I Had a Book Launch Party

If my husband had asked me if I wanted a book launch party I would have looked at him like he was crazy. I don't like a lot of fuss. I definitely wanted a wedding, but one of the things I most worried about was being the center of attention. I'll admit, I loved every second when it happened, but I'm just not entirely comfortable it. I have a tendency to downplay myself in general. A party is the exact opposite of that, so I definitely would have said no.

I've also been very quiet about writing a book, so it's a pretty logical conclusion that I would not want to throw a party about it. My husband knows this. He did not ask, so when I walked into my own book launch party I had no idea was happening I was stunned.

Official Book Launch Day!

I've been so busy with the chaos of moving twice within the last six weeks, that launch day really snuck up on me and I haven't had too much time to think about it. Or even write a post! So this is it. The paperback has been available for the last month. The e-book was only available for pre-order, but now you can purchase and receive the e-book right away, along with the paperback.

Believe it or not I STILL have yet to see the actual paperback. I waited to pull the trigger on my order until after I moved, so a big box of books should be showing up on my doorstep tomorrow, after the official book launch. Which is kind of weird, but that's okay. It doesn't matter how many people see the paperback before I do. It takes nothing away from the excitement I feel about finally holding a physical copy in my hands.

The Big Book Cover Reveal

I get so happy when you comment that you can't wait to read my book. First of all, I'm still kind of amazed that I wrote a book that people will be able to read. But also, I think it is just so sweet that you've said it without knowing a single thing about the title or the story. I've been pretty tight lipped about it. Up to this point, it's pretty much just been me and my manuscript. My mom read it in it's infancy when it was super rough. Then, beta readers, my publisher and editor, but that's it. I wrote this thing alone and I didn't tell anyone I was doing it. In my first mention of it here on my blog I'd already been working on it for nine months. My online peeps have been hearing about it for years, but to this day, very few people in my life even know I wrote a book. It's so cute, but my husband has mentioned my book to more people than I have. Nobody at work knows. Writing this novel has been my baby, my passion, and also my secret for so long. The time has finally come to share, and I'm terrified. That was always the goal, even when I wasn't sure I could even write a book but I didn't realize how scary it would be.

Line Edits Are Done

I was definitely a little bit nervous about line edits. I worried about what I might be asked to change, and if I was capable of making requested changes satisfactorily. Or what if the whole thing was so bad that the editor tells my publisher he should pull the plug?

Yes. My mind went there.

There are three types of editing as I understand it. Developmental editing, line editing, and copy editing. Developmental editing is a process by which an editor helps a writer along by providing feedback and possible solutions regarding big picture concepts like plot holes, character development, and structure issues. Grammar isn't really a thing at this stage, and the point is to get the story and characters in good shape. Line edits, as the name suggests, is when an editor goes line by line with an eye for dialogue, tense, tone, inconsistencies, style, flow, and word choice. Copy editing is a detailed look at spelling, grammar, and punctuation. This would be the last type of editing before publication. I was super lucky to have a very competent and knowledgeable editor who really took care of line and copy together. I edited the hell out of my manuscript on my own for years. I read and re-read it, ripped it apart, put it back together, and rearranged it, some more. By the time I went looking for a publisher it was pretty clean, but it still needed extensive editing.

I'm Publishing My Book

My original manuscript

I wrote a very detailed post about five different ways to get a book published, but never got around to telling you how I'm planning to get my book published.

I learned I'd need a query letter and that I'd need to research agencies to query. This query letter would be sent to literary agents requesting representation for my manuscript. They either want just the query letter or the query letter plus the first one to three chapters, or the query letter plus the first ten pages. Some may also want a synopsis so I had to be prepared for that also. Each query letter has to be tailored according to specific agency submission guidelines, and the idea is that you keep sending queries until someone requests the full manuscript. It's also important not to burn through all submission options in one go. Test the waters and await possible feedback, or lack thereof.  Depending on that, I would need to consider tweaking the query letter or halting submissions altogether to revise my manuscript. It can take a really long time to hear back from an agent at each step, and some of them have rules about whether or not they allow submission of the full manuscript to any other agents while they are reviewing it. So you can imagine how long this could take, and how delicate the process. If I got an agent, there could be more revisions. Then, said agent would try to sell my book to a publisher. If it sold there could be additional revisions after that. If I was lucky.

Novel Update & Why It Took So Long to Finish

My last novel update post was in 2016 when I was taking my first ever writing class, and learning a lot of information that inspired me to make a whole lot of changes to my manuscript.

So what's been going on with my manuscript since then? First, here's a little recap on my novel writing journey.

Five Ways to Get a Book Published

Writing a novel was the goal, in and of itself, so it wasn't a priority for me to know anything about the publishing industry before I started.  I wrote my fiction novel in a vacuum, but three years, and many revisions later it occurred to me to take a look to see what my options might be should I ever try to publish.  So much information! It was pretty overwhelming, but I found out what I needed to know.

Traditional publishing is pretty clear cut.  The path is as old as time, well established, and there isn't much variation on what it takes to get in or how it works.  Once you dig deeper into other publishing options is when it gets a little bit confusing.  Words like small press, indie publishing, hybrid publishing, partnership publishing, self publishing, pay to publish, and vanity publishing get thrown around and they often mean different things depending on who's talking about it.

Collector of Memories

I'm so excited! And I just can't hide it!  I got a new blog design and I think I like it.  I remember when blogs had multi colored unicorn dust popping off every page, but now the trend seems to be black and white minimalist.  There seems to be a pervasive fear of color now, but I like it.  All the better to showcase words and photos, because let's face it.  That's the main reason I'm still here. The bonus is the connections I've made with other bloggers over the years.

How to Kill a Blog

How to kill a blog.  Just in case you were wondering, since most blogging tip posts cover how to grow your blog.  I'm doing something a little different.

Well, one thing is for certain.  I really know how to kill a blog, besides all the other things I've already been doing for years.  I did one other thing that might not be the best idea.  When you have been blogging under the same url for seven years, changing it is most certainly the kiss of death.  Why would anyone switch from one blog spot to another blog spot anyway?  Switching from a blog spot to a dot com, well that totally makes sense in the blog world these days.  If you haven't already come out like gangbusters with your own domain to start at some point, once you get your blogging legs you switch to the dot com.  You hire someone to help you make the switch, and there is a re-direct and all of these things that are supposed to help minimize your drop in traffic.  Or so I've heard.

I went from blog spot to blog spot because having a blog name that didn't match my url has bugged me.  Always.  When I first started blogging, I picked becauseeverybodyhasastory because it was available, and it seemed to fit what I was doing at the time.  Just telling my story, which I still am.  Then I changed my blog name four times.  Ready for this?  Frugalista Getting Married, became Frugalista Married; so embarrassing!, became Pink Sunshine, became Mahogany Drive.  I actually thought Pink Sunshine was the one, but I hesitated to switch the url because well...what if it wasn't?  Also, I didn't want the hassle and I worried that I would lose any hard earned follower I ever had.  Well, Mahogany Drive is 100% most certainly the final final name forever and ever.  I know this for sure, and it was tolerable at first that the url didn't match until it wasn't.  Until I couldn't stop thinking about how it was way, way too long, and how if I ever decided to tell anyone I know what my blog name actually is I wanted it to be just one thing, so one day I changed it to Mahogany-Drive.blogspot.com.  Then I thought, oh maybe I should have let people know before the old url and every trace of my blog disappears.  Sometimes I forget that there are people out there who may actually like my blog and might wonder if it was gone or they never got any new updates after a while.  I was able to reclaim the old url to add an updated url post and that was really all I could do. 

As a blog spot blogger it's easy enough to change your blog name a million times if you want to.  All your links remain intact.  Nobody has to update their feed readers.  Google recognizes the switch pretty quickly, and because the url hasn't changed there is no total break in traffic.  Switching your url however, is another story, and even as I was thinking that I might regret it, I knew I had to do it anyway, because it was bugging me and I couldn't leave well enough alone.  I'm pretty sure that half the traffic I was getting was spam bots anyway, so in that respect having a new url is like a clean slate.  It's also a clean slate for people reading your blog which is good and not so good at the same time.  I figure, if they like my blog, they'll update their readers, if they don't then who needs 'em anyway right?  In this internet world where numbers are everything I was getting a numbers boost from followers who don't read, but again, who needs 'em anyway?  I am not a blogger for money, so traffic is and should be a secondary concern, but damn it sucks that when I google my own blog name it doesn't show up on the first page like it used to.  Bummer.  I can say I blog for me all I want (and I do), but I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't want somebody to read it.  

So, why don't I want my own domain?  This may sound really weird, but I have this vision of something happening to me.  Anything bad, where I'm not well or where I am too preoccupied with something bad to think about the expiration of my domain.  I miss the deadline to renew and my entire blog disappears.  Or, when I die, maybe a little morbid, but c'mon we all know it's going to happen, and don't pay that bill my entire blog disappears.  Honestly, I don't even know if that's how it works, but with a blog spot I don't have to worry about that.  I do nothing year after year and this blog is here.  I don't have to be fully responsible for hosting issues.  Every year people who don't profit from their blog or don't blog as much as they used to have to think to themselves...do I really want to pay for another year of my domain?  I don't want to have that thought every year.  I blog a little or a lot, pay nothing, and my blog is here.  I don't have to do anything, and I don't have to rationalize the expense or wonder if it is really "worth" it.  I remember when bloggers first started saying that having your own domain makes you look more professional.  I was that blogger thinking...for what?  Why do I need to look professional?  Why do I need business cards, a newsletter, and a media kit?  Well, now I know.  Blogging has turned into a money making empire for some.  Having your own domain supposedly helps increase traffic and SEO and all of those other things that I have mostly ignored.

So I asked myself.  What would make me happy despite all of the inconvenience and hassle that goes along with it?  The answer was switching my url, and so I did.  Anything I ever linked on twitter, or Pinterest is dead.  Any links I have ever put within my blog posts is dead.  I updated a few links on Pinterest, and in some series posts and recent posts, but I have published 726 posts so I'm not gonna get 'em all.  Bloglovin' was easy enough to switch without disruption, but anyone who ever got updates in blog reader or any other readers I don't  know about will not.

As far as google is concerned this blog doesn't even exist anymore, but you know what?  My blog is not dead to me.  Hello out there, I'm still here! I'm only a blog spot blogger.  I don't make money, I don't get free stuff, and I don't have a gazillion followers.  I also don't have to pretend  Scotch-Brite's new disposable toilet scrubber has totally changed my life.  I do show up here to write things because I love to write things so I'll just keep doing that.

Hello out there, I'm still here.

 
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Writing Class

When MJ told me he was going to work out of the country for a year I was very upset.  Time is precious and a year is a long time.  We've done it before, so I knew we could do it again if we had to, but I didn't want to.  My next thought was how am I going to fill my time?  What am I going to do to pass the time on my own for an entire year without him?

I'm kind of obsessed with my husband.  I do things separately from him, not only because I know it's not healthy to be joined at the hip, but also because I do want to.  If he's gonna be at home, I want to be home.  If he's not at home, I'm glad he's out doing fun things and enjoying life, but I miss him.  If I go to bed, I want him to go to bed too, and if I'm up I want him to be up too.  Creepy?  Maybe, but I can't help it. He's not like me.  He likes to be with me, but not the way I need to be with him, and that's fine.  This works because I don't take it personally if he doesn't miss me during the two hours I'm out running errands, and I give him his space. Sometimes he does have to tell me to back up off him, especially right after he shaves, and he's just so cute.  Heart eye emoji.  I have to remind myself that I'm not his blanket, I'm his wife! I'm not here to smother him, and I think we have a pretty nice balance of togetherness and space.

He is a welcome distraction.  My favorite distraction, but a distraction nonetheless through no fault of his own, so when I found out he was leaving I did something I've always wanted to do.  I enrolled in a writing class at a community college.  Monday nights from 7:00-9:55pm from mid January through May is a big time commitment.  I did two semesters of two classes per semester a few years ago, and it kicked my butt.  I don't know how full time workers/students do it, but I hoped this would be different because it's only one class and it's something I'm truly passionate about.  I was right.  I love it.  My teacher Tammy is a real live author. She has eleven published books, an agent, an editor and everything.  I value her insight so much, because she's successfully done it herself.  The assigned texts are two really helpful books on writing and a short fiction novel that I would be interested in reading anyway.   I'm learning a lot from her lectures, and we do group work shopping afterwards.  Not my favorite part, because it is hard for me to share my writing, but it's good for me, and I know I need to do it.  Monday's are so long, Tuesday morning comes way too fast, but being passionate about the class makes it worthwhile.

Some of you know I'm writing a novel.  Well, I guess you could say I wrote it.  It was done, until I fell down the rabbit hole of editing, which never seemed to end.  When that was done, I walked away from it unsure of what my next step would be, if anything.  Then I decided to to sign up for a writing class, and editing mode has transitioned back to writing mode.  I'm learning all of these fun things about premise, inciting incident, and plot structure.  All of these elements are key factors in novel writing and things that readers want to see.  Some I had, others I didn't, and still others were there, but not fully formed.  Taking a hard look at my novel through the  technical lens of what a story is supposed to have has been really eye opening.  It's inspired me to make a lot of changes, and I've even come up with a title.  I'd been using a working title I didn't like, but I finally have one that feels right.  The changes I've made led to a lot of edits, which led to having new material to write.  I am grateful not to be at ground zero, but I had a really hard time motivating myself to create new words.  My novel is done! Why am I still messing with this thing?   

Perhaps it would have been a good idea to take the writing class before I got the bright idea to write a novel, but sometimes the timing on things don't make all the sense in the world. I wanted to write a novel, so I wrote one.  If I had waited until I'd taken a proper writing class, who knows if or when it would have ever gotten written.  The flip side of that is, I've probably done a lot of extra work, and spent a lot more time on it because I went into it blindly.  I just started writing.  I didn't even have an outline, and here I am five years later still hammering away at it.  The thing is though, that I don't really care.  Sure, I would like closure on this novel, but maybe it's just meant to be a fun hobby.  I love writing for the sake of writing and I'm not doing it just to get published.  I mean, it would be nice, and it has been really hard at times, but I can honestly say I have enjoyed the entire process so far.  All the hours spent searching for words that won't come, finding the story, cutting and pasting, adding, and moving things around has been so much fun.   I think that's how I win no matter what happens in the end.  I love what I'm doing, and sometimes that's enough.

My husband did not leave, although there is still a possibility that he will.  I'm so annoyed at how they played with my emotions, but something good did come out of it.  He's still here and I'm in writing class. I'd like to think I would have done it anyway, at some point, but it was the push I needed to quit beating around the bush.

Why I didn't Do NaNoWriMo and State of the Novel Address

I don’t know how long NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) has been around, but I first heard about it in 2013.  I kept seeing that word pop up on blogs but had no idea what it was.  I was absolutely delighted to find out that it was a yearly occasion during the month of November in which writers all over the world focused on one goal.  Write a novel in one month.  Don't worry too much about form or style.  Just sit down in front of the computer screen and get the words out.

By that time, I was almost two years into committing myself to seriously working on an abandoned novel manuscript from 2009.  I was tired of thinking about writing a novel and decided it was time to do it so by the time NaNoWriMo 2013 rolled around I was in 80,000 words with hopes that by the same time next year I’d be done.  Maybe I’d try my hand at NaNoWriMo then.

Novel excerpt because I said I would a long time ago and never did

My state of the novel address is a bit late this year.  This one is from November 2013 and here is another from November 2014. 

My novel was officially done in June 2014, but any writer knows that is also just the beginning.  Within days of putting it aside I found myself bursting with new ideas and changes.  I let my mom read it a month later and took a break.  It took her a little while to finish it up, but she returned it with tons of notes on grammar and wording.  I did all of those basic edits and then was thrown back into editing mode.  Every sentence, every word, every comma was questioned.  I added, rearranged and jotted notes in my iPhone whenever a new thought occurred to me, which was all the time.  It was a good thing, but kind of awful at the same time because it was all consuming and I didn't know when it would ever end.  My manuscript grew longer and longer with each round of edits and I still didn't know how I felt about any of it.  Some days I thought it was good.  Other days I wanted to throw it in the garbage.  NaNoWriMo 2014 came and went while I was caught up in a never ending cycle that I have come to know as editing and revision hell on earth. 

After the first two major rounds of editing I could tell my manuscript was getting far too long for no good reason and so began a cutting spree.  It is super hard to cut words after working so hard for each and every one, but lots of words don't necessarily make a manuscript better.  It had to be done.  Words and chapters that would serve no other purpose than to bore a reader were chopped and I whittled it down to where it sits now at 104,500 words.  I needed a real break so I put it aside and haven't looked at it in four months.  I did some some research on finding an editor, finding an agent, and self publishing.  You know, just to see, but that's it.

With the novel finished 2015 might have been a prime year to do NaNoWriMo, but I couldn't do it.  I've had a few ideas cross my mind, but nothing I was ready to jump into yet.  I can't start something new until I figure out what to do with the old one.  This novel was my baby.  My first.  My labor of love.  I put so much of myself into it and I'm having a hard time moving on.  I haven't published it and I haven't decided not to.  I think it's as good as it's going to get without additional feedback and editing.  It is definitely time for someone who isn't my mother to read it, but I can't bring myself to let anyone else lay eyes on it.  If I have any intention on going any further with it I'll have to get over it, but that is just the thing.  I don't know if I want to.  I mean, of course I do.  What person painstakingly pulls 100,000 words from the depths of their soul and doesn't think about publishing someday?  The question for me is not if I want to, but if I can.   It's hard to admit to yourself about something you put so much work into, but I don't think my manuscript is good enough for traditional publishing.  There is a big difference between my manuscript and the glossy ones I see in bookstores.  The kind of books that are good enough to land an agent and a publishing deal.  I'm not saying it never could be, but it's not there yet and I'm not sure if I am capable of getting it there.  Getting an agent is a long shot even if your manuscript is stellar, but anyone can self-publish anything they want these days so the question becomes if I should.

I won't publish something just so I can say I'm a published author.  That title means nothing to me if I don't think what I published is any good.  And I'm not saying it's not any good, I just don't know if it's good enough.  I don't know that it meets my criteria for being publish worthy and there is all kinds of self doubt about whether or not it ever could.  It took me two and a half years in my spare time to finish.  That is a long time, but I don't care if I worked on it for ten years.  I think it's far worse to put out something you are uncertain about than to not put it out there at all.

I'm proud of myself for finishing what I started.  That was always my one and only goal.  Finish.  I wanted to know if I could string together thousands of words and make a complete story that someone might find enjoyable or interesting.  I did that.  It may not ever be published, but I did what I set out to do.  I wrote it.  I polished it up.  I told a story near and dear to my heart.  I'm proud of what I did and it took a really long time but neither make it publishable.

Writing a novel is so much harder than anyone ever thinks it will be.  There is so much that goes into it and then there is even more that goes into making it better.  Some days it flowed and other days it was like pulling teeth.  It was hard, but I really enjoyed it.  I liked spending my Saturday mornings at the coffee shop searching for the words that had already formed pictures in my head.  Getting new ideas was a rush.  I loved the process of getting it all to come together into one cohesive piece with characters and colors and dialogue.  I love writing and so it was genuinely something I did because I have a passion for it. 

Maybe my manuscript is chalk full of potential or maybe it's as good as it gets.  Maybe NaNoWriMo 2016 is just the thing to get me motivated again or maybe that many words in so little time is too much pressure.  My monthly goal seems laughable now, but it was only ten pages per month and that was typically limited to weekends.  Maybe I'll look at my novel with fresh eyes and muster the courage to pursue it further or maybe I'll decide to keep it just for me and me alone.  Maybe some day I'll figure out the meaning of life.  Time will tell.  It always does.

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Writing A Novel Is Hard

Writing a novel is such a freaking roller coaster ride and I don't even like roller coasters all that much anymore.  One day I'm really proud of what I've created and then the next day I'm convinced it's the worst thing anyone has ever written. I have loved and loathed this painstakingly created collection of words a million times over during this entire process.

I let my mom be the first person to read it in paper form and make edits.  Then I read it for myself and made edits of my own.  I tried not to even think about it for about two months so that helped me look at it with fresh eyes.  It started out really good.  It was interesting and I liked what I was reading but then it fell flat.  There were different parts of the story that were just boring and other parts where I just didn't like my own writing.  I was probably really over it the day I wrote certain parts and I could tell.  After spending years and years on this it was really discouraging and I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do to fix it.  I had a few ideas, but nothing concrete.  Nothing I felt confident about making that difference I needed to make. 

I decided to deal with the basic edits first.  Getting through it was tedious but I had to get it done from the paper version  before I started making any major changes in Word.  A lot of it was grammar, some of it was wording, some of it was calling characters by the wrong name, but all of it was really time consuming.  It was page after page, correction after correction and it felt like it would never end.  It took me about three sessions to get it all done.  I did session two at my favorite coffee shop and I felt really old school carting that giant stack of paper around but in a really good way.  A really proud way.  Like, I wrote that.  Those are my words.  Every single last one of them.  It's technically a manuscript although I don't feel comfortable referring to it as such. 

After I finished that round of corrections it was time to get back to writing mode and start trying to make it better. That's when I got discouraged again because I still wasn't sure exactly where to start.  Part of me just wanted to be done with it.  I wasn't totally satisfied, but I did what I set out to do.  I wrote over 100,000 words.  I wrote a novel and it's done.  I was tired of thinking about this thing so maybe that was good enough.  That's what I tried to tell myself, except it wasn't good enough and I couldn't rest until I made it better.

Spurred along by forces outside myself that wouldn't allow me to give up; I sat there at my dining room table with my laptop open one Sunday morning.  I looked at the random notes I'd made in my phone while I did my paper reading.  I made some more notes in my dog eared spiral notebook.  I did a little bit lot of staring into space, and then I started typing.  Once I got started I couldn't stop.  I removed entire sections added new ones and moved existing things around.  If changed one part of the story I had to go through the entire thing and update any related parts.  One thing led to another and I was sent into constant editing mode of finishing and improving for a good two weeks.  I'd think about a sentence that should be changed or something else I needed to add on my way home from work and immediately open my lap top and do it when I got home.  If I thought of something else while I was in bed I'd add a note to my phone and add it in the next day.  My mind was constantly racing with thoughts and ideas about this fictional group of people that I've come to know and love.  It's exhausting and it doesn't seem to stop no matter how much I kind of wish it would until I feel that it's where it needs to be.  I've only had a few different updates pop into my head over the last week.  I'm really excited about the changes I made and I think it's pretty much where it needs to be for now, until I decide that I hate it again.  I mostly meant to trim things down but my word count unintentionally went up.  I'm sitting at 471 pages and 111,301 words of double spaced Courier New. 

The obvious question is, "Now what?" and the annoying answer is still, "I don't know."

That Day I Finished Writing My First Novel

I keep a lot of things to myself.  No one outside my immediate family knew I was writing a novel until after I'd already been working on it for two years.  It didn't feel real for a really long time, so it didn't seem worth mentioning and now that I'm done I still haven't really mentioned it.  I didn't post about it here, until I'd been seriously working on it for nine months.  On June 11th, 2014 at approximately 12:15pm; three years, 450 pages of double spaced Times New Roman, and 106,585 words later I finished my novel.  Just the week before I had to quit working on it because I hated it so much.  I was so close to the end, and I just wanted to be done with it already so I forced myself to keep opening that word document. I went at it again that day, and two hours later there was nothing left to type. 

Me and my manuscript

My first thought was Oh my gosh.  I think I just finished my novel.  I sat there staring at my screen for a few minutes while my eyes welled with tears.  I sat with it for a while on my own.  It felt like the best way to really take it in and enjoy the incredible wave of happiness washing over me.  I thought about texting my mom, or MJ but I decided I'd rather say it in person because it's not something you get the opportunity to say very often. Then I tweeted it because what else do you do in this day and age?  I was bursting.  I had to tell someone and it was my way of shouting it out to the world, but at the same time still keeping it a wonderful secret to enjoy and savor for myself.  I got some really sweet replies from some of you that made me even more excited.

I didn't look at it for a few days after I finished, but then tons of ideas started rolling in and the editing process began.  It was non stop.  I was jotting down notes in my phone and imagining different scenarios in my head constantly. Every time I looked at it, I frantically added or changed something.   The revising part was way easier then writing the thing in the first place.  I was actually really enjoying it and having a lot more fun with it than I had in a while.  That went on for a month until it got really exhausting and I needed it to stop.  I was so enmeshed in the process that after a while I couldn't see what I was reading anymore.  I felt like I was changing things just to be changing them, so I knew it was time to take a break.  I added 3,219 words and 14 pages by then, when I have a feeling I probably needed to trim it down.

My parents were coming down that Saturday and I decided right then and there that I would going to FedEx Kinko's to print it out and let my mom read it.  I always knew that if I let anyone read it at all, it would be her.  I had come to a nice resting point with the editing and I couldn't look at it anymore so it seemed like the right time to take a break.  I could get some feedback, regroup and then go over it again for more edits with a fresh eye.

It takes a while to print out that many pages so we were there for a bit, and it was really special having my mom there.  At one point the lady doing the print job said, "So who's the author?" I got to raise my hand and say, "Me.  I wrote it,"  and that felt really good.  Thank goodness I told her double sided because when finished it was pretty thick. Total cost: $25 bucks.  I planned to put it into a binder, but it would have been a whole lot of pages to three hole punch and I didn't even have a binder that thick so it went into a box.  That stack of paper is a physical representation of  so much time and effort.  I wrote all of that?  It's really hard to believe that I finally have something to show for all those years I've been tapping away at my computer.   I can officially say I have a manuscript now and it feels really strange because I never imagined myself to be a person that would ever get to say that.  

My shadow on the beaches of Playa Del Carmen, MX

Five years ago I didn't know how to start writing a novel and then, once I started, I didn't know if I could finish.  For 2 1/2 years I essentially gave up.  Life got busy and I told myself that I must be crazy to think I can actually write a novel anyway.  I put it aside, but that desire to write kept on coming back.  The yearning to finish what I started would not go away, so I dusted it off and committed myself to 15 pages a month for however long it took; which turned out to be three years.  I didn't put too much pressure on myself which was helpful.  When I reached the minimum acceptable novel length word count, I focused on finishing the story and finishing it this year.  When it was finally done, I didn't know if I'd ever print it out, then I didn't know if I'd let anyone read it, and now I don't know if I'll ever publish.  I've been winging it every step of  the way. Going from the desire to write a novel to the act of spending three years actively trying to do it has been all about me loving to write and wanting to do it for myself.  With all honesty, I can truly say that finishing it was my ultimate goal and if I never do a thing with it I'll be okay. 

It's fiction.  It might not be any good, but the story I've poured my heart and and soul into for three years is done and that alone makes me really happy because wishing I could write a novel got really old.  I wanted to do it.  There are many things in life I haven't got a shot in hell at accomplishing, but deep down I knew that writing a novel was not one of those things.  I wasn't convinced I could do it but I had to try because there are some things in life that you know you have to do even if you don't believe that you can.  I wanted to accomplish at least one goal in my lifetime that I could be really be proud of.  This is that thing, and I'm glad to finally be able to say I did it.  

It's All About the Writing

My weekend was so boring.  Definitely boring in a good way but also nothing to write home about since I'm sure you don't want to hear about how I didn't leave the house once, ate chicken, watched movies, did laundry, got rid of some junk, finally exercised and sat at my dining room table in my pajamas writing.  The only person I "saw" was MJ and that was over FaceTime.  This can't be a weekend post because I basically just summed it up in 3 sentences and there are no pictures so I'm going to talk about something else now.  

How often do you go back and read your old blog posts?  I don't do it all the time but now and then I randomly skip around from post to post reading things I wrote two months or two years ago.  It's really fun to take a walk down memory lane.   It's super annoying if I find a typo after so much time has passed.  I guess reading it a million times isn't always enough.  My earlier blog posts are very long winded, overly wordy and way too uptight.  I changed my writing style when I realized that other people were actually reading it.   I had to work on loosening up to make it more conversational and not worrying so much about using proper English so that my personality would come through and it wouldn't read like a boring college essay.

When I write posts I have a tendency to obsess.  I cut and paste entire sections from one place to another, add words, delete words.  I read it over and over  looking for typos and making sure that everything is just the way I want it.  Some posts flow easier, but with others I have a harder time translating my thoughts and feelings into words.  The editing process never ends.  After I read it for the millionth time I can't look at it anymore because if I do I'll probably find yet another thing I want to change and I'm just over it by then. 

By the time I hit publish I don't even know what I'm looking at any more so reading it later allows me to look at it with a fresh eye so it's like reading it for the first time.   I finally get get to "see" what I wrote in a way that I couldn't when I originally wrote obsessed over it.  I don't know how people blog every day! I really don't have that much to say but I also have this problem where I hesitate because I'm not sure if something is "blog worthy" then the more I look at it the worse it seems to get.  I'll throw some words down one day and then finish it the next with a fresh brain or I just abandon the post all together.  I have the same issue with writing my novel.  One day it's the worst thing ever written, but if I don't look at it for a few days I start to like it again.  I'm a perfectionist when it comes to writing even though it's never going to be perfect.  I over think everything and it's really annoying!  I'm still trying to be more okay with blogging just for the sake of blogging without worrying too much if it will be one of the best things I've ever written. 

The sharing and the interaction with readers is a big bonus but it's really is all about the writing for me.  And the preservation of memories.  It's the whole reason I blog in the first place so even if I look back and think oh my gosh why did I even write that, I'll still be okay with how I wrote it and love that it's there to look back on.  That being said, I really do need to learn how to let go a little bit.  Write what I want to say and move on just like I would if no one was reading.  It's just a blog.    

Have you changed your writing style from when you first started blogging to now?
How long does it take you to write a post?
How important is it to you to blog every day?

Writing a Novel

Writing a novel is really hard. It's not that I thought it would be easy. It's just that when you hear about every celebrity and their mother coming out with a book it makes it seem like something you just do but there is a lot more to it then that. I don't have a ghost writer and it's fiction. It's a total manifestation of my imagination. I have to make every single thing that occurs in this book come alive. Nothing happens unless I write it. Every word, every action, every character. Every detail. You labor over it. You get stumped and sometimes you can't even bear to look at what you've written anymore. Sometimes you have to take a break and then look at it again with a fresh brain. I knew it would take me a long time to do this. Technically, two years and counting so far. I can only wonder if next year will be the year it's done.

I started writing in September of 2009 and got up to 6,800 words and 27 pages before quitting. I got serious about it again and in January 2012 I had 10,131 words, 42 pages and a goal of writing 15 pages a month for the entire year. I did that and by the end of that year I had 45,104 words, 188 pages. 

2013 year progress:

Jan:   52,267, page 218
Feb:  54,224, page 226
Mar:  58,540, page 245
Apr:   62,697, page 262
May:  65,790, page 276
Jun:   68,928, page 289
Jul:    76,750, page 322
Aug:  79,539, page 334
Sept:  81,623, page 343
Oct: 0
Nov: 86,430, page 364

There are times when I read back and am thrilled with what I've done and other times where I feel like it has to be the worst thing ever written. Aside from Fifty Shades of Grey.  That book was so terrible that it actually made me believe that I could do it.  ut even when I worry that it's horrible I keep going even as I wonder what the point of the whole thing is.  ou put all of this time, energy and effort into this and for what?  It could be a piece of crap when all is said and done.  It might not be but that's the thing. You really never know, especially if you are like me and won't let anyone read it.

I started writing with a basic idea and no outline. I wrote and wrote and wrote just hoping that I could get to 60,000 words which is considered novel length. I got there and that felt like a huge accomplishment but I still had so far to go with my story. I got to a point where I couldn't write anymore because I had no idea where it was going so I had to take a break in October. I was already at 80,000 words so I felt okay about not focusing on word count anymore. It's actually getting kind of long and I need to start wrapping things up. I set time aside to just jot things down and think about what I wanted to happen.  I thought about my main character and what kind of story I wanted to tell. I ended up with a rough outline and then started writing again. It really helps to know the ending before I get there. Now I have some direction and I've been going back and editing certain things based on that. I think I might even have a title in mind now.

The only thing that saves me from quitting sometimes is that I know that no matter what, I just want to see this thing through. If my only goal were getting published and making money then I'd really feel like throwing in the towel on those days where I read it and feel like it's no good, but I don't care if no one ever reads it. I mean, I want it to be good of course but I really just want to finish it. I have no problem with spending hours and hour slaving over this thing even though I have no idea what will become of it because first and foremost I'm doing it for me. I just want to write and finish a novel. That is my only goal in mind at this point. When you are truly doing something for yourself you really can't lose. If anything did come of it that would just be a bonus.

The only thing harder then writing a novel is blogging daily. I failed miserably at that but I'm glad that I even sort of attempted it because now I know for certain what I already thought to be true. It's not for me! I just can't do it. I don't think it's necessary to be in your face every day, plus I just don't have that many ideas! I don't like publishing posts that I feel are kinda whatever slash crappy. I just don't feel good about doing that and that would happen a lot if I were trying to post every day. I'd rather do you a favor and spare you such drivel and myself a favor by not burning myself out on blogging. 

I've been a little shy about it but I've decided that I will publish an excerpt from my novel. I just have to decide which part.

Where I Write

Tell us about your writing space. Where do you write your blog posts? 

If I had to dream up the perfect writing space it would be a dedicated office at home.  It would be mostly white with a white desk and a vintage chair.  Wallpaper when done right can be really beautiful.  I'd have some kind of muted pastel wallpaper on one wall with an interesting pattern and a really pretty lamp on my desk. There would be an inspiration board above my desk where I could tack up inspirational quotes, photos and ideas. It would be the kind of room that immediately relaxes me when I walk in and inspires creativity everywhere I look. There would be a bookshelf full of books. All of my writing tools would be arranged in cute containers and my hot pink MacBook would look perfect sitting in the center of it all. I'd also have a pink bean bag. I have a thing for bean bag chairs.  They are comfy and I think it would cozy up the space. I can imagine myself sitting in one brainstorming the next great idea for my novel.

It would look something like this.

Image Source:  Maegan via Flickr

The reality is that my writing space is pretty much wherever I end up opening my lap top.  Sometimes it's standing at the kitchen counter. Sometimes it's on the couch upstairs or the couch downstairs.  Sometimes it's at the dining room table. If I'm blogging often times I am multi tasking and the TV is on too. If I'm working on my novel it's always at the dining room table, TV off and Pandora station for studying on. Or else it's at a coffee shop. When it comes to that, I can't focus otherwise.
It's never actually occurred to me to have a home office. There is an extra bedroom upstairs that I could presumably take over if I wanted to. It even has a cute little white desk I got from Ikea.  As is, it's not very inspiring so I've never even thought about writing in it or even decorating. It doubles as my husband's "junk" room so it's usually pretty messy and there isn't a lot of space left over with the fold out futon and TV. I have totally lost my decorating mojo anyways. When we first bought our house I went home decor crazy. Once I got the main living spaces to where I wanted I stopped. We have two guest bedrooms with absolutely zero decor and bathrooms still sporting white unpainted walls.  Then there is my husband claiming that it's not our forever home and that we'll be moving some day.

Maybe in our "mythical next house?" For now I'll stick to couches and coffee shops.  It may not be the most inspirational or ideal but it works.

I'm not the Popular Type

Okay.  This is a long one but I want you to read it so grab a coffee or wine if it's after 12 noon if you are so obliged.

In middle school there was a girl named Phaedra. She had brown curly hair with giant bangs teased sky high and shellacked with hairspray.  Our generation of 8th graders single handedly put a dent in the ozone with all of that aqua net.  Me included.  She had thick shiny braces on her teeth, brown hair, blue eyes, an outgoing personality and she was popular.  Everybody liked her.  In High School there were several queen bees that ruled the roost.  One of them was a fellow cheerleader and friend.  Let's call her Lena.  She was smart, pretty and sweet.  She had an upperclassmen boyfriend who was one of the cutest boys in school, she had a big house, everyone thought her dad was cute and she even had a car.  Everyone liked her too.  People just flocked to her and wanted to be her friend. 

I was never that popular kid.  I was always on the fringe.  I wouldn't exactly say I was a nerd.  Okay, I definitely was a nerd up until 10th grade but somewhere around that time things started to improve for me.  I was already on Varsity Gymnastics but I made the Cheer leading team.  I joined student government.  I ditched glasses for contacts and started to get a handle on what to do with my hair.  By my senior year I could call a lot of those "cool" kids my friends and  I even made prom court.  To this day I still can't believe that happened.  I didn't have that outgoing personality that draws people in.  I was quiet.  I wasn't the star anything.  I wasn't loud enough, confident enough, smart enough, different enough or pretty enough.  I didn't have the right clothes.  People didn't flock to me the way they did to them.  I mingled with them.  But I couldn't BE them.  

This post was featured as an editor pick on BlogHer.com

I've been blogging for about 4 years now.  At first I was totally oblivious to the whole blogger industry that was exploding around me.  I started seeing other bloggers post about comparing themselves to others, feeling inadequate and reading a post and wishing they could have written it.  I was like, what are they talking about?  Then I came out from under whatever rock I was hiding under and realized that there were some really popular blogs out there gaining thousands of followers and that blogging was moving in a new direction.  Then somewhere along the way I started having some of those feelings myself.  It was a feeling that I couldn't quite put my finger on. And then it dawned on me that some of those old feelings of wanting to be accepted and liked that I had in high school had resurfaced but substitute high school for the blogging world.  And it was kind of weird to realize this because as an adult I thought that I'd put those kind of emotions behind me.  I work full time, I pay bills.  I have a greater awareness of the world. I have a full happy life with fulfilling relationships.  I have a mortgage and a husband.  Why am I concerned about being popular, liked and coming up with a really witty status update that will stand out?  'Aint nobody got time for that.

The blog world is full of popular kids, cliques and social hierarchy.  And it can feel very competitive.  I'm not saying any of it's bad, good or intentional but it's there.  I think it's just the nature of the beast.  Here's the thing.  I've never been and will probably never be that cool kid.  I didn't win Prom Queen my Senior year in high school and I'm certainly not winning any popularity contests in the blog world today.  Popularity was important to me as an insecure teenager but it's not what I'm after now as a slightly less insecure adult blogger.  

I ran for class secretary my freshman year of high school.  It was a really bold move for someone like me.  I was terrified of the whole process and I still can't figure out what possessed me to do it.  Anyway, I failed miserably.  Not only because I was an unpopular nerd but because I was too afraid to 'put myself out there.'  I didn't want to put up too many signs.  I didn't want to hand out candy with a vote for me tag on it.  I didn't want to ask people to vote for me.  I was running for a class office but it was almost like I didn't want anyone to know that I was.  The more people that knew I was running the more that would know I failed.  Plus, I couldn't actually let them know how bad I really wanted it because that would make defeat even more embarrassing.  In that sense, I am just not a natural when it comes to selling myself.  I don't always like to put myself out there like that.  It makes me feel vulnerable and I've never liked asking people for help or favors.  I want you to like my blog but I don't necessarily want to ask you.  I'm stubborn.  I want you to stumble upon it and make the decision on your own. Perhaps by osmosis.   

I'm not the life of the party.  I'm more of an understated introvert and I guess my blog is too.

I can't be more eloquent, funnier, craftier, more domestic, more fashionable, more this or more that then I am.  It's too exhausting to try to be something I'm not. I can only be me.

Popularity is seductive.  We all want to be liked.  Being liked is validating.  The more validated we become the more we want it.  The less validated we are the more we want it.  It's a natural desire but I try to be conscious of not letting it determine how I feel about myself.

I have come to understand that not everybody is gonna like me even if I like them.  Not everyone will want to read my blog even if I read theirs.  And vice versa.  A lot of people are not going to be interested in a single thing I have to say. It doesn't have to be personal.  It's just life.  We can only read so many blogs in a day anyways.

I can comment 'till the cows come home and some bloggers will never acknowledge my existence.  Ever.  And I am not a no reply commenter. Again, trying not to take it personally.

There is no exact science to blogging or popularity.  It's what you make it and it's what you bring to the table as an individual.  Some bloggers will write two words or post a picture and get a million comments and the next person could post those same words with picture and get none.  Some blogs employ all the tricks in the book to gain readers and then there are others that don't have to.

I realize that if I don't do certain things I may never get noticed.  If I don't throw a party I can't expect anyone to show up.  If I don't coordinate my ideas I can't expect a lot of people to know about them.  There are many tools of the trade available for growing readership but I haven't really utilized all of them.  I can't seem to decide what feels right for me and my blog.  I do a bit of self promotion here and there but mostly I just take it as it comes.  It's the so called organic approach.  Which basically means slow. 

Then there is the business side of it all.  Thinking too much about word optimization, page views, or how to 'drive' traffic makes my brain hurt.  Marketing what?  It's too much like work and I don't think of this blog as a job.

Here are the blog stats in all their glory.  It's not anything to brag about.  Normally you see this stuff posted on the Sponsor tab of a blog but I don't have one of those so I'm putting them here and after this you are likely never to see them again.  I have the lowest number of likes in the history of any Facebook page I have ever seen.  I actually think it's kind of funny.  I'm still not sure why I even bother with it.  I don't pay that much attention to page views but I've seen anywhere between 180-450 per day based on the blogger dash numbers which are known to be inflated.  Nowhere near the astronomical 8,000 per day page views that some get.  My jaw about fell off my head when I saw that posted on someone's blog.  Maybe I should be embarrassed of these stats after 4 years of blogging but I'm not.  They're just numbers.  I wish I felt the same about my weight.

GFC:  236
Bloglovin':  68
Feedburner: 8
Twitter: 105
Instagram:  63
Facebook: 7
Pinterest:  37

I try not to confuse popularity or followers with quality.  It's really important for me to think about MY definition of blogger success.  Whatever that means to me is what will dictate the direction of my blog and how I feel about myself as a blogger.  Not everyone is cut out for blogger mogul status. Yes, you heard it here first; I've coined the phrase.  It's very impressive how far some of them have taken their blogs and I think that's great but not every blogger will get there. 

For me it can't be about followers because if it is then that means I'm a total fail and I refuse to believe that's the case.  I just want to write.  I'm working on a novel.  I enjoy documenting my life so I can look back on it later in life and I've been doing so since I was 9.  For me it's about good writing and feeling good about what I'm putting out there.  It's about consistency.  I may not have a set blogging schedule but for the most part you know you won't go too long without having me pop up in your news feed.  I love the relationships that I've formed with other bloggers.  It's about writing, engaging with other bloggers and having a good time doing it.  As long as I'm doing that I'm good.  I'm not going to sit here and say I don't want people to read my blog or that I wouldn't be happy to have higher numbers.  I wouldn't be on the internet if I didn't want anyone to read.  Having higher numbers would be cool...but not having that doesn't make me enjoy blogging any less.

I may not be good at getting a lot of people to like me but I am good at getting a few people to like me a lot.  There are some really good blogs that not a whole lot of people are reading and I like to believe that one of them is mine.  Not so much the whole nobody is reading thing, but that my blog is good.

Why I Blog

I've been blogging officially here since 2009 but unofficially I've been doing this since about 2003 in other places before it was even known as blogging.  You see, I'm a writer.  I don't get paid to do it.  I didn't major in it in college.  I'm writing a novel that may never get published and frankly I have no idea if I'm even any good at it.  All I know is that I love doing it and I have for as long as I can remember.  I've been keeping journals since I was 9 and I still have them all.  Something in me just always wanted to read words and write words and share words.  When I'm inspired I write.  When I'm sad I write.  When the world feels out of control and scary...you guessed it.  I write.  I write better then I speak.  I find it so much easier to articulate my thoughts in feelings with the written word rather then verbal.  Not to say that it's always easy to put my thoughts on paper.  Sometimes I draw a blank.  Sometimes I write something and I'm frustrated because it's not what I meant to say or how I meant to say it but I always feel a huge sense of satisfaction when I finally get those words arranged and out of my head the way I intended.

Aside from the writing part of it connecting with others similar to and different from myself is just one of the many reasons I love blogging so much.  At some point it wasn't just enough just to write anymore.  I found that I also wanted to share my writing and engage with other writing as well.  I'm not a journalist or an author so I blog.  I get to have my own little space with my words on it that belongs to me and anyone else that chooses to read it.  So many wonderful memories are here for me to look back on.  I think it's so cool that we all just put ourselves out there on the internet often for no other reason then just because we have this desire to do so.  I love it that there are so many of us in all different stages of life doing this thing we call blogging, connecting and learning from each other in ways that we never would have otherwise.

Blogging has changed so much in the last three years.  When I first started out it seems it was just about writing, sharing and getting a few comments along the way.  Then blog  awards with Q and A's and tagging started going around.  Back then you might see a giveaway here and there usually by one blogger at a time but now you hardly see a day when there aren't any.  There are group giveaways, linkups, sponsored posts, guest posting, blogger gift exchanges and social media linking.  Button swapping, blog sponsoring and buying and selling add space is all the rage.  If you haven't had a blog make-over yet you really should be looking into it.  The focus seems to have shifted to getting your blog noticed and increasing traffic.  Some blogs boast thousands of followers and more bloggers are generating an income.  Like everything else it's evolving and I think that's a good thing but there are lots of blogging trends I choose not to take part in.  Yes, I want people to read my blog but I don't view it as a business enterprise and I don't want generating followers to be my focus.  Blogging is truly an industry now which is great.  I'm just glad to be a part of it in some way.

Every now and then I get caught up in the numbers.  I compare myself to other bloggers and start to feel that what I do over here is pointless.   There are sooo many blogs out there with sooo many followers that I wonder how it's possible for me to stand out.  There are days I feel like I couldn't pull a blog post out my butt even if I wanted to and the next thing I know I'm inspired to do a silly confessional post or something will happen that I can't wait to write about.  I exchange some fun e mails with a fellow blogger or I see a post with this pair of shoes that I didn't know I couldn't live without.  Someone leaves a comment telling me that my post really resonated with them or a blogger writes something that tugs at my heart and makes me learn a little something about myself.  Then I'm reminded.  I do this because I love to and the way I stand out is just by being myself.  I can't be another blogger I can only be me.  I didn't start this to make money or to gain the most followers.  When I disentangle myself from blog stats and the never ending barrage of social media I remember that none of that really matters.   I do this because I want to and because I enjoy it and there doesn't need to be anything else.

 Why I Love Blogging  

Popularity and Blogging

Why I Like Being a Small Blog 

A Novel Idea

Sept 2009:  6,800 words, 27 pages

Jan  2012:  10,131 words, 42 pages

Feb 2012:  0

Mar 2012:  0

Apr 2012:  13,513 words, 53 pages

May 2012: 19,282 words, 80 pages

June 2012:  23,056 words, 95 pages

July 2012:  29,517 words, 123 pages

Aug 2012:  35,058 words, 146 pages

I started this in 2009, put it down and didn't look at it again for three whole years.  I never even said it out loud to anyone that writing a book was something I wanted to do until this year even though it's been floating around in the back of my mind for a really long time. I mean, you can't just casually say, "Oh, yeah I want to write a book."  It seems so impossible.

Who am I to think I am actually capable of such a thing?

I love to read and to write. I used to sign up for Summer reading programs at the library when I was a kid. I've been writing in journals since I was 9.  I used to write stories and enter writing contests in elementary school. I've always loved writing, but I have no clue if I'm any good at it. If I'd been true to my heart in college I probably would have majored in creative writing or journalism or anything to do with writing.  In retrospect I wish I had. Sociology may have seemed more practical at the time but I've never even come close to working in that field so I could have gotten a degree in anything based on where I'm at now.

Writing a book has always been a dream of mine, but I put it off for so long because I was afraid. I didn't know where to begin and I was afraid of finding out that I wasn't capable of it. Eventually, I put some words on paper in 2009 and got a nice start. Then I got stumped. Then life happened. I was too busy with house hunting, wedding planning and post wedded bliss. There was always some excuse.

Sneak Peak

Every  now and then I'd get this burning desire to write a book and instead of ignoring it this year I dusted off the old manuscript and got to working on it again. It's going to be Fiction.  I had to re read everything and figure out where I was and then where I wanted to go, but once I got started again I wrote 20 pages in one day making me think....okay maybe I can do this. I need to get to about 60,000-80,000 words which is about 225 pages for it to be novel length, so I made it one of my new year's resolutions to write 15 pages per month. I'm a little bit behind. I skipped Feb and March altogether because I was taking a few college classes, and I'll be gone for half of next month so I'm not sure how I'll do then. I'm okay with that as long as I do my best to write every month.

Sometimes I hit a wall.  I don't know what I want my characters to do, or it feels boring and don't know what to do to liven things up. When that happens I get a little discouraged, and put it aside but at some point I force myself to pull it out and keep writing. Write something. Anything. I keep telling myself that if I just make myself keep going, eventually the story will unfold. I keep notes about the characters and a timeline of events as I go so I can keep track of what's going on. With every page I write, I gain more confidence in myself that I might actually be able to finish it. 

Even now that I've decided I'm doing this the words "my book" still feel very strange coming out of my mouth.  It's something that a lot of people say they want to do, but only a handful ever actually do it. I really want to be one of the ones that do. I'm not even worried about whether or not I would get it published or not.  I just want to be able to say that it was something big I wanted to do and that I did it.

Dear Diary

Even after you get the kids out you are still stuck with their stuff.  Thank goodness mom hasn't been charging storage all of these years.  Thirteen years later I have finally been reunited with many precious mementos that I just didn't have space for until now.  How crazy is it that so many childhood memories fit into two plastic bins?  It's like my own personal time capsule.

My first two Diaries

Among the treasures, most prized are my journals.  All 16 of 'em dating back to 1986 when I was in elementary school.  The Cabbage Patch Kids Diary was my first and the last spiral bound ends in 2003.  That's 17 years.  Half of my life is documented between those pages.  As I skimmed a journal from 1990 my Freshman year high school schedule fell out.  It's all there.  Every dream, every hope and every fear.  The tears I shed and the joys I felt are all documented in my bubbly cursive writing which actually hasn't change all that much.  I lived for Pizza, slumber parties, reading books, cheerleading, and gymnastics.  I believed that having a boyfriend and getting asked to homecoming would somehow change my life.  There are so many things I'd forgotten about.  I had a pen pal from Michigan and I used to sleep with my little sister when she was two years old to make sure she got to sleep.  We had Pizza for dinner a lot, I went to a million slumber parties, and there always seemed to be some big to do between my parents about if I would be allowed to go camping again with Beth or go to Chelsea's house. 

17 years worth of written journals

Oddly enough, as much as I've changed over the years I also haven't.  I can see plenty of thoughts of today reflected in my childhood musings of yesterday.  I'm still terrified of spiders, always my own worst critic, and enjoy being physically active.  I have however, discovered there are other things aside from Burger and Fries on restaurant menus, and acquired a greater sense of confidence and love for myself, that I didn't have as a child.  It's almost painful to read how harshly I berated myself for not being skinny enough, popular enough or pretty enough.  Having documented everything all of these years has really allowed me to recover long forgotten memories and keep them forever.  It's like reading a book except it's the story of my life written with my own hand.  I've had so much fun getting re acquainted with my adolescent self.  Here are some word for word quotes taken from my journals. 

May 19, 1986 
Dear Diary, Today was ok.  I got in trouble because I didn't want Jennifer to ride my bike.  My mom made me go to my room and I went upstairs and listened to music and I felt like running away.  Bye.

April 5, 1987 
Dear Diary, For my birthday I got a pound puppy, doll, Cabbage Patch clothes, Uno game, school kit, barbie clothes, two pencils, a ball and perfume.  My party was fun.  We played games.

January 2, 1990
In Family Life we're studying Human Sexuality.  It's kind of embarrassing.

January 13, 1990
Mommy and Daddy got doughnuts when they went grocery shopping.  Yum!  I want to have a slumber party for my birthday.  I worked the whole thing out on paper.

November 25, 1990
The things I want most for Christmas is a bedspread set for my day bed, head phones, overnight bag, Caboodle, Gymnast series books and my own room.  

May 20th 1991 
I MADE IT!! I'M A CHEERLEADER.  I have been waiting all year for this.  I'm a JV Cheerleader!  I'm so happy.  

September 19, 1992 
We had to pull over at a gas station so that Ryan could finish throwing up.  I'm never getting drunk.  NO WAY!! It is not worth it.

September 24, 1992
I want him to ask me to dance sooooooo bad.  Then maybe he'll like me.

April 21, 1993 
I'm a major teacher's pet in History.  It's embarrassing.  Today he said everyone had to put away their news paper but me because I could do whatever I want.

April 26, 1993
It's probably going to be too scary for me to ever kiss a boy.    

March 9, 1994
What's the point of me having my license if mom's too afraid to let me drive anywhere?

May 22, 1994 
My body was hurting so much.  It was an awesome gymnastics meet though.   It was sad when they called all the Seniors walk out.  I almost cried.  This was my last meet.  It felt so good to go up there and get medals.  Then to be CIF Champ is amazing.  I can't believe it really happened.  I worked so hard for this.

I never stopped writing.  I just stopped doing it on paper and started doing it online because it has always been something I wanted and needed to do.  In 2003 where the paper journals end I started a private online Diary.  I skipped over to My Space in 2005 and started blogging there before it was even called blogging.  In 2009 I discovered Blogger and have been happily settled over here ever since.  I migrated all of my old Diaryland and My Space entries into a private blog over here so all of my thoughts are now in one place.  I have my public blog that is open to the public, but I still have a private blog for my eyes only where I continue to record my thoughts.  It's amazing to read how far I've come and almost scary that there are so many things that I simply would have forgotten about had I not written it all down. 

I think I missed my calling.  I should've been a writer.  Or, maybe I already am.