I have never sought out Shakira's music--I've only heard bits and pieces on commercials--but after reading this article about her in the NY Times, I feel compelled to. I'm not crazy about her hesitancy to be labeled a feminist, but she seems like a very cool person, and we share a lot of thoughts about the embodied creative process:

--"I think art, music should be sensual," she added. "Not necessarily sexual. I think that's a huge difference between that N and that X. It's more than the 11 letters of difference. Sensual is everything that refers to the delight of the senses. And that's what artists do, is stimulate the senses in any possible way. I don't think I have to hang myself a little sign that says 'Hey, I'm sexy,' and then take it off and now say, 'Hey, now I'm serious.' I can just fluctuate and oscillate from one side to the other whenever my instincts tell me to."

--And she was still working on "Oral Fixation, Vol. 2" after its single, "Don't Bother," had been released. She was under deadline pressure by that point but, she says, "You can't ripen a fruit by hitting it with rocks."

--"Sometimes a melody suggests in what language that song should be written," she said. "I just learned to listen to what the song wants to tell me."

--Rehearsal beckoned; in a few days, Shakira would be singing the songs in public for the first time. "Just today," she said, "I'm starting to get in touch with the songs from the performer point of view. O.K., how am I going to interpret this with my body? How am I going to start to have now a physical relationship with my songs?"

--"My hips tell me where and when I should move," she had said before returning to work with the band. "And my hips don't lie - my hips tell me the truth."

Greenpeace has a great new campaign to make publishing more green. This is something I can fully get behind! I'll have to see if Ballantine uses ancient forest-friendly paper...

The Veteran's Day piece Medea Benjamin and I wrote together was picked up by The Nation.

I hope this Veteran's Day will give many people a chance to reflect on the tragic, unnecessary war in Iraq. Let's use our outrage and heartbreak to help bring our brave troops home. Please consider writing to your representatives to ask what they are doing to get us out of this quagmire. You can find a directory of elected officials here.

An exciting writing day. I received the first batch of Self Storage revision notes from my wonderful editor this morning. It's so cool to begin that process! And I had an epiphany about one of the characters in my novel-in-progress; now I understand his motivation more clearly, which helps a lot. The characters are slowly coming into focus for me, and I'm enjoying spending time with them.

Several more GCC visits are on the horizon; for now, you can read the story behind The Book of Dead Birds over at MJ Rose's site, Backstory.

I learned from Martha O'Connor that today is Blogging for Diabetes Day, organized to raise awareness about the disease. Diabetes has affected many people on my mother's side of the family (including my mom, who was recently diagnosed, herself. Happily, she is able to control her blood sugar levels through diet and exercise.) Seven years ago, I wrote a poem about my own fear of contracting the disease; I'll share it here in honor of today's widespread diabetes blogging. The poem originally appeared in Reflections on a Life With Diabetes. All of the italicized words are Sylvia Plath's.

Cut, With Sugar
after Sylvia Plath

What a thrill--
My thumb instead of an onion,
Except I wasn't slicing onions--
There wasn't a knife at all,

But sugar, I actually cut myself
With sugar, the crystals
We had grown in a jar,
Attempting to make rock

Candy. I suppose we hadn't
Dissolved the sucrose enough,
So instead of clinging
To the seed crystals

On the wooden stick,
The sugar stuck itself
Everywhere, turning the whole
Jar into a sweet, jagged, geode.

When I tried to pull some
Out for the kids
With a spoon, a shard
Broke off and wedged itself

Into my thumb.
I was surprised
By how much sugar
Could hurt,

How much it still hurts.
This tiny red line,
This supposed sweetness,
Betrays a great aching

Maw. Oh my
Homunculus, I am ill,
Writes Plath, but I hope
I am not. Please

Let this not be an omen.
Sugar in the blood

Has plagued my mother's family
For generations--my grandfather's legs

Cut off, my cousin's
Seven-month fetus dead,
My aunt Sylvia the most recent
Diagnosee. Her last name is Thall--

Almost an anagram for Plath,
Come to think of it, if you
replace an L with a P. I doubt Plath
Was a former show girl, though,

Doubt she could do the splits well
Into her fifties, before the adult
Onset diabetes kicked in.
Of course, Plath didn't even make it

To that age. I will be thirty
This year. Thirty, Plath's last year,
And I am just starting
To feel like an adult--The thin

Papery feeling.
I am, I suppose, an onset adult,
And I can feel
The balled

Pulp of my heart
Confront its small
Mill of silence.
Oh my god, please.

Please.
I don't want
to be
this sweet.

Yay, California voters!!! I'm so delighted that we were able to say No to Arnold--every single proposition failed. The people have spoken; what a wonderful sound.

Our polling place is the American Legion hall, in the park down the street from our house. I'ts a wonderful funky old building with a ballroom that features the biggest disco ball I have ever seen in my life (and it's a cool disco ball, too--handmade, with shards of mirror pieced together, mosaic-fashion.) We have been voting there for years, and thought we knew the whole building, but last night, a volunteer led us down a hallway to a world we had no idea existed. There is a whole rat-pack era lounge in the back, complete with black vinyl barstools and a pool table and rat-pack era clientele. It felt like stumbling into a David Lynch movie, or falling down a rabbit hole. They serve tacos on Tuesday night, steak dinners on Friday night (not sure if they have anything I can eat that night; a baked potato, maybe),and breakfast on Sunday mornings. We are huge fans of breakfast out, and had no idea there was a place we could walk to on Sunday morning for a plate of eggs. I love making unexpected discoveries like this! Matt went back later last night with our friend Dave to surprise him with the place. Sadly, they weren't able to sit down with a beer; it turns out the lounge is only open to American Legion members at certain hours (although the meals are open to the public). Maybe we can get a membership, since my dad is a WWII veteran. Or maybe my anti-war activities would prevent that from happening. We'll see...

Speaking of veterans, you can take a sneak peek at the Veteran's Day op-ed I co-wrote with Medea Benjamin here. I'll let you know where it lands on Friday.

My brother just sent some great photos from our softball game (heretofore known as Buzzball)--you can see a couple above. He also sent a great description of the game--when I wrote about it yesterday, I was all swept up in the emotion of the experience; Jon captured the gorgeous mayhem of it here:

Buzzball is a rare form of 16" softball where there is only one team. People play whatever position they feel like playing in the moment and can bat at any time by saying, "I want to bat now." They can also leave the field whenever they want by simply thinking quietly to themselves, "I'm thirsty," or "I'm tired." Since there is no opposition, there is no real advantage to obtaining outs. On the other hand, if you want to tag someone out you can without too much impact on the team. This is because...

1) Since there is no opposition, your team can withstand an unlimited number or outs during the course of one gigantic inning of play.
2) Even if you tag someone out they can continue running the bases if they feel like it.

Finally, the game ends when everyone has wandered off the field. A typical score might be 29, or, if no one is paying too much attention, 6 or maybe 4. Ultimately, our plan is to form an international league, where we can compare our team's score with the score of another team in some other part of the world.

In any case, Buzzball is underway, and our founding father, Buzz, is in fine form, as all can see.

Photo key: In the top picture, my parents give each other high fives after one of them smacked the ball into the ether (they both had some excellent at-bats. My mom had a great warm-up wiggle, too!) I am at first base, ready to cower from the ball.

The bottom picture is post-Buzzball giddiness. In the top row, you will find Papa Buzz, himself (in his genuine Cubs jersey), my husband Matt (in the Bummer t-shirt I picked up at the Green Fest), and my son Arin (I wasn't planning on turning this into a fashion log, but as you can see, he is rocking the Cellular skate shop tee). In the bottom row, you will find game-organizer and -documentarian brudda Jon (not sure who he's wearing), my daughter Hannah (in a Japanese baseball jersey I picked up in Greenwich Village when I was 18; the velvet characters supposedly translate into "Big Construction"), me (note the Vote shirt!), and sister-in-all Magdalene (sporting a CODEPINK shirt under her sweatshirt.)

Not pictured in these shots, but with us and looking fabulous (not to mention playing fabulous), were my mother in law, Patricia, my sister-in-law Heather, and her kids, Maggie and Otto.

Viva la Buzzball!

More hot girl-on-Girlfriend Cyber Circuit action:

A new interview with me is up at Tamara Siler Jones' blog; there's also a nice mention from Deborah LeBlanc. More to come, including my top 10 desert-island albums, and my dream Jeopardy categories. Stay tuned...

Happy Election Day! Don't forget to get to the polls. You might want to even consider becoming a Poll Observer. This information is from CODEPINK:

Did you know that we can go INSIDE polling places as OBSERVERS? (Sec. 14294)

There has been lots of discussion about the offensive Diebold machines, but not much lately about all the other 'glitches'. Voter disenfranchisement, intimidation, last minute polling place changes, long lines, names missing from the roster, etc... So if you can make it to be an observer at your neighborhood polling place... the important point is end of day, grab a good book, (eat something, you will be there late), a friend and go to your polling place at around 5PM.

The following was taken from the LA County Registrar's instructions to the official poll workers.

Following that is the protocol for closing up. Print it out and take with you so you can make sure what you see what's supposed to be happening. Watch carefully. Be like a fly on the wall and report back any 'irregularities' to Sarah (310) 204-5674 (leave on msg machine).


*POLL WATCHERS AND OBSERVERS (the following from the registrar's instructions)

"In addition to those officially designated by political organizations as "Poll Watchers," anyone may observe the electoral process at polling places.

Poll Watchers may look at the Roster of Voters as long as the voting process is not delayed. They may not at any time handle voted or unvoted ballots. Only voters and Pollworkers may be in the area of the voting booths or the Ballot Box. Only Pollworkers and persons signing the Roster may sit at the table used by the Board. Poll Watchers may be present before the polls open and after the polls close and throughout the voting day.

Cooperate with Poll Watcher requests as long as they do not interfere with the normal voting process and do not violate the Elections Code.

In your Election Guide & Checklist you are instructed to post a single copy of the Street Index. You are also instructed to draw a line through the name of each voter who has voted on the posted copy of the Street Index every hour up until 6 p.m.

This is required by California State Elections Code (Sec. 14294) and assists political campaign representatives and/or members of the public in knowing who has voted. Campaigns use this information in their "Get Out the Vote" efforts. Please keep your Street Index current and cooperate with those who are seeking this information."

If you get there before 5, ask to see this list and count the number of people who have voted so far. Save the number and call it in to Sarah (213) 804-7824 -leave message precinct number, number voted out of how many and time of day. If you can and are so inspired, stay until the polls close and observe the way the polling place is closed. Click here for a pdf of how the polls are regulated to be closed- so you can truly be in the know and ensure this election is handled correctly. We are the people, and it is our responsibility to watch the elections closely and carefully.

The GCC tour continues! You can read an interview with me at my friend Martha O'Connor's blog (Martha, as you probably remember, is author of the amazing novel, The Bitch Posse). You can also see a nice mention at Johanna Edwards' blog. More to come!

For those of you in California, you can find a handy, progressive voting guide for tomorrow at Speak Out California. The most important thing to remember is this: Nix the First Six (No on Props 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, and 78.) Please be sure to get to the polls. We need to stop our Governator's power-grabbing.

Girls rock!!! Last week, I read an article about how a group of teenage girls had organized a girlcott against Abercrombie & Fitch, who were selling shirts with demeaning slogans, like "Who needs brains when you have these?" and "I make you look fat."

"We're telling [girls] to think about the fact that they're being degraded," Emma Blackman-Mathis, the 16-year-old co-chair of the group, told RedEye on Tuesday. "We're all going to come together in this one effort to fight this message that we're getting from pop culture."

Guess what? It worked!

I woke up today with a sore hamstring (that word always makes me shudder a bit), but a full and happy heart. My brother organized a softball game yesterday in honor of our dad's recent 86th birthday; not too long ago, our dad had told him that some of the purest moments in his life had been when he played softball as a kid. The rest of the world melted away, he said; all he had to focus on was the game, the moment. My brother wanted to help him recapture that feeling. That was the true gift of yesterday (along with the sunshine and the wonderful food)--being in the game, in the moment, playing with family. How often do we get to really play with people we love? It was intergenerational mirth, from my two year old nephew running around with a foam bat, to my dad cracking line drives all the way across the field (with the bat he used in Wrigley Field, his name embossed into the wood.) He wasn't sure he still had it in him at 86; it was a thrill to watch him discover that it is still there.

My dad went to Cubs Fantasy Camp when he was 65. He has been a lifelong Cubs fan, so it truly was a dream come true to play with Ernie Banks and other Cubs luminaries at their spring training camp. And to later have the chance to play a reunion game in Wrigley Field itself--and hit a powerhouse single there--was an overwhelming experience for him (and the rest of the family; I screamed my lungs out in the stands). I was glad that we remembered we had a bag full of his bats, his jerseys, his signed baseballs from the camp, at home; it was great to watch his expression when we unveiled them. He slipped on the home team jersey (with number 14, Ernie Banks' number) before we started to play.

I was 16, and just starting to go out with boys, when my dad went to Cubs Fantasy Camp. I thought of that yesterday as I ran around with my kids, who are getting so big (especially my son, who is 15, and starting to date now, too.) The passage of time boggles my mind. It reminds me that we need to take time to play with the people we love, really play, while we have the chance. I'm so glad we had the chance to do just that yesterday; I hope we'll do it again soon.

My post-Katrina poem, Directions, is currently up at New Verse News.

I have called for the impeachment of George Bush for a long time. When I was at the peace march in Washington, DC, one of the chants I wrote was "Pumpkin, apple, impeach pie/Kick out Bush, he told a lie!" Now 53% of Americans polled feel the same way.

You can be a peach and support the efforts of Impeach PAC. If you don't have the funds to donate now, you can sign a petition (to be sent to Congress) here.

Powells is featuring a lovely essay by Leora Skolkin-Smith, author of Edges: O Israel, O Palestine. I love what she has to say about identity, place, and the senses:

Where do we go, what do think when the outside world demands we define ourselves only by fading borders and fragile, ambiguous nationalities? How to write about what actually matters to us — love and daily life, desire and non-political feelings (like maybe towards a sibling, or a parent, not just an "enemy" in the news)? What, in the end, is real freedom and true cherished land? For me, it is inside us, those very sensory details, smells, touches. Writing Edges: O Israel, O Palestine (which focused on family conflicts, on people simply thrown into the maelstrom of war without any real purpose for being there except by birth) showed me a way to make my own peace with the problems of self-definition, and how to transcend those literal borders, the burdens of a prescribed "nationality." It was a terrific journey. And now, when people ask me why I spent so much time describing the details and smells of fig trees, limestone, and pine needles instead of the politics of the land, I feel I can say: "Because they are part of me, they are me, where I really lived."

Long after writing The Book of Dead Birds, the Salton Sea area (where much of the novel is set) continues to fascinate me. It is such a compelling landscape, so bleak and beautiful all at once. The poor sea (actually an inland lake; one created by mistake in the middle of the desert) has been plagued by natural and unnatural disasters over the last few decades. Environmentalists and politicians have tried to come up with plans to save the sea, but so far, all of the ideas have been too expensive or too controversial to bear fruit. My friend Iqbal recently sent me this article about a promising development:

UC Riverside scientists are able to improve water quality by 90 percent in the rivers flowing into the Salton Sea, the largest lake in California, by using two kinds of water-treatment chemicals that remove phosphorus and silt from the river water.

Iqbal, who wrote the article as a press release for UCR, quotes Chris Amhrein, professor of soil and environmental sciences:

“The Salton Sea at one time attracted more visitors than Yellowstone National Park,” Amrhein said. “If nothing is done, this sea will shrink, exposing lake sediments that could generate dust and worsen air quality. Fish and fish-eating birds would disappear in 10-30 years, and be replaced perhaps by birds that eat brine shrimp. And the sea would continue to smell, which might even get worse. Doing something to address the Salton Sea’s problems on the other hand could greatly stimulate eco-tourism here and boost the economy of this region.”

I hope it will work! It would be wonderful if the region could come back to life (and less pungent life at that.)

Today, the GCC takes me (so far) to the blogs of Alison Pace, Melanie Lynn Hauser, and my recently-blogged-about friend, Andi Buchanan (who has such sweet things to say. Thank you, Andi!! I can't wait to meet in person.)

The controversial Google Print is up and running (in Beta version). I did a search on my name to see what came up; most of it was expected--my own books, plus a few of the anthologies that contain my work, and some of the books I've blurbed--but there was one surprise on the list: a book called "Challenging Acrostic Puzzles"! The page I supposedly appear on is restricted, so I have no idea what my connection is to the book. It's fun to think that I might be part of a puzzle!

I am still torn about how I feel about Google Print. I can understand why the Authors Guild is upset (to the point of filing suit because they believe it violates copyright law.) Many publishers are up in arms, as well. Google defends itself by writing:

The Google Print program respects copyright. We regret that this group has chosen litigation to try to stop a program that will make books and the information within them more discoverable to the world. Google Print directly benefits authors and publishers by increasing awareness of and sales of the books in the program. And, if they choose, authors and publishers can exclude books from the program if they don't want their material included.

Many legal experts say that Google Print falls well within fair use. I am all for making literature more accessible, and am happy to be able to search books digitally--it makes reseach so much easier. At the same time, I know how the publishing industry is not as robust as it once was, and this (like the recent music file sharing controversies) probably doesn't help matters. As an author who wants to keep publishing, and hopes to be able to make a living that way, I have to be aware of this aspect of things. But as someone who believes information should be widely available, I embrace any movement that can bring more of that to the people.

It's Day Two of my GCC tour! You can read an interview with me over at Shanna Swendson's blog, and check out mentions at Robin and Renee's Shaking Her Assets, and Anne Frasier's blog. I will continue to keep you posted as I travel the Circuit...

After mentioning my own local wild parrots at E Lockhart's site yesterday, I was very sad to hear that the famous wild parrots of Telegraph Hill in San Francisco have had their lives disrupted after one of the trees they considered home was chopped down. I hope this story can have a happy ending; Mark Bittner, who wrote a book about the parrots and was featured in the documentary about them, is doing whatever he can to make that happen:

Bittner, a formerly homeless person and unemployed musician who took to the parrots while he was caretaker of a home on the hill, feeds the birds, has given them names and estimates there are about 200 of them.

"I have to look out for them," he said Wednesday. "They helped me out. Now, I have to help them out."

I am not only hosting a blog book tour today, I am ON a blog book tour today. This is my week to make the rounds of the Girlfriends Cyber Circuit to promote The Book of Dead Birds.

Today, you can read an interview with me at Southern Comfort, the great writing/publishing blog created by Karin Gillespie (who also created the GCC!) You can also read my BIRDfriend list (which was so much fun to write; it covers birds I've had crushes on over the years) over at E. Lockhart's Boyfriend List site (The Boyfriend List is her wonderful post-modern young adult novel; she always asks guest authors to write their own boyfriend lists when they visit her blog. I've been with my husband since I was 19, so I don't have much of a boyfriend list to speak of, but I do have plenty of birds in my past!)

I'll let you know where else I show up!

Update: Alesia Holliday and recent GCC visitor Megan Crane are also gracious enough to host me today! More to come...

It's my delight to play host(ess) today to my friend Andi Buchanan's Blog Book Tour. Andi is currently winging through cyberspace to spread the word about her fabulous new anthology, IT'S A BOY: Women Writers on Raising Sons (and I am not just saying it's fabulous because I contributed an essay to the book. It's a funny, honest, sometimes heart-wrenching collection about the joys and challenges of mothering a son. Contributors include such luminaries as Caroline Leavitt, Rochelle Shapiro, Susan Ito, Jacquelyn Mitchard, and many others.)

You can read Andi's wonderful introduction to IT'S A BOY here, and a great Q & A about the anthology (complete with adorable pictures of Andi and her two kids) here.

My essay in the book, "Zen and the Art of Extracurricular Activities", explores my attempt to reconcile my identity as a pacifist with my son's desire to learn archery and play paintball. Happily, Arin has drifted away from these violence-tinged pursuits since I wrote the essay, but now I have another similar dilemma on my hands. My husband is the proud owner of a new air pellet gun, which his friend gave him for his birthday. He has promised not to shoot at any living creatures (I am going to have to show him the recent Comment a couple of posts down about the lasting regret that can come from shooting a bird with such a gun). He prefers inanimate targets. Still, I hate to see that clear plastic weapon, which sits on his desk right across the office from my desk, a canister of pellets next to it looking suspiciously like candy. Of course, my son is intrigued by the gun and has shot it a few times in the back yard. Of course I cringe any time either of them pick it up. My daughter, like me, has no interest in the thing.

Living with boys--and I'm counting my husband as a boy in this case--is a constant learning process. Like Andi, I grew up without boys in the house (my half-brother was grown by the time I was born), and boys always seemed like such alien creatures to me. I never had an ultrasound when I was pregnant with Arin, but I knew from the beginning that he was a boy. I could feel it. I could feel that I was in for a grand and wild adventure. I was right. Having a son is like landing on a whole new planet. It's a planet I love, a planet I am so happy to be able to explore, but it's definitely foreign ground. Now that Arin is a teenager, the ground feels even more uncharted to me, but he's an excellent (not to mention tall--how did he get so tall?!) tour guide. It's a real privelege to share this house with him, to watch him grow into a kind and funny and intelligent man. He may become a man who shoots off a pellet gun every now and again, but I know he has a healthy respect, and a healthy desire, for peace in the world, as well.

Andi, who is the author of the groundbreaking momoir, Mothershock: Loving Every (Other) Minute of It, has two more books coming out over the next several months--Literary Mama: Reading for the Matenally Inclined, and IT'S A GIRL: Women Writers on Raising Daughters. I am lucky enough to be represented in both of them. I'll be sure to share more info when the books come out. As if she's not busy enough, Andi is also working on a novel--you can read a tantalizing excerpt here. She has just embarked upon National Novel Writing Month, which I'm thrilled about, because I can't wait to read the rest of the story.

Good luck, Andi, with NaNo, with the Blog Book Tour, with mothering, with everything! It is a pleasure to know you.

The Legacy of Silent Spring.

Carson did not want to write Silent Spring. True, she was painfully aware of the indiscriminate use of pesticides, and had proposed articles on the problem to the magazines that she was writing for, as far back as the late 1940s, but Silent Spring was in many ways not her kind of project. In her great sea trilogy, Under the Sea Wind, The Sea Around Us and The Edge of the Sea, a singular voice emerges, at once rigorous and lyrical, a voice she had come to know as her own. It was not, in so many ways, the right voice for a "crusading" book on DDT.

By 1957, however, the pesticide problem was totally out of hand, and as an attempt to prevent an infestation of gypsy moths in the city of New York clearly demonstrated, "The gypsy moth," Carson wrote,

"is a forest insect, certainly not an inhabitant of cities. Nor does it live in meadows, cultivated fields, gardens or marshes. Nevertheless, the planes hired by the United States Department of Agriculture and the New York Department of Agriculture and Markets showered down the prescribed DDT-in-fuel-oil with impartiality. They sprayed gardens and dairy farms, fishponds and salt marshes. They sprayed the quarter-acre lots of suburbia, drenching a housewife making a desperate effort to cover her garden before the roaring plane reached her, and showered insecticide over children at play and commuters at railway stations. At Setauket a fine quarter horse drank from a trough in a field which the planes had sprayed: ten hours later it was dead."

This was probably the single event that most influenced Carson to embark properly on Silent Spring. "There would be no peace for me," she said, "if I kept silent."

In raising her voice, Rachel Carson was able to give voice to the Spring, as well. May we continue to keep her legacy alive (so we can keep our planet alive).

Mice can sing!. I was fascinated by this study, that discovered that male mice sing to their mates (in a pitch inaudible to humans):

If the analysis by the researchers is confirmed, mice can be added to the short list of creatures that sing in the presence of the opposite sex, including songbirds, humpback whales, porpoises, insects and, possibly, bats.

"There was joy in this discovery," Holy said. "We didn't expect it."

Aren't those the most joyful discoveries--the unexpected ones?!

The researchers say that this discovery may help neurobiologists understand how the human brain learns language. This is exciting--I love learning new things about how the brain works, how language works. At the same time, I hate the thought of mouse brains being experimented upon. The first protests I ever attended were animal rights protests at the Northwestern University labs. Maybe these experiments can be done by MRI?

Despite the ramifications, it's nice to know there is more song in the world than we had realized. There is so much we can't hear, so much we don't understand, so much for us to explore more deeply...

(And, no, I have no idea what a "pingle" is! Must be mouse language...)

Good luck to everyone participating in National Novel Writing Month! May it be a fun and fruitful 30 days. Writing 50,000 words in a month is quite an insane undertaking, but it's a wonderful kind of insanity. NaNoWriMo has given me so much (including a book deal! I wrote the first draft of my forthcoming novel, Self Storage, during NaNoWriMo in 2003. The NaNo FAQ page says I wrote it in 2004, but that's okay. That's the year I wrote the draft that ended up selling. At the end of that first November, it definitely wasn't in sellable condition!) You can read more about my NaNo experiences in Chris Baty's great book, No Plot? No Problem! A Low-Stress, High-Velocity Guide to Writing a Novel in 30 Days.

I'm not signing up for NaNoWriMo this year because I will be deep in Self Storage revisions--my editor's notes should arrive any day now. I can't wait to dive back into the story! In the meanwhile, I'm trying to write as much of my new novel as possible, but I don't think I can commit to 50,000 words this month and still keep all the hair on my head.