Grabbing the Hatchet

Shhhh....She Who Refuses To Sleep Like A Normal Human is actually sleeping like a normal human. Perhaps it's because I altered her DNA by pumping her full of cider mill donuts.  See?

Yep, all that stuff around her mouth is pure sugar.  I know, you're in awe of my parenting skills.  It's fine.  I'm used to it. 

So, I thought I'd take this opportunity to share with you my current query stats so far:

Number of queries sent: 44
Number of rejections: 24
Number of full requests: 7
Number of R&Rs: 1
Pounds of chocolate consumed: never mind
Amount of profanity hissed when opening inbox to a new email and discovering that, instead of a response from an agent, some prince in Nigeria wants to give me a million dollars: HUGE

So, as you can see from the stats, particularly the R & R, I'm diving back into my ms to make a few tweaks (or hack the living crap out of it.  Ya know, which ever feels right). 

What dreams may come...

The other night, after a reckless Kit-Kat binge, I had a bizarre dream.  I was tending bar at a party in a hotel.  All the of the party goers were writers (except for one person - the lady who mans the self check-out station at my local grocery store was there standing off in the corner, giving me the evil eye as she always does.  Not sure if she's just a grumpy person or if I look like someone who might try and steal lettuce).  The party goers would order their drinks and then get very upset with me because all I had to mix drinks together was ice and maple syrup.  Trying to deflect their irritation with me, I handed them each a fake mustache from under the bar.  When they'd put them on, they'd each get a brilliant idea for a book.  They were so distracted by their new idea that they forgot all about the lack of alcohol. 

Then I looked down and I didn't have feet.  (This happens a lot in my dreams.  Not sure what it means.)

Of course, at one point in the dream, I tried putting a mustache on and...nothing.  Zip.  Nada.  Suddenly, stink-eye lady from the grocery store was bartending next to me, and she said, "It only works on them.  They're real writers." 

Wow...bite me, stink-eye lady.

I'm sure the dream would have gone on if She Who Refuses To Sleep Like A Normal Human hadn't jarred me awake with a swift whack in the face (yes, She Who Refuses To Sleep Like A Normal Human ends up in our bed almost every night in an effort to coax her into sleeping more.  It rarely works, btw.).  But, honestly, my subconscious wouldn't have needed to elaborate any further.  I know what it all means (except for the missing feet thing).  I've been querying my book and, of course, it's a trying experience.  Stacks of rejections, handfuls of requests, more rejections, more requests...  It's all good and I'm so very grateful for the whole experience, but, one minute you're feeling like it could actually happen, and the next you're feeling like you want to crawl into a corner with a gigantic box of Hostess products.  (Okay, I usually have the urge to break into Hostess products regardless of whether I'm up or down, but you get the idea.) 

Regardless, I may venture out to Target and hit the Halloween clearance bins for a fake mustache.  You know...just to see what happens...

Some things I've learned in the last few months...

 - I can write/rewrite a book with a baby climbing all over me

 - I can write/rewrite a book with a baby climbing all over me while being a total sleep deprived zombie

 - Replacing every meal with a double tall iced latte is a great way to lose five pounds fast

 - The world didn't actually end the first day I had to drop my son off at kindergarten, even though I was absolutely positive it would.

 - Sometimes, someone you thought you could count on just doesn't come through.  And that's okay. (...sort of)

 - Sometimes, someone you thought you could count on does come through, and it is so very full of awesome.

 - I still can't read while I'm on the treadmill.  My brain is just not advanced enough.

 - I can eat cider mill donuts until I throw up

 - I cannot stop watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey.  I can't.  I've tried.  It's just not happening.

 - Sometimes I feel proud that I've written three books and, though I have yet to be picked up by an agent, I have a handful who love my writing and are waiting for me to hit the right story.

 - Sometimes I feel utterly pathetic that I've written three books and have yet to land an agent and I get so frustrated and fed up that I want to throw my computer in the garbage, grow a beard and join some traveling freak show. 

 - When the aforementioned frustration sets in and I swear I will never, ever, ever, ever write anything ever again, I still wake up the next morning with the little bug in my brain spinning away at another idea for a book.  

 - My daughter - aka She Who Refuses to Sleep Like a Normal Human - will, in fact, eat the dirt out of my potted bay laurel tree when I'm not looking.

 - Having a dance-off with zombies to Bad Romance by Lady Gaga is a really good way to prepare for the zombie apocalypse

 - Charles Dickens is still my favorite writer.  

 - As much as I want to, I still can't watch Ghost Hunters without hiding in my husband's armpit.  

How about you?  Learned anything new in the last few months?