Option 4...

I must hereby declare that my mother did NOT throw away any book I ever wrote. I made that up.


So here's the next draft. How's it working?


Heh!


You have not read Laurel Snyder’s first book, The Very Naughty Unicorn, because it was hand-written, bound in scraps of pink wallpaper, and ripped to shreds by a badly-behaved boy named Henry when Laurel was only eight. You may, however, have read her more recent story, Inside the Slidy Diner.

A graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, Laurel lives in Atlanta, Georgia, in a little brick house with a pale green door. Visit her online at LaurelSnyder.com.

Option 3...

A hybrid, sent to me by Steve Gettinger, my "stepfather" (although that word doesn't begin to describe it). Thanks, Steve!


You have not read Laurel Snyder’s first book, The Very Bad Unicorn, because it was hand-written, bound in scraps of pink wallpaper, and accidentally trashed by her mother when Laurel was eight. She has been working on this book ever since. Please, whatever you do, keep it away from your mother when she is cleaning up!


A graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, Laurel lives in Atlanta, Georgia, in a little brick house with a pale green door. Visit her online at LaurelSnyder.com.


And while we're at it, do people prefer b&w, or color author photos?

How silly is too silly???

I need a bio for the book. How ridiculous can I be? Please vote!

Option 1.


You have not read Laurel Snyder’s first book for middle grade readers, The Very Bad Unicorn, because it was hand-written, bound in old pieces of pink wallpaper, and accidentally thrown out by her mother (in a fit of cleaning) when Laurel was only eight. She has been working on this book ever since. Please, whatever you do, keep it away from your mother when she is straightening up! (For more, visit LaurelSnyder.com)


Option 2.


Laurel Snyder has written many books about many things, but this one is her favorite. A graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and an occasional commentator for NPR’s All Things Considered, she lives in Atlanta, Georgia, in a little brick house with a pale green door. Visit her online at LaurelSnyder.com.


Or something more formal? Do I need to mention schooling? Past books? My kid?

No fun...

My sinus infection is now a SINUS INFECTION!!!!!


Meanwhile, not much is happening. I'm trying to stay as vertical as possible. I'm trying not to bark at everyone I talk to. My upper jaw and head are killing me. I can't breathe. The other night I had a dream that I had a terrible case of cottonmouth and couldn't find a drink. Woke up to realize I'd been open-mouth snoring with my nose sealed shut. Blech. Today the left side feels a little better but I wouldn't bet the bank on an upward swing. I learned my lesson this fall with the bronchitis.


See, a foetus only wants to keep you from taking good drugs while it steals all your health and energy and resources. Then it turns into a baby, which does pretty much the same thing, but is way cuter.


In other news, I'm working on a new picture book. It's called, "When I'm sick."

I don't care what my husband says...

The first track on this CD kicks total ass. Mose and I have been dancing around the kitchen all morning.


I love you, Jon Langford. Even if you're sometimes "pedantic".


"I came back and built this wall... so you could tear the whole thing down."

My Johnny Cash essay...

Is up today at the California Literary Review.


A story from the bad old days. Or the good old days. Who can tell?

I think it's done...

I think I just sent off the last draft (minus copyediting) of the children's book today. I think I'm finished with the heavy lifting. I'm all shaky.


Of course, that could also be the fever. I have a sinus infection.


In other news, I'm working on poems.


In still other news, the baby is kicking.


Sinus infection aside, I'm a damn lucky lady.

Mose!!!

At Grammy's, for Xmas.


(Since I'm too busy to post to MoseCentral lately, I'll be posting Mose pics here from time to time. These are some shots that Mose's Grammy took during the holidays. Forgive me for my bad hair!)

Susan!!!

My best friend in the universe came to town on Friday, to celebrate my birthday with me.


And celebrate we did.


We saw Stomp the yard at the Starlight Drive In, took Mose to the zoo, to see a baby panda, ate huge quantities of food, went in search of Ludacris (to no avail), and spent hours and hours just hanging out around the house with Mose and Chris.


Much fun was had.

Tomorrow is my birthday...

And I will be divisible by 11. How often does that happen?


In other news, yesterday was awesome! I had a BABYSITTER!!! So I went to the doctor for a checkup and had lunch with a friend, and got 3.5 hours of work done on the book before coming home to a relatively neat house. I felt so calm, so happy, so eager to play with Mose.


That's all a girl really needs, right? A periodic landing pad, a sane day in the midst of the rocky waters.... A chance to eat a sandwich without interruption. A chance to work quietly before returning to the din.


Happy birthday to me!!!!

Bradley on Cal...

Today, over at Karri's, I read this letter.


From my old pal Bradley. We went to high school together, and grew up with the old Baltimore Orioles (and the Colts too) in another era. Before new stadiums and steroids.


Now, I care little about sports, but even *I* get upset when you fuck with Cal.


To: pladd@aol.com
Subject: You are a moron

If you can't "say what [Cal Ripken] put into [his body] over the years with any degree of certainty," then you're too fucking stupid to be a sportswriter -- and being a sportswriter doesn't exactly require MENSA membership in the first place. What makes "Ripken so special that [he] deserve[s] to be a unanimous selection"? How about the fact that he restored the nation's faith in the game after the disastrous '94 strike, when everyone hated the national past time? How about during the "age of steroids" that you lament, and the age of tantrum-throwing free-agent superstars, he symbolized for millions of kids and adults how the game should be played, and what the value of loyalty and hard work were? If anything, if you find the 1993-2004 period so thoroughly corrupt, then Ripken ought to be even more deserving of your vote, since he stood out among all the muck.

Fuck you, you fucking stupid piece of shit. You and your "guilty-until-proven-innocent" bullshit "logic" don't deserve a vote. I'd wish testicular cancer upon you, but it's clear you have no balls. I'd wish a brain tumor upon you, but it's clear you have no brain. I'd tell you to go to Hell, but you already live in Chicago. I recognize that your true motive here is to simply get some attention for being a "contrarian" or a "renegade," but the only attention you'll get is for being a fucking retard with a press badge...so at least you have plenty of friends. But I'm sure that for you any attention is good attention. You're probably getting off on this e-mail big time as it is. So good for you. Savor it. You'll be soon forgotten, while Cal will be remembered for as long as baseball is played.

Too bad your mother stopped halfway through the abortion.

Free at last!!!

HOME!


Home from my last airline ride with Mose. I'm totally totally zonked, but the last Half/Life events went wonderfully, and I got to spend a week in Baltimore and another with my dad in Bethlehem... so it was worth it.


I won't say I plan to actually *rest* for long, as I have to finish the edits for both the poetry book and the kiddie-novel. Also I'm growing a baby, raising a toddler, and doing the blog for Jewcy. So don't expect the house to be any cleaner than usual. But I'll be here, in my comfy house, with my routine, wearing my crappy jeans and holey sweaters. Ahhhhhhhhhhh!


New Year's Resolutions:


1. To go on a date with my husband at least once a month


2. To not worry about the fact that other people have nicer crap (cars, houses, etc) than me


3. To write (and take on writing gigs) more slowly and carefully


4. To restructure our money so that we give a regular percentage of our earnings to charity (there will never be *enough*, so we must as will start now)


5. To be rested when the new baby comes


What about you? What are your resolutions?