Yes I'm on Your Flight With a Two-Year-Old ... Run Away!

Okay. Don't think I don't see the eye-rolls, hear the grumbles, and can't smell the sheer terror on you when I walk into the boarding area. It's like your pheromones are secreting fight/flight through your pores.
Yes. I'm on your flight.
A bloody long one.
With a two-year-old.
And trust me, I'm not having a pleasant day myself.
I write this because Monday, I'm about to embark on another journey to the states with Amelia -- just the two of us. It's about a twenty-four hour trip, door-to-door. Yep. 24 HOURS. And Jack Bauer thinks he has long days? He hasn't seen the first of it. Try MY day with a 15-month-old that has an intestinal virus and blow outs we haven't seen since they did nuclear testing in Nevada (last year's return trip to Colombia). Beat that, Bauer.
Freaking pansy.
Anyway, this is the thing: Traveling is hard. Traveling alone with a baby/toddler is a full-blown logistical nightmare that not even Robert Michael Gates could wrap his mind around. We've got twenty-four hours of possibilities -- limitless ones -- to plan for. And all of these possibilities have to be packed in one backpack.
Why one? Because if you pack more, you have to carry two backpacks, a kid, and manage the stroller, too.
Yep. One pack. One day. Endless possibilities. What could possibly go wrong? (If you need to ask you didn't pay attention to the swampy diaper issue from last year.)

So what's the point of the blog? An apology? Nope. Here are a few things to keep in mind before you roll your eyes at the haggard looking mother and child that will be boarding your plane:

1. I'm in hyper-mom mode -- all senses are go. So if anybody even looks cross-eyed at my kid or heaven forbid offers her a candy, I will overreact and super-sanitize her, keeping the candy to take the CSI lab when I arrive home. (This is why I have that crazy, blood-shot eye look about me)
   
2. I am dehydrated. I haven't had a drip of water because that would mean I have to pee at some point. Relieving myself would mean either a) leaving my daughter on the plane alone which would cause either 1) a meltdown the size of Chernobyl or 2) dread because I have seen Flightplan or b) bring child with me into plane bathroom. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Two people in one plane bathroom is only good for one thing. And that's not peeing.
3. I won't even talk about food.
   
4. This is a twenty-four hour trip. Luck might have it you get to sit next to us on hour twenty-one. No toy, sticker, game, cajoling, candy, crayons, bribery or anything will calm my child down because she's tired. She didn't sleep on the red-eye because the drinks cart practically knocked her off the chair. I haven't slept either. So if the only thing that keeps her happy is singing the Wheels on the Bus, you get three hours of Barneytime. Consider the alternative.
5. Guess what? Kids cry. Sometimes they're just tired. Sometimes hungry. Sometimes bored. Sometimes all of the above; sometimes none of the above. Bottom line, kids cry. Moms want to cry, but we're the grown ups so we have to wait and cry when we get a chance to go pee at the end of the trip.
   
6. If we are coughing, we are probably sick. Yes, I'd like the luxury of canceling trips at the last minute but simply can't afford it. It's a thousand dollar ticket home. Changing only makes things costlier. So there are few things that will keep me off the plane. I will do all I can to contain the germs in the meantime, but you seething at me doesn't not help the situation and only makes me want to not cover my mouth when I hack.
7. And finally, no matter HOW LONG your flight seems because you're stuck next to a two-year-old who's just plain-old had it, my day has been MUCH longer. Trust me on this one. Bearing the weight of three-hundred plus angry passengers is not pleasant.
   

You've been warned. I've given all travelers ample opportunities to avoid the airways on Monday, May 3 and Tuesday, May 4th. If, however, you proceed with your travel plans and are stuck singing If You're Happy And You Know It with us, thanks for singing along. Maybe we can even do it in rounds! (And feel free to spritz me with water ... I'll need it.)

Happy Travels To You ...

TIPS & GREAT TOYS FOR TRAVELING WITH TODDLERS

• Dental floss (you can't imagine how FUN this stuff can be! Mint, of course.)
• Sticker books/albums
• Crayons/paper
• A surprise baggie of "new toys"
• Snacks (dehydrated fruit, raisins, cereal, water, water, water)
• Laminated photos of people they love. Wallet-size. With NEW wallet to boot.
• Favorite Books (not NEW ones, necessarily because you're gambling they won't be into it)
• Ripping airplane magazines and doing impromptu ticker-tape parades for little people.
• Songs, songs, songs ...
• Mini play-doh packs
• Imagination ... PLENTY OF IT. NOW is NOT the time to shut that part of the brain down.
  

Colombia from the Hip! Overloaded ...

It's been a while. A LONG while ...

So here are a couple of photos of Colombia; overloaded trucks and people, trying to make a living.

The "R" Word: Revisions

One of the most common questions I get from people is how the revisions process works. I can only talk about my experiences, as I imagine the revision process is different for every writer/editor relationship. But I'd like to share a little bit about revisions simply because I think it's the most important part of my job. (Other writers probably write much more polished first drafts. That's not me. So for those of you out there with vaguely disastrous first drafts, there's hope!)

When I sent off my first draft of Freeze Frame, I did so with a sense of pride and accomplishment. I even imagined the editorial team glowing with excitement and buzzing about this newbie author and her amazing first drafts.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Okay. My stomach hurts.
Let's get real here. My first draft of Freeze Frame was shockingly terrible. And you know that little story-arc triangle you learn in fifth grade about building to a climax, the climax, and denouement? Guess what? It's true.

So back to my revisions. At the time I was expecting the letter, I was traveling in Argentina. Several weeks had gone by without news from my editor, Jill Santopolo. And when I heard from her, it was a little note saying we had some kinks to work out. Ahhh ... Jill is an extremely gracious human being and for her to say "kinks to work out" pretty much meant my first draft was abysmal. So right away I wrote my intrepid agent, Stephen Barbara, who talked me off the icy edge of a glacier, saying, "Hold on. It'll be okay."

This is a good thing. To have an agent that talks you off plunging into Antarctic waters -- especially considering the only swim stroke I've mastered to date is the dog paddle.

Then I got the letter. Seven pages single spaced of "kinks". I remember reading the notes thinking, "Wow. This would be a great book." Then my husband kind of reminded me that this was my book. So then I thought, "Oh shit. How am I going to pull this off?" Then Intrepid Agent Barbara said, "Take those notes. Take a breath. Think about them. And write in your own words how you want to iron out the kinks."

And then the real work began. With Freeze Frame, I worked six to eight hours/day for a month on the first round of revisions. This was pre-motherhood, so I could dedicate all those hours to that little baby of mine. Then we went through six or seven (okay, I lost count) revisions similar to this -- each letter getting considerably shorter -- each revision taking a lot less time, too. With Compromised I only had to do three or four revisions. (These, of course, aren't counting the copy editing stage. I'll write about that another day.) And now I've begun revisions for The Doubting with my new editor-at-large Ruta Rimas, and the real work, once again, has begun.

I'm sure a lot of you are wondering why an editor would take so much time on authors and books that need so much work. This is a question I do not dare ask and probably never will. I'm just lucky that I have had and continue to have editors who believe that within the rubble of my words, they can find a decent building. So here's a little bullet-point list of what revisions are from an author's point of view after working with some of the brightest people in the business.

• Editors want your book to be the best it can be. This is not a means for them to throw you down and kick dirt on you. In fact, every book that hits the shelves is also a reflection of the editing as well.
  
• Take. Nothing. Personally. (If you do, find another job. NOW.)
  
• The revision process is a dialogue between the editor: somebody who has experience (having read more books in the past week than I have in my life) and objectivity and the author: somebody who creates a world and can't see far enough past her nose to realize the world she has created is flat. And we all know that the world really really really needs to be round or else while dog-paddling off the glaciers, we will fall into oblivion.
• The author's vision is never compromised during revisions. Editors are these amazing people that take a snippet of "wow" from the novel on page 242 and open that door so the author can take that snippet and work her ass off to trying to get the "wow" factor in from page 1. Editors work to make authors better authors. And, I'd like to think, authors work to make editors better editors. (Whenever I get revision notes, my head buzzes with ideas. It's exciting. It's a gift! Really.)
  
• The initial revisions are global, focusing on character development, plot, relationships within the book etc, with some basic line editing to get rid of the same facial expression or "shrug" I've used for three-hundred pages.
• Everything is open for discussion because, like I said, it's a dialogue.
• Take. Nothing. Personally.
  

Revisions are challenging and intimidating. Because, at the end of the day, my editor is always asking me to give more, dig deeper, and really really work to create a better story. And the beautiful thing about editors is that they see the potential in a first draft and see that the book you have written can be a hundred times the book you ever imagined you could write. Somehow, they bring that out.

So ... I'm in the midst of revisions. My head is buzzing. I'm reworking scenes, relationships, revamping characters and having to dig deep -- way deep. And I'm tired. My head hurts. I'm terrified I won't finish on time. But this is what I love. Because, at the end of the day, I have somebody to work with (Ruta! :-) ) who's there to bounce ideas off, to give me the perspective I need, and, well, to remind me that revisions are due May 1. Nothing like a deadline to inspire!!