mary e. pearson

I have been laying low in the blog world lately, but trying to drop in when I can to hear what is going on with friends--and strangers. If any of you have had any news, feel free to shout it out here again in the comments. I know I have missed a lot. 

It's a cold windy day here in California which is kind of nice. We had Santa Ana winds just a few days ago and this feels more like Christmas. Nearly all the leaves have been blown from our liquid ambers and our backyard has a golden carpet of leaves.  I love that, though it does make finding doggy treasures a bit of a challenge.  All the prickly balls (those tiny round spots on the trees you can barely see) have been shaking seeds loose like crazy and the mourning doves are grazing in the yard, while keeping a watchful eye out for Hunter.  He rarely chases after them anymore though, since he's never caught one.  Thank goodness
 

 

While I was picking up the above mentioned treasures I saw that my camellia bush had bloomed.  My first!  It was a nice surprise. 
 

I just got this bush this last summer.  I have never had luck with camellias before but thought I would give it one more try.  I guess, as with writing, persistence is key in the camellia world as well.  Anyway, the bloom left me smiling and feeling better, because, well,  I am not feeling so great.  Yeah, I know a lot of viruses are going around but I think it might be from a shock of my own making. . . 

About a week ago I bought a new bathroom scale.  I was at Costco and they had these shiny, blinking, do-everything scales and I knew our bathroom scale was a "little" off and getting rusty around the edges so I got one.  Holycanoli.  When I got it home it had the nerve to say I was a full FIFTEEN pounds heavier than my old scale.  All these years my doctor's scale has been right?  Ignorance really is bliss sometimes.  I am tempted to go dig my old scale out of the recycling bin.

But just in case it is not Scale Sickness that is making me cough and my throat raspy, (and I was finally unable to dodge the virus bullets that have been flying around me) I am drinking OJ and sucking on coldeze.  Luckily, yesterday I finished my Christmas shopping (thank you very much.)  While I was out shopping and beginning to drag I passed a woman who was skipping and swaying and waving her arms to a tune that only she could hear.  Though I am sure some of the shoppers gave her wide birth, her joyful body language made me smile and made my feet a little less tired.  You never know what momentary joy you might bring to a total stranger.  

So that is what I wish for all of you--small moments of unexpected joy.  The little stuff.  Which really is, in the great scheme of things, the big stuff.  Here is a smile for you all--a toilet paper roll angel made with small hopeful hands. 



So give me a smile back.  Some good news, or something that made you smile or laugh.  If a skipping lady can make my feel less tired, maybe a few more smiles will counteract my Scale (cough) Sickness.
 

1. Spring!



2. Spring again!



3.  And more spring!



4.  And the boys are enjoying spring too.  Brody, our indoor, wannabe lap dog poses . . .



6.  And Hunter, our "real" dog, is on high alert for all those pesky birds who are gobbling up bird seed and having the nerve to invade his territory . . .



I worked out on the patio today with the laptop, and his antics--chasing the birds all over the yard--finally made me put the laptop down and snap a few shots.  That is the birdfeeder right above his head that he's guarding.  Boy if a dog could sprout wings . . .

Happy spring everyone!

edited to add: 
5.  Clearly spring has me so delirious, that I can't count.  Not that I ever could.

Things have been busier than ever.  But I have managed to squeeze in a couple of slow activities in the past week.  One was working out in the yard planting some flowers.  When this started to bloom last week . . . .



I knew I needed to get out there and get some planting done.  This is my homely little succulent I have posted pictures of before that has amazing little flowers that spring forth once a year.  Meanwhile, my neighbor (the same one who made me paella last week) is bringing me things like THIS from her garden . . .


Yes, she grows beautiful orchids while I nurture plants that look like rock creatures.  But then again, she doesn't have two furry eighty pound peeing machines in her backyard either.  See guilty parties here.  You will also get a glimpse of my polka dot lawn.

I did get some beautiful ranunculas planted in the front yard though.  Carlsbad is somewhat known for its gorgeous ranuncula flower fields, so if you don't know what they look like you can check them out here, and if you are passing through in the spring, definitely take some time to stroll through the fields.  There is also a spectacular ocean view from the hills so you get two inspiring views for the price of one.

In writing news . . .
I have been having a lot of fun over at the Readergirlz blog.  They have been posting various questions this week like, which  superman strength  do you wish you had?  Heck, I want them all!  Especially after reading some of the responses.

In more book news, I talked to my editor yesterday and she said the ARCS for The Miles Between had arrived!  And they looked great!   She was going to pop a few in the mail to me.  I can't wait to see them.

Also, I found out I am going to LA for the Nebula Awards  banquet!  Yay!  And yikes!  Now comes the requiste pondering of what do I wear?  I have never been to this before so I haven't a clue.  This is all taking place in LA on the same weekend as the LA Times Festival of Books, so I think I will be stopping in for a bit there too.  Will any of you be there--either for the Nebula conference or the LA Times festival?

How pathetic is that?

This lady on my wall used to have flowing cascades of donkey tears hair. I am not sure when she started balding, but just the other day I saw that pitiful single strand and added another project to my mental list. Give crying lady on wall some hair!

But I have a hundred other projects too.  Dumb little things like piles of paper to be sorted through and filed, and more major things like painting the deck which is looking pretty dreadful right now.  What I really want to do is get outside and plant spring flowers.  I've been so busy I hadn't even noticed until yesterday that my Lily-of-the-Valley are in full bloom.

But all of these projects have to take a backseat to my writing projects.  I'm juggling three different books now that all need my attention--one published, one about to be, and one that is just taking form (and is really pulling at me--yay!)

So the poor hairless lady may have to wait awhile, though I LOVE to work in the yard.  Especially in spring.  And I do have those poppy seeds that need planting soon . . .

Are you ever overwhelmed with your "to-do" list?

I kind of took this week off.  I've been traveling and doing so many visits and talks, I really needed to shovel out, catch up on a lot of things around the house.  And one of my favorite things to catch up on is working outside.  The only bad thing about working outside at this time of year is spider webs.  We have these ENORMOUS spiders round about October--seriously, they could feed a family of four if you were so inclined--and they have these weird webs that can cross from one side of the yard to the other.  How they do that, I don't know.  They don't have wings, but maybe they are great jumpers.  Ick.  I hadn't thought of that.

Anyway for me, there is no worse feeling than walking through a web and having it all tangled on your body and you don't know if the previously mentioned ENORMOUS spider is on you and about ready to eat your ear.  So when I walk through the yard I walk with my arms out--sort of Frankenstein style--because I'd rather get that webby stuff all over my hands than on my face.  My neighbors probably think I am practicing for some Halloween stint or I am the crazy stiff arm lady.  But sometimes you just don't care what people think, right?

Here's a picture of one of the smaller ones:

I know it is hard to get perspective, but his body is the size of a man's hand.  Okay, maybe that's a little exaggeration.  A man's thumb.  Whatever.  It's big.

All this to say, I did get some yard work done, some weeds pulled and flowers planted, all under the watchful eye (eyes?) of several perched spiders without any major web encounters.  Besides the yard being somewhat cleaned up, the major benefit of this is thinking time.  Nothing like mindless work to give the mind a chance to wander.  I've been trying to let a story that's been niggling emerge--but I have been way too busy with stuff--so the digging, pulling, and planting gave the story a little door to talk to me.  A few more glimpses emerged and now I will just have to let those simmer a while longer, because copyedits for my next book are supposed to arrive today.  Back to the last story.

I have to be careful not to get my characters mixed up.  I did that once in this last book.  Ethan, from Jenna Fox, suddenly appeared where Seth should have been.  My first readers waved the red flag on that one.  Of course, the character was still Seth, but he got to borrow Ethan's name for a few pages.  Someday I may put all of my characters into one story.  Wouldn't that be fun?  What would Zoe say to Jenna?  I bet Lily and Opal would be fast friends . . .

I think my mind is stuck in ramble mode.  Kind of nice for a change.  But soon the doorbell will ring, and I will get to see what the copyeditor caught.  Keep your fingers crossed that it is nothing major . . .

. . . come in all sorts of packages.

Some of you may remember the "find" I shared this past spring.

From the humblest beginnings, sometimes wonderful things are born. Imagine my surprise when I went out today and found this little gift. (yes, that is the fungus toe plant barely seen behind it.)




Who would have guessed?

Never underestimate a homely plant. You might be rewarded.

Now you knew I couldn't go away without taking a picture of a few flowers.

These beauties were in Millenium Park in Chicago (though all the streets there seem to have gorgeous flowers. Cyclamen in parkways! Unheard of in CA.)

Anyway, these little "blue bells" really caught my eye. I have never seem them before and if I can remotely get them to grow in San Diego I would like to give it a try. Does anyone know what they are?

1. Good news! My publisher passed along the news that The Adoration of Jenna Fox has been named a Book Sense "Top Ten" Book on their Summer 2008 Children's Picks List!

2. After much hesitation I watered the "Martha Stewart Bird Home" very carefully. The bird flew out, almost straight into me, but then--whew--went right back. I guess we have learned to live in harmony.

3. A while back I finally parted with the crib that both of my daughters used as babies. It was hard. But as we were throwing it away (since it is probably not safe by today's standards) I saved one panel. I had an idea for it. Before I put it to use I had my daughters pose with their former digs.


And then I planted the two flower vines next to it.



It will make a great trellis that will make me smile in ways an ordinary trellis couldn't.

More writing thoughts.

Things are not always what they seem:



Sometimes a flower pot is not just a flower pot and if you hang around long enough you will discover its true purpose. When I was working on my last manuscript there was a scene where I wanted to bring out the vulnerability and hidden tender side of my tough cookie MC. And so upon visiting her home where she hadn’t been in several years, she would discover that her doll collection was gone from the shelf where she had displayed them–and have a bit of a meltdown. I assumed the dolls were discarded and I would never see them again–just as my MC thought. But we were both wrong. Later I discovered a deeper purpose to the dolls--that this impromptu detail would be pivotal in revealing a secret later on. I love those surprising moments in writing. If you hang in there long enough, they are bound to come.
On Sunday when I was toting that barge and lifting that bale in the yard, I noticed some small birds and their preoccupation with a hanging pot on my patio. I thought they were just taking moss for a nest somewhere, but this went on all day long so I finally got curious and peeked . . .



oh boy.
Not what I expected to see at all.
It is more than a flower pot now.
It is their home sweet home . . .



with triplets on the way! A nice surprise. Needless to say, I didn’t trim off the old flowers or add water to the pot, although before I knew they were there, I was probably drenching the poor darlings on an almost daily basis and it didn’t seem to deter them from moving in. On the other hand, I don’t want all the leaves to shrivel up and die and stop providing protection.

To water or not to water, that is the question. My writing metaphor doesn’t seem to be helping me anymore. Maybe if I hang in there long enough I will figure it out . . . or I will get some great advice from friends?

I spent almost the whole day outside yesterday working in the garden. Lots of chores to catch up on. I'm feeling a little stiff today. Toting those bags of dirt and heavy pots has a way of catching up with you. Usually when I work in the yard, my thoughts go to the manuscript I'm working on, and a lot seems to get worked out in the physical labor of weeding, digging, and trimming. But right now I don't have a work in progress--I have one book about to be released and another finished draft that I am giving some sitting time so I have distance before beginning a revision.

So instead, as I worked, my thoughts drifted to writing and thinking about the whole process. You'd think by now I would understand it fully and completely, but just as my yard is an ongoing process, established plants rooting out others, new varieties thriving where other plants have continually failed, and annuals that are not meant to live past a season needing to be replanted, my process changes with each book too. Maybe that's what is so enticing about the whole affair in the first place. I never really own it, I just get to go along for the ride. Yeah, complaining a bit at times (like I moan about my back right now) but I'm also completely captivated by the trip once it's done. I guess that's why I go back for more.

I've been asked a lot lately about inspiration (and of course I am hoping some will hit me soon so I can dig in on another. Should I worry?) but one thing I was thinking about yesterday as I was digging and planting is the quote from C.S. Lewis, "We read to know that we are not alone," and I thought about my process in hindsight, and I can't help but wonder if we write to know we are not alone too. We are seeking connection on some level, that our questions are someone else's questions too? And that is usually all I have. Questions, not answers.

More to do in the yard today. But easier stuff. My back needs some distance too. And maybe inspiration will hit me when I'm not looking. It usually does.

. . . from the nursery yesterday:


Okay, I know what you're thinking. Has she finally lost it? That looks like a big gray toe--with fungus. And it sort of does. It's the kind of plant only a mother plant could love. Homely but cute too. Especially cute when you see what it does . . .



The toe opens up! It is actually called a split rock and according to the label it gets pink satiny flowers. Looking much cuter now isn't it?

I've been making a lot of succulent plant pots lately. For one thing, you can get such an interesting variety of succulents, and for another thing, they don't require much water. In other words, you can practically abuse them and they still look happy. And the flower spikes they get are always a nice surprise.

So now to go plant my toes . . .

It's finally here. And I think this year in California we're going to have a spectacular one. We've had an ideal amount of rain for a change so everything is green and blooming. I drove up past Camp Pendleton last week where all the fires had been in the fall, and what a transformation. This time the hills were on fire with golden poppies, wild mustard, and purple lavender. I think the ash from the fires must have acted as fertilizer because I have never seen those hills so beautiful.

I don't have a lot of flowers in my back yard because of certain four footed hairballs who refuse to acknowledge boundaries. So my front yard . . .


. . . is where I get to watch spring unfold. I noticed I don't have a lot of poppies this year. Must get to Home Depot for some seed . . .

Happy Spring! (and of course my favorite season, summer, comes next)

. . . before I settle down to work.

Today was the first time I have gone out in my yard in weeks. This is unusual for me because I like working in the yard, but I have just been too busy. It seems that spring has sprung. So I went out and fertilized the whole yard--pansies, geraniums, bird of paradise, hydrangea--you name it. The pansies of course are in their full glory already, but a lot of the other flowers need a little blooming nudge.



As I was walking around throwing out the fertilizer, I was dive-bombed. It sounded like a whole squadron around my head instead of just this one tiny bird. Talk about attitude. Seems she had built a nest and preferred me to stay out of her yard. I am sure it won't be long before I see little beaks poking above the rim ala newport2newport but don't expect amazing photos from me like hers.


I love the enormous attitude of these birds. If they had hands they'd be waving them at you or pulling you by the ear.

So most of the day I took care of a few spring chores and also those deadly boring routine ones like grocery shopping. If we could just give up eating . . .

Thanks for all the nice comments yesterday about the book trailer. If I put all your comments together it would be something like Excellent Freaky Shivers. : ) Yeah, me too.

So now I am settling down to do a little writing. It seems like lately my best writing time is in the early evening. Twilight has always been my favorite time of day. What's yours? Twilight always seems quieter, calmer, like you are between acts of a play and can take a little intermission and just take in the whole stage. I'm looking out my window right now doing that. A few long arms of sunset are hitting the houses across the street and not a leaf on a tree is twitching. I love it.

I wish "intermission" could last like, all night long, so I could get this book done. I am close, but impatient.

Clean Up

I spent the morning raking the leaves, branches and debris in my yard. As I was raking I noticed that the green prickly balls that had been on my liquid ambers had opened up and were pouring out their seeds. This is unusual because they usually have to turn brown and dry for this to happen, but I guess the hot winds of this past week, "cooked" them so that they opened up. The birds will get an early feast.

The air is much better too--otherwise I wouldn't have been able to work outside. As I was raking I started thinking about the mandatory evacuations, and then about the word "mandatory" and then thinking of the related word "demand" and thinking about the logic of the words and if mandatory means you must do something, then to "de"mand it, it should be that you don't insist on anything, so if you are really angry and want something done, really, you should say, "I mand that you stop that now!"

This led me to think of a book I adore that is coming out next spring, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau Banks by E. Lockhart, and the main character, Frankie, who is a kick at disecting the logic of words and I was trying to remember if she had ever manded anything.

Which led me to thinking how illogical our language is, and recalling Esperanto which at one time was supposed to be the up and coming world language, but I never hear anything about it anymore, and I wonder if maybe it was just as illogical as every other language. The only one that I could ever follow with consistency was pig latin.
It ade-may ense-say.

And then when I loaded the last trash can (8!) and banged the dustpan on the side, I tried to think how in the heck I started thinking about pig latin.

So I retraced my steps all the way back to wind, leaves, and "mandatory" evacuations. azy-cray.

Thank you all again for your good thoughts and prayers. I'm keeping you in mine too.

Yesterday I posted about spring victories, and in the interest of full disclosure, I would like to come clean about some losing battles. Sometimes in life you just have to resign yourself to the fact that you win some and you lose some.

So with that said, please meet my polka dot lawn:



And to be even more honest, right now it is looking good. You see, it is a victim of Pee Wars. It wasn’t always this way. Once it was a green carpet that you would happily lay down on–but that was when we only had one dog. Then we got two. Their greatest joy in life is over peeing each other. So one small spot in a vast yard to choose from becomes the chosen spot–over and over and over again. I know that the male species–from human to canine–has weird peeing habits, but why didn’t anyone ever tell me about Pee Wars?

Here are the culprits:



Yeah, they try to act innocent, but don’t be deceived. As soon as I snapped this shot they were off wizzing again.

But you have to choose your battles, right? And a polka dot lawn is well worth the sloppy kisses. I think.

Other losing battles:

1. That last five pounds
2. Sleeping through the night
3. Writing a book without agonizing over it (Office Depot “easy” button perhaps?)
4. Drifts of dog hair (hm, back to dogs again . . .)

What are yours?

Several years ago I spoke at the California School Library Association's annual conference, and I received one of those cool bags they give attendees and it included something unusual: Seeds. California poppy seeds to be exact. It seems that the flowers that had been abundant and wild were waning due to development and this was a way to keep this natural California flower flourishing. I planted them in my garden, not really expecting them to bloom--but they did! I have had them every year since then, since they reseed on their own. But early last spring, a well meaning gardener I had hired to help me get rid of the also flourishing oxalis, mistook the poppy seedlings for weeds and pulled every last one. No poppies for me! Which also meant no natural reseeding. So this year I threw out seeds by handfuls, and the first poppies are back. It made me smile and I dragged my husband out to see the first blooms. Small victory, lots of joy.



Another victory was the jasmine vine that hangs over our front door. We had to have our house tented for termites two years ago, and we didn't think the vine would make it--but it did. Last year it came back, quite skimpy and no flowers. But this year it is making up for lost time!



And oh my god, the smell! Going in and out my front door is intoxicating ; ) Sometimes it is the small joys . . .

What are your recent "victories"? (Whether large or small!)

My sister takes all kinds of terrific photos. I never know what new gem she will share with me. But this windblown puff ball seemed like a good one to share with you today. It may not be as full as it once was, but there is still a lot of beauty in it.

Tax day is past. This may not seem like a big deal to a lot of people but it is for me since I am married to a CPA. Enuf said. I have my hubby back.

I've been following a discussion over at YA Authors Cafe about sex in YA lit. Very interesting. It's good to hear various viewpoints.

I see that my publisher has a MySpace page called the InGroup. According to the site, "The In Group is a select group of teens ages 13 to 19 who give us feedback on our new Young Adult books. As a member of The In Group, you get to read books months before they’re available in stores or libraries." So if you know a teen--or teen group--who might like to get and read free books before they are published, let them know about it.

More wind tomorrow and then rain, so they tell me. More windblown puffballs for sure. Counting on you, Susan.

I am not a big spider person. I like nearly all wildlife, but spiders and snakes are two I am happy to pass on. Still, this time of year it seems right to see a few gobby webs around along with the other Halloween decorations. And, er, a few gobby spiders. Like this one. It is hard to get perspective from this picture but this guy who decided to build a huge web right outside my dining room window, is large enough to eat a family of four.



I felt pretty brave to even get this close to take a picture, but then I thought, I wonder if he can jump? I pictured myself wrapped up tight as a mummy in his web. Luckily he didn't jump. His web is pretty messy now because he's been there a while, but if he builds a new one, I will try to take a new picture of it when the dew is hanging on it. Even for a non-spider admirer like me, I have to say their webs are something to wonder at.

So this is a Halloween decoration and chill from me to you.

Boo!

When I was away on vacation, so was my sister. She was driving through the Pacific Northwest and took this picture . . .



I defy you to look at this picture and not smile somewhere inside.

I think I'll keep this one handy.

These pictures remind me of writing. Writers have to get up close and personal, showing detail that is sometimes lovely and surprising. . .



But also showing details that are sometimes scratchy and uncomfortable . . .



My sister, Susan, recently took up photography as a hobby and she is always surprising me with her amazing or beautiful photos. But I confess, the spider gives me the creeps.

I think I'd rather write about uncomfortable, scratchy details, than get up close enough to touch their buggy little eyes.

She gets an award for bravery (and amazing photos)