Listen to the Mustn'ts, child, listen to the Don'ts.
Listen to the Shouldn'ts, the Impossibles, the Won'ts.

Listen to the Never Haves, then listen close to me.
Anything can happen, child, Anything can be.

-Shel Silverstein

Friday, April 27, 2012

The Meaning of a Word

Last night, rain beat incessantly on my bedroom window. I love rain because it makes you feel like curling up with a blanket and hot cocoa or running naked through the streets. It is nature’s gift that brings spring flowers and green grass.

For those of us who own a dog and don’t have any grass to appreciate said gifts, it means this…

Guess what I will be doing today? If you said mopping, you were right! But not because my floors are a disgrace—I will be mopping because it will keep me from having to write.


I guess six days wasn’t long enough to make everything roses again. I have decided to give INSIDIOUS a break while I finish the first 25 pages of my new book. I have a conference in June I need to prepare for so I figured it was a good way to get some distance. Maybe in a few weeks I will be ready.

I did receive two more rejections—one from the full manuscript and one from a query. So, I am still waiting to hear back on three plus the one agent that has my full manuscript.

I wish I had more to blog about today but I’m not in a jovial kind of mood. I received word this morning that last night a dear, sweet man died after a long battle with cancer. His story is one I have followed for years, watching the triumphs and setbacks, the happiness and the heartbreaks. He defied all odds and his family taught me so much about holding strong, being positive and never, never, never giving up.

Cancer is an insidious disease. My grandmother—who died of it thirteen years ago—taught me that. She taught me the meaning of the word and so, even though it’s a silly book about teenage boys and demons, I named it INSIDIOUS for her.

May God be with this man and his sweet family at this difficult time, we love them more than they will know.

1 comment:

  1. I found out last night that my sweet little old lady friend Jony died Friday. Every week when we saw each other at church we would practically race to give each other a ginormous hug and she would comment that my hugs were her favorite. Well hers were mine. She had one of those "jovial" hugging bodies - the kind that swallowed you up when you hugged them because you weren't hugging bones, you were being enveloped in this squishy, blissful softness that made you want to curl up and stay awhile.
    Friday morning Jony's sweet husband said a prayer and told her she could go. She took 2 breaths after he said "amen" and she was gone.

    Sometimes our bodies reject us. Sometimes book publishers reject us. It's really not all that different. We admire those who stare that rejection in the face and say "IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT?!"

    Jony and your friend didn't beat their diseases, but their diseases didn't beat them. Winning for them was in how they played the game. I think someday you will be published. And if you're not...you still win.

    Have fun mopping!