Skip to main content

on a completely different note

(Geez, how many blog posts am I going to write today?)

I just sent my very first book idea to my very first publisher.

Like two minutes ago.

Via email.

Which they could totally reject.

Via not ever answering my email.

I'm so nervous I think I'm going to pee myself...

Comments

Rachel Sue said…
Yea for you! I am so excited/nervous for you. (Mostly because I am putting myself in your shoes and therefore nervous/excited.) Good luck!
Emmy said…
Oh good luck!!! How exciting for you. I hope it works out
cc said…
Seriously? You are just full of surprises!
cc said…
I didn't mean to act so surprised...I mean, anything you write about would be hilariously awesome, but details, I need details!
Heidi said…
Can't wait to hear how this one turns out . . .
bobatharoo said…
You WILL send me one when it gets published. (Or at least tell us where it's being sold because I will grace my kids with your creativity!)
bobatharoo said…
because it totally will get published you know. I think you're amazing.
Claire said…
Good for you! In the meantime, Tena Lady.
LisAway said…
Oh, how exciting! Keep us posted!

Popular posts from this blog

GIVEAWAY (of the photo Christmas card variety)

I think I just creeped out my four year old. I pulled out the, "You'd better go to bed because Santa's Elves are watching you to make sure you're being good!" routine. His eyes got big, and round, and scared. And he said, "Why would they do that?!" Also, our church building burned down yesterday. No wait, it didn't. But the alarm went off, and the entire ward just sat there in the chapel (and gym, because we have an enormous ward.) I sat there too. I don't know what everyone else was thinking, but the thought going through my head was, "Can somebody please get that alarm turned off, it is WAY TOO LOUD!!!!" Seriously, I think our ward is now 37% deafer after that. Oh, and there was no actual fire. And the first fire truck to show up was driven by one of our ward members who was on duty that day. Good times. And now, that GIVEAWAY: For procrastinators everywhere (that would include me) I'm giving away one free photo Christmas card d...

hair loss and mourning

I like Monkey's hair long.  I tried to grow out Opie's hair when he was younger, but he has always had a tremendously large head, and he also has very thick wavy hair.  You pair those two together, throw in some long locks, and you've got yourself a genuinely bonified giant-head child.  So I've learned my lesson: keep Opie's hair short. But Monkey's hair?  It's so soft, and straight (our only straight-haired child) and super super cute when it's long.  SUPER CUTE.  (Agree with me - it's my blog.)  But not many people liked the whole long hair thing.  I kept having to threaten various family members with things like, "If I come back to find him with short hair I will DISOWN you, run away with my kids and you will never hear from us again.  EVER."  (Husband was particularly sensitive to this threat.) However, I did say that once random strangers started referring to him as a girl, I would consider cutting it.  And even though ...

so here's the thing...

I have to make an announcement. But it's not one that I'm thrilled to make. For the past week I've been ignoring it so that, like the proverbial dog, it will just GO AWAY. Honestly, the odds of it just going away are slim to fat-chance, so I should just announce it already. I'm moving. To Utah. Every time I think about it, I also think I'm going to throw up. I know there's a lot of people who like living in Utah, so I don't want to offend anyone, but I HATE UTAH. Direly. And when I moved away a decade ago I vowed never ever ever ev-er to move back.  EVER.  ( Motherboard told me last week to never make that vow because then God HAS to force you to move back - - too bad her warning is about 10 1/2 years too late.) So now, I'm sure you're asking yourself, "If you hate it so bad, why are you moving?"  Which is an excellent question. Husband got a new job.  With real live actual benefits (jobs without benefits are, shall we ...