After reading my “friends page,” I see that I am not the only one who is having trouble finding time to post. I have not fallen off the Earth. In fact, my family and I have been dealing with strep throat. First my son, then me, then my husband. I hope that this week brings some time to complete art to put on my new portfolios.com page.

In publishing news. Nice rejections with notes from Scholastic on my non-fiction project, and Tricycle press on my board book project. Still nothing from Walter Lorraine on one picture book. A form rejection on my Chanukah story and Sabbath story from Kar-Ben. Working on revisions for those, and my poem collection. Sending out my watershed picture book to Sylvan Dell come Jan. 1 when they open up again.

Happy Chanukah to all who join me in celebrating this festival of lights. I was in a couple funny skits at our synagogue party yesterday, and go into E.’s class tomorrow to teach them how to play dreidel.

Happy Birthday to

 here is a birthday breakfast for you!

I., my son in second grade, has been having a heck of a time going to school. The holiday feeling is in the air and he is sure that everyone should have the whole month of December off. He is also getting the idea that this is it forever. Everyday is going to be work of some sort or another.

After I barked at him to get his coat on for the 100th time this morning, my husband (who is not usually here for morning send off) swoops in and puts on his understanding voice. “It’s not a choice, kiddo,” he says, “kids go to school and grown-ups go to work.” “Mom doesn’t go to work,” says my son. “Yes, she works here at home.” “All she does is draw pictures. That’s not work.” “That’s Mom’s work, and she works hard taking care of you and your brother, but we’re not talking about Mom, we’re talking about you. Let’s go put on your coat.”

Hmmm…not work, eh? If you like your job, is it not work. If you don’t get paid, is it not work. If you are learning, and researching, and promoting and marketing, and building a body of art that is self assigned, is it not work? If you write on speculation, is it not work?

If you are home all day and your bathroom is still gross, then it’s work.

Hubby leaves at 6:30 am. I get children dressed, fed (bacon and eggs by the way) and onto the bus. No easy task let me tell you. Back to the studio.
1. Worked on a coloring page illustration for wonderful

 
2. Started addressing illustration promotional postcards that are doubling as holiday cards. (If you get one, pass my websites on to 10 other people, please)
3. Picked up kiddo # one from Kindergarten bus.
4. Made lunch for kiddo
5. Did babybook project with kiddo after he begged and begged. Got out materials. Started work. Kiddo got bored and went outside.
6. Took dog to vet to get stitches out.
7. Made target for “bow and arrow” that kiddo made.
8. Made yummy granola, oatmeal, raisin, chocolate chip cookies.
9. Kiddo #2 comes home, goes to play with bow and arrow until bow breaks and I fix it with ingenious thumbtack engineering.
10. Hubby comes home says we’re going out for dinner… GREAT!
11. Hubby starts project outside.
12. I help kiddo # one in his project to re-illustrate Tomie DePaolo’s book Cookie’s Week.
13. Take out cookies.
14. Tell hubby kids can’t wait any longer must go to dinner now. Hubby says he still needs to work.
15. I make supper.
16. Eat cookies and supper. (In that order.)
17. Hubby goes back to work in dark with headlights shining on house. Takes kids with him.
They are still in the dark playing who knows what. I am taking a break and blogging. Because I’m worth it, that’s why.

Mr. Drab droned on about Pluto and dwarf planets. Oliver tried to take notes but his head was somewhere else. The clock ticked. His pencil tapped. Ten minutes until noon. Ten minutes until lunch. Oliver looked out the window. Lunch, planets, lunch, planets, he thought. He looked into space. Ten minutes. Ten, nine, eight, seven… Oliver’s bottom began to vibrate. His ears filled noise….six, five, four… He grabbed the helmet from beside him, shoved it on his head and buckled up. …three, two, one… BLAST OFF!  Next thing he knew, Oliver swooshed into the sky. His cheeks felt tight, his stomach flip, flopped. The sky changed from cobalt, to indigo, to violet until there was nothing. Nothing but potato chip asteroids?

Help Oliver capture lunch and return to school before noon. Hope you like the illo.

I just had a great  school visit! Even though my manuscripts and dummies are still making the rounds I love to do school visits. I taught elementary and middle school for ten years and I love getting back into the classroom as the “guest speaker.” Today I went to I.’s class and spoke about how my poem got published in Babybug. I made a time line which included when they were born and how old they were on one side. And the progress of the manuscript on the other side. They could really understand how time was passing this way. I showed them my sketch books (brought a huge pile, they loved that) and finished art in my portfolios. I showed my rejection file. I showed my revisions.  I showed them a couple of dummy books I have that are out at publishers now, and ended by giving them each  a small dummy book that they could use as sketch books themselves. They got right to work. One kiddo was especially enthralled by the presentation. He wanted to look more closely at my sketch books. The teacher was so excited and mentioned that this is the first time he’s been really turned on to anything. I left with a huge smile and great pile of pictures they drew for me.

I’d love to do more of these!

Okay, the quote above is from….
That’s right Wynken, Blynken and Nod but I’m actually not going to talk about fishing for stars or lullabys. Instead I’m casting for jobs. I was really moved by

 ‘s posting on saying no. Up until now I’ve had a loyalist job seekers point of view. Apply for one and only one and see what they say. Well, no more. I’m casting my net farther and wider and seeing what will be. Perhaps I will have to say no because of salary or other unexpected undisclosed information. BUT It will give me a greater chance of saying yes to an opportunity that fits my knowledge and education and experience and challenges me at this stage of my life.

I will not give up my aspirations to become a published author/illustrator. But right now, my family needs another salary, and E will be in first grade next year. It is time to cast that net.

So the bad news is that I did not finish the dummy I’d hoped to finish…BUT… I finished a different dummy and got it copied, wrote the cover letter and sent it to Tricycle Press. Now I wait. I also finished a grant proposal on the first dummy (the one intended for this month) and sent it. Now I wait. But I also started a new portfolio with portfolios.com that I am slowly filling (20 images seems like a lot right now but I’m plugging away.) Will it get me a job. Who knows? Now I wait. But I don’t wait twiddling my fingers because they are busy writing and drawing. Tuesday I go into my sons class to show how books are made… I think I’ll devote a good five minutes to waiting.

I know a lot of you like to play and revise. I don’t. I’d rather start fresh. New document. But I know some stuff from before was good. Just write.

I haven’t written about this because I didn’t want to get my hopes up and then have to tell everyone it didn’t work out.  My husband and I have been looking at moving to a co-housing community in New Hampshire, but the only way we could do it was on a significant subsidy from the community. We got something, but not enough. I am so sad about it, which I guess means that I did get my hopes up. I expected spam and got spam, but in my heart I really hoped for steak.

The co-housing development is actually a farm & neighborhood. If we had moved, we would have enjoyed a close community that shares meals and a vision of environmental building practices, a pond, and cows, horses and chickens, and other animals (my husband’s dream). It would have meant land enough to possibly start a summer camp (one of my dreams) and a larger community of artists and writers close by.

I guess this solidifies a feeling of being stuck where I am. That perhaps we (my husband and I) are not trying new things (ie: jobs) because we feel too comfortable. Or perhaps there really are a lack of opportunities and salary where we are.

Anyway, it is a good day to write about the rain, and about sadness, and hopes and dreams, and wanting sunshine.