In Which I Talk Like a Truckdriver (sort of ) about Added and Deleted Pools and Neglected Blog Posts

in my pool...

I refuse to look at the last time I blogged... it's not pretty.

I know I tossed a Friday Feedback about how to not write query letters up here completely pointlessly  not too long ago, but how did it get to be the end of October?

Forgive me. Life's been busy.

There's the boy we sent off to college.

this is me with said boy this weekend during Parents Weekend.

And the furry, 8-week old child we got for our other boy to replace help mask the daily loss of his brother in our household.

this is him. He's 16 weeks now. His name is Charlie.
He's a fucktonne of work, but we like him.

There's been the effort to soak in the last open water swims before the water freezes my metaphorical balls off turns way too cold...

Me last week, with my dear friend and "Polar Pod"
cohort, Annmarie.

and the effort to find a new yoga/Pilates studio, even though I effing hate struggle through yoga these days, because I know, just know, it is good for me and I should.

There's, of course, still my part-time "lawyer" work, plus the constant effort to just freaking finish it would you?!?! write a "right" next book that my editor might fricking-for-the-love-of-God-please-just-take love, now that THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO is on the verge of release.

Purdy, right?

(In case you haven't seen it starting to pop up around the web, there it is... well, in the Advance Review softcover version... the actual March release will be in hardcover. Btw, it's getting some Holy-balls! Amazing awesome early reviews. If you want to check them out, you can find them HERE. Also, my uber wonderful new publisher, Algonquin Young Readers, is looking for blogger and reviewer readers to provide feedback on the four of five Spring 2014 AYR books that are now up on NetGalley.

THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO is there by request.

Also, while you're here and in case you haven't, "like" the AYR facebook page and follow them on twitter!)

Anyway, that's some of what's going on... there's my other son's basketball and social life to work around, my husband's singing to listen to and support, and, and, and, and well, yeah, I'm just rattling off lame excuses.

Anyway, last night, after missing several days of open water swimming, I took my first plunge of the season back into the stupid effing  indoor pool. 

I was dreading it, but then ended up loving it. I'll grow bored with it soon enough, and pine for the open water (which I will still manage at least a few more ball-curdling swims in), but last night it was peaceful and soothing and, yet somehow, also invigorating.

As most of you know who follow me here, I do my best writing IN THE WATER. The trick being to remember what I wrote in my head while swimming, and make it translate as brilliantly when I ultimately make it back to dry land. Something that rarely happens.

Anyway, while I was swimming, I was thinking of all the story line fixes, character enhancements, and other writing keys that have come to me while swimming. The original germ of the idea for THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO came to me in the pool, and most my manuscripts have some element of story that revolves around the water.

Not a drop of water in THE PULL OF GRAVITY
but there almost was... ? 

BUT, THE PULL OF GRAVITY is different. It's my land book -- maybe partly because I wrote it back when I had just started to swim obsessively again. While swimming last night, I suddenly remembered that after the book sold, I decided to try to sneak a water scene in. Luckily, I thought better of it, and deleted it before I turned revisions in to my editor. But I decided to see if I could find it, dig it out and humiliate myself. So, here it is. This is in the hotel in Rochester after Jaycee has fallen deep into the fever. :) 

She falls back to sleep, and I pace the room, trying to come up with something useful, some sort of idea or plan. Then I think about what Jaycee said, about how useless plans usually are.  It makes me laugh to think of it.  I mean, look how right she was. I am pacing like this when Jaycee suddenly jumps up and starts to put on her shoes.

“Hey, where you going?” I call. She looks past me, walks with ghost eyes in a hurry. I know the look. It’s the look that will lead you to a water tower.

“I’m going to find him,” she says. “Before Scooter dies.”

It kills me. It makes me want to cry.

“It’s not time yet, Jaycee.” I put my hands on her shoulders and shake her a little. I can tell she’s cooled down some, that there’s been at least a little break in her fever. This alone sometimes sets off the hallucinations.

I shake her some more, but she’s caught in the delirium of it, yanks away from me and pulls her Converse on, tripping and stuff, as she heads out the hotel room door.

I race after her. At first I’m just worried, but then, honestly, I’m a little curious. Besides, I’m watching her, so I won’t let her get into too much trouble.

She takes the stairwell, two at a time, toward the lobby, and heads out. She blows past the closed gift shop and concierge desk which is still empty at this early hour, then turns and heads back through the lobby toward the exercise room and the pool. She yanks the door to the pool open and walks in. I run after her.

There’s a lifeguard behind a counter sorting and stacking a huge pile of white towels into a bin. He glances up and says, “Morning, early swim?” but you can tell he’s too tired and doesn’t really care.

“Yeah,” I call, picking up my pace because I’m pretty sure she’s going to jump in.

At the edge of the pool, she stops though, takes off her sneakers, and starts to wade down the steps of the shallow end. The water seeps up the bottom of her Marshall J. Freeman sweats, darkening the green to black as she makes her way down each step.

“Jaycee!” I yell. Then louder, “Jaycee!”

At the same time, the lifeguard dude sees and rushes over. “Hey, kid, you can’t go in there in your clothes!”

Jaycee must hear the strange voice or something, stops and turns, looks at me, then him, then me again. And then it registers, I can see it, her eyes scanning, finally taking the reality in.

See? It once existed but never saw the light of day. I promise you, it's not in there. 

Smart move deleting, right? 

Now if only I'd deleted this post.

xoxo gae

Where does your creativity flow?

Today, my pool opens for the spring. It's early in NY, but the pool guy tells me I'm not the first one. It will take another few days for a salt-ozoneator specialist to come and fix and piece of equipment that broke last season, and a few days after that for the water to heat up to "warm enough" to possibly swim. I do own a wetsuit, so technically, at 65 degrees, I'm set to go in. Suffice it to say, by this time next week, I should be afloat in my own backyard.


Those who know me, know I swim all year. There's just something about the water for me. On bad days, you could say it saves me. And, on good days, it energizes me and helps my creativity to flow. The many times I've been stuck on story or plot, the "unstuck" came to me underwater. I count on it, knowing that, as long as I get in the water, everything will be okay.

Where do you count on? Where does your creativity flow?

Repeat Imagery

As I work on my 4th or 5th manuscript (maybe 6th or 7th, depending), it always amuses me to see the "repeats" of imagery that find their way into my stories. You know, those certain fascinating objects or images that suddenly pop up in our scenes without us knowing how, exactly, they found their way in.

I have a few favorites, and I must say, to this day, I am never tired of them when they find appear in my books: pools and water, of course, being the obvious to those who know me, but less obviously, tunafish and mayonnaise... 

...kitchen tables (interesting side note, I do not own, nor have I ever owned a kitchen table, nor lived in a house where there was a traditional kitchen table), and today's blog-triggering image, those little brightly-colored paper umbrellas you used to get in your drinks at chinese restaurants.

God, I love those. Welcome little paper umbrella. :)





So, i'm curious: what objects/imagery finds itself repeatedly into your character's lives and stories?