Kaylee Baldwin's Blog, page 12

See anything missing?

Look at the bears closely. Now do you see it?


The eyes.
I crocheted this afghan for my four year old—just finished it about a month ago, actually. It took me a year and a half to finish. Well, almost finish.
The eyes are a pain. They are supposed to be French knots, so I had a friend come and teach me how to tie French knots. I did an experimental bear, and 2/3 of my children had pulled the eyes out in less than five minutes.
Buttons: My kids would choke. The odds just swing that way for us.Yarn Xs: The bears looked dead. It was totally morbid.Yarn circles: a huge pain—they looked more like squares and were funky.Felt circles: Not sure how I'd attach them so they don't fall off.
I don't have a ton of motivation to figure it out. My son doesn't care. He loves it without the eyes. He's been waiting 18 months for this blanket. He's just excited to have it. So in my book, it's done. He's happy. I'm happy-ish. Moving on to the next blanket (a lion blanket) for my six-year-old.
I am not this blasé in all areas of my life. Maybe I'm just sick of this afghan or maybe my son's excitement outweighed any OCD perfectionism tendencies that I might have had about it. I know with my writing, I always try to curb my tendency to lean toward perfectionism. I don't want to perfectionize the voice right out of my writing. I go through and want to make sure all of my scenes have their "eyes" in place, but sometimes it's the lack of eyes that makes something interesting.
And sometimes we just tell ourselves that when we're feeling lazy. J
Are you a perfectionist when it comes to life? To writing?

For the Love of Contemporary

[image error]A few weeks ago, my friend Jolene Perry told me about this really fun, super ambitious project that her and Kelley Vitollo were working on: A blog dedicated completely to contemporary YA fiction.

I love contemporary YA.

So when Jolene and Kelley asked me if I wanted to be a part of their new blog, I was seriously excited. Probably too excited. In fact, it's amazing Kelley hasn't blocked me from the group email based on the long, mostly irrelevant emails I've been sending (Jolene is used to these, so I'm sure it doesn't faze her.)

But I guess they're okay with my tendency to say a short story long, because Jolene, Kelley, Stephanie Campbell, Kelley York, and I have been cranking away, setting up a lot of really cool things:

Interviews and guest posts from Sarah Ockler, Tara Kelley and more
Giveaways (first one in September)
Contests
Fab indie book reviews
Reviews of any YA contemp we can get our hands on and just love
Lots of teen participation (reviews, stories, guest posts)
Our favorite literary crushes
Delving into social issues
And so much more!! This has been a seriously fun project to be involved with.

The official launch is September 1st and we are going to be giving away loads of YA books.

So come here, check it out, and become a follower.

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Borrow or Buy?

I love going to the library.
I've already been there twice this week. It's close, cool, and comfortable (the three c's you need fo a small town AZ summer)

Here is why I love the library:
1) It's free.
2) The librarians are great and do a really fun reading time.
3) My kids can check out twenty books a week.
4) If I check something out that I hate, I can just take it back.
5) We have a pretty decent YA section/New Release section

I also love the bookstore.
I've somehow convinced my husband on our last two dates to "drop in" to the bookstore (meaning, stay there an hour or more.)
I can't go into a bookstore without buying at least one book for myself, and my kids, and my husband.

Here is why I love buying books:
1) I get to have that book forever to read and reread again.
2) I can loan it out to all of my friends.
3) I can mark it up if I feel so inclined.
4) When I have a hard time sleeping, I love looking at all the books in my bookcase (its against the wall next to our bed, together my husband and I have over 500 books)and for some reason it's comforting to me--don't ask me why.
5) I feel like I'm helping support authors I love.

So which do you prefer? Do you like to check most of your books out at the library or do you buy most of what you read? And why?

It Is Really, Really Hot

My air conditioner broke today and the guy can't come out until tomorrow.

It is hot in my house.

Really, really hot.

Like I'm blogging at 11pm because it's too hot to sleep, hot.

Like I'm emailing all of my writing friends at 11pm to see if they are awake also, hot. (Because, let's face it, writers keep really weird hours and are probably the only people I know who stay up really late on week nights.)

I really wanted to work on my wip tonight, but kept getting distracted. Emails from friends, two separate school functions, broken air conditioning units, phone calls from two different family members and a friend (a saint friend who made me dinner.)

And I'm at this really great place in my wip that I'm really excited to write and where all the fun stuff and kissing (yes, kissing) is about to happen, and I can not find time to sit at the computer and write (well, except this blog post...)

Do you ever have those days when you are dying to work on something, but just can't seem to make it to the computer?

Dog lovers will hate me, but...

I really shouldn't even write this post. And the only reason why I am doing this is because the person who owns the dog I'm going to tell you about doesn't read this blog. I think she doesn't read it. If she does, then I am very, very sorry.

So my friend called and asked me if I could:

a) come over and let her dog out of the kennel (Jack Russel Terrier--there's a huge possibility I just made this kind of dog up, but I think that's what she said--and if that statement doesn't tell you how much I don't know about dogs, nothing will.)

b) Take the dog into the backyard so that it can do it's business

c) Put the dog back in the kennel.

Oh--and her dog will probably be really excited to see me.

So I asked her, "When the dog is done with it's business, do I just open the kennel door and it'll go back inside?" There was a long pause after I said this, while she probably (rightfully) second guessed asking me to help, and she told me that I'd have to pick the dog up and put it in the kennel.

Pick the dog up??? I kind of had an freak out moment on the inside, but I'd already said I'd do it, and I am a committer almost to a fault, so I told her it'd go great, and to go out of town, no worries.

Then I spent the rest of the afternoon convincing myself that I was a dog person (despite my past of disliking/being deathly afraid of dogs.) My friend Kathy has a five year old chocolate lab that we go on walks with every day. I love that dog. Never mind that when I water her plants when she goes out of town, I have to pep talk myself into going into her house and always call out to the dog first thing so that she doesn't attack me (she's never attacked a person in her life, and she loves me, but I still get freaked). And my friend Dee has an adorable little Yorkie that I hold and even let lick in the air in front of my face (not quite there for face licking just in case she turns crazy and bites my lips off). So I am a dog person, in some select instances.

4pm rolled around and I loaded my kids in the car to drive them around the corner (it was too hot to walk) and I went into the house where the dog was going crazy jumping everywhere and yapping. I gave it the treat--which it rejected--and got it out and slapped the leash on it really quick.

I took it out front yard...but it would not go to the bathroom.

So I took it in the backyard...but it would not go to the bathroom.

I thought the leash might be killing it's mojo, so I took the leash off and went inside. But the dog followed me inside, darted past me, and ran through the front door that I had (stupidly) left open. So I was standing there with this stupid empty leash, kind of shocked, watching this dog that is like my friend's child, run away. And here's the thing--in case you hadn't noticed yet--I don't know the dog's name, I don't know the gender, and I'm kind of hazy of what kind of dog it is in the first place. So I didn't know what to call out to get the dog to come back.

I ran out front in a smidge of a panic, and started yelling, "Here, dog! Here, dog!" and patting my legs to get it to come. It came running and me full force, so I turned and ran back in the house, and it started jumping all over me and tasting my legs, and scratching me all up--and only people who are afraid of dogs can understand how much this kind of thing can freak a person out. So I pushed it into the backyard while I took a moment to get my panicked breathing back to normal.

At this point, I didn't even care if it went to the bathroom or not. I needed to get out of there. I was all alone with this dog, and I was getting frustrated, and kind of wanting to cry (because that's my emotion overload default response), so I opened the back door and the dog came running back in. I opened the kennel door and told it to get in, but it wouldn't.

And here's the other thing, I was afraid of raising my voice, because I worried that it would be like an invitation to attack, so I was talking to the dog like you'd talk to a six month old baby--all high pitched and happy and smiley, but I was saying, "Get in your crate you stupid dog. I kind of hate you right now. Get in before I scream." And it kept opening it's mouth all the way, showing me all it's teeth, and it kind of reminded me of my trip to Louisiana and all of the alligators. So I steeled my courage, grabbed the collar, and dragged it into the kennel.

And it escaped before I could shut the door.

So I had to grab it again (and now it thinks we're playing all rough or something and it trying to gnaw on my arm) and I drag it back to the kennel, slam the door shut, tell it goodbye (in my nice voice) and leave. My hands were shaking when I got to the car.

Does anyone else have delusions about their abilities sometimes?

This is a common theme in my life. Somehow I convince myself that I can do things--even when prior experience has told me that I can't. I guess I'm the hopeless optimist (I have to be to keep sending out query letters, but that is another story.)

Overheard Conversation

I took my son to the doctor this afternoon and overheard this conversation between two women and I HAVE to share it. I have to idea what they were talking about my my imagination has kind of been going while all afternoon.

Woman #1: I just got back from the sauna retreat.
Woman #2: What did you think?
#1: It was really intense.
#2: Yeah, they are really intense, but very spiritual, too.
#1: I know what you mean, but intense.
#2: We had a retreat a few weeks ago and you'll never believe who (garbled name) invited.
#1: Who?
#2: Well you know we don't invite ANYONE in law enforcement, lawyers, judges, or anything like that.
#1: Or prostitutes. We don't invite prostitutes either. (by the way, my ears totally perked up at the word prostitute, and I didn't even pretend like I was reading my book anymore)
#2: Yeah, no prostitutes. Well, (garbled name) invited a parole officer!
#1: NO! What happened?
#2: Well, everything was fine the first day, but then the second day we did (her voice was too low for me to hear what they did, dang it!) and he started questioning things.

And then the doctor called her back! I was going "No!!!!!!" in my head because I needed to hear more about what kind of lives these women live.

But, no worries about me being bored. The other lady in the waiting room took the silence as an opportunity to tell me about how her husband just sold their house out from under her and forcing them to move to Oklahoma (they are moving next week), for no reason at all, because neither of them have jobs--totally venting to me! But we got called back before I could dive further into that.

I love doctor's office waiting rooms sometimes. We are in them a LOT (my oldest has a ton of health problems) and the things I've overheard.... Although, this sauna thing was the most intriguing conversation of all.

Have you ever overheard something juicy? Do these conversations ever make it into your books?

Someday I'll Be A Beautiful Butterfly and Everything Will Be Better

This quote from A Bug's Life is a common theme among writers (and my children.)

 For the past several weeks, my four-year-old has been on this "When I turn five..." kick. I've heard him say:

When I turn five, then I can read.
When I turn five, then I can watch Harry Potter (this is not true, but for some reason he thinks it is.)
When I turn five, then I will be big and strong.
When I turn five, then I will have so much fun.

And I can't help but wonder: What's so bad about being four? He's built up five-years-old in his mind to be this amazing age where all of his dreams are going to come true. I can't help but laugh every time he gets this dreamy look on his face, and I know he's about to tell me about something else he'll be able to do when he's five. (By the way, he doesn't turn five until March.)

But, maybe I'm as bad as he is. I remember saying, "When I get published..."
a) I'll feel validated for all of my hard work
b) I'll know I'm a good writer
c) I'll be so happy
d) I'll never doubt my writing again

Now I say, "When I get an agent..."
(Fill in the blank with a, b, c, or d from above.)

I know there are others out there that feel the same way, who think the same things. I worry that we're missing the joy of the journey and the joy of just writing because we love to write. When writing becomes less of an escape and more of a business, I'm afraid we're cheating ourselves of the very reason we started writing in the first place. Not that I don't think that being published is great. Not that I wouldn't LOVE to have an agent. But what if the focus shifted off of how happy I'll be when that happens, to being happy with where I'm at right now?

If we're too busy wishing we are somewhere else, then we're missing how great life can be where we're at. I still think we should be working toward our goals of getting an agent or getting published or whatever our personal writing goals are, but we need to find contentment in that journey. And never, ever forget why we began writing in the first place.

How My Stories Start

I love writing. I love when I sit down and these characters come into my head and I have to tell their story.

For me, my stories start with the characters. Always.

With Meg's Melody, it all started with Meg and the fact that her husband had left her. That's it. There wasn't a Matt a Johnny or a pregnancy or issues with her Mom or any of that fleshed out in my mind yet. It started with a girl who was really sad (and kind of bitter) because her husband just left. My first draft of Meg's Melody was all in first person. I LOVED it, but felt like Matt needed to be fleshed out a little more. So, for kicks, I decided to write his side of the story from his pov. I liked it so much and felt it added to the story, so I had to merge the two story lines together. I've wondered sometimes how the first person version would have been received. It was a little funnier and Meg was quite a bit quirkier. A lot of that was lost when I went to third person, but I really think I gained by having Matt's story in there, too.

For Falling (I know, I know, most of you haven't read Falling yet, but it's on my mind so much I have to blog about it) my story began one night when my husband was out of town and I was supposed to be doing edits on Meg's Melody, but I needed a break. I opened up a new document because I had this girl saying to me, "My brother didn't die in the accident, but sometimes I wish he would have." And I had to ask myself: What accident? If he didn't die, what happened to him? And why does she wish he was dead? The first draft of this story was really depressing (by the way, no one has read any of my first drafts except for me. From first draft to second draft is extremely different--which is why no one gets to read them!) so I had to go through and give Brenna some lighter moments here and there. It's still a very serious book, but there are a lot more lighter moments that her voice originally led me to believe there could be.

Then there's my YA wip about kissing. And friendship. Two of my favorite things to talk about when I was a teen. But the story idea started with this girl named Chole who has to be in charge all the time--her voice just came through as snarky and spunky and kind of controlling. I love Chloe. She's the spunkiest character I've ever written and she doesn't let anyone get away with anything. This is the one that I'm actively working on and having so much fun with it.

(I'm also working on another LDS one. I'll post more about that one later. Also so much fun.)

I know I've said this before, but characters are where it's at for me. If I love the character I'm writing, then I'm loving my writing and having so much fun doing it.

I'm always curious about how other people start their stories.
Do you have to have the entire idea for your plot and where you're going before you start a story? Or do you just start with a character that starts saying crazy crap and go from there?
Or is there some other method unique to you?

Withdrawals

I live in Small Town, Arizona where we only have one option for Internet. (Cox, how I hate and love you at the same time).

There was an Internet outage in our area yesterday and I was going through some serious email/blog/FB withdrawals. I'm one of those people who don't have Internet on my phone ( I still have a flip phone, our television is from when my husband was a teenager, and our laptop is a refurbished castoff from his work--all this not because we don't love technology, but because our kids, bless their hearts, are destructive. And as under-functional as these old electronics are, they hold up well under sticky fingers and drool.) Anyway, I didn't have Internet for over 24 hours. (Until I remembered the 3G access on my Kindle, but it was such a pain to write an email, I gave up.) (Also, it's kind of telling that the newest electronic we have is a Kindle--you see where my priorities are.)

Also, sickness has decided to pay a visit at the Baldwin home, so I probably shouldn't be putting anything out there on my blog today, having only eaten a handful of crackers and some toast in two days, but here I am. Relishing the Internet, just because I can. (And writing a lot of asides and tangents, just because I can.)

Okay, back to the couch to cuddle with my little cuties and watch a movie.

In which I have delusions about my abilities

Cabin fever.

We have a serious case of it over here at the Baldwin home.

It is over 100 degrees outside with the relentlessly bright sun killing everything in our yard, and me and my three extremely fair skinned children can't go out in that without paying a price.

So I took them to McDonalds last week to play in the indoor playplace. My oldest set off the alarm, tried to do it two more times, threw his shoes at people, knocked trays off the table, tried to run off, the decided to top it all of by screaming, screaming, screaming, until I could gather his scattered shoes, my other kids and their shoes, and drag all three out to the car (fyi, people glare at you if your kids decide to go limp on said walk and you literally drag them a few feet until they stand up--using their perfectly healthy legs God gave them for a reason). I think people actually cheered when we left.

So McDonald's is out for the rest of summer.

And pretty much any public place, since I want to keep my sanity.

So a friend of mine suggested we set up a tent in the house for the kids to play in. Great idea. Awesome idea, in fact.

And, although I'm not a camper, my husband is, so we have seven tents, I believe. (Don't ask me why a family of five that has only gone camping together TWICE has seven tents.) I picked the red one because I like the color red, and started to set it up.

What followed was the most frustrating venture with a tent that has four stupid poles that I had to stretch out and put in the right holes and then keep the tent from collapsing. Right when I was in the middle of the most frustrating part (where if I were a swearing kind of gal, there would have been words flying) my little sister called.

When I told her what I was doing, she just laughed and laughed and asked me, "Kaylee, do you not remember that you are not a camper."

"You shouldn't have to be a camper to know how to put up a tent," I replied, holding the phone between my ear and my shoulder because I was still trying to keep the stupid tent up (my kids had prematurely crawled inside of it, so I couldn't let it collapse.)

I finally ghetto-rigged it up (really, it was more "up-ish," but I was done.) My husband took one look at it when he got home and just started laughing. He then pulled it apart (saying, "How in the heck did you get the poles to go like this?) and showed me how to do it. Then informed me that I picked the hardest tent we have to set up. That's what I get for choosing because of color.

So my kids had fun and that's all that really matters.

We still have three and a half weeks of summer and I want us to have FUN!

Do you have any fun, indoor activity ideas I can do with my children?