Laughter is really the best medicine

I've been away for awhile, and I've missed you, really. Been busy writing, writing, writing, as all good writers are (and since that is what I aspire to be, I'm right there with them, pounding away, hoping something good will stumble out one of these days).

Actually, I've also been busy talking ... on the phone, that is. Sharing the minutiae of my life as Queen of the TC, and getting immediate feedback, as in laughter. Now who would laugh at my misfortunes in the life and times of children causing major household damage? A childless friend, of course. And she's laughing with me, without cringing at the repair bills that come after the giggles die down. She also doesn't own her current home, and so has no idea what a plumber costs these days, or a new toilet, for that matter.

.

I wish I didn't ... and I wish I didn't keep it as a monthly line item in my budget! Is it still funny when the plumber has a nickname for your house? We're the dinosaur house, in case you were wondering.

But it's good to laugh. And I promise not to cry when I get the estimate for the new ceiling in the kitchen (the one directly below the 2nd floor bathroom) because the devil child really had some fun in the tub, tonite.

.

Maybe he won't be laughing when he finds out his college fund is sending the plumber's kid to Harvard.

The Non-Writing Part of Writing

I've been getting some pretty nice critiques of my newest story, "Quiet Jack". Basically, what they amount to is fix the punctuation and good to go. Aw hell, they're Great critques! So now I must suck up and submit for publication.

It's not the easy part of writing, it's not the hard part. It's just the Non-Writing part of Writing. Publishing ... or rather, looking to be published ... which, if successful, leads to more non-writing, which would still be a Good Thing. Right up there with Deadlines and Decisions.

It's a scary step, submitting to a book publisher. Now that I'm getting used to magazine rejections, it's a whole new world out there to conquer. But it's a little easier with a cheering section. And, of course, with the myriad distractions of more writing, school starting up soon, and the rest of the household and family obligations beckoning ... I won't notice every single day that passes between submitting and replying, will I?

It will only be posted on my Progress Meter that I check Every Day. But for now, first things first ... out the door to publisher #1 by the end of this week. Because next week I have two columns to write.

Deadlines ... gotta love 'em!

Wisdom from the Prince

Here in the Testosterone Castle privacy is just an illusion. So it should come as no surprise to anyone that while I'm stepping out of the shower, there is at least one little prince perched on his throne, waiting to share his immense knowledge of the world. Usually it's the littlest one.

.

"You don't have a penis?" in his public-address voice, in case anybody walking by outside might want to partake of his wisdom of the day.

.

And for the umpteenzillionth time, "No, I don't have a penis."

.

"You need a penis." He's quite matter-of-fact about it.

.

"I do just fine without one."

.

"You should get one!"

.

"We already have three in this house. No more penises."

.

"You should get one at the groceries!"

.

Now would that be at the deli counter or the butcher shop?