literary agents and a 100 page proposal ready at a moments notice for those who wanted to read it?


Within 24 hours she responded.


Within weeks I signed the agency agreement.


I found her and she's perfect: honest and direct, dedicated and supportive. Like the glass slipper she fit seamlessly. My Cinderella story rolled on...

-Versary

One year ago inspiration struck.

Late September I Showed and Tell-ed about it, in the process reccomending a book that I truly feel everyone can take something from. (sorry - you'll have to click over to see :)

What did I take? Well - last April on a drippy Friday night I read the last page, closed the book and uncurled my legs from their frozen, almost-prickling position. This book, this writer, it threw me back, way back. I allowed the tears to stream, expecting to plummet over the far too familiar waterfall. Instead, a surprise emotion appeared in the water. Inspiration attached itself, following the current of tears, leading me gently downstream ...to my computer.

One year ago I began my book, this manuscript that has provided me pause on more than one occasion. But not in the beginning. From the onset my new idea blasted down the track like a steam engine out of control. I was working full time, waitressing, studying for my upcoming interpreter exam, - but I wrote. Oh, how I wrote long hours into the night without a care for time which melted away with the clattering sound of the keys leaving me in a meditative-like state.

Story poured out of me, memory by vision, some - first time recollections finally pushing their way through the filtered barrier built eight years ago. Emma sat with me. I could feel her smile, encouraging me to tell the whole truth, "be authentic" I heard as another day began and my fingers slowed, "this book is for your healing - and others".

And then, there was the research. Book writing was one thing, but book selling was quite another. As the summer approached I became a collector of all books writing related: How to write a book proposal, Finding The Perfect Agent for You, Non-Fiction at it's best...and so on. I devoured library's memoir sections for comparisons. I struggled with the "Author Background" section for it should really be headlined: "Self-Promotion", but I did it. I sifted through statistics for marketing, I presented my most creative ideas for the actual promotion section and rallied my friends to help me think of notable, strong women who had been through a loss and may be willing to review the book.

And there it was - a 100 page book proposal - as thick and heavy as a nice warm blanket resting on my dining room table, in July...

Three months, a third of a pregnancy, and I had the makings of a book...

TO BE CONTINUTED...SOON

Life Linguistics

UPDATED: THIS IS MY 100TH POST! I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE UNTIL AFTER IT WAS POSTED. THEN, I REALIZED IT WAS A VERY APPROPRIATE FIT: A POST ABOUT WHERE THE BLOG AND I HAVE COME OVER THE LAST 4 MONTHS AND WHERE WE ARE GOING FROM HERE!

Thank you to all of you for your your heartfelt comments on the last post in response to the RH article. My two worlds ARE colliding and my real life one is exploding.

"Man! Your wife is famous!" the cashier at the local building supply store said to Jeremiah as he hoisted a bucket of mud to the counter.** (famous is a very relative term as I live in a TINY little town)

He shrugged. "You saw the paper, huh?"

Everybody has and that was the point right? The ultimate goal here was TO GET THE WORD OUT and start helping people. But, I have to admit -- the phone ringing off the hook, my inbox being flooded with responses and my Share Southern Vermont to-do list growing by the hour IS a tad overwhelming.

So, I feel led to write this post. I do not believe that it is a linguistic conincidence that responsibility, accountability, and priority rhyme. They are interconnected in the most intimate sense.

RESPONSIBILITIES: I have many, and yes --they are all a result of my own doing. Regardless I take them very seriously, and so I map them out for you here.

• My family (they do like to wear clean clothes - occasionally)
• Growing Share Southern Vermont (SSV)
• Writing a thought provoking column for Exhale Magazine
• Completing my book proposal and Selling the book!
• Distributing Memory Boxes to families

ACCOUNTABILITY: I feel accountible not only to myself, but to you. You, both my bloggy friends and IRL supporters are the reason I have made it this far in the journey. I know how important it is to stay "well" within myself and so I break down this action into two steps.

TO SELF:

• Make time for meditation and exercise
• Finish each day pleased with whatever I have managed to accomplish

TO YOU:

• Stay current with my google reader. I have enjoyed following each one of your stories and watching as you grow within your grief. I don't want to lose that even as my life demands more of me here. I will do my absolute best to stay current, but if you don't see my mug pop up for a few days...don't worry -- I'll Be Back!!!
• Segragate my topics. Once again this blog is become home to so much more than my continued grief journey of Emma Grace. Soon you will see a post about a blog dedicated JUST to SSV! Once that is complete, you will have the choice to click to my grief blog, my parenting-after-loss blog, my angel wall, OR my Share Southern Vermont blog!

PRIORITIES: It feels like time to prioritize. I won't be able to run an effective non-profit if I don't. I won't be able to attend to every part of my life, every day. That is a fact I have to accept. (read: NOT easy for me to accept and even HARDER to do)

Again, THANK YOU to all of you for your never-ending support. WE will make a difference. I just have to take it slow...one effective step at a time.

** If you read the article then you know my families real names. So, the cat is out of the bag, as they say. Even so, I'll still be using Bear and Comedian cause...well - their just too cute to let go!

What hat do I wear today?

"Thank you so much for choosing (this bank) to begin your Share Southern Vermont account. We looking forward to working with you. By the way, what do you do for a living?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. Bear sat next to me, drawing, creating another five year old masterpiece. I looked at her, then back at the employee, "I am..." Again, I hesitated, so she inquired "Are you a stay at home mom?"

"Y-es." I said, clearly unsure, then quickly added, "And, I am a writer."

Saying this outloud has been a gift I haven't given myself this year. The facts all point to it:

• I spend most of my days on the computer
• I spend most of those same days with pajama bottoms passing as clothes.
• Coffee is always close.
• I'm mentally deprived if a day goes by without some kind of creative writing exercise.
• I think in opening sentences, segways and smooth retoric
• I'm not getting paid for any of it
• Oh, and yes, there is that column I write for Exhale Magazine and that manuscript my agent is selling.

Certainly sounds like the life of a writer, doesn't it? So why can't I just open my mouth and smile as I say, with pride, with affection for what I do, "I am a writer"?

It could be because I have been, because I am so many things. I am a Teacher of the Deaf. I am an Interpreter for the Deaf. I am starting a Share Southern Vermont group. I am an advocate for grieving families. I am a certified Reading Recovery teacher.

But, this year I am not teaching. I am not interpreting. I am home.

I think my inner struggle for labels is because I am home. Inanimate objects call to me. The laundry yells, "I'm still sitting here in the pile. How long would it take you to throw me in the washer?" The dishes squeak, "We are getting dried out. It will take you twice as long if you wait until later." The dust bunnies? I'm not even going to tell you what they say, it's not blogworthy. So, even as my hand hit the keys in a, click - clack - clickity-clack pattern, my guilt for not attending to the other pieces of my life builds.

Last year I taught full time. I wasn't here. The fact that my body wasn't present in my house all day as laundry, dishes and dust mocked me somehow made it easier to walk back into the house and find it in the same state. Now, I close my eyes and envision clean, crisp rooms that are clutter free and smell fresh every second of the day. But (and here is the good part) I do nothing to maintain the blissful status of our home. I mearly walk through each welcoming room to reach, my brand new ergonomic office chair (on my xmas wish list), crack my knuckles (yup - I really do) and breath deep as I look at the Angel Wall.

And then, I work. I write. Hence, I am a writer. But, I am also a mother. A driver of carpools, a packer of lunches. A rescue van when a child is sick at school, a scheduler and executer of doctors appointments. A cooker of dinner and, yes, a cleaner of the house.

Truth time? I often fantasize a world where I function very much like Carrie from Sex and the City. The world is my oyster, although I have no great love for shoes. Regardless, I would write when the perfect mood struck over a cocktail at an unmentionable hour. I would explore new ideas while walking the streets in a contemplative and introspective state. And, of course, the answer would always come, the last line - with just the right witty pun to leave the reader thinking, chewing for hours on my most recent ideas.

Reality time? That's not going to happen.

I am all the things I said and more. And, I am not balanced. I do not strive for balance for I know it only makes me feel more lopsided when I don't achieve it. I am, however, blessed for all my responsibility, for it allows me to grow into who I am becoming, after the loss of my Emma Grace.

It really bit me, this writing bug. It is part of my being now and I know it is the piece I was missing as I set and achieved every goal, then moved on.

This feels good. It feels right, flooding me with motivation, passion and desire to make a difference.

So, just in case you were about to ask...I AM A WRITER.

Our Worldly Connections

When people ask me, "How are you writing this book so quickly?" my answer is, "I swear it is writing itself. It is like Emma is sitting next to me enouraging every word on every page". It really does feel like that. From a logical point of view, she is next to me as I always write with her scrapbook opened to the gorgeous 8 x 10 image of my baby girl. (If I ever get a scanner that works I'll share it with you!) But, aside from the obvious physical representations of her I still hold dear, odd things happen when I write.

I have always been forthright about the hard-to-swallow fact that there are chunks of time and specific days recounted for me, that I have completely blacked out. Bits and pieces come back to me when someone is very detailed in their description, but it is a forced memory and doesn't stay long.

In addition - before I lost Emma I didn't put much stock in this "world-to-world" connection stuff. I was a hard core you gotta see it and touch it to believe it. After she flew it took me a while to accept the feeling / sensing connection, but Emma is part of me (not to mention persistant and patient with me) and so I came to see what was real and true in my life, using all my senses.

I have to admit for the first year I was addicted to the John Edwards show. I would dream about going on the show and having him single me out on the first round..."Ohhhh" he would say sporting a seriously intense look on his face, "I feel a STRONG presance around you. Your daughter, right? An infant...Yes, she wants you to know that her death was always part of the plan and she is with you all the time." And just when I thought he was done and dissolved into tears, he would add, "E. I see the letter E. She insits that I tell you she is proud of the work you have done to deal with your grief." Indulgant? Of course, we all want to hear the words that we believe will settle our heart, but that is the beautiful part of fantasy...we get - exactly that!

Anyway, lately, when I arrive home from dropping the girls to their respective schools and open the computer, time disintegrates and my surroundings become hazy. It is like a portal exists in my dining room (for that is where I do the bulk of my writing as the office is too messy...I'm working on it!) and when the time portal opens I am back in 2000 re-living the pregnancy, discovery of her death, and delivery of our first daughter. Ok, maybe that's not so odd for writers, I mean, you do have to immerse yourself in the storyline regardless of it's basis in fact or fiction, but here is where the really odd stuff happens.

I'll be writing along occasionally amazed by the speed that a thought can fly through me and take form on the screen, and my fingers take off. They develop a mind of their own (or of a spirit in the chair next to me) and begin creating text that had not passed through the mental scanner I like to call "my brain". This all happens in the span of seconds and when I stop to look at what I have written I am shocked to see that names I could not recall have appeared on the page, hospital scenes I only vaguely remember are mapped out in intense detail, and insights between mother and child appear that are so novel to me, they bring tears.

I don't think publishers go for dual authorship when the second party is deceased so I'm not even going to approach it with them, but with you, the circle of other "dead baby mothers" (by the way I love that you call yourselves that with pride!) with you I will always share the credit for my words with Emma Grace. I know sceptics might challenge me and say that my perspective of the events are skewed by maternal love and grief, but they would be wrong! I know what I know and she is with me when I write. She is around us often (see previous posts - "The Burning Bush" and "The Eve") but when the room is filled with only the computer and classical music, our connection is stronger, fueled by a dual desire to reach out and spare other hurting mothers even one second of their pain.

Emma has a message she has shared with me and it is my job to share it with the world, or at least with the population of the world who is ready to hear it. To the skeptics, I say "Be skeptical, but it will only keep you from really living in this world for YOUR perspective is the only one that matters. Mine keeps my heart wide open at all times!"

I tell you tonight...believe.

Reading and Writing

On September 1st I started this blog. Today is September 13th and I struggle to imagine it has only been twelve days since I became this 'blogger'. Honestly, On August 25th I didn't even know what a 'blog' was and six days later, through a friends need, I read my first one. (Yes - that is why I have an annoucement in red for first time bloggers! I didn't know you read from the bottom up!)



But here I am, two weeks later, thinking, acting, and creating like a real-life-rootin-tootin ...blogger! And my deepest emotion is gratitude. I am so grateful to finally find the place I searched for eight years ago (and MAN DID I SEARCH!) packed with women who "get it" so deeply they ofter have answers that the so-called professionals seemed stumped by. I am insanely blessed to find a network of women who live and grieve, cry and revel in their children ( both dead and alive), and most of all - I LOVE that anything goes. I love that one day you can be internal and introspective and people are good with that, but then next you can rage about some injustice that the world has done you just because you have three kids, but one doesn't eat at your dinner table.



I intend to introduce myslef to at least two new blogs a week until my sidebar is "chaulk full" with inspiration blogs. I am not shy... acutally I am probably one of the most outgoing people you will ever meet...and, therefore I am eager to comment and be commented!



If you haven't read my story from the beginning I take this opportunity to give you brief...low down. I am 32 years old, Emma's birthday is September 8th - she is 8 years old, Bear is 5 1/2 and The Comedian is 3 1/2. My husband is a contracter by day and a sustainable living organic farmer by night (by that I mean in his heart and dreams). I am a myrid of things and I am starting to think there is not enought time in this life to accomplish all I would like to. But for the moment, I am a mother and a writer. I am currrently writing an intimate memoir about my expeience from conception to birth and thereafter. So, eventually I imagine, you will all know WAY MORE about me than you ever wanted to. But, there it is. My current mission is to touch every bleeding heart I can with a message of "it sucks, but there is hope" (obviously I write a bit more in an elloquent manner) - but, ah-ha...yet ANOTHER reason why I love blogging.



So..THANK YOU for allowing me into your bloggorific world! I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, your stories, your strifes and your successes. The tangibility of these connections is almost incomprehensible, but - so is what has happed to us and that, more than anything, is why we need each other.