Castle in the Clouds

Writing looks, in a lot of ways, like a very selfish enterprise. - Gail (chatroom buddy and writing pal) This little statement really hit home with me when I read it on the screen during a recent chat. When I consider my personal struggle with finding and taking the time to write, I invariably end up feeling guilty. Not because anyone says or does anything to make me feel bad but because I have a hard time justifying the time and effort. I've often dreamed of retiring from the day job and making writing my fulltime profession. In this little fantasy of mine I see myself dedicated to the computer while the kids are in school and the hubby is at work. I see myself succeeding because I've finally found guilt-free time to focus on the story. Distractions would be minimimal and yet I'd still manage to be wife, mom and housekeeper. I'd churn out the stories and start peddling them to agents and pubishers alike. Of course, I never quit the day job because that would be i

Me & Ken camping this weekend. 

Well, apparently my dad's girlfriend stepped over the line Saturday night. She had been drinking again and let her claws out. I guess they had been sniping at each other on and off during the evening because she was drinking again. Dad always believes her when she says she's quit and then he gets all bent out of shape when she shows up on his doorstep with a 6-pack. Well, long story short, my sister was bringing her three kids into the house (remember she lives with Dad while her and her hubby work out some issues) and heard the two of them arguing. So, she decided to turn right around and leave. She had the baby's carseat in one hand and a gallon of milk in the other. Using her hip and butt, she pushed out the door. Well, it slammed closed behind her. Not intentionally--her hands were full. Upon hearing the door slam shut, Nutty looked at my dad and said, "Your fucking daughter just slammed the door." That got her booted out of the house. Dad told her

What rating is your journal? brought to you by Quizilla

Changing the template seemed to help!

I don't know what happened but apparently it's some funky setting in internet explorer. I can't figure out how to reset to default so I'm just playing around with some settings until I can find something I can live with. This shouldn't effect anyone else.

...for my handful or readers. Does the text in this blog appear italicized to you? When I'm at work it doesn't but at home I can't get it to look normal! Is it my monitor or something funky about the blog? I just can't tell. Your input will help. I hope.

Evening schedule for the week so far: Monday - Baseball Tuesday - T-ball Wednesday - Baseball Thursday - Pack Camper for Weekend Away I've been busy! Unbelievably, I have managed to get a little bit written this week. Not a lot but I'm a firm believer that something is better than nothing when it comes to keeping the writing alive. I've managed to bump up the wordcount on Magic & Madness (the romantica story) to 6K. Not bad considering this story is only a couple weeks old. I also sat down the other night and began reworking Dragonborn . I'm still figuring out how to make this Ghislaine's story and not Danken's. While he still plays a major role, I never should have written with him as the MC. It's not his story! My only excuse is this was my first ever attempt at writing fantasy. I'm going to try to get another few hundred words on Magic and Madness before bed. The story is moving along nicely and I don't want to jinx it!

Okay. I usually post blah-blah entries about life beyond writing but today I'm going to give myself over to the Dark Side of the Force. My dad has been divorced for almost a year. This was his second marriage and it lasted 18 years; his marriage to my mom lasted for 11. My Dad is awesome. Seriously. I couldn't love him any more than I do. When my mom decided to end their marriage my dad fought for us and won costudy. This was nearly unheard of in the 80s but, with our help, he managed to convince the Judge that he would be the better choice for his four kids. Mom had an issue I'll refer to here as "Crazy, Wacko Boyfriend". I was ten then. I met my future step-mom a few months after my parents split. By the time the divorce was final, D and her one-year-old daughter had moved in. Wedding plans were underway. They were married the June after the the divorce was final. Now, although I love my dad, I know the man has faults. He's a clean freak. No,

After I got home from my son's baseball game tonight I booted up the computer. I then made the mistake of turning on the TV. There's this new show, The Closer , on FX. It's pretty good. I had watched the season premiere last week and had liked it well enough. Yep, you guessed it. I got suckered into tonight's episode. Next thing I know it's 10:00 and I've not written anything. Damn that box!

Didn't have time to post yesterday because we were on the roads most of the day. Poor hubby. I can't imagine it's much fun running from here to there trying please his dad and mine. After purchasing their gifts--yes, on Father's Day--we stopped by the campground where his parents were camping for the next few weeks. We went put-put golfing and on a horse-drawn wagon ride. After we left there we stopped for ice cream and then continued on to my dad's house. We didn't get anyone anything fancy for Father's Day. My dad loves StarBucks coffee so we bought him a big ole bag of StarBuck beans. His dad has a passion for Peppermint Schnapps and popcorn so that's what he got. Not very sentimental, eh? But we know they'll be put to good use. :-) My hubby insisted he didn't want anything more than the wash pail the boys had decorated for him at daycare. It has their little handprints immortalized on the sides with their names fingerpainted beneat

Okay. I don't really have anything new to post. I came home tonight and crashed. Didn't even do the dishes. Made dinner, which is impressive since you know I don't like to cook, and then tossed all the dirty dishes into the sink with a "I'll do these later" comment. Worked out on the Gazelle for 1/2 hour while watching LOTR. Hey, it helps pass the time. Exercising is not fun for me. And that's pretty much it. No writing. No great insights. Nadda. So....in an effort to amuse you and embarrass myself, I decided to post a snippet from somethig I wrote nearly a decade ago. Perhaps longer. I really should date these things. It's probably full of grammatical errors and makes no sense whatsoever. Consider yourself warned. And without further ado.... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ copyright Krista Heiser 2005 (Because you never know if I might decide to fix it up and send it out) It was still dark when Raena Colbe

Both of my boys had ballgames tonight. On our way to pick them up from daycare my husband must have called our answering machine at least three times because we were certain the association would cancel all activities. The sky was dark gray and swelling, the clouds expanding with moisture. It was so going to rain. Of course, there wasn't a message and we were forced to pack the kids up and run them to the fields. It started raining five minutes into their games (they were on two separate diamonds). It rained and rained and rained. The kids played for fifteen to twenty minutes, soaked through and through. Now, mind you, these aren't high school kids. My youngest is on the 4-5-6 year-old league and his brother is on the 7-8-9 year-old league. These are little people and one of mine has been fighting off something. Well, they ushered the kids into the dugouts where they made them stand for another 15 minutes to see if the rain would let up. Call the games already, ump!

While we don't have a definitive answer on the reason for my son's swollen lymph nodes and the on-again/off-again fevers, the oncologist assured us cancer was not a concern. He suspects either a parasite or virus. He's going to have the lab check for the parasite and/or viruses he suspects could be responsible for the symptoms. This is a huge relief. Although we were told his lymph nodes may remain inflammed for several weeks, months or years, we shouldn't worry unless more dramatic symptoms appear. Random fevers are also to be expected and shouldn't send us running to the doctor's office. I can deal with that. Oh, and that unsightly cyst he's had since birth? Unless it becomes infected, it's harmless. For those of you who said a quick prayer, thank you. I truly believe we were blessed today.

If you're a writer, you have them. It may be presumptuous--who? me?--but I believe even the most accomplished writers have their weaknesses. Of course, if these authors have made it not only into print but have managed to repeatedly climb the NYT Best Seller lists, I must assume their strengths far outweigh their weaknesses. The same holds true for those who can claim professional status even if their books have resulted in moderate sales or worse. Perhaps their books are more well written, their conflict tighter, their characters more believable than their NYT Best Seller counterparts. It's certainly possible. But why then do their books not receive the same recognition and acclaim? It's a question that you'll find discussed in a variety of places and by a variety of people. Books have been written to help aspiring and mid-list authors alike achieve a higher level of writing. I own a few of those books. I read them every now and again...bit by bit when the writ

Well, the appointment got cancelled. The doctor wasn't going to be able to make it (no explanation why) so the receptionist rescheduled for next week. In a way, I'm glad. The hubby is home now and will be able to attend the appointment as well, which means he can hear first hand what's going on.

I have the perfect opportunity to write. The kids are in bed, the hubby's is gone, and I've got time to spare before I need to turn in for the night. Unfortunately, I can't seem to focus on anything. I can't stop thinking about what could possibly be wrong with my baby. Even when I reassure myself that it might be something minor, perhaps even silly, my fears won't allow me to relax. This is going to be a long week.

In response to Holly's challenge: These are the "mistakes" I'm ever so grateful for making. Holly wanted us to list five mistakes but three seems to be my limit tonight. I'm getting tired!! #1 College: Settling for less. I really wanted to be a marine biologist when I graduated from high school. I loved my science classes, had a fascination for anything aquatic, and had dreams of swimming with the dolphins and studying the sharks in their natural environment. Of course, my grades weren't the best back then but I felt certain I could do it if I put my mind to it. After all, I got decent grades with very little effort. Put some studying into the mix and I imagined I'd be just fine. There were a couple reasons why I didn't pursue this dream. Money was a big one. My dad was the sole provider for a family of seven but, apparently, he made too much money. I could get loans but not grants. Scholarships were, at that time, out of the question. I ju

Well, my oldest did not need stitches. A little steri-strip to hold the edges together seemed to do the trick. Whew! No need to feel like worst mom of the year today! My youngest, on the other hand, seems to be up to his usual tricks. The doctor has decided to refer him out to a specialist, one that deals with blood infections and oncology. He told me not to panic but you know a small (okay, big) part of me can't help but to freak out a little. I can't imagine anything worse than something happening to my boys. These temps and swollen lymph nodes (it has progressed from just along his neck to his neck and armpits now) scare the shit out of me. I can't help it. Needless to say I called my mom and asked her to start praying and then I promptly did a little on bended knee action myself. I'm not usually the type so you know this has got the worry juices flowing. I tend to say my thank yous and pleases when I'm in bed just before drifting off to sleep. His ap

I don't know why but it seems as if something bad happens every time my husband leaves on a trip. He's in Chicago this week for a conference. He's been gone less than 24 hours and I'm taking both kids into the doctor's office--I think my oldest might need stitches and my youngest is running a fever and his lymph nodes are swollen again. Last night we had tornado warnings, which meant we retreated to the basement where, should the worst happen, we'd stand a better chance of survival. The basement is nothing fancy. It has cement floors and walls. Half of it is filled with exercise equipment, a wrap-around couch, and toys. The other half is my scrapbooking room and laundry area. Once I realized the weather had become unstable, I sent my kids and my sister's kids into the basement. Then I spent time finding a flashlight, a lighter for the candles I keep down there, warmer clothes for all of us (the basement is always cold), snacks, and drinks. Once the

A good online friend of mine has finally joined the blog-o-sphere. She's only posted twice so far but it's good stuff. At least, I think so. If you have the time and inclination, stop by her new site: Fetu's Lantern

That new story I said was spewing forth? Well, I think it's erotica. I've tried to imagine how to vanilla it down and it's not possible. This story doesn't want to be "good girl" material. The main conflict is directly tied to sex. Of course, being me, I can't just let my heroine have indiscriminate sex with whoever happens to be handy. I want romance, too. The thing I find most interesting about this is that I didn't think I was capable of writing erotica. My rather straight-laced upbringing has preprogrammed me to censor certain words. Although I can read them without flinching, to write them seems vulgar. This story is determined to break down those barriers! Of course, I'll probably be too embarrassed to share this with anyone. It'll get written and quickly filed away. Kind of like how I gobble down the chocolate bar when no one is looking and bury the wrapper in the garbage.

I'm chaperoning my son's first grade field trip to the zoo today. Lucky for me it's a different zoo than the one I just visited with my preschooler on his field trip. I have little over an hour to get ready so this will be a short post. Yes, it takes me an hour to curl my hair, put on makeup, and eat breakfast. My hair needs to be cut, which means it's reached the "I refuse to do what you want me to" stage. I was supposed to get it cut last night but the fates conspired to work against me once more and I had to miss my appointment.