Happy Halloween

Or Samhain, or whatever you prefer to call it. Here are my best wishes for your safety and well-being tonight and on into the future. Where we are, it looks like it's going to be a nice evening--warm enough and reasonably good weather for the trick-or-treating--but there's so much more to this holiday than meets the eye. It's a time for many cultures to honor their ancestors and those loved ones who have passed on. And as it was once the Celtic new year, it also represents both an ending and a beginning. This year, it seems particularly apt.

Samhain is the time of year during which my book takes place, so I'm thinking of Brenna fondly tonight. It would be perfect if by this time next year, I have a book in my hands. But for tonight...all is very well indeed.

Characters

Some people are very good at writing believable characters, while others are better at plotting. And even when a person can create good characters, sometimes he has an easier time creating characters of one sex than the other. I know some people who do great female characters and have a bit of a challenge with male characters. I'm just the opposite. For some reason, my male characters are fine, while the females often need quite a bit of revision. It isn't really the secondary female characters, either--it's usually the main characters I have trouble conveying properly. I may know what makes them tick, but somehow I don't always get into their heads enough in the right places to show the reader what the MC is thinking or feeling. Recently a wonderful lady pointed out to me that this generally tends to happen when my female protagonist is in a scene with another character. If she's alone, we're in her head and know what's going on, but when someone else enters the scene, we sometimes lose the internal dialog that would give us the clue as to what she's actually feeling. I'm so glad she pointed this out to me; I wasn't aware that this is what was happening. Now that I know what to watch for, I can fix it.

I was trying to figure out why I have this difficulty, and I think I may have an answer. I think that I've read so much about the concept of "Mary Sues" that I hold back a little when writing a female main character. A "Mary Sue" is thought to be wish fulfillment on the author's part--when the author creates a character who is in essence the author herself, only prettier, smarter, more confident...too darn close to perfect. Subconsciously, I think I worry that if I put too much of me into my character or put myself too far into her shoes, then she could end up being a Mary Sue. So when it comes down to the writing of that character, what happens is the exact opposite: I don't give the character enough of my strengths, don't go far enough into her head, etc. In essence, she becomes an anti-Mary Sue. Then there's the other half of the problem: the concern about "telling" vs. "showing". I've always tried to show by the character's body posture, physical reactions, etc. what she's feeling or going through. Apparently, in my quest to show, not tell, I've still not shown enough--or maybe just a tiny bit of telling is actually warranted. So the combination of these things that I hold back on is enough to cause a disconnect between some of my readers and my main character. I know that a writer can't please everyone all of the time, and different readers will form completely different ideas about the same piece of writing, but since I've identified that these things can be a problem for my MC, I need to watch out for them.

I went back into some stuff I'd already written and played with one of my MC's a bit to see what I could do if I made some changes along the lines I mentioned above. Where before I have to admit I was a little frustrated and in fact felt a slight disconnect from my own character at times, after I made the changes I found myself thinking, "You go, girl!", wanting to cheer my MC on and feeling proud of her when she showed backbone in the right places and for the right reasons. Girl power, not Mary Sue power. That's what we need.

The Agent Article

Some time ago, I mentioned that Mike Briggs had asked to use an article I wrote on how to find an agent. That article is now up on Patricia Briggs' website. The link is here. Hope some people find it helpful! I'll post the same link under "Writing Resources" in my sidebar to make it easier to find the article after this post has been archived.

Pantserplotter, I Think

I've almost finished chapter five of the new book. It's going pretty well, considering I don't have every little detail of the book plotted out yet. I have the broad strokes, yes. I know where we're going with this one, what's at stake, mostly who's who and who does what to whom. There are some scenes missing yet on the journey from beginning to end.

I'd never heard of the term "pantser" before until a friend who's a member of RWA explained it. A pantser is a person who writes by the seat of his or her pants--no detailed outline for the plot conjured up beforehand. Organic might be another way to describe it. And then a plotter is, well...self explanatory. Outlines are detailed and fleshed out and the story is all planned beforehand.

With the last two epic fantasy books, I carefully plotted out each scene on 3 by 5 cards before writing it. The first one, I wrote without an outline. With the first Brenna book, I also plotted it out on scene cards beforehand. This second book is often getting its scenes written in detail before I even make a scene card for it. On the other hand, I have a lot of specific scenes plotted already. I don't seem to be either a full-fledged pantser or a truly consistent plotter, though I do plot scenes ahead of time as much as I can. I guess that makes me a pantserplotter.

Faith

Okay, we had a post on doubt, and I haven't posted in a while, so maybe it's time to post on doubt's opposite, faith. I know some people come to this blog deliberately, and some stumble on here while looking up something else that just happened to hit certain key words like hummer or Superman. But here's the thing. This isn't just a blog about an endless wait for publication. It isn't just a blog about one writer's struggle for validation in a tough, crowded field with relatively few spots open for new talent. It isn't even just a blog about how in the world a person writes books and tries to build a career from scratch while dealing with life and motherhood. It's all of those things and more, but ultimately, this is a blog about faith. It's about keeping on when the going gets tough. It's about not giving up. It's about believing, no matter how long it takes or how hard it seems, that I've got something worth saying and worth reading. And most of all, it's about making dreams into reality.

So let's try a little experiment. Everyone who reads this blog and knows what it's like to want something so bad you can just about taste it and touch it, do this visualization with me, if you will. Lend just a little of your energy to making this dream come true. You never know. Magic could happen.

Imagine you're holding a paperback novel. It's the same size as all standard mass-market paperbacks. Its cover is smooth under your fingers, and it smells like ink and new paper--that irresistible brand-new book scent that is the reason some of us don't care for e-book readers. The author's name is Kathy Hurley, and the title reads either "From the Ninth Wave" or maybe just "Ninth Wave." The story is set in Ireland, so the cover artwork gives that feel. It could take just about any style or form, but however it's done, there's a raven or crow somewhere in the picture. Think about this book being real--something you can find on the fantasy shelves not terribly far from Huff or Hunt. Imagine that it comes out next October, close to Halloween. See it in your hands, and believe it'll soon be yours. Believe it'll soon be ours. This is a prayer, a visualization, an affirmation. Sometimes if people believe in something hard enough, it becomes real. They say that's what faith can do, and I believe in faith.

Doubt

This week, one of my friends was having some doubts about her book, mostly based on a negative review from a test reader. She emailed, needing a pep talk. I think we succeeded on that score, but it got me thinking about unpublished writers, doubt, and self-sabotage.

It's not easy to get a novel published. First, you have to actually write the thing, which is a major undertaking in itself. Anyone who has written one or more complete novels should be very proud of himself; it isn't simple, and it represents a huge amount of time and effort--not to mention faith. Then, most writers face the hurdle of finding an agent, which is also a huge undertaking and can take years to do. Anyone who's completed a novel and been accepted by a reputable agent should celebrate that accomplishment; good, experienced agents don't accept writers whose work isn't worthy of publication. But even after you have an agent, there's still the last major pre-publication hurdle: finding a home for the book. That can also take years, especially in today's market. Plenty of now-bestselling authors struggled for many years to accomplish these things. I remember reading somewhere that on average, it can take about ten years from the first novel to publication, no matter how good the writer is to begin with. So delays and setbacks would seem to be more the norm for an unpublished writer than the exception.

There are those charmed ones whose first novel lands on the right desk at the right time and poof, they're published. I'd have loved to be one of those. But the first Brenna book isn't my first novel; it's my seventh. I started seriously working at getting published in 1997, a year after my younger daughter was born, and at that time I had already written three novels. I think I attended my first writers' conference in 1998 and started regularly submitting manuscripts that year, so that makes this year 10 since I got serious about being a career writer. I've done the work and put in the time.

Do I doubt that my current novel is worthy of publication? No. Absolutely not. The last three were also worthy of it. If they weren't, I wouldn't have an agent--especially an agent who used to be a highly-placed editor. Does that mean I have no doubts about my work at all? No. Of course I have doubts. I've been represented for five of those ten years and still have no publishing contract. Granted, it was mostly due to business decisions on the part of the potential publishers, and a few business decisions on my part as well. I was told that many publishers liked the first Oantra novel, but couldn't find a spot for it in their lists, which pretty much meant that the second and third Oantra novels were doomed as well. Instead of scrapping the second and third books, I made the decision to continue writing the trilogy even though the first one hadn't been picked up yet, instead of switching to a new premise or a new genre. I don't regret that decision; completing the series was a major accomplishment, and I'm proud of having done so. However, as a consequence, I now have a great epic fantasy trilogy, but no contract. I can't blame the publishers for making the decisions they thought best at the time, however much I might want to. I hit the high fantasy market at a time when it was at an ebb, unfortunately, and then I didn't switch niches until last year. That's really what accounts for the ten year delay. I'm disappointed in that outcome, but on the other hand, I learned a lot of craft in the ten years, which is always a good thing.

That brings us to the period from March 2006 to April 2008. In that time, I wrote the first Brenna book and also worked on the third book of the Oantra trilogy. I only turned in the final edits of the Brenna book in April of this year, so it hasn't been out in the market for all that long yet. Six months. That's not much time, in the grand scheme of publishing. But I'd be lying if I said that a small part of me isn't a little gun-shy about this process, after spending so long working on the Oantra books and not getting them published. What unpublished writer doesn't wonder whether they've got the right book out there this time, whether the publishers will like it, whether they'll care that it's written in third person and not first, whether it's different enough to stand out in an increasingly crowded market, and so on? With all those uncertainties, it would be easy to let self-doubt sabotage the whole thing. But all the books on abundance and living your dreams say that you can't allow doubt to stop you--that the thing you focus on is the thing you get more of. So I have to see this book as a tangible thing. I can't afford to doubt that it will be published, which is why I usually refer to it as a book and not a manuscript. They say the people who are published now are the ones who never gave up. I have to believe that, too. It makes sense that the surest way to fail is to stop trying and give in to doubt, which I truly believe is my worst enemy, and probably the worst enemy of many other people as well.

Independent Film

Today was a busy day, and it's not over yet. First thing, my older daughter and I went to the farmers' market to get the week's food, which we stowed in a cooler in my car. Then we had just enough time to drive to our fusion bellydance class. Then we grabbed lunch and headed downtown to attend the first screening of an independently produced documentary on bellydance called "Belly", by Boise bellydancer and costume designer Cecilia Rinn. Despite the film's small budget, it was a beautiful work that aptly celebrated what the dance means to women here in the U.S., and the many ways in which it empowers them.

I'll be spending the rest of the evening working on the new Brenna book. Still haven't gotten to the edits for Shifts, but that's probably good, as the time I let it sit will greatly help the revision process. Some shelf time after completing a novel is extremely helpful for gaining the perspective needed for editing--and I'm still at the point where I can afford to give it that shelf time. After I get a publisher's contract, I may not get to let manuscripts sit more than a few days after they're finished, unless I get the book done way before a deadline.

Who Do You Call?

Idaho Spirit Seekers! No, really. Today was their first seminar, and it was a lot of fun and very informative. We got to see and touch ghost-hunting equipment, hear their various views from the skeptics to the psychics, and hear about why and how they do what they do. I met another writer there who has come to the spec-fic group a few times, and she actually went on an investigation tonight. I would have gone also, but was running on too few hours of sleep due to family obligations late last night, so I'll go during one of these next few months when they're doing one of their ongoing investigations. All told, today was a good piece of research for writing in the paranormal field, fiction or otherwise.

Something of Value

Our new local Spec-Fic writers' group has been meeting for several months now, and recently it was decided that we'd have someone offer a talk or presentation on a different topic every month so everyone could keep learning and progressing as we go along. It isn't a crit group--just a group of like-minded individuals who are all writing in the general categories of fantasy and sci-fi. Since I have an agent, they asked me to do a presentation on how to seek representation for an unpublished novel. Tonight was the night for that. It went smoothly and the information was well received.

I'm looking forward to whatever everyone else presents in this group; we have a diverse bunch of people here and I'm confident that everyone has something of value to offer.

Just Enough Time

Tonight I had intended to stop off at the Barnes and Noble and work on the laptop, but I had a couple of errands to run first. When I stopped by a friend's house to drop off something I'd borrowed, she and I ended up talking for a couple of hours, and by then, Barnes and Noble was closed. I think the conversation was something we both needed, and I think it helped us both in different ways. I'm glad it happened, even though I didn't do the writing I intended. I've been aware lately of how much we as humans get trapped by the clock and by schedules. I know that to some extent, schedules are necessary, but on the other hand, they can serve to limit what we can accomplish, and they can also contribute to our becoming inflexible. Had I stuck to my planned schedule, I might have gotten a lot more writing done tonight. But I also wouldn't have had a chance to talk to a friend who needed a willing ear.

I've read some helpful books recently that said just proceeding with the confidence that you will manage to meet all your responsibilities and the necessary things will get done helps in overcoming a dependence on the clock. They said that one day soon, humans will realize that we've completely mistaken the very meaning of time. I hope that's true. Time is something I never seem to have enough of, and I'm constantly having to neglect one thing to accomplish another. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to stretch time so that everything gets done and stress and performance pressure becomes a distant memory?

Then there's the fact that sometimes just a little time spent at something is enough. I did manage to write for twenty minutes or so. I got one paragraph written and ate dinner at the same time. Not much writing progress...or was it? It might only have been one paragraph, but it was the paragraph that helped me figure out how the scene needed to end, and the one that set things up perfectly for my next writing session. Given the results, I'd say that even if it wasn't as much time as I'd planned, for tonight it was just enough time to make a difference.

Striking a Balance

The road to creative expression is a bumpy one, with plenty of healthy ups and downs and long flat spots in between. I believe the key is to navigate them the best way you can at the time, and if you make mistakes, pick up and keep moving forward. I've heard plenty of stories of discouragement and frustration from other writers, but the ones who made it to publication were always the ones who didn't give up, even when the going got rough. Recently, I was reading the blog of a writer who has been seriously ill. For a while, she wasn't even able to post. However, she's determined to get well. I wish her luck and I'm sure she'll succeed. In the meantime, her new book comes out this month.

I think sometimes people fall into the trap of treating a blog like a confessional. Sometimes no matter how hard you try to sound upbeat and optimistic, the slightest bit of discouragement can creep into the words and give people the wrong idea. Not all people interpret the same words in the same way, and that's an important thing to remember when blogging about your life. It's hard to strike exactly the right balance between communicating a small bit of frustration and giving people the wrong idea. Apparently, even though I thought I'd kept things upbeat, I somehow managed to give one person the idea that last year was not so great for me. Actually, it was fine. I've re-read the posts for that year, and the few negatives I did express included the interminable wait for publication, (that's nothing new), a few ongoing problems with the car, and a few frustrations with the homeschooling. Other than that, the posts were positive, and my year was positive. (After all, I did most of the revision on the first Brenna book last year, and that rocked!) Nevertheless, I must have somehow managed to convey a different impression, though try as I might, I can't see it. That's why I try not to go into deeply personal issues on the blog; even the lesser ones are too easy to misinterpret, as I've seen happen far too many times with a couple other writers' blogs. At a certain point, the only response is to shrug and move on. Everyone has a frustrating day sometimes, but there's always a tomorrow, and that might be great. It's all about balance.

Yesterday I had some bad luck with getting the kids to their piano class on time, and then I forgot my phone at home and had to go back for it, wasting gas. I had to go to the bank to stop payment on a check that I wrote to my credit card company and that the Post Office then lost in the mail. Not only did the credit card company charge me $39.00 for a late fee, but the bank charged me $10.00 to stop the payment. Now, if I only posted that much of what happened, anyone might think that I'd had a completely rotten and negative day. But there was more to the story.

The bank teller actually thanked me for the humorous way in which I complained about the fee; she said that she wished all her frustrated customers handled things the way I did. She said handling this problem with me made up for all the other frustrated customers who didn't put any kind of a positive spin on their bad experiences. The rest of the errands went smoothly. Then today I went to pick up a ring that I'd sent out for repair, and the store clerk told me that there was no charge on the bill for the repair. They gave me my ring good as new and sent me on my way. After that, I was able to stop off at the B&N with the laptop, and wrote 5 1/2 pages on the WIP. The important thing to remember about passing frustrations--whether you're a writer or a reader--is that they are usually just as temporary as everything else in life. If either you or your favorite writer seems to be in a slump, don't worry. Like the weather, it's bound to change. The universe has a way of balancing things out, given half a chance.

Tea and Research

I'm doing lots of research for the new plot right now. I've been reading books out of a huge to-be-read pile, mostly on esoteric subjects, but also on things like travel writing and guides to locations in Ireland, etc. I also picked out a car for my main character. Not for real, of course. But I looked through the car ads in an online Irish newspaper for Brenna's car, and found one that I think would be just the type she'd probably lease and drive. It's a blue Ford Focus--midrange, cute and practical. I should probably go drive one now, I suppose....

I've nearly finished Chapter 2 of the new book. I've done most of my work with the laptop in coffee shops, although this sometimes attracts a chatty person who apparently thinks that if you're a red-haired female working on your laptop in a coffee shop, then you must either be his personal confessor or you are sitting there specifically to answer his questions about yourself. I don't mean that this is just one person in particular--Heaven forbid. But every now and then, I encounter someone like this, which is 1. flattering, 2. slightly annoying, and 3. a little creepy. This doesn't happen as much when I work in a restaurant, but the restaurant is more expensive. The library would be better and usually quieter, but my schedule doesn't always permit that. Oh, well. I'll get the work done regardless.

Shop-n-Write Evening

I'm about to start taking bellydance fusion classes in September. Fusion is a progressive and heavily disciplined style that I love to watch, but I'm not sure what my learning curve might be. I've been taking regular bellydance classes for nearly two years now, and since my early 20's I've taken scattered classes that ranged from bellydance to ballet, jazz and Irish dance. I'll have to see how the fusion goes. I went shopping today and came out of the store with five bras I can cover with coins or otherwise decorate for belly dance. Normally, that would have come under the category of Really Expensive, but in this case, they were marked down quite a bit at one of the stores that carries seconds and discontinued styles. Hopefully, they'll do for what I need.

After the shopping, I realized it was already too late at night for me to get much done with the kids and their schoolwork at home, so I decided to stop off at a restaurant and get some food and writing time all in one go. It was late enough that not too many other people were still at the T.G.I. Friday's, so I was seated all by myself in a quiet section. One hour, a plate of salad and a page and a half of the new Brenna book later, I had to go home, as the restaurant was closing. But the plan worked. I love it when I can accomplish two goals at once, even if it does cost me sixteen dollars and change. I can't do it too often, though, or I'll go broke just trying to get some writing done.

A Good Theory

Working at the library was a good idea--in theory. After a hectic week last week, we arrived at the library today ready to work. The older daughter had done her volunteer shift, and the younger one and I had run a couple of errands. We met at the library study area about a quarter after five. I then tried to get the kids set up working so I could commence writing. Predictably, the younger one needed some direction, and I found that she had not done any of her computer research this morning, and needed the internet in order to answer a couple of the questions for her Social Studies. So I had to let her use my laptop for a little while to get past one of the assignments. Working with her is very time-intensive. Then just as I was about to be able to write, I discovered that the older one had fallen asleep on top of the desk. I had to wake her and get her back to work, and then we had to go over all the ways she could complete her various unfinished Civics assignments using the internet instead of a newspaper, and that took up vast amounts of time. Finally, I let her have the laptop for a few minutes and went out to the truck to get a drink of water. When I came back, it was 7:20 and the library closes at 8:00. I opened my files for writing and the older girl came back after only 10 minutes on the library computer, saying the card had only let her have a half hour--which she had definitely not taken, according to the clock on my computer. I sent her back to try again and started to work on my WIP again. Then the Huz called to say the quiche was done, at least 20 minutes before the library was due to close, when I'd said we'd leave. So that's it. I give up. I wrote this blog at lightning speed and now I'm headed home, no more than one or two sentences to the good for this writing session.

Sigh. Sometimes the magic just doesn't happen.

The Pact

The Moxie have made a pact. Each of us is to get a minimum number of pages done each day and post the page number to our list. It's just a little something to make us accountable for our progress or lack of it. My personal quota is at least two pages a day, but preferably three. Yesterday I made my quota, finishing 3 3/4 pages (the last part of the last scene of Brigid's Forge, Chapter One). Blog posts do not count--only progress made on the current Work In Progress, or WIP.

Which means I need to stop blogging and playing with my new cell phone and get writing. Incidentally, the new phone is black and red and actually has a querty keyboard. So I can even use it to take notes or write a little if I get desperate when I'm out somewhere. I've been playing with it all evening, to get used to its features. Obviously, it's just a little too much fun, when I have my actual full-size computer and ergo keyboard right here in front of me. Enough playing. Must get to work....

Move Over, Shamu!

This (Friday) evening our belly dance troupe performed at a water park in Meridian. We had a bit less than 30 minutes, and our show was divided in half by a belly flop competition for the swimmers. Predictably, we lost over half our audience when the competition ended. Oh, well. We performed up on a concrete platform in front of a decoration that looked like waves. Several feet below us was a pool, where our audience bobbed up and down on little inner-tube-like floaties as they watched our show. It struck me that when people go to a marine park to watch the dolphins or whales, the people are up on the concrete bleachers and the entertainment is in the water. In this case, the entertainment was up on the concrete and the audience was in the water. Weird.

Another first was seeing my last name plastered across someone's butt. Granted, it was the Hurley athletic clothing line, not my name specifically, but still--it made me look. It was also a first to perform belly dance in front of an audience who was more scantily clad than we were!

See what kind of trouble I get up to without a publisher's contract to fulfill? Clearly, something needs to be done about this.

The Waiting Game

With as many irons as I have in the fire, you'd think a few would have grown hot by now, but I'm still playing the waiting game. There are a couple manuscripts out to test readers, and I'm waiting for feedback on those. The agent article to be posted isn't up yet; the site's owners are swamped, so might not get to it for a while. No word yet on any possible publishing contracts. One seminar and one convention aren't to take place until September and November, respectively. So...I wait. I'm not so much patient as I am resigned.

While waiting, I've performed my first belly dance solo, constructed some much-needed costume pieces, worked with the kids on the ever-present homeschool, read some other people's books, critiqued stuff for friends, and done research for the new Brenna book. And I've nearly completed the first chapter of the new book; some of it hinges on that research, so I'm working on writing even when I'm reading. A little teaser: Some of the books I'm reading now for research are about ley lines, astral projection, the nature of energy, black holes, and paranormal occurrences in Ireland.

Succubus Blues

I just finished reading Succubus Blues by Richelle Mead, whom I met at the PNWA conference. Briefly, the book is about a succubus named Georgina who has to take life energy from mortals in order to survive, but she isn't particularly happy about it, and it quite understandably wreaks havoc with her ability to love and be loved. What she'd really like is to be mortal again, but that just isn't in the cards right now. One of the few pleasures in her life is reading and escaping into stories, and where her favorite author, Seth Mortenson, is concerned, she's a total fangirl. When Seth moves to Seattle, Georgina is shocked and delighted, but then other immortals start stirring the pot...and all hell breaks loose.

This is a great read. It's written in first person, but Georgina is one of those characters who--in true succubus style--had me at hello, so the POV didn't matter to me. Richelle Mead's voice is fresh and compelling, her subject matter even more so. It's a delightful break from the usual vampires and werewolves, and gives a unique view into what life (or immortality) might be like from the "other" side of the tracks. Richelle did what a truly great author should do; she made me laugh, made me cry, and made me care. I'll be back for more.

Paranormality

I think we've finally hit on a way to accomplish homeschool and my writing at the same time. Up to now, the problem has been that the kids don't accomplish much when I'm not standing over them, and they get distracted on their computers at home with all their fun internet activities, etc. But I've recently found that if we leave the house and go to the library, we get a lot more done. With the laptop, I can actually write while the kids are doing schoolwork, and since they can only have two hours on the library computers, at least the older one is moving faster on her work. The younger one will get there too, I think, as soon as she gets used to the idea of "work" time vs anything time. And the library has lots of little desks about the right height for a laptop, plus plenty of outlets for plugging in--so I should be able to be a little more productive too. I'm working on the new Brenna book while I'm waiting for crits to come in on the last Oantra book.

This weekend I found out that Idaho has a group of...hmm...ghost trackers, for want of a better term. Check them out at their website. In September, they're doing a seminar on ghost hunting, and I've already decided that this comes under the heading of necessary research for the Brenna books. Sounds like it'll be a blast, and there might even be a ghost hunt in the offing. Nothing like field research, huh?

Flightless in Seattle

This morning, I was supposed to fly home from Seattle to Boise. I say supposed to because I missed my flight. My late-checked bag--the reason I didn't make the flight--actually got onto the plane and arrived home before me. Obviously, the next time I travel, I will make sure to allow two whole hours at the airport before departure.

I'm not an anxious flyer. I am an anxious pre-flyer. What that means is that I'm not scared to get on the dang plane and fly, I'm just scared that I'll miss my flight and get stranded somewhere. Or...I was scared of that. I'm not anymore. I missed a flight just this morning, and yet both I and my bags made it home just fine. The bag was on the flight I missed, and I was on the following flight four hours later. One swipe of the credit card and I was confirmed for a new flight. Silly me...I knew that if you missed one airplane, you'd eventually be able to catch another one. But the details of what you do when this happens were what made me anxious. "Help, I'm stranded! Whatever shall I do?" (Let me explain here that I'm not that helpless, but I hadn't flown anywhere since before 9-11, and I've only flown once before by myself--a direct flight from Boise to Spokane clear back in the very early 90's. Now I have a much better idea of what to do, of course.) But literally, I was ready to collapse when I found that my plane had left without me. I must have looked like some kind of wreck, and I know I felt like one. I need a private jet, so it can't leave without me when I'm late!

Now that the hypothetical disaster has happened, I'm not so worried about it. I wouldn't like it to happen again, but...I can handle it if it does. Where was my personal assistant when I needed her? Oh, yeah, that would be me. I am so fired.