Drum roll, please! My cookbook Comfortably Yum: Food for Body and Spirit is now available at an e-store near you! It will show up on Amazon sometime in the next week, but this link is working fine.

It's gratifying to hold a copy of it in my hands after so many months of work. Looking through it, I think it's a pretty great collection of recipes, and I'm very excited that all my favorites are now in one place. If you're new to my blog and wonder what kind of stuff you might find in the cookbook, click on any of the posts tagged Delicious Dish.

I owe big thanks to many people on Planet Blog for their generous support; all my readers are wonderful, but a few stand out. Deb Barshafsky and Charrette for coming up with the book's title. Kymburlee, Brillig, Annette Lyon, and Anne Bradshaw have been fabulous angels of generosity.

Now I think I'll go make something from Comfortably Yum to celebrate. Hmm...Sticky Toffee Pudding? Stuffed Mushrooms? Tuscan Chicken? Dulce de Leche Squares? So many choices....

**UPDATE** CreateSpace (the company I used to publish my book) DOES ship orders internationally. Those of you in Canada, Europe, and the U.K. should not have any problem using the link above to purchase my book.

How patient you have been! My cookbook Comfortably Yum should be available on Amazon any day now. Check back here in a day or two, and I'll give you all the details. (Click on the image above for a larger view of the adorable cover designed by Gary Brown, my uber-talented brother-in-law.)

"Oh, no," some of you are thinking. "I've heard those words before. I know what they mean." And you're partly right.

I've just gotten back from a ten-day trip Out West. I'm still re-adjusting to Eastern Daylight Time, not eating in restaurants at least once per day, and being a mom to more than one child. As I do so, I'm mulling over all I learned.

David Farland's Professional Writers' Workshop was worth every penny and minute invested. Dave is a guru, coach, talespinner, and incisive yet kind critic. I acquired much information that will improve both the quality of my storytelling and the quantity of my output. I got to know a group of writers whose skill sets, needs, and goals are very similar to mine, and I look forward to extensive interaction with them in the future. I left Saint George burning to closet myself and write, write, write. But of course, things are more complicated than that.

The garden needs to be planted (and weeded, oh yes, my precious). Baseball and lacrosse seasons are in full swing. We have concerts and recitals and birthdays, oh my! In other words, my real life is full and runneth over. How to fit in a bit more fiction writing time?

It's time for another round of streamlining of my daily schedule. Clearly I can't cut back on kid time or Patrick time or scriptures or exercise. The calling and the yard won't tolerate much skimping, either.

That leaves you, dear blogosphere. Both my reading and my posting have been erratic since Anne was born, so you've already gotten used to much less of my time and attention. I won't be gone forever, but don't expect a whole lot in the near future. This will be easier for you than it will be for me, I'm sure. I'm betting you won't even really notice.

My short story "Truck Stop" appears in the latest issue of the new webzine Noctober. I must tell you: it's in excellent company. The other stories are really good; they tell of all sorts of creepy shenanigans involving coffee, ponds, paintings, carpets, and ivy. My favorites are "The Water Lily Room" and "The Garden Keeps His Confidences." Let me know what you think!

Long ago, I posted about resources I keep on my desk for use when I write; today, for your reading pleasure, I'll focus on online helps for writers. Writing is a solitary pursuit, but a writer should never feel alone when searching for help. The Web has so many sites for writers that one could easily spend all day perusing them instead of actually writing. Don't fall into that trap. Instead, use the sites listed below to help make the most of your writing.

All Writers:
William Shunn is a fabulous show-and-tell site illustrating exactly how to get your manuscript into the format that most publishing markets prefer.

Query Shark is another amazing show-and-tell site. It's the blog of prominent literary agent Janet Reid, who posts her edits of query letters submitted to her. My writer friend Melissa recently reminded me of this site, and I'm so glad she did. You can learn a ton by browsing through the archives and seeing what works (and what emphatically does not work) in a query letter. Ms. Reid doesn't call herself 'Shark' for nothing; she doesn't pull any punches. But she's always right, as far as I can see.

Scribophile touts itself as a free social networking site for writers, but I think it's more useful than that. Members can post works to be critiqued by peers and can critique the works of others in turn (there's a point system to it all). Writers can participate in forums for every interest from haiku to perfecting the art of speed pitching. Scribophile also hosts writing contests with some pretty sweet prizes. One runs the risk of spending a good bit of time vacuuming the cat here, but a motivated writer could also find a lot of help.

Nathan Bransford, Literary Agent is another blog, and that title always cracks me up (think "International Man of Mystery"). The San Francisco-based Nathan is young and looks like a surfer dude, but he's very much on the ball. He takes writing and publishing seriously, but is never self-important. Read his "Essentials" (links are halfway down on his sidebar), and you'll get a good and accurate education on the particulars of today's publishing world.

"Dave Farland's Daily Kick in the Pants" is an email series written by the phenomenally successful Dave Farland/David Wolverton. Dave is as generous as he is gifted, and that's really saying something. His goal is to remind people to write on a daily basis. He addresses all sorts of topics, often prompted by questions members of his large following send him. If you'd like to subscribe, email davidfarland@xmission.com and say "Kick me!"

Short Fiction Writers and Poets:
Duotrope's Digest is fantastic. It lists thousands of markets for all genres of short fiction and poetry and gives vital information on response times for each. It also has a terrific Submissions Tracker tool; I use it to keep track of where I've sent my stories. Duotrope is completely free, but if you find it useful, consider donating to the site to help keep it running.

Speculative Fiction Writers:
Whatever is the blog of science fiction writer John Scalzi. Scalzi is smart, successful, and endlessly entertaining (and his book Zoe's Tale made my 2008 Top Ten list). He hosts a regular series of interviews with other published writers called "The Big Idea"; these informative and inspiring posts outline how recently published writers came up with and developed their stories.

Submitting to the Black Hole is another website that lists response times, but it includes speculative fiction book publishers as well as short fiction markets. Believe me, when your story has been out in some editor's slush pile for weeks upon weeks, it can help calm anxiety to visit the Black Hole and realize that you are not alone. I always report my response times to both Duotrope and the Black Hole.

Ralan's Webstravaganza lists all kinds of markets for speculative fiction and humor writers: anthologies, books, and periodicals of every form and payscale. Ralan works very hard to keep his site updated and accurate, and often has the scoop on the newest changes to markets. He also gratefully accepts donations.

LDS Writers:
LDSStorymakers is a website devoted to the growing LDS publishing market. It includes links, a calendar of events, and a market directory. LDSStorymakers hosts a writers' conference every spring; see the website for more details.

The Association for Mormon Letters boasts a market directory as well as information on regional writers' guilds and an extensive review archive. The AML also publishes the periodical Irreantum twice yearly, which devotes space both to scholarly articles and to fiction and poetry.

There you have it: the online resources I've found most useful. Do you know of any I haven't mentioned? If so, please let me know!

I was looking for a quote on resolutions to kick off this post, but I got distracted by re-reading and snickering over my favorite 'demotivating' posters at the ever-fabulous Despair, Inc. Here I am again, and now I can't take any of the absolutely lovely sayings of Benjamin Franklin, Winston Churchill, and the like seriously any more today. Go visit Despair, and you'll see what I mean.

Though I love a good bit of snark, I'm not a cynic, especially not when it comes to goals and dreams. I have a couple of resolutions that I'm keeping to myself for the moment, but I have some writing plans that I wanted to share. Here are a few of my goals for 2009:

1) Read 100 books.

I usually read close to 80 (and I do keep lists), but last year's unique circumstances only allowed me to get through about 40. Life's too short for numbers that low; assuming I live another 50 years, if I only average 40 books per year for the rest of my life, I will have only read another 2,000 books.

Depressing: I'm sure I could go on Amazon and find close to that 2,000 that look appealing right this very minute, and that doesn't take into account all of the treasures to be published in years to come. I like the number 5,000 much, much better. We'll see how it goes.

I believe very strongly that a writer must read as much as possible. The more you read, the better you'll write. Patrick, when reading this, will want to interject something here. Be patient, honey; "wait for it" (sorry--inside joke).

2) Sell a novel. I really don't mind which one.

On this very day one year ago, I mailed out ten query packages to agents and publishing houses. Over the next several months, I received eight rejections and had two non-responses; I still expect to hear from one of those, since the slush pile at that house is roughly 12 months deep, but the other I have written off completely. Flaky agent.

Then Anne came along, and I decided to concentrate on short stories for a while. I have enjoyed developing a new side of my talent; more on that farther down the post. But now I feel ready to get my books out to people again. The fact that David Farland/Wolverton has accepted me into his novel-writing workshop--to be held this April--has refueled my long-form-writing fires. I can't wait to go!

3) Have 5 short stories published.

I've already submitted two to new venues in the past couple of days. Both have been rejected elsewhere, but I have confidence in them and am sure that both will eventually find homes. More of their siblings will follow suit. I'm using Patrick's parking philosophy as I market them.

When I park my car, I generally look towards the emptier end of the lot or street, but Patrick gets as close to the door of his destination as possible, then circles outward. Though his approach runs counter to my instincts, it does tend to get results. So instead of starting at the bottom of the the short story food chain, I'm starting at the top.

For my short stories, I have a list of the SFWA-approved markets. To qualify for membership in the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA), one must either publish a novel with a company on their approved list, or publish three short stories with periodicals on a similarly exclusive list. It's a short list, my friends, made up of the top-tier magazines in my chosen field. I've started there and am now circling outward. I covet SFWA membership and am doing all I can to get it.

4) Keep Tuesday nights and Fridays as sacred as possible.

I can usually sneak an hour or so of writing in any given day, but larger chunks of time for writing are as rare as hen's teeth given my current situation in life. I do have Tuesday nights and Fridays from 9:30 to 3:30, though. It's not much time, but I am very grateful to have it.

I will resist the temptation to do other things on Tuesday nights and Fridays, fun things like visiting with friends or watching movies. Instead, I will write. Why? Because a writer writes. If you're thinking about writing or talking about writing or doing something else that isn't writing, you're not a writer.

Do you have any goals for 2009? If so, I'd love to know that I'm not the only one; let me know, and we'll keep each other accountable.

Oh, and just in case you didn't recognize this post's title, here's one of my favorite Emily Dickinson poems:

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

"No one is able to enjoy such feast as the one who throws a party in his own mind."--Selma Lagerlöf

Nearly 100 years ago, Swedish writer Selma Lagerlöf was the first woman to win a Nobel Prize for Literature; her birthday is next week. The above quote of hers perfectly describes the reason why I continue to write despite such distractions as a romantic husband, six adventurous children, a busy church life, and several absorbing hobbies. The party in my mind keeps pulling me back. Here's what's happening in my writing life lately.

According to lulu.com, my cookbook Comfortably Yum will be ready to order in 6-8 weeks. After I completed the manuscript, I was disappointed to find that it wouldn't be available more quickly--i.e. in time for Christmas--but I'll let you know the minute it comes out.

I'm waiting to hear from a couple of different magazines regarding short stories I've submitted to them. Submitting short stories to magazines is much less painful than submitting novels to publishing houses; my theory is that I'm less invested in short stories because they take so much less time and energy to write. I've successfully weathered many rejections in the past several months. So cross your fingers for this latest round! I would be so thrilled to be published by Strange Horizons, for example.

After the holidays, I'll probably dust off my fantasy novels The Holly Place and ZF-360 and try submitting them to agents again. I am thinking about re-titling both of them.

I got a card from a woman who recently read Shannon's Mirror and loved it. Fan correspondence is pure gold; I keep a file of things like this to pull out and review when I'm feeling discouraged and talentless.

I've started a new novel called Thrice Liam. It's the story of a grieving young widow who gradually becomes convinced that her new neighbor is actually her husband. Ghost story or portrait of a psychological breakdown? You'll have to read and see....

Last and almost as exciting as starting a new novel--I got accepted to Dave Farland's annual Professional Novel Writing Workshop, to be held next April in Saint George, Utah. Dave Farland, who also writes under his real name, David Wolverton, is a hugely successful writer. Apparently he's a terrific teacher as well; past workshop students of his include Brandon Sanderson and Jessica Day George. I am really looking forward to five days of fabulous instruction and growth next spring.

Obviously, one area of writing upon which I am not concentrating is ye olde blog. I only have so many WEUs at any given time, so be patient with me and keep coming back to visit.

Thank you to everyone who participated in my Book Naming Contest. I'm sorry to have taken so long to decide on a title, but it was a three-way tie in my mind for quite a long time. Many of you had terrific ideas, and every comment made me smile.

The tie was broken when I decided to combine two submissions, which means there are two winners who will each receive formal acknowledgment in the book and her own signed copy.

The lucky winners are:

Charrette! and Deb!

And the title of my forthcoming cookbook is:

Comfortably Yum: Food for Body and Spirit

My goal is to finish up the publishing details on Friday; I'll let you know as soon as the book is ready to ship!

I'm thrilled (and a bit nervous) to announce that I've been writing a cookbook, and that I am self-publishing it through Lulu. If you have ever enjoyed one of my recipes (filed under the Delicious Dish category to the right), then I think you'll find this cookbook to be a great addition to your kitchen shelf. I've been having a blast re-testing many of my recipes to make sure they're worthy of publication; it has been a fun project.

Here's the only problem: I can't think of a title that I like. I've bounced a few ideas around with Patrick, but nothing has really worked for us. So I open the question to you, my faithful and patient readers. Can you think of a great title for my cookbook? Something that is witty, original, thoughtful, and connotes deliciousness? Something that will compel the consumer to buy ten copies as holiday gifts this season?

If so, submit it to me in the form of a comment on this post. (No, Pez, I am NOT just fishing for comments here. No, I'm not.) Do me a favor and run your submission through Google or another search engine beforehand, just to make sure it hasn't been used somewhere before.

If I choose your submission as the title of my book, I'll not only mention you prominently in the acknowledgments, I'll send you a signed copy free!

So put on your thinking caps and get to work! I can't wait to see what you come up with.

I recently sold a short story called "Dodmen and the Holophusikon," and it is now available as a FREE podcast on the website of the e-zine Steampod.org.

The story is 'steampunk,' a subgenre of science fiction in which the setting is an 'alternate history' world--in this case, a Victorian England which has developed computer technology powered by steam engines. If that weren't weird enough, the main characters are all mammals. Talking mammals, even.

I would be so delighted if this new start-up e-zine were flooded by responses (hopefully positive) to the story. The pay wasn't much, but I am very happy to have the publishing credit.

Would you be willing to take a few minutes and listen? Here's the link:

http://steampod.org/2008/08/episode-7-dodmen-and-the-holophusikon/

And if any of you would like to blog about the story and link to it, I'd be forever in your debt. Really. Throughout eternity.

Thank you so much!

Ahh, my bloggy friends. Time flies when you're having fun; I can't believe how fast the last three months have gone by. Thanks for your patience and all of the good wishes you've sent our way. How have you all fared in my absence?

I owe you many things:

1. Update on Anne: she's fabulous. She's healthy, alert, beautiful, smiley, sleeping through the night, and nursing like a champ: definitely worth every bit of trouble!

2. The end to this Soap Opera Sunday story: I'll try to get to it in the next couple of weeks. (How have you all stood the suspense?)

3. A review of the fantasy novel Far World: Water Keep and an interview with J. Scott Savage, the author. Back in April, I committed to be part of Scott's Far World Blog Tour, and told him I'd be available to do that at the end of August. Which would be now. I'll have this post up next week.

4. The recipe for Brookies, the delectable brownie/blondie/cookie bar that no one can stop eating. I'm drooling at the mere thought of them. Soon, very soon. They are phenomenal and well worth the wait.

5. A report on Bacon Chocolate Chip Cookies (and a shipment of same to a certain special someone and partner). Also nearly ready to go.

6. The news that I sold a short story! The online magazine SteamPod bought my short story "Dodmen and the Holophusikon" and is producing it as a podcast that will be available for your download-and-listening pleasure in the next few days. I am thrilled that my story will follow that of Paul di Filippo, a writer I greatly admire. I'll post the direct link to my story the second it is ready.

7. Updated photos of everyone: Done (see above)!

8. I'm sure I'm missing other things you've been expecting (no, Lori, I haven't forgotten that the Grammar Fascista promised to address the dreaded 'lie/lay' issue). Remind me, and I'll see what I can do.

My online time is very limited still; I can read while feeding Anne, but one-handed typing is not my favorite thing. It's also been liberating not to worry about the dreaded feedcrack cravings that accompany blogging (at least, for me they do); I need to be careful that my addictive tendencies don't take over and encroach on essential real-life stuff. I guess all I can promise is my best, right?

From Teh Wikipedia:

A ruminant is any artiodactyl mammal that digests its food in two steps, first by eating the raw material and regurgitating a semi-digested form known as cud from within their first stomach, known as the rumen. The process of again chewing the cud to break down the plant matter and stimulate digestion is called ruminating. Ruminants include cattle, goats, sheep, camels, alpacas, llamas, giraffes, American Bison, European bison, yaks, water buffalo, deer, wildebeest and antelope. The suborder Ruminantia includes all those except the camels and llamas, which are Tylopoda. Ruminants also share another anatomical feature in that they all have an even number of toes.

I, my friends, am a ruminant. Not literally (though I do have an even number of toes); what I mean to say is that the process of story creation is for me a ruminative process.

I realized this yesterday. Poor Patrick was trying to have a phone conversation with me, and I kept dropping the dang ball and staring off into space. I had been thinking about an idea for a new story when the phone rang, and it was so intriguing that I couldn't keep my brain trained on the here-and-now. Chewing that tasty cud, chewing, chewing...what, honey? Did you say something?

There's a great scene in one of my favorite movies of all time, Blade Runner, in which Detective Deckard is using a computer scanner to examine a photograph for clues. It's a pretty crummy snapshot, but because Deckard takes the time to focus on different parts of the image, then enlarge and enhance those sections for clarity, he finds a crucial clue that allows him to solve the mystery before him. I realize that this technology is now used all the time as a plot device on TV shows like CSI, but believe me, back in the day (that would be 1982), this scene was unutterably cool. (It still is, in fact. Let's go pop it in the DVD player, shall we?)

Most of my story ideas come from dreams. The kernels of both novels I'm shopping around town, The Holly Place and ZF-360, were crazy, vivid nightmares, the details of which I wrote down in my Idea Journal as soon as possible after waking up. I'm the only person I know who enjoys having nightmares, by the way; all I can think about in the morning is whether the dream is a viable story idea or not.

In my experience, it usually is. Yesterday I wanted to start something new, so I went back through my Idea Journal and found a dream fragment from several years ago. The mystery and wonder of the original image grabbed me all over again, but it was only the most hazy of concepts. I methodically worked on the material--focus, enhance; focus, enhance--until details started making themselves known to me.

To work the cud, I have to get myself into an obsessive, almost trance-like state. That's when the process really starts to Flow. Of course, that's also when laundry, appointments, and family members run the risk of being ignored, because in the Flow, Time itself seems to stop and dilate. It doesn't, of course; it just seems that way, which can cause problems. Another problem is that the Flow is so delicious that it's hard to leave it behind and return to reality. It's the best drug ever.

I tell non-writers that writing is even more transporting than reading. Think of a novel that swept you away so thoroughly that you didn't hear the phone ring, didn't realize you were hungry or thirsty or exhausted, and when it ended you either wanted to cry or to start it all over again, because you loved being in that world that much. That's how writing is for me; that's why I do it.

And that is why I wrote almost not at all for the first twelve years of my mothering career. I didn't want to resent my kids for distracting me, so I gave up the cud--went pretty much cold turkey off that Flow crack--until I felt I could handle a more mature balance. Am I handling it now? I think so, but 20 years from now, my kids may tell their therapists an entirely different tale.

Now let me get back to my new story. It's called "The Summer Room," and I'm totally in love with it. Let's hope some editor feels the same way.

1) All credit for the blog's new look goes to the über-gifted Kim of Temporary? Insanity. She's got a fun thing going with her Template Tweakings website; go check it out if you are feeling the need for a spring makeover. Thanks, hon! I love it. I'll figure out how to put my blogroll back on the sidebar eventually....

2) Christian got his braces on this week and played his first lacrosse games today. We had to get him some gear this week in preparation. His new cleats? Men's size 13, thank you very much. They look like Jaredite barges, I'm telling you.

Christian is loving lacrosse and looks very manly trotting around the field in all his armor while brandishing the 6-foot-long defensive stick. Ahh, my little boy. I'd better stop before I start crooning "Sunrise, Sunset."

3) All debate over the next presidential candidate should end now. Why? Because Tess has the perfect platform, set forth in a school assignment for Presidents' Day last month:

Here's the transcription, edited for spelling:

"If I were president I would help the poor people and I would give the poor food and I would give the poor children toys. And I would stop the war."

We're still working on spelling and punctuation, but note her correct use of the subjunctive. Now we just need to get an amendment passed changing the minimum age for a presidential candidate from 35 to 6.

4) I've been waiting for two years for iTunes to acquire Wire's 154. I checked today, and they finally had it! What a fantastic album; I'll have to do a "Music Monday" on it at some point.

5) The pregnancy is progressing miraculously well, I'm thrilled to report. Tomorrow marks the end of Week 28; by this time with both Tess and Daniel, I was on bed rest. Not so this time; I'm getting around with no pain, and while I'm tired, I've had enough brain function to write consistently and to make it to Day 81 (and counting) of the Read the Bible in 90 Days study program I started back on January 2nd.

6) I'm still racking up the rejections as I shop The Holly Place and ZF-360 around. In the meantime, I've been writing short stories and sending them out to various genre periodicals. This has been great fun! (The short story part, not the rejection-of-my-novels part; that part is really lame.) For anyone interested in writing sf/fantasy short stories, you simply must check out Ralan's fabulous website. It has been an invaluable resource for me.

I don't think I'll start another novel anytime soon; the short story groove is working well for me (for the first time in my whole life), and I don't want to commit to anything longer until after we settle into some sort of routine with the new baby. So, you know, that could be this time next year (or the year after), for all I can predict.

I guess that's it for now. I missed you all during my bloggy break; I think I'm back on board for the moment. Oh--and the post title? This is post #250 for me. Wow. Happy Easter!

Example No. 1: Several days ago, I read Ex Libris, a collection of Anne Fadiman's essays, and immediately emailed several friends recommending that they read it. Like a beautiful jewel in a simple setting, each essay shines; considered one after another, the pieces create an aggregate loveliness that is even greater than the sum of its parts.

How disappointing it is to me to admit that my admiration for Fadiman's talent is heavily tinged with envy. It's not just that her writing is superb; my jealousy extends to her person. I've never read Homer and Virgil in the original; I don't live in a spacious and bright SoHo loft. I didn't go to Radcliffe College. Worst of all, I've never been friends with Mark Helprin.

(Many of you know that Helprin is my hands-down-favorite living writer. After hearing him read once, I asked him to sign all my copies of his books, congratulating myself all the while for my restraint in not dropping to my knees and kissing his penny-loafered feet. My love for him as a person is now tempered by my knowledge of his political leanings, but his writing remains pure magic.)

Example No. 2: I'm submitting a short story for an anthology put out by Shimmer magazine, the theme of which is 'steampunk animal fables.' (Yes, it's exactly that kind of crazy obscurity that really gets my creative juices flowing.) As much as I love the steampunk subgenre, it's been awhile since I've read any, so I pulled out two pillars--Gibson and Sterling's The Difference Engine and China Mieville's Perdido Street Station--to get myself in the rhythm of that unique world. Such wonder and ingenuity; such marvelous stories told in liquid and transparent prose. Instead of the inspiration I was hoping for, I put the books down with a sense of loving despair.

The Case Under Consideration: At last year's Readercon, Eric Van said, "There are two kinds of books that a writer reads: those that make you say, 'I can do better than this [crap],' and those that make you want to throw the computer out the window and never write another word." Other writers agreed. Some said they couldn't read within their own genre while working on a manuscript, while others went further and said that they saved all their favorite authors for rests between projects. If they read books they admired while simultaneously trying to write their own, they found themselves hamstrung, hopelessly blocked by the indulgence of comparison.

Writers are not alone in the comparison obsession; I've witnessed people of all kinds doing it. Children, women, men; doctors, painters, knitters; athletes, musicians, writers of computer code; cooks, bloggers, and parents. Each says to him/herself, "I can't [x] like that one. Why even try?" Or, with a shot to the ego, "My [x] is much better than that person's is." Either way, his/her own work suffers, because its creator no longer sees it for its own merits, but only in the relief it casts (or doesn't) when considered against someone else's.

If the work suffers, why would we risk short-circuiting expressions of creativity by indulging in comparison? What compensation is there for the loss of self-esteem or the false gain of a short-lived high?

(I have some highly metaphysical theories having to do with universal forces of opposition and the adversarial components of creation that attempt to answer these questions, but I won't burden you with them. At this point in my blogging life, I have a fair sense as to what will cause my readers' eyes to glaze over and their index fingers to click onward.)

Discernment is an essential part of emotional maturation. Having a distinct yet open-minded sense of one's likes and dislikes is healthy. We are taught to judge thoughtfully, to compare and contrast. "Write a 2,000-word essay discussing the relative merits of Shelley's 'Ozymandias' and Horace Smith's 'Ozymandias,'" our English professor commands, and we do our best to comply (and are graded on a curve for doing so). After we see Joe Wright's Pride and Prejudice, all our friends ask how it compares with Simon Langton's. Was the clam chowder at Ocean House better than that at The Oyster Bar? Exactly why are Huggies better than Pampers or Luvs? Inquiring minds want to know.

When the comparison is removed from our own realm of expertise, we can be passionate in our discussion without taking it personally. Which is better: Ted Nugent's guitar work in "Stranglehold," or Stevie Ray Vaughan's in "Voodoo Chile?" I can discuss the strong points of each virtuoso animatedly, but with a sense of detachment; I'm not a guitarist, just an ardent fan.

In similar fashion, excellent blogs like Radioactive Jam and Ransom Note Typography inspire pure admiration in me; their posts are so very different from mine that there's not much basis for comparison. (If, on the other hand, you are the owner of a blog on my blogroll that is not one of the two mentioned above, have no doubt: I love you, but I envy you, too.)

Is there a way for me to evaluate my own writing in a vacuum; can I hand a story to a friend to read without adding the self-deprecating caveat, "It's not Tolstoy?" My friend and I both know I'm not Tolstoy; why is it so essential to my pride that I remind her of that salient fact?

In the realm of hobby: can I knit a sweater and enjoy it for its own sake without wondering what Eunny Jang or Amy Singer would think? Can I enjoy the neighbor's perennial border without wretched feelings of woe when I look at my own?

It is when comparison is turned inward that it poisons. I take absolutely no joy in a sense of competition with others (no, not even when I'm beating you at Boggle). It's my goal to get to a secure enough place emotionally that I can appreciate the work of others without compulsively analyzing how it stands up next to my own. How to get there? I'm still fumbling around on that key point of strategy; when I puzzle it out, I'll let you know.

And if you figure it out first, please share. I'll be disappointed that I wasn't the one for only a minute, I promise.

3) Last, but most exciting: The Writing Game results are up! If you'd like to read a short story I wrote this week called "Truck Stop," as well as a lot of other fine tales, follow the happy link . I'd love to know what you think.

I've been working on a fun new story, part of Jen at A2eatwrite's Writing Game.


Check back here on Thursday to read the results! (Oh, don't worry; I'm sure I'll post something else in the meantime.)

In one of the first scenes of the movie The Two Towers, several orcs argue over what to do with Merry and Pippin, their hostages. Some of the monsters would like to eat the hobbits; others are determined to follow orders and bring them back to their master. A fight ensues; one orc is killed in the process. The mob is momentarily shocked into silence, until its leader, Uglúk (pictured above) utters the memorable line that titles this post, and the orcs fall to.

It's one of the few times director Peter Jackson indulges in a little action-movie-crowd-pleasing cheesiness; it's the "Hasta la vista, baby" line of the film. As grisly as it is, I love the scene; the way I see it, the orcs are making the best of a bad situation. They've found the silver lining to a pretty dark cloud.

I went to the mailbox this morning with more than my usual apprehension; somehow I knew unpleasant news waited inside. Sure enough, I pulled a self-addressed, stamped envelope out of the stack; it was another rejection letter. This is the third I've received since sending out a gaggle of eleven query packages at the very beginning of the month (five on The Holly Place and six on ZF-360).

This letter was the least desirable type of rejection: an impersonal form letter on which even the signature was photocopied. It's the kind of information that makes me realize how large, yet how pathetically fragile my ego is. I know dealing with rejection is a part of any professional writer's life, just as frogging is a part of knitting and diapers are a part of mothering. I also know that querying is to getting published as dating is to getting married; you've got to find just the right partner to make things work. I know these things intellectually, so I'm trying to buck up and not take the rejection personally.

(But it feels personal. I told a writer friend the day I mailed the last of the packages off, "My babies are going out into the world. It feels like sending Christian [my 14-year-old] off to college." She answered, "No! It feels like sending Daniel [my 4-year-old] off to college!" And she was right.)

I decided when I got today's letter that I'd make my own silver lining: Christian, Daniel and I would go out for lunch (Christian is home early all this week due to mid-term exams). When I need to restore my sense of well-being, a thick, juicy cheeseburger is just the ticket, so we headed down to Garrison Market and indulged. It wasn't fresh orc, but it was mighty tasty.

So this is me, striving for sanguinity. At least the black dog is nowhere in sight; I really am fine, and I've got great plans for the rest of the day. I'll spend the evening at the Manhattan Temple with Patrick and another dear friend, and then the three of us will try out the highly rated and fabulous-sounding Café Gray, where not only meat like Pan-Seared Duck Breast, but also deliciousness like Skate Schnitzel, Lobster-Watermelon Salad, and Cherry Brown Butter Tart are featured on the menu.

And who knows what tomorrow's mail will bring? When it's all said and done, I'm sure the right thing will happen. Right?

Yup, that's me--it's pretty much how I think of myself still, even though this picture was taken about 37 years ago. My dad is a phenomenal photographer; one of my earliest memories is of going to a friend's house for a playdate and asking, "Well, where's your darkroom?"

There's a lot of pretty nerdy stuff going on with me at the moment; allow me to share some details.

1) I'm trying out some new software designed specifically for writers of longer works (e.g. novels, research papers). It's called Scrivener, and so far, it seems to overcome a lot of MS Word's shortcomings. Plus, its name is all cool and Melvillian; I love it.

I have two novels I'm marketing at the moment: ZF-360 and The Holly Place. Both are long--around 95,000 words--and with Word I haven't had a good solution for maneuvering around in these mammoth pieces of writing. With ZF, I broke the manuscript up by chapters, but that makes things like a global search and replace completely tedious. THP, on the other hand, is one big document, which makes scrolling to a particular chapter or page quite painful. Scan, overshoot; scan the other way, overshoot again; resist the temptation to commit seppuku--perhaps you know what I mean.

Scrivener was created by a writer, and it has a lot of cool features that are fabulously intuitive and easy to use. Finding all the parts of a manuscript written in one point of view, for example, to check for continuity: easy-peasy. Moving chunks (big or small) around: lead-pipe cinch. Saving a version before making some experimental, wholesale changes, then switching back if that doesn't work: no problem. I don't want to be hasty, but so far? Scrivener = Awesome. If you are a Mac-using writer, go check out the 30-day free trial.

2) I think I'm finally going to move all of my genealogy stuff from my desktop to my Mac. This means I need to buy Reunion, since PAF only works for Windows. But it will be great to have my massive pedigree chart and family group sheet collection fully mobile; I think it will be worth the work.

As always, I am not being compensated for my endorsements in any way whatsoever.

3) I do love me a good anagram, so imagine my delight when my pal Herb forwarded a link to this site to me. Scroll all the way down to near the bottom of the page (under the "Try GMP" section), then input any text you like to find a list of one-, two-, or three-word anagrams.

My favorite of my full name is 'limelike sulpharsenic.' It makes me want to run right out and buy that as a domain name. Here are some others for the rest of the family:

Patrick: skerret triarchy pipkin
Christian: kindliness polyarthic
James: sheepskin present jam
Hope: nurselike pieshop
Tess: diespark insensate
Daniel: jinn purselike dead
New Baby: spinnaker webby

Oh, you have no idea what a timesucker this particular little site could become for me if I let it....
That's all for now, my friends! Stay tuned for more "fablious" (as Tess would say) geekery coming your way soon.

Patrick (to whom modifiers cannot possibly do justice) contributed today's topic to my month-long NaBloPoMo Scavenger Hunt, asking (in a comment using one of his various pseudonyms), "How can one use alliteration without sounding like Dr. Seuss?"

Marcella Hazan, one of my favorite cookbook authors, once wrote that spices should be used as "as a halo and not as a club." In other words, they should enhance rather than overwhelm a dish.

I believe the same holds true for alliteration. Use it in small doses; employ assonance and consonance as well to mix it up a bit. All three can be combined very effectively in poetry:

"The moan of doves in immemorial elms,
And murmuring of innumerable bees." (Tennyson)

They are usually distracting when overused in prose, however (unless specifically employed as a mnemonic device, such as in a sermon or other didactic piece).

To be honest, I wish more people could sound like Dr. Seuss. What sets his work far above many of his imitators was not his love for alliteration but his strict adherence to his poetic meter of choice. Flaubert wrote, "Poetry is as precise as geometry," and that certainly is true of the writing of Dr. Seuss.

He wrote many of his early books, like And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street, in anapestic tetrameter. What does all that polysyllabic Greek mean?

An anapest is a rhythmic unit, or 'foot,' composed of two unstressed syllables followed by a stressed syllable, as in the word 'underneath' or the phrase 'in the car.' 'Tetrameter' means that there are four feet to each line. Read the title of the book in the above paragraph, and you'll get it. Or, here's Lord Byron: "And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea" (and dig that alliteration, baby).

Sometimes Seuss would eliminate the first weak syllable and/or tack one on at the end of a line, as in "In all the whole town, the most wonderful spot," which is the first line of If I Ran the Circus. But this has always been an acceptable adaptation of the meter.

He also wrote in trochaic tetrameter (trochees are feet that have a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed syllable, as in 'doughnut' or 'hard hat'), sometimes mixing it up with iambic tetrameter (iambs are feet that have an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable, like 'begin' or 'to be'). In Green Eggs and Ham, the two main characters have very different poetic voices: once speaks in iambs, the other mostly in trochees.

Whatever his chosen meter, it was flawless, which makes his writing a joy to read out loud. Dr. Seuss would often labor for months over his deceptively simple texts so that he could express the story's ideas and images while maintaining pristine rhythm. My favorite of his is called "Too Many Daves," found in the collection The Sneetches and Other Stories. It's perfect, I tell you, perfect.

Imitators today don't have his discipline and discerning ear; therefore their stories sound clumsy and clunky. I won't name names, but I've read far too many children's books that use poetical meter in a halfhearted sort of way, thinking that an end-rhyme will cover a multitude of sins. Not so.

The Cat in the Hat has sold over seven million copies because even toddlers and their parents who don't know an anapest from a dactyl recognize this formula:

Brilliantly imagined plot and characters + hypnotic, never-stumbling rhythm = story that never gets stale.

(Take it from me, the mother of five Seuss-lovers; I've probably read that book two thousand times in the past fourteen years.)

If you want to create rhythmic, rhyming children's books with that kind of selling and staying power, read Byron and Tennyson and Longfellow and study their meters. Be as precise as a geometer in your content and in your form.

It wouldn't hurt if you could draw fantastical creatures, buildings, and machines in an accessible, instantly recognizable style while you're at it. But that's a subject for a whole other post.

Christine's question for today's Scavenger Hunt post is:

What would you do if you could wave a magic wand and completely remove from the world, or at least from the English language, one each of the following;
A colloquialism
A common written grammatical error
A single abbreviation
A homonym, in whole or part
A ‘mis-definable’ term (example if a tin-whistle is made of tin, then what is a foghorn made of? You probably even know the linguistic name for such a thing.)

Oh, how this Grammar Fascista wishes she had a Fairy Godmother to do just this sort of thing. Then she would not be reduced to yelling at the television and billboards in her frustration over The Decline and Fall of the English Language.