tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59204604027687454252024-03-14T07:46:43.295-07:00Bright Lights and Saturday NightsThe humorous anecdotes and pitiful soliloquizing of a mystery author, with occasional side-lines into medieval recreation, calligraphy, armored combat, classical piano performance, art, books, and the behaviors of cats.Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-74736848793603823252015-11-08T20:46:00.000-08:002015-11-08T20:46:45.581-08:00Pick your Poison - 10 Questions For Mystery Writers<br />
Today I got to enjoy giving a lecture with my Sister in Crime, Antoinette Brown, on poisons. She discussed the psychological aspect, and I went over the various types of poisons and how they're treated. So, betwixt us both you see, I have compiled ten questions that as a writer can help to keep things consistent.<br />
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<b>1) Why Is your Killer Using Poison? </b><br />
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Is your murderer aged or infirm? Hate the sight of blood? Are they trying to get away with it by establishing an alibi far from time and place of death? Do they want the victim to suffer? (Poisoning can be a slow, agonizing way to die.) Figure out why your murder is using the poison, because that will help you answer the next question.<br />
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<b>2) Do they want their victim to die right away or over a long period of time? (Acute or Chronic poisoning?)</b><br />
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Does your murderer want to watch to make sure their victim is dead? Or will they trust to fate? Do they have to kill their victim before a new will is made? This also helps you narrow down your poison choice, so it's something to figure out.<br />
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<b>3) Does your Murderer want it to look like an accident or suicide?</b><br />
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In <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thousand-Deadly-Kisses-Justice-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00R1RF9I8/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1447034562&sr=8-2&keywords=A+Thousand+Deadly+Kisses" target="_blank">A THOUSAND DEADLY KISSES</a>, my murderer is trying to frame someone for murder. They aren't concerned with making it seem like an accident, so they chose a very 'overt' poison. A poisoner who is seeking to avoid any suspicion of homicide might choose something intended to look more accidental, like poisonous mushrooms given to someone known to go morel-hunting.<br />
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<b>4) What kind of poisons does your Murderer have Access to? </b><br />
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If your murderer is a medical professional, they have a wider range of access to various drugs. For example, an oncology nurse might be able to get some radioactive isotope seeds, or a pharmacist would be able to make custom-filled gel-caps, or slip in some similar-looking but far more lethal pills into an order. Does your murderer work in a laboratory that regularly uses cyanide in their experiments? Are they an artist with tubes of Cadmium yellow and Pthalocyanine blue? Are they a delivery driver for a pharmaceutical company? Or are they a housewife who goes for the old standby of rat poison from Wal-Mart?<br />
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<b>5)</b> <b>Is Your Murderer trained in Administering Poisons?</b><br />
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If the poison is to be given intravenously, is your murderer capable of using a syringe or a needle? If the poison is being slipped into a capsule, are they skilled at filling capsules? Consider your murderer's education, profession, and skills.<br />
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<b>6) Does the victim or the murderer have impaired senses? </b><br />
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Famously, Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot had one "failure" as a case, involving a blind old lady poisoning a box of chocolates. She was incapable of determining blue from pink, and put the wrong color lid back on the box after tampering with it. If your victim can't smell or taste well, then poison slipped into their food or perhaps into their toiletries might escape detection. If they can't see well, substituting different pills into a pill box, placebos for necessary medication or something more direct could be a safe choice for your poisoner. If your murderer is impaired, they may not be willing to risk certain types of poisons, out of fear of harming themselves by accident.<br />
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<b>7) How much Opportunity and Access does your Murderer have to their Victim?</b><br />
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If your murderer is constantly around their chosen victim, then they have more flexibility regarding their choice of poison. If they have access to their private spaces, they could put poison into their shampoo or toiletries, poison a toothbrush, and so on, taking a long time in the bathroom without comment. If they don't visit often, then they might have to bring the poison already prepared. In Agatha Christie's A POCKET FULL OF RYE, the murderer has someone slip a poisoned jar of preserves into the household, thus getting to the victim without ever stepping foot across the threshold.<br />
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<b>8) Is the Victim prone to Medical Issues- Allergies, Heart conditions, Diabetes?</b><br />
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If your victim is well known to have an intolerance of certain foods and a gluttony for them, the clever murderer can take advantage of this fact. A careful insertion of peanut-butter into a casserole for someone with peanut allergies, or filling a diabetic's diet coke with sugar and then replacing their insulin with saline? If the victim is a known 'herbal healer', and accidentally dies after a 'hemlock cleanse', well, who would investigate further? Often a victim's weakness can inspire the poisoner's urge to murder.<br />
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<b>9) What kind of medical treatment exists for the poison chosen and how fast can help get to your victim?</b><br />
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If the victim lives in a nursing home, then they will likely be checked on at least every eight hours, and medical intervention will begin quickly. If they live alone in a rural area, then help may not arrive until the mailman notices the mail piling up. Research the medical treatment available for a poisoning victim. EMS services now often can begin treatment for poisoning immediately. They are capable of pumping stomachs, inserting breathing tubes, and injecting counter-agents like Narcan for drug overdoses.<br />
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<b>10) How much of your chosen poison does it take to hit the LD-50 dose, and how much will your murderer use?</b><br />
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LD-50 is the average lethal dose, or the amount that will kill 50% of its average victims. If your poison requires your victim to eat an entire cupful to die, you may want to consider something more toxic as your poison of choice. If the LD-50 is very, very small, like a single cyanide pill of James Bond fame, then your murderer doesn't need to get very much.<br />
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As for researching poisons, these links could prove helpful!<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1.h2g2 - Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">www.h2g2.com</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Classic Poisons</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Infamous Historical Poisoners</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Alphabetical List of Lethal Poisons</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2.Wikipedia</span></div>
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<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki.list_of_poisonous_plants" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/list_of_poisonous_plants</span></a></div>
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<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/mushroomspoisoning" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/mushroomspoisoning</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki?toxicology" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki?toxicology</span></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">3.Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">www.atsdr.cdc.gov</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">4. American Association of Poison Control Centers</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.aapcc.org/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">www.aapcc.org</span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1-800-222-1222</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">5. American College of Medical Toxicology</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.acmt.net/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">www.acmt.net</span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Professional nonprofit association of physicians with recognized expertise in medical toxicology</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">6. Chemical Emergency Poison Control</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nation-wide Toll-free Poison Center Number 1-800-222-1222</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Provides callers with reliable information about poison exposure</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">7. Poison Prevention Education web site </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.ncbi.nim.nih.gov/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">www.ncbi.nim.nih.gov</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">8. World Health Organization</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.who.int/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">www.who.int</span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Basic analytical toxicology</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">9. Poisons: Sinister Species with Deadly Consequences by Dr. Mark Siddall</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">10. Book of Poisons: A guide for Writers by Serita Stevens and Louise Bannon, 2007, Writer’s Digest Books</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">11. The Poisoner’s Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York by Deborah Blum</span><br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-54393841864843742062015-01-11T13:42:00.000-08:002015-01-11T13:42:46.732-08:00Happy Twelfth Night! (SCA Post)<i>If you see the SCA post label on this post, it means it is related to my activities as a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism. Feel free to skip if you aren't into that kind of thing. :) </i><br />
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As a member of the Order of the Laurel (The worldwide level of recognition of mastery in the study and recreation of pre-1600 arts- in my case, for calligraphy and illumination.), it is my responsibility and privilege to take students as apprentices, and "train 'em up in the way they should go."<br />
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When I was placed on vigil to contemplate joining the Order of the Laurel in 2011, two newish scribes came bouncing into my tent to beam at me with "You're So Coool!" faces. Which totally freaked me out, because that was the moment that I realized what it really meant to be a Laurel. Lots of people Who Should Know had been telling me all day that I deserved it and that no, it wasn't a mistake. But it wasn't until those two newish scriblets told me how glad they were that I was being recognized, because they thought I was awesome and looked up to me / my work, that it sunk in. It wasn't about what *I* thought about myself and my work. Being a Laurel is about other people.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRNi6MzwNwConU6NQvpZx0Oy7kiSNXS6DM8AETiR9TabUwG4wNDS0DvnBB7avnO7iX7zMURoMWd9dqw9cE5E0OFRo8zmBxORPNAQM0V2DskCgaKbhCwZ1tsHoi89QbqkbJ7ULRLmmfNQg/s1600/I+is+a+Laurel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRNi6MzwNwConU6NQvpZx0Oy7kiSNXS6DM8AETiR9TabUwG4wNDS0DvnBB7avnO7iX7zMURoMWd9dqw9cE5E0OFRo8zmBxORPNAQM0V2DskCgaKbhCwZ1tsHoi89QbqkbJ7ULRLmmfNQg/s1600/I+is+a+Laurel.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right after I was elevated as a Laurel. I had that terrified look alllllll day. Photo by Owen Townes</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6v9d0Gw5F3406fyux4oSqphUZUlZPKoGZ3h_zn9O17GxdfGPOUYMBabpMvLP-M861XZ1THfwPYeo7ntS0_I36glr62oYFtd2TRiR0qeBxU1rCMjroltrLR-Oej0cQ6mTczX19UAjfdE/s1600/Isemay+apprentice+contract.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6v9d0Gw5F3406fyux4oSqphUZUlZPKoGZ3h_zn9O17GxdfGPOUYMBabpMvLP-M861XZ1THfwPYeo7ntS0_I36glr62oYFtd2TRiR0qeBxU1rCMjroltrLR-Oej0cQ6mTczX19UAjfdE/s1600/Isemay+apprentice+contract.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her apprenticing contract, which I made<br />her write - photo by Cheryn Rapp</td></tr>
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In 2012, I took one of those newish scriblets as my apprentice for the art of calligraphy. People had been telling us both for a year that we should get together, because we're both calligraphy-nerds, and calligraphy is one of those arts that is a combination of extremely subtle details and minute corrections to technique = large changes. We had had several conversations, about what we wanted out of the Laurel / Apprentice relationship. My own Laurel / Apprentice relationship was extremely close (and continues to be so today, as she's one of my best friends), and I wanted a similar relationship with my own students because it's been such a wonderful part of my life. She lived in a different state, so I was concerned about whether the distance would allow that closeness to build, but thanks to Modern Technology, that was less of an issue.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmLMwsZoM57ObpMl0XHMqD8qnyfFMR-p6fef-t3VaC7L2GlkZZDRJgGmeUwcv4o-OZL5EcslfW3QP0A70yTUIBZsMtbvOTfIxGuhQdmbfDeQbdycC1KqEE7peY25y9d1tUzPuwYbtXPc/s1600/Me+and+Isemay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmLMwsZoM57ObpMl0XHMqD8qnyfFMR-p6fef-t3VaC7L2GlkZZDRJgGmeUwcv4o-OZL5EcslfW3QP0A70yTUIBZsMtbvOTfIxGuhQdmbfDeQbdycC1KqEE7peY25y9d1tUzPuwYbtXPc/s1600/Me+and+Isemay.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The apprenticing Ceremony - whereupon I gave her a green belt <br />marking her as an apprentice. <br />Photo by Charlotte Hayes of Shutterbug Creations</td></tr>
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We have a lot in common. We both can be patient with others and impatient with ourselves, driven with the need for perfection, ferocious with our defense of quality and standards, and unforgiving of little mistakes that no one else ever notices. Luckily, my Laurel taught me to recognize those things in myself, and how to temper them, so that I could pass her wisdom on.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf__z-fywxWUtO_48OsNjgjOpIVlt_PdqbkSRPov3iCaV2pSx_cy6rpHMTe9cscXyvCL1GmWBJuZhDaCM0XTb57wWHE_YGXruOhP2nUGWJilgmBI6fyvD6VeAG98i5W1_lzdQTQjfgaZQ/s1600/Lucia+and+apprentices.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf__z-fywxWUtO_48OsNjgjOpIVlt_PdqbkSRPov3iCaV2pSx_cy6rpHMTe9cscXyvCL1GmWBJuZhDaCM0XTb57wWHE_YGXruOhP2nUGWJilgmBI6fyvD6VeAG98i5W1_lzdQTQjfgaZQ/s1600/Lucia+and+apprentices.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Laurel is the one with the riding crop. Photo by Bardulf Rouen.</td></tr>
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Her SCA name is Isemay the Nimble, and her dedication to improving her skills went past intimidating into almost worrisome. She didn't need me to prod her into harder work, or insane projects, because she jumped into those all by herself. I didn't have to tell her to practice, or even give her technical advice, because it wasn't long before she was better than I was, pulling off pen twists and tricks like she'd been doing them for years.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://th00.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2013/132/e/4/livia_s_golden_dolphin___sca_scroll_by_ismey_the_nimble-d65300l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://th00.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2013/132/e/4/livia_s_golden_dolphin___sca_scroll_by_ismey_the_nimble-d65300l.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An example of Isemay's work. Seriously?! This is ridiculous. Ridiculously AWESOME.</td></tr>
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<br />
She needed me to be a sounding board, and a lot of times, the questions she'd ask weren't because she didn't know the answers, but because she didn't have confidence that her answers were right. My job was to build her confidence, reassure her, and stand in her corner while she fought her own battles. My job was to keep her from beating herself up over the small mistakes, to learn to let things go by so that she could keep going forward, and to help her celebrate the triumphs. It has been a lot of fun.<br />
<br />
But unfortunately, everyone else could see how awesome she was too, and this last Saturday, she was also recognized as a member of the Order of the Laurel and a master of her art.<br />
<br />
There has never been a moment that I regretted having an apprentice or felt burdened by my duty to her as her Laurel. It has been a great joy and a great honor to be known as her Laurel, and I can't wait to see what she does next.<br />
<br />
Congratulations Isemay!<br />
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<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-72899164052827263002014-12-27T22:29:00.003-08:002014-12-27T23:03:18.198-08:0010 Things Organized People can Shove Where the Sun Don't ShineThis article, "<a href="http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-13807/10-things-organized-people-do-every-day.html" target="_blank">10 Things Organized People Do Every Day</a>" pops up in my Facebook feed at least once a week. As we approach the time of the Resolution Making, it gets even more frequent. Okay internet. I'll play your game. Let's see how this worked today.<br />
<br />
1.) <b>They plan each day the night before.</b> I always do this, but what this trite little suggestion completely ignores is the complete and random chaos of life. Especially the three year old (Bug) and the thirteen month old (Pickle) chaos generators.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What are we going to destroy today, Bug? <br />Mommy's hopes and dreams, Pickle. Mommy's hopes and dreams."</td></tr>
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<br />
My plan for the day:<br />
<br />
Go to the gym before ten.<br />
Go care for a very good friend's cats<br />
Go to Sam's to get milk,<br />
Go to Target to get tupperware to put the new train set pieces in, and the daughter her own jar of nail polish.<br />
<br />
(My christmas present was a gel manicure set, because I am fundamentally incapable of painting my nails and not smudging them within twenty minutes. The LED lamp dries it hard, and so far, I am LOVING IT. But the Bug was curious and wanted me to paint her nails, so I told her I'd let her pick out her own color to play with, as opposed to my SPECIAL AND EXPENSIVE GEL POLISH that makes me oh so happy. )<br />
<br />
Get the loose tea for the Sisters in Crime Tea Party in a week.<br />
<br />
Oh, and do the dishes, finish the laundry, feed children, clean up the living room with its decorative yogurt footprints, and get the gym bag repacked for tomorrow.<br />
<br />
THE ACTUAL HAPPENING:<br />
<br />
We all woke up around eleven, thanks to the thirteen month old and his desire to grow three molars at the same time. He doesn't want to sleep, and if Pickle don't sleep, nobody sleeps.<br />
I tried to feed the children. Pickle refused to eat the packet of applesauce, but was enthusiastic about squirting it all over his shirt. The shirt was changed. Bug refused to eat anything but a glass of milk. I had a protein shake, I packed snacks, the gym bag, and got the kids dressed.<br />
<br />
We got to the gym at 1:30. So far, so good, plan still possible. Pickle completely melted down at the realization that Mommy was about to disappear, so five minutes were <strike>wasted</strike> spent trying to soothe him a little. Gave up, went to do the speed workout so as to spare the poor childcare workers.<br />
<br />
Got to the cats, filled bowls, scooped poops, counted anti-social eyes glaring out from under the bed.<br />
<br />
We went to Sam's. We got milk, creamer, yogurt, cheese, Tupperware containers for the new toys, on-sale wrapping paper, and a cupcake-tote thingie I've been lusting for.<br />
<br />
We went to Target. I bought string cheese for the now-hangry children, a sandwich for me, bananas, and the nail polish, because the only way to salvage the plan is to not go home for lunch. Upon check-out, I discovered that the nail polish my child picked out was NINE BUCKS. No. We went back through the store and got something more in budgetary alignment. Hangry children violently objected.<br />
<br />
Bug ate the string cheese and two bananas in the car. Pickle ate the string cheese.<br />
<br />
Then, we went to the mall. I fully admit that perhaps I should have considered the wisdom of going to the mall two days after Christmas, but I did not. Eventually I clawed my way to the front of the desk at Teavana, aided by my stroller, and willingness to sic my toddler's siren-like wails on people.<br />
<br />
You know what makes people in the mall move? A three-year old shrilly yelling, "EXCUSE ME I CAN'T GET TO MOMMY BECAUSE YOU'RE IN THE WAY." She is a very articulate three year old, with a death glare that many a police officer would envy. She melted three people with her pouty lip and accusing eyes right into oblivion.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yeah, even a three-year old is gonna judge you."</td></tr>
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<br />
Eventually I managed to obtain tea for the local Sisters in Crime Holiday Tea party, at which point, my daughter, recognizing we were in the mall, began to beg and plead to be allowed to go the playground.<br />
<br />
We went to the playground, because she had been very <strike>useful</strike> good in the store. Thirty minutes of rampaging children.<br />
<br />
We went home. More on what happened next as we review the steps, but here's a spoiler. You know what you DIDN'T see in this list? Any cleaning, dinner making, writing, or other house-related productivity. It was left-over night, but moving on.<br />
<br />
2. <b>They have, and keep, only one To-Do list.</b><br />
<br />
I laughed hysterically. If I had ONE to-do list with everything on it, it would be eighteen pages long. Hell, the home-repair to-do list runs to four pages.<br />
<br />
I feel the need to clarify this one. They further recommend keeping a notebook, because it's harder to lose than an index card.<br />
<br />
I checked the bag I took today. There was not room for a notebook, among the diapers, change of clothes for each child, gym clothes for me, towel, water bottle, snack caddy, kids' water cups, wallet, and tiny toiletry bag. <br />
<br />
I'm already hauling around thirty pounds of child + bag, and now you want me to add a (probably) color-coordinated notebook with my entire to-do list that will fill twenty pages, in which I have to find the latest grocery list? Screw you and your notebook. I'll stick with my baby-slobber coated index card shoved in my back pocket. Thanks.<br />
<br />
3. <b>They spend at least 30 minutes going through and addressing emails in their inbox.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
My hotmail account has 730 unread emails in it. My primary gmail account had six. My secondary gmail account has twelve. (Hey, it must be royalty payment day!) This shouldn't be that bad, right? Okay. Let's go.<br />
<br />
Mark. Times are in minutes and seconds.<br />
<br />
0:45 - Turned computer on, logged into hotmail account. No critical emails to look at. I start deleting.<br />
<br />
1:05 - Pickle is crying because he just fell off the chair I didn't think he could climb yet.<br />
<br />
2:17 - back to emails, Pickle is safely ensconced in the pack-and-play.<br />
<br />
4:12 - I switch over to my primary gmail account, having given up again on the hotmail. While I'm logging in, an urgent scream of MOMMY echoes from the kitchen.<br />
<br />
4:16 - Having teleported from my desk to the kitchen, I find my daughter is upset because her ponytail is falling out.<br />
<br />
5:30 - back to emails.<br />
<br />
5:39 - Pickle starts crying. He is tired of the pack-n-play and wants out.<br />
<br />
5:46 - I have made it a third of the way through one email when my daughter needs to potty.<br />
<br />
7:18 - Pickle is now screaming. He REALLY wants out. I am still wiping butts.<br />
<br />
8:12 - Pickle is halfway out of the pack-n-play thanks to a careful stacking of solid toys that have provided him enough leverage. I am just in time to tip him back in. He is not amused.<br />
<br />
8:42 - I have responded to one email. Bug wants me to paint her fingernails.<br />
<br />
10:28 - I started to open another email. Pickle has been released under the lobbying of my eardrums.<br />
<br />
10:42 - I get the mop because my daughter has left her milk cup where Pickle can reach it.<br />
<br />
15:13 - I sit down again. The next email requires me to open up an excel spreadsheet to log information.<br />
<br />
21:42 - The silence is suspicious. I get up to go investigate.<br />
<br />
21:52 - I get the mop again.<br />
<br />
21:59 - I explain that the toilet is not an appropriate place to play with bath toys.<br />
<br />
27:10 - Kids have been washed and clothes are changed. Bath toys are getting washed and bleached.<br />
<br />
27:50 - Bug is mad because Pickle chewing on the remote turned off her cartoons. Must go turn back on the cable box, the t.v., and re-find Peppa Pig.<br />
<br />
28:14 - Bug is hungry. Pickle didn't appear to be hungry until Bug got her yogurt, and then he went ballistic.<br />
<br />
29:43 - Bug has eaten half her yogurt, Pickle has been given apple bits, I am back at my desk and set to .... What, I'm out of time already!?<br />
<br />
Screw your thirty minutes. Seriously. I check my email all day on my phone because I can do it in thirty second intervals. Anything that requires an actual response is going to wait until after bedtime.<br />
<br />
4. <b>They clear their desk of paper piles</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
What paper on my desk? Is this really much of a problem in the modern day? Or is this just because I have a paper-eating child who guarantees that any scrap of paper will be rendered down into an nonredeemable goo, and therefore forced me to use alternative note and list-making methods? I don't have paper piles on my desk. Now if you said BOOK piles...<br />
<br />
5. <b>They have a morning ritual and an evening ritual.</b><br />
<br />
Pfft. I do this.<br />
<br />
Morning: Get up, feed children, hide in bathroom until they hunt me down and make me come out. Shower may or may not happen, contacts usually happen. Getting dressed depends on whether or not I intend to leave the house.<br />
<br />
Evening: Oh we have a ritual. Do we EVER have a ritual. <br />
<br />
9:00 - Bath time<br />
9:30 - Start intimating that not only is bath time over, but it's BEEN over.<br />
9:32 - Start threats regarding bath time being over.<br />
9:34 - Issue order to evacuate the bath tub.<br />
9:35 - Agree to one last game before getting out.<br />
9:46 - Demand bath tub evacuation OR ELSE.<br />
9:48 - Remove Bug from bath tub, despite high-decibel wailing.<br />
9:50 - Refuse Bug's demand for ice lolly treat for being good in the bath tub.<br />
10:00 - Time to watch Octonauts!<br />
10:30 - Daddy play time for Bug, Pickle book time<br />
10:45 - Vitamins for everyone.<br />
11:00 - Begin negotiations to brush teeth. Pickle is tucked into bed.<br />
11:12 - Insist that play time is over and teeth-time is now.<br />
11:15 - Start threat of loss of Bug book time if teeth are not brushed in five minutes.<br />
11:20 - Frogmarch Bug into bathroom to brush teeth.<br />
11:30 - Husband escapes to bed, Bug gets read a book, issued a small snack and her night night cup of water, kissed, and tucked in.<br />
11:33 - Bug is told to go to bed whether she wants to sleep or not.<br />
11:36 - Bug is told again to go to bed whether she wants to sleep or not.<br />
11:38 - Pickle wakes up because Bug is having a tantrum.<br />
12:00 - Both children have worn their last gasp of defiance out and are asleep. Usually.<br />
<br />
.. Oh, did you mean a ritual for me?! ... I take my contacts out and brush my teeth.<br />
<br />
6. <b>They spend ten minutes at the end of every day tidying up.</b><br />
<br />
Seriously? Do you time them? Is it only ten minutes? This seems more like a good idea being presented as "Other people who have tidier lives than you do this. Join them! Be a more acceptable and generally better human being today! All it takes is ten minutes ..."<br />
<br />
Ok. Fine. In my ten minutes, I emptied the dryer, moved the laundry from washer to dryer, filled the washer again, and scooped the cat box. The yogurt footprints in the living room have not been addressed, and any burglar breaking into my house will need an podiatrist to remove the Lego from his feet if he avoids a full spine-breaking suplex from slipping on a random bit of train set.<br />
<br />
7. <b>They put their clothing in the laundry bin</b>.<br />
<br />
You know, I'm starting to sense that this article was secretly written with someone in mind. But sure. I put clothing in the laundry bin(s). Right after I pick it all up off the floor and put it in the bin so I can carry it easily down to the laundry room.<br />
<br />
8. <b>They never leave dishes in the sink.</b><br />
<br />
What, never? Not even when they're trying to clear the table from breakfast so they can set it for dinner, which you didn't do in hopes of actually getting to the gym before the childcare closed, and the baby loves to crawl into the dishwasher, so that you can't leave the damn thing open, so where the hell are you going to put the dishes in your hands, while the toddler is yelling about being hungry, and the paramedic husband is trying to eat the food directly out of the pot after a twelve hour shift that was too busy to allow for lunch to be eaten? Not even then?<br />
<br />
Well, goody for these imaginary people. Also, I am reeeaaallly starting to suspect the personal bias.<br />
<br />
9. <b>They carve out time for lunch</b>.<br />
<br />
... I don't understand this one. Who doesn't eat lunch, besides paramedics, cops, nurses, and medical interns, all of whom might have their hands too deep in someone's intestines to grab a sandwich? I don't think I'd be okay if my paramedic asked me if I could hold off on the heart attack for thirty minutes, as they're trying to carve out lunch time so they can be an Organized Person, but maybe the rest of the world will be more understanding that Grandma should have waited until after lunch time to fall out. I'm sorry medical / service peeps. You also, cannot join the ranks of the Organized Persons.<br />
<br />
I like lunch so much I eat it twice a day. But then again, I'm nursing, so I'm perpetually hungry, thank you very much hormones.<br />
<br />
10. <b>They open their mail</b>.<br />
<br />
... Really? Opening all the junk mail will make me a more organized person? Reading that I may be eligible for a new credit card that I don't want or need will help me join these magical ranks of people who live in the white-carpet-and-couches homes in the Real Simple magazine? I never see toddler rage in those magazines, so I want to live there. There's also no poop blowouts, or tired husbands, or overworked mommies. They also all have perfect hair and skin, and their clothes are always stylish.<br />
<br />
I open my real mail instantly, shredding the envelope like a Wolverine because I love to get mail. I love Christmas cards and letters and packages. I love mail. It hasn't helped. <br />
<br />
I'm sorry Organized People. I will never be one of you. But I am on top of my own schedule, my children are healthy and happy, and my husband loves me, even as he secretly mourns the lack of June Cleaver in his life when he steps on a three-inch yield sign, so I'm good. You go on with your envy-inducing selves, because I know that every now and then? One of you wishes you were me, too. :)<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgre3ejT64ytpSuwz_wlRSoSrt5Ri1hB4KNYl-zCiSad5jVmbpAD4nO7qXDeQKcSis5M7__wFjiLNq4U0-cpXdYpszbTIN-tO63dHxtkDvDW1Fs-On7AOh61bR1QyrrQb_CLUq7RwvhQcg/s1600/20140406_161751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgre3ejT64ytpSuwz_wlRSoSrt5Ri1hB4KNYl-zCiSad5jVmbpAD4nO7qXDeQKcSis5M7__wFjiLNq4U0-cpXdYpszbTIN-tO63dHxtkDvDW1Fs-On7AOh61bR1QyrrQb_CLUq7RwvhQcg/s1600/20140406_161751.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I sleep best on my children. That way I know exactly where they are.</td></tr>
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<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-86345058970649777922014-12-17T22:44:00.001-08:002014-12-17T22:44:18.420-08:00Book 2 in the Justice & Mercy Series! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thousand-Deadly-Kisses-Justice-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00R1RF9I8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1418882953&sr=1-1&keywords=A+Thousand+Deadly+Kisses" target="_blank">Kindle version available now</a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">Mercy Givens, feisty genius behind the Givens Detective Agency, is determined to win the San Antonio Chili Chompers Cook-Off Competition Her motivation? To stick it to Marlene Givenchy, reigning Chili Chomper Queen and world-class local diva. Justice, Mercy’s long-suffering twin sister and agency partner, has humbler goals: to get through the competition without strangling one or both of the competitors! </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">When a Cook-Off judge, who also happens to be Marlene’s lover, dies after sampling her chili, Marlene and Mercy take center stage as suspects number one and two. Marlene hires the twins to find out who poisoned her chili, but it’s not long before she’s arrested for the crime. Mercy, frankly, isn’t sure whether Marlene is innocent or guilty. But it soon becomes apparent that the twins have taken over first place on the murderer’s To-Do list! </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">Justice and Mercy pull out all the stops to do what they do best – find the truth, dodge bullets, and catch a killer! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">Print version is coming soon, (as soon as I get my proofs! Digital versions available on <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-thousand-deadly-kisses-britni-patterson/1120916723?ean=2940150080591&itm=1&usri=2940150080591" target="_blank">Nook</a>, iBooks, Kobo (soon! There appears to be an error), and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thousand-Deadly-Kisses-Justice-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00R1RF9I8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1418882953&sr=1-1&keywords=A+Thousand+Deadly+Kisses" target="_blank">Amazon</a>. Print versions will be available as soon as I get my proofs approved. (Darn Christmas mail slowing down the world!) Also, look at that fabulous design by <a href="http://www.box-a-brand.com/" target="_blank">The Brand Box</a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">Thank you all for your support, and if you have any questions or want to talk about the book, feel free to post in the comments!</span></div>
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-52598816114259934202014-10-27T09:13:00.002-07:002014-10-27T20:54:40.861-07:00"How did you write your book?" <br />
"How did you write your book?" <br />
<u><br /></u>
<u><br /></u>
<u>October 9, 2009:</u> <br />
<br />
I was RIF'd from my job as an accountant. I decided to seriously try writing as a career. The husband was a new paramedic, we had no children, we could survive on his salary while I tried.<br />
<br />
<u>December 17, 2009: </u><br />
<br />
First draft of the novel was finished. 45,202 words. I realized that this was too short. I also had the first 100 pages or so dedicated to one case, which I closed and wrapped up before embarking upon the next case. And NEVER came back to the first case or tied the two together. And I got called on it, by multiple readers, but I didn't know how to fix it. So I ignored it. (Not a good decision.)<br />
<br />
<u>February 8, 2010: </u><br />
<br />
I make a fictional blog for my MC's, intending to put fiction on it as "samplers." A month later I read several blogs advising NOT to do this because it is excessively harmful to your publication journey. I take it down again.<br />
<br />
<u>April 15, 2010:</u><br />
<br />
I decide to go back to school for a publishing degree, because I was stuck. I couldn't start on something else until I had finished that first novel, and while I couldn't justify the fine arts degree, the publishing degree seemed awesome as a second choice. I discover that there is no such thing as a degree in publishing. I decide to go combo English / Business.<br />
<br />
<u>May 2010:</u><br />
<br />
Got pregnant. Freaked out about everything.<br />
<br />
<u>June 16, 2010:</u><br />
<br />
Got unpregnant. Fetus never developed a heartbeat. I was far more disappointed than I thought I'd be. Lost a few months to vague mourning and depression. But I am accepted to UNC Chapel Hill, and I start classes in August!<br />
<br />
<u>September 2010: </u><br />
<br />
Get re-pregnant.<br />
<br />
<u>November 2010:</u><br />
<br />
Figure out how the hell I can FIX the glaring issues of the split-personality novel, and all it will take is a complete and total rewrite, and insertion of about 30,000 words. No biggie!<br />
<br />
<u>December 2010:</u><br />
<br />
I post hopefully on my class forum about starting a writing group. Two people respond. I am disappointed at first, but we start meeting. And they are fantastic. They start reading chunks of the novel and providing MASSIVELY AWESOME feedback.<br />
<br />
<u>January 2011:</u><br />
<br />
I get a new job!<br />
<br />
<u>June 2011</u>:<br />
<br />
I am RIF'd for the second time due to a larger company buying mine. The baby is born. Life is ridiculously complicated.<br />
<br />
<u>August 2011:</u><br />
<br />
I manage to write 2,000 words on the novel for the first time since the baby showed up, and I practically throw myself a party. With chocolate chip cookies.<br />
<br />
<u>September 2011: </u><br />
<br />
I happily note that I think my rewrite is about 1/5 of the way done. I am not correct.<br />
<br />
<u>March 15, 2012:</u><br />
<br />
Re-edited new version for <a href="http://jetreidliterary.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Janet Reid</a>'s Liz Norris Pay it Forward contest. I should note here that the contest was the kick in the ass I needed to get the damn thing done. (Thank you Liz & Janet!)<br />
<br />
<u>April 22, 2012:</u><br />
<br />
I am selected as finalist #8 out of 10 in the JRLZPIF contest, and I pretty much pee myself for like a week straight. This could also be because giving birth weakened all my uterine muscles permanently and one good sneeze caused wardrobe changes.<br />
<br />
<u>April 24, 2012: </u><br />
<br />
I do not win. But the person who does gets published shortly thereafter, so I am heartened!<br />
<br />
I stagnated here for quite some time. I continued querying. Sort of. By which I mean like two or five over six months.<br />
<br />
<u>September 2012: </u><br />
<br />
I joined <a href="http://sistersincrime.org/" target="_blank">Sisters in Crime</a> after re-reading through Janet Reid's and other people's blogs where they emphasized how important it was to join your professional organizations.<br />
<br />
<u>September 2012:</u><br />
<br />
I enter a blog-Hop Query Contest called GUTGAA. I get two agent requests, and I am over the moon. Both reject it later, one for language un-befitting a primarily Christian press, and the other for reasons I don't remember right now.<br />
<br />
BUT TWO AGENTS LIKED MY QUERY. THIS MEANS IT MUST BE PERFECT NOW. I really believed that too. I am so freakin' funny.<br />
<br />
I keep querying, about five or six every few months, usually after I read a post by Janet screaming, "KEEP QUERYING. GET BACK TO WORK."<br />
<br />
<u>March 2013:</u><br />
<br />
I'm pregnant again. Really?! .... REALLY!?!?!?<br />
<br />
<u>August 2013:</u><br />
<br />
My short story is accepted into the local Sisters in Crime chapter's anthology. I am ecstatic as it will be my first publishing credit. Since I am in charge of submissions, I am also in charge of sending out acceptance letters. You're damn right I sent one to myself.<br />
<br />
My husband leaves his job. We decide to take the chance to move to Canada and see if we can pursue a better life for us there. I spend the next three months fixing up the house, getting ready to move, and purging everything we own.<br />
<br />
<u>October 2013</u>:<br />
<br />
We move to Canada. Right in time for what the Canadians describe as one of the worst winters on record.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3ebK_lBLM5jsw9VKLijANNtDQc8_ktRUSQ-59jyJXG2I_AwizWshuxj9wzx51C5PC3r2gdN_n2s1rG1O4_nbvL52SPOfOpQlubbpAfoPMp2Tj2-cgTdvCnvz6P-6Pjy5nX1nzsl-zcA/s1600/WINTER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3ebK_lBLM5jsw9VKLijANNtDQc8_ktRUSQ-59jyJXG2I_AwizWshuxj9wzx51C5PC3r2gdN_n2s1rG1O4_nbvL52SPOfOpQlubbpAfoPMp2Tj2-cgTdvCnvz6P-6Pjy5nX1nzsl-zcA/s1600/WINTER.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What the actual F%@k, Canada. That is 8-12 feet of snow.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<u>November 12, 2013</u>:<br />
<br />
My son is born. We are currently living in a friend's basement in Toronto.<br />
<br />
<u>December 2013:</u><br />
<br />
I join the Toronto Sisters in Crime, because I am convinced it is a fantastic program. I go to the joint Christmas party between the T-SinC and the Canadian Crime Writers association, and win a door prize of thirty books. Which I carry home on the subway.<br />
<br />
<u>February 2014:</u><br />
<br />
After enduring "one of the worst winters on record", we decide to move back home thanks to a job offer my husband received from from an employer he part-timed with previously and the fact our house hadn't sold yet.<br />
<br />
<u>March 2014: </u><br />
<br />
Put the house back together, celebrate the lack of snow.<br />
<br />
<u>April 2014:</u><br />
<br />
The anthology my short story was accepted for is published! WOO HOO!<br />
<br />
<u>June 2014: </u><br />
<br />
BOOK SIGNING PARTY! My very first one. Karen Pullen, the President of our local SinC Chapter encourages me to submit my novel to Five Star Mysteries. I decide what the hell, and do so, because I'm so frustrated at the fact that it takes me an hour to craft a single query letter, and I have about two spare hours a day to work on writer-stuff.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-26xqQKYP180HaPa2KuNjWDtoLumAKhFxh1Kajo4q4G4fy2mvlihfgea2XWPploxuFEF2BBp4cOioOXmu-X3_VUIDeMB6Q6YqRRCq3TotLgeD8EdzdCa3IawE1R9dzH5tYZLmo0d5tU/s1600/Anthology+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-26xqQKYP180HaPa2KuNjWDtoLumAKhFxh1Kajo4q4G4fy2mvlihfgea2XWPploxuFEF2BBp4cOioOXmu-X3_VUIDeMB6Q6YqRRCq3TotLgeD8EdzdCa3IawE1R9dzH5tYZLmo0d5tU/s1600/Anthology+image.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<u>July 7, 2014:</u> <br />
<br />
I get a reply from Five Star. They are accepting my book and I can expect to hear from a contracts manager shortly. My husband is annoyed by my lack of enthusiasm, as I have read far, far too much online about the increasingly worse contracts being offered new authors. Especially those without an agent.<br />
<br />
And to date, I do not have an agent. I start going through and cleaning up my query spreadsheet, and send an "update" email to all the agents who I had yet to hear from on my query.<br />
<br />
<u>August 5, 2014</u>:<br />
<br />
I hear from the editor who will be handling my book, and receive a sample contract! Janet Reid recently posted a blog post with resources for authors who don't have agents. I bought the book she recommended, and started going through the contract with book in hand and notepad on my knee.<br />
<br />
Why I didn't accept the contract is a whole separate post that I will never make. Business deals are like dates. What may completely turn you off may be exactly what someone else is looking for, and that someone else might be you in five years. It should not be taken as a denigration against Five Star. Their contract terms were not ones that I considered acceptable for me in the current publishing climate, but I went into the negotiations prepared to walk away if certain things were not on the table and with a contingency plan. In fairness I don't consider most of what apparently passes for customary contract terms in publishing to be acceptable.<br />
<br />
Their reply letter made it clear that they weren't interested in negotiating the points that I considered deal-breakers, so I chose to walk away. I have since wondered if perhaps I gave up too easily, but I don't have a lot of free time and I find negotiating stressful as hell, so I chose not to go through it.<br />
<br />
Side note: I do believe very strongly that if you sign a contract for a deal that you aren't happy with, you only have yourself to blame. If you sign a contract and you ARE happy with that deal? Don't let anyone else tell you differently. What's right for you is up to you to decide. I'm notoriously touchy about contracts, and I read EVERYTHING. Several times if I must.<br />
<br />
I hired a professional layout and graphic design <a href="http://www.box-a-brand.com/" target="_blank">artist</a>. She did an amazing job building a cover, custom dingbats, the internal layout and kerning, and all the good meaty stuff that makes a book a pleasure to read. She did a fabulous job and I have no hesitation in recommending her to any other writers looking into self-publishing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRggjlgVDD4e2tg-G_CCIITq-rW6z3AML7TkIdfIrqnqgicnk_Ha4BVSleHltIlmNtTaqJAT-jzVhkngqcp9mugeIHz3Yo7Xp2gjC1iXCHH-pOyZgtKUNztyHgFvBXmHlWYIFSYuI2pT8/s1600/3d-render.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRggjlgVDD4e2tg-G_CCIITq-rW6z3AML7TkIdfIrqnqgicnk_Ha4BVSleHltIlmNtTaqJAT-jzVhkngqcp9mugeIHz3Yo7Xp2gjC1iXCHH-pOyZgtKUNztyHgFvBXmHlWYIFSYuI2pT8/s1600/3d-render.jpg" height="320" width="235" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I looooooooooove this picture. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
September 2014<br />
<br />
I read business books, (Kristine Kathryn Rusch's <a href="http://astore.amazon.com/kristinekathr-20/detail/B004A156PY" target="_blank">Freelancer's Survival guide</a>? Must have.) built a business plan, opened a business account, worked with Jennifer on the layout and cover decisions, opened accounts in all the online and print vendors I chose to work with, bought a domain name.<br />
<br />
October 15, 2014<br />
<br />
I start uploading files to all the vendors. Easiest and fastest? KDP Select. Most irritating? Kobo. We had four days worth of error messages to try and repair and their customer service has a 24 hour turn around time with at least two layers of "well, keep doing what didn't work the first time." We eventually solved it ourselves. Sort of. iBooks is maddening in that you MUST be an Apple user or have access to a mac in order to download the software required to upload a book to their store. Luckily, Jennifer is an Apple user and was willing to help out.<br />
<br />
October 15, 2014<br />
<br />
My book is officially for sale on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Justice-Mercy-Mystery-Book-ebook/dp/B00OHV4WCK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1413594881&sr=8-1&keywords=Justice+%26+Mercy" target="_blank">Amazon</a> as an e-book. I don't want to announce it until a print copy is available.<br />
<br />
October 16, 2014<br />
<br />
I order proofs from Createspace. They ship the same day. (What?! Damn yo.)<br />
<br />
October 17th, 2014<br />
<br />
My book is awaiting proof approval with IngramSpark and Createspace, but is for sale on <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/justice-mercy-britni-patterson/1120559296?ean=2940150661516&itm=1&usri=2940150661516" target="_blank">Nook</a>, and <a href="http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/justice-mercy" target="_blank">Kobo</a>,<br />
<br />
October 23, 2014<br />
<br />
I ANNOUNCE. I spam, I blather, I sob, I open a bottle of champagne I forget to drink. And then I get back to work on the second book, tentatively titled A Thousand Deadly Kisses, to be released in December 2014.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-43187093794846817132014-10-17T21:56:00.002-07:002014-10-17T21:56:53.380-07:00*cough* Look to the right.... your other right..<br />
Why yes, that is a book cover. And it is linked to, *GASP* The sale of my first mystery novel available now on AMAZON.<br />
<br />
(Also available on <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/justice-mercy-britni-patterson/1120559296?ean=2940150661516&itm=1&usri=2940150661516" target="_blank">Nook</a> and <a href="http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/justice-mercy" target="_blank">Kobo</a>, iBooks is pending, the print versions are also pending the proofs hitting my hot little hands so I can roll around on them. And check for issues, but mostly the rolling thing.)<br />
<br />
This isn't the official release notice, and giant blather post with tears and blubbery platitudes. I just figured if anyone came to my blog, perhaps the first thing they shouldn't see is the previous post, cheerfully entitled, "<a href="http://brightlightsandsaturdaynights.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-day-of-pee.html" target="_blank">THE DAY OF PEE</a>."<br />
<br />
First impressions and all that. SPEAKING OF FIRST IMPRESSIONS, by the way, I also made a mailing list button. Feel free to sign up if you want to know when the next book is out. [December 2014]<br />
<br />
Now back to writing. <br />
<br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-22873218962598063302014-08-31T15:06:00.003-07:002014-08-31T15:06:49.877-07:00The Day of Pee<br />
9:00 a.m. - The three-year old, henceforth known as Bugbug wakes up screaming. Because her diaper is wet. I change her diaper, and discover that the bed is also wet.<br />
<br />
10:00 a.m. - Bugbug drinks some apple-juice. The 10-month old brother, herein known as Pickle, wakes up. Also in a puddle. I wonder if the excess humidity was somehow absorbed through their skin.<br />
<br />
11:13 a.m. - Bugbug says "Mommy, I think I'm going to have an accident!"<br />
<br />
11:14 a.m.- Mommy carefully explains the difference between "going to have" and "already had".<br />
<br />
11:15 a.m. - Mommy finishes cleaning the floor.<br />
<br />
11:48 a.m. - The Pickle loaded up in the Pickletank manages somehow to ram the training toilet that the Bugbug had just used despite it being tucked in the furthest possible corner.<br />
<br />
11:53 a.m. - The toilet, floor, and the couch are all clean again.<br />
<br />
12:23 p.m. - Pickle needs a diaper change. There is a tiny poop, of the sort that I have named the "Cork".<br />
<br />
1:03 p.m. - The Pickle needs another diaper change, of a far more voluminous sort.<br />
<br />
1:29 p.m. - BugBug gets a glass of ginger ale for going pee in the potty. She didn't quite manage to get her dress out of the way. Mommy does not discover this until after she picks up the soaking wet Bugbug who requested a hug.<br />
<br />
1:47 p.m. - Mommy and the Bugbug are out of the shower and dressed again. The floor is Swiffered. Mommy has resolved to steam-mop the floor again tomorrow.<br />
<br />
2:23 p.m. - Bugbug again informs Mommy that she thinks she's going to have an accident. Mommy, wise to the misuse of tense, checks the butt and discovers that indeed the panties are wet. Upon inquiring where she already had an accident, the Bugbug says, after some careful thought, "In Mommy's room!"<br />
<br />
3:05 p.m. - Mommy's room is now clean, and Mommy is throwing laundry in the washer.<br />
<br />
3:06 p.m. - Bugbug wanders up.<br />
<br />
"I'm not having a good peepee day, Mommy."<br />
"No, you're not," agrees Mommy. "You've had two accidents." <br />
"Three accidents." says the Bugbug, who is very good at counting.<br />
<br />
3:17 p.m. - Mommy breaks open the Mike's Hard Lemonade.<br />
<br />
4:23 p.m. - All known pee puddles have been identified and cleaned. Including the footprints going up the hallway and into the kitchen.<br />
<br />
5:02 p.m. - Mommy tries to go pee. Pickle knocks over the Bugbug's milk cup, as reported by the Bugbug at the top of her lungs. Mommy decides that it's just because the Pickle is trying to help by denying fluids to his leaky sister, and tells her to chill out and Mommy will fix it after she's done going potty.<br />
<br />
"Hang on Mommy! I'll clean it!" Mommy gets her pants back on in record time, but still not fast enough.<br />
<br />
5:03 p.m. - Bugbug tries to help clean up the milk. By taking the cloth that Mommy carelessly left within reach after the last pee puddle, and using it. On the Pickle. Mommy resolves to get another cleaning rag bucket - with a lid and a padlock.<br />
<br />
5:58 p.m. - The Pickle has been re-cleaned. The Pickletank has been re-cleaned. The floor has been re-cleaned. Mommy is out of Mike's Hard Lemonade. Luckily, Mommy still has tequila.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-89583231778844744942014-08-22T23:55:00.001-07:002014-08-22T23:59:19.277-07:00I'm Too Desperate to take a Bad Deal.<br />
I finished my novel. I read and researched. I read the entire Ms. Snark archives. I read the entire Query Shark/Janet Reid archives. Multiple times. I have read the entire Rejectionist, the Editor Anonymous, Victoria Strauss' Writer Beware, and various agent blogs around the internet. I painstakingly researched agents and shopped my novel. A couple partial requests from blog contests, and one shiny "You Don't Suck" button from Liz Norris' Pay It Forward contest, but otherwise, nothing. I joined Twitter. I am an introvert. I hate Twitter. But that's where agents and editors live, so I joined. I made Twitter friends.<br />
<br />
<br />
I joined Sisters in Crime, and made good friends. One of those friends recommended I submit my novel to a small press. I did, and they accepted it.<br />
<br />
<br />
I was elated. I got validation that someone thought my work was commercially viable!<br />
<br />
<br />
They sent me a sample contract. I also read Chuck Wendig, and John Scalzi, and I bought Mark Levine's How to Negotiate a Book Contract book. I spent four hours writing a changes requested letter.<br />
<br />
<br />
The entire time, my heart was in my throat, because I was afraid that I would offend them. But I was more afraid that they would refuse the changes I considered non-negotiable for me based on all the advice I had read. I dithered, I fretted, I cried once or twice out of sheer helplessness. I asked my friend what she did. She had accepted the contract as was because she wanted to be published. But she also has a successful career to "fall back" on if the writing doesn't pan out. I don't.<br />
<br />
<br />
While I was waiting, I stumbled across <a href="http://kriswrites.com/business-rusch-publishing-articles/#sthash.ozIy8MVS.dpbs" target="_blank">Kris Rusch's business blog</a>. I started reading, and I didn't stop. Because here for the first time that I had found on the internet was a prolific, recognized writer saying that any writer who didn't take responsibility for their writing career was asking to be screwed financially, ethically, and artistically. That even if you have an agent, you STILL need to be in charge of managing your business. You can't just go be a sheltered artist in a delicate cave of writer happiness protected by your agent. I'm sure others have said it, but this was the first time I found it.<br />
<br />
<br />
She made a painfully-accurate point about deciding whether you wanted to have a book published, or if you wanted to have a writing career. Because if all you want is a book published, then you can take whatever horrors are called a contract. But if you want to have a writing career, then you can't afford to take a bad deal. And you can't wring your hands and blame your agent or your editor or even the publisher. They have their own businesses to care for, and if you don't take care of yours, that's your fault. Not theirs.<br />
<br />
<br />
The $1000 advance glittered in my dreams. I wanted it so badly. But it came on a hook that I couldn't swallow. All of my requested changes were rejected, and with condescension and lack of sensible explanations that told me exactly where I stood with the people who were supposed to be a business partner with me. I'm too desperate to take a bad deal.<br />
<br />
<br />
For me, the deal was the wrong choice. If I took the deal, I wouldn't see the first book in my mystery series until 2016. I write fast, and I will have finished the next four books by then. They would all have to wait for the first one. And then what. They come out two years apart? I'd end up sitting on a pile of unpublished manuscripts all delicately waiting their turn, while they slowly either sold or faded away.<br />
<br />
<br />
Or I can self-publish the books myself. And the first one will be out this month. The next one will be out around Christmas if I can get my editing done by then. By the time that first book would have been published, I'll have received royalties on several books for three years.<br />
<br />
<br />
I did the math. To make more than that $1000 advance, my break-even numbers are smaller than the numbers of my Facebook friends, while maintaining all my rights, and publishing sooner so as to start ticking royalties up sooner. This is the right choice for me. I'm willing to shoulder the belief in the quality of my own work and take the risks.<br />
<br />
<br />
Two years ago, if you'd told me I'd be turning down my first book deal, I'd have laughed hysterically. Now, I only regret that I didn't start this process two years ago.<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm not afraid any more.<br />
<br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-49398631919402043462014-08-08T15:50:00.002-07:002014-08-08T15:50:50.006-07:00The Three Week Plan for Going to the Movies...<br />
Recently a friend of mine asked if I wanted to go see a movie. I stared blankly at her, and she said, "It's not that hard a question."<br />
<br />
Oh yes. Yes it is. Let me explain.<br />
<b><u><br /></u></b>
<b><u>PRE-KIDS:</u></b><br />
<br />
"Want to go to a movie?"<br />
"Sure. Let me see if Husbosaurus is working and wants to go."<br />
<br />
<b><u>POST-KIDS:</u></b><br />
<br />
Movies must be discussed by both spouses for a sufficient time to determine whether both people want to see it badly enough to make it the monthly movie date. (We go once a month because once you have kids, you have no money. We can afford it once a month.) In the event of there being two different movies both parties want to see, negotiations which may or may not include fisticuffs, whining, bribery, or sexual favors will commence. Once negotiations are concluded, usually with one person throwing up their hands and yelling, "FINE! We'll go see _____ if you want to see it so badly!", then the planning stages begin.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Planning Stage 1: (At least three weeks away from movie release date.)</b></div>
<br />
A) Pick a date. This will be the first available day that the husband is not working, and the wife is not already pre-committed to another activity. You have five available days a month for this.<br />
<br />
B) Check the date with the babysitter.<br />
<br />
C) When the first babysitter isn't available, check with the second baby sitter.<br />
<br />
In the event that both babysitters are unavailable, go back to step A. Repeat until a single day appears to be compatible with all schedules.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Planning Stage 2: (One week out from chosen date.)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
A) Check supplies of diapers, wipes, baby food, toddler kibble, butt paste, and other miscellaneous items required to keep children alive and acceptably clean for three hours.<br />
<br />
B) If supplies are low, go to store specifically to obtain said items.<br />
<br />
C) Make sure said supplies are carefully stocked in the respective changing tables / cupboards.<br />
<br />
D) Confirm again with all parties that this date is still good.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Planning Stage 3: (Three days out from chosen date.)</b></div>
<br />
A) Monitor carefully at all times for any sign of illness, up to and including the use of the phrases, "Mommy, I don't feel good." "My tummy hurts." "My toe hurts." "I want to cuddle." "Mommy, pick me up." "WAAAAAAHHHH"<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyEDoGDKdA_M1XCp-9dQ68AyrHFY_N7izNRvQ-YeqGqk3UFVHSJnXpNg9xYO-ajFVhX-7a5eF_D7a4TjhzBRTKfqtOaPUqLJm8MtFcqUn6shLNkA53TaDPShDB17L3hCXa1zNr4toKTc/s1600/20140723_191323%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyEDoGDKdA_M1XCp-9dQ68AyrHFY_N7izNRvQ-YeqGqk3UFVHSJnXpNg9xYO-ajFVhX-7a5eF_D7a4TjhzBRTKfqtOaPUqLJm8MtFcqUn6shLNkA53TaDPShDB17L3hCXa1zNr4toKTc/s1600/20140723_191323%5B1%5D.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mommy, I want to cuddle." = "I want to puke all down your back."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHRf0OJ0y9WzmlCTVQj6G_DnjLYuR3uXwsxQqHjj3vsh4wjeJmLp7KKAfozS6-uG9saRisqvS_D2xrb9AhHyCD-qyqOKhQJI6yw7-YDElfFuxQjLVo5tuJfxmRtvin1mGnpdGyL0DrKk/s1600/20140723_192220%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHRf0OJ0y9WzmlCTVQj6G_DnjLYuR3uXwsxQqHjj3vsh4wjeJmLp7KKAfozS6-uG9saRisqvS_D2xrb9AhHyCD-qyqOKhQJI6yw7-YDElfFuxQjLVo5tuJfxmRtvin1mGnpdGyL0DrKk/s1600/20140723_192220%5B1%5D.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twenty minutes later. Do not trust the sad pathetic limp thing or the happy jumping on the couch thing. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
B) If children spike a fever, start Tylenol regimen and put the babysitter on standby. If any puke, diarrhea, or major mood instability appears, cancel the movie date and go back to Stage 1. If you have a two-year old, major mood instability must meet the "purple face" criteria.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Planning Stage 4: (One day out from movie date.)</b></div>
<br />
A) Children still healthy? Good. Check that there are clean clothes available for when they inevitably blow poop up to their necks to demonstrate their colon health to the babysitter. Double check supplies of wipes, food, diapers, bottles, and toys.<br />
<br />
B) Make a milk bottle. Moo.<br />
<br />
C) Spend four hours cleaning up so the babysitter doesn't report you to Children's Services because her shoes are stuck to the floor. Clean up again after the toddler drops her bowl of cereal all over the floor you just mopped.<br />
<br />
D) Call the babysitter to double confirm they're still willing to babysit your spawn. Try not to mention the cereal incident.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Planning Stage 5: (MOVIE DAY)</b></div>
<br />
A) Screw with children's schedules to try and arrange nap time to fall during the three hour block. Succeed only in irritating children.<br />
<br />
B) Feed children so they can demonstrate Poop-Bomb for the babysitter.<br />
<br />
C) Deprive children of favorite toys so they'll play with them extra-long for the baby sitter.<br />
<br />
D) Clean again, because apparently yogurt for breakfast means "Mommy wants to see about painting the wall Blueberry-Banana. Try to smear evenly on the furniture as well so I can see if it coordinates."<br />
<br />
E) Take a shower and get dressed at the speed of light. Save thirty seconds of hot water for your spouse so they can luxuriate while you chase the baby in the tank around the house to try and change its diaper.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg069R47H_xn6AYDMwStrb4l2ZJbVSgYhlfx0UvaSMETjfEQ220k1aWXueEKPI25WBJngFYBJODY34u-WsWIViKC1u76ljKawURxidwKp9x3F4psWEy76A0uWragm9UnqhltVymrpWuY7A/s1600/20140728_150002%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="You'll never take me alive!" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg069R47H_xn6AYDMwStrb4l2ZJbVSgYhlfx0UvaSMETjfEQ220k1aWXueEKPI25WBJngFYBJODY34u-WsWIViKC1u76ljKawURxidwKp9x3F4psWEy76A0uWragm9UnqhltVymrpWuY7A/s1600/20140728_150002%5B1%5D.jpg" height="320" title="Pickle Tank!" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ramming speed! Your ankles are forfeit!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
F) Spend the last two minutes worrying that the babysitter is going to be hit by a truck on the way over.<br />
<br />
G) The babysitter arrives. Run. RUN YOU FOOL.<br />
<br />
H) Enjoy movie. Try not to twitch every time someone's phone buzzes.<br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-13775537873567939002014-07-30T21:10:00.000-07:002014-07-30T21:17:25.112-07:00Book Reading #2 - More Disaster, But! Margaret Maron!<br />
So, my poor husband is a paramedic. And he was working Saturday night AND Sunday night. Needless to say, he needed to sleep Sunday afternoon during the book signing at <a href="http://quailridgebooks.com/" target="_blank">Quail Ridge</a> Books. So my <b>FIRST PLAN</b>(tm) was to get a friend to go with me, ply her with sushi to bribe her into helping me wrangle kids while I did <i>authorly</i> things, and then go home, having let the husband sleep a full four hours in a row without any toddler or baby noise.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEwZgwMDQ35EGxjNzVST1AWyPtXRpF50lMaHccte0Mb-FHLioEQKAkvxdSd1p2Do8XEwVqiUIaKmGYgoaVDiDwwkcZ8oWX7uhyphenhyphenirFBg5I_i1D-bKWPewEK8vFDlNZYKTBQ8pzJccuxL4/s1600/Husb+spine+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEwZgwMDQ35EGxjNzVST1AWyPtXRpF50lMaHccte0Mb-FHLioEQKAkvxdSd1p2Do8XEwVqiUIaKmGYgoaVDiDwwkcZ8oWX7uhyphenhyphenirFBg5I_i1D-bKWPewEK8vFDlNZYKTBQ8pzJccuxL4/s1600/Husb+spine+pic.jpg" height="318" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">What Paramedics look like if they don't get any sleep. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The plan went swimmingly along to the point that we were halfway through a third of an ocean's worth of sushi, when my three year old daughter, (who had been uncharacteristically quiet and laying down on the bench.) sat up, and vomited. I took her to the bathroom and cleaned her up, changing her clothes, and quietly panicking. I had promised to attend the signing, and I take my commitments seriously. I was hoping that perhaps she just choked, when the second wave hit. Hope died with the forth wave.<br />
<br />
My friend and I start hashing out <b>SECOND PLAN</b>(tm) where she would take my car (because car seats), drop me and the eight-month old off at the bookstore, drive my daughter home to my soon-to-be-crushingly-disappointed-husband, then drive my car back to the bookstore (a forty minute round trip at least) to take over baby wrangling so I could use a pen without my son adding drool-marks to people's books.<br />
<br />
She is a very, very good friend. I do not deserve her.<br />
<br />
There was more vomit. (PLEASE HURRY AND BRING THE CHECK BEFORE WE ARE ALL BURIED IN VOMIT!) There was more cleaning. I left a massive tip and apologized about ninety times to the waitress. The Font of All Things Gross threw up in the foyer on the way out, in front of the owner. I insisted my friend smell me to see if I smelled like puke. She said I was fine.<br />
<br />
I am still hoping that she was correct. I put on perfume anyways. I never wear perfume, but I carry a tiny perfume roll-on. Just. In. Case. We proceeded with SECOND PLAN.<br />
<br />
I arrived at the signing, and no one got strange looks on their faces after standing next to me for a few minutes, or started sniffing. The reading went well, if not very well attended. But among the attendees were <a href="http://margaretmaron.com/" target="_blank">Margaret Maron</a> and <a href="http://mysteryheel.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Molly Weston</a>!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRXcdlGrtbpYfa5RldKnEsjZp__caxocvX_FJOnT04x-PPfZtU0KivMYOjnuZMUM22yKZ_6EYuuJ3JGqefMQJzW-1TqS65dew9plPw40LO8FR_Co_dbUkGldjuCxUKgNWd5rjoko2WQfc/s1600/Quail+Ridge+Reading+2014-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRXcdlGrtbpYfa5RldKnEsjZp__caxocvX_FJOnT04x-PPfZtU0KivMYOjnuZMUM22yKZ_6EYuuJ3JGqefMQJzW-1TqS65dew9plPw40LO8FR_Co_dbUkGldjuCxUKgNWd5rjoko2WQfc/s1600/Quail+Ridge+Reading+2014-2.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Back row, left to right: me, Joanie Conwell, <b>Margaret Maron</b>, Calvin Hall, Toni Goodyear, Linda Johnson, Marjorie Ann Mitchell. Front row, left to right: Antoinette Brown, Tamara Ward, Karen Pullen - Photo courtesy of Molly Weston</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I did my reading, enjoyed my fellow authors' readings, and then I made a beeline for Margaret Maron to ask if she would be willing to sign a book if I went and bought one very quickly. She kindly agreed, and I ran for the shelves. One of my most beloved friends is a Maron fan, so I bought the latest one and got it signed for her. :D<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQdC00JnUw03OLHwv3S6qoJnT1K9dEZIMQqO9iqdAuLbjK0_iDsXtLwnLzF9UMW04o0iNB9VyOG1q0eFCBkkO8628qDjqLwvb-sNz_7iSB1HZnPIXghITDp_iCp7Tf4QOZwTna-jBT6n8/s1600/Quail+Ridge+Reading+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQdC00JnUw03OLHwv3S6qoJnT1K9dEZIMQqO9iqdAuLbjK0_iDsXtLwnLzF9UMW04o0iNB9VyOG1q0eFCBkkO8628qDjqLwvb-sNz_7iSB1HZnPIXghITDp_iCp7Tf4QOZwTna-jBT6n8/s1600/Quail+Ridge+Reading+2014.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hey look, I'm an author! (Photo courtesy of Joanie Conwell)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I also had a chance to chat with Ms. Weston, even though I put my foot in my mouth a few times. At this point I'm surprised my accent isn't described as Pedestrian. She was very generous with both information and suggestions for a budding author, and it was a pleasure to meet her!<br />
<br />
When I got home, I found out that the baby girl had gone straight to bed, so the husband had gotten a little sleep. When she woke up, she was fine and ate three peanut-butter and honey sandwiches and three ice pops and two glasses of ginger ale. So all's well and all that jazz. WHEE BOOK SIGNING #2.<br />
<br />
Number three is coming up August 9th at <a href="http://flyleafbooks.com/" target="_blank">Flyleaf Books</a> in Chapel Hill, NC.<br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-67502002470994735372014-07-19T22:52:00.000-07:002014-07-19T22:52:33.110-07:00"I bet you have a really good camera..." and other things not to say to a professional photographer<br />
So I was asked for a head shot for advertising at an author reading upcoming at the end of July. <br />
<br />
Crap. I desperately needed a haircut, I wasn't sure where my make-up ended up, (or even the last time I wore make-up.) and there was no way that any studio was going to be someplace I could go and get a picture taken with two small children in tow.<br />
<br />
Luckily, the master stylist at the Regis Salon had an opening in her schedule, and the only downside was having to occupy the children for 45 minutes beforehand. She cut, she styled, she pretended my children were delightful. (They were fairly well-behaved, but still. An eight month old and a three year old? Not cool.)<br />
<br />
And I took a picture with my phone! (Just to record what it looked like fresh from the stylist.)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDPoU0D70G8doZ5sVL2wxJD-ayK-pjMp9pIGJJ-TdZPyHKDNzIaD6aiwVoisvWxCVzbIqpx8_u0_o19HlXHWfAUzioV2o8Fkoo050X8onC3Xv7RK-HP8dAVZUZjzZ6BzfkbpAwxUI1bs/s1600/20140717_172534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDPoU0D70G8doZ5sVL2wxJD-ayK-pjMp9pIGJJ-TdZPyHKDNzIaD6aiwVoisvWxCVzbIqpx8_u0_o19HlXHWfAUzioV2o8Fkoo050X8onC3Xv7RK-HP8dAVZUZjzZ6BzfkbpAwxUI1bs/s1600/20140717_172534.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey look, I'm a mommy sitting at the playground in the mall taking selfies! (I hate myself so much right now..)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Okay, I think we can all agree that a) I need to wear make-up, and b) I have no knowledge regarding the art of taking pictures.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Luckily, I know a VERY talented photographer named Charlotte Hayes of <a href="http://shutterbugscreations.com/" target="_blank">Shutterbug Creations</a>. If you need a head shot in the Raleigh-Durham area, call her. You will be soooo glad you did. Experienced, professional, and amazingly relaxing to be around.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We chatted about some of the rude things people say to professional photographers. </div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
<b>"I bet you have a really good camera.</b>" - Translation: Skill, experience, talent? Pfui. Just get a really expensive camera, and YOU TOO CAN BE ANSEL ADAMS. Don't say this. A good photographer can get a good shot with a dollar-store click-n-point. They're not GOING to, but they COULD.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>"Well, it's not like a real job."</b> - Translation: Why are you charging me so much money? This is a real job, with a real skill and a real talent. You know this, that's why you called the professional in the first place, remember? If you can't afford the professional photographer at their valuation, then you can't afford the professional photographer.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>"How about you come do XXXX for free? It'll be (say it with me class) GREAT EXPOSURE."</b> Translation: I don't want to pay you, but I want better pictures than my Aunt Louise can take with her phone. News flash: Photographers can not pay the rent with exposure. And Harris Teeter won't take it, even on triple coupon weekends.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
No. It is not the camera. It is the person behind the camera who knows how to position you so that the background provides the right light and shadows, which side to shoot from so the uneven features of your face somehow look normal, how to catch that second where you relax from rictus-grin into normal smile. And that is worth paying for.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I present, the PROFESSIONAL VERSION.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB1LnpItoydI4L2UJ1-tm9uZ6I3IappNc8r-clbyFXNLvaf22MflSsScD92sDU4UsKPMrp2I4v72sU_a747EDXVzXigimDBWMFTLp4k4AusL6orpiCqVix-P_fD8riqz17W6iM_M_AW2Q/s1600/Color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB1LnpItoydI4L2UJ1-tm9uZ6I3IappNc8r-clbyFXNLvaf22MflSsScD92sDU4UsKPMrp2I4v72sU_a747EDXVzXigimDBWMFTLp4k4AusL6orpiCqVix-P_fD8riqz17W6iM_M_AW2Q/s1600/Color.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey, I look NORMAL. And my lips have reappeared. No one would say, "Hey look at that poor woman, I bet she hasn't brushed her hair in two weeks." about THIS person.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />And, the other fantastic thing about Charlotte? She came to MY house, where my children could occupy themselves without damaging incredibly expensive lighting equipment, gave me advice on clothes and makeup for the photo, scouted out her shot location, and from start to finish, she only needed fifteen minutes of the minimum hour to get the perfect picture. In fact, I would have been ecstatic with any of the pictures she took.<br />
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She also cropped and centered the photo properly, cleaned the lipstick off my teeth and softened some of the frizz in Photoshop, and probably did a lot of other titchy, fiddly things that made this photo so amazingly good.<br />
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So yes. If you need professional pictures for anything, call Charlotte of <a href="http://shutterbugscreations.com/" target="_blank">Shutterbug Creations</a>.<br />
<br />
...What do I normally look like?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB40NRVS9UQIr57HCgdfnchbjzXATuWMnqr_CN2pRrKK8MRSVl6a_ly5NvNn_MPHz-y7YzG0qUcGbZ9PdsXwKIU_eXJhXc5aOtm9gUeboO-2Yz80PpNoIPaCrl2sBcS84_knrrP10I0Hg/s1600/Horrible+Ham+picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB40NRVS9UQIr57HCgdfnchbjzXATuWMnqr_CN2pRrKK8MRSVl6a_ly5NvNn_MPHz-y7YzG0qUcGbZ9PdsXwKIU_eXJhXc5aOtm9gUeboO-2Yz80PpNoIPaCrl2sBcS84_knrrP10I0Hg/s1600/Horrible+Ham+picture.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While I'm not always in armor, I usually do eat with my hands. Who has time for plates and forks?! Getting a plate is enough time for a toddler to get into the play-doh and try to fill the holes in the door knobs because "They're broken mommy!"</td></tr>
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Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-15089025533464324082014-06-11T10:19:00.001-07:002014-06-11T10:19:21.514-07:00First Publication Credit and Book Signing Party!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZ4VbYBhKMVyUeAyRT8ozoBulsLu_9YfDQ7vjjO0q5HyC87PKNXqol-v-vr8ju85jj9jW6XcIUrTfSAlVp_wFfUu5p4bab95vzt5_R56iiWYlXTMebDbmdLvYrWTb2FpxhGFZaxJPoFw/s1600/Anthology+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZ4VbYBhKMVyUeAyRT8ozoBulsLu_9YfDQ7vjjO0q5HyC87PKNXqol-v-vr8ju85jj9jW6XcIUrTfSAlVp_wFfUu5p4bab95vzt5_R56iiWYlXTMebDbmdLvYrWTb2FpxhGFZaxJPoFw/s1600/Anthology+image.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">11 of the 19 authors - I'm the second from the right in the back row, next to Polly Iyer. Photo courtesy of Robin Mizell<br /></td></tr>
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So this last Sunday was the book Launch party for <a href="http://www.wildsidebooks.com/-Carolina-Crimes-Nineteen-Tales-of-Lust-Love-And-Longing-edited-by-Karen-Pullen-trade-pb_p_11074.html" target="_blank">Carolina Crimes: 19 Tales of Lust, Love, and Longing</a>, in which my short story, <i>The Bad Son,</i> can be found on page 10. Margaret Maron wrote the introduction to the book, and selected my story to be the first one, as well as mentioning it in her introduction.<br />
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Yeah, SOOOOOOO MUCH SQUEE!<br />
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The husband had to work, but thanks to a VERY good friend, who ended up mostly watching my three year old and seven-month old for me, I was able to attend. It was a very well attended party, with over 80 people there!<br />
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Karen Pullen introduced the book, (our fabulous editor and fellow author AND President of the Sisters in Crime chapter), and the three-year old blew a pigtail and started to freak out. I was trying to put it back in place when I heard, "And our first reader is Britni Patterson!" Everyone turned around to see me fumbling with a pigtail and a deer-in-headlights look.<br />
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Luckily, I have much practice in reading aloud, since I do it every night, so I introduced myself, bounced about it being my first publication credit, and read the first page, since I wasn't sure how long it would take. (Karen had asked everyone to time their "speech/reading" for five minutes. I didn't have time to practice beforehand, so I decided to go short rather than risk it.)<br />
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Then there was a poopy diaper, so I missed the next two readings, but got back in time for the rest. It was so cool meeting everyone and putting faces to names. Afterwards there was a chaotic signing of books, with 11 authors and various readers all trying to get all 11 signatures on their books and trying to remember who was an author and who wasn't! There was also a carrot cake of much deliciousness, and a lot of food including a cheese board, smoked salmon platter, wraps, crudites, and a fruit plate. Also some Prosecco of deliciousness.<br />
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WOOO HOOO! I'm all published! Now to get the novel published...Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-26722762108791581252013-09-10T16:12:00.000-07:002013-09-10T16:12:08.139-07:00This is worth reading.<br />
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<a href="http://www.lightspeedmagazine.com/fiction/homecoming/">http://www.lightspeedmagazine.com/fiction/homecoming/</a><br />
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I love Seanan McGuire. Someday if I write something as powerful and moving as this, I will feel like I have accomplished something in this world.<br />
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B.Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-7152121273428184102013-03-01T23:51:00.000-08:002013-03-01T23:51:16.691-08:00We all need a little beauty in our lives.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So have some. Happy Saturday!<br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-38193349337179675792013-02-13T20:42:00.002-08:002013-02-13T20:42:53.440-08:00This article is awesome for writers <br />
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http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/11/20/daily-routines-writers/<br />
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I gotta tell you though. Mornings? I am not a morning person. It is going to KILL me when the bug starts school and I'm going to have to get up regularly at six to get her butt on a bus.<br />
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I am a write at night person. My daily routine looks like this.<br />
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7:00 - 8:30 - Cuddle the buggit who wakes up cranky when Daddy leaves the house.<br />
8:30 - 10:00 - Either errands or Zumba<br />
10:00 - 11:30 - Try to convince the baby to eat lunch, try to remember to eat lunch myself, start laundry.<br />
11:30 - 3:30 - Somewhere in here is babysitting time, where I watch a friend's toddler of similar age/size to my own. <br />
3:30 - 5:30 - Baby naptime. Prepping dinner / Cleaning house.<br />
5:30-6:30 - Write club on Wednesdays. More dinner prep / cleaning otherwise.<br />
6:30 - 7:30 - Weight lifting on MWF, other errands that didn't get done earlier.<br />
7:30 - 8:30 - Dinner time<br />
8:30 - 9:00 - Screw around on the internet time!<br />
9:00 - 10:00 - Baby bath and bedtime ritual.<br />
10:00 - 12:30 - WRITING TIME. Which is also emailing queries time, writing blog status time, writing other emails I hadn't finished previously, other projects like my calligraphy & illumination work, and generally anything else I want to do sans baby.<br />
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Sometimes when I get on a hot streak, writing time gets extended to 2:30. However, since the baby wakes up three or four times a night, this is a dangerous, dangerous tactic.<br />
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This too will pass though.I just have to keep telling myself that. What are your favorite writing times?Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-61606809006297903222013-02-07T21:40:00.000-08:002013-02-07T21:40:06.139-08:00New member!<br />
So I'm excited! Our writers' group, called Write Club!, may soon have a new member. When I first floated the idea of a writers' group on the classroom forum of my creative writing class, I admit I was terrified. There are so many stories of the "bad" sort of writers' groups.<br />
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<a href="http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/oct-2012-ready-the-top-10-worst-types-of-critique-partners" target="_blank">For example</a>...<br />
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<a href="http://hollylisle.com/the-good-the-bad-and-the-ugly-or-how-to-choose-a-writers-group/" target="_blank">Or this...</a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What's wrong? "<br />"The group said they hate the Oxford comma! I'm never going back!"<br />I do not blame you seal. I do not blame you.</td></tr>
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<br />And Google will give you a <a href="http://www.ebooks4writers.com/2011/03/the-6-bad-eggs-of-a-writers%E2%80%99-group/" target="_blank">thousand</a> more links to <a href="http://www.barelyok.com/7-writers-you-meet-in-bad-critique-groups.html" target="_blank">similar</a> <a href="http://justinelarbalestier.com/blog/2008/01/03/why-i-dont-like-writing-groups/" target="_blank">stories</a>. And yet, when only two people responded, I was still disappointed. But we were lucky. We met for the first time two years ago, established a set of guidelines for meetings, and have been meeting regularly ever since. <div>
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We're tiny, which helps. There are only three of us which makes it easy to act like adults, but we also have very distinct perspectives so there is no "echo chamber" effect. We talked early on about going public, but one of our members had attended several other writers' groups with the more toxic results. So we set a rule that we would go to an "invitation only" status instead of Public Russian Roulette. We wanted to maintain the quality of our group, and while there was some worry about becoming stagnant, we figured the risk wasn't worth the reward.</div>
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But at my latest meeting of the <a href="http://www.trianglesinc.com/" target="_blank">Triangle Sisters in Crime </a>chapter, there was a lady who was looking for a critique group. She was interesting, engaged, and I could smell the "serious writer" on her. She also made insightful comments during the meeting, and displayed a sense of humor, and I think she'll make a great addition, if it works for her. (She has about a 45 minute travel time one way, which is a bit much, but we'll see.)</div>
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I will also say that we have one member who meets long distance via Skype, and that works out fine for us, because we email our submissions and critiques out before the meeting, so we have all the notes and the face-to-computer discussion works well. We may have to look into some more web-conferencing stuff like Google hangouts.</div>
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Also, we are in favor of the Oxford comma and will defend it to the DEATH.</div>
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Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-57044509874037636802013-01-31T15:50:00.000-08:002013-01-31T15:50:03.901-08:00Balancing the Priorities<div>
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Daily Word count : 1,107</div>
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Total Word count on the WIP : 9,411</div>
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Sometimes I think the most difficult thing in life is setting priorities. Setting the direction you want to spend each moment of your life. Balancing all the things we want. I've figured out three things about the balance in my life.</div>
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<b>1.) I require other people to keep me accountable. </b></div>
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I tried going to the gym by myself for two years. I went sporadically, but would often skip weeks at a time. When I made a commitment to go lift weights with a friend, I manage to go, even when she doesn't, because in my brain it is marked down in permanent marker as "Go to Gym with Friend Lizardface." </div>
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(She doesn't look like a lizard. But she had a bad reaction one day to eating shellfish, and she called me to wail, "I have a face like a LIZARD. I have lizard-face!" The name has sort of stuck, but in my defense, she posted THIS picture of me to Facebook and is therefore not a good person.)</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb6VmF2ZYUYNBARVA0zmWOj2m0XNLKqrja_v2AuVVs18uzbbPVOb47XHB1wh7kiI6hspL0zQVIHH01z-cnW3p13QSCBq2JmYATOnTi2jjqBnqmXAGAI9GB3ijl-7iAOEmujCZPA-BpX9U/s1600/Horrible+Ham+picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb6VmF2ZYUYNBARVA0zmWOj2m0XNLKqrja_v2AuVVs18uzbbPVOb47XHB1wh7kiI6hspL0zQVIHH01z-cnW3p13QSCBq2JmYATOnTi2jjqBnqmXAGAI9GB3ijl-7iAOEmujCZPA-BpX9U/s320/Horrible+Ham+picture.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously? I was trying to grab some lunch before I went back out to fight, and I was starving. Who takes a picture of a friend when they look like that?! Lizardface. That's who.</td></tr>
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That is the singularly most awful picture of me ever taken. Also, I leave the hyphen out of Lizardface because she is a librarian and it makes her nuts.</div>
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I didn't get much done on my novel until I joined a writer's group. We meet weekly, and take turns submitting. So every three weeks, I have to have SOMETHING done. And sadly, it usually gets done the day or so before I'm supposed to submit. </div>
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<a href="http://www.whatupgoingon.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/funny-pictures-cat-has-writers-block.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://www.whatupgoingon.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/funny-pictures-cat-has-writers-block.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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But it gets DONE. That's the thing. The progress is slow, but there IS progress. And it's all due to other people keeping me honest.</div>
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<b>2.) I admit that I only have room to prioritize four things at once.</b></div>
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The problem with this is I have about seven things I'd LIKE to prioritize. Cleaning the house, making healthy meals and eating regularly, going to the gym, writing, armored combat, caring for the Buggit, and my calligraphy & illumination artwork. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqmqWvTOw6iXA5tQ2s7DDSECYK4X3yp6X1aNNDIPJQaMILnMwKpcVIDEPje5uLmmpTxJfg9N0YKai1WzL2yaJdy-7sn4wh4un4NXGurY8pIJVgjNdxcJ4nY_0DK7rgpITcWQL8Wkiots/s1600/Lydia+-+Death+Star.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqmqWvTOw6iXA5tQ2s7DDSECYK4X3yp6X1aNNDIPJQaMILnMwKpcVIDEPje5uLmmpTxJfg9N0YKai1WzL2yaJdy-7sn4wh4un4NXGurY8pIJVgjNdxcJ4nY_0DK7rgpITcWQL8Wkiots/s320/Lydia+-+Death+Star.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What do you mean we're out of bananas?!</td></tr>
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Three of those slots are filled at the moment with baby care, cooking food, and the gym. That means that writing fights with the other three for my time and attention. And the house does NOT get cleaned nearly enough. (Though cleaning a house with a 19 month old is sort of a Sisyphean task anyways.) It means if I wanted to focus as completely on writing as I SHOULD, that the other things that make me happy (and keep my marriage functional) would suffer. So I've had to accept that even though I <b>should be</b> spending an hour or two a day on submissions, and at least two hours a day on writing, (about the time to get 700 words on an average day.), it's not going to happen, because SOMEONE has to do the dishes, and my husband works 12 hours a day so I can stay home with the Destroyer of Worlds.</div>
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When the baby is bigger perhaps I'll have more room for priorities, but right now, that is all there is.</div>
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<b>3.) Trying to squeeze more time for extra priorities by sacrificing sleep, healthy meals, or regular exercise is <strike>REALLY STUPID</strike> counter-productive.</b></div>
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Turns out when I don't get enough sleep, my mood tanks, and I get more susceptible to fears, worries, beating myself up, depression, and other stupid stuff. The baby has had me on a regimen of sleep deprivation for the last 19 months, because she simply does NOT sleep through the night. Never has. At this point, I don't believe she ever will. Any further sacrifice of sleep is punitively painful the next day. If it happens two days in a row, I'm almost unable to function the third day. So staying up late to write until 2 a.m.? Can't happen for my own sanity. There are writers with kids who can do it, and I applaud their superhuman abilities. I can't. And I have reluctantly come to accept that.</div>
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Eating junk food? Affects my mood severely. I like cooking, and I'm an excellent cook. Sacrificing going grocery shopping and making dinner for time and Wendy's tends to send me into moody tailspins. I don't know why, but fast food with lots of grease and salt really screws with my emotional stability. Guilt over eating the fatty food? Neurotransmitter reactions? Don't know. Had to accept that too.</div>
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Not exercising. This was the newest epiphany, and it took me two years to really come around to believing, but when I make it to the gym regularly, I'm generally more productive over all for the rest of the day. Serotonin, endorphins, more neurotransmitters? Could be, but I've accepted that I get more done and am generally happier when I exercise regularly. Also, the gym has free daycare for 2 hours a day. So I get some non-baby sanity time. Also very good for me. :D</div>
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What hard lessons did you have to learn about priorities in your life?</div>
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Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-2929570865582916802013-01-24T12:08:00.000-08:002013-01-24T12:08:38.886-08:00My Day Today - Taking a Tally<br />
Zumba this morning! - YAY!<br />
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Baby does not wish to nap. - BOO!<br />
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Baby will nap, if Mommy lays down with her and tucks her into an armpit. - YAY!<br />
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Alarm on phone fails to go off, and the friend I babysit for finds me snoring and drooling on my baby when she comes by to drop off her child. - BOO!<br />
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Toddler Dance Party! (Toddlers dancing to Club music on the radio is hilarious.) - Yay!<br />
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Synchronized Toddler Poop! - BOO! And Ew. Two poopy toddlers do smell worse than one alone.<br />
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Nachos! - YAY!<br />
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Toddlers are stealing all my nachos! - BOO!<br />
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More Nachos! - YAY!<br />
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On balance, I think I'm having a pretty good day.<br />
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<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-80763944313912898992013-01-23T21:11:00.000-08:002013-01-23T21:11:46.977-08:00Your House is on FIRE! - and other things I got to say this week<br />
On my way home from Zumba a couple days ago, I passed a house with furniture burning in the carport.<br />
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My first thought? "Baaad breakup." Seriously.<br />
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But then I realized I didn't see anyone outside screaming "Take that, you asshole!" And I backed the car up to double-check.<br />
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Nope, uncontrolled fire in the carport, and licking its way towards the house. No persons with a hose trying to put it out. <br />
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So I called 911, and I gave them the address and situation, and they hung up on me! I would like to believe the call was dropped, but there were weird typing/transfer noises that indicated things were happening on the dispatch end, and then it hung up.<br />
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I called them back, and tried again. This time the dispatcher did not hang up on me, but asked questions. Where, how far from the house, blah blah. Then we both hung up.<br />
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The house seemed unoccupied (10:45 a.m. on a Tuesday), with the only car off to the side of the driveway, but I got out anyways, and went to bang on the door. I heard a little dog start barking furiously.<br />
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"Crap." I thought. I banged on the door again and yelled, "Your HOUSE is on fire!" I went back to the car, to find something to possibly break a window with, so I could let the dog out before the fire got to the house. Just as I got to my car, the homeowner poked her head out of the door, looking sleepy and confused.<br />
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I yelled, "Your house is on fire! You need to get your dog and get out!" She started to come out, and I yelled, "Call your dog!" She ducked back inside, and I could have kicked myself. Never let someone go back into a building that's on fire. Cardinal rule of fire safety. The fire was just starting to go after the carport, so I didn't immediately yell at her to come back. She came out again within the three minute mark of me going to yell at her again, with a large tabby and a little bichon frise-looking puppy the size of a chihuahua.<br />
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We put the pets into my car. Luckily, they did not seem disposed to mess with the baby in the car seat who was saying "Doggy! Doggy! Cat! Cat! Doggy!" They sat very nicely in the back seat. The dog roamed around a bit nervously, but the cat found a comfy spot, and assumed the meatloaf position with the placid acceptance of any obese cat in a situation that shows no signs of involving food, pettings, or being chased.<br />
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My husband is a paramedic with the fire station literally a half-mile away, so I was really curious to see who would show up. First on the scene was the battalion chief in the special "Chief truck!" He confirmed that I wasn't a crazy, and that the fire was real. Then he got a fire extinguisher out of the truck and ran up to the house. By this time, the carport was going up, and I wasn't sure how much good he was going to do, but I found out later that he was trying to surround the fire so it wouldn't spread.<br />
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Next was a fire truck from another station, and then my husb rolled up in his truck. He yelled at me to Go Home! (With a smile), and I yelled back "I can't! I have her pets in the car!" He paused. "With my daughter?!" "They're very nice animals!"<br />
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He checked on the homeowner while she watched the FD put out the fire, and then went to verify that I had not in fact left our child to be eaten alive by strange pets. (And to play peekaboo with the buglet.)<br />
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The homeowner's mother showed up shortly after, and we tried to transfer the animals to her car. The dog went easily, but the cat dug ALL four feet into the seat, and had to be forcibly dragged out of the car. No yowling, no biting, just a narrow-eyed determination to keep all fifteen pounds of cat planted precisely where it was.<br />
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The mom and the homeowner both thanked me, and I went home feeling proud of myself for not screwing up my role as a good neighbor.<br />
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Now I told you that story to tell you this one. I posted about it on Facebook, feeling that I had had an interesting morning. I got a deluge of "WOW YOU'RE A HERO!" I got really upset. Because what I did was not heroic. It was what you SHOULD do as a decent human being. It is what I would hope any random person would do. It is a major part of my belief system that deep down, people will do the right thing when pushed.<br />
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I complained to my husband, and he confirmed that in fact, it is NOT the common action of people calling 911 to either stick around, or bang on the door, or even to call and give the dispatcher full information. <br />
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It shouldn't be that way, I argued. It is, he replied. But it shouldn't be.<br />
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I don't care what he says. I'm going to keep my faith in humanity's better half. And I did get a reasonably good idea for a short story from the whole thing, so hey. Win, win.<br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-86203972478957775662012-10-27T21:44:00.003-07:002012-10-27T21:44:20.052-07:00Preparing for Nanowrimo<br />
Three days until Nanowrimo begins! And how best to utilize these days?<br />
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1.) I'm going to send off all the query letters waiting on my spreadsheet, so they can't distract me with "needing to be done".<br />
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2.) I'm going to work on an outline for the current WIP instead of meeting the daily word count. (You know what optimism is? Writing the second book in a detective series, before the first one finds a home. :D ) I tend to be a seat of the pants writer, and this leads to large periods of not-writing while I try to figure out where I want to go next.<br />
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3.) I am going to set a list of priorities, and figure out a rough daily schedule. If I know that I will be doing the dishes at 4 p.m., I won't get up from writing at 10:30 to go do them. Also, if I decide to go rake leaves instead of writing, I'll check the priority chart. Lawn care should not trump my writing. I'm going to write this list down and post it prominently, so I can remind myself I am in "writing time", and things try to distract my flaky brain. November is going to be my month to try and work on my writing routine and best practices.<br />
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What strategies do you have for making your writing time productive?<br />
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<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-59320061046909371902012-10-25T09:34:00.004-07:002012-10-25T09:34:51.110-07:00Happy St. Crispin's Day!<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">"If we are mark’d to die, we are enow </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">To do our country loss; and if to live, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">The fewer men, the greater share of honour. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">It yearns me not if men my garments wear; </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Such outward things dwell not in my desires. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">But if it be a sin to covet honour, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">I am the most offending soul alive. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">As one man more methinks would share from me </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more! </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">his passport shall be made, And crowns for convoy put into his purse; </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">We would not die in that man’s company </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">That fears his fellowship to die with us. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">This day is call’d the feast of Crispian. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Will stand </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">a tip-toe when this day is nam’d, </span><br />
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And rouse him at the name of Crispian. </div>
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He that shall live this day, and see old age, </div>
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Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, </div>
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And say “To-morrow is Saint Crispian.” </div>
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Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, </div>
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And say “These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.” </div>
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Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, </div>
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But he’ll remember, with advantages, What feats he did that day. </div>
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Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words-</div>
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Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-</div>
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Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.</div>
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This story shall the good man teach his son; </div>
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And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by, </div>
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From this day to the ending of the world, </div>
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But we in it shall be remembered-</div>
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We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; </div>
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For he to-day that sheds his blood with me </div>
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Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, </div>
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This day shall gentle his condition; </div>
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And gentlemen in England now-a-bed </div>
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Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here, </div>
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And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks </div>
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That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.</div>
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Come on writer-friends! We band of brothers once more into the fray of query letters and the slaughter of darlings! It is St. Crispian's Day! </div>
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Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-2850835614033234102012-10-07T23:16:00.002-07:002012-10-07T23:16:46.531-07:00The Ten Commandments of Garage Sales<br />
My mother took me with her to garage sales almost every Saturday for most of my childhood. I went mostly in self-defense. If I went, I could nix clothes that I didn't like, or make sure to snag new books I was interested in. I never realized that during that time that I was also receiving an education in the separate culture of garage sale mavens.<br />
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<b>1. Thou shalt not hold a garage sale, planning to make money.</b><br />
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If you think of a garage sale as an opportunity to make money, you'll price your second-hand schmutter too high. If there's one thing guaranteed to offend all garage sale patrons, from the casual once-a-year saunterer to the weekly devotee, it's walking into a garage sale and finding things priced too high. The purpose of a garage sale is to get everything you want to get rid of out of the house, and get other people to help you haul it off in exchange for a pittance. Not making money. If you want to make money, then work ebay and craigslist. Yes, I know it's a hella more trouble. But that's how it works.<br />
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<b>2. Open Early.</b><br />
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The weekly devotees all get up at 5 a.m. and decide which garage sales they're going to and in what order over their morning coffee. If you open at 7 a.m., you've got a better chance of them coming your sale first with all their money. By 9 a.m. all garage sales are open, and the competition is fierce.<br />
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<b>3. Advertise the Unique</b><br />
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*Every* garage sale has clothes, books, and toys. Every single one. Do not lead off your advertisement with those items. Anything unusual you have, like specific types of furniture, musical instruments and equipment, collectible items like Hummel figurines, power tools, etc. are much better to mention in your ads.<br />
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<b>4. Advertise Widely </b><br />
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Put advertisements on your local craigslist, check the local newspapers for online advertisement options (Usually free), if there's a local radio station that discusses yard sales or estate sales, put in a call. If you're in a rural area with only newspaper options, take out a cheap ad. Don't assume they'll drive by your house by accident. Put your address and the time you want to start.<br />
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<b>5. Make Directional signs that are legible from 10+ feet away.</b><br />
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Put out LARGE signs saying YARD SALE, with arrows, the date, and your address if you can fit them all in without sacrificing size. Nothing makes my mother more furious than having to stop in the middle of the road to try and squint at a sign the size of a manila envelope with tiny writing of hollow bubble letters. It's not only dangerous for traffic, but if you failed to advertise your sale, people won't know where to go, and will get frustrated and angry. Also, the Date is really important, because if they didn't see any advertisements for your sale, they may assume that the sign is old and out of date. Again, not what you want.<br />
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<b>6.</b> <b>Embrace the Haggle.</b><br />
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People will make offers. They will usually look at your price tag, and offer half to a third of what you wrote. If its not a hot item like the unique things listed above, take the offer. Chances of another buyer coming along and wanting that same pair of lime green Bermuda shorts aren't good, and you'll be left with a lot of crap all over your moral high ground.<br />
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<b>7. Set an End Time as well, to tempt the Sweepers.</b><br />
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Some professional garage salers - yes, they exist - will plan to hit large sales at the end of sale in order to try and scoop things they're interested in at ridiculously cheap prices. Telling them when the sale ends means they can plan to come hit your sale at the end. They may or may not, but setting an end time gives them the option.<br />
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<b>8. Have Change.</b><br />
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This seems fairly self-evident, but if you price anything for a dime, you'd better have nickels and dimes for the quarters you're going to get. Have plenty of ones and fives. You'll be handed twenties for something that costs a quarter, especially if you open early, and people need to break change. If you don't have change, they won't buy your stuff.<br />
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<b>9. Do not Stare at your Customers with the Beady-Eyed "Don't ya dare steal my stuff!" face.</b><br />
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This one always irritates me when I go to garage sales. If you're that protective of it, you can damn well keep it. And if you think that people can't tell that you're concerned about them swiping stuff, you are incorrect. If you need extra sugar in your coffee to smile at people, then load it up. You're getting rid of it, remember? It's worthless to you. See Rule number one.<br />
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<b>10. Hold your sale in the open, with easy access to all the items.</b><br />
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Lately I've been seeing a lot of sales being held in someone's apartment. Frankly, that creeps me right the hell out. I do not want to step inside a stranger's home. One, it's weird. Two, I feel trapped, and I may not want your crap. Also, if you hold it in your backyard, please don't make me walk through knee-high grass to a dark, badly-lit shed. Put stuff out on tables so it can be easily seen. Stuff on the ground means I have to kneel down to look at it. If I have bad knees or a bad back, I may skip the trouble.<br />
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Guess what I did last weekend! Made $80 and got lots of room in my shed/spare bedroom now!Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-80002673997027324202012-09-27T23:54:00.004-07:002012-09-27T23:54:43.409-07:00Amazing case of avoidable Waffle-foot...<br />
Waffle-foot - the condition caused by repeatedly shooting oneself in the foot.<br />
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So, I'm catching up on my blog-reading, having been crazystupidbusy the last few days with a sick daughter and husband birthday celebration.<br />
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I finally get around to reading parts 2 and 3 of the GUTGAA Agent interview.<br />
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Oh hey, there's one of the agents who requested a partial. What'd she say about pet peeves?<br />
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... Oh God. <br />
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She hates when you mention things from her agent profile in your email. And if I'd read her interview question before I send off the thingies, I'd have known that. I can't help but think she's going to read the email I sent (mentioning a mutual love of the authors she mentions in her profile), and immediately trash the query, because it's reasonable to think I'd seen her response, and then ignored her preferences.<br />
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I thought I was showing that I'd tried to do my research and was happy to find some common ground to address the letter, since I couldn't put my query letter in there.<br />
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*sigh*<br />
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Dammit. Maybe she'll just download the attachments and not read the email. Right? ...<br />
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Crapperdoodles.<br />
<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-7902521158926370342012-09-26T22:00:00.004-07:002012-09-26T22:00:33.654-07:00Keep calm and carry on...<br />
So I made it to the Agent Pitch final of the GUTGAA Agent Pitch contest! Much rejoicing! Celebrate!<br />
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Cue twitchy clicking of the link on Deana's blog every twenty minutes all day Sunday and Monday. Nothing. <br />
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Add in a relaxation pep-talk after each failed click. Determine that Tuesday I will NOT check the blog all day because I am making myself nuts, and my 15 month old does not approve of Mommy huddling over her computer instead of playing ball and Legos. I have things to do! A husband's birthday to prepare for! A baby to nurture and play with! <br />
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So I go forth to the thrift store! To the grocery store! Productivity! No desperate clicking! Ha ha! I am a real human being! I use exclamation points and everything!<br />
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And I get a text message from my husband to tell me that an agent commented! They want to see a partial!<br />
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.... I am wrist deep in raw gyoza filling. I can't stop what I'm doing to go and sit down to send off the files. I've got to finish dinner, then feed the daughter, (Because throwing her into a box of goldfish crackers is apparently considered "lazy parenting" instead of a lesson in survival skills.), then bath the daughter, then read her a book, and put her to bed. Establishing a bedtime routine for daughter is vital to my sanity, which dreams of a day when sleep deprivation is something that happens to other people.<br />
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Five hours later I finally manage to get to work on tweaking the submission materials. I've imagined every ridiculous permutation of possible outcomes, from the agent waiting impatiently, nay desperately! for my little gold brick to hit her hands so she can call me to rave over my genius, (I giggled at the thought; I couldn't even imagine it properly.) to the agent calling me after receipt to say, "Wow, you really put a shine on that godawful P.O.S. in your query letter. Not interested, and I'm letting every other agent on Twitter know that you're out there so no one else suffers the way I have! Good luck on Amazon self-publishing!" (Strangely, that one was much easier to imagine. Thank you so damn much for the support, brain.)<br />
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Having a daughter has done the one thing that I thought was impossible. I've learned to be patient. I sent it off, updated my submissions spreadsheet, set a note to check back in six weeks, and then, I went to bed. This doesn't seem like a big deal, but for someone with OCD tendencies, it was huge. I didn't stay up all night, letting my brain froth itself into a frenzy.<br />
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I didn't sit there and check my email thirty seven times, write rhapsodic posts on facebook and my blog about how I'd FINALLY DONE IT, or call my mother at midnight, or any of the crazypants behavior I would have indulged in pre-daughter.<br />
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Of all the things I expected to happen in my life by having a child, I did not see that one coming. Hormones are weird.<br />
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<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920460402768745425.post-16147653269439131132012-09-18T22:57:00.001-07:002012-09-18T22:57:51.813-07:00If you have power, give joy<br />
About six or so years ago, I won a competition to become the Royal Scrivener within the Kingdom of Atlantia in the SCA. There were only two people competing at the time, and you get to hold the position for a year. The idea is that you support the arts of calligraphy and illumination by sponsoring competitions, and generally being a visible artist-of-the-year. It comes with no prizes, and no "rank" or extra privilege. Or so I thought.<br />
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While I was Royal Scrivener, I made a point of seeking out artists who entered my competitions and telling them how much I liked their work, or giving advice if I could be helpful.<br />
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One day, I held a competition, and there was a stunning entry. The calligraphy was better than mine, (and my calligraphy is DAMN good), and the illumination was phenomenally better than mine. I made a point of hunting the lady down, (after I had chewed my jealous bone a bit in private), to tell her how amazing I found her work.<br />
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This lady is a better artist technically than I will EVER be. Think I'm being modest? Go <a href="http://aneira.org/scrolls.html" target="_blank">look</a>. Yeah. She makes my work look like the amateur efforts that they are, and always will.<br />
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I literally had NOTHING I could offer her in terms of advice, suggestions, or helpful improvements. In fact, I wanted to sit her down and ask for lessons. But I went and gave her my admiration and encouragement anyways.<br />
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She told me five years later that she was so grateful and humbled to have the ROYAL SCRIVENER come and talk to her about her work that she was giddy over it for days. That it had meant the world to her that I had come to tell her IN PERSON how amazing her work is.<br />
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That was a major lesson to me on perspective. I felt like my input to her was valueless. To her, it was priceless. She was new to the SCA, and still trying to feel out her place. She didn't know many people. To her, I was one of the established, a Kingdom Notable, someone who was in a position to "know". She's learned better since then, but we're now good friends, and she recently made me one of my most prized possessions, a handbound book that is shaped like a heart when you open it.<br />
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I recently entered the <a href="http://deanabarnhart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">GUTGAA</a> Agent Pitch contest, and I saw one of the judges worrying on her blog that all she had to give was her subjective opinion, and she didn't want to crush the dreams of others. I wanted to hug her and pet her nose and tell her that she wasn't crushing dreams in absentia, she was giving joy.<br />
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In my category of 43 entries, 19 received at least one "vote" from a judge. Almost half of the entries did the happy dance of joy! The rest all got professional comments, good advice, and encouragement! There is no losing here!<br />
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If you're in a position of authority, you have the opportunity to be someone's moment of joy. Don't waste them! It's the most precious of gifts, and the true reward of working hard to get where you are.<br />
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<br />Britni Pattersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06365039655461967795noreply@blogger.com2