Inspirational Quote of the Week

“That however small the chance might be of striking lucky, the chance was there.”

~Roald Dahl~

I believe in luck. Mom does too. She buys lottery tickets, picks up lucky pennies, sails through amber traffic lights, and goes with her gut on life decisions. Most days she just feels lucky to be where she is, how she is, and who she is.

That said, she is waiting patiently (NOT patiently) for her ideas to gel, her stories to develop, and the right piece to end up in the right hands at the right time. THAT will be a lucky day.

My luckiest day was when I was rescued from the kill-shelter in Georgia,

At the shelter with my puppies. They got adopted. I was left behind.

and my other luckiest day was when Mom found me at a Saturday rescue event at PetSmart.

My Gotcha Day. Home sweet home at last…

At my forever home, I am lucky every day. I don’t eat the lottery tickets, even when they fall on the floor. I lick lucky pennies, even though they are named “Filthy.” I sail through amber traffic lights since I have no choice and go with my gut on life decisions, mostly because my brain is so tiny.

Chances to be lucky are always there, just like Roald Dahl says. When Mom is cooking, my lucky day is when I get some FloorFood. Lots and lots of times she says, “Don’t lick the floor.” and, “Stop slurping like a weirdo.” and “Oops! Come and lick this up, please.”

Yeah. I thought so…. #floorfood

My new coat was a lucky find, since there is a crazy cold snap in my neighborhood, and I have been shivering a lot on my walks. I am warm and cozy in my new sherpa-lined coat.

I am lucky that Mom takes me for road trips to lots of pretty and fun parks near our house

and also she takes me lots of other places too. Covid taught us about curbside pickups and drive through foods. So much fun! Plus sometimes there are PupCups and ice cream cones. But even when all I get is the bottom of the coffee cup or the smell of the oatmeal, I am lucky to be along for the ride and not waiting alone at home.

Inspirational Quote of the Week

“Whatever pool of possibility stands before you, jump in!”

~Marianne Williamson~

Mom jumped in and submitted a few stories in the past few weeks. We didn’t hear back yet, but things inside the wheels and gears (whatever) of the computer stand no chance at all.

With things out in the world of books, there’s a chance that something will A. be good enough, B. get into the right hands, and C. land in the right place at the right time. If none of those things happen, we are no worse off than before, and Mom will feel like she’s a writer because writers take those chances all the time.

Win or lose, we will smile through and keep on hoping. And jumping.

Mom doesn’t like when I jump from high places. She says it gives her 6 strokes and 4 heart attacks every time. But when she plops me up on top of a rock, it’s awful tempting to make a jump for it.

Ditto when I leap onto a bench. Jumping is fun.

When Mom calls me I will jump and run every time. That is not my fault. It’s what she taught me.

Once on my walk I tried to jump up and catch a bird. I have also jumped up to try and catch a butterfly, a helicopter, and a hot air balloon flying over my house. If (When) it doesn’t happen, I am no worse off than before.

So, win or lose, I smile through and keep on hoping. And jumping.

“Those who don’t jump will never fly”

~Unknown~

 

 

Five Word Friday

This month, Mom is challenging herself to get a story ready to submit somewhere. Our five words are from one of the stories that made the cut as a possibility.

Cloud – When clouds come and cover the sun, they interfere with my street naps.

Mom is always happy when the sun goes behind a cloud because then I get up and start walking. When the sun comes back, I hit the deck again.

Garden – Mom has a whole garden of stories and poems inside her computer. The challenge is to sort through them and pick a good one. Sometimes in a garden, the flowers die off. That happens with stories, too. Mom doesn’t want to submit a dud.

No duds here…

Popped – Last week, I had surgery to remove a bump from my chest. I had a bunch of staples in there to hold the cut together. The vet told Mom not to let me jump around. Mom and I both knew that was just crazy talk. As soon as I got home, I popped up onto the chair and have popped up and down all over the place ever since.

Mom did waste spend $70 on a ramp, but I only use it when she tells me to.

Puddles – I like puddles. Even though I dread bath day – leaving drippy, soapy, sloppy puddles everywhere almost makes it worth the torture.

Sky – Since we live on top of a hill, we look at the sky a lot. I mostly look for sunshine. Mom sees planets, stars, sunrises,

storms,

rainbows,

and sometimes, planets and the space station. Plus we always need a reminder about where we should be reaching.

 

Inspirational Quote of the Week

 

More…. I LOVE more. It’s my favorite thing.

More treats.

More sweaters.

More walks at the park.

More toys.

More naps.

More playing. More. More. More.

Mom loves more, too. More ideas.

More time.

More writing.

More submitting.

More acceptances. More. More. More.

She’s thinking about doing more learning with 2 challenges in January. If she joins 12×12 and does Storystorm, she will end up with 30 more ideas and 12 more first drafts.

That’s a lot of …more.

Strategy

Even though my brain is very tiny, and I am not a great problem solver, I am able to devise a strategy for survival when necessary. Surviving was the name of the game when I lived on the street by myself for three years before I was rescued.

Me at the high-kill shelter with my puppies.

Mom is surviving as a writer. Even though she hasn’t had a story published in a while, she plugs away – writing, revising, editing, and submitting. And reading, researching, critiquing, and creating. That’s her strategy.

My strategy changes from time to time. I like to stay proactive and flexible.

Often, I hide – under cars…

behind the bleachers…

and half under the bed…

Nobody will ever find me here.

I watch – the ceiling…

through the window…

and out the door…I’ve also had success with my strategy of staring with…

and without the head tilt…

I’m known for keeping my distance…

Keep reading. I’ll just listen from over here behind the chair…

stealth…

and straight-up stubbornness.

Mom should step up her strategy game. Apparently, plugging away isn’t proactive and flexible enough!

I’m fine. I swear. It’s not too cold for a street nap. #staystubborn

 

 

Five Word Friday

Last week, Mom had an opportunity to submit a story to an editor Above the Slushpile. That means her work wouldn’t be buried under everybody else’s as much as usual. It’s nice to have a story rise up there and be seen, but even then, it has to shine on its own.

Paws crossed that this one is shiny!

Today’s five words come from that story…

11. Boy – Lots of times, when I am working at the VA, the old soldiers say to Mom, “Look at this guy.” and “What’s his name?” They actually think I’m a boy! I need to always wear a sundress with 3 layers of ruffles to make sure they realize that I’m a girl.

16. Cake – I love cake. Sometimes, I have to fight with Mom to get her to share. If the cake is chocolate, the deal is off,

Bummer!

but sometimes, I’m allowed to jump in

and grab some whipped cream.

Oh yeah!

86. Book – Mom reads picture books like crazy – piles and piles of them – usually 200 a year. It’s a good way to make her writing better, to see what’s out there, and to pass the time while she tries to write and sell the elusive Book #2.

91. Nibble – I think nibbling is for amateurs. I don’t nibble. I gobble. After Mom writes a story, she hides it from herself for a while to let it rest. Then she nibbles at it – adding things, taking things away, and changing things around. Picture books need to make room for the illustrations to help tell the story. More nibbling. Or gobbling.

M-m-m-m… Tiny pancake. Nom. Nom. Nom.

65. Messy – First drafts can be messy. They’re supposed to be messy. Messy and stupid and even embarrassing, sometimes. If I get messy, Mom sticks me in the bathtub and scrubs me clean and puts conditioner on me and dries me with towels. #itshorrific

Inspirational Quote of the Week

We are not what we think, or what we say, or how we feel. We are what we do.

~Gordon Livingston~

Nailed it, Livingston! What we do matters – waaaay more than all that other stuff.

So when Mom sits down and writes something new or fixes something old or submits something she likes or works with her critique group named LindaVijiJenConnieandOtherJen, she is a straight-up writer.

Me being a straight-up writer.

Sometimes, she sits on the balcony and reads her Kindle.

Sometimes, we go to the park.

Sometimes, she teaches me tricks.

Sit up.

Find the cookie.

Not really a trick, but I just really want to come inside.

Sometimes, we play.

Sometimes, we work as a therapy team.

Did somebody say eggs? And ham?! Yes, please…

Sometimes, we shop.

Sometimes, she leaves me alone like a dog, and reads books at the bookstore which I’m pretty sure is a hop, skip, and a jump from stealing.

Is she a writer then? Well, not a straight-up writer, but still a writer. She says, “I’m getting ideas” and “I need to keep it fresh” and “Staying current is important” and “I’m mind-writing” and “Let’s get moving, weirdo. We’re burning daylight, here!”

*sigh*

 

 

Inspirational Quote of the Week

Don’t think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It’s self-conscious and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can’t try to do things. You simply must do things.

~Ray Bradbury~

Thinking is SO overrated. I avoid it at all costs. Mom asks me “What were you thinking?” all the time. I try to tell her, “Nuthin'” but I’m not sure she understands. What is she thinking I’m thinking? She needs to stop thinking.

Captured under a walker?

Nuthin’…

Head caught in a shopping bag?

Nuthin’…

Squished under a chair?

Nuthin’…

Too close to the edge?

Nuthin’…

It’s really pretty simple, actually. Don’t think. Just do.

Mom is doing things these days, too. Just doing. Not thinking. She’s partway through a new story and partway through a new poem. And she submitted a couple of things last week, too. She found them in the computer, fixed them up all shiny and new and sent them on their way out into the world for people to judge. She will do the same when she gets to the end of her latest story and poem. First she will make sure there’s enough conflict and a surprise ending twist. Then off they go. Not thinking is fun.

Except when you head face first into the sticker bush by the lake….

Ouch. Not fun…

 

 

 

 

Waiting

It’s tough to wait. Waiting to have time to write, waiting to get an idea, waiting to hear what the characters want to do, waiting for a story to be finished – They’re all tough.

Waiting for a response from a publisher or an agent – also tough. But Mom does it. All writers do.

Sometimes she waits by reading picture books at home. Sometimes, she visits the bookstore.

She talks to kids and listens to kids. She does work with her critique group online. And of course, she watches TV. That’s a great waiting activity – especially this time of year.

Mom always has the choice of playing with me while she waits. I like practicing my tricks and walking around the neighborhood

and napping.

And of course, I watch TV. And I watch Mom watch TV.

Fascinating!

For the next couple of weeks I will be waiting in overdrive. Waiting for Santa!

I hope he brings treats and toys and maybe a new dress for me. I’m sure most of my furfriends and humanfriends are also waiting for Christmas. And if The Big Guy brings an opportunity for Mom, that would be good, too. Either way, the working and playing and talking and listening and practicing and napping and watching and waiting will continue…

C’mon, Santa!

Birthday

I wish (for Mom’s sake) that this was a post about a Book Birthday. It’s been flat-out ages since we’ve had one.But it’s not. She’s still a writer, though. She gets ideas, writes brand new stories, fixes up ratty old stories, works with her critique group, submits stories to publishers, agents, and Rate Your Story, and does author visits at schools. That’s pretty much what writers do, so there’s that.

The birthday today, is MINE. Actually, I’m counting this whole week as my birthday week. On September 25th, I turned 11 years old. I got to wear my birthday balloon/cupcake dress,

and got a new stuffed bunny with FIVE squeakers.

Mom enjoys it a lot and says the word, “Look at the cute bunny!” and “Do you like your new toy?” and “Stop it! SHUT THAT THING UP!” That’s good… Right…? She likes it so much that sometimes she threatens to throw it in the garbage. Wait. What?

Also, there was cake – whipped cream, strawberries, custard, the whole 9 yards.

For my birthday road trip, we went for a ride to the reservoir where I had a staring contest with a baby turtle, and met lots of people who petted me and said I was cute.

Get serious, turtle. I have never lost a staredown.

For Mom’s birthday writing time, she revised an old story about a birthday party gone wrong. She said that maybe my birthday will bring it some good luck.

I could use some luck, here, right about now…

My birthday has been so amazing that I’m planning to turn 11 again next year! Plus, when I blew out my candle (I think Mom did the actual blowing because the flame scared me), I wished for a Book Birthday real soon.

Nom, nom, nom…