Snow-Covered Days

Today was a rough day in the office. It started with snow. For all my adoration and love of snow, the one thing I prefer not to do is drive in it. Unfortunately, this morning, I had no choice. When I left for work, the snow was thick on the roads and the plows hadn't yet gone through. As I'm told daily, I'm very lucky in my commute. I back out of my garage, go straight for a half-mile then make a left, travel about 2 miles and turn into the complex that leads to my building.

I know I'm lucky that it's really only about a 2 mile commute. However, for the record, I'd like to state that 2 miles in bad snow is just as terrifying as a 20 mile commute. I've done both. With a 20 mile commute, there's a period of thinking, "what the heck am I doing, driving on this crap!" Then you drive and then you get the hang of the slow breaking, the following other cars and leaving a nice gap. It's not easy, in fact, it's exhausting but when you pull into the car park at work, there's a sense of relief and knowing that it's likely, when you leave, things will be better.

With a two mile commute, there's no time to find a rhythm. It's tension, all the way. This morning, the snow was so thick that it became one of those "make your own driving lane" situations. You couldn't see the lines of the road, you could only guess. You could try to follow in the tracks of the car in front of you but it didn't do much good because it was still thick snow. I had a horrible, slightly terrifying moment where I could not get any traction and I started to slide sideways. I did what I instinctively knew how to do- take your foot off the gas, turn the wheel and try to slow. It worked. I was still a little nervewracked. Then I had the misfortune to get stuck behind a Dodge Charger. Note to people out there: Dodge Chargers might be a sort-of classic car. They might make a great noise when you rev the engine. I even think the Dukes of Hazard drove one so they're either instinctively cool or instinctively cheesy, take your pick. However, Dodge Chargers? Not good on snow. The one in front of me lost its traction at a light and it never recovered. It was painful to watch it try to regain its grip on the road but slowly slide sideways. At one point, it moved backwards and literally came within a foot of my bumper.

By the time I got to the light where I turn to go to my office, I was already shaking with stress. Add to that the slight horror of realizing there's an unplowed hill that you have to maneuver to get to the office? Not fun.

I made it. Then I realized that everyone else had too. We're all parking around the back this week which meant my lovely, normal parking space was claimed by an interloper. I found a spot but I had to search for it.

So, by the time I actually got to my desk, I wasn't in the best of moods. I was shaken and stressed and all I really wanted to do was go back home and curl up in my bed. However, I couldn't do this so I tried to work. All through the morning, I received comments of "you're so lucky you live so close!"

As I've said before, it's partially luck but mostly planning. I did it ON PURPOSE. I knew this would happen so I bought my house accordingly. Also, while I respect that I have a short commute, sliding sideways on a major road is no more fun within two miles of the office than it is within twenty. I'm not belittling the intrepid drivers who made it from afar but I think a little more sensitivity would go a long way. When Captain Monkeypants is holding her highly caffeinated tea mug for dear life with white knuckles first thing in the morning, DO NOT remind her how lucky she is that she lives so close. She does NOT want to hear it. Now, if they invented teleportation, then she'd be lucky.

Aside from that the bad weather, I also discovered that since we changed health insurance companies after the first of the year, my necessary 'treatment' for a condition that I have was no longer covered even though I was told that is would be when we signed up for our coverage. This meant when I called to authorize a medication be shipped to my doctor, I did not get the $30 copay I was expecting, I got a $415 shock. It's one thing to expect that type of co-pay but when you have no idea, I think they call that blindsiding. Several phone calls later, turns out I have to pay it.

I had tried to remain upbeat to this point. I went to the bathroom to try to be inspired by the optimism there. This did not work. I realized I was just not going to be in a good mood. Then, to top it all off, I got an email at work. One of my coworkers wanted to know if it was a possibility that she might 'crash' at my house tonight so she didn't have to risk the snow.

Now, I have some coworkers I consider 'friends'. I have some that I consider to be quasi-friends. Everyone else is a coworker. This was a quasi-friend. In any other circumstance, I would have been more ok with it. In this case, it was more the principle of the thing. You see, as I mentioned yesterday, we're having a training workshop this week, in the office. We have 'Visitors' in the office. They're here. Thus, some of our personnel HAVE to be here too, those heavily involved in the training. The coworker who asked if she could crash is one of these personnel.

My problem is that I tend to have an idealist view of life: What's right is right, what's wrong is wrong. The problem is the world does not work like this. I'm learning that every day but still I live in hope. You see, the coworker who made the request of me and ALL of her 'team members' all have the same boss. He lives five hours away from our office. Each Monday, he drives to our office, each Friday, he drives home. In between, he stays in a hotel. Our company pays for his hotel. Our company pays for his mileage. Yet today, his staff made a request that since the weather was so abysmal, would it be possible that they, too, could stay in a hotel so they didn't have to risk getting trapped by the weather in the morning?

Their request, to the best of my knowledge, was denied. Thus, my coworker asked if she could stay at my place. Because I am a softie and horribly bad with guilt, I said that she could if it was an emergency. I wasn't terribly encouraging but I did not say no either. I did not WANT her to stay but the 'good' voice in my head told me that I had to do the right thing. In the end, she decided to take the risk and drive home anyway. I was thankful. I feel bad about that.

I think the biggest problem I have is that our company is hypocritical and contradictory. Today, our president was 'sick' but he 'worked from home' anyway. Few other people worked from home, even though we had a level one snow emergency. We did not get to leave early, even though the snow kept accumulating. One of our managers is permitted to rack up the bills so he can be in the office weekly without having to compromise by moving closer yet he could not permit his own staff to save the stress of hazardous travel by sparing the expense of letting them stay in a hotel.

I suppose part of me is a put out that a coworker asked me if she could stay with me just because I live close. I suppose it is convenient. It does not mean I want to become an inn for stranded coworkers. If I was a better person, I'd say, "No problem!" and permit them to stay. And, honestly, if it was a true, definite, absolute emergency, I would. It's just that once you start something, it snowballs. It sounds horrible but I know it to be true. If I let her crash this time, will it end there or will other people think, 'hey, spare bedroom! no commute!'

Probably not. It just makes me feel bad to think those thoughts.

And, as Karma happens, when I got home from work, I had to spend a long time digging my driveway out. My street is on the emergency route for the fire station and the police so they keep my street plowed. Unfortunately, when they plow, they push the snow inwards...into our driveways. When I got home, my drive was impassable. Since we were having a snow emergency, we're not permitted to park on the street so it wasn't as though I could leave my car on the street overnight. I had to shovel.

I like shoveling. It's good exercise and it's therapeutic. It's just not something you want to do before you even get home from work. Still, I did so and in record time. I'm proud to admit my next door neighbour, the Dog Whisperer, had a head start on me. I managed to shovel my driveway AND my sidewalk in less time than it took him to shovel his drive.

Now, as I'm looking out of the window, all I'm seeing is white. It's snowing hard and it's blowing. My driveway is covered again. The plows are running and piling the snow against the curb...and our driveways. I have a feeling I'll be late tomorrow because I'll have to dig myself out. I'll probably get mocked because I only live two miles from the office. It doesn't mean I get any less snow and any less inconvenience but I/m sure I'll get teased anyway. I usually do.

Yet tomorrow is a new day, shining with freshly fallen snow. If I have to dig first thing in the morning, I'll be at one with the snow, which I love. I've been forbidden to dance in it, around it, near it or even while thinking about it because, apparently, everyone I know now blames me for the snow when it falls. I know that if that happens, I'll come inside and listen to the news, my eyes flickering uncontrollably to that 'ticker tape' at the bottom of the screen, announcing school delays and cancellations, a tiny part of me wishing that, as it once had, it would again apply to me. I remember the hopeful days of watching that scrolling banner, hoping beyond hope that our school would be on there. When it was, it was like a rush of excitement, killing the actuality of trying to go back to bed but still loving that it was a day of pure, uninhibited nothingness. These days, I live in the real world. Companies don't have that scrolling banner of delays and cancellations.

Oh, but I wish they did. Especially after a day like today.

Yet I can believe that tomorrow will be better...right?

Happy Wednesday.

The Visitors Are Coming!

Today was most definitely a Monday. I got to work and started a project that I thought would be simple. Alas, being Monday, nothing is ever simple. It turns out that even though I knew for certain that I'd updated a web page a few months ago, my changes were gone and I had to start from scratch. This realization came after quite a few attempts to find my edits which took up rather a lot of time. By the time I realized I had no choice but to start all over again, I had wasted valuable minutes trying to undo the undo-able error.

Still, even though it was Monday, I was in a scarily chipper mood. I have no idea why. It's remarkably easy to alarm people when they ask you how you are and you say enthusiastically, "It's Monday! YAY!"

I think that enthusiasm from me at work is always sort of a shock to most people. On a Monday, it's just plain alarming. I exacerabated the alarm by reading the motivation poster in the kitchen aloud to anyone who dared seem un-perky. I did not win a lot of fans. In fact, one of my coworkers even swore at me.

I think the saddest part is the more I alarm people with my perkiness, the more it encourages me. In our department staff meeting today, my manager told us we all had to download an application for our computers. When he realized they had to create a download just for little old me, the lone PC user in a sea of Macs, he stared at me and said, "you're really the only one?"

I beamed at him and said, "yup." He stared some more. "Really? Well, aren't you special?"

I merely smiled in my slightly loony way and said, "why yes, I always thought so." He didn't say much more on the subject. I think the fact that he acknowledged that I am the lone banana in a sea of Apple's was enough for the day. It's the teeny, tiny victories that really count, even if they only last a couple of hours.

This week is very special in our office. We have outsiders coming in to be trained on our software. It's very exciting, at least that's what I'm being told. This means for my area that we might be paraded out on a break just to prove that we exist. We also must dress nicely each day. For me, this isn't exactly an issue. I like to dress nicely for work. However, I do find it slightly ironic that we have to dress up to impress the visitors who most likely won't see us. I suppose we're supposed to give the impression that we're highly professional. Given that we actually are quite professional and still manage to be that way in jeans and t-shirts, it's rather interesting that we have to pretend that we dress nice every day.

I'm not against dressing nice for work as I've stated many times. Normally, I get odd looks and questions when I wear something other than jeans to work. It's just that we're pretending. The construction on our building has been working top speed to be done by tomorrow so that the visitors think we're perfect. It's still not done though Neon Einstein and the Motivational Bathroom Pictures are hung so that our guests know we're all perky and upbeat. Of course, given that there are only two bathroom stalls in our entire building and we're going to have quite a few women in for the training, I'm not quite sure how upbeat you can remain when you really need to go and there's a line but, well, they didn't think of that when they gave us our two bathroom stalls.

It's all a charade, really. I suppose any workplace is when you look at it. I watch The Office regularly and I have to say, though we don't have a supervisor quite as incompetant as Michael Scott, some of the events on that show are a little too familiar. I think every workplace is the same. You have to be on your best behaviour when outsiders are in the building to make them think you're perfect. When they leave, then you can start acting crazy and breaking out the jeans. One of the reasons I'll probably never be a boss is that I tend to think the output and work product is one of the things to look at, not what the workers look like who get it there. Also, if you're nice to the workers, they might output a little more, up that ratio of work to salary. My office isn't mean to us per se but, well, they don't exactly have staff appreciation days or parties. Even our Christmas party didn't happen this year because no one could be bothered to plan it. Also, I suspect we had no budget. I don't see why we couldn't have turned on the flat screens, cranked up the popcorn maker and had a party in our little Cubicle Land but no one seemed to go for that.

Now the time for holiday parties has passed. A President's Day party just didn't seem to appeal to anyone. Still, at lunch, we've taken to having little parties in the kitchen area. I think we might have to close the doors when the visitors are in the building; my perkiness might really frighten them. It's one thing to unleash a loony grin on your coworkers but I'm not mean enough to do it to complete strangers.

Of course, it's only Tuesday. By Friday, I might feel differently. I'll let you know.

Happy Monday!

Self-Enforced Snow Days...

This weekend, like most, has just flown by. We had a minor snowstorm on Friday night which left us with six inches of snow. It was the perfect weekend to stay inside.

The weekend started with some strange, indecisive weather. All day Friday it rained but the temperature fluctuated. At any given moment it changed from rain to freezing rain to sleet and to snow. By the time we left work on Friday night, it was mostly snow and it was coming down hard.

For me, this was a natural excuse to make a run to Jungle Jim's. I needed groceries and if the weather got bad, I wouldn't want to go out. Voila...easy solution.

Also, since I have a guest, my good friend Saz, coming to visit next weekend, I promised to cook for her and I needed to get some ingredients in preparation.

Jungle Jim's was as useful as ever. I got everything I needed and even had time to do the usual fresh quail egg once-over. Alas, they still elude me. Still, I managed to get everything on my list as well as a few other irresistable options.

Saturday, I had intended to clean the house in preparation for my guest's visit. In the end, I actually talked myself into being only semi-productive instead of fully productive and instead decided to get the messy tasks out of the way and then spend Sunday cleaning up those messes as well as just general cleaning.

One of the messy tasks is laundry. I don't know about you but my laundry makes a mess. No matter how well I scour the pockets, somehow a tissue always makes its way into my laundry. It ends up getting wet and sticking to the clean laundry when I throw it into the dryer. Then, when the clothes are dry, the tissue sits, broken down, partially in the lint-catcher and partially, patiently, waiting until I open that dryer door to tumble out onto the floor below. Thus, I have a mess.

I also had to shovel my driveway so that when the time came, I could get out without sliding backwards into the ice mountain that the plows had left at the end of my driveway. I actually like shoveling snow. First, I get to be out in the snow. Second, it's great exercise and third, it's useful. Unfortunately, it means when I come in, even if I wipe your boots on the mat, I still manage to make a mess. My problem is that even though I try to put my trouser legs inside my boots, they always find a way to come out. They end up getting snowy and when I go inside, the snow melts, leaving and unintended trail.

I also needed to make ravioli. I promised Saz I'd make her butternut squash ravioli. Since it's a messy process that I haven't quite perfected yet, I thought it might be quicker and less embarrassing to premake the pasta and freeze it. I was feeling ambitious so, in addition to the butternut squash ravioli, I decided to make a ricotta and herb stuffed ravioli too. I made two batches of pasta dough- one regular flour, one semolina. Naturally, no matter how hard I tried to make my flour 'well' deep enough to hold the eggs as I gently beat them, I ended up having a slight eruption of my pasta volcano anyway. It means runny egg that tries desperately to escape from the flour but you can stop with some simple flour scooping. In the end, as long as you knead and tidy the dough, it all works out. I just wish I knew the trick to preventing Mount Versuvius every time I try to make pasta dough.

In the end, I spent about four hours making ravioli. You see, I have a little pasta maker that rolls the dough into a nice flat strip. I also have a nice ravioli press that you use to layer the dough, press indentations into it, add the filling, add another layer of dough and then use a rolling pin to press the dough so that the edges are defined and you can gently pull them from the press. Unfortunately, my pasta machine isn't quite as wide as my press so I can only make five ravioli at a time instead of ten. It's slow going. Fortunately, I had my iPod on. Also, it's fun. Four hours later and I was no longer mocking the ugliness of Croc shoes but understanding just a little why chefs wear them in the kitchen.

Still, even though I'm slightly obsessive compulsive about keeping my work area clean and tidy when I work, I'm messy with flour and some of it ends up on the floor.

So, when I did clean on Sunday, it was well worth it. My house is clean, shiny and comfy. I'll try to make it last until after my guest leaves but I have feeling I'll have to at least run the hoover around again.

I even managed to watch the Superbowl. I'm still sort of horrified/amazed that I actually did that. I quite like football, a fact which both amazes and astounds me. I wouldn't say it's nearly as fun as watching England do well in the World Cup but sometimes American Football can be quite exciting, especially when you know what's going on. It took me almost 15 years of leaving here to even begin to comprehend that so maybe that's got something to do with it.

Also, during the Superbowl, you're supposed to drink beer and eat bad food. Well, I did drink some beer and I attempted to make Superbowl food. I started out well- tomatillo salsa and tortilla chips. I had the salsa in the freezer from when I made it a couple of months ago. It was pretty tasty. Then I decided to cook. I thought about making a dip but somehow I ended up with a pancetta, egg and butter lettuce baguette. It was super tasty but not very Superbowl-y.

Now it's over. The Colts lost, the Saints won. As a Colts fan, it wasn't a great game for my team. They started out well but didn't do so well after half-time. Yet, if there ever was a team that I almost didn't mind beating us, it would be the Saints. After all, their running back, #25, Reggie Bush, used to play for USC and as a USC Trojan fan, that's not such a bad thing. Also, the team's from New Orleans. Not so long ago, New Orleans was Haiti...so a couple of years later, winning a Superbowl is pretty impressive.

So, it's Sunday night. Tomorrow morning looms closer than I'd like, the thought of my alarm going off into the darkness of my room, beckoning me to get up and go to work does not fill me with joy. It's hard to feel joyful on a Monday morning. It means that the weekend is absolutely, without a doubt, over and the world of the work week has the power...at least until Friday.

But then it's a three day weekend and my best friend is coming to visit. We are supposed to get more snow between now and then but I'm hoping it'll be the accent to her visit, not a barrier.

All in all, though work is the pesky problem that lies between now and fun, I can't say that this past weekend wasn't fun. Though it was still productive, enforcing a 'snow day' on myself was a pretty nice little treat. There's nothing like staying inside, looking at the beauty of the snow and making ravioli to make life seem good.

Happy Monday!

The Most Optimistic Bathroom in The World*

* This is obviously an exaggeration. I'm quite sure it isn't the most optimistic bathroom in the actual world but for the intents of this blog, creative license is permitted.

It's finally Friday. It hasn't actually been that bad of a week but it's still nice when the weekend is creeping nearer, whispering in your ear.

I won't even complain about work this week. I've been trying not to; I had a veer towards the negative last week but I've moved back beyond that and I'm glad it's just a job. I'm feeling rather optimistic.

Actually, I think this might also be due to the fact that at work, we now have the Most Optimistic Bathroom In the World.

I'm not joking. For the past week or two, our rather nice bathroom- which, by the way, actually did finally get corrected- has been gathering paintings. It started with a couple. They were those type of prints in matching hues that have a pretty font with words on them like "Hope" embossed and painted in panels of various shades of the same colour. You'd know what I meant if you saw them. They're usually sort of antique-looking, the shades 'aged' to look older than they are.

Anyhow, those paintings were slowly multiplying and they were sitting for at least a week, lined along the wall. This did seem like a rather odd place to put them but we just figured that they'd get around to hanging them up eventually. In the meantime, they were placed right underneath the only paper towel dispenser in the bathroom which meant every time we washed our hands and reached for a paper towel, we accidentally dripped on the paintings. At first, we just slid them along the wall so they didn't get dripped on. When they multiplied to the point that there was nowhere left to slide them, I finally took the precaution of tilting a painting so it didn't get any more dotted with water than it was.

They hung the paintings yesterday. Our bathroom isn't huge but, by goodness, it certainly is peppy. Every painting declares that we should have "Faith," "Hope" or "Love." Also that we should do something along the lines of "Live for today, your life is now."

And, to top it all off, the stalls themselves even have accroutrements. On the back of each toilet is a little crate thing, printed with flowers and declaring something about "Happiness." I think it says more but it's the "Happiness" that really catches the eye. The crates hold little paper bags to dispose of ladies' sanitary products.

I'm not quite sure why that's something that needs to be represented by "Happiness," but it certainly is an eye-catcher.

Of course, me being...well...me has the urge, every time I go into the stall, to start singing "Happiness" songs in an off-key voice with my own words that I make up. If you've ever seen "Elf," it would sound a lot like Will Ferrell does when he tries to sing a song to his dad.

I actually have gone in there and opened my mouth and made up a song. I just didn't say it out loud. You just never know who's in the stall next door. I wouldn't want them to think I was odd. Also, since I've never heard anyone else sing songs about "HAPPINESS!" like I want to, it's probably just me which would make it even odder.

Two of my coworkers have taken to turning the crates backwards so that the other happy saying that's something to do with the petals of a flower show. Naturally, the only thing to do to that is to turn the crates back so that we can see "HAPPINESS" instead. It's a fun, peculiar little irony and I quite like that. I'm not saying we shouldn't be happy in the bathroom but if you're happy because you're in the bathroom...well, that's just a little odd. I could imagine why someone would be happy in the bathroom but this is a clean blog and, well, we don't go there.

Anyways, it's not that I don't like inspirational paintings. I'm glad they're not motivational posters although knowing our CEO, this is probably her version of those posters. They're very, uh, pretty. There's just...a lot of them. In a very...small space. There is another part to the bathroom, the 'handicapped' bathroom that has a shower. Unfortunately, the toilet is in the middle of this room and the door to it leads to one side of a hallway, the other side leads to the regular bathroom. Thus, if you're in there going to the toilet, there's quite a good chance that someone might not actually realize and walk in on you. I believe they were going to add a lock to the door to prevent this but the bathroom tends to serve as a shortcut from one side of the building to the other. It's a passageway, of sorts.

This room has some wall space. The only thing hanging there is this slightly odd looking wire silhouette of a tailor's dummy. Not quite sure why but it's fascinating for a few seconds then it's just a little odd. I think the inspirational paintings could easily have leaked over there.

Of course, on the plus side, we could have been stuck with the neon Albert Einstein painting that was sitting on the floor of a hallway. I can only assume it's going to be hung. I'm not sure why Al is neon but...he is. It's sort of Warhol-esque only...not.

We have strange taste in art; this is the lesson I'm learning here. Also, I've learned that when I go to the bathroom, I have to live in the today because my life is NOW!

I suppose it is nice to be reminded of these things. Just as it's nice to be reminded that HAPPINESS is a good thing.

I'm just not sure being reminded when I go to the bathroom is really that effective.

Still....it's optimistic and sometimes it's good to be reminded of that. It definitely makes me want to sing....my song usually goes something like this.

"HAPPINESS!!!! AND I'm in the bath-roooooooooooooom. I'm going to go to the TOY-LET! I'm not at my desk! It's EXci-ting! HAPPINESS and I'm going to hide in the BATH-Rooooooooom!"

I probably shouldn't have shared that with you because when I type it out, it looks a little barmy. It sounds much better in my head, let me tell you. Of course, it sort of sounds like Buddy the Elf is singing it in my head so that automatically makes it good.

It does makes me laugh. Of course, this does mean that every time I come out of the bathroom, I have a bit of a loony grin on my face. Which probably is even weirder when you stop and think about it. Nevertheless, a smile does wonders for the day, especially when it's real.

And if the motivational printscan make me smile, even if it's not the way they intended, they're doing their job, right?

See, I'm feeling more optimistic already.

Happy Friday and have a good weekend.

Trying to Get Beyond the Rejection Letter.

Remember how I wrote that blog a couple of days ago about the iPad? I think I might be about to become a hypocrite.

Yet, in my defense, I won't be e-reading, I'll just be e-selling.

As a writer, I've learned that trying to get a novel published is a little like stumbling out into the cold, blustery wilderness of the North pole and hoping someone rescues you. Or, more realistically, it's like being forced to watch Ice Road Truckers with your dad and knowing that it's more than likely that one of the truckers might slide out and plunge into the lake, freezing to death before they can drown.

Either way, you get the idea. Trying to break into publishing is pretty impossible.

It's hard to admit. In truth, I'm an idealist. I see the way things should be versus the way they actually are. I see the fact that I've written a light, funny, timely fictional novel that would probably not cost much to promote or produce and I think, "Why would an agent/publisher NOT want to take a chance on this?"

Yet then I get a few rejections and I realize that my idealistic approach is not going to cut it.

The thing is, I have a feeling if people could actually read my novel, The Reluctant Demon, they might enjoy it. In my horrible way of paraphrasing, it's True Blood meets Paranormal Activity (the horribly, slightly creepy movie that killed at the box office around Halloween."

In truth, it's a dark comedy with elements of horror and romance thrown in.

So far, agents feel that "it's not for them."

I wouldn't feel bad except I've now accomplished a grand total of writing nine novels. While I get that some of my novels are hard sells, there's NINE of them. Dear agents: give me a chance. I can write. I can write fast. When I write fast, I write well. In short, I might not have sparkly vampires or DaVinci type code-breaking characters but I have fun.

Yet, what I'm finding in my research is that agents recieve up to 200 queries a day. Of those 200, less than 1% is likely to get more than a kind "Thanks for submitting, good luck" email."

I appreciate the kindness. It's not quite the same as "I loved your premise, let me read more."

My bitterness is probably a little hard to hide. It's a world in which Stephanie Meyer can get an agent to pay attention to her novel because her good friend is also represented by that agent. Stephanie Meyer, gets a read. The rest of us...don't. Long story short, Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series becomes a blockbuster.

Score one for Stephanie. Score nil for the rest of us writers who don't know anyone.

So, here I sit. Nine novels later. Not having got anywhere with any one of those novels is really making me feel quite pathetic. Are they all really so bad that no agent will even look at them?

The pessimist/low self-esteem holder in me says "yes." The realist says, "But they haven't even read them!"

It's all about the query letter. Let me tell you, I've sent out a very large amount of them and nothing seems to work. I've tried funny queries, serious queries, quirky queries, attention getters. I've googled "successful query letters" and read ones that have managed to get their writers an agent. I have taken that successful query and modeled my own exactly after it.

Nothing. It's as though I'm beating my head against a wall. I think it's because you're supposed to give your writing credentials, what experience do I have? The sad fact of the matter is that I don't have much. I have nine novels. If I tell them that, I feel like they're going to chuck the letter aside and say, "nine novels, no agent/publisher? Obviously SHE sucks."

No, I don't think I do. It's just I can't get an agent to read my novel. You can't get published without an agent. You can't get an agent without being published. Catch-22.

In all honesty, as a writer, I don't want to get published for money. All I really want is someont to read my book, enjoy it and pass the word. I want people to enjoy my fiction, it doesn't have to change the world. It just has to take the readers out of it for a little while.

I used to think I needed an agent to do this. Today, however, a simple suggestion from a coworker has me thinking. I'm thinking trying out my novel in an e-book format might be worth looking into to see if it's for me.

I did look into it. You know what? The Kindle publishing industry is doing well. Apparently, if you publish your books for a low price, people will read it. They might not like it but they WILL read it.

With The Kindle as well as the Barnes and Noble Nook, my book will be displayed in a highly readable format, making it simple to publish to the Kindle as well as the Nook.

Ironically, agents say that if its on the Nook/Kindle/Sony e-reader, it's out of their hands. They can't represent an author who has been published, even if it is on The Nook.

To this, I say, poo-ey. As 'an author', I know whatever I've written might be bad. It might imply that I can't 'get' an agent.

Sadly, that seems to be true. I can't get an agent. They just don't want to take a risk on new, unpublished writers who aren't guaranteed success.

Agents/publishers are shy. They're really looking for that one author who can quickly sell them a half a billions' worth of stuff. They're not looking for a someone who cares enough to publish a few sample chapters. They want someone who can produce.

So, I think this Kindle thing might be worth looking into. Take the power from the agents and try it myself. I think that many of the agents' protestations about e-books are out of fear: If we can publish ourselves, why do we need them?

I don't know what people are reading. I don't know if my work will do well with e-readers. I only hope people are looking for something new and different. I'd like to think that I'm new and different. If not, well, I hope that people try to enjoy my book anyway. It's intended to be funny and quirky. Enough said.

What I do hope is that they enjoy my book, that they enjoy my characters and storyline. I have a feeling they will

In my wildest glass-half-full moments, I would love to publish on the Kindle and find that an agent is waiting there, in the wings, to snap me up.

The realist in me knows I'll be lucky if you make a penny.


Still...I havthink I'll give it a go.

Happy Thursday!

Groundhog Day!

We're almost halfway through the week already.That would feel more like an accomplishment except the week is moving very slowly so far.

Today was Groundhog Day. I find that to be an odd tradition. A groundhog is woken from a coma-like state just to be thrust outside to see if he sees his shadow. When he's done, he's put away again. I heard that PETA was trying to stop the tradition and replace the groundhog with a robotic one.

Now, while I really don't get the point of Punxatawny Phil, the groundhog, it's a slightly more logical tradition that getting out a robot.

Ok, when I say logical, I say logical in the way that traditions often are; They don't make a whole lot of sense as time evolves but we still hang on to them as they slowly change over time. Take Christmas, for example. Aside from the obvious Birth of Jesus celebration, Christmas is a hodgepodge of traditions from all over the world, the trees, the yule logs, Boxing Day....when you dissect it, it isn't really a cohesive picture other than the fact that it is Christmas. Same goes for Easter, really. How else can you really tie a giant Bunny that leaves colourful eggs to the death of Jesus?

What it really comes down to is that Groundhog day isn't a real holiday. We don't send cards and to me, that's a pretty good marker of whether something is worth commenorating. If Hallmark doesn't make a Happy Groundhog Day card then it's not a true holiday. Though, by now, they very well might.

In truth, it's a pretty silly holiday. It's a legend- the groundhog sees his shadow and there's six weeks of winter left. Well, it's February 2nd. Traditionally, in Pennsylvania as well as most other places that have seasons, winter generally lasts at least until April, sometimes longer. Thus, we really don't need to wake a sleeping groundhog to tell us this. Especially given that there's always a shadow, as long as there's light coming from somewhere. It might be faint but there's usually a shadow.

So, while I feel like Punxatawny Phil probably could be left to sleep for, oh, say, six weeks longer instead of being forced into the light, it doesn't mean that I support the idea of a robotic Phil-The-Groundhog.

It seems a little silly to me, to be honest. The groundhog is a figurehead, a tradition. It doesn't really mean anything. Even if the groundhog didn't see his shadow, I'm going to take a wild guess and say it's likely there's still at least six weeks of winter left.

Which means that Phil could probably retire and we'd all be ok. We could still call it Groundhog Day, I suppose. Retiring the tradition would probably be slightly more dignified than celebrating Animatronic Groundhog Day. I mean, what if the animatronic version broke down and hundreds of children were watching? Even if it's as realistic as some of those creepy Fur Real pets you see in stores, the batteries could die and when the batteries die, so does the groundhog. Score one for Peta who protected Phil from being woken up but left thousands of children scarred for life because the groundhog "died".

Ok, that's the worse case scenerio, I admit. But it could happen.

I suppose what I'm really getting at is that if we are reduced to an animatronic groundhog, it would be a little pointless. Where's the meaning in that? With Punxatawny Phil, there's the ability to see a furry little critter with somewhat-scary-teeth who sleepily stumbles around for a moment, once a year and lives to celebrate his ongoing fame. He has a personality, even if it is a slightly zombie-like one. Animatronics are not the same. Trust me, I've been to Disneyland and ridden Pirates of the Caribbean many times and even though the animatronic figure looks quite like Captain Jack Sparrow and has Johnny's Depp's character's voice, it's NOT Captain Jack Sparrow and it's just not the same.

So, in defense of Phil, I say if PETA puts enough pressure on to replace the organic creature with a robotic version, it's probably not worth Celebrating Groundhog day. An animatronic version isn't that far off from being a computer in which case, why don't we just design an animation of Phil going out from his hole, seeing his shadow and returning to slumber? It'd be about the same thing.

You probably know that, shockingly enough, Phil did see his shadow again today. Just like he seems to do every year. I don't really wait with bated breath to find out if he will. To be honest, I almost forgot it was Groundhog Day until I heard about PETA's protests. My favourite part of Groundhog Day is the Bill Murray movie. My favourite moment is where Bill Murray, on one of his repeats of the day, enthusiastically recognizes his old classmate who is very annoying with a "Ned? Ned Ryerson?" and then punches him in the face. It's not as violent as he sounds but it's the joyful glee you see in Bill Murray's eyes as he does so that just makes you laugh. Most of the movie makes you laugh. There's nothing funnier than Bill Murray when he's in one of his insane moments of sanity like he was in "Groundhog Day" and "What About Bob."

I should probably watch that movie again. If I recall, they have a real groundhog in the movie, even if it's probably substituted for a fake one during the stunt scenes. If not, I'm sure PETA would have been on the case and the scenes would been dubbed with an animatronic version.

Happy Animatronic Groundhog Day just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?

Happy Wednesday!

Facebook Friends Don't Always Get One Another...

I think I've blogged about Facebook before. What I like about it is that it's a really good way to stay in touch with friends, new and old without having to do more than log in to see what they're up to and how they've been. It's fun to 'spy' on people by reading their status updates and see what's new with them. In short, it's a great way to stay connected. It's a way of marrying together the unique aspects of your life. In my case, I'm Facebook friends with my oldest friend who I met when we were both five, friends with my childhood friends in England, my high school friends in the U.S. and my college friends. My former and current coworkers are also my Facebook friends as are my family members, local and international.

It's great. Except that sometimes, it's also a little awkward.

In my case, I tend to like to write random Facebook statuses that reflect what I'm doing or how I'm feeling. I have the advantage of being able to do this from my Blackberry. Unfortunately, the advantage is also a disadvantage. My Blackberry is one of those with a smaller, non-full-sized keyboard. Since it's also been dropped down the toilet twice, it's a little touchy...quite understandably. Occasionally, I run into the problem, like I did on Friday night, where I'm trying to Facebook that I'm drinking wine and hanging with my parents and having a great time. Except that my Blackberry decided that it was going to send my message after I said I was drinking wine, before I got to the bit about my parents. Thus, it got posted and looked like I had drunk a little too much wine. To make matters worse, I tried to correct the error and my Blackberry amusingly posted this thought before that, too, was finished. I finally had to tell everyone that my Blackberry was posessed and that I was NOT drunk. Too late though. I finally got the real status posted but the damage was done.

I suppose the world didn't need to know all that but when you join Facebook, updating your status, for many of us, just becomes a habit. It becomes more of a habit when you can't surf the web at work and the only diversion from, you know...work... is looking at my Facebook application on my Blackberry. So, I update my status a lot. I also read everyone else's.

The thing with Facebook and having so many different 'types' of friends is that occasionally, they don't get each other. I have one friend in particular who I met in L.A. who only goes on Facebook every couple of days and only has a few Facebook friends. Thus, she feels very inclined to post on every Facebook status I've posted since she had last logged on which, on some days, particularly boring work days, is rather a lot. Mostly, it's ok. However, she also hasn't seemed to learn some of the simple rules of Facebook etiquette. One of the basics being if someone is having a 'conversation' via status comments or Wall postings and you have NO idea what they're talking about, posting your two cents is a little...rude.

It sounds petty but, trust me, she's offended a few of my friends by posting her opinion on something which ends up being mostly unrelated to anything we've been talking about. She's a nice lady but she's also very, very opinionated. She's also of the opinon that she's usually correct. She just simply has to comment on EVERYTHING I say. And when I say EVERYTHING, believe me, I mean...EVERYTHING.

For example, Saturday evening, I posted a question (sardonically, of course) as to whether it was sad that I was planning my week around the season premiere of "Lost".

Now, here's the thing. Most of my real friends know that I was being sardonic. Yes, "Lost" is important to me and yes, I absolutely have to watch it but I'm also not so far gone that it really is the only thing in my week worth thinking about. It was more just to see what reactions I got.

Naturally, my friend who is a "Lost" die-hard posted in her traditional blunt and to-the-point manner that of COURSE it wasn't sad and that anyone who wasn't should punch themselves repeatedly in the face for being so stupid.

Now, this is where the problem with having multiple friends from different walks of life comes in. They don't GET that comment. Now, if you knew the friend who posted it, you would know that she really wouldn't hurt a fly and when she says "I'd like to punch you in the face," it's actually quite hilarious, rather like trying to watch a chihuahua take on a great dane and end up playing dead so it doesn't get hurt. In other words, it's meant to be taken with full eye-rolling and laughing because it's just a fun, ridiculous thing she says and she means it to be fun and ridiculous. It's her way of showing the strength of her beliefs.

But you have to know her to know that she's not serious and that she's saying it completely tongue-in-cheek.

Today, my Friend Who Cannot Stop Commenting read that and posted something to the effect that she would then have to punch herself in the face because she will not be watching "Lost" because TV is stupid and a waste of time for anyone who watches it.

Conversation over.

In the short space of one comment, my friend managed to belittle not only me but all of my friends who had commented on my status. Also, since many of my other friends like TV, she pretty much shot them down too.

Now, it may seem like she didn't know what she's doing but, well, she did. Unlike my face-punching friend, this Friend Who Cannot Stop Commenting actually meant what she said. She's very good at posting comments which are quite insultive. Ironically, she doesn't meant to be insultive, per se. She's just one of these people who thinks her opinion is so important that when it's given, the matter is solved. The first time she ever looked at one of my novels, she said it was far too long to bother reading and that because it was about teenagers, it was never going to sell so she didn't even finish reading it. What she did read, she said was just too much about teenagers and she didn't care for them. My novel was intended to be about teenagers. Her comment actually ending up being more of a compliment that time.

Most of her Facebook comments tend to fall somewhere along those lines. That's it. She has spoken. The End. Goodbye.

In the grand scheme of thing, it really means nothing. Facebook is another diversion from life, not really worth anything but still important to us, nevertheless. It's where we go to find out what's going on with people, to find out who is celebrating, who is hurting, when people's birthdays are. For me, that feature is invaluble. It's a great way of knowing exactly when someone's birthday is coming up, even when you know you're in the vicinity of the date.

In short, Facebook has become an add-on to life. When you have time to kill on a computer, Facebook is where you go to play. We keep in touch with short little comments, letting each other know that we can see what's going on with them and adding in our blurbs so they know we're reading.

It's just that sometimes, having all those friends in your network is rather like going to a party in which everyone's invited even though they shouldn't all be. There's always that one person, you see, who can make a room go silent.

Even if the room is a comment board on Facebook.

Happy Tuesday!