Thanks to all the certain girls who've entered so far! I'll be randomly picking a winner on Monday, so you still have time to tell me what kind of CERTAIN GIRL you are to win a FREE signed Copy of GOOD IN BED.
I can't decide if I'll be posting more or less now that I finally have a laptop because, obviously (or hopefully) I'll be working more towards getting published. I think I'm going to have to ban myself from writers sites for awhile because it's all very doomsday right now.
I read today that only one in around one hundred and sixty submissions even get thoroughly read. Blech. I can't decide if I have the chutzpah to keep at this in spite of the rejection. Honestly I've never been great with rejection. Or criticism. Or constructive criticism.
I'm not sure why, I just get really defensive. I'm going to have to toughen up at least a little though because it's all a part of writing. Ho hum.
I've been living in denial (get it? my vacation home in Egypt? the Nile river? Denial? OK, maybe it's not as clever as I thought.) for a bit about my weight. I mean, certainly I knew I was heavier than I needed to be, but I exercise regularly (OK, semi regularly) and I like to workout. Sure given a choice between grilled chicken and a donut, I'm going straight for the yeasty yummy goodness. But last year, both my parents had life threatening illnesses. Now, not both of them were because of unhealthy lifestyles, but I still felt a pressing need to get my own health in order. First order of business, the doctor, who told me in no uncertain terms that My First Order of Business would be to change my diet, and to exercise. It's a bit of a reality check when your kind sweet doctor tells you that the time has come to get busy loosing the booty.
The problem is, I'm far more comfortable with my body than I ever was in my teens. Or even my early twenties. I mean, I realize that I'm too short to carry a lot of weight and carry it well, and looking like a city road map with your clothes off is not really how I prefer to look. But, I'm proud of what I've done with my body, I've carried and delivered (by C-section, but still) three healthy wonderful children. I've fed them, and kept them warm with the same body that I couldn't seem to cover up enough when I was still wearing single digit numbers. Now, I know that there's nothing wrong with a little weight, but a little weight is not my problem. I don't think Oprah or the ubiquitous Dr. Phil are going to have to come cut the side of my house off soon, but I definitely need to get healthy.
Being the late starter I am, I guess I'll call this my New Years Resolution. I don't want to make it about loosing weight, though, because that can get oppressive. I want to make it about being healthy. Maybe then I can vacation at the beach without being covered from head to toe.