Party Time! 7

Pink Think: “It’s not a party until the fire department shows up.” – Thom Filicia

(I’m smiling at the quote above, because at my house, my kids know dinner is ready when the smoke alarm goes off.)

Well folks, I did it.

On Friday, at 3:35 p.m.,I finished the fourth draft of my coming-of-age novel “Ghost Moon Night,” which is the story of a 17-year old boy who finds himself an unlikely hero in his Philippine town even as he grapples with his own weaknesses.

Four hours of sleep, feverish typing all day until my wrists hurt (something like 15,000 words), my eyes aching, hard-scrabble ugly fight, but I did it!

The reason I did this — other than insanity and an excuse for pecan pie — is I had to get it to the post office by 4:30 p.m. to make the postmark deadline for the Utah Arts Council writing contest. I drove to the post office a little before four o’clock, hoping no one would recognize me (I’m sure I looked a fright). After I handed my baby over the counter to the postal clerk (resisting the urge to tell him to forget it, I changed my mind, what was I thinking, obviously I wasn’t), I walked out dazed, feeling euphoric. A guy was kneeling in front of a p.o. box and I wanted to hug him (don’t worry Drew, I didn’t). I just felt like hugging everyone.

Winners won’t be announced until Sept. 19, and who knows if I even stand a chance, but I had to do this, if only to motivate me to finish my revisions.

My 12-year old daughter Sierra was a gem: she helped me with meals, weeded my flower beds, and kept asking me how I was doing. A fast reader, she also read my manuscript for any glaring typos so I don’t humiliate myself too much. Not for the first time, I thought a trampoline is a great investment for writers with young children (which I’ve posted about in the past here).

My husband was great: he wouldn’t let me back out of this goal even though I wanted to give up at 7 a.m., when I stumbled out of bed bleary-eyed for more punishment.

Let the party begin…

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