See how easy it is to make me happy, people? Thanks for those words to my Facebook friend and literary angel, Rocky. Her faith in me can keep me going for days. I haven't been blogging the last week because my son's tennis season has pushed everything else to the back, priority-wise. But the banquet is Monday (yes...I'm in charge of the decorations) so things will calm down and I can get back to my new love, writing and my new part-time unpaid job, editing. Plus, summer is almost here. Last summer is when I wrote the majority of "Crazy Quilt". My goal is to finish the first draft of my new book by the end of the summer this year. I'm going to be the little engine that could!
To jump to another subject, I haven't been to England in over 25 years. I love that place. Every time I go there my heart sighs "I'm home." Don't ask me why. I have no explanation but I love it. I love the people. I even love the crappy weather. In my head I'm already making plans to go there next summer. I'll go see my beloved Tower Bridge. Then head to Derbyshire to finally meet my best mate, Mark. Then I'll bind and gag him and make him go with me on the rest of my trip. Next, Durham County in far Northern England to see David, thriller writer extraordinaire, his wife and daughters and Moss, the wonder Border Collie. I'm sure there will be hiking involved, knowing David. In my case, there will be gasping for breath and piece of crap knee involved. And finally, we'll make our way to Dublin, Ireland where I will hug my girl, Lisa until she begs for mercy. I don't drink, but daresay, I'll raise a pint to toast her and with any luck she'll teach me to curse like a proper Irish lass.
Well, that's all I have for today. Feels good to be here blogging. Will do better next time. G'day all.

Time. I can't buy it, borrow it or steal it. And I certainly can't seem to make it.
In that regard, I'm no different than countless women out there that can't seem to find enough hours in the day to get it all done. I know one of my problems is I raise my hand too darn much. Who can help with the bake sale? Up goes my hand. Who can volunteer to do the newsletter? Up goes my hand. Who can be in charge of the banquet? Up goes my hand. Who wishes they had a better handle on time management? Up go both my hands. Yesterday I had an idea for a book. It's not the finished manuscript I'm in the middle of editing. It's not the second book that I have a 50,000 word start on, but have yet to finish the first draft. It's an idea so powerful, it gives me goosebumps just thinking about it, but it's an idea I had to stick in my "I'll get to it file" because I don't have the time. I have these other books to finish first and quite frankly, and this is the hardest pill to swallow, I'm not the writer I need to be to do this other book. The possibilities of this story captivate me and I really think it could be a great, great read. But it's also an idea I want to do justice to and write the best book I can. So I need to finish these other projects I started and hope through them I can learn and develop and make my way toward being the writer I need to be and want to be. That's the other thing about time. You can't rush it either.

On another note, congratulations to my wonderful husband for winning second place in the memoir category in the Atlanta Writer's Club March contest. So proud of that guy.
And a shout out to my friend Mark, all the way across the pond. Thanks for pushing me and making me think.

Today I did the Color Run 5k with my high-school aged son and my college freshman daughter. As I mentioned on Facebook, it was a beautiful, bright, fun, silly hunk of awesome sandwiched between two pieces of godawful, make-you-want-to-slap-yourself traffic. While my son trotted on ahead, because he can run a 5k in his sleep, my uber-fit daughter hung with the old lady (that would be me.)
What's cool about the Color Run, in case you didn't know, is that several times during the walk/run you go through a giant, inflatable colored arch (pink, blue, yellow) and you get smacked full in the face and body with an edible colored powder that stains your hair, skin and clothes. And you find yourself asking for more, please.
Not to sound too saccharine, but I was thinking what a nice metaphor for life that is. You're walking along, putting one foot in front of the other, maybe things aren't all that exciting...heck, maybe even you've stumbled on a bump in the road. But then life just rises up and throws a fistful of pink at you. And you laugh, and you're grateful and yes, you want more.
Yesterday I got smacked with some pink. My editor in the U.K., Abi, sent back my manuscript with her edits and notes. I'll admit, it's not easy putting your work out there for someone to critique but I tell myself over and over, "she wants to make me better." She called me out on all my slip ups in the tense department and gave me some really good suggestions for improvement. But what really made my soul soar was that she "got me." She understood what I was trying to do. She was surprised by the twists in the book and she gave me high marks in plot, dialogue and character development. Obviously, mama's got some work to do, but I got me some pink.
Today, I got gobsmacked with some yellow. I mentioned in an earlier post that a woman who had judged my entry in the Romance of America's Golden Heart Awards contest had sought me out through Facebook. I ended up sending her my first 40 pages for critique. It was clear to me that this woman had taught writing at some point. Her points were so salient and spot on. She told me she used to teach but now she mentors and that she was only a phone call or email away should I need her. What she said was what I knew in my heart and also what I wanted to hear with all my heart. I have some problems with the mechanics of writing. No surprise there since I've never actually learned how to write, construct a plot, give a character form and nuance. But that, she told me, can all be taught. What can't be taught is a voice that's true and literary and that my manuscript just needed some tightening to shine. She thought it had publishing potential. Of course, that's what everyone writing a book would like to happen, so from her mouth to an agent's ear.
Well, here I sit all pink and yellow and asking for more. And I'm not going to wash it off.

On Saturday, I turned an ancient 57 years old. For my birthday I wanted to spend the weekend in a yurt (think Mongolian nomads but with nicer furniture.) Before we left on Friday, I checked my email and Facebook. Here's where I need to digress a bit.
When I decided I wanted to write, I joined the Atlanta Writer's Club because everyone said I really should. But I wondered if there was another group I should join that was more specialized to the genre I wanted to write. So while I don't want to write bodice rippers, where the heroine is swept off her feet and ravished, I do want to write about the human heart, relationships and our search for affection and acceptance. So I figured Georgia Romance Writers would be the closest think to a niche group I could find. However, to join the GRW, you first have to join the National organization, Romance Writers of American. So, check...check.
In late December, an email pops into my box from the RWA telling me I still had until 5 pm that day to enter the Golden Heart Writing Contest. I had entered a couple of contests to get the judges' feedback so that if they all said "total pile of poo," I'd know I had serious reworking to do. When I looked at the clock, I had under three hours to get my submission ready. Being a "what-the-hell" kinda gal, I powered through and sent my entry in.
Fast forward to Friday. I get a friend request from a woman I don't know, but I check out her page and she seems nice enough so once again, going with the "what-the-hell" theme, I friended her. Almost immediately I get this:

Good morning! First off, I'm going out on a limb here and hoping you're the same Sheri Taylor-Emery who submitted Crazy Quilt to the Golden Heart contest hosted by the RWA this year. If it is, I'd LOVE to talk to you about it. I'm terribly sorry it didn't final because I gave it high marks. You are truly gifted and I was greatly moved by the style in which it was presented. Is it too forward to jump up and down and wave enthusiastically? Please tell me you are the person I so hope you are.

Well, of course, I'm thrilled, in awe, humbled, grateful, surprised... all that good stuff, so I message her back and she tells me how sad she was she didn't have more of my book to read (the submission guidelines only called for the first 14 pages) AND she offered to critique the first 40 pages for me.
A total stranger reached out to me and gave me not only much needed encouragement but an offer of help. I was flabbergasted. She also encouraged me to enter the Maggie Awards contest of the GRW (she's a former winner herself!). I'm constantly amazed by the people I've met on this journey. I respond so well to the smallest amounts of positive reinforcement and it seems to come just when I need it most. So today I blog. This weekend, full steam ahead on editing and getting some pages to my new friend. It's crazy how my mind is working at warp speed these days. I don't have it all figured out by any stretch, but I have ideas for at least three more books and I'm having the time of my life. And damn, I'm not even published!