Edgy Mama

Having a child of each gender is fascinating. Enviro-spouse and I think of ourselves as politically correct, gender fluid parents–even so, I’ve come to believe that hormones are POWERFUL agents.

This has been brought home to me with specific strength as a lifelong friend of mine is currently undergoing gender reassignment. She knows, better than most, what hormones do–physically, emotionally, and in totality. After all, she was saddled with testosterone for 36 years and now is having to re-endure adolescence under the influence of estrogen–something that not many folks get to experience.

Today, a couple of young boys from our ‘hood gave a fort to my kids that they had built out of cardboard boxes. My offspring ate lunch in the fort and played in it for over an hour while I did yardwork (heaven!). Then the threat of rain enduced us to bring the new playtoy inside. In the process, it split into separate large boxes. My daughter promptly claimed one box, moved it into the dining room, set it up with pillows, stuffed animals, and Legos, and called it home. My son, on the other hand, spent TWO hours shredding and ripping the other box to pieces–by hand. He was so bent on destruction that he refused dinner until every bit of cardboard and tape had been reduced to confetti. Our living room looked like someone had smashed a giant pinata and then turned on a wind fan (especially since a layer of toys had been flung around the room before the box dissection started).

Since birth, my son has been a destroyer–a sweet, gentle little guy who just wants to tear things apart. Is this normal? Is it testosterone? And most importantly, what will happen as his hormone levels increase?

Rocky and his brother Houdini two years ago. Weren’t they adorable? 

Rocky, aka the Rock ‘n Roller, just because. 

Approximately 700 words on Janus Watchers so far this week. Another 700 words on The Magic Road and the Long Green Line short story, which I’d like to submit to the Asheville Writer’s Workshop Contest (the deadline is June 25–the final judge is, believe it or not, Kurt Vonnegut). I’ve also started writing a ghost story, based on a terrifying dream I had this week.

Chapters 3-5 of Janus Watchers are going through Critters this week. I’ve only received one critique so far, but it is a helpful one (and highly complimentary–always a relief. I have yet to get one of those, “You suck as a writer– please stop writing now” critiques).

I’ve spent a great deal of time learning about taser stun guns and their effects and researching in greater detail the 1974 Turkish invasion of Cyprus.

The first ten pages and query letter for Janus Watchers need to be to the Yosemite Writer’s Conference Contest by July 15. Is anyone else going to Yosemite?

And school’s out for summer–so, I’ll be on a catch as I can writing schedule. Feeling the pressure.

60,693 / 80,000 (76.0%)

My middle sister gave birth to identical twin girls this afternoon. At just under 36 weeks, both girls weigh close to five pounds and are healthy little cherubs. Sis and her hubby are thrilled (of course, the morphine pump helps, given the major abdominal surgery necessary to bring said babes into the light). I’m thrilled that I’m done with the whole birthing/newborn/life-changing/sleep-deprived intensity–and I’m happy my sister has begun the never-ending journey of motherhood.

In other exciting news, Chad, Lord of the Pants, (www.tempermentalblender.blogspot.com) has agreed to become my personal weaponry technical advisor. He has tackled this challenging (and underpaid) position by writing me a long dissertation on tasers (not stun guns, you dumb suburban housewife, TASERS). So, everyone go to Chad’s blog and thank him for me (and check out how cute he was when he was eight).

Since the Chekhov’s Gun post invoked such an interesting discussion, I’ll try to post further thoughts on tasers, once I’ve had a chance to absorb and digest the large amount of fascinating detail that Chad tossed my direction.

One reason blogging is so addictive is that one can meet and learn from such interesting folks.

In Southern Cyprus, a magic road plunges towards the coast. The road is not heavily traveled, which is good, because that would make experiencing its magic impossible.

What you must do is this: you must stop your car or truck at some random point on the downhill slope of the dusty road. You must turn off the engine. Do not engage the brake. Wait for a few seconds. Then, as your multi-ton vehicle begins to roll backwards up the hill, you may squeal in delight. You, and the heap of metal you rode in on, will roll uphill, defying gravity, for several hundred feet.

This is one of the great mysteries of the world.

Probably the most famous maxim attributed to Anton Chekhov is, “If you hang a gun on the wall in Act I, you must use it in Act III.”

The quotation is alternately attributed as, “If you introduce a gun at the beginning of the play, you must use it by the end of the play.” Regardless of the exact wording, Chekhov’s gun pithily encompasses the art of foreshadowing.

For some reason, I was thinking about Chekhov’s gun last night as I was waiting for Wild Son to go to sleep (”I can’t go to sleep by myself, Mommy”), and I had an uh-oh moment.

I realized that I introduced a stun gun in Chapter Two of Janus Watchers, and, 60,000 words into the novel, I HAVE NOT used the stun gun. And, to make matters worse, the character who was given the stun gun has had ample opportunity for it to come in handy.

This is the kind of thing writers obsess about in quiet moments.

I love camping–particularly when I’m not. Enviro-spouse and a few of his Daddy friends take all respective kids camping in the spring and fall. Having 24 hours alone, to do whatever I want, whenever I want, is bliss. And just when I start to miss the maddening chaos of my family, they come home.

On Saturday, I spent most of the day at a Scrapbooking Workshop. Yes, yours truly engages in scrapbooking (I pledge not to take up knitting–as it might lead to further edge erosion). I find it immensely satisfying to organize photos, paste them onto pages, and journal about them. Unlike my writing, I don’t care if my scrapbook pages are imperfect, marred, or lacking in clear chronology. At the end of the day, I get to take home pages of colorful memories to enjoy and to share with my family.

Because I am guilt-ridden at the moment, I took my laptop along and alternated writing with scrapbooking. Despite the chatter and distractions, I manage to produce approximately 600 words. One of my maxims is: if you want to complete a novel, you cannot be picky about when, where, and how you write.

After a nap, a long walk and a shower, I wandered down to our neighborhood bar and restaurant. An old friend was meeting me there for a late dinner. I walked onto the patio and was talking with one of the owners (Cathy) when she said, “Look behind you.” My across-the-street neighbors and dear friends were polishing off dinner and beers. So I joined them, then we were joined by my friend and a colleague of theirs. We meandered home around 12:30 (late for this Mama–stop laughing, Paul). The highlight of the evening, for my friends at least, was when I asked Cathy for a second beer. “You’re going to have another beer?” she asked, shock splashed across her face.

Sunday I wrote, read, and puttered around my clean, quiet home until the troops returned: tired, dirty, and happy.

Woohoo! 60,000 words on Janus Watchers. Everybody celebrate!

Of course, word count is fluid. I could cut a significant number in the editing stage (I’m shuddering to contemplate the editing of this behomoth I’ve created). Even so, word count is an excellent way of measuring progress, particularly when one is in the process of composing a novel. Again, thanks for your kind words.

60,000 / 80,000 (75.0%)

Okay, no one likes my environmental rants (or cares to comment on them). Sigh.

Since Eddo is out of town, I decided to pinch hit for him on The Blog Patrol site. Check it out (click on this title or on The Blog Patrol button in my sidebar–one day I’ll figure out internal links).

It’s a slow writing week–only about 500 words so far (only 300 on Janus Watchers–the other 200 are the beginning of a short story). But, Enviro-spouse is back tomorrow and taking the kids camping on Saturday. So, the word count WILL increase this weekend (and I’ll post another one of those cool word meters).

Happy blogging and send good vibes Genuine’s way if you haven’t already.