"I wrote for twelve years and collected 250 rejection slips before getting any fiction published, so I guess outside reinforcement isn't all that important to me."
--Lisa Alther, author
Unlike Lisa, I'm all about reinforcement, both as the reinforcer and the reinforcee. Of course, there's the ABA approach to managing my kids' behaviors -- m&m, anyone? There's my piano teaching, too: the Suzuki method relies heavily on reinforcing small successes, very similar to ABA. And we all work for the reinforcement of a paycheck.
But a beginning freelancer doesn't get a big paycheck from anyone, so the reinforcers have to come in other ways. Certainly, a byline is better than an m&m, any day. And recognition from friends and colleagues feels wonderful, not to mention the occasional email response from a random reader, or a nibble from a new editor.
While the phone call from the magazine editor last week was wonderfully reinforcing, I've also been obsessing a little about it. I haven't heard anything more from her, despite my having sent her several story ideas and another complete submission within 24 hours after the call. I'm feeling slightly sad about it, even though I'm also telling myself that there's still hope; editors are very busy and I can follow up (gently) in a couple of days. But that hole I shot in my foot isn't getting any smaller.
So along with the obsessing comes the analyzing, and I've been wondering why I'm so panicked about this. Yes, it's a prestigious magazine, and yes, it has a huge readership. It pays very well and I will jump at the chance to be published there, if and when another chance comes. But the sun does not rise and set on this one publication. There are other books on the rack.
So I broke open my Writer's Market book yesterday, for the first time in months. Last August I had marked a few magazines I had in mind, but hadn't done anything about them because I didn't have very many clips. But now, I have quite a few published articles, and I'm thinking about putting out some feelers. And it might be a good time to do it, since I'm not drowning in assignments at the moment.
So today I will query a magazine or two, and hope that some reinforcement comes out of it eventually. And in the meantime, I'll be proud of myself for doing it. Maybe I'll even have an m&m.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Monday, January 7, 2008
Great weekend = bad weigh-in
"I had a great time getting fat."
-- Kirstie Alley
Oh, it was a wonderful weekend: dates, takeout chinese, fireplace time, pumpkin bread, writing, m&m's, singing, ice cream. And I gained. Only a tiny bit -- less than half a pound -- but this was the week I was going to bust out of the EZ (emergency zone) again and I didn't do it. Because I was having such a great time!
I've always thought of myself as an emotional eater, but tied my cravings for chocolate and carbs to negative emotions. Turns out that I eat whenever I'm feeling anything, including happiness.
I eat when I'm happy
I eat when I'm stressed
I eat when I'm joyful
and when I'm depressed
With so many feelings
that make me indulge
No wonder I'm waging
a war with the bulge
I'm no Kirstie Alley
I'm no Roseanne Barr
I don't think I'd let
myself go quite that far
But I'm tipping the scale
just too much to the right
I work out, and like it,
But try as I might,
The burn doesn't offset
the calories in.
I don't think I'm destined
to ever be thin.
***
I'm gonna stick with it
and try hard today,
and work out, and diet,
and finally, pray
for help on this journey
that's so very long.
O God, let my muscles
AND psyche be strong.
-- Kirstie Alley
Oh, it was a wonderful weekend: dates, takeout chinese, fireplace time, pumpkin bread, writing, m&m's, singing, ice cream. And I gained. Only a tiny bit -- less than half a pound -- but this was the week I was going to bust out of the EZ (emergency zone) again and I didn't do it. Because I was having such a great time!
I've always thought of myself as an emotional eater, but tied my cravings for chocolate and carbs to negative emotions. Turns out that I eat whenever I'm feeling anything, including happiness.
I eat when I'm happy
I eat when I'm stressed
I eat when I'm joyful
and when I'm depressed
With so many feelings
that make me indulge
No wonder I'm waging
a war with the bulge
I'm no Kirstie Alley
I'm no Roseanne Barr
I don't think I'd let
myself go quite that far
But I'm tipping the scale
just too much to the right
I work out, and like it,
But try as I might,
The burn doesn't offset
the calories in.
I don't think I'm destined
to ever be thin.
***
I'm gonna stick with it
and try hard today,
and work out, and diet,
and finally, pray
for help on this journey
that's so very long.
O God, let my muscles
AND psyche be strong.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Two dates and a name rant
I neglected to mention in my new year's post that Earl and I are reviving our date nights, which slipped by the wayside in December. I've decided that in addition to going out to dinner every other Saturday night, we will have at-home massage dates on the off weeks. We went out last Saturday, so last night it was time to break out the massage table.
A little background: last January we had a couples' massage with a twist: the massage therapist taught us how to practice her art on each other. It was great, and I was so inspired that when I saw a massage table at BJ's, complete with headrest, I sprung for it for Valentine's day.
We used it quite a bit at first, but it's been at least 6 months since we got it out of the case. When I informed Earl of my (unilateral) massage-date decision, he readily agreed, and the dear man set everything up in the family room after the kids were in bed last night. When I came downstairs, there was the massage table, all made up with flannel sheets and the electric blanket, candles casting a soft glow, fire crackling in the fireplace. Pure heaven.
We both were a little rusty, and poor Earl had to endure my icy-cold hands at first, but it was a wonderful, relaxing, bonding evening. Funny how an hour or so of focused attention with my husband makes me remember why I'm married in the first place.
And it's been a two-date weekend: we had on-demand movie night on Friday. We rented Waitress, which I really enjoyed, with one exception: the controlling, abusive, redneck husband's name was Earl. I think my husband has had an uphill battle his whole life with his name, and movies like that and shows like My Name is Earl only perpetuate the image of the unsophisticated, slightly stupid country bumpkin.
I have only known two Earls in my entire life: my husband and his cousin, for whom he was named. Said cousin is a professor at Brown University -- hardly a dim-witted hick. And my Earl is no slouch, either, even if it only occurred to him a few weeks ago, while looking at the first-quarter moon, why half-moon cookies are so named. Aside from astronomical baking references, he's really a very bright guy.
My Earl is a financial planner and classical musician who is very knowledgeable and passionate about special education. He's a terrific husband and father, general handyman, cook and CCD teacher. So fie on the unfortunate name, I say. He's the best massage date I know.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Hurry up and wait
Oh, timing is everything. And what timing isn't, patience must be.
Many, many months ago, I submitted a piece to a magazine for consideration. I never heard a peep, and a few months after I sent my submission, I noticed a blurb in the publication that said, in so many words, "no unsolicited manuscripts." Ah, well, I thought, and ended up sending that little piece to another, smaller publication, which published it. And everyone was happy.
Yesterday the magazine editor called me, wondering if the piece I sent last spring were still available for publication. The short answer is yes, of course the piece is still available, since I have no contract with the smaller publication and the publisher has made clear to me that freelancers own the copyright to their own works. But.
Things got a little sticky when the magazine editor started talking about the ins and outs of the publication, contract, rights retained by the author, etc. I felt that I had to tell the editor that while the piece was still very much available for publication, it had, in fact, been in print already. And the whole time I was saying this, I was glad that we keep no arms in the house, because I might be tempted to really shoot myself in the foot, instead of just figuratively.
Of course, the magazine editor wasn't as excited about publishing the piece when I told her it had been published already, albeit by a publication that could in no way be seen as a competitor to the magazine. I asked her what we could do, thinking maybe some legal language from the smaller publication might set the mag's mind at ease. That door, while still a bit ajar, seemed to be closing rapidly.
But the editor asked if I had anything else to send her, and also asked about other story ideas I might have. So I did send her something else (unpublished) and she responded right away to my email, saying that she would read it and was looking forward to my story ideas. This gives me reason to be hopeful that all may not be lost with this magazine.
As I get more into the realm of the published writer, I am seeing that while the writing part of things may come naturally and easily and be so darned much fun, getting published is a bit more complicated. I do believe that honesty is the best policy, and I'm glad that I told her. And I'm glad that it was printed in the smaller publication, because I really wanted to see it published. I guess I just wish I had known that it was under consideration by the magazine before I sent it to the other publication.
Everything happens for a reason, and even if nothing comes of this, at least I now have made contact with the magazine editor and have learned a couple of lessons:
1. Hearing nothing isn't necessarily rejection.
2. I need to be sure I'm comfortable with letting go of a potential opportunity with one publication before sending the same piece to another.
And, most excitingly, at least one magazine thought at least one thing I wrote was worthy of publication. I find that encouraging. Even if I do have a hole in my foot.
Many, many months ago, I submitted a piece to a magazine for consideration. I never heard a peep, and a few months after I sent my submission, I noticed a blurb in the publication that said, in so many words, "no unsolicited manuscripts." Ah, well, I thought, and ended up sending that little piece to another, smaller publication, which published it. And everyone was happy.
Yesterday the magazine editor called me, wondering if the piece I sent last spring were still available for publication. The short answer is yes, of course the piece is still available, since I have no contract with the smaller publication and the publisher has made clear to me that freelancers own the copyright to their own works. But.
Things got a little sticky when the magazine editor started talking about the ins and outs of the publication, contract, rights retained by the author, etc. I felt that I had to tell the editor that while the piece was still very much available for publication, it had, in fact, been in print already. And the whole time I was saying this, I was glad that we keep no arms in the house, because I might be tempted to really shoot myself in the foot, instead of just figuratively.
Of course, the magazine editor wasn't as excited about publishing the piece when I told her it had been published already, albeit by a publication that could in no way be seen as a competitor to the magazine. I asked her what we could do, thinking maybe some legal language from the smaller publication might set the mag's mind at ease. That door, while still a bit ajar, seemed to be closing rapidly.
But the editor asked if I had anything else to send her, and also asked about other story ideas I might have. So I did send her something else (unpublished) and she responded right away to my email, saying that she would read it and was looking forward to my story ideas. This gives me reason to be hopeful that all may not be lost with this magazine.
As I get more into the realm of the published writer, I am seeing that while the writing part of things may come naturally and easily and be so darned much fun, getting published is a bit more complicated. I do believe that honesty is the best policy, and I'm glad that I told her. And I'm glad that it was printed in the smaller publication, because I really wanted to see it published. I guess I just wish I had known that it was under consideration by the magazine before I sent it to the other publication.
Everything happens for a reason, and even if nothing comes of this, at least I now have made contact with the magazine editor and have learned a couple of lessons:
1. Hearing nothing isn't necessarily rejection.
2. I need to be sure I'm comfortable with letting go of a potential opportunity with one publication before sending the same piece to another.
And, most excitingly, at least one magazine thought at least one thing I wrote was worthy of publication. I find that encouraging. Even if I do have a hole in my foot.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Milton Times profile
I wrote a profile of Janet McCourt for the Milton Times. It's in today's issue, complete with beautiful photo of Janet (which she took, herself!)
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Vacation insights
It was a good school vacation. The past 11 days were mostly filled with good family time and holiday cheer. Of course, there was the usual psychodrama, too, but I'm happy to report that the good far outweighed the not-so-good.
The first few days, of course, were busy with preparation for Christmas. Cookie-making (and eating), gift-wrapping, menu-planning. I noticed Abby lining up toys for the first time in years. I questioned her and she didn't want to talk about it. Earl and I decided to keep an eye on it and see if it went away, and it did. I think she had some anxiety about Christmas, and somehow, that behavior helped her cope. She has also been spending a lot of time with a certain book she got for Christmas -- flipping through the pages, which in my mind is similar to lining up toys -- but the end for that is in sight, with her return to school today.
Of course, everyone caught colds, and the week after Christmas was one big sniffle. We're all on the mend, now, but I had to face a dilemma: drippy nose, or droopy kid? The cold medicine I use (and swear by) knocks my kids out, which is fine at night but not so useful during the day. Abby's occupational therapist commented on how tired Abby seemed, and no wonder, with her appointment in the morning of the day after Christmas, and her being drugged up with Benadryl. But she did some good work and was able to stay on task.
Abby and Brian's therapist saw all three kids together for a session on Thursday and again on Friday. She wants to help the kids learn to play better, and will be working with Brian and Timmy together for the next few weeks. It's hard work: cooperative play does not come naturally to anyone -- for Abby and Brian because of their diagnoses, and for Timmy because he's two! I imagine it's pretty hard work for the therapist, too.
After the session on Friday we took everyone out for dinner. The kids all ordered for themselves and everyone ate well, although we did have the endless parade to the rest room for the second half of dinner. No one threw up (thank you, God) although Abby and Timmy came close. It's getting easier to take everyone out together. Continued glimmers of normal family life.
I taught a few lessons on Friday and Earl took the kids to the Children's Museum in Easton. They had a lot of fun, but between the museum visit, the therapy and then going out to dinner, we had three little pumpkins that slept like rocks that night.
Abby had a playdate with her friend, T., and her sister, K., on Saturday. They are the nicest girls on the planet and I am so grateful that they enjoy Abby's company. The girls played together very well -- everything from beading to princesses to hopscotch (on an indoor hopscotch rug the kids got for Christmas from our friends Cheri and Steve.) I made brownies and they all enjoyed a snack and then it was time for them to go. I observed a lot of good verbal and social interaction on Abby's part, and Brian's, too, for that matter.
And then, after the girls left...it was very interesting. Abby had a little "off" time. Earl said he observed her "spazzing out," for lack of a better word -- she did a lot of jumping and complex movements with her arms and hands. And it got me thinking: being "on" socially for two hours is HARD for Abby. She did just great -- I described it to Earl as being "darned close to normal" -- but it took a lot out of her. Abby's therapist has been telling me this for months, but it really hit home when I noticed how she had to engage in some atypical behaviors when the playdate was over.
Playing and interacting with friends must be as difficult for Abby as making social small talk at cocktail parties is for me. (Oh, how I hate the cocktail party! I felt a tsunami of relief when Earl told me his office was not having a holiday party this year.) Of course, the difference is that I can avoid situations of forced social chitchat and still lead a full life, but Abby cannot avoid playing and conversing with friends with the same result.
And so this school vacation was a bit of a laboratory setting for me, observing behaviors, conjecturing causes, making decisions about what to do, and ultimately, growing in compassion. Yes, some of my kids' behaviors can be mystifying and difficult. But I have a new understanding about some of the reasons behind the behaviors, and that helps me strategize about how to work with the kids. And about how to cope.
The first few days, of course, were busy with preparation for Christmas. Cookie-making (and eating), gift-wrapping, menu-planning. I noticed Abby lining up toys for the first time in years. I questioned her and she didn't want to talk about it. Earl and I decided to keep an eye on it and see if it went away, and it did. I think she had some anxiety about Christmas, and somehow, that behavior helped her cope. She has also been spending a lot of time with a certain book she got for Christmas -- flipping through the pages, which in my mind is similar to lining up toys -- but the end for that is in sight, with her return to school today.
Of course, everyone caught colds, and the week after Christmas was one big sniffle. We're all on the mend, now, but I had to face a dilemma: drippy nose, or droopy kid? The cold medicine I use (and swear by) knocks my kids out, which is fine at night but not so useful during the day. Abby's occupational therapist commented on how tired Abby seemed, and no wonder, with her appointment in the morning of the day after Christmas, and her being drugged up with Benadryl. But she did some good work and was able to stay on task.
Abby and Brian's therapist saw all three kids together for a session on Thursday and again on Friday. She wants to help the kids learn to play better, and will be working with Brian and Timmy together for the next few weeks. It's hard work: cooperative play does not come naturally to anyone -- for Abby and Brian because of their diagnoses, and for Timmy because he's two! I imagine it's pretty hard work for the therapist, too.
After the session on Friday we took everyone out for dinner. The kids all ordered for themselves and everyone ate well, although we did have the endless parade to the rest room for the second half of dinner. No one threw up (thank you, God) although Abby and Timmy came close. It's getting easier to take everyone out together. Continued glimmers of normal family life.
I taught a few lessons on Friday and Earl took the kids to the Children's Museum in Easton. They had a lot of fun, but between the museum visit, the therapy and then going out to dinner, we had three little pumpkins that slept like rocks that night.
Abby had a playdate with her friend, T., and her sister, K., on Saturday. They are the nicest girls on the planet and I am so grateful that they enjoy Abby's company. The girls played together very well -- everything from beading to princesses to hopscotch (on an indoor hopscotch rug the kids got for Christmas from our friends Cheri and Steve.) I made brownies and they all enjoyed a snack and then it was time for them to go. I observed a lot of good verbal and social interaction on Abby's part, and Brian's, too, for that matter.
And then, after the girls left...it was very interesting. Abby had a little "off" time. Earl said he observed her "spazzing out," for lack of a better word -- she did a lot of jumping and complex movements with her arms and hands. And it got me thinking: being "on" socially for two hours is HARD for Abby. She did just great -- I described it to Earl as being "darned close to normal" -- but it took a lot out of her. Abby's therapist has been telling me this for months, but it really hit home when I noticed how she had to engage in some atypical behaviors when the playdate was over.
Playing and interacting with friends must be as difficult for Abby as making social small talk at cocktail parties is for me. (Oh, how I hate the cocktail party! I felt a tsunami of relief when Earl told me his office was not having a holiday party this year.) Of course, the difference is that I can avoid situations of forced social chitchat and still lead a full life, but Abby cannot avoid playing and conversing with friends with the same result.
And so this school vacation was a bit of a laboratory setting for me, observing behaviors, conjecturing causes, making decisions about what to do, and ultimately, growing in compassion. Yes, some of my kids' behaviors can be mystifying and difficult. But I have a new understanding about some of the reasons behind the behaviors, and that helps me strategize about how to work with the kids. And about how to cope.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Happy New Year!
My holi-daze has almost lifted; it's a new year. A new beginning, a fresh start. I slept blissfully through the changing of the calendar last night and awoke ready to tackle the next 366 days, albeit one at a time.
I didn't succeed in keeping my resolution for 2007, which was to get to a certain weight and maintain it. In fact, I missed it by several pounds. But the resolution is a good one, and I still have a few pounds to go, so I'm making the same resolution for 2008.
The magic number is about 8 pounds away (yes, I did put on some Christmas-cookie-and-fudge weight, but it was a yummy couple of weeks.) That weight will give me a body mass index of 23, a healthy goal.
So I'm starting over again...tomorrow. Today it's still the holidays, and there is more pumpkin bread to be eaten. Plus champagne to be drunk, as our celebratory bottle of bubbly stayed in the fridge last night because I've been battling a cold for the past few days and didn't feel like having any.
I'll drink a toast tonight after the kids are in bed, to my plans for this year:
I didn't succeed in keeping my resolution for 2007, which was to get to a certain weight and maintain it. In fact, I missed it by several pounds. But the resolution is a good one, and I still have a few pounds to go, so I'm making the same resolution for 2008.
The magic number is about 8 pounds away (yes, I did put on some Christmas-cookie-and-fudge weight, but it was a yummy couple of weeks.) That weight will give me a body mass index of 23, a healthy goal.
So I'm starting over again...tomorrow. Today it's still the holidays, and there is more pumpkin bread to be eaten. Plus champagne to be drunk, as our celebratory bottle of bubbly stayed in the fridge last night because I've been battling a cold for the past few days and didn't feel like having any.
I'll drink a toast tonight after the kids are in bed, to my plans for this year:
- a healthy weight,
- more writing, and
- praying every day.
What are you toasting on this first day of 2008?
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