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Kindergarten hoopla

So, many of you know that a few weeks ago, after attending a rather chaotic camp for kindergartners, Elizabeth decided she did not want to start school.

It's been a rough month or so since that camp, each day Elizabeth asking if THIS was the day her horrid parents would send her off to the evil of public school (that she's loved for two years as part of their preschool program.)

She's cried. She's clung. She pouted even when shopping for school clothes, insisting she was NOT going. Meet the teacher day went pretty badly last Friday, both Elizabeth AND Mama bawling as the baby begged not to be sent away.

Fortunately, one of the on-top-of-things moms from the kindergarten class passed out invitations to a little party for the class held on Saturday. We went, of course, and while Elizabeth still didn't want to talk about kindergarten, she did meet more classmates and had great fun at the party.

Elizabeth woke up in a good mood this morning and happily dressed and arranged her backpack. When we arrived at the school, all the parents were funneled to the cafeteria, where the kids were arranged by grades. Emily had to be sent to the 3rd grade table, even though she was looking a little nervous herself, but immediately squeezed in between friends and was laughing.

Elizabeth watched Emily leave without Mama and Daddy and instantly performed her famous knee clutch. Her dad tickled her to get her loose and I stayed out of grabbing range.

Unlike the older kids, whose parents just sent them on their way, the kindergarten parents would not be thwarted by any "Let the children follow their teacher" business and got in line with their miniature progeny, cameras rolling. Elizabeth remained calm as we walked through the halls.

Once in the room, she looked a little more concerned, but then three miraculous things had happened:

• Her seat, which had "faced the wrong way," (one of her newest reasons for not wanting to go to school) was facing the other direction.
• The boy from camp that concerned her was sitting across the room and far away.
• Her best friend Sophia was now right across from her.
  

God bless her teacher. Or God blessed us.

She sat down, started drawing, and looked like the Elizabeth I had expected all along. We hugged her; she pretty much ignored us.

And we left.

All my babies are in school.

NOW Mama can start crying.

I'm a lot less romantic than I thought

So a dear friend of mine has the cutest web site called Psychic Tea Shoppe.

She has a number of fun elements--I Ching and Tarot. I took her Romance Quiz.

Man, I thought I was the most romantically inclined person I knew. But look how pitifully I scored. I must be getting old and jaded.

Romanticism Assessment
Your Score is 57 Percent

You appear to have a well-balanced romantic self. While you may get flutters in your stomach when you meet someone you are very attracted to, you do not let your romantic-self entirely dictate how you proceed. You will ask yourself if there is a chance this relationship will work before allowing yourself to fall in love.

Even if you feel a romantic connection is viable from a practical sense, you will not just allow yourself to be swept away. You do not have many illusions about love. While you may feel a very deep attachment to someone, you know love rarely conquers all. You know successful relationships take work and compromise and a desire by those involved to make their relationship work. Candlelight dinners and words of endless love may be nice, but they don't pay the bills or get the dishes washed.

The middle ground on the romanticism scale is neither entirely safe nor entirely lackluster. However it does not carry the weight of a romantic failure based upon being swooped off your feet. Nor is the middle ground so devoid of romanticism that you feel like you are living with a sibling. Also, there is quite a bit of evidence that with your outlook on romanticism your relationship has a very good chance of succeeding.

High School Musical Mania is HERE!

Okay, I admit it. I'm in LOOOOOOVE.

Gabriella. Troy. Sharpay. Ryan. All of it!

Yes, I have "High School Musical 2 Premiere" written on my calendar (August. 17!)

And I preordered the sound track for the sequel. $10 on I-tunes, comes with bonus calendar and digital album of images. Whoop!

But best of all, last weekend I went to the theater version of High School Musical at Zach Scott.

The show was wonderful. It took about two scenes to adjust to the difference in characters and feel from the movie, but after that, the live musical cleared up a number of plot and character flubs from the movie (like the mildly creepy Sharpay and Ryan sibling relationship).

And the romance between Gabriella and Troy is considerably less Disney-fied. The basketball "Keep Your Head in the Game" scene is unbelievably choreographed and pulled off. The addition of the school broadcaster to help the audience understand the scene locations (the set itself changes very little) was brilliant.

If you are a fan of the movie and thought there was *some little something* missing--let me assure you, the Zach Scott version does not disappoint!

Overall, the theater version serves up a more cohesive story and a lot more comedy. Both Emily and Elizabeth loved it. But I think I enjoyed it the most, leaving the theater feeling very excited and upbeat!

So go see if it you can! And don't call me on Aug. 17 (unless you're coming over to watch HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 2!)

With my kids!

I can't wait!

Unspeakable

It's hard to imagine a creation system where it is natural for healthy babies to die in their sleep.

It makes you question each religion, every set of beliefs. Maybe the science types are right--it's all just dust and atoms, chaotic and non-linear.

But faith has its place, and we cling to it out of desire and need. Only through God do we dream of meeting our loved ones again, so loss becomes our salvation.

I tell this regularly to people dealing with unspeakable grief. We must strengthen our faith, not lose it. And Faith is key, especially right now.

My long-time friends' daughter Cordelia Faith lived for three months and three weeks. We will miss her, most especially her parents and twin sister, all our lives.


Rest well, sweet Corey.

Cordelia Faith

March 14-July 5, 2007

34th Parallel

My latest published short story and an interview about me has just come out in 34th Parallel, a new lit mag started by a couple of very upbeat and ambitious folks who I've come to admire. I encourage writers, photogs, and artists to pick up a copy and see what they publish and submit their work.

My stuff isn't online, but ping me if you'd like to read it. My friends in my critique group have probably already seen the short story, The Nuvaring. The interview might surprise a few people. I surprised myself!

Otherwise I've been working on the latest draft of Helena the Muse and have found some amazing insightful new critique buddies who are helping me hone the manuscript.

The kids were in camp this week, so life was GOOD! Otherwise we are slogging through the long summer as best we can, without killing each other.

Lessons from Zoom and other unlikely sources

Wiggly feet kicked against the back of seats. Popcorn cascaded from little hands to dust the carpeted floor. The movie was ten minutes late starting, and the house was packed.

Not because it was a great movie. Because it was free.

Every summer the girls and I partake of the Free Family Fun Movie Festivals. They occur at many theaters around town--we go to Westgate every Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday at 10 a.m. They show two movies each week, a G and a PG.

Today we saw Zoom. Despite a good cast (Chevy Case, Courtney Cox, Tim Allen) the movie was dismal. Poor plotting, hitching pace, dropped storylines, ridiculous characterizations. Wretched.

But girls like the big screen and it helps break up our long days together. Watching the movie as I work on the third draft of my novel, however, was a lesson in what not to do. Single story arcs don't work. People want complexity. Flat characters are not believeable. They must have dimension. If you have a surprise along the way, it must be clever so that if you watch the movie again, you see it was there all along.

Zoom did none of these, but watching it made me see where my novel also sagged or relied upon cliche.

I try to avoid bad examples as I write, throwing down any book that falters lest I accidentally mimic style or other errors. But wiling away a summer day in an air conditioned theater with two girls already sick of each other and mama, it was a nice lesson in how not to screw up my book.

Couldn't Resist

Ever since I showed Elizabeth a YouTube clip of Shirley Temple performing "Good Ship Lollipop," which is her recital song for ballet class, Elizabeth has been star struck. We have gorged on Shirley Temple, and I find it amusing when my little diva starts imitating her.

I'll enjoy these days, because very soon it will be pop idols like Britney Spears she emulates.

This is her recital costume. They are only little such a short time!

Close call

I can't tell you how my heart hammered as I encountered this poster outside five-year-old Elizabeth's preschool room.

They apparently had been talking politics and the teachers had each child sign a poster specifying their party affiliation.

I could have been raising a Republican.

Whew.

The Writing Life

It's been an astonishing day for writing. I'd given it up for a bit, seeped myself in photographs, paid some bills, and now find myself longing for words, a desire that has built into an urgency.

I can thank Colette for her early morning inspiration in the form of her short story The Hollow Nut. It reminded me how beautiful language must be, always, and not to sacrifice detail for pacing.

Then came along the next phase of the interview for a lit mag. Martin's questions and my answers have followed the traditional route for good journalism--start with what's easy and lead up to in-depth. As we've traded emails, I've reminded myself why I write, and what, and how. It's made me focus again.

And nestled among my mail was a forgotten contest entry for the miscarriage novel Baby Dust, which I have currently abandoned. The first round judge gave me 49.9 points out of 50, stating he couldn't wait to read the whole thing after its certain publication. What was the .1? He preferred the word "synchronized" to my abbreviated and grammatically altered "synced."

Tonight I rewrote an old story, one of my best, and made it better. I was able to really close in on it, excise the excess, and add the ringing details that illuminate the message.

It's been a good day.