The story is finished. Now what?

I finished revising my story, a young adult novel. Again. I added another layer and am feeling pretty good about it. Now what? Should I query the agent I met at the writer's retreat last spring? She read the first 25 pages and gave me a positive critique and suggestions for improvement to help deepen the story. Should I hold off and wait for the retreat coming up in March? Should I query publishers or should I query agents? So many questions. What's the right way to go?

One of my writer friends, who also happens to be an editor, recently posted a blog on her site that was very interesting and got me questioning. She wrote that editors are inundated with requests and querys this time of year and that if writers want to be noticed, and not be just one in a pile of slush, they should hold off. I am eager to get my story out there but should I take her advice? Should I wait a month or so? Or should I take the plunge and send it out now?

Feeling thankful...

It's the day after Thanksgiving and I'm in a very relaxed, easy-going kind of mood. Yesterday was frantic with preparing a feast for my family, including my parents and brother, Dell, and his wife, Liz. My daughter, Kyla, was busy as well, making two pumpkin pies, one a cheesecake and one with a crumbly nut topping, green beans with almonds, a sweet potato pie, and an apple sausage dressing. We cooked up a storm and had fun watching it all come together. It was a special Thanksgiving as we haven't had my parents here in five years, since they moved down to Florida. It's been nice having them back in New England and it was a special treat having them join us for Thanksgiving.

As I looked around the dining room table yesterday, I couldn't help but be thankful. Thankful for my parents who are now close by, thankful for my three children who aren't children anymore, but fun-loving, creative adults. Thankful for Dell and Liz, who graciously drove from Lowell, MA to Orleans to pick up my parents and bring them to my house in R.I., and who always have interesting topics of conversation to share, from books to movies to the latest Etsy craze. And last but not least, I'm thankful for Don for putting up with me and giving us a second chance at something new.

I feel blessed. And it's times like these when we can relax and reflect on what is truely important and meaningful in our lives. For in another day or two, it's back to work and the start of the most wonderful time of the year, if not the most hectic. So for now, relax, have some more pie, and enjoy the rest of the long holiday weekend.

Falling into winter...

Fall is definitely here in southern New England. The temperature was 40 degrees when I tumbled out of bed this morning. Brrrrrr...I love fall with the changing of the leaves to shades of gold and red, biting into crisp, tart apples, and the smell of wood stoves burning. What I don't love is the anticipation of frigid temperatures and icy walkways that come with winter. What I love, though, is the first snowfall; walking through the fresh powder, tilting my head to feel the light patter of snowflakes in my face; watching Hannah, race down the driveway, her snout digging through the snow, making tunnels.

Am I crazy? I am a dichotomy of loves. I love snow when I'm home to enjoy it or when I'm cross-country skiing. I hate snow when I'm about to leave for work or about to leave work for home and snowflakes swirl across the windshield, blocking my view. I'm sure I'm not alone in this love/hate relationship with winter. But as winter looms in the distance, I can't help but wonder if my friends and family who live in warmer climates have the right idea.

Beads on a string...

I love language, the way words taste on my tongue. The way words can be strung together like beads on a string. This is a beautiful way to think about writing stories and, I must admit, this is how my mom described it to me once. She talked about her love for language and how with thousands of words to choose from, it's how you string them together that makes a sentence, a paragraph, a story. It's how words come together in a wonderful way. My writing mentor, Anita Riggio, described it in the same fashion. Or did she say pearls on a necklace? I love this thought and I love the image it portrays.

When I teach poetry, I call it bumping words together. Colliding words together in a new or unusual pattern. For example, honey rouge, strawberry bark, apple moon, ocean tangerine, lavender parsnips.

Now you try it...

A Cape Cod state of mind...

I just got back from a week on the Cape with my college friends. We've been renting a house in Eastham since our kids were little, for about 15 years or so. There have been different configurations of people, adults and children, each year, depending on jobs, finances, conflicts, etc. At our peak, I think there were 11 kids with 5 moms. In ONE house! Can you imagine? The house belonged to a childhood friend's brother who rented it out in the summer. It was a huge place, with an assortment of bedrooms (it would have to, right?), a large kitchen, a patio out back, and a massive beech tree in the front. One of my most vivid memories is taking pictures of the kids draped in the branches of this gorgeous tree.

Now fast forward to 2010. Four friends without kids, at least most of the week (some of the kids came out for the weekend), in a quaint two-bedroom cottage, within walking distance to the bay. Quite different from years' past and quite relaxing. We always talked about what it would be like when the kids were grown and now it's here. We trudge down the dozens of steps over the dunes at Marconi Beach in Wellfleet, chairs and umbrellas in tow, in search of the perfect spot to catch some rays and tell beach stories. We meander through the shops in Martha's Vineyard after taking a wind-blown ride on the ferry. We find "our" deck overlooking Provincetown Harbor and sip summertime favorite cocktails while taking pictures of the fabulous view. Some of us ride the waves in the frigid ocean on boogie boards at low tide. It's a week that we look forward to all year.

Cape Cod - a beachy, casual, adventurous state of mind.

My Lovely Writer Friend

Dark clouds hovered as rain splashed on thirsty summer leaves. The beginning of a novel? No, the setting for a lovely brunch at my writer friend, Kim Fusco's house recently. Several other writer friends and I had a delicious potluck while catching up on our latest writing projects and the kids' newest adventures. Kim even read the first page of her second novel, The Wonder of Charlie Anne, which debuts on August 10. As Kim describes it, a story of triumph over adversity. It's a middle grade novel set in the 1930's in a rural New England town during the depression. I had the pleasure of reading it last summer when Kim was in the last revision stage and needed advice on the teaching of reading to a child who has difficulty in that area. Something I know lots about. It's a beautifully written book with characters that sing to each of us. If you haven't already, you must check out Kim's first book, Tending To Grace, which was hailed as "stunning."

Summertime and the reading is easy...

Now that it's almost summer, it's time to pick out some good beach reads. I have several already piled up on the hand-painted cupboard by my bed. Summer is the best time to read for pure enjoyment. To get into a great book and be able to read for hours is wonderfully satisfying. I hope to instill this love of reading in my students. Some of them step into my classroom loving books, while others struggle to decode words and have difficulty comprehending what they've read. Some would rather play video games and watch TV. It's my job, as a teacher, to help make reading come to life for these kids. When I can achieve this, then I feel like I'm making a difference in their lives.

A very special student who I've had the pleasure of working with this year, is finally beginning to enjoy books. We discovered together that he likes to read about history, about events that happened in the past. I think he became fascinated by the fact that these people lived before us. "Before me?" he would ask. "Before you?" I would nod and say, "Yes, before us." We would do the math together and discover how many years ago these events took place. And he was intrigued by the fact that these events really happened, they weren't just made up stories. This was quite a revelation to his parents and me, and quite exciting for him. He finally asked to keep reading. And his parents finally began to read to him and to realize the benefits of just reading for the pleasure of it, not only to read to decode words and to become more fluent but to take pleasure in the act of reading. How wonderful for them. How satisfying for me.

My own three children are readers and this, as you can imagine, is a thrill for me. Maybe I didn't do everything right, but I gave them a love for reading. Being readers ourselves can be one of the best gifts we can give to children. It may take time for some, but eventually they come around. Like I wrote about in an earlier post, I didn't read often for pleasure as a child. I read because I had to. I read for tests and book reports and to write papers. My parents read by lamp light every evening, and my siblings read a lot, as well. Eventually, I, too, became a lover of books and reading. A natural progression.

By the way, what are your summer reading picks? I just started "The Murderer's Daughters" by Randy Susan Myers. A book recommended by my brother, Dell, as he knows the author. He has taken writing courses with Ms. Myers at the Grub Street Writers' Center in Cambridge, MA. It's quite compelling so far. As a matter of fact, it's calling me right now...