Semi-Vacation

Sorry for the long silence on the blog. Here are reasons:

1. The DHS and I had planned a semi-vacation (ie. half-vacation, half-football-tournament) that I semi-forgot about and therefore only marginally planned for, which meant we went camping at a lake without towels, sleeping bags or pillows*. 
2. We spent the vacation part of the vacation (ie. the non-camping portion) in the Seattle area, walking around the city, taking in Pike's Place Market and the Seattle Aquarium. (The kids caught plankton at the Aquarium and looked at it under microscopes. So cool!)
3. We also spent three hours at the American Girl doll store in the Alderwood Mall. Yes, my girls and I went a little crazy. (They have a doll hair salon!) The DHS and the son also went a little crazy, but in a whole different way.Yeah, try asking a seven-year-old boy to sit for three hours in a doll store and you'll find out what I mean.
4. I thought we'd have WiFi in our hotel room, but no. There was wireless not-free internet (WiNfi?), but I wasn't willing to pay for it. (Those few days without internet may have helped me curb my appetite for Angry Bird. I have not played it in more than four days. Yes, really. I might actually start writing novels again. Maybe.)
5. While enjoying Seattle, the DHS and I soon realized our children had forgotten how to live in a city. When we were in China, we lived in a huge city of nine million people (at least), so I took it for granted that city-life would come naturally to them. But I forgot that we've been gone for two years, so things like ESCALATORS, CROWDS, HIGH-SPEED TRAINS, PUBLIC BATHROOMS, PARKING GARAGES, BUSY STREETS, TRAFFIC and STREET-CROSSING SIGNALS were alien to them. In some cases, even frightening enough to make them cry.
6. After one short stint at the lake (on the non-vacation portion of the trip, after the night of barely-any-sleep camping) I drove back to the football stadium to pick up the DHS. The children were only semi-clothed, the baby was hungry, the sun was beating down, the two-year-old was throwing a fit. I couldn't get to the suitcase for clean clothes because it was under ALL the other stuff at the back of the minivan and I couldn't deal with unpacking and repacking while the baby was screaming. This is when having a Dashingly Handsome Sidekick comes in very handy. I hauled everyone (my two-year-old was only wearing her diaper) across the parking lot into the football stadium to find the DHS. When he saw me and my entourage approaching, he came right over. (Maybe the baby screaming and the diaper-only two-year-old were some sort of sign?) He left the stadium right away and got out clothes for all our kids while I fed the baby. It was one of those I-can't-take-this-anymore moments, and I'm very glad to have a level-headed sidekick when those moments occur, let me tell you. 
7. Good news about our vacation: Nobody drowned. Nobody is bug bitten or sun burned. We ate huckleberries because there was a bush at our camp site. I've almost finished my Christmas shopping between the American Girl store and the Lego store. (Yes, we also visited the Lego store to reward the seven-year-old boy after his long American Girl experience.)

*Thankfully my wonderful mother-in-law came through for us. She retrieved our sleeping bags and pillows from our house and sent them over with my brother-in-law who hadn't left yet. We did okay without towels. Thankfully I had one baby blanket with me, so if we were desperate to dry off, we used that.

Outside the Seattle Aquarium with our plankton net.

My very enthusiastic American girls.

Sophie and her friend Blake at the lake. (This is directly before the Mommy near-melt-down moment.)

Switched

So many freakin' awesome comments to the last post! It just reminds me how awesome and encouraging and wonderful you all are. Thank you!

In other news, I want to tell you about something strange going on in our household.

I think the dashingly handsome sidekick (DHS) and I have sort of traded identities. It's weird.

Get this:

I am currently (temporarily, I hope) addicted to playing a game called Angry Birds.

And the DHS is addicted to a series of books. FICTION, no less.

Yes, you heard that right. The DHS, who is almost exclusively a non-fiction reader, is entranced by a work of fiction (I mean, he is literally reading every chance he gets) and I am enthralled by a game of strategy in which I shoot little birds at ugly, green pigs.

We have traded brains, I tell you.

Can you guess what series of FICTION he is addicted to?

I'll give you a hint. It's YA (young adult). That's all you get.

Give it your best shot in the comments. (Get it, SHOT? Because I use a sling-shot to shoot birds at pigs in Angry Birds.)

Now I'm going back to beat Angry Birds level 3-21.

If you were looking for something deeper from me tonight, go and read the comments from the last post, because I have some seriously smart and thoughtful commenters who clearly use their brain power to contemplate deep things and write amazing masterpieces while I waste my time on Angry Birds.

Can Optimism Be Unhealthy?

I think my eldest daughter inherited some of my unhealthy optimism.

You see, there's a coloring contest at the library.

She did a great job of coloring the bird (with a feather that spells READ on its head) and adding her own artistic details of a tree and a bench in the background, as if the read-bird is strolling through a park. Very cute.

But here's where it got scary.

"I'm going to win the contest," she said. "And the winner of the contest is going to get a slip-and-slide, so we'll have a slip-and-slide ... And Anna's is really good, too, so she'll win the younger division and I'll win the older division and we'll--"

"Hold on," I said. "Your picture is great, honey, but you have no idea who the judges will choose. You shouldn't get your hopes up so high."

My eldest shrugged and walked away, which translated: I still think I'm going to win this coloring contest. That slip-and-slide is mine.

I'm glad my elder daughter is confident. I cringe, however, at her over-confidence. I want her to embrace some reality. Find a balance.

And speaking of balance, I need to find it in my writing life, too!

This week I found out I did not win a writing grant I applied for. I didn't even get honorable mention. I also found out I didn't win a writing contest I entered. I didn't even place in the top 25. I feel a little like my daughter holding up her bird picture going, "Hey, what's wrong with mine?" 

At the moment my optimism is wearing thin.

Of course I'll keep writing and submitting, because if I start hiding my work, then I've given up.

Even though I'm disappointed, I haven't thought of quitting. Earlier this week I sent off a submission to a magazine and today I entered another writing contest. Both may well turn into more disappointment, but eventually, EVENTUALLY I should be good enough to be published, or at least noted. (right?)

So maybe my daughter's unhealthy optimism isn't such a bad trait. She'll be disappointed if she doesn't end up with that slip-and-slide, but it won't ruin her. It might just make her try harder when the next coloring contest comes around. And that will be a good thing.

We don't give due appreciation to the things in life that come too easily.

What do you think: can over-confidence be a good trait in a writer? Is that what makes us keep trying, keeps us pushing for our elusive goals? Are over-confidence and optimism even the same thing-- two sides of the same coin? How do we make sure our optimism is the healthy kind?

Totally unrelated: Here's the raspberry trifle I made for our family reunion last week. It was gooey, gooey good. Despite loss and rejection, there's always TRIFLE, so chin up all you discouraged writers out there!

WQI with Author Jodi Compton

Today I have a special treat for everyone -- another World's Quickest Interview (WQI), this time with author Jodi Compton, whose newly published book THIEVES GET RICH, SAINTS GET SHOT just hit the shelves yesterday! 

You probably know by now how WQIs work. I ask short questions, authors give me short answers.

Describe your book in one sentence.

An identity-theft story with very high stakes -- two murders are committed -- and a lot of gangland flavor.

How long have you been writing?

Professionally, I started late: 28 years old. Before that, I kept some notebooks for character sketches and story ideas, but didn’t finish anything.

Who or what inspired this book?

My two-book contract: I had to write a sequel to Hailey’s War. Hailey and her world, though, are inspired by my love affair with Los Angeles and its vibrant, high-spirited youth culture. That’s reflected clearly in both books, in which no major character is over the age of 26.

How long did it take you to write this book?

Eight weeks, I think. Then revisions, once for my agent and once for my editor, and those take about the same length of time -- seven to eight weeks per. 

Besides writing, what do you like to do most?

Work out: A day without getting my heart rate up feels slow and dull. Which is not to say I’m rail thin, because I love food, too.

If you had to be an animal, what would you be?

Anything that could fly. Let’s shoot for the moon and go with dragon. 

Play it safe or out on a limb?

Safe. The first thing I do on plane is count the rows to the nearest emergency exit. I’ve always got an escape route planned. 

Chess or Parcheesi?

Chess. I don’t know what Parcheesi is. 

Tell us three things you would do in a perfect day.

Snowboard, sit in a hot tub afterward, have a fantastic evening meal.

Any advice for aspiring writers?

Start now. Don’t wait. 

Thank you so much, Jodi! Your new book sounds so intriguing. And those of you who are writers, aren't you impressed that she wrote it in eight weeks? I know I am!

And by the way, readers....
Sara J. Henry is having a THIEVES GET RICH, SAINTS GET SHOT giveaway on her blog TODAY, so hop on over there and leave a comment to be entered in the drawing, QUICK! Sara has read the book and has awesome things to say about it. 

Truth Tuesday: Boogertoes

I was feeding my baby yesterday

And playing with her toes, because baby toes are meant to be played with 

When I discovered something.

Quite a sizeable booger glued to her big toe.

Which makes me wonder:

1. Yes, I know she has recently discovered her feet. And I know she can get her foot up to her mouth. (Babies are flexible like that.) Perhaps she accidentally picked her nose with her toe?
2. OR, she had the foot up by her face and happened to sneeze?
3. OR, her two-year-old sister has been utilizing baby foot in place of tissue?

Do I look like the kind of baby who would pick my nose with my toes?

This might remain a mystery until the end of time. Any other explanations? Have you ever found boogers in unexpected places?

The Art of Picking Raspberries

Raspberries from my in-law's garden.

 

Today I picked raspberries for a chocolate trifle I'm bringing to a family reunion tomorrow.

I had quite a large container to fill, and as I went along, burrowing through the prickly branches for the ripe berries, I couldn't help but think how much raspberry picking is like editing a story or a novel.

I picked off one section of bushes until I was sure I'd picked all the ripe berries there were to be had and then I moved on ... only to come back a little later to the same bush to find many more plump raspberries, sometimes whole handfuls of them, under a leaf I hadn't lifted before.

Editing is like that, too. We think we're being so thorough, but when we come back even a day later, there are a whole new host of details to tinker with.

Which makes me think that good stories are like living things, just like raspberry bushes: they become complex all by themselves. We plant them and nurture them, we pick them as clean as we can, but there's always more to find in them. As readers, we want stories that leave our hands stained, that are sweet on our tongues. We want the experience. As writers we need to be thorough, but also forgive ourselves for our errors and oversights. We need to realize that, just like raspberry bushes, there's no way to completely tame a good story.

I'll stop mixing metaphors now. Additional thoughts/ramblings? Any raspberries in your future?

Hong Kong Photo Journal: Part 2

Here's the second (and last) installment of the Hong Kong photo journal! To view the first part of our trip, click here.

I should have put this one with the last photo journal entry because this is Naomi up on Sunset Peak (on Lantau Island) in the stone cabin. We nicknamed her "Mountain Baby" because she took to mountain life so readily.  As you can see we were still trapped in a cloud that morning, so the picture is foggy. Such humidity must be good for the skin, right?

My parents took us out to dim sum (traditional Hong Kong breakfast) with one of my dad's students, Mandy, and her adorable baby boy, Joash. Naomi and Joash have an interesting connection. In Chinese, an older boy would call a younger girl mei mei (or mui mui in Cantonese), which literally means "little sister," regardless if he's related to her or not. Younger girls call older boys ge ge (or go go), older girls call younger boys di di, and younger boys call older girls jie jie. Now that you know all that, here's the dilemma: Naomi was born on January 17th at around 7p.m. in Washington State in the United States. Joash was born on January 18th at 1a.m. in Hong Kong. Joash was technically born first, but Naomi's birthday is a day before his. So, who is the mei mei/di di and who is the jie jie/ ge ge? Mandy and I weren't sure what to have our children call each other! Big problem, right?

Gorgeous Hong Kong Island. The building in the distance with the two antennae is the famous Bank of China building. When it was built, many feng shui experts were incensed because they said it looked like a knife being driven into the heart of Hong Kong. Ouch! Wouldn't want to be the architect handling that kind of criticism.

This picture was taken from the Central ferry pier on Hong Kong Island, looking across the harbor at Kowloon. I'd just like to point out the mountain in the background: Lion Rock. It really does look like a lion resting. You can see the head-- the larger lump on the left side of the peak. Directly on the other side of the mountain is Tai Wai/Shatin where my parents live.

A huge skycraper: The IFC building.

We visited Lamma Island and my great friend and critique partner, Dora Tsang. Dora and I were roommates at the SCBWI conference last summer in L.A. (We hadn't known each other before the conference, so it was quite a fluke that we were both from Hong Kong!)  Dora writes pictures books, YA verse novels, and is also an amazing artist. She's just oozing talent, people. Plus, she's an amazing, wonderful person. This picture was taken on the little Lamma ferry.

Isn't Lamma gorgeous? And such beautiful women, too: Dora, my mom and Olivia. This is on Lamma near Dora's house. Look at the beautiful, lush island behind them! We were waiting at the pier to catch the little ferry back to the main part of the island.

Dora and Naomi at Dora's house, with some of Dora's amazing artwork in the background.

Hong Kong was a blast. The time went so fast, but also slowly because it was hard to be away from my dashingly handsome sidekick and the three "middles" for so long. I feel thankful that I was able to visit home for a couple weeks. Next time I'd like to take everyone with me and stay longer!