Book Cover

Text needs to be fixed but the general idea is here.

Book Covers

Book Cover Choices!

So the search for a decent book cover continues.... and continues and continues. My publishing website will let me use templates but they only save one cover at a time - even if you email it or otherwise try to secure images. Thus.... comparing has been hard. Here's what I've done with my own editing software for the front. Tell me what you think about these. If I can, I'll be trying to upload some of the templates too but right now - that's a whole 'nother issue.

Sunny Days and Stormy Nights, Part 2

I woke the next morning later than I wanted but still excited about working that I forgave myself for oversleeping. The day didn't start off with the same sort of bang. I searched for breakfast with Pop and ended up working on cleaning the kitchen. Then I went to my room to finish formatting before my sister came for a visit. She brought me a lot of clothing from her closet and wanted me to try them on so she could take what didn't work to Goodwill. I tried them on, finding some suits that fit nicely, thinking they'd work well for book signings.

Sarah said they'd go nicely for a job interview.

Which got my brain back on the merry-go-round of should I try to look for a job and if so, where and would that tie me down and how would that affect my writing, acting and general life. Should I just hang on a little longer and see if I can start selling the ebooks I've almost gotten published really well?

She asked if I wanted to go to goodwill with her, because she was going to drop off some boxes I've had waiting to go for weeks. So I said yes and we went to the car.

Then she said again, "I think God's preparing you for an office job with all those clothes."

And - in the way I normally do when family confronts something I'm already super stressed about I snap, "Can we not talk about jobs?"

And it goes down from there.

But God showed me a lot of things yesterday.

I snap at my sister too much, assuming everything she says is going to be critical.

I don't see what people do to be kind to me - like giving up clothing they liked so I would have nice things to wear.

I need to figure out how to be a family again and be involved in their lives as well.

I also got a reality check at how the world sees writers who aren't making much money and have no "real job." Now I'm back in the whirlwind of finding out how to be responsible and independent while investing time and energy into something that doesn't have immediate paybacks. I have to figure out where I want to settle down between Seguin and Palacios (or Hong Kong or Tin Buck Two).

I have to figure out what God wants me to be doing and how to be brave enough to follow him no matter what he says. To that aim, I set out today back to the river armed with only my Bible. I wish I could say that I had this great conversation where every verse I read made since, where I knew exactly what God was saying and thought it was all great and where fear and doubt didn't set in. I did wrestle with some things, giving them up to God whether or not they are bad in themselves or simply something that I was clinging onto more than God.

I prayed about sins and negative emotions that were ruling me.

I still don't know what to do about staying or leaving. I have to be here till the end of October because of the play. Though it looks like God's closing the CYT window for now. I'm not sure if it will open again later or why it was closed.

But I guess I'll keep on trying to make sure there's nothing keeping me from hearing God - and waiting to understand what He's saying.

And hope that soon, I'll figure out what I need to do next and be happy doing it.

But overall yesterday was a pretty awful day.

I had fun at rehearsal. We're dancing a real jitterbug in Wizard of Oz and I had a grand old time - though three hours of jitterbugging left me exhausted.

Today I cleaned my room, prayed and then spent some time talking to my brother who's in the same boat as I am.

My grandma's having surgery so soon I'm going with Pop to the hospital. I'll bring along my kindle to look over Across the Distance and make sure it's all ready to go if we have extra waiting time.

So here I am - half calm - half fretting. Feeling great about my books and terrible about my social life. Feeling uplifted and beaten down at the same time.

But I fully intend to have a good day.

Sunny Days and Stormy Nights Part 1

The day before yesterday, was a writer's dream.

I lost track of time... for hours... several times. I woke so excited about writing that I could hardly concentrate on cleaning my room or finding breakfast. I was literally dancing and hopping and I just couldn't wait to write.

It was all part of the emotional roller coaster I've been on this entire last week. Going back to Palacios - seeing old friends, breathing life into my old life. I didn't want to leave Palacios. Though I looked forward to seeing my grandparents and brother and playing Dorothy, that was all.

Again the battle waged in my mind. Do I stay in Palacios which is a peaceful, pleasant town, live in my own house where I can write and search for a job nearby so I can eat?

Or do I return to Seguin where I have family and theater and can help out my grandparents?

I didn't know and as I locked the door on my house - wondering if my parents will end up selling it - and feeling like a homeless gypsy waif - I told myself I wasn't going to cry.

And I didn't - much.

I tried to get excited about all the doors God was opening up here. Heck, I've been in a movie since I came here. It's not a movie I'm even sure I want to watch but life in Seguin more closely resembles what I always pictured for myself.

So why was I feeling so restless?

I didn't know and the two and a half hour trip back to theater and civilization gave me plenty of time to talk to God. I talked. About everything. And then I cried for real. Long story short - I decided I wanted to know what God wanted me to do with my life. I didn't want ANYTHING to stand in the way between me and Him. If he wanted me to give up something, I didn't want it in my life. I didn't want to be controlled by fear or shame or embarrassment or opinions or sin or lust or anything that wasn't from God.

That's exactly what I told Him.

Though I didn't feel any specific answers about what He wanted me to do in my outward life, I felt calmer inwardly. If God is telling me what to do, He'll work it out. I just have to trust and obey - and even though that's not easy, God doesn't give a spirit of fear so I don't have to listen to it.

It's easy in theory anyway. But I felt much calmer that even though I don't know what he's working out - He'll work it out.

Then the next day came. The day I woke at 7:00, dancing with the thought of working on my novels. I went down to the river armed with my alphasmart and kindle. And wrote the last chapter and a half of Across the Distance. Then I came back to the house, deciding to put in 50 corrections of what I had read through the day before on my kindle into the manuscript. So I did... and lost track of time.... and saw I'd done 90... so I kept going... and lost track of time. Then I realized that I had 2 corrections left! I finished them, thinking I was getting days of work done in just a few hours. I finished.

Then thought to start formatting the manuscript, since I'd have to read through it again to make sure the formatting was right. I could check and change any little text problems I saw then. So I formatted. And lost track of time. And before I knew it, it was an hour before I had to leave for the CYT classes. Lauren and Justin came in my room - Justin describing the first day of school in the theater class. Lauren chatting about how excited she was to teach the kids. I was more nervous than excited but I worked to gather my stuff and grab a bite to eat. We had been warned that morning that only a few kids had signed up for our Monday class - most were in the Thursday class. We were preparing for the possibility that our class may not make this session. Ten minutes before we left, Sandi texted to say only one child would be there that night and she hated for us to make the drive for that. So she moved her to the other class and I went back to edit for an hour before rehearsal. CYT cancellation aside, throughout the day I kept thinking, "THIS is what I love. This is the life I want. This flowing, easy, productive writing that doesn't feel like work at all - even if I'm putting in HTML tags that should be very tedious.

I went to rehearsal, getting to see all my friends there that I hadn't seen in two weeks. It was a bit hard jumping in, making blocking notes from Emma, my understudy's, sheet. She shadowed me on stage so I got the general idea of where to go in the scenes that they blocked all last week.

I found something else out as well....

The motion sickness that I've been getting in the car, extends to the stage as well. It's bad people! I'm walking in circles, followed by a line of munchkins around and around the stage, growing bigger and bigger and skipping and getting dizzier and dizzier an sicker and sicker....

By the time I'm waving, my five circles around the stage are leaving the black curtains tilting slightly and Dorothy off just a little as she's trying to wave behind her and find the curtain opening and miss the support beam all at once.

But I got through it, laughing that that could affect me so badly.

Then - we did the twister scene. It consisted of running to imaginary storm cellars, going through an imaginary house and 'falling" onto portable stairs that are serving as a bed and house. I revive, watch random actors crossing the stage trying to figure out who's the chicken and who's the granny in the rocking chair. Cody's doing the boat and it's pretty easy to see him because of the halarious way he's pumping imaginary oars.

Then Cody and Chance grab the stairs and begin spinning it in small circles all around the stage. I'm supposed to scream and act scared.

Now. Two problems here.

One: Growing up I was informed by my mother that if I EVER screamed, she would come running. And if I was not bleeding to death or being kidnapped, I would be in very big trouble. You do not ever scream unless there is a real emergency.

Two: I was a very obedient child - at least in that department.

Three: I'm not a screamer. I rarely even screech. If you truly scare me - I sharply intake my breath and that's it.

The only times I ever remember screaming at all in my life was once in a vocal class when I was finding safe ways to do it onstage. And once when my cat shook it's head, flinging medicine into my eyes to burn them until I was blind. That time, my Mama did come running and almost sobbing herself because I scared her so badly.

So - when I scream... it hurts my voice.

The other problem was: I'm being spun in circles like those teacup rides at the fair that I used to love. And all I can think of is how weak that scream sounds and how sick I'm feeling. The house stops and I get up and "walk" to the porch. Only I feel more like staggering to the porch.

So - if Dorthy looks a little drunk on stage - that's why.

Despite abusing my voice and watching the theater whirl around me and wondering if I'm hurting the ears of the guys who are doing it - I have a blast at rehearsal. And again think, this is what I want my life to be like.

I come home and talk to my grandma... and I'm pretty sure I can't resist formatting just a little bit longer.

Then fell asleep. Hoping tomorrow would be like today.

It wasn't....

Revival of the Big, White, House

Reunion in the Big, White House

Lindsey’s mother often said, “You can never go back. Even if you do, things will never be the same. But when Val called to say she was returning to Texas for a week, the girls decided to try. Thus began the migration to the big, white house. For Val it was a 2:40 minute flight through the clouds. For Lindsey, it was a 2:30 drive on interstate 10.

Things had changed since Lindsey lived in the big, white house. Her stay with her grandparents until summer had continued throughout the summer and now would last through the fall. She had done several theater shows and one film while in Seguin, and was about to embark on 15 week classes teaching basic theater to 6 and 7 year olds. Things were working out for her in Seguin. She was meeting people and getting job opportunities and selling her books. Everything she had wanted in Palacios that hadn’t worked out.

But her heart was still in the big, white house and it was hard to stay away from it.

She’d spent the day before packing for her trip and cleaning the house so her Grandmother wouldn’t be tempted to work with a fractured spine awaiting treatment. Finally, she got on the road just in enough time to get there shortly before Val did.

She hadn’t reached the outskirts of Seguin, however, when she got a nagging voice to check her car fluids. It was most inconvenient. There wasn’t much reason. Ryan had said the oil was fine, they’d just replaced the power-steering pump and hose. She had four different men under the hood that day and the day before.

But she hadn’t checked the transmission. And the nagging voice wouldn’t go away. So she pulled over and checked the transmission fluid. Everything was fine. She got back in the car, started the engine, then thought she may as well check the power steering.

It was about halfway. She refilled it and continued down the road. It was a straight shot on I-10 and the next two hours passed well. Once she got to Houston, she maneuvered easily around traffic. She was just thinking she might not be afraid of Houston any more – she might even be able to live there if any theater draw was strong enough. The hardest part of the drive was the airport and guessing which terminal Val would come in.

Then she turned into the airport parking, only to have the wheel suddenly stiffen. She managed to maneuver it into the paying part and chatted pleasantly with the man who gave admittance. Then Lindsey joined the ranks of people who found out how tricky it is to get to the third floor of an airport parking garage with a car that protests turning. Before she found a parking spot, she was forced to pull a Chinese fire drill, popping the hood, grabbing the bottle from the trunk and filling the power steering with the rest of the liquid. Enough to coax the car into turning but not enough to slay the groaning dragon in the hood or have an easy time getting into a tiny parking space between a monster truck and a little white car that was badly angled to crash into hers at the moment its owner put it into reverse. Several attempts at getting into a good position with lousy steering had Lindsey abandoning all thoughts of arriving calm and collected, especially realizing that if she hadn’t checked the fluids, she wouldn’t be arriving at all and would very possibly be dead. Val texted, WHERE ARE YOU? And received an answer. “Having a panic attack in the parking lot.”

And thus the great reunion at the Big, White House began.

The girls stopped at Sub-Way, then continued on to Lake Jackson to meet everyone at Carinos as tradition demanded. As they pulled into BestBuy, they again found the steering go out. This time it was Val driving who remarked it was odd that the car always went out right as they were turning to arrive. They went to Bestbuy to buy Smallville, then walked over to Wal-Mart for more fluid. At Hastings, they found a used copy of Smallville for much cheaper than Lindsey had gotten hers, so they bought that one and took the other back.

Before they did, however, they decided Texas heat demanded an input of liquid. Lindsey spied something called a raspberry cream dream and was wondering if that was like an Italian cream soda. Val brought up that very choice as her pick so Lindsey got one too.

It was terribly yummy but there was a lot of cream and not enough raspberry. Lindsey drank half of hers and stopped before she got TOO sick. Then they read the misadventures of Stanley and Nichole on Lindsey’s kindle, finding the events much funnier than they should be and giggling over – practically everything.

Lindsey checked out the DVD set from Nick who caught her up on his days after college. Then they returned the first DVD and went into Carinos to warn of a large group of people.

They were seated immediately by a man who looked Erish. Then there was about ten minutes of waiting before Shelby and McCauley arrived early. They had just enough time for basic catching-up when the Jinkins’ arrival was announced by a high-pitched screech from Jami who had no idea anyone she knew was waiting at Carinos – much less Val coming from Wisconsin. Jami clung to Val and Laura giggled over her master-minded success of surprising her girl.

The arrival of Payton, Oliva and Juliana completed the party. They hung out until they bordered on loitering, before moving back to good old Hastings, moving between the shelves of books.

When it was down to the Moore famiy, they moved to Wal-Mart to get a few groceries to last the week. Then was the long drive back with Lindsey’s father texting from the house, “Lindsey, o Lindsey, wherefore art thou?”

Lucky he was down, the girls arrived, put the food away and crashed. Lindsey slept all night as she usually did in Palacios.

The next day was spent in the big, white house, watching a few Smallville episodes from the first season. They walked down to Sonic, then to Super S, effectively covering a good portion of Palacios in 100 degree weather.

Lindsey’s dad picked them up a block from the house, taking them to the library to see if the librarian had kept her promise to order the book.

She had and they found it on the Juvinile shelf – the same ones that housed the Hank the Cowdog books Lindsey had read as a kid. To all outward appearances, no one had checked out the book. Lindsey suggested moving it to the adult section since there was nothing between the books for fourth graders and the adult books.

The left and sat on the front porch a while all chatting. They were getting ready to go eat Mexican food when Terry’s voice shouted from the front yard. “Lindsey come quick!”

Since they’d been moving air conditioners and refrigerators, Lindsey’s first image was her father struggling to keep some piece of furniture from tumbling onto him. She rushed out of the house to see a truck in the front yard, a man getting out of it, her father chasing a small, black cat that for all appearances looked rabid.

A flurry later, the cat was sitting beside them, panting and dehydrated as the man explained that it had crawled up into his car, then jumped out and gotten run over.

They brought it water, waiting for it to calm enough to drink. It didn’t seem interested but when Lindsey brought out food, it perked up.

Watching it, Val remarked that it acting like Charles – and later watching it flit from person to person to the tree stump, chair, step and back that it acted like Lance. This it was dubbed Charleson. He took to the name and immediately made himself at home.

When God says "Don't"

Yesterday I read an ebook about selling ebooks. He explained most of the steps I've been doing - but with a different slant. Last night I was so excited about getting back on the writing road that I couldn't sleep. I lay awake until after 12:30 coming up with ideas, wishing it was morning.

This morning I woke and read the next piece in my chronological Bible. I've been sloshing through Numbers, exasperated between the cycle of the Israelites getting mad or bored or irritated at God and disobeying, which makes God turn around and make their lives harder than they have to be. In turns I go from wishing they could just behave so God could make good on His promise to lead them out of bondage and into the abundant life he wants to give them - and terrified of God because he's handing out these huge lists of detailed laws that would overwhelm me if I had to keep them. Or maybe it's because I know full well, that I act just like them and I don't like the thought of God sending down a blaze at the edge of camp to burn me up.

I set aside my Bible and reached to turn on my computer, planning on listening to yesterday's sermon while I clean my room and then - OH AND THEN - I can get onto all those wonderful plans that I came up with last night that is going to start making me all sorts of wonderful friends and begin selling my books like hotcakes. I'm not even so overwhelmed at the fact that I lost all my notes for changes in Swing and thus have to start reading the entire book over again when I was 70% done with it already.

But something happened. I felt like God was saying, "Don't do that."

Now, when I get a seemingly random command from God that goes against something I'm excited about, I seem to have several reactions all at once.

My first is a startled, childishish, "Why not?"

My second is a flood of answers - some from God, some from me.

My third is the worst. "He doesn't want you to. He doesn't have to give a reason or tell you what to do instead. He's going to take this from you. Maybe you've spent too much time on it. Maybe he wants to show himself strong in the book sales so he gets the glory. Would you give God the glory if you sold millions of books??"

"Why, yes... I ... I would..." *Suddenly pictures self on some TV show going, "I didn't have to do a THING! God sold those books for me. It's all because of what he did and I just sat around for a year until the timing was right and they magically took off."

"Why, yes...." My answer changes, "As long as I could find a non-hokey way to do it."

"Would you really?"

"I... I think so. Does this mean I can't work on my plans though? I mean surely I should be working on SOMETHING."

Then the sinister little voice creeps into my head. 'What if he doesn't WANT you to write those books? What if He's going to tell you not to publish any of them and you'll have to explain to the world that there will be no sequel to Sentarra and when Kael and Tehveor and Darshon pop into your head, you'll have to send them away? What if he has a completely different idea for what you are to do with your life that has nothing to do with your passions? What if He's going to lead your life into something that you hate and you'll be miserable doing but you'll carry on knowing that it's His will? Or what if he does lead you into a life of blessing and abundance but he makes you wander in circles for years before letting you in?"

"Or what if you promise that you'll do what he says - and then break it. It's better not to promise than to break it - even God says that."

And before I know it, I'm paralyzed with fear and distress. Perhaps God doesn't intend any of that at all. Perhaps I misunderstood. Perhaps he means he wants me to do something else for the next hour or day.

And even though I'm reminded that God doesn't give a spirit of fear - but Satan does - and likely Satan is pouring all of these thoughts of sacrificial misery into my head - reminding me of when I was a child and my mom told me that we would be the happiest when we were in God's will.

It horrified me. I was sure we WERE in God's will and I was miserable, feeling like I had to perform all the time and couldn't tell people who I really was. I saw my Dad throwing up from stress caused by his job at the church. If this was the happiest I was ever going to be, I wasn't sure I wanted anything to do with life.

The cycle continued as I got older, with me giving up Erilerre for a time because I thought I was too attached to it and the distressing feeling that it would be hard for me to stop writing would drive me into a battle between choosing it and God. It was continuing a relationship for several more months than it should have been because I was convinced that it was God's will and I was just hearing God wrong -all the while feeling like doing the right thing would require me to give up half of my personality and the things that make my heart sore - because that's what God wanted me to do.

And here I am, facing it again. That desire to follow God, torn with the terror that he's going to ask me to sacrifice the things that make me excited to be alive and put me through trials and misery until I'm all worn out and used up and still failing him.

When I asked, "What do you want me to do instead?" I was met with silence.

I'm not sure what is going on. Which voice belongs to God? Which voice is mine and which is Satan's scaring me back onto the path of safety and hiding my head in the sand.

But one thing that this morning's musings have led me to is:

I don't trust God. I'm afraid of God.

It's not the fear of the Lord that the Bible mentions. It's not reverence for His authority.

It's the cowardice of a dog that longs for relationship with his master - who's inching forward on his belly toward the owner, hoping to be petted but expecting to get kicked.

Where did this fear come from? Is it from a childhood of stifling my desires and fears to become what I knew would be excepted by other Christians? Is it from the cycle of our best ministries ending in the largest heartbreak? Is it being told that God will require me to give up everything that I'm putting ahead of Him and that might stand in the way of His purpose for me - along with the explanation that Satan will attack the hardest when you're doing the most for God? Is it from believing that God will punish me if I'm not perfect? Or that my parents, family and friends will all walk away if I embarrass them or am too needy or admit that I don't believe exactly the way they do? That if I ever have children, they'll grow up resenting me for not being there enough or having enough money to let them do what they want to do or trying to mode them into what I want them to be instead of letting them follow their dreams?

I don't know. Probably a combination of all of them.

But that is not who God is. God sent his son to die on a cross so that my flaws and sins are covered and I don't have to be perfect to approach Him. Where in the Bible did he rain down his wrath on His servants who were trying to obey him? Yes, he let Satan take away everything that Job had - but He gave him more when Job proved himself faithful. I can't think of any time that He let His people sacrifice or suffer without giving them much more in return. The Isrealites complained that they didn't have a varity of things to eat - but they had something. They worshiped a golden calf even while God was providing for them - THAT's why He made them wander around for 40 years. I believe he set out to take them into that abundant life - and their actions were what made the journey so long to get there.

Look at God's promises.

He'll never leave us or forsake us (no matter what we do or how much we deserve it)

He'll provide all of our needs (spiritually, materially and physically)

If we give 10% of what he gives us back to Him, He'll bless us so much we won't have room to hold it.

He'll forgive and not hold any of our past, present or future sin against us - if we just ask.

He'll never sleep.

He'll share His Heavenly kingdom with us for eternity.

He will never give us a spirit of fear but of power, love and a sound mind.

He will never let anyone hurt us unless it's part of His will.

He will use all things - even our mess-ups - for our own good.

He will know every detail about our lives because He cares about every detail of our lives.

He will make us into his image.

He will never lie to us.

He will punish us only to bring us back to where He can continue molding us into something better.

He will not let the curses of other people affect us when we are striving to follow him.

He will move Heaven and Earth to enable us to live His will for our lives.

Nothing - not even Satan - can separate us from His love.

He will never change.

Why would I fear a God like that? When He could be any way that he wanted - have anything that he wanted - that is what He continues to be. If I could know God - truly understand that He is who He says he is - and root out the misconceptions I have of Him.... I would realize how stupid it is for me to fear Him or following His will.

Perhaps that's what he wanted to show me this morning when he said, "Don't do that..."

August 5th

Joseph is over and I found myself glad for the evenings off. But not glad enough to keep me from trying out for "Wizard of Oz." I'm Dorothy and I'm elated to be working with people from the cast of Joseph again. I'm making contacts, already some who may help me with cover art, website design, a group of swing dancers and perhaps a place that will allow me to come in and direct "Swing". If only all this was going on in Palacios.

Sigh.

My life has been changing again lately - smaller changes this time but hopefully ones that will help. I've been concerned about the massive amounts of time spent on the computer. I have been working in the mornings, reading over manuscripts to edit and sending emails to set up book tours and what-not. Then in the afternoons and evenings, there's always that question I want to google for answers - and all my friends who are only accessible over cyber-land. When I'm not at rehearsal or cleaning the house, I've been on the computer.

I have very good eyesight and I've been worried about the toll of looking at a screen all day. Since I want to be an author forever, I don't see that is going to change any time soon. What's been bothering me worse than my eyes is my back. I've tried all sorts of desks, chairs, excercise balls, but most of the time, I end up sitting on my bed and typing. Thus staying in front of the computer all day and as cozy as it is to go between editing on my kindle (more on that later) to reaching over to type out a story reply, it's been taking a toll.

I decided to see what I could do about it. Using some of the savings from what I earned for the CYT camp, I invested in a kindle.

My reasons were threefold. First, I could upload my own stories, read through them without a backlit screen and put in notes on what needs to be changed. This keeps me from skimming over the computer. I can even tell the kindle to read it to me and listen for missing words or repeats that I might not notice just reading. I put in a note any changes and later will go to the computer where I can type them in from the note list that is so conviently pulled up. It keeps me from having to spend $30 for an ink cartage or ending up with hundreds of pages I'll only look over one time before they're updated and outdated.

The second reason is that now that I have a kindle, I am free to check and make sure my novels will look good on them. I better understand what I'm trying to format for. After spending 20-30 on a book that told me everything about publishing on kindle, except how to format it, I bought a kindle book for 2.99 that shows you how to copy and paste the basic HTML codes into a template.

Thus, after months of various complete reformats, The Calling is finally available for sale on kindle from a format that took me two days. It would have taken me less except that my computer shut off and kicked me from chapter 31 all the way back to chapter 10.

But if something worked right the first time for me, - well, it wouldn't be me.

The last reason is because I've been wanting a kindle for years - I just couldn't justify the price until I realized how I could use it for my own writing instead of simply reading others.

This is how I have cut down screen time for the editing process. It helps my back because I can move around from chair to chair - or even take a sheet and lay outside as I did today.

The other thing I'm experimenting with retraining my back is that I have put my computer at a higher level and taken away chairs all together. Thus, I'm standing while I write this. I don't know if it will be perminant or how it will work out but I'm going to test it for a while. I've read that it keeps you more focused and while I have mixed feelings about that, I'd like to see. It does reduce the urge to check out random webpages or sit staring are your email waiting for a reply. It encourages more movement even small ones like shifting.

And I won't be spending hours standing in front of it, thus I'll be naturally be taking more breaks.

We'll see what happens.

I've been trying to find ways to work more excercise into daily activities. Yesterday we went tubing down the river. Most of the river, you can actually stand up in and there's a very soft current that carries you downstream. Instead of tubing all the way yesterday, I threw my tube onto another empty one and Lauren, Kayla and Justin and I spent a good portion in the water. I can't tread water for long without getting tired but I pushed myself and then hung on to the tube while I kept kicking. We had a lot of fun and I couldn't help thinking about young Terrant floating down to get out of enemy camps, or the slaves from the Civil War trying to loose their scent or Andrew on the Titanic or what if I had fallen off my cruise ship on that last trip.

I've decided I never want to be in water that I can't stand in without something nearby to hang onto. Then Lauren decided when we got back to the house, she was still having fun. So we plotted a picnic and a photo shoot. It turned into a medieval picnic at the learning center and an impromptude photo shoot that didn't turn out too great because of lighting.

I had the brilliant idea of using that tree crossing the creek to take a photo of Justin at once side and Lauren at the other. Just a few feet off the water was only about two inchs so I could stand there easily. I handed the camera to Justin, stretching to reach my foot over the deeper part directly under the log. I stepped in a hole, the water jerked my dress down and I got swept half-way under the log, ending up - wet.

For the second time that day. All in all it was a good time and I ended up banishing them from my bedroom at 1:00 this morning.

Thus the reason why I'm sleepy today.

Rehearsal starts Monday.

Before then I'm hoping to reread the first chapter of my book and get it up on YouTube.

And my goal today is to get as much of "Swing" read through as I can. I'll start making the changes soon.