Category: LHA

Miss me?

The graduation was amazing. Background: my sister has three kids – Tiffany (9th grade), April (happy graduate), and Ryan, (age 20). Ryan is a private in the US Army and has been stationed in South Korea for a year. It was hoped that he could return home on his first leave for his sister’s graduation, but the timing didn’t work.

At least that’s what we told his sister.

April graduated from Hannibal High School, a small, rural school. She had 80 kids in her class. On Friday night we all packed ourselves into the auditorium and sat through the speeches and awards which proceeded the main event. Finally, it was time to hand out the diplomas. Each graduate walked across the stage when her or his name was called. Kids with large families or kids who had driven their family crazy drew especially enthusiastic round of applause. The principal gave out most of the diplomas, with two exceptions: kids whose parents were school board members. They received their diplomas from their parents, which was nice.

April’s last name begins with an ‘S’ so we had to wait until almost the end. Finally, they called her name. My heart swelled. And then the announcer said, “April will be receiving her diploma from Private First Class Ryan Stevens, a 2003 Hannibal High School graduate, currently serving with….” The rest of his words were lost in the roar from the crowd. Ryan stepped out from the wings wearing his dress uniform. The place went nuts.

April froze. She stared at her brother, not sure what she was seeing. The crowd was on its feet, whistling and clapping, shouting. Ryan stood at attention. Finally the person behind April told her to move. She walked slowly across the stage. Her brother opened his arms and gave her a hug (and her diploma) and then it got really loud. It was wonderful. Many, many tears.

There were graduation parties and family get-togethers, and we worked on the house, too. BH is working very hard on the office he is making for me. I move up there in 32 days, so the clock is ticking.

Did any of you guys got to ALA (annual American Library Association convention)? If so, do tell.

I leave in a minute to catch a train to New York City. I’ll be visiting the offices of Recorded Books, where they are finishing up the recording of the PROM audiobook. They want to add a brief interview with me at the end of the tape. Here’s hoping I don’t come off as a gibbering idiot. I loathe the sound of my voice on tape. In my head, I sound like a youngish Lauren Bacall. In reality, my voice is a cross between a chipmunk and an easily offended maiden aunt. Gah.

I love visiting NYC, but there’s no time for dawdling or gawking today. As soon as the interview is over, I’ll hop back on the train home. I leave tomorrow for a trip North, both to see my BH and for family gatherings and my niece’s graduation this weekend.

Feeling like the sand is running out of the hourglass….

So I was hacking away at my WIP yesterday and I came across a mirage. My tiny writer’s brain thought it saw a better book in the distance, tempting me, calling to me.

“You don’t want to continue in your WIP,” it cooed. “Come to me. I am the perfect novel. Look – aren’t my characters more interesting? Doesn’t the plot turn delightfully? You know you want to write me.”

Oh, nasty mirage. Oh, dark temptation!

This happens during every novel. Every stinking one. I’m not sure where it comes from: desperation, fear, inadequacy. But I know this is a temptation that needs to be faced head on, or it doesn’t go away. I took a couple hours and wrote up a summary of the new idea, then I went back to the WIP.

Happy Summer Solstice. This is a great time of year to be in Scandinavia.

I spent yesterday at the Jersey Shore, Sea Isle City, to be precise. Instead of a traditional graduation party, Mer wanted to hang at the shore with her parents and some friends. Her dad and step-mom graciously offered the use of their house. Her dad took the Sat. night shift, and I turned up for the day yesterday. And yes, we had a blast – lots of laughs and food.

The weird thing was – I sat on the beach for several hours.

Why is this a big deal?

I am a survivor of melanoma. That is the really icky skin cancer that will kill you, if you don’t catch it early. I was lucky – I caught it early, which is why I am typing this instead of rotting in the earth. I was diagnosed in July 2002 and had the two icky pieces removed a few weeks later. I am now a vampire, afraid of the sun, sticking always to the shadows. This can be depressing. I’m always worried about being in the sun. I don’t swim in outdoor pools, or go for walks after 8 am. I garden on the shady side of the house.

Why did I get this? Nobody knows. I’m a fairly pale person – mostly English and Irish descent. I was never a sun worshipper because I burn easily. I did have a number of nasty, blistering, peeling sunburns as a kid. Doctors suspect that may have something to do with the development of the disease. The paler you are, the greater your chances of getting melanoma. And melanoma is the number one cause of cancer deaths of women ages 25-30. But anyone can get melanoma, even people of African descent. Please learn about this disease – information is power.

Like most everything else, it’s all about attitude. Since we took most of our kids with us on our honeymoon last year, we went to Universal Studios in Florida (I love roller coasters). A melanoma survivor in Florida in July?! It’s possible. I wore lightweight long pants, an incredibly dorky hat, and a special cover-up jacket, along with 40SPF sunscreen on my face and the backs of my hands. I hate having to dress up like the mummy to go outside and I really dislike gooping on sunscreen on hot, humid days, but those are cards I’ve been dealt.

And my beach day yesterday? The weather cooperated. It was cool and windy, so I was comfortable in jeans, sneakers, and a sweatshirt. And I wore a hat (hopefully not too dorky). Sunscreen was on my face and hands. Thank you slightly crappy weather for the great day!!

Some famous advice about life and sunscreen.

I can’t believe I missed Bloomsday yesterday! Gah! I’m an idiot. I love the writing of James Joyce. No, he’s not a beach read. He’s a challenge (at least for me). But he made the English language sing. If I ever write something that is one-ten-thousandanth as good as what he writes, I’ll be a happy camper.

Speaking of writing, that’s what I did all day. My WIP draft is maybe 20% done. Complications are begin to pile up nicely for my main character. While I have a vague sense of direction, surprising things pop up and that keeps it interesting for me. It helped that the temp is way down and I was able to turn off the air conditioning for the first time in weeks. The windows are all open and the apartment is comfortable for a change. If summer was always 75 degrees, I might like it.

Thanks everybody who wrote in with cover thoughts. It was fascinating to read them. I’ve also been reading Vonnegut, as someone suggested. I’ve chewed through three of his novels so far and I’m enjoying them.

Oooh! Oooh! I had another James Joyce thought. If you visit Philly this summer (which you should, except maybe not on July 2nd), be sure to visit the Rosenbach Museum so you can see this.