A Tardy Start to October

Hey, it's October! That means I can watch TV again… Check. I watched some in my hotel room while my evil twin was attending a smut writers' conference last week, actually, before September was even officially over. So sue me. No wait, don't.

Anyhow, now that I'm back and no longer suffering from food poisoning (possibly from the scrambled eggs I so gloatingly overloaded on at the hotel's breakfast buffet) it's time to get with the program for October. Or rather, Ommmctober, the month during which I practice yoga every day, for a minimum of thirty minutes. I could actually desperately use it, right about now. At the best of times I'm an intermediate yoga student, flexible if not especially strong…my lifts are woeful, but I can do an enviable upward bow. Right about now, I'm at least three weeks overdue for even a basic stretching session. Probably no coincidence I've been a bit of a basket case the last month or so.

Here's my little lamp-lit yoga space, in my office:

Check the hourglass, which is actually a half-hourglass (thanks, Mom) perfect for making sure I get my thirty minutes minimum in. And that's it, really. I'm off to punish my hamstrings and attain bliss.

Stuff that's good…

I spent so much of May in a rough mood, I wanted to write a post about stuff that's good. So without further ado, here are some awesome things.

1. A new season of The Bachelorette. My favorite guilty TV pleasure…until Instant Watcher posts another season of Celebrity Rehab, anyhow. I'm saving yesterday's episode for tomorrow afternoon, once I've hit my word count goal and tackled a bit of design freelance and wine o'clock rolls around. And whenever possible, I like to complement a new-sale bottle of champagne with an episode of The Bachelor or Bachelorette. I figure if I poison both my mind and body at once, they'll cancel each other out. So far this season I'm rooting for two of the dudes—West and JP. Not sure they've got the best chemistry with Ashley out of the whole group, but I hereby declare them my top-pick foxy front runners.

2. Neko Case. I've been listening to her 2006 album Fox Confessor Brings the Flood practically non-stop for the past month. Love love love. It's already right up there in my moody-folky-chick-rock favorites list beside Patty Griffin's Flaming Red and Tori Amos' Boys for Pélé.

3. Weekly writing goals. In just the past three weeks I've switched from daily word count goals to a weekly one. It's tough to predict whether I'll be able to churn out 4,000 words before lunch, or struggle all day to type a measly 500, so instead of saying, "I'm going to write 2,000 words every day this week," I'm saying, "I'm going to write 10,000 words this week." It's an ambitious number for me, but I try to take weekends off from writing and editing (work-life-balance and all that) so if I'm still a thousand words short on Saturday morning, I can play a little catch up. I think the key has been not capping myself at 2K for any given day, as I used to, as once I'd hit that number, I was off the hook, mentally clocked out for the rest of the day. Now I think, "I hit 2,000 easily. Better push for 3,000 in case tomorrow brings a word drought." It's working great so far, and I recommend it to other writers with fluctuating daily counts. A good month for me used to 30,000 words, and now I'm looking poised to bank about 45K.

4. Dog the Bounty Hunter's autobiography. Well, his second autobiography, anyhow. I'm just about done with Where Mercy is Shown, Mercy is Given. I grabbed it randomly from the library and checked it out without shame. It's not a literary masterpiece, but it's endlessly entertaining and surprisingly heartfelt.

5. No sugar = I lost three pounds. Actually, I couldn't tell you if it's absence of sugar or my getting back into yoga and calisthenics in the past couple weeks, but I've lost weight. It's likely both, of course. But ditching the sugar has definitely reduced the random carb cravings. As with meat last month, I'm really not missing it—the odd wistful twinge as the manfriend enjoys a block of chocolate or an ice cream sandwich, but nothing I could classify as true temptation.

6. Klondike. I've absolutely re-addicted myself to Klondike. Found the nifty free Real Solitaire app for my iPad and both the manfriend and I can't quit. Every morning over coffee, over lunch, over beers while dinner's cooking, before bed… In fact, new Angry Birds Rio levels came out yesterday and we haven't even opened them yet—the deck's got us by the throats.

6. Crank 2. We watched this movie randomly because for whatever reason, Revolver (another Jason Statham movie) decided not to play on Instant Watcher. I can't remember the last time the manfriend was so delighted by a movie. We'd never seen the original Crank, but that didn't matter. This action movie was spastic, incessant, ridiculous, nearly seizure-inducing…but really fun. Plus it's got Statham in a fitted hoodie, running really fast, all throughout the movie. And you know what a fast-running, desperate man does to me. He also electrocutes himself with jumper cables every ten minutes or so, which I found oddly stirring.

Hope everyone's enjoying their Junes so far!

My Thirty-Third May

I feel as if I've barely blogged this month. I feel just slightly as if I've barely been conscious this month, actually, especially during that week and a half of non-stop rain and gloom. At the same time, I can't believe how much I've gotten done. I turned thirty-two on the second, and so far the thirty-third May of my life has been…all over the place.

As the month started, I'd just thrown in the towel on a third failed Blaze proposal, eyeballs-deep in a weird mix of frustrated / discouraged and liberated / hopeful. Two weeks after hearing I needed to put that last proposal out of its misery, I'd started and finished the next proposal (synopsis and first three chapters) and sent it off to my intrepid editor. I got a call about it just this past Friday while I was waiting in the train station—I'd gone into Boston for a physical and to get my possibly stress-fractured shin x-rayed. My editor wanted to see some deeper emotional insight in both the hero and heroine's initial opening POV scenes, and a stronger first couple paragraphs. Um, period.

Period?

Period! No changes requested on the spartan synopsis. No issues with either characters' conflicts or motivations. Nothing wrong with the hook, the setting, the premise. For reals?

Apparently, for reals. When I had what I'd cautiously hoped was a light bulb moment, chatting with senior Blaze editor Brenda Chin at the New England RWA conference, I prayed things might go this way. The last three proposals have missed the mark flagrantly and unsalvageably, though I thrashed and struggled as much as anyone could, trying to force them to work. Then at conference I finally gave myself permission to quit overthinking and overworking, overguessing the details of the overwrought plot, when I'm simply not an up-front plotter. I got the green light to explore a workable hook, and did just that, 100% chart-, graph-, and fourteen-page synopsis-free. It may not have scored a resounding, revisionless acceptance, but the writing process felt infinitely more organic and intuitive that the last few efforts, and I'm not surprised it garnered far fewer editorial misgivings.

This morning I finished (I hope) addressing my editor's concerns with the opening chapters, and sent the revised proposal back out into the ether. And she's encouraged me to keep working on the subsequent chapters, which can't be a bad sign. So keep those fingers crossed, if they haven't grown arthritic and mangled with your unwavering empathy. Maybe I'll have extra-good news to share soon. Maybe I'll even manage to make my second Blaze sale within a year of the first… For those with Doomsday clocks at the ready, set them to July 12.

May was also the month of no meat. This experiment, of all the Discipline Year self-imposed challenges I've yet tackled, was far and away the easiest and the most fun. The only temptations came during family barbecues, and I resisted with little angst. Otherwise I had a blast rediscovering an interest in cooking. I always enjoy cooking, but in the past year or two I'd gotten to a point where I simply recycled the same half-dozen dinner standards over and over. Meat-Free May was a great excuse to try out new dishes. In fact tonight I'm making that African stew again, so my repertoire of regulars has expanded! And of course, my life will no longer be complete without tempeh making the occasional appearance.

I didn't lose or gain any weight, so no revelations on that front.

My husband suspects that, in part, my unnaturally long blue spell (nearly two weeks' funk) in the latter half of the month could be linked to the decreased protein intake. I'll buy it. It was also rainy and I had PMS and was dealing with stupid social media melodrama angst and was uncertain about my proposal, but I rarely stay bummed that long without something else going on, so perhaps he's on to something.

Still, I'm in no rush to bring the meat back. I'll be excited to order seafood at my favorite restaurants once more, and it'll be nice to toss chicken in with the stir-fry, but I haven't missed meat all that much. Doesn't hurt that I have a broad-palated partner with West Coast ideals, either. The entire household went veggie this month, at least at home. Thanks, manfriend!

Next month was supposed to be No Java June, when I go coffee-free (if not caffeine free—tea was to still be kosher) but I think I'll switch it up. All things going well, I may be on deadline, and that is not the time to volunteer for chemical withdrawal. So I'm likely going to swap June and July and go sugar-free for the next month. Anyhow, more on that tomorrow.

Despite the possible stress fracture, which is keeping me from running, May has been a great month for exercise. Lovely spring temperatures for my daily walks, plus we've been cycling a couple times, hiking even more, and at long last I got my shit together and rearranged my room, making it yoga-friendly again. Unless you're talking to someone who's practiced and enjoyed yoga themselves, it's hard to say how powerful and awesome it is without sounding like a self-satisfied hippie-dippy douchebag. So I won't ramble, but since I got back to hardcore stretching before bedtime in the last week or so, I've slept better, felt better, blah blah blah. Go yoga.

Back to work! Hoping to finish my evil conjoined erotica-writing twin's edits quickly, so I'll have time to indulge in a beer and last night's Bachelorette episode before chores call me to wifely duty. Enjoy the final day of May! Or if you're already in June when you read this, don't tell me what happens. I hate spoilers.

Spring Revamp

I've been quiet for the past few days—did you worry I got Raptured? If so, you clearly don't know me very well. The manfriend and I were away in Vermont over the weekend visiting friends, then on Monday I was all over the place for a freelance meeting then an appearance as a special guest at my husband's colleagues' book club (they read Caught on Camera of all things, quite the literary fiction palate cleanser). And yesterday I was busy doing something that was looong overdue—a spring revamp.

The main project was rearranging my office so I'd have the space to comfortably practice yoga again. Which I need desperately—I've been a bit of a basketcase lately. Making it happen meant giving the boot to my "editing nook", ditching a side table and moving my beloved papasan chair to the living room. I also went to Target and bought a new shelving unit (among many other things). It took pretty much the entire day (I did some kitchen improvements and a ton of cleaning as well) but now I've got a faboo new space beneath the skylight for my stretching and calisthenics:

It also felt good just to do the whole spring cleaning / space freshening / reinvention thing. I don't know if it's the redecorating or the blessed absence of rain for the first time in a week, but I'm finally perking up. Oh and if anyone's curious where I write, I do 95% of it in the space just to the right of my new micro yoga studio (in fact I'm sitting on the "black pearl" as I type this):

Anyone else have any big spring projects going on?

A Year of Lents

When I was a kid, I was always secretly jealous of my Catholic friends who, in my mental wording, "got to do" Lent each spring. It seemed so romantic to me, this notion of doing without for a month. So noble and selfless. My consciousness of Lent started in the late eighties as well, which meant I was also being bombarded with media mentions of "dieting". How grown up the women on TV were, always suffering for their diets! Suffering and going without seemed so sophisticated. Clearly Catholicism is genetic, as I was raised agnostic yet inherited all the guilt and self-loathing enjoyed by my foremothers.

Already, I'm going off topic. The point is, I've decided to do an entire year of Lent-like experiments. Every month in 2011, I'm going to either go without a vice or luxury, or else commit to doing a certain positive thing each day. No moral I'm trying to prove, here—there's no point to this exercise aside from challenging myself and giving myself a healthy shove toward the edge of my comfort zone. I've come to realize in past few years just how adaptable humans are, and I want to explore that a bit more, and hopefully surprise myself with my own flexibility and will.

Here's the schedule for what I'm calling my Discipline Year (you may take that in either the punitive or reverent sense, as I expect it'll be both):

1 GYMUARY For January, each and every day I will go to the gym—a twelve-minute walk from my house. Probably not the best month to pick this one since the weather in New England can be Russian roulette, but I've been slacking badly the last few weeks, so the sooner the better. And don't worry, I won't go nuts. I'll switch between cardio and yoga and group classes and swimming so I don't injure myself.

2 FACE-OFF FEBRUARY In February, I will forgo wearing make-up the entire month. There is a reason, aside from consonance, that I picked this shortest month to not wear make-up. I like the stuff and I've been wearing it since I was about fourteen or fifteen. But I'd like to see just how differently I'll feel about myself if I go without it for a few weeks.

3 MEAGER MARCH No frivolous purchases for the month of March. That means clothes, silly stuff from CVS, coffees or drinks while I'm out and about, iTunes or book downloads…spending on necessities and groceries only. (Alcohol counts as a grocery item, however, as the hideousness that is temperance is coming later in the year.) I'm not too worried about this one.

4 NO #&$%@! APRIL For April, I'm putting the cabash on my potty-mouth, from "damn" and "hell" on up the line of profanity. This will go for out loud swearing as well as tweets and blog posts, though my characters are still allowed to cuss their everloving heads off in my manuscripts, as always. I honestly have no clue how hard this will be, and since my swearing is more habitual than willful, I will have to come up with a penance system for when I inevitably slip up…a dollar to charity or something like that.

5 MEAT-FREE MAY I'll be going vegetarian for the month of May. For now this means no meat, including poultry and seafood. I'm open to tossing eggs and dairy into the mix and upgrading to vegan… I'd miss having cream in my coffee each morning, but if I'm feeling brave at the end of April, I'll up the ante.

6 NO JAVA JUNE That's right, no coffee. I'm dreading this one. I'm allowing caffeine, but substituting rooibus and green tea and maté will not make my grief any more bearable. Coffee is as much a comforting ritual to me as it is a chemical fix.

7 JUJUBE-FREE JULY That is to say, no candy. No extraneous sugar. If a food such as wine or fruit contains natural sugar, that's fine, but no candy, sweet drinks, pastries, or packaged food with sugar as one of its top five listed ingredients.

8 UP AND AT 'EM AUGUST For August I will set my alarm and rise promptly at five a.m. each morning. Normally I get up around six thirty, but I want to see exactly what I might get accomplished in those bonus ninety minutes before the rest of the world wakes up and demands my attention. Perhaps it will just be a lot of yawning, but perhaps it will be an entire extra novella.

9 SWITCH OFF SEPTEMBER In September, I will go without TV. Considering I don't own one, this should be easy, right? Hell no. Thanks to Hulu and Instant Watcher, I've got a mean TV habit going on, and I'll need to figure out other ways to enjoy my lunch hour or unwind at five aside from tuning in to my beloved crappo reality shows. Movies will be acceptable.

10 OMMM-CTOBER For October, I will commit to practicing yoga either at home or in a class for at least forty-five minutes each day. It's something I used to do before writing became my sacred daily practice, and I'm looking forward to reconnecting with it.

11 NOVEMBOOZE That's right, no alcohol for the month of November. I'm dreading this almost as much as the coffee month. And I did pick a holiday month on purpose, just to make it tougher. If I wind up with a contract or a release date in November, I'll just have to get creative with my celebrating. Perhaps a cupcake or a new necklace in place of the usual champagne.

12 DONATE DECEMBER Each day in December I will go through my clothes and other possessions and pick one nice thing to add to a Salvation Army-type donation box. December's usually stressful, and this is an easy one for me. Getting rid of older stuff feels good, and it makes room for new and exciting things to come into one's life. Seems like a good choice for the end of the year and the holiday season.

So that's the deal! This blog will be like my 12-step meetings, so expect lots of whiny posts as I struggle through my various withdrawals and am tempted by seductive relapses. The first week of June should be especially entertaining as you watch me break up with my precious codependent lover, coffee. Oh how I will plead to get him back! And as early as next week you'll probably see posts about how very little I feel like sloshing through the icy slush to go to the gym. Stay tuned and watch me crumble. Or if you're similarly masochistic, join me for a month! If you do, let me know. I'd happily welcome any guest posters who wish to share their own self-denial experiments.