Bird Boy (Excerpt)

This is a short excerpt (oxymoron) from Chapter 7 in my WIP. If you don't like it, then keep it to yourself. I'm feeling really good about my writing self right now and I'd like to keep it that way.

FRANCISCO & THE BIRDMEN

The rest of the First Day of Seventh Grade goes pretty smooth except, of course, for the honey in my locker.  I talk to Mrs. Hughes and she moves my locker next to Trixie’s.  Between classes I’m electrified by her orange hair and matching metallic smile.  Trixie and I have an ongoing conversation that takes place during passing time between the last three classes of the day.  Passing time is only five minutes, so by the time I walk to my locker (while avoiding Mouton), open it, and grab books for my next class, I’d say our conversation takes place over a total of ninety seconds.  It could’ve been longer, but I’m not sure.  The orange was getting to me.

Conversation With Trixie:
Part I (After lunch, before math with Mrs. Singleton—wait til you meet this doozy, talk about scary!)

Trixie: What are you doing here?
Me: Mrs. Hughes moved my locker.
Trixie: Why?
Me: Because I asked her to.
Trixie: Whatever. It was because of Mouton.
Me: (thinking of a comeback and failing miserably) Whatever.
Trixie: Don’t act like you’re not scared of him.
Me: Why would I be scared of him?
Trixie: Because he weighs like five hundred pounds.
Me: (slamming my locker) Nice braces.    

New Look & Chalk Talk

I've dedicated the last 48 hours to overhauling Crossing Chalk. Some things have to be done. It's like purging your closet of old t-shirts with yellow arm-pit stains, the ones that have dates on them --like  Snowboarding 1998. Believe it or not I have a long sleeve t-shirt with this on the front. It's so comfortable that you fall asleep within 10 minutes of putting it on. It's twelve years-old and it's still a staple in my closet, yellow pit stains and all.

Make sure to click on over to CHALK TALK, a new message board I've created for writers like us. There are many useful, if not famous, message boards out there, and I'm not trying to compete with them. You see, over the last two years I've become part of this writer's community-internet-blog-world thing, and now that I've taken the time to read and loiter on the web long enough to know what's useful, I've decided it's time that a new forum came to town. (Change is good, unless you're a pig in a safe house, then you just hope the door never opens).

But seriously, I'm not hoping for a thousand users, I'm hoping that writers see an opportunity to connect with other writers and publishing industry professionals, ones outside of their comfort zone and familiar web-based groups. *Familiarity is nice, but opening yourself up to a new place can create new opportunities, ones that could benefit you greatly. There are thousands of us out there, and there can never be too many quality places to network. Writers, editors, agents, publishers, and minions--who fetch coffee for all of these people--are welcome.

So click on over and post a new topic or reply to a current one. There are no boundaries. Well, let me recant. Posts are limited to anything and everything about writing for young people. You hear that, Murph!  

Okay, a thousand users would be cool.

SCBWI 2010 Summer Conference

Last year was my first time attending this conference and it was worth the time (four days) and money ($500). I mean, at least you get free coffee and breakfast treats every morning. They should pass out jackets at the door since the temperature in the banquet hall, the conference epicenter, hovers slightly above freezing.

Register here

A Stick Can Be

A stick can be this
A stick can be that
A stick can be anything
Skinny or fat

A stick can be long
A stick can be short
A stick can be a pole
In my treehouse fort

A stick can be a cane
A stick can be a sword
I can be a knight
Or a mighty overlord

A stick can be round
A stick can be flat
A stick can be this
A stick can be that

Thursday Rain

It's gonna rain this week
But I'm not sure what day
There's too many to choose from
And they all have an equal say

Sunday should be sunny
With Monday humid and hot
Tuesday looks like wind
While Wednesday hits the spot

Thursday it will pour for sure,
Cause that's the day of my big game
I've been waiting for this day all year
And now it's going to rain!

Friday the sky will clear
And Saturday has only sun
Why can't my game be sooner
Or after the rain is done!

A Few Photos

Below: LC

Below: Blondie trying to figure things out. (Good ole Blondie)

Below: The Fam

Now back to prepping my upcoming Trojan War Unit... Achilles!!!!!!

Baby Boy!

On Friday afternoon at 1:37 PM we had a baby boy, 7lbs 10oz. 

His new blog name: LC.

  

Bomb Shelter (The Real McCoy)

So here it is, The Real McCoy. The Bomb Shelter, otherwise known as my future Man Cave/Writing Lair (one of these days). It was built in 1961 around the time of nuclear threat from the Russians via Cuba (Bay of Pigs).  I need to clean out the old desk and paint over the Spanish wall ballad, but other than that it's in pretty good shape... if you love black widows and other eight-legged freaks. 

Above: Hand-crank air filter. That's right, if there's a nuke coming our way, I have fresh air, you don't.

OSH & Patience

OSH. Orchard Supply Hardware. I've been there three times in the last 36 hours. All three times I returned something that didn't fit or work. Lesson learned: Buy two things that look like they might fit, then return the one that doesn't. Good thing OSH (smaller than Home Depot, but definitely more approachable; being a green homeowner, I'm all about approachability) is only a half-mile away. I now own these things from OSH:

WELCOME mat

cordless drill (Kawasaki)

3/8" flat head wood plugs (for prior cable guys drilling in floors)

outdoor vent 

fly swatter

tool box

sandpaper

garden hose hanger
Grants ant traps

The list goes on and it will surely grow by week's end. For the last two weeks I've also been putting things together around the house and my back and fingers need a little WD40 every morning. Here's what I've assembled:

baby changing table/dresser

crib
travel system stroller (just the wheels and trays)

dollhouse bookshelf (for Blondie)

white stacking bins (for Blondie)
Playhouse (for Blondie)

Lucky Blondie, huh.

This list isn't too bad, but this doesn't include the minor annoyances I've had to fix or hang:

toilet paper holder

hand towel holder

crawl space cover

stucco foundation vents

my own holes in the wall from being an amateur (buying a real drill helped)

Enough is enough. For now I'm finished. On strike. Relaxing. What I've learned through this process is that I need to be more patient. Our house isn't going to be the way we want it for a long while and I need to come to terms with that. So. I have. And we bought a turn-key house, though built in 1954, I can only imagine buying a fixer or one that needs a lot of work. Coming to terms with being patient has allowed me to do other important things, like play with Blondie more, hang with Wife, and write. 

But I do have one nagging issue to resolve. Anyone know of a company that cleans out spider infested places, like Bomb Shelters. More pics coming soon...

...unless baby boy shows up in the next 48 hours.

Patience.

Picture: Baseball practice in the morning. Playhouse assembly in the afternoon with a rush to finish before Blondie gets home. 3-4 hours later = exhausted. (PMM - those gray/black socks are for you!)

Bomb Shelter

New House:

Here are the promised Bomb Shelter pics. They are only TEASER pics. The ACTUAL Bomb Shelter picture will come later. Consider it a trailer of sorts, a preview, the inside flap.

Hatch (submarine-like entry/exit) in the backyard. This is a bird's eye view of the hatch. Anyone watch Lost? I don't, but people have told me it reminds them of the show. Alternative entrance is in the garage floor, literally the garage floor. That's the one I use. 

Garage Entrance, Stairs & Hallway. Here, you are underground. Those stairs go back up to the garage floor. Notice the reinforced steel and concrete. This is NOT the actual Bomb Shelter, only the stairs and hallway that lead to it.

Off to take pictures of the real McCoy. Til next time...