A beautiful day

I can hardly drive for watching the clouds these days. Last night's sunset was one of those that made me wish I had a great camera at hand and the skill to use it well. Today's clouds are softer, high, and almost look like the end of a wave when it washes out over the sand. The air is crisper today, energizing. We haven't had the AC on since we got home at 9 last night. It probably feels delightful because the air has been silverish with water the past few days.

My flowers are exuberant. Unfortunately I've not been putting my morning ritual first these days--decide to start laundry or empty the dishwasher first--and the sun has been too strong to sit out there. It almost blinds me because it rises directly in line with my front porch. In fact, when the door is closed, the sunlight makes a rainbow on my wall when it sneaks through the peephole. I keep thinking I'll try an evening to sit out there, but it's not the same. The TV blares from inside, and the neighborhood is alive and noisy--as it should be--till it gets dark. I enjoy the quiet of the morning.

I've set myself a deadline of July 31st to finish my YA novel. I did some intense word-by-word work on the first two chapters last week. It's tiring. I think mostly because I have to keep dragging myself back to what I'm trying to do; I just want to keep on reading and I can't afford to become a reader now. At any rate, I have requested permission to send it to an agent at the end of July; had to set that firm commitment out there so that I had the incentive to get it done.

The Oklahoma Chapter of SCBWI is meeting at a park in Oklahoma City on Saturday for a critique-a-thon. I'm trying to work up the nerve to carry my carcass and my manuscript down there. I wish people were easier for me. It curls my toes to think about walking into a group of strangers. But once you walk in and a few minutes pass, they aren't strangers anymore, are they? I should look up a map to the park and start talking myself into it NOW.

I'm boring myself, so I'm going to quit for now. I did make progress on the short story I started two weeks ago in workshop. Of course, when I was staring at the ceiling trying to sleep the whole thing mapped itself out nicely, but the second I got up to put it on paper, the details were gone like water through a sieve. I started writing anyway, having an idea of where I wanted to go, but caught none of the excitement I'd felt dreaming up the ending in bed. Oh well.

Till next time!