This blog chain snuck up on me (and I posted a day late). I love the topic, though. What speaks more to writers than feelings? Kate says:

“Post pictures, songs, movie clips, poems, or novel excerpts that make you feel. Feel what, you ask? Feel anything. Happy. Sad. Angry. Nostalgic. Hopeful. Hopeless. Jealous. Joyful.

I have read in several different places that YA novelist John Green said of his latest novel, The Fault In Our Stars that he wants to make his readers “Feel All The Things.” I would love that someone could go through this blog chain and through what we all choose to post have that same Feel All The Things feeling.”

Before I post, I want to say I completely agree with Green. I would say most–if not all–writers do. I’ve had some issues (uh, like needer a thicker skin issues) with some reviews for PIECES OF US, my YA novel that’s coming out in March. Seems like those who like it, REALLY like it, and those who hate it, uh, they REALLY (and I mean REALLY) hate it. So after I penned yet another e-mail to two of my close friends about this, they both wrote back the same thing. “You want this. You’re making people react. You’re really making them feel.” And isn’t that what I wanted? It says something when people react.

Here are some pics that make me feel happy and maybe you.

How cute is this loris? It looks a little scared and makes me want to hold him.

This is my kid (4) dressed up as Wolverine and me dressed up as Batgirl. I love the pic of him because his imagination is awesome and he LOVES dressing up as superheroes, pirates, you name it. And the pic of me? Well, it makes me happy because it was fun doing it and the way my little guy looked at me (like I was all kinds of awesome and amazing) makes me want to wear this for him all the time.

The Breakfast Club is one of my favorite movies ever and the song from it rocks.

The Breakfast Club on YouTube

I loved the ’80s and nineties too. So here are some ’90s trends too. Ah, nostalgia.

The Nineties on YouTube

That’s all for now…. For more emotional stuff check out Tere’s post before mine and Jon’s post next.

Today’s blog chain was started by Jon. He asks:

“Imagine the home(s) where you grew up, and start drawing a floor plan. As you draw, memories will surface. Grab onto one of those memories and tell us a story.”

When I was in my late twenties, my parents sold the house I spent most of my life in and moved to another one in the same town. Shortly after, my husband and I bought a house in this town as well (my sis and her family live here too and I guess all of us can’t stay away from each other), and it’s a few blocks away from my childhood home. While I haven’t been inside it since my parents sold it, I pass it often on walks and show my son the outside of the house his mommy grew up in. The new owners changed the siding and put a garden in the back, and removed the rose bushes–one of my favorite things about this house–from the front, but I still think of it as mine. And while I’m sure there are changes inside as well, in my memory, it will always look as I remember it. Join me on a tour….

The backyard has a deck overlooking the grass, trees, and flowers. I practiced my cheerleading cartwheels on that grass. At my sweet sixteen, two of my friends shared their first kisses with boys they liked behind the trees on that grass. Beyond the fence surrounding the backyard is the bike path I used to walk on my way home from junior high and high school. On that bike path, I first learned to ride a two-wheeler. Past the bike path is my elementary school and the most amazing grassy hill. For years, we went sledding on that hill. Now, teens go snowboarding, and I took my now four year old on that double hill for his first sledding experience. He was much braver than me, moving his sled to every possible ramp and bump.

Ready to go back inside? The first floor has my older sister’s room. The wallpaper has stars, and the bed, while not the sturdiest one in the world always welcomed me whenever I was scared to sleep on my own. Upstairs, was my parents room, and the powder room. I was not into make-up, but that room was amazing. It had lights around the mirror like a movie star’s and I spent many hours twirling around on the spinny chair and checking out that mirror. No photos, please. 🙂 Attached to the powder room is my bedroom. It was an addition to the house, and I had my first sleepover (6th grade) there. The carpet was baby blue, and I had my own bathroom. And for my 18th birthday, one of my best friends stopped by while I was at work and left roses on my bed. He was the first boy to ever give me roses. Before we go back downstairs, take a look out the window to the trees outside. In the fall, the colors of the leaves look so pretty.

Let’s pass the kitchen on the way out. If my grandma is there, there is a plate of homemade sugar cinnamon cookies by the stove. Grab one or two or three. Come again, and don’t forget to check out the chalk drawings on the sidewalk outside. Today it’s a hopscotch board.

Thanks for joining me today. If you didn’t visit Tere’s house yet, please go there, and then take a tour of the rest of the chain if you missed it.

Today’s blog chain was started by Tere. She asks:

“So here’s my topic: What conditions do you need to get your best writing done? Closed door, crowded coffee house? Computer or notebook? Can you just sit down to write, or do you need to wait for the time to be right?”

When I was in high school, I picked up my journal when angst hit. Friend troubles, parent issues, boy heartbreak–my journal was my go to place for poetry or short stories (I was never the write down bare thoughts kind of girl; all had to be said through poems or a story). I also never just wrote anywhere. In those down moments, I’d go to my room, close the door, turn out all lights except for a reading light, wrap myself in blankets and write. My family knew not to bother me (but they did anyway). Sometimes, I’d be there for hours, and when I was done, while I never felt better immediately, it usually sparked something within that eventually got me out of my funk.

These days, I can’t do that. I have a husband and a four-year-old and neither would be thrilled if I just picked up and went to write in my room because the mood struck me. Too bad. So I have to plan. I write when my son is in school or if I arrange for a day ahead of time with hubby so he knows he’s on duty. And deadlines are great because they motivate me. With the schedule above, I try hard to produce when I have the set time, but my brain wanders and I can’t always focus. When I have a deadline, I always focus, usually because I have consecutive days where I write.

I did start carrying a notebook with me, though, and when a thought strikes (like when I’m waiting for my son to be done with gymnastics or if his pre-k is running late or Hubby is driving us somewhere) I write it down immediately. Writing by hand has also cleared my head when I’ve been stumped.

But what would I really love? The best way I can perform if given the choice? A weekend writing retreat. I LOVE these and it’s been so so long. It doesn’t have to be formal. Usually, it’s just a friend or two getting together at a hotel or shore house to write, write, write. I want another so badly. Maybe I’ll plan for one soon….

How about you? Share your ideal writing situation then check out Shaun’s post from yesterday.

Welcome to another blog chain. Today’s topic comes from Michelle Hickman. She asks:

This is the month in creating writing goals and making big accomplishments. What is your greatest accomplishment — in writing, your life or perhaps something incidental that had a big effect on you?

For once, I didn’t have to think before coming up with answer. Hands down, my son is my biggest accomplishment. He turned four in July, and teaches me things daily. He has a terrific sense of humor, is very silly, focused, smart, athletic (yep, don’t think he got that from either me or my husband), kind, persistent, and a host of other things. Before I had him, my main goal was getting published. Succeeding as a writer is something that is still very important to me, but being there for my little guy, guiding him, letting him teach me, is EVERYTHING. And, because of him, my professional successes gain new meaning. I want him to know he can accomplish anything he desires as long as he works at it. I want him to know he doesn’t have to settle for one thing–he can be so many things. Right now, he wants to be a construction worker, fireman, policeman, landscaper, ambulance worker, and most recently a cowboy. I’m sure tomorrow there will be a new profession added to the list. Why not?

As for me, I tell him I’m a mommy, a writer, a teacher. I started adjuncting at a college this fall, something I always wanted to do. My first YA came out in Nov. 2010. My next YA will be out in March. He’s been to bookstores with me and has gotten excited when he saw my book on a shelf. And I’m excited too. But not just because the book is there, but because my little man thinks it’s awesome, and HE’S proud of ME. And that makes me feel more accomplished than anything.

Share your biggest accomplishment, and then check out Tere’s post from yesterday and Shaun’s post tomorrow.

Today’s blog chain was started by Matt. He asks:

“Who is your favorite monster?”

I always liked watching scary movies, but can’t say I loved those monsters. But the monster who always creeped me out was The Rack from Buffy. That’s the dude who got Willow hooked on drugs. What freaked me out about him was that he was real as opposed to monster. Yes, he existed in some different realm, in an area that moved constantly and only those who needed the “magic” could find him, but he looked human. And, he was symbolic of a drug dealer. I always found “monsters” who could exist in our world far scarier than those like Freddy or Jason.

Want more creepy? Check out Tere’s fave monster here and tune into Shaun’s spooky pick tomorrow.