Monday, January 19, 2009

All this time. On and on I've no regrets.

Here are some more answers to this post. Enjoy or whatever.

Sabrina (who has a blog open to invited readers only) asks:
When your child asks you how babies are born and you tell her "you go to the hospital and the doctor helps you deliver the baby" and then she says "no mommy, How does the baby get out of your tummy, does he cut it out?" how do you explain vagina's and pushing and all that fun stuff? bear in mind she's 4.

Here's what I did when the Boy Child asked me.

I raised up the side of my shirt and said, "See this little scar right here? That's where you came out!"

Because I had a c-section. And not a traditional C. They came out the hole on my side.

That probably doesn't apply to you so allow me to apologize. Here's what I would say:

"I'll tell you when you are a little older".

Repeat as necessary.


squishytushy (who actually has a microscopic hiney) asks:
Are we going to learn Boy Child & Girl Child's real names in your book?

No ma'am.

Boy and Girl Child are the most valuable things I have in this world. I will do whatever I can to keep them safe and respect their privacy.

Boy Child asked me if I would please dedicate a book to him using his real name when he turns eighteen. I promised him I would. God willing


Fine for now asks:
How did you get to be so awesome?

Bless your heart...I never realized you were questionable.

Also? XOXO!



La Petite Redhead asks:
How did you end up writing the book and getting it published?

It's interesting, actually. Well, interesting, might be a bit strong. It's interesting to me.

I started writing a novel back in November 2006. I plodded along with this, despite the fact that my computer took a huge crap and died at one point and I lost EVERY SINGLE WORD I HAD WRITTEN, until about April of 2008. Then I called it done and started sending out query letters.

The novel? Well, it sucks.

I mean no one has ever said it sucks. But I know. It sucks. Truly. It Lamey McLame with Lame dressing.

So I started editing and rewriting it and trying to take it from a huge, steaming pile of crap to something that I wasn't ashamed of for years to come, and I came to a realization.

I couldn't make it any better.
It just sucked.

So I got really sad and frustrated and irritated and said something like, "The hell with this" and I haven't opened the file in months.

What I did, instead, was write a book of funny little stories about when I was dating after my first husband left me. I wrote it and I read it and I didn't absolutely hate it and want it dead.

I took it as a good sign.

So I worked on it some more. And I read it, and it? Wasn't bad.

I gave it to my good friend Dawn and asked her to edit/read it. She did. And she loved it. Or she told me she did, anyway.

That was encouraging.

As for the actual publishing part? I'm going to answer that in more detail because of someone else's comment. So I'll hold off for now.



This is getting long, so I'll stop for now. You still have time to leave your comment on this post and get the chance to get my book with my fancy, schmancy autograph. So if that kind of thing turns you on, help yourself.

7 comments:

Sabrina said...

LOL. I'll tell her that.

julie said...

I love it when you title your post with Tiffany lyrics.

(If this comment shows up three times, it's because Blogger/OpenID is being bitchy.)

dennis said...

Cool! I tell them that mom and dad went to the hospital and dad took too many drugs to remember. I then run out of the room before wife.imp can find anything light enough to pick up and throw

Boriqua said...

Color me jealous -- you're a published author! :) I'm constantly struggling to light that proverbial fire under my literal a$$ to just sit down and WRITE. At the rate I'm going, I'll finish my first draft somewhere around my 75th birthday.

Snarky Lady said...

I actually told my daughter that babies come out of the vagina. Yeah, she's decided to definitely NOT have kids. If I even mention that one day she might have children she gets this absolute look of fear on her face. Perhaps I should have stuck with the stork story.

Lisa said...

I like to think BC is named Bradley Christopher and GC is named Grace Christine, because to me they look like a Brad and a Gracie.

And don't they teach them where babies come from at school now? That's where mine learned. Basically all I told them was KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS OR ELSE.

SJ said...

Your readers have some very good questions! I'm digging your answere too!