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Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Caesar Rodney High School Concert Band

Wednesday, December 14, 2011.

Bari Sax Solo

May, 2011. First ever solo, end of Freshman year. Jazz concert. His solo starts around the 8 minute mark.

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch Bari Sax Feature

My boy and his feature. SO PROUD!

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

We have been on this journey for several years. The soccer rockstar has had a passion for the game since kinderkickers...5 years old and he was already a standout on the field. It was so much fun to watch him play offense and defense while other kids were picking dandelions. Simply amazing.

We were finally able to try out for the travel team at U9. I had been approached by a few parents (who were former players themselves) with regards to Chris attending tryouts. The only thing I knew about the rep program was that two years prior, my oldest was eligible but he lost interest. So we attended the tryouts and he made the team, later named CDSA FIRE. The connections he made through this program are a blessing. These boys (now U14) have been playing together for 5 years. Some have come and some have gone, but they will always have that bond. It stays with you for a long time.

Last year, at U13, the boys made it to Regionals after capturing the State Championship title. July 12, 2011 an article was written about Christopher prior to their trip up north for regionals. (I found this article in October.) 
Chris McPoyle, Central Delaware SA Fire (DE), U13, Forward:Chris scored 5 goals in 5 games during CDSA Fire's run to the U13 Delaware State Cup. The most important goal was the game winner midway through the second half of the championship game. After scoring the eventual game winner, Chris dropped back to defense to provide extra support helping his team to win its first State Championship.
Talk about blown away. I was speechless, while emailing the link to everyone I knew. We went on to be defeated in all three games at regionals, typical for the small state we come from. (Larger populations produce a player pool 10 times the size of exaggeration. Baltimore area tryouts bring up to 300 hopefuls where our area maybe gets 30.) But we played hard and we played to the end and we want to go back!

Chris was interviewed by the State Newspaper. This is what they posted:
The players were taking the coach’s message to heart and were upbeat after a loss to a team that went on to the U-13 Boys championship game.
“It was a great challenge for us because we’re not used to playing kids our age that are better than we are,” Fire forward Chris McPoyle said. “This should make us a lot better.”
After the newspaper interview, which dad and I were not a part of, Coach told us he was impressed with Chris' quote and hoped they used it word for word in the article. Even the reporter asked him if he was sure he was only 13.

Fast forward to summertime, mom is searching high and low for a soccer camp to take the first step in getting him seen. DC United. Philadelphia Union. All unattainable given the late search. However, we did have the opportunity to attend our first MLS match in Philly. The look on my boy's face when we walked into the stadium was priceless. His mantra during the entire game... "I need to be down there. I should be down there." And that's what we're going to give him. His dream.

During the Fall season we faced a lot of tough competition due to our State Champion title. That afforded us the opportunity to jump up a bracket in competition level. The boys worked hard. Sometimes they were successful, sometimes not. During one of our less successful games we traveled to Maryland. And took a pretty good loss. In the midst of all of that, Chris was grabbing the attention we are seeking. Both coaches from the other team (who beat us by a painful 6-0) spoke to Chris after the game. Where are we from? How far away is that? Are you on the State Team? (They were trying to recruit him!) One of the men even went so far as to ask Chris his name, and told him he would "remember" him...and that he'd be seeing more of him in the future. (MOMSQUEALS) The other told Chris he's one of the best players he'd seen in years. And that's nothing to sneeze at...this team that beat us so badly from MD...they are from a club that was formed by DC United professionals! Check them out here (MOMSQUEAL)

During the fall season we also packed in school soccer games. 11 of them to be exact. Chris scored 19 goals in those 11 games. During the Fall banquet his coach had some wonderful words to say about him. Everyone was called alphabetically by grade to get their medals...Chris was skipped. He was selected as MVP (for the second year in a row!)and was called last. The coach said, "he started in 6th grade, he started in 7th grade, and in 8th grade, he was just beast! He's definitely looking at a college scholarship." (FYI:previously UNHEARD OF accomplishment...starting varsity in 6th grade)

Fast forward...I got a message from our coach. Chris and two of his teammates were hand selected to play on a "dream team" tournament team. Based on what this coach had seen from his performance in the past, Chris was offered a position on this team which will be in 2-3 tournaments over the next several months. Our first weekend tournament is in NC in January! This tournament team plays venues that will provide even more exposure. Fast forward again, we try out for ODP. Two tryout dates. Both WAY cold. Chris was very hard on himself after the second day. First tryout was at home. Second weekend was 45 minutes away, and it only lasted for 45 minutes. It was brutally cold that day, but we were there. And then we waited. And today, I got the official notification:

Dear Christopher McPoyle:
Congratulations! You have been selected to participate in the Olympic Development Program (ODP) for the 2011-2012 season. This is a very special honor! By agreeing to participate, you will represent your state in activities designed to identify prospects for our Regional, Olympic and National teams, as well as for various colleges teams throughout the country.
There are no words that could adequately describe my joy. My pride. My desires. This is the first step in a long journey that will be his future. OUR future, because after all, there is nothing a mother wants more than to see her children achieve their dream...9 years and counting for this one...more than half his life.

Friday, August 5, 2011

This is me.

This is who I am. What this means as a mom varies on the level of your child's dedication. I have two boys who travel; one is U14 this year (currently STATE CHAMPIONS!) and one rejoins his old team as U12. Both boys will play for the middle school team as well, which requires practice 3 days a week with games the other 2. Then we practice 2 evenings a week for travel with games as far away as two hours on weekends. And oh yeah, there are tournaments over every holiday. And I love every minute of it.

What this means for me as a writer...I spend a LOT of time in my car. Waiting. I decided three years ago to put that down time to good use. I was armed with my notebook, mechanical pencils galore, a very large coffee and some wild ideas about the whole thing. I wrote a pretty intense prologue (which was eventually hacked and chopped to pieces) and walked in the house immediately after practice and did a Google search on "warrior princess". (Go ahead, do it. You know you want to.) The ideas sprang to life from the research. They wrote themselves. The story was there, on the internet, in tiny bits and pieces, spread all over the globe. All I had to do was weave them together in such a way as to do them justice. And I failed.

Oh, I did finish the first draft. And I absolutely adore the main characters. And, although I am still in love with the story (I did post chapter 1 here on my blog), it still sits unfinished. Every now and then I hear Shivari whisper to me. (He is very needy sometimes) Unfortunately, HIS story, the second book in the series, is more compelling, and as of yet, unwritten. And I have moved on to another idea that has been plucking at the back of my mind since January. (I posted that first chapter also, FYI). There is so much to be written but there are so few moments in which to write. In addition to all the writing, there is still so much to LEARN about fine tuning the craft. I could literally spend hours pouring over the internet doing research. (and I have)

So for now I remain in the very deep and dark canyon that is writing. With each new achievement, I get one step closer to daylight. Use your moments. Every single one of them. There is no greater feeling than that of accomplishment. I will be there one day. One strong foothold at a time and I will see my goals become reality.

Just like my state champion.

What are your moments? Where are you when you take 5 or 10 minutes to make notes, research or write new words?

Monday, August 1, 2011

What I hope to accomplish

There are a lot of goals on my plate. Happy /healthy kids. Happy husband. Good, strong members of society. My oldest is a musician. #2 is a soccer player. They both have huge goals for the future. These are things you will see me talk about...OFTEN.

But, one thing I forgot about a way long time ago...happy mama. I used to be all about the kids when they were younger. Exclusively. When they were younger...and they needed me more. Along with age came more mommy freedoms. And I started writing. Three years ago I started my first novel. It still isn't finished. And then I started the sequel to the first. And then life happened. In January I started a new idea, which has been my focus lately. So, I will also be writing a lot about...well...writing. Or at least my journeys in learning all I can about the writing process. Everyone has their own process, and there is so much to learn, it'll take a while before I feel comfortable doing anything with the words. Nonetheless, it's my time. My ME time.

So, I ask you...what is YOUR me time? What are you doing for you? More importantly, what are you LEARNING? Because life is to be lived, and stuff is meant to be learned.

Welcome to the new beginning

Hello first Monday in August.
I am here to officially reintroduce myself to the blogosphere.

I haven't been completely faithful and I'd like that to change. There are a lot of things that have been happening in my life this summer, but the one thing that I've been missing is my communication with the internet. Yes, I Facebook. Yes, I Tweet. And I've even explored the G+.
What I miss the most is my old message board. Several years ago, I stumbled upon a message board while Google searching the show Extreme Home Makeover. I found the message board and never found the intended post. I did, however, find an amazing group of friends. I have been fortunate enough to meet several of my imaginary friends IRL and I am grateful for their friendship. I have done the same on Twitter and Facebook, and that is my intention wherever I surf. So I'm reaching out to you, my potential new imaginary friends turned IRL friends. Say hello, come and see me sometime.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Another Chapter 1-The Seven Steps

Chapter 1: Alone

An uneasy feeling hovered over me all day.

I was never the kind of girl who frightened easily, but today was different. Something was wrong. I was edgy from the moment I woke up. Distress occupied my every thought and I wondered where Hell had frozen over. I moved apprehensively through my work day and the bad vibes intensified with every passing hour. Even the short, three block trip home from work took longer than normal. I walked slowly, alert to every sound and movement around me. Once in the safety of my own home, the anxiety persisted despite my best attempts to relax. I tried everything: reading, my favorite music, aromatherapy. Nothing eased the feeling that something terrible lingered close by, not even a third glass of wine. As I prepared for bed, the knot in my stomach roared warnings that someone watched. I lived my entire life guided by my instincts and they always served me well, so I crawled out of bed and checked the deadbolt. After finding the door locked for a second time, I tried to convince myself I was being crazy. That theory wasn’t cutting it. I was alone in my dark bedroom but invisible eyes definitely burned holes through me. Exhaustion finally overcame paranoia and I succumbed to a restless sleep, but only after memorizing the shapes created by the moonlit shadows falling on my wall.

My body lay dormant but my mind remained edgy, leaping from one erratic dream to the next. They started as harmless and bizarre: shapes and colors swirled together like a drug cocktail gone bad. When the shapes focused, they formed a clear and distinct picture. I stood alone in the woods when a massive grizzly bear appeared in a small clearing among the trees. It reared upright and pawed the air in my direction, poised to attack. Dangerous teeth stood at the ready to shred whatever predator would become a threat. The creature growled fiercely for one moment. As I looked into its eyes, the snarling suddenly ceased, and a feeling of despair began to flow from the colossal animal. It stood vulnerable and unprotected from its normal habitat among the trees. Despite its strength and power, the bear wept silent tears of grief, suffering as greatly as any human ever had. Its eyes betrayed any deadly nature, replacing danger with an intense agony I had never experienced. The feelings of desperation crushed my heart back into reality and jolted me awake, gasping for breath.

Either this dream was merely a continuation of my restless evening or my agitated feelings from earlier were a signal of the impending dream. Either way, I was relieved to have it over. I waited for the anxiety to disappear before opening my eyes. Instead of finding the familiar view of my bedroom ceiling, there was nothing but green and brown as far as I could see. I blinked quickly but the scene remained the same. I was not in my bedroom safely tucked under the covers. I survived the nightmare but faced a harsh reality. I was alone in the middle of a vast forest, curled into a tight ball on the damp ground.

With each breath, the crisp air filled my senses and seized my chest. The aromas baffled me. Everything smelled so…alive: pine, moss, damp earth, with slight undertones of rosemary and citrus. In my immediate sight line, still lying on my side, I saw life: foliage, plants, and shrubbery. Hulking pine trees towered above, some easily two hundred feet tall. This was the wilderness and I had no idea how I got here. Panic took a tighter hold on me with every new glimpse of my surroundings. Every breath intensified the fear building within.

Ok Kalinda, just relax. Get a hold of yourself and take a minute to refocus.” Maybe if I spoke to myself the silence wouldn’t seem so overwhelming. “Close your eyes and let's do this again.”

I held my eyes shut for several dread-filled moments, until spots began to appear. I was not afraid of being alone, but the idea of being desolated sent icy chills throughout me. Maybe if I stayed still long enough I would fall back to sleep and this would all be gone.

NO! You can do this! Get it together! You are stronger than this!” I began to regain my composure slowly. One eye peeked open first and then the other, but nothing changed. I still lay on the ground, alone in the middle of nowhere, staring at a blanket of sideways trees.

Fear jerked me into a seated position and I froze at the sight of an unfamiliar backpack on the ground, inches away from where my head had been. The dark mass had a sleeping bag rolled up and secured neatly to the front by its straps. Great. What am I supposed to do with this? I snatched a stick from the damp ground and poked at the bag. (Like that would help me somehow?) The bag barely gave way beneath the point of the stick. My inquisitive nature got the better of me and I decided to investigate. I fumbled across the straps with trembling fingers, unhooked the sleeping bag and pushed it to the side. The huge pack seemed ready to burst; the zipper pulled tight by the contents inside. Wonderful.

I stared at the bag, not sure if I really wanted to find out what it contained. Every nerve in my body tingled a warning to leave it alone: it didn’t belong to me. What if there was something inside this bag I didn’t want to see? Curiosity won out over fear and I decided to look inside. The bag must have been meant for me because there was no one else here, right?

My fingers quivered as I reached for the zipper and slid it open. Inside the bag was a jacket. I slipped it on and tugged the zipper to just below my chin. It was a perfect fit. I glanced down to my feet and realized I was wearing boots. They were definitely not mine. I lived at the beach and had never been hiking. I was out of my element. Apprehension returned as I forced my attention back to the contents of the bag.

This had to be a mistake. The things inside the bag felt out of place in my inexperienced hands: a compass, lighter, first aid kit, pocket knife, an assortment of rations, mess kit and a canteen of water. The items in this bag were all useful considering my location, but they could not have been meant for me. I knew nothing about hiking, apart from what I had seen on television. I took a sip from the canteen but decided I had no appetite and returned the food to the bag. I decided to keep out the compass, knowing it was necessary to find my way home.

I unzipped the small pocket on the front of the bag and deposited the lighter. Inside I found a piece of paper folded neatly into a square. After unfolding the paper, I read the note and tried to comprehend its meaning. The words caused tears to overflow. Desperation replaced loneliness. Every muscle in my body froze in fear for my survival. I read the note one more time, trying to decide if this was real, blinking all the while to keep up with the falling tears.

I know that you will find everything you will need to create and to nourish.

Chaos and order must coexist if you are to maintain balance in the

universe. You MUST dissolve your attachments, your feelings and ideas and all

other binding emotions. You MUST swallow your despair and dwell in the secret

shadows. Take good care of yourself. I will come for you when it is time.

The note slipped from my hands and fluttered to the ground. I pulled my knees to my chest and locked my arms around them, overwhelmed by the need for human contact. Vulnerability brought on the comforting motion of rocking back and forth, which took me back to my childhood. Before my mother died, she spent hours rocking me to sleep in her lap. Her arms were safety and security. I never missed nor needed her as much as I did right now. I had been without her for most of my life, but that pain faded over time. In this moment, the ache was unleashed, forcing me to relive the experience and all the suffering that went along with it. The sense of emptiness and the uncertainty in my future, once locked away and resolved, had been reawakened in this one small piece of paper.

The page became a blur on the ground as the tears fell and once again I closed my eyes, trying to make sense of the words. Maintain balance in the universe? The secret shadows? But the last part overwhelmed me. I could see the words through closed eyes just as easily as if I were looking at them, their image burned into my brain.

I will come for you when it is time.

When it's time for what? And who was 'I'? And how was I going to be found? The panic alarm inside my mind, my gut instinct, rang vociferous warnings. I sprang to my feet as trepidation raced through my veins. If someone put me here, I most certainly wouldn’t wait around for them to come back and get me.

I grabbed the compass from the ground, reattached the sleeping bag to the pack and flung it over my shoulder. I had no idea of my location but the weather was colder than home, so I headed south. I looked to the compass and pointed it in the direction of the S. With the weight of the bag on my shoulders, I began to run. I focused on my goal so intently my surroundings were merely a blur. Sheer terror kicked me into full throttle.

My feet barely touched the ground as I ran. I moved gracefully, floating across the forest floor despite underbrush and fallen tree limbs which should have blocked my path. I navigated the thick growth instinctively, leaping, ducking and gliding easily between natural barriers. The questions that burned in my mind fueled my motivation to continue to run, even when my body wanted to give up. I persevered for hours, until I could finally take no more. My muscles hammered a fire that spread through me with every step. With each breath, my heart pounded out of control, almost exploding from my chest. I needed a break to regain my composure.

I stopped short, threw the backpack to the ground and leaned against a tree for support. My legs throbbed more severely while standing still, so I dropped to my knees and rubbed them for relief. They were almost completely numb, but that pain could not compare to the constant pounding in my head. My mind once again flooded, overwhelming me. I dropped my head into my hands and stroked my temples, knowing the ache would not go away with a simple rubbing.

I dug the compass out of my pocket and checked my direction to be sure I was still on course. My unsteady fingers fumbled to loosen the cap of the canteen and I took small sips. If this was my only source of water I had to be conservative. The fire in my legs migrated to my mouth, but no amount of water could extinguish it. I felt like a boxer might feel between rounds. My body reminded me I wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace for long.

I never delighted in outdoor activities like camping or rock climbing. Then again, the opportunities didn’t present themselves, either. All I had ever known was life at the beach. I had a small apartment and I happily kept myself sheltered from the outside world. First hand experiences taught me to rely only on myself, all the time. My father left when my mother became pregnant. My mother died when I was eight years old. I spent the next ten years being moved from one foster home to the next. These things all defined me. Independence. Determination. Self-sufficient. Just me. I never let anyone in because I never knew how long they would be around. Now, after twenty-four years of practice, I would have to put all my self-reliant energies to the test. This situation would be a challenge, even for me.

Once rested, I could appreciate the tremendous beauty in this place. There were different depths to this wilderness. The taller covering of trees gave way to lower shrubs and bushes. Wildflowers were everywhere and the air smelled clean and pure. I took a deep breath and felt the crisp air fill my lungs. I never knew the air could feel this satisfying, so uncluttered by life and untouched by human contaminants. It was incredibly fulfilling given my recent expenditure of energy. If I were at home I would take in breaths of heavy air, so thick it would have choked me.

My heartbeat slowed to an almost normal pace and the pounding in my head lessened to a dull throb. I heard the songs of nature singing, birds and crickets chirping. Many unfamiliar sounds in this strange world surrounded me; I couldn’t distinguish one from another. The sky peeking from between the tree-tops gleamed a fantastic shade of blue, not the gray blur I perceived at first. Occasional clouds floated by, darkening the sky momentarily before drifting away and revealing the sun. Under different circumstances, this adventure in the woods might have been an enjoyable first for me. I could get used to the serenity; I might have to if I couldn’t find my way out of here.

Motionless and completely composed, I heard a familiar sound. Water. Somewhere in the distance it flowed freely. I got up in search of the source, grabbing the backpack as I made my way. It would be risky to leave it unattended; I might not be able to find my way back. My trusty compass returned to my pocket after rechecking the proper direction. The water flowed toward something. A pivotal memory from the survival shows I used to watch-all life needs some form of water. I started off slowly, not up for another run, and took very careful steps; the sound of the water drifted from deeper into the woods.

dwell in the secret shadows

Further into the woods the trees gave way to dense shade underneath their broadening canopy. Using the sound of the flowing water as my guide, I continued to walk deeper into the rough. Within a few steps, the trees parted and revealed a creek just a few feet away. Overhead, the shade disappeared as the trees parted and transformed into blue sky. A small clearing of lush, green grass lay on the opposite side of the creek.

Being here reminded me of my nightmare with the bear. I stepped cautiously toward the water source, realizing this creek meant I would not be alone in the forest. I had no idea what might be hiding in this wilderness. I felt much safer here with the clearing in front of me than surrounded by the forest. I knelt down to the water, my eyes still fixed on my surroundings, took some into my hands and began to drink. My canteen remained full for now, but if I followed this creek I could replenish my supply when necessary.

Despite my urge to continue moving south, the sun began to set just beyond the clearing and soon it would be dark. Plenty of daylight remained for now but if I could establish a fire in the clearing, it would make a good place to stop for the night. I hadn’t thought about eating at all today, but if I wanted to continue in the morning I needed some energy. I went back to the tree line and began to gather sticks and dried leaves. Kindling filled my arms and I took them to the edge of the creek. With my boots and socks removed, I rolled my jeans up to my knees and began making trips across the water. The narrow creek was shallow: it was just calf deep, but the bottom was slick. I made each trip across slowly to avoid falling. The last thing I needed was a soaking wet pair of pants.

Once all my materials were across the creek I started building a fire in the center of the clearing. I began to work, layering leaves beneath twigs and repeating, mimicking the steps I remembered from television. I reached into the backpack nearby in search of the lighter. My fingers brushed against the folded up note, sending chills through me. I preferred not to look at the paper again; the words were etched into my memory. I originally decided to save the note to make sense of it when my head was ready. This was not that time, so I pushed it aside and my fingers made their way to the lighter.

The fire started easily and I stared into the bright flames as it grew, enjoying their warmth. My feet were dry, so I put the socks and boots back on, positioning my feet in front of the fire as I worked. I reached for the bag and unzipped it to remove the mess kit and pocket knife. This tiny blade certainly would not be much in the way of self-defense but I felt more secure knowing it would be available.

Among the assortment of food pouches I found beef stew. That would be tonight's meal. The smell of the cooking food made me realize I was hungrier than I thought. It disappeared in a matter of minutes and I pulled out the canteen to wash it down. After cleaning up my supplies it was time to rest. I added a few more logs to the fire, unrolled the sleeping bag, took off my boots and climbed in.

With nothing left to do, I struggled with my thoughts. The flicker of the flames comforted me and kept me warm. As I looked to the sky, brilliant stars shone alongside the moon. My mother used to tell me each individual star represented one soul. She always found the brightest star and pointed it out to be me. In the years since she died, when I looked at the sky and found the brightest star, I knew it was her. She stayed with me always and she was here tonight, watching over me and keeping me safe. I had to take comfort in that thought; otherwise the flood gates of fear would open up and swallow me whole. If I hoped to get any sleep, I had to calm my thoughts and be in a safer place. There was plenty of time for questions in the daylight. I returned my attention to the stars and began to count them, until I finally drifted off.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

*gulp* Here's chapter 1 rough. I'm up for opinions!

Southern Grace

Chapter 1


There weren’t many certainties in the futures of the students at Clifton High School. This early in the school year, most of the senior class had barely given a fleeting thought to life post-graduation. But, as with any rule, there was one exception. His name was Samuel Lawson Chadwick.

Samuel (nobody ever called him Samuel- just Lawson) was one of the rare breed of individuals who knew his future from birth. The son of a second generation police chief, it was assumed by the entire town he would follow in the family business; it happened to be a title Lawson wanted to honor. He didn’t stray from the obligation. Consequently, by his freshman year of high school, he had few decisions left to make about his path in life. By the time senior year approached, Lawson was done making the decisions some would have just begun to face. This gave Lawson a ton of free time and not a lot of available friends to spend it with. His best friend, Tobias, worked every available shift at his fathers’ hardware store to save money for college. When they finally had a chance to kill time together, Lawson had to throw down a new rule. No college talk until the sun went down. Daylight hours were for surfing only.

When Lawson pulled into the driveway at Tobias’s house, he wasn’t waiting outside like usual. Normally, he met Lawson at the end of the driveway; surfboard in hand, he was always ready to jump into the convertible. No Toby meant no surfing. Lawson put the Mustang in park, turned off the ignition and banged his head against the steering wheel. “Tobes, don’t bail on me,” he muttered. “I. Need. To. Surf.”

“Mr. Chadwick,” a voice sang from the house, “you plan ta’ sit there the entire mornin’ or you reckon you could come say hello?”

Lawson lips curled upward as his head remained buried in the steering wheel. She had the same effect on him every time he saw her. Even after all these years, he still melted at the sound of her voice. He lifted his head, offered an acknowledging nod and pushed the long blond hair from his face.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hardy. What’s up with your boy? Is he dumping me for a better offer today?” Lawson pulled the keys out of the ignition, reclaimed his composure and headed toward the house. In all the years he and Tobias had been friends, no one ever knew Mrs. Hardy had the power to turn Lawson to mush. Tobes would kill him if he ever found out. Plus, since she was more like a second mom, he was embarrassed to admit he had a crush on her. She represented everything Lawson wanted in his future. She was as close to perfection as Lawson thought he would ever see. And that was exactly why Tobias was supposed to wait outside for him on surfing days-no distractions.

Lawson climbed the steps to the front porch where Mrs. Hardy greeted him with a hot cup of tea and a warm smile. “No, son, he’s goin’ today. He’s just runnin’ a ‘lil late. He’s been workin’ like a madman lately. He said to give him five minutes. Come on inside.” Lawson followed Mrs. Hardy into the kitchen and spotted a plate of pancakes and sausage sitting at the table. “Help yourself, hun. It’ll be cold by the time he gits ‘round ta’ eatin’.” Never one to refuse a home cooked meal, Lawson dove into the food.

“Can I git you some juice?”

“No thanks, Mrs. Hardy. This is fine, thank you,” Lawson replied between bites.

Mrs. Hardy pulled out her chair and Lawson stood as she did. “Samuel Chadwick, you sit and eat.” She sat and sipped her coffee as Lawson made light work of the plate of food. “Boy, don’t you eat at home?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lawson replied as he wiped his mouth. “I had breakfast once today.”

When Mrs. Hardy laughed, her entire face lit up, and it was more than a reflection of the warm, buttery walls of the kitchen. “Well, you know my cookin’ son. There’s more where that came from.”

“Oh no, ma’am, I’m fine, thank you.” Lawson got up to clear his plate just as Tobias barreled down the stairs.

“Dude, I’m sorry. Must’ve slept straight through my alarm,” Tobias huffed as he dropped his surfboard on the floor.

“Alarm?” Lawson stared at him. “Since when do we need an alarm on surf days?”

“Our boy is growin’ up, Lawson. He’s almost a responsible adult. Almost.” Mrs. Hardy laughed again and the sound sent the blood flowing to Lawson’s cheeks.

“You ready yet, or what?” Lawson smacked Tobias across the back of his head and picked up his surfboard.

“”Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” Tobias slipped on his shoes and reached for the paper plate of food his mom handed him. He kissed her on the cheek and started for the door.

Lawson followed behind as Mrs. Hardy called out behind them. “You boys be careful out there. And Lawson, make sure he brings you back by supper. We’re havin’ your favorite-fried chicken and homemade mashed.”

“That sounds great, Mrs. Hardy. Thanks.”

“Bye mom. Back by dinner,” Tobias yelled and Lawson closed the door behind them.

“Dude,” Lawson said, “have I ever told you your mom’s cooking is the bomb?”

“Only all the time,” Tobias replied as they jumped into the Mustang.

It wasn’t a long drive to the beach but it was long enough for Lawson to get caught up with his best friend.

“So, I’ll ask you again. You had to use an alarm, Tobes?” Lawson glared at Tobias. “And, this time I’d like to hear a real answer. I’m not buying the load your mom is sellin’”

“It’s not a load…” Tobias stumbled. “Well, not really.”

“I knew it!” Lawson chided. “Spill!”

“Well, it’s mostly true. I have been working a lot of extra hours at the store, but it’s not really about being a responsible adult. More like, I’m tryin’ to avoid the barrage of questions about my future.”

Lawson shot Tobias a challenging glance.

“Come on, Lawson. You know how my mom can be,” Toby’s defense mechanisms kicked in as he flustered his way through an explanation. “Every minute I spend at home has to be about college. We’re constantly talking about applications, tours or decisions. She’s overly scheduled and she thinks she can manicure my future as easily as the lawn. I don’t wanna be sculpted. I just want to grow wild for one more year!” Tobias’ face darkened to match the shade of his shaved red hair.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Lawson reassured his friend. “That’s all, just let it go for today.” Lawson glanced at Tobias, a smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Tobias asked as they pulled into the parking lot at the beach.

“Nothin’, man. You’ve never seen yourself when you get all agitated. You look like a cherry tomato sittin’ on top of a pure white tablecloth!” Lawson leaned into the steering wheel, howling with laughter.

Tobias smacked Lawson in the back of the head. “You’re an ass,” he hissed.

“Ahhhhh, but you love my assy self!” Lawson snorted.

“Whatever,” Tobias replied. “There’s gonna be a whole lot more ass to love if you keep imaginin’ food every minute of the day.”

Lawson’s jaw fell wide with the insult and he pounded his fist on his heart. “I’m crushed.” He whipped his head toward Tobias. “You mean you wouldn’t love having more of me to love?” he asked, batting his eyelashes.

“I would drop you like a hotcake,” Tobias replied without missing a beat.

Lawson wiped a pretend tear from his eye and sniffled. The sound of a horn returned his attention back to driving, just in time to find he was kissing bumpers with another car turning into his parking space.

“What the HELL!” Lawson’s voice pierced Tobias’s eardrums. “Are you KIDDING me? Didn’t this jackass see my signal?”

Lawson leapt out of the convertible and rushed toward the front of the car with Tobias on his heels. He bent down and inspected the Mustang and found it unscathed. “Gotta love the classics,” he patted the car lovingly.

Both doors on the conjoined MX6 sportster opened slowly. The windows were tinted but the car was a deep purple. There was no doubt in Lawson’s mind a girl was behind the wheel. As he approached the driver side door all he could see was a pair of very long, very tanned legs unfolding from behind the steering wheel. The legs connected to the most insanely hot blonde he had ever met face to face. There was no other way to describe her. Tall. Tanned. Toned. She was a vision of perfection, and as primitive as it sounded, she was just plain smokin’.

“Damn.” Tobias whispered. “So much for no distractions!”


“Please tell me this isn’t happening,” Grace moaned from behind clenched fists. She turned toward her sister in the passenger seat, eyes blazing with fury. “Trinity, please tell me you saw that boy not paying attention.”

“I did,” Trinity verified. “However, that doesn’t negate the fact mom and dad are gonna kill you if this car is even slightly scratched.”

“Thanks very much for the support,” Grace snapped. She sucked in a deep breath of air and held it before continuing, “I guess I should go look.”

Grace’s hand trembled with frustration as she reached for the door handle and pushed it open. The warm, southern sunlight, previously restricted by the nearly black tinted windows, rushed over her legs as she exited the vehicle. As the boy approached, Grace was uncomfortably aware he no longer looked at his car, but was fixated on her. She pushed her way past him like he was a speck of fluff blowing in the breeze.

Grace bent down to inspect her car and relief washed over her. There was no damage to either vehicle; she could rest easy knowing she’d avoided any death sentence from her parents.

“Man, you got so lucky,” Trinity said.

“I did,” Grace confirmed. She turned to the boy who still stood mindlessly staring at her. “Could you please explain to me how you thought you could park a car when you paid no attention to what was around you? You’re lucky it was just my car you hit and not a small person.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” the boy twisted out the apology. “I really don’t have any excuse. But there’s no damage, so let’s just forget it happened.”

Grace noticed a man walking toward them from the far end of the lot, waving his hands to get their attention. “Great,” Grace muttered, “what now?”

The man’s face was wrinkled with worry as he approached. “Everything alright over here?” he puffed.

The bad driver was the first to respond. “Yes, Charlie. Everything is good.”

The man in the uniform, a parking lot attendant, inspected both vehicles before he replied. “Well, good then, Laws, get it movin’, would ya’? You’re backin’ up my lot.”

“Sure, Charlie, no problem,” the boy agreed.

Charlie shook the boy’s hand before leaving and hollered over his shoulder as he rushed back to his post, “tell the Chief I said hello.”

“I will Charlie,” the bad driver called after him. “Remember, you saw me here and that’s it.”

“I gotcha kid,” Charlie waved.

“Did he just call you Laws?” Grace asked as the boy turned toward her.

“Yeah, short for Lawson,” he replied. He extended his hand but Grace was feeling less than cordial. She gave him a look that let him know the introductions were over.

“You ready,” Grace asked trinity while continuing to shoot daggers into Lawson.

“Yeah, we’ve wasted enough time here,” Trinity replied.

“I can only assume you’ll move so I can get into my parking space,” Grace braked as she walked around him.

Lawson didn’t respond, but got into the Mustang and backed off the MX6.

“That’s what I thought,” Grace muttered.

The Mustang disappeared before Grace had her car parked. “Hopefully that’ll be the last we see of them today,” she said as she pulled the keys from the ignition.

“I don’t know Grace, they were kinda cute,” Trinity jabbed Grace with her elbow.

“Trin, I swear, you are so boy crazy. There’s a ton of cute boys out there. That doesn’t mean I have to flip out over every one who wrecks his car into me,” Grace snorted.

“No, maybe it doesn’t,” Trinity defended. “But wouldn’t that make a great story to tell your grandchildren?”

“Oh my GOD, with the grandkids even? You’re lucky I like you; you’re not much bigger than a kid yourself!”

The girls started unpacking the car and Trinity stood tall next to Grace. “Listen here, sister,” she waved her quick-tempered finger in the air. “Just because you’re eighteen months older than me, it doesn’t give you the right to treat me like a child.”

Grace turned from the trunk, her teasing dulled by the sight of Trinity’s impassioned eyes. “You’re right, sister. You’re not a kid. You’re way more grown up than me. All your talk about marriage and kids-it just freaks me out, that’s all. Who needs any of it?”

“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to the idea. It’s what people do, you know?” Trinity said.

“Some people,” Grace corrected. “It’s what some people do.”

“Ok, ok whatever you say,” Trinity gave up the argument. “But you have to admit, those boys were cute.”

“Alright, fair enough,” Grace conceded. “On a scale of one to ten, I’d give them a seven.”

“Seven? Come on, you have to at least go an eight or eight and a half. Even the bad driver!”

The girls continued their discussion to the beach and, at Trinity’s request, found themselves a spot near the lifeguard stand. They spent the morning in and out of the water, mostly to cool off when the sun got too hot to bear. Trinity relished in her favorite activity of people watching while Grace disappeared into a book. After eating their picnic lunch, they both rolled onto their bellies to fall asleep.

Grace was awakened by cool drops of water dancing off her back. She turned toward Trinity as she started to come out of her sun-induced coma. “Trinity, I think I felt rain. Come on, girl, get up.” She pushed on Trinity’s shoulder and tried uselessly to shake her awake.

“It isn’t raining, you’re getting burned,” a voice from above took her by surprise.

Grace rolled over and squinted, trying to examine the face that belonged to the voice. She dropped her head back in disgust when she realized the shadow being cast over her was thanks to the friend of the bad driver. “I must be having a nightmare,” Grace grunted.

The boy backed up and started to walk away. “Well if you wanna get crispy, that’s on you.”

“Wait, wait,” Grace sat up on her towel. “I’m sorry; I’m not always this rude. Thanks for the heads up.”

“It’s cool. We were on our way past and thought we should let you know. Lawson decided I should tell you myself. He figured you wouldn’t hurt me as badly.”

“He’s probably right,” Grace laughed.

“Anyway, I didn’t get to introduce myself. I’m Tobias.” Unlike with his counterpart, Grace accepted his gesture and shook his hand.

“Grace,” she replied. “And Sleeping Beauty over there,” she nodded, “that’s my sister, Trinity.”

“Nice to meet you both. And we are sorry about earlier. You know the incident that shall, from here out, go unmentioned.”

“It’s cool,” Grace replied, “now that the horror of telling my parents is unnecessary.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Tobias repeated.

“So, where is the driver of the year, anyway?” Grace asked.

“Packin’ up the boards; we’re gonna go grab some ice cream at this little place across the street. You two wanna come along?” Tobias invited.

“Oh, my gosh,” Trinity shrieked and bolted upright. “That would be so amazing right now.”

“So, I’ll take that as a yes,” Tobias laughed.

“Sounds like we’re in,” Grace agreed. “Just give us a minute to rinse off and pack up.”

“Take your time,” Tobias replied.

“Where should we meet you?” Trinity asked.

“How ‘bout we meet you at your car, since we know where you’re parked.” Tobias laughed and disappeared toward the parking lot.

“Ok,” Trinity crowed. “You still give him a seven after seeing him in his bathing suit?” She elbowed Grace, who couldn’t conceal her approval.

“Maybe he’s moved to an eight,” Grace admitted.

“And maybe a little fender bender was just what Cupid ordered!” Trinity yelled, as she rushed down to rinse off in the ocean.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Popping the query cherry

06/Jan/2011 I happened to read about a pitch fest on Twitter. Despite my lack of visits to the Twitterverse up until that day, I was lucky to have happened upon the tweet that rekindled all my creative urges. I put the novel down a few months, ya know? But, as it happened, I was more than anxious to send a 140 character tweet to pitch my work. So, like a good little aspiring author, I did a quick search of the agency, found the agent who would best fit my work, and waited for the fest to begin.

This was my tweet: "Kalinda is plucked from ordinary life and transplanted to Rakshala to meet and marry Shivari (God Shiva) to her Kali." (Of course, directed to my agent of choice)

This was the reply: "Could be cool. Can you send me a query letter? I'll get a better sense that way."

Turns out, the agent manning the twitter account was THE agent. The one with her name on the agency. My heart did a little flippity-flop and my head got busy. HOW DO I WRITE A QUERY LETTER???

Research. Research. Research. Draft. Email to confidants. Edit. Email again. Edit again. By Monday, I was ready to send. And send, I did. Happily. And nervously. And I waited.

31/Jan/2011 I resent the query, attaching a note to the original email stating I was unsure if she had received the first send. I also let her know, from researching her stats on Querytracker, I know she has an excellent (and prompt) response rate, thus my concern for the delayed response. And I waited a 'lil more. And checked my email. And waited.

02/Feb/2011 I happened to be checking my email from work on my break. The world around me disappeared when I opened the mail and found her response in my inbox. I held my breath, and opened the door that held one of two options for my future. Either rush home and send a full...or take the rejection and learn a lesson.

This was the reply:

Dear Rene,

I'm sorry about the delay in answering your query letter. This wasn't an easy decision, but I don't think this is for me. Its too close [in tone] to a book I already represent.

Thanks so much for sharing with me.


Read again. And again. And once more to be sure I am NOT dreaming. This is amazing. Truly and sincerely. I could NOT have asked for a more inspiring first query rejection. I was rejected, yes. I did not expect anything less for a first time. And I do expect there will be more to follow. HOWEVER. It wasn't an EASY decision. And the rejection was based on similarities to something she already represents. That is a good thing! It means the work itself was not the basis for the no. That's all I can hope for as a query virgin. And I'd gladly say thank you a million times over if I ever have the opportunity to meet her in real life.


~Let the games continue~