Hi Everyone!
Hope all is well with all of you. As for me, I'm a little lacking in sleep lately and it's all Maria's fault. Ever since she graduated from high school, she's determined to have as much fun as possible. It seems that given money, freedom, good friends and endless amounts of energy, there's no stopping some people.
Yesterday was the end of a ten-day run for Summerfest. My daughter has been several times, all of them in the evening. The good news is that she and her friends park their cars in the Freeway Flyer lot and take the bus round trip, so I don't have to worry about them driving the thirty miles to downtown Milwaukee. The bad news is that the last bus leaves very late and since Maria loves to eke out every last minute of fun out of an evening, that's the bus she takes. Last night Greg went to bed and I waited up for her. The phone call I got just prior to midnight was pretty typical.
Maria (sounds of random drunk people whooping it up in the background): We're on the bus now. I just wanted to let you know.
Me: So you'll be home in like half an hour or so?
Maria: Well, actually we want to go to Denny's to get something to eat.
Me (long pause): Maria, you're killing me here.
Maria (laughing): It's the last night.
Me (resigned): Okay.
Maria: Thanks Mom. I love you.
I did go to bed then, but didn't go to sleep until I heard her come in. Lately she and her friends are making late night trips to Denny's A LOT. I know it's not the food. She says it's the only place that's open, but I wonder if maybe there's some hot guy working the late shift. I'll never know, of course because I can't stay up late enough to check it out.
Okay, off topic here, but I want to share a recent anecdote as told to me by my older son, Charlie. Apparently a guy he works with is considering (along with his wife) adopting a baby. This guy was fascinated to learn that Charlie was adopted and in the course of conversation said, "So your parents--do they love you?"
And Charlie answered, "I guess so. They say they do."
They say they do. As if there's no actual way to verify it. This response cracked me up. I told him, "Charlie, you have to know that we really, really love you."
He said, "Yeah, I know."
And I added, "Because there's no way you'd have lived through your high school years otherwise."
He laughed, so I guess those difficult times are officially behind us. And you know what that means? Time to get ready for different difficult times.
Later!
Karen
Monday, July 6, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Of Fairies and Magic and Broken Limbs
It's a good thing I took a photo of my fairy figurine (shown in my last blog entry) while she was still intact. Since then, I've managed to break off both of her arms and I'm just sick about it. I'm not exactly sure how the first arm came apart. There wasn't any big dramatic "incident." It just fell off. I guess she wasn't meant to be posed in tree branches and then accidentally dropped onto the ground.
The second arm came off as I was attempting to Super Glue the first one. As it turned out, the glue was old and dried up, so that attempt failed. Now she's on a shelf, armless, a sort of Venus de Milo with wings. Maybe magic will restore her limbs. I just need to have faith.
Since I finished revising my middle grade fairy book, I've had the most interesting reactions from people. There were the two who mocked it (my tall sons--they'll be sorry!), but every female I've mentioned it to, old and young, found the idea intriguing and several had their own fairy stories to share. Some said they'd been believers as children, leaving note for fairies in tree trunks or searching for them in the woods. Others used to play pretend games involving fairies, or wore wings and imagined they themselves were the fairies.
My daughter Maria once picked the petals off every tulip in our front yard looking for Thumbelina (not a fairy, but close). She was three at the time. She loves it when I share that story, so be sure to mention it to her the next time you see her. Also, tell her that her mother loves her.
But back to my original point, which is that kids are open to possibilites. They want to believe in creatures smaller than they are, and if they're magical, all the better. And who's to say these things don't exist? Certainly not me.
When I told my friend Michelle I'd written a novel about a little girl who sees fairies in the woods behind her house, she told me that her nine-year-old daughter, my goddaughter, Josie, LOVES fairy books. Immediately I thought--oh no, the market is saturated with fairy books. No one will want to read mine. Then Michelle gave me the titles of the books Josie had read and it turned out to be a Disney series, charming but very different from what I'd written. What a relief.
In the meantime, my sister Kay left this comment on an earlier blog entry: Did you know that Waldorf education encourages the whole fairy thing? Fairy wings, fairy houses, leaving notes for fairies -- it's a very popular thing in the natural parenting crowd.
I had no idea. Turns out that not only are fairies popular with the natural parenting crowd, they're popular period. Another friend told me about an upcoming Fairy Festival in the area, which led to a search with Mr. Google. He informed me there are Fairy/Faerie Festivals all over the country. Some of the sites had photos of little girls with fairy wings, doing adorable things like waving magic wands or blowing bubbles. I'm going to a festival in August to experience it for myself.
I have a vested interest in fairy popularity, of course, but even if I didn't, I'd find this new trend charming. I believe we should let kids be kids as long as possible. The world will still be there waiting when they are through. And maybe, if we encourage their imaginations when they're small, they'll take that sense of wonder with them into adulthood. The world would be a better place because of it.
Have a good day, and stay open to the possibilities!
The second arm came off as I was attempting to Super Glue the first one. As it turned out, the glue was old and dried up, so that attempt failed. Now she's on a shelf, armless, a sort of Venus de Milo with wings. Maybe magic will restore her limbs. I just need to have faith.
Since I finished revising my middle grade fairy book, I've had the most interesting reactions from people. There were the two who mocked it (my tall sons--they'll be sorry!), but every female I've mentioned it to, old and young, found the idea intriguing and several had their own fairy stories to share. Some said they'd been believers as children, leaving note for fairies in tree trunks or searching for them in the woods. Others used to play pretend games involving fairies, or wore wings and imagined they themselves were the fairies.
My daughter Maria once picked the petals off every tulip in our front yard looking for Thumbelina (not a fairy, but close). She was three at the time. She loves it when I share that story, so be sure to mention it to her the next time you see her. Also, tell her that her mother loves her.
But back to my original point, which is that kids are open to possibilites. They want to believe in creatures smaller than they are, and if they're magical, all the better. And who's to say these things don't exist? Certainly not me.
When I told my friend Michelle I'd written a novel about a little girl who sees fairies in the woods behind her house, she told me that her nine-year-old daughter, my goddaughter, Josie, LOVES fairy books. Immediately I thought--oh no, the market is saturated with fairy books. No one will want to read mine. Then Michelle gave me the titles of the books Josie had read and it turned out to be a Disney series, charming but very different from what I'd written. What a relief.
In the meantime, my sister Kay left this comment on an earlier blog entry: Did you know that Waldorf education encourages the whole fairy thing? Fairy wings, fairy houses, leaving notes for fairies -- it's a very popular thing in the natural parenting crowd.
I had no idea. Turns out that not only are fairies popular with the natural parenting crowd, they're popular period. Another friend told me about an upcoming Fairy Festival in the area, which led to a search with Mr. Google. He informed me there are Fairy/Faerie Festivals all over the country. Some of the sites had photos of little girls with fairy wings, doing adorable things like waving magic wands or blowing bubbles. I'm going to a festival in August to experience it for myself.
I have a vested interest in fairy popularity, of course, but even if I didn't, I'd find this new trend charming. I believe we should let kids be kids as long as possible. The world will still be there waiting when they are through. And maybe, if we encourage their imaginations when they're small, they'll take that sense of wonder with them into adulthood. The world would be a better place because of it.
Have a good day, and stay open to the possibilities!
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Mira
Below is one of the characters in my novel--Mira, a fairy girl. She came down on a bubble one recent afternoon and landed in the tree in front of my house. I grabbed my camera and got a quick photo before she flew off again.
Okay, it's really just a figurine I ordered off Amazon. But isn't she pretty?
Okay, it's really just a figurine I ordered off Amazon. But isn't she pretty?
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Celia and the Fairies
Hey there~
Hope all is well with you!
In writing news, I recently completed a manuscript geared toward middle grade readers, a category for kids ages 8 to 12. When my sister Kay and I recently talked about the books we read and loved as kids (Charlotte's Web, The Borrowers, Five Little Peppers, The Secret Language, the Edward Eager books),we discovered that most of them would be considered middle grade by today's standards.
I've written other books (none of which have seen print yet), but I'm more enthused about this book than anything I've written before. I loved writing it and I mean LOVED writing it. Most days I couldn't wait to get back to the pages to see where the story led me. It's just the kind of book I would have devoured as a nine-year-old. I really hope an editor agrees because I'd be very proud to see this in print. Also, I have more ideas, so although it works as a stand-alone title, it could very well be a series.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is the beginning--
Celia Lovejoy knew everything that went on in her house. Everything important anyway, because every evening she snuck out of bed and spied on her parents from the top of the stairs.So when her mother and father called her into the living room for a big announcement, she already knew what they were going to say.
They motioned for her to sit down and then her mother began. “As you know, Celia, Grammy has been living with Aunt Joanne since you were a baby.”
Dad leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Just recently Aunt Joanne accepted a new job overseas. She’ll be selling her condo and moving to France.”
“So it’s been decided,” Mom said, “that Grammy will come to live with us.”
Later in the conversation, Celia receives a warning.
“We’ll be relying on you to help Grammy,” her father said. “This will be a difficult change for her. She’ll need help finding things around the house, especially in the kitchen. And one more thing.” He stopped to look at her mother, who nodded in agreement. “Your grandmother might tell you stories about magical things in the woods behind our house. It was a story she used to tell me when I was a child, just a made-up story. Lately, for some reason, she’s been insisting it’s true."
“Luckily,” her mother added, “you’re old enough to know there is no such thing as magic. Be kind and agree with her, but remember what we’ve said. We’ll need to watch out for Grammy. Your father and I know we can count on you to help.”
“What kind of magical things?” Celia asked.
Her father waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just a lot of nonsense.”
But of course it wasn't nonsense. After Grammy tells stories of long-ago encounters with the fairies, Celia gets a visit from a fairy girl named Mira asking for her help. It seems that the ruthless Vicky McClutchy, a childhood rival of Celia's father, holds a grudge and is intent on revenge. With the help of fairy magic, Celia must summon her courage and use her wits if she's to thwart Vicky's plot to destroy her house and the woodland home of Mira and her clan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's the gist of it. So far, the title is Celia and the Fairies. Not the best, I know, but I'm open to change. The manuscript is going out into the world this week and I have my fingers crossed. Here's hoping. :)
Live long and prosper (just recently saw the Star Trek movie)!
Karen
P.S. I told a writer friend the premise of this book, and she said wistfully, "I used to leave notes for the fairies." How adorable is that?
Hope all is well with you!
In writing news, I recently completed a manuscript geared toward middle grade readers, a category for kids ages 8 to 12. When my sister Kay and I recently talked about the books we read and loved as kids (Charlotte's Web, The Borrowers, Five Little Peppers, The Secret Language, the Edward Eager books),we discovered that most of them would be considered middle grade by today's standards.
I've written other books (none of which have seen print yet), but I'm more enthused about this book than anything I've written before. I loved writing it and I mean LOVED writing it. Most days I couldn't wait to get back to the pages to see where the story led me. It's just the kind of book I would have devoured as a nine-year-old. I really hope an editor agrees because I'd be very proud to see this in print. Also, I have more ideas, so although it works as a stand-alone title, it could very well be a series.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is the beginning--
Celia Lovejoy knew everything that went on in her house. Everything important anyway, because every evening she snuck out of bed and spied on her parents from the top of the stairs.So when her mother and father called her into the living room for a big announcement, she already knew what they were going to say.
They motioned for her to sit down and then her mother began. “As you know, Celia, Grammy has been living with Aunt Joanne since you were a baby.”
Dad leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Just recently Aunt Joanne accepted a new job overseas. She’ll be selling her condo and moving to France.”
“So it’s been decided,” Mom said, “that Grammy will come to live with us.”
Later in the conversation, Celia receives a warning.
“We’ll be relying on you to help Grammy,” her father said. “This will be a difficult change for her. She’ll need help finding things around the house, especially in the kitchen. And one more thing.” He stopped to look at her mother, who nodded in agreement. “Your grandmother might tell you stories about magical things in the woods behind our house. It was a story she used to tell me when I was a child, just a made-up story. Lately, for some reason, she’s been insisting it’s true."
“Luckily,” her mother added, “you’re old enough to know there is no such thing as magic. Be kind and agree with her, but remember what we’ve said. We’ll need to watch out for Grammy. Your father and I know we can count on you to help.”
“What kind of magical things?” Celia asked.
Her father waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just a lot of nonsense.”
But of course it wasn't nonsense. After Grammy tells stories of long-ago encounters with the fairies, Celia gets a visit from a fairy girl named Mira asking for her help. It seems that the ruthless Vicky McClutchy, a childhood rival of Celia's father, holds a grudge and is intent on revenge. With the help of fairy magic, Celia must summon her courage and use her wits if she's to thwart Vicky's plot to destroy her house and the woodland home of Mira and her clan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's the gist of it. So far, the title is Celia and the Fairies. Not the best, I know, but I'm open to change. The manuscript is going out into the world this week and I have my fingers crossed. Here's hoping. :)
Live long and prosper (just recently saw the Star Trek movie)!
Karen
P.S. I told a writer friend the premise of this book, and she said wistfully, "I used to leave notes for the fairies." How adorable is that?
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Graduation station--all aboard!
Hello Everyone!
News in the McQuestion household: one child is graduating from high school and another is graduating from middle school. You know what this means, don't you? Complete disaster. Yes, my daughter is leaving me and the last one is entering high school. Ludicrous, really, because everyone knows babies can't go to high school. And the youngest one is always the baby even if they're now six feet tall, at least that's my take on it. Sorry Jack.
As for Maria, my soon-to-be high school graduate, I'm a little concerned about sending her out into the world. First off, we were just starting to have fun around here. Who's going to laugh at my stupid jokes when she's gone? Who will watch Ghost Hunters with me? Who will introduce me to new music? No one, she thought bitterly.
In this new world, where a person could live at home with their mom and dad and take university courses online, why would someone choose to live in the dorms? It's puzzling.
Maria is not tall--she's a smidge under five feet, and as Jack said, she seems too little to go off to college. He suggested she go to a university in Japan where the students will be her size. Not a bad idea. If only Japan were an hour's drive from our house, I'd think it would work. Except--wait, the language might be a problem. And the customs are different with the whole not making eye contact thing etc. Never mind, this might not work after all.
Lately Maria has been quite the subject of conversation around our house. Because she holds the coveted only-daughter position, both her brothers are convinced she's the favorite. The other day I bought a box of assorted doughnuts and Charlie ate the one Maria had wanted. She, of course, was not pleased and told him so. I heard him say, "Maria, get over it. I'm not Mom and Dad where you can give me the sad eyes and I'll jump in the car and go buy you another doughnut. Not happening."
When I told my husband Greg about this exchange he said, "But if she gives you the sad eyes, how can you refuse?"
Jack and Charlie have bonded over this whole Maria favoritism issue. Conveniently, they've forgotten all the many times we've done nice things for them. Instead, they choose to dwell on the millions of dollars and bazillion favors we've bestowed on their sister. What they don't understand it that we have no choice, of course. She's got the sad eyes thing going for her. Can world domination be far behind?
I think she's going to be okay next year, although I'll still worry. That's what I do best.
Later,
Karen
News in the McQuestion household: one child is graduating from high school and another is graduating from middle school. You know what this means, don't you? Complete disaster. Yes, my daughter is leaving me and the last one is entering high school. Ludicrous, really, because everyone knows babies can't go to high school. And the youngest one is always the baby even if they're now six feet tall, at least that's my take on it. Sorry Jack.
As for Maria, my soon-to-be high school graduate, I'm a little concerned about sending her out into the world. First off, we were just starting to have fun around here. Who's going to laugh at my stupid jokes when she's gone? Who will watch Ghost Hunters with me? Who will introduce me to new music? No one, she thought bitterly.
In this new world, where a person could live at home with their mom and dad and take university courses online, why would someone choose to live in the dorms? It's puzzling.
Maria is not tall--she's a smidge under five feet, and as Jack said, she seems too little to go off to college. He suggested she go to a university in Japan where the students will be her size. Not a bad idea. If only Japan were an hour's drive from our house, I'd think it would work. Except--wait, the language might be a problem. And the customs are different with the whole not making eye contact thing etc. Never mind, this might not work after all.
Lately Maria has been quite the subject of conversation around our house. Because she holds the coveted only-daughter position, both her brothers are convinced she's the favorite. The other day I bought a box of assorted doughnuts and Charlie ate the one Maria had wanted. She, of course, was not pleased and told him so. I heard him say, "Maria, get over it. I'm not Mom and Dad where you can give me the sad eyes and I'll jump in the car and go buy you another doughnut. Not happening."
When I told my husband Greg about this exchange he said, "But if she gives you the sad eyes, how can you refuse?"
Jack and Charlie have bonded over this whole Maria favoritism issue. Conveniently, they've forgotten all the many times we've done nice things for them. Instead, they choose to dwell on the millions of dollars and bazillion favors we've bestowed on their sister. What they don't understand it that we have no choice, of course. She's got the sad eyes thing going for her. Can world domination be far behind?
I think she's going to be okay next year, although I'll still worry. That's what I do best.
Later,
Karen
Monday, April 20, 2009
Middle School Woes
My younger son (age 14) KILLS me. He has this dry wit and deadpan delivery that I find extremely funny.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Grandma (my Mom): So Jack, how was your spring break?
Jack: Depressingly short
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is not enjoying middle school. I've been telling him that high school next year will be better.
Jack: What if it's not better?
Me: If you really hate it you can work from home. They have this new high school option online--IQ Academy.
Jack: So I'll be one of those loser shut-ins who avoids society?
Me: Yes
Jack: Okay
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And sometimes his older brother gets in the act:
Me to Jack: If you scored in the 98th percentile nation-wide in Social Studies, why are you only getting a "C" in the class?
Jack: The teacher hates me.
Me (dubiously): Oh, Jack...
Charlie (yelling from the next room): Who do you have?
Jack tells him the teacher's name.
Charlie: Jack is right, she does hates him. She hates everyone who's not in Student Council. She's evil.
Jack: See, I told you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Grandma (my Mom): So Jack, how was your spring break?
Jack: Depressingly short
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is not enjoying middle school. I've been telling him that high school next year will be better.
Jack: What if it's not better?
Me: If you really hate it you can work from home. They have this new high school option online--IQ Academy.
Jack: So I'll be one of those loser shut-ins who avoids society?
Me: Yes
Jack: Okay
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And sometimes his older brother gets in the act:
Me to Jack: If you scored in the 98th percentile nation-wide in Social Studies, why are you only getting a "C" in the class?
Jack: The teacher hates me.
Me (dubiously): Oh, Jack...
Charlie (yelling from the next room): Who do you have?
Jack tells him the teacher's name.
Charlie: Jack is right, she does hates him. She hates everyone who's not in Student Council. She's evil.
Jack: See, I told you.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Evergreen Green No More
I have a dead tree in my yard. Here it is, halfway between my mom's house, on the right, and my own.
Poor tree. We got it as a baby eleven years ago, a freebie from a local garden center, which was hoping we'd shop there for all our landscaping needs. Sadly for them, we took our free tree and left, not having spent a dime.
Maybe our cheapness is what doomed the tree from the start. For the first ten years, though, it seemed to be doing fine. A little scraggly maybe, never a really good-looking evergreen, but dark green and growing consistently nonetheless.
In the past year, the evergreen took a turn for the worse, seemingly overnight. When I commented that our tree died, my mom said, "I've always hated that tree."
What? Who hates a tree? Sure, it wasn't aesthetically pleasing, but all it ever did was provide a little shade and release oxygen into the environment. Really, it was good tree. It never lied, or cheated or stole from anyone. Compared to most people I know, the tree was a saint.
Mom said she didn't have anything to do with the tree's death. I believe her.
Anyway, one day my sister Kay and her son, Henry, age 3, came to visit my mom and I was there as well. Our talk turned to the tree, which we could see from the window.
Henry took a sudden interest in the conversation. He wanted to know what was going on with the tree and I explained that since it was dead, Uncle Greg would have to cut it down. Henry looked stricken. He put his face close to mine and said, "Sometimes things look dead in the wintertime, but then when the weather gets warm they get green again."
Clearly, his mother had explained about winter dormancy, the way you can when you have one child. By the time I got to my third kid, my answer to all the "why" questions was "because that's how it works." I guess this explains why even now my kids think I'm pretty clueless. Meanwhile, Greg has genius status is our house.
Henry's mom told him that this was an evergreen and that it was supposed to stay green year round, and since it wasn't, it was no longer alive. He wasn't convinced and told me again that I needed to wait. His tone conveyed the kind of urgency you'd see in someone trying to get a death row pardon. I promised him we'd wait, a safe bet since we weren't planning to do much with the tree for a few weeks anyhow.
One week later, during a similar visit, Henry said, "Did you talk to Greg?"
I'd completely forgotten our conversation, but it was still on his mind. If anything, the tree looked more dead than it had the week before, but he looked so earnest that I told him I had talked to Greg and we agreed to leave the tree alone for the time being.
So now I'm praying for the tree to miraculously come back to life.
I'll keep you posted.
Poor tree. We got it as a baby eleven years ago, a freebie from a local garden center, which was hoping we'd shop there for all our landscaping needs. Sadly for them, we took our free tree and left, not having spent a dime.Maybe our cheapness is what doomed the tree from the start. For the first ten years, though, it seemed to be doing fine. A little scraggly maybe, never a really good-looking evergreen, but dark green and growing consistently nonetheless.
In the past year, the evergreen took a turn for the worse, seemingly overnight. When I commented that our tree died, my mom said, "I've always hated that tree."
What? Who hates a tree? Sure, it wasn't aesthetically pleasing, but all it ever did was provide a little shade and release oxygen into the environment. Really, it was good tree. It never lied, or cheated or stole from anyone. Compared to most people I know, the tree was a saint.
Mom said she didn't have anything to do with the tree's death. I believe her.
Anyway, one day my sister Kay and her son, Henry, age 3, came to visit my mom and I was there as well. Our talk turned to the tree, which we could see from the window.
Henry took a sudden interest in the conversation. He wanted to know what was going on with the tree and I explained that since it was dead, Uncle Greg would have to cut it down. Henry looked stricken. He put his face close to mine and said, "Sometimes things look dead in the wintertime, but then when the weather gets warm they get green again."Clearly, his mother had explained about winter dormancy, the way you can when you have one child. By the time I got to my third kid, my answer to all the "why" questions was "because that's how it works." I guess this explains why even now my kids think I'm pretty clueless. Meanwhile, Greg has genius status is our house.
Henry's mom told him that this was an evergreen and that it was supposed to stay green year round, and since it wasn't, it was no longer alive. He wasn't convinced and told me again that I needed to wait. His tone conveyed the kind of urgency you'd see in someone trying to get a death row pardon. I promised him we'd wait, a safe bet since we weren't planning to do much with the tree for a few weeks anyhow.
One week later, during a similar visit, Henry said, "Did you talk to Greg?"
I'd completely forgotten our conversation, but it was still on his mind. If anything, the tree looked more dead than it had the week before, but he looked so earnest that I told him I had talked to Greg and we agreed to leave the tree alone for the time being.
So now I'm praying for the tree to miraculously come back to life.
I'll keep you posted.
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