Last month I read a book that set loose the dichotomy of emotions in me more than ever before.

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green is all at once beautiful and ugly. Funny and Heartbreaking. The story of Hazel and Augustus is one plagued by inevitable heartbreak, yet it is a love so fresh and new that one can’t help but to cheer them on. This book is a one-sitting kind of book; you’ll be loathe to set it down at all.

Go get this book, y’all. Read it. Love it. You won’t regret it.

Just be sure to have a box of tissues handy, because the laugh-to-cry ratio in The Fault in Our Stars is pretty much 50:50

(This is part of YA Highway’s Road Trip Wednesday, a weekly blog carnival where this week they are asking: What’s the best book you read in January?)

Bull plop.

I’m not even going to get into the idea of organic farming when it comes to non-use of pesticides and the such. (Okay, I lie. I will say: buying organic from a small local farm is fantastic, but giant farming operations have to use such large quantities of organic “pesticides” to have the same effect as a small (read: safe) amount of chemical pesticide that it is actually harder on the Earth, and possibly our bodies as well.)

What I am going to talk about it running an organic dairy. Even those who are huge proponents of organic milk will admit freely that there is no difference in the milk coming from an organic dairy when compared to a non-organic one. The difference comes in the treatment of animals.

So you see the fancy-pants organic badge on a carton of milk and you know the cows are being treated better, right?

Wrong.

Dairy cows are treated like kings.* (Or queens, as is more the case.) They are fed high-quality food, given wonderful places to live, helped to give birth (because, my goodness, cows would be extinct without farmers – they can hardly give birth on their own and when they do they do stupid things like stepping on their brand new calf), and generally coddled. Sometimes, they get sick. Sometimes, they get mastitis, which is a really nasty infection in the udders. And when that happens, the farmer gives them antibiotics (injected with a wide-nozzle syringe directly into the udder).

When a cow is on antibiotics, they are milked into a bucket instead of into the main holding tank like the non-medicated cows. The milk from the medicated cow is dumped out. It is not sold or consumed by anyone. (Lest you wonder why farmers still milk a sick cow, ask a nursing mother what it’s like when their kid decides not to eat for an abnormally long amount of time.) After the cow is better and the antibiotic is completely out of her system, she gets milked into the bulk tank just like the rest.

But an organic dairy cannot use antibiotics. So what happens when a cow gets mastitis? It still gets milked into a bucket and has its milk dumped. Why do that when there’s no antibiotic contamination? Because now there is not just milk going into the bucket but the blood that is coming out of the udder because the poor cow has an untreated infection. Not only is that cruel to the animal, but chances are she will also dry up and the farmer will lose that income.

How among you, if you had a painful, easily treatable infection, would turn away the (proven safe and effective) treatment and just hope it rides it course out? I prefer not to take any drugs, even legal medications. But you better believe if I got mastitis, I would be on a round of antibiotics. It’s not fair for those animals to be denied treatments and forced to suffer in pain in order to earn a shiny organic badge. It’s bad business sense at best and animal cruelty at worst.

Think about that next time you insist your milk be organic.

*I’m talking about family dairies here. I know that some scary things can happen at huge corporate ventures.

All I can say is, What the hell are these women thinking?!

Okay, I know that a wedding is primarily the woman’s show, but pre-planning without regard to your (future) man’s personality and style is just stupid. A wedding is not something you can plan to only your specifications and then slide into the program whatever man comes along to marry you.

Ladies, I know your future wedding is a big deal and you probably want things a certain way. Daydream away. But please, don’t actually plan anything until you have a man to plan with. 

Baby Caveman is one today
His party was last Saturday
Such a fun little boy
got all kinds of toys
And so all day long we’ll play

Jamie mentioned on her blog today that she’d read years ago about picking a word at the beginning of each year and making that word yours for the year. Of course, you should probably pick a word with some meaning behind it, because, well, if you don’t then the exercise is pretty pointless.

After reading Jamie’s post this morning, I sat and thought for a while (and chased Baby Caveman a lot, but that’s nothing new). And after tossing a few words around – and, I won’t lie, seriously considering using her word as well – I finally came across what will be my word for 2012:

Achieve

2012 will be the year I achieve. This doesn’t mean I expect to get all the things I want by the end of the year, nor do I expect that I will reach all my goals by then, because many of them are more long-term than that. But in 2012 I will keep my focus on achieving and make sure my daily actions reflect that.

Thanks for a wonderful idea, Jamie!

Welcome to the farm!

Geek Father-in-law was, in fact, not a geek at all. He was a farmer. His grandfather raised sheep here in Star Valley; his father raised sheep for a time, but eventually switched to dairy farming instead. Geek Father-in-law eventually bought the farm, and ran it until this past April. This summer and fall friends, neighbors, and family all pitched in to make sure cows were milked and the ground taken care of. Things did not slow down on the farm, even if Geek Father-in-law’s body slowed him down.

Now Geek Husband and I are in the valley, and we find ourselves as farmers. We are learning the ropes, figuring out how everything is supposed to work. Luckily Geek Husband grew up on the farm, so he knows the basics, and we have a great support system of people to help us get through the first few years until we know exactly what we’re doing. Even more lucky is the fact that we will be running the land, but will not be milking cows. I value my sanity too much to milk cows. We are also very fortunate that Geek Husband’s two brothers (one older and one younger), though they live far away, are able to come down and help out when it is needed.

Amid all this change and turmoil, Geek Husband and I are trying to buy a home. Right now we are living in his Grandmother’s home (she is with an aunt in Idaho for the winter), and we are incredibly fortunate to have a place of our own in the interim. Still, it’s not really a place of our own; we are living on a suitcase of clothes between the two of us, with a small additional one for Baby Caveman. We have no internet access. Geek Husband is still working as a computer programmer half-time; he works out of his parents’ den because he can’t connect at our place (luckily the two homes are close to each other). Our web design studio has been put on hold, because so much of what I need to do to launch it is internet-based. (Don’t worry to anyone who is waiting for a design – those are being done still, we’re just not taking on new projects at the moment.) Really I just want to be in our own house so we can be completely set up and back to a semi-normal life. And so I can baby-proof a home because Baby Caveman is in everything. For the love of commas, Fannie Mae (ugh, why does the house I love have to be owned by Fannie Mae?!) needs to get their ducks in a row already.

So, that is life for me now. I live in a beautiful place and I have a wonderful family. Is this where I thought I would be? Never in a million years. Many people romanticize farming (let me assure you that the reality is a lot of dirt and hard work, and while it’s a good honest living, it is not romantic), but I never did. Never, never, never (one more time: never) did I imagine I would be a farmer. But two nights ago, as I simultaneously nursed a baby and drove a tractor on the way to feed calves, I realized that’s exactly what I am now.

I am a farmer.

John Delbert Bateman (3.December.1949 – 27.December.2011)

More than anything else, he was my dad.

So much goes into that simple statement. My dad, John Delbert Bateman, was my hero; he was the example I looked up to; he was my friend, and sometimes my enemy; he was my mentor and my protector.

Many of you who knew Dad knew him as a strong man, a humble man, a caring man. He was the kind of man who touched lives on a daily basis. He befriended those whom others ignored, and was the first to greet any new person he saw. Never was he unwilling to help out when a friend or neighbor needed him to lend a hand.

When one of his kids needed help, he was always there for us, usually without reserve or want of anything in return.  Except one time when I wanted to take the car to a dance but it needed an oil change. Dad was in the middle of milking, and since I didn’t know how to change the oil, I had to take over the milking chore so he could take care of the car for me. The cows got milked, the oil got changed, and Dad sent me off to the dance in his car. I spent the entire night at the dance smelling cow poop. Unfortunately it was me I was smelling.

Dad was born in Afton on December 3^rd, 1949.  Verda and Reynold Bateman, his parents and my grandparents, were thrilled to finally have a son. Grandpa always said farmers should have sons first so they can have someone to teach to farm. Grandma remembers that, since Dad was nearly ten pounds when he was born, it didn’t take long for him to grow up and be taught.

Dad spent his early years doing the typical things kids did: camping with his family, playing with his cousins and school friends, and the like, but from an early age he was required to help his father with milking the cows and other chores. Once, when he was about seven or eight years old, he was having too much fun with a friend. Mom says she thinks it was a girl. He came home late, and, knowing he would be in trouble, crawled in through his bedroom window and climbed into bed. Later, some cousins came in to visit and his mother told him that since he couldn’t come home in time to help his dad, he could just stay in bed and not play with his cousins.

Dad loved to ski. He got his first pair of downhill skis for Christmas when he was fourteen years old. When Jordan was a lad, he found Dad’s old skis in the basement and decided it might be fun to try them out. So he went out and found the biggest snow hill he could, climbed to the top, strapped on the skis in their oversized boots, and went flying to the bottom.

The skis were very old and the tip of one broke as he hit the bottom. Being upset, he went and found Dad and, with tears in his eyes, told that he broke one of the skis. Dad, being the patient man he was, said it was okay and that he hadn’t used them in years.

Years later Jordan still felt bad, so he went to the basement and pulled the skis from their resting place. With some epoxy and wood chips, he repaired the skis the best he could. When the epoxy had set he went and showed Dad the ski and told  him he should go try them out. So Dad loaded up his snowmobile with skis and Jordan loaded his with his snowboard, and together they rode up to the mountain. They spent the day together, skiing, snowboarding, hiking, and chatting.

That was how Dad always was – never quick to anger, always able to take time out for his kids, despite how busy his life was. Corbin remembers a specific instance where Dad took extra time for him. In Corbin’s words:

It was a temperate fall day, a Saturday to be exact. It was an afternoon much like any fall afternoon. I was hanging out with Dad, milking cows – a task which I often abhorred, but most days it did give us a chance to talk. On this particular day, I regaled Dad with my adventures of the day.

In the company of my cousin, Richard, I had hiked the densely wooded trail to the top of Call Canyon, a Winchester .270 rifle slung over my shoulder, in search of an ever-elusive herd of elk. Our hopes of finding them were extinguished that morning as we only found signs that they had moved to a different location. After a non-productive morning, we searched for a different way to descend the mountain. We settled on a ridge that divides Call Canyon from neighboring Wolfley Canyon and began our trek downward. Within what seemed to be a short amount of time, we discovered the remnants of a marble mine. Legends of this marble mine had reached everyone who lived in the area, but no one I knew had ever found its location.

After sharing this tale with Dad, we decided to engage in a quest to locate the mine. Dad was excited and we ventured out that evening without sharing the details of our plans with anyone – in retrospect, a bad idea.

At first it was easy, hiking up the ridge in the evening light, the amber leaves of the Aspen trees mingling with the constant green of the pines. The ultimate goal – the marble mine – had not been located by the time the sun settled across the valley and left us bathed in a river of darkness. At this point, the decision to turn back was made, much later than it should have been. Our excitement – mine at leading Dad to a treasure I had found, and Dad’s at finding the treasure – had overpowered any sensible judgement.

With only a sliver of moonlight to guide our descent, we headed back down the mountain ridge, our goal unfulfilled, but our adventure just beginning. Descending a mountain in the dark is not the easy task one might think, and soon we found ourselves mired in a sea of shrubbery. At this juncture, the best idea seemed to be lowering ourselves to the canyon floor by way of a draw that seemed passable in the dark. Upon entry into the draw – which was too steep to re-ascend – we found a pile of large rocks impeding our travel to the bottom. The rocks, being only slightly more passable than the impossible climb back out of the draw, were eventually traversed with some teamwork and effort. Home free! The canyon floor lay just below us. We continued downward momentum until a fallen tree, with no shortage of dead, sharp branches, blocked us again. Dad, warning me to be careful, led me through the maze of branches and over the long dead tree. We acquired small abrasions and probably a contusion or two, but Dad, ever protective and always agile, led me through the treachery and we reached the canyon floor mostly unscathed.

Ultimately, we did not reach our goal but the night was more of a success than either of us realized at the time. It happened more than twenty years ago, but the memory of that night’s adventure lives on. Dad and I both remember that night fondly and have reminisced about that evening many times since. The last time I saw him, Dad talked about that quest with a smile and laughed at the lack of common sense we shared that evening. He was happy we had that story to share and remember always.

***

Dad went to elementary school in Etna with about twenty other kids, only four of which were girls. He went to junior high and high school in Afton. He played the tenor sax in high school, and passed the sax down to Corbin, who also played in high school. Dad graduated in 1968.

After graduation, Dad went to work for the Forest Service, spraying bugs and clearing trails. He liked to tell the story of how he bathed while he was working out on the trails. There was a small, freezing cold lake out where they were. He needed to clean himself, but it was too cold to stay in the water. So he would strip down on one side of the lake, then swim across holding the soap. On the other side, he would lather up quickly, then swim back across to rinse off.

In January 1969, Dad received his mission call to England – the Southwest British Mission. He left January 23^rd, 1969, and returned January 6^th, 1971. Mom was the first person to see him when he got back – before even his parents – even though she was engaged to another man at the time.

Dad met Mom – the love of his life – in July of 1967. He was 17, and she was only 16. Mom says the first thing she thought when she first saw him was, “I’m too young to meet him,” meaning she knew he was the one she would one day marry. At the time she was dating his cousin, DeLynn, who made the mistake of bringing Dad on a dinner date. I guess DeLynn didn’t fully grasp that for a double date he needed another girl too. Dad wasn’t very focused on girls at the time, and it always took him a few weeks to answer Mom’s letters.

The following May Dad was graduating from high school  and needed a date for the commencement dance. He remembered “that girl” who had been writing to him and invited her up to be his date. Then he didn’t even recognize her! They spent many hours talking and getting to know each other. It would be three more years until they could get married, with his mission in between. Mom tried her hardest to marry someone else while he was gone – even getting engaged twice in the process – but it was always Johnny for her.

After Dad’s mission, he and Mom started dating again. On March 23^rd, 1971, Dad took Mom out on a drive. It was a dark and stormy night. As they rounded a corner, they saw another car coming, so they dimmed their lights. Immediately they hit a pile of tree branches that had been dropped in the road. When the cops came, they kept looking at Mom funny. Later Mom asked Dad about it, and he said, “I told them I was getting engaged tonight.” The ring came a week later; he slipped it on her finger as “We’ve Only Just Begun” by The Carpenters played. When it came time to pick a wedding date, Dad picked a date between haying weeks, and Mom knew then that she was not only marrying Dad, but also his farm. Dad milked cows from the time he was six years old and helping Grandpa until this April, when his illness forced him to stop milking.

In their early marriage, Mom and Dad lived in Idaho Falls, where Dad was studying at Eastern Idaho Technical College in the Diesel Mechanics program. Corbin was born in Idaho Falls; Tifany came shortly after Mom and Dad moved back to the valley. After six more years of trying, I was born, followed by Kelvin and Jordan.

Dad loved his children almost as much as he loved Mom. He told Kelvin a few times that he regretted not taking his kids on more trips, for being so tied down to the farm that he couldn’t take us on more vacations. Kelvin always enjoyed riding in the tractor with him, or tagging along as he fed the cows or worked on the equipment. I don’t think anything made Dad happier during a long day on the tractor than having one of his kids come and join him.

Dad loved his time with each of us. He would read to us every night, but my favorite stories were the ones he told from memory. He had a way of making the stories come alive like we were right there watching it happen. I used to love snuggling up to him at church; he would always let me lean into him for a while before making me sit up on my own, since I was “old enough” to sit alone. He said later he wished he would have just let me sit on his lap when I wanted to so he could have more time close to me.

Always showing his love for his kids, Dad was quick to help any of us out of a pinch, as long as he figured we learned our lesson. He hated to see his kids hurting, but he wasn’t about to bail us out of a learning experience. I think we’re all grateful for that now, and I think each of us kids remember times when Dad has helped us out of a jam.

He was never a vindictive man, but he sure enjoyed it when someone got their “come upins” as he put it. Tifany remembers complaining once about something TJ had done. Dad got that sparkle in his eye – he always showed his emotions through his eyes – and started chuckling. He must have figured Tifany was starting to get her “come upins” for putting him through so much grief. She tried not to complain about her kids after that.

Dad was a wonderful man, a hard worker, and an artist – though maybe he would deny that. He built Mom’s house; they moved in in 1994, and ever since he’s been adding woodwork and detail, making it more of the palace he thought Mom deserves. Last Christmas, he made us all checkerboard wooden cutting boards. Kelvin got to town and, thinking Dad was only making cutting boards for us girls, helped him out. They spent hours together sanding and oiling cutting boards for Tifany, Grandma, and Me. Imagine Kelvin’s surprise Christmas morning when he opened his very own cutting board – the first one Dad made. Dad always liked to say that he didn’t have many fancy things, but we all knew that he could make beautiful things.

I know my Dad was an icon to many of you here today. He was well known in this valley – the family name is as entrenched in this valley as the valley is entrenched in the family. Along with my family, I want to thank all of you for your generous support  and service throughout his illness. It was by the love and support of friends and family that Dad was bolstered up this last year. Your kindness and generosity will not be forgotten.

My hero has passed on now, and leaves my mom, my siblings, and I to carry on his legacy. We are proud of him, of all he was, and all he would have been if times had been different

I am most proud to say this one thing: Of all that he was, he is my Dad.

(Written by Rachel Bateman. Delivered by John’s daughter, Alissa Papi.)

But some of you are super observant and saw that the winners have already been posted in the Rafflecopter widget. So….

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!

Cari Albarelli gets a full critique!

And first 50-pages critiques go to Peggy Eddleman, Jessica, Stephanie, and Kimberly Lynn Workman!

Horray.

Now I’m tired. No more writing for the night.

I’ll email the winners early next week. Or feel free to email me if you want.

Good night.

HUSHED
Written by: Kelley York
eBook: 224 pages
Publisher: Entangled Publishing
December 2011
Genre: Young Adult
How I Got the Book: NetGalley

(Summary borrowed from The YA Curator, who shortened Amazon’s summary to get rid of some spoilers.)

Eighteen-year-old Archer couldn’t protect his best friend, Vivian, from what happened when they were kids, so he’s never stopped trying to protect her from everything else. It doesn’t matter that Vivian only uses him when hopping from one toxic relationship to another. Archer is always there, settling Vivian’s scores for her. And waiting to get noticed.

Then along comes Evan, the only person who’s ever cared about Archer without a single string attached. The harder he falls for Evan, the more Archer sees Vivian for the manipulative hot-mess she really is.

But Viv has her hooks in deep, and when she finds out she’s not number 1 anymore, she’ll do whatever it takes to put things back the way they were.

Cover: You will notice this trend pretty quick in this review, but, um, I LOVE IT. Immediately I wonder so much about this character: what is on his mind? What’s got him down? And why does he have blood on his face…is it his own? I won’t lie, as much as I don’t want to say it, often self-published and small-press books don’t have great covers. Well, Entangled is a small-press and this cover is GREAT.

The Book: Asher spends his life trying to make things right for Vivian. He orbits her, hoping one day to be the man in her sights, not just the one who she comes to when it’s convenient. Archer doesn’t blame Vivian for the way she treats him; she’s damaged, and he hopes that by taking some pretty extreme measures to try to fix her past, she will finally be free of it and able to love him for real.

Then he meets Evan. Evan, the sometimes-shy, sometimes-awkward, but sometimes-confident boy who for some inexplicable reason insists on becoming Archer’s friend. Despite his best efforts not to be, Archer is intrigued by Evan. Their friendship grows, and soon Evan has Archer realizing that maybe, just maybe, he deserves better than what Vivian is able to give him.

But Vivian doesn’t like that Archer has someone other than her, and she is willing to do whatever it takes to keep him for herself.

What I Loved: Um, everything. Yep, it’s true.

Kelley York does a great job making her characters real. The book focuses almost entirely on Evan, Archer, and Vivian, all of whom are fully-fleshed, well-rounded characters. Archer is one I was rooting for even when he was doing things that are really, really not good. Vivian was cruel and manipulative, but also hurting and damaged. I hated her…but in that good way that made me realize just what a great character she is. And I wanted to reach right through my nook and give Evan a big, awkward hug.

There are not many secondary characters in Hushed, but the ones we see are full-bodied characters of their own. York is not the kind of author who glosses over secondary characters or uses them just to push the action along. I could tell that each character, even those I only saw for a page or so, all their their own unique story to tell…this just wasn’t their book to do so!

(The next paragraph is a little spoiler-y. Not much, but if you want to, feel free to skip to the next section.)

The relationship that blossoms between Evan and Archer is fantastic. I don’t have words to describe how great it is to read as they become friends, develop that closeness, and then evolve into so much more. I love that there wasn’t this huge oh-my-gosh-I’m-gay-what-do-I-do-what-will-people-think? internal monologue going on. The relationship developed just like any other would. So what if it was between two guys (one of whom has always been in love with a girl)? It was a relationship and it developed just like any other. I was so happy to see a gay relationship with no huge weight or stigma attached to it. It’s refreshing.

What needed work: Hmmm….I came across some typos, but I was reading a galley copy, so I assume those have been fixed.

When I first jumped in to the book, it didn’t hook me at all. But, like a bad break-up line, it’s not the book, it’s me. I was so swamped with moving and everything when I first started reading that I just couldn’t give Hushed the focus it needed (until it grabbed my by the throat and MADE me pay attention – and that didn’t take long). Had I not been so preoccupied, I am sure I would have been hooked almost immediately, as the intro is very intriguing.

I don’t know if I would actually classify this book as YA, but I also don’t know where I would shelve it, and as the main characters are all 18, I guess upper YA is the right place for it. Since the characters are in college and seem more adult, though, it is missing some of the normal things you see in a YA novel. The new discovery is still there for Archer, however, so that is nice.

Recommended for: Fans of the DEXTER books and show. (I’ll admit: I’m in love with DEXTER, but I’ve never read the books. For shame!). If you liked Rebecca James’s Beautiful Malice, this one is for you. (And if you haven’t read Beautiful Malice, pick it up when you get this one, because it’s worth it.)

I couldn’t let today pass without a post, though, because Larkstorm released today (on Amazon…but don’t worry, Barnes & Noble isn’t far behind – hopefully tomorrow) and I am SO excited!

Remember the pretty?

In the years following the destructive Long Winter, when half the world’s population perished, the State remains locked in battle against the Sensitives: humans born with extra abilities.

As one of the last descendants of the State’s Founders, seventeen-year-old Lark Greene knows her place: study hard and be a model citizen so she can follow in her family’s footsteps. Her life’s been set since birth, and she’s looking forward to graduating and settling down with Beck, the boy she’s loved longer than she can remember.

However, after Beck is accused of being Sensitive and organizing an attack against Lark, he disappears. Heartbroken and convinced the State made a mistake, Lark sets out to find him and clear his name.

But what she discovers is more dangerous and frightening than Sensitives: She must kill the boy she loves, unless he kills her first.

 

Head on over to Dawn’s blog to congratulate her and find out where you can get your own copy of Larkstorm!

Sarah is especially awesome for organizing the12 Days of Christmas Giveaway & Blog Hop. Here’s how it works:

12 blogs.

12 days of Christmas.

12 times to WIN.

Listed on Sarah’s blog are the 12 bloggers participating in this blog hop. Between now and December 1st, each of the 12 will put up a contest post, letting you know what you can win at their blog. All contests are open through December 12th. Then, starting on December 13th, winners will be picked! One (or maybe more!) a day for each of the Twelve Days of Christmas. Then, on Christmas Day, Sarah has a super-duper Secret Santa Giveaway that goes above and beyond the 12 already being held.

Does it get any better? I submit that it does not.

I was given the fifth day of Christmas, Five golden rings! (hence the post title). But, um, my prizes really have nothing to do with golden rings. Maybe I will wear some while I am performing the prize….

So what can you win on my blog? What else:

I am giving away (another) full manuscript proofread and critique. I will read your manuscript (no length limit, but be realistic here – if your book is clocking in at 250,000 probably you should self-edit a bit). My strengths are in YA and MG, so critiques will be more in depth for those genres. Line-by-line proofreading is the same no matter what you’re writing, so that’s that.

Hey, isn’t it  FIVE golden rings?

Huh. Turns out it is. Which means we will have FIVE winners! But I’m not totally insane, y’all. Only one winner gets to send the full manuscript. For the four runners-up, I will proof and critique their first 50 pages!

But, wait! There’s more!

As a couple of you know, Geek Husband and I are starting a web design and development business. We are in pre-launch mode right now, getting everything geared up and ready to go…and building our portfolio. So, in the spirit of giving, we have decided to give:

ONE FREE WEBSITE DESIGN!!!

That’s right. All design, programming, you name it, it’s free. All our websites are designed to be used with an easy content management system (we mainly use wordpress, but if you prefer another, we will code to whatever you want) so you can update whenever you want without waiting for your web guy to do it for you. Full blog integration is included.

(Fine print: design and coding is free. CMS and blog integration is free. You must pay for your own domain name and web hosting. We reserve the right to refuse to design sites based on content. But don’t worry, you’ll be fine. If you are an author writing erotica, no biggie; if you’re wanting us to make you a porn website, we’ll say no.)

Since the web design is so large a prize, and to help promote the other authors on the blog hop, I will not be drawing the winner until the end of the year (I don’t want to take away from Sarah’s prize day and do it on Christmas…so we can wait a little longer). Entries for this will be accepted through Christmas day. Also, entries for the web design come from entering all the 12 Days of Christmas giveaways, not just mine. So go visit everyone else and enter their contests!

Enter to win the web design by following this link!

This week’s tip is a short one: put away the computer, take a break, and go outside. Some time away to enjoy the rest of your life will be great. Plus, you will be more productive when you get back to writing, I promise.

How are things going for y’all? Are you going to reach your goals this month?

1) It forces you to actually finish.

Okay, so obviously that is not true. But the idea is still there. NaNoWriMo is great for the writer who has been struggling to finish anything she’s started. It gives a goal and a deadline, which is something many writers don’t give themselves. It is amazing how much more productive one is when one has a goal and a deadline. Many new writers won’t do it, so NaNoWriMo does it for them.

 
2) The communtity.

The forums at NaNoWriMo.org are filled with others just like you: semi-crazy writers trying to create their novels. They give support, help you bounce ideas around, and when things are looking down they do whatever possible to bring you back up again. The forums are fun, entertaining, educational, and a great place to meet new writer friends. Yes, there are many other forums out there that offer a place for writers to hang out, but the NaNo forums are special for many writers.

3) You have no choice but to turn the internal editor.

When you are trying to crank out 50,000 words in only 30 days,  you can’t go back to edit things. You just can’t. Not if you want to be able to meet your goal, at least.

It’s a hard thing to so, but turning off that part of the brain that wants perfection is a wonderful, beautiful thing. NaNoWriMo can help teach you to do that, and in the process free your mind for future drafts as well.

4) In the end, you have a finished draft!

Many writers will write for years and years without actually finishing something they start. It’s great to get practice putting words on paper, but that’s only part of the battle. We need to finish what we start in order to really grow. For many, the first time they ever finished a draft came during NaNoWriMo.

5) It teaches that YOU CAN DO IT!

November is over and you have a shiny (okay, probably pretty murky) first draft in hand. You did it! How long have you been working at this dream, thinking that maybe you would never be able to write a book? Now you have. NaNoWriMo has taught many people that they actually have it in them to write a book. For me, it wasn’t NaNo, but I did prove to myself that I could actually write a book by forcing myself to do it all in a month. Now that I know I can do it, the process is much less daunting and I can take my time to make the book better, knowing that in the end I CAN FINISH.

We’re a week into NaNoWriMo, and last night I deleted my words. Every. Single. One. Then I opened up a new file and started again. Did I just ruin my chances of getting 50,000 words this month? Well, never say never, but yeah, I probably did.

And I am totally okay with that.

You see, my goal is to write a book that I can make great. I know it won’t be great in the first draft, but I want to have the platform to make it so. I wasn’t getting that with what I was writing in my NaNoNovel, so I decided to call a mulligan and do it over.

Normally, I am a huge advocate of the don’t get it right, get it written camp, meaning I think one should push all the way through a first draft before going back to try to edit it. That’s how I’ve written before and it has worked beautifully. This time, however, I couldn’t make myself keep moving forward because I knew what I was working on was wrong, wrong, wrong.

It had the wrong narration, the entirely wrong tone. I could have kept moving forward – I could have written the whole book – but I knew in the end that the only way to salvage what was there would to completely rewrite it. So I decided to take a step back, evaluate what would be best for my book, and ultimately start again.

The plot and action are exactly the same, but what I wrote last night is completely different from what I had before. The tone is what I had in mind when Geek Husband and I planned the book out. It fits with the vision I have in my head, where what I wrote before doesn’t. I might have had to throw out a lot of words, but it’s all okay, because what I wrote last night sets me up for success with this book.

Some might say that, in the spirit of NaNoWriMo, I should have changed the tone when I realized there was an issue and then fixed the beginning to match during edits. Anything to plow through and get the first draft done this month. Shoot, once upon a time, I would have been one of those people. But I’ve learned something over the past few years of writing: yes, first drafts are all crappy – as is the nature of a first draft – but I am better off taking the time and detours needed to give myself a solid foundation than pushing through for the sake of getting more words on the paper.

I guess what it boils down to is expressed perfectly in the quote above. What I want now is to write this first draft and break-neck speed and finish it this month. What I want now is to win NaNoWriMo. But is that what I want most?

I gave that a lot of thought last night before trashing what I’d written. And the answer is: No, winning NaNoWriMo is not what I want most. What I want most is to write as solid a draft as possible on the first go-around. And, as much as I wish it weren’t the case, that is going to take some time. More than one frantic month, surely.

(Even though I decided it is not the best route for me this time, I still adore NaNoWriMo. In fact, come back tomorrow for a post on all the things about NaNoWriMo that I think are fabulous!)

A while ago, I redid my blog design, as you might remember. (Side note: I am redoing it AGAIN. Not because I don’t like it, because I do, but because Geek Husband is a programmer, but doesn’t have any WordPress or Drupal experience, so I am designing my site again and giving him the practice of coding it from the ground up on both platforms – meaning things I usually use plugins for will be specifically coded for me now.)

Anyway, during the redesign, I decided to get rid of my landing page and just have the blog be front and center. But I didn’t think things through. You see, all my lovely RSS and GFC followers were following rachelbateman.com/blah-g not rachelbateman.com. So pretty much my blog dropped from their feeds.

I repeat: oops.

So, rather than ask everyone to update their feeds, I’m bringing the landing page back and shifting the blog back to a blah-g page. Which mean I do have to ask those of you who have added me to your readers in the last couple weeks to please update my feed to http://rachelbateman.com/blah-g.

Sigh.

Thank you, lovlies.

1. This post from Kody Keplinger is a MUST READ. Must. And not just if you are a writer. This is a must read if you are a human being. Which I suspect you are. If you are not, please let me know, because I’m intrigued.

2. RECIPES!

Quite some time ago, I mentioned that I was trying a new sugar cookie and glace icing recipe to help me achieve pretty, pretty cookies without icky, icky royal icing. I love the recipe and have used it more times since then than I care to admit…but I forgot to share. So I will now.This is the only sugar cookie recipe you will ever need again. And the icing? Divine.

Make these sugar cookies.

Decorate them with this icing.

Yum!

Geek Husband and I have been looking to move for some time now, and recently we decided to put a deadline on ourselves and make it happen. We are now moving the first week of December. Which means I have to pack up my entire house this month. It’s amazing how much stuff you can accumulate in 3.5 years of living someplace (I’m glad it’s only been that long…I couldn’t even imagine if we’d been living here for 20 years or something).

Going along with moving, we’ve decided to take the plunge and buy a house. Add more things to take care of during November, because there’s a lot of stuff that goes into preparing to buy a home. Especially if you are getting great first-time buyer rates. I just wish there was a way to test out of all this mandatory home-buyer education. Because I’m an over-researcher so I’ve already learned all this stuff.

Then…the weekend before Thanksgiving we are holding a benefit auction to raise money to help with my father-in-law’s medical bills (he had a nasty bout of esophageal cancer). Part of the auction includes a dessert auction, so I need to bake my little tushy off (though, I won’t lie, I have a tendency to sample my product, so all that baking surely won’t reduce the size of my tushy)(which is a perfectly acceptable size)(who am I kidding? I’ll just be cocky here – I like my butt). Ahem. Anyway, lots of baking to be done.

So, yeah. I have a lot of things to juggle this month. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop my manic writing. Will I get 50,000 words this month? To be honest, probably not. There’s just too many things piling up. But you better believe I will have more words than I started with, and that’s the whole point, right?

(For the record: I surpassed my goal last night, so I’m off to a good start!)

My tip is a day late this week because I didn’t want to overshadow my contest winner post yesterday, but it’s here now and it’s a good one.

NaNo Productivity Tip: Dress for Success

One of the fun parts of being a writer is the fact that you can do your job anywhere you go, wearing anything you want. It’s been said many times that a writer’s uniform is her pajamas. So why would I want to take that comfy, lazy joy from you?

Geek Husband is a computer programmer – another job that allows one to wear whatever one likes to work. He works in an office, so there is a dress code, but it’s pretty casual. He goes to work in jeans and a t-shirt every day; he might throw on a button-up if he’s feeling particularly dressy one day. But it’s pretty well known that there are companies out there (*cough*IBM*cough*) that have a serious dress-code from their programmers. I’m talking a suit and tie here. For workers who sit in front of a computer, not seeing the public at all.

Why would a company require this? It’s simple: dressing up for work is a mental game. By buttoning up that shirt, tying the tie, and slipping the suit jacket over his shoulders, the IBM programmer is getting into the mindset to do some serious work. Sitting in front of the computer in your pajamas leaves you in that lazy mindset and you are more likely to surf the net and dink around without actually getting any work done.

As someone who’s worked at home in a number of different positions, I’ve tested this theory on myself. I know I am more productive if I get ready for the day as if I were going to work at an office where I’d be seeing clients all day long, even if really the only people I will see are Geek Husband and Baby Caveman (who couldn’t care how I look as long as I feed and play with him). Now it’s your turn to try it out.

Before you sit down to write, get dressed and ready like you would before heading off to work. Take those moments to get yourself in the mindset of working, and I promise you will be more focused and productive than if you just go to in your pajamas.

Seriously, try it.

Now, what you’re actually here for…A WINNER!

Random.org decided the winner for a full manuscript proofread/critique is :

Woo-hoo! I’ll be sending a message your way.

Now…there’s more:

Maybe because I’m having a sugar-high* but I’ve decided to spread the love to everyone that entered! Now, I’m not totally crazy and I can’t offer you all FREE full critiques. That’d be totally crazy. Totally.

But what I can do is this:

For everyone who gave me a recommendation and tried to win, I will proofread the first three chapters of your manuscript for free. Just shoot me an email and we’ll figure things out!

*Who else loves the song “Sugar High” that plays at the end of EMPIRE RECORDS?