It's That Time of the Year Again

I don't know if you've noticed, but it's almost Halloween. It came as a surprise to me since my brain thinks it's May. How I can think it's spring with this kind of weather, I don't know:  

The pond out back after the snow a couple weeks ago. Notice the steam rising up from it? 

It was cool enough to almost make up for the power being out all day. 

Fall foliage on the mountain. (And our dirt pile 

that makes an excellent sledding hill in the winter.)

But apparently it is almost Halloween and I haven't decided what to wear. We have a big family Halloween party on Saturday that's including a wedding, so I really have to wear something festive.

The problem is, my husband doesn't like any of my suggestions. He says I need to think more "mainstream." I guess my ideas in the past have been a little, uh, unusual:

-Dark matter

-A fish stick

-Mad Cow disease

-Vegeta from Dragonball Z (including the spiking my hair, which was pretty long at the time)

-Blossom from The Powerpuff Girls (my husband and his brother were Buttercup and Bubbles, so he can't blame me too much for that one)

Does anyone have any suggestions for a great costume? Or should I just pull out my old Maleficent costume and terrify the little girls in the neighborhood?

The Great Author Hunt and Extra Pairs of Pants

Earlier this week, I decided to do something crazy and dragged Chersti along with me. Basically it turned into a see-how-many-authors/signings-we-can-see-in-one-day. 200 miles and eleven hours later, I made it home. We'd only been to two signings (although four authors were at one of them) and talked with ten published authors. At least I think it was ten. Counting isn't always a strength of mine.

I didn't tell anyone beforehand what I was doing because:

A) It was crazy.

B) And they would know I was crazy.

Okay, I told Chersti, but only under protest and after admitting said insanity first.

Here's some of the photographic evidence:

Me and Becca Fitzpatrick (author of HUSH, HUSH)

I'm in the back. 

Michelle Hodkins (THE UNBECOMING OF MARA DYER), Chersti Nieveen, 

and Elana Johnson (POSSESSION)

Chersti, James Dashner (THE MAZE RUNNER), and me.

And, yes, in that last picture, I am wearing a Dead Elvises guitar pick around my neck, courtesy of Brodi Ashton. I know you're jealous. Brodi has an amazing book coming out at the beginning of next year. I had the chance to read an ARC of it a couple months ago and I love it. I can't wait to have my own copy!

The strangest thing about the day was that, for some reason, Chersti and I both felt it necessary to bring along a spare pair of pants. Neither of us has any idea why, but we needed to have extra pants with us. I don't even know what we were expecting. I mean, seriously, what reason did our subconscious have for needing extra pants? And why did BOTH of us bring them? (And, no, neither of us needed them. Of course.)

What about you? How has your week been? Have you done anything crazy on the spur of the moment?

Happiness

It's snowing. There's at least an inch on the ground here and I'm cold. I'm also recovering a nasty cold. Very nasty. It's tempting to sit around and whine, but how would that be useful?

It's been almost two weeks since I had the opportunity to listen to one of my favorite speakers, Dieter F. Uchtdorf, address the women in my church. Although he spoke to in a religious gathering, I think some of his comments are useful for everyone, specifically his comments about happiness.

He summarized the story of the golden tickets from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and then he said:

"In their anxiousness, people begin to forget the simple joy they used to find in a candy bar. The candy bar itself becomes an utter disappointment if it does not contain a golden ticket."

I've been thinking about that a lot these last few weeks. As some of you know, this last year or so has been a very stressful, difficult, and disappointing time. It's so easy to focus on what I don't have (especially when I think that I used to have it) and to let myself wallow in misery.

But despite everything, there are good things that have happened, too. Just because I don't have the "golden ticket" that I really want, doesn't mean that I can't still enjoy things. Just because I haven't found my dream agent or sold a book or whatever, does not mean that I can't enjoy writing. I started writing because I love it (just like the people starting buying candy bars because they loved chocolate) and when I start focusing on those things I don't have (agent, book deal, etc.), I lose the joy I used to find in writing.

And I don't want to do that.

I write because I love it. I love the escape and the stories and the words coming together to form something magical on a blank page. I want to focus on that--what I do have--instead of that elusive golden ticket.


****You can read the full text of his talk here or listen to him speak in his fabulous German accent here.