Hello everybody! The Fresh Pioneer is back and I have news to share!
(This post has been brought to you by Little Critter. Author illustrator Mercer Mayer publishes these with Golden Press and Random House. We have a huge collection. They seem to fit every occasion.)
Anyway, NEWS!!
I got a wonderful phone call from my editor Shana Smith a few weeks ago. She says she did NOT hear me yelling at my children as someone handed me the ALREADY OPENED CELL PHONE.
At least, I'm pretty sure I was yelling. I might have been saying something loudly for all to hear. Something about their mess of a room. But, I digress...
I've always wanted a book contract for more than one book. Maybe even one that wasn't written yet. It's called a blind contract and that means you sign on the line and PROMISE to write a book. How fun is that??? And Shana offered one! The wonderful folks at Love Inspired wanted to buy the book I'd sent as a sequel to Season of Joy (Nov 2012) AND one of those grown-up deals for a book that didn't even exist yet!
Hooray for me!!!!
I babbled on and on and on. Poor Shana. Anyway, I finally let her off the phone.
I felt like this for a whole five minutes!!!
And then I started to worry. Mr. Big Bad Joy-Stealer started to whisper in my ear. Didn't I have enough on my plate? Boy, was I going to have my hands full! (Which I might point out, no one ever says to the President of the United States because it's rude. It implies you are inherently incapable and will FAIL.)
Mr. Doubty-Pants is a bully who likes to remind me of all the things that must be done around here and how I am the only who can do them.
Uh oh, the children will go without shoes! (Wait, they usually run barefoot anyway.)
We do have frogs. If they get out, I'm not going to go looking. (If the turtles get loose, then we'll probably have to find them. That big one likes to bite.)
We've got a newly potty trained kid and one just starting out. Don't their bathroom needs come first?? What if setting up a new writing schedule puts them years behind their peers? What if they're wearing diapers at the prom??? (Hm. Mr. Whispery Voice of Doom, I have to say the prom was overrated. Try again.)
Won't my six beautiful darlings hate me forever because I'm working on a project wholly unrelated to their needs? (Actually, most of these smallish people understand the direct correlation between my typing frantically at a keyboard and the number of cool trips we get to take. For the ones who miss the point, there is always candy to win back their fickle little hearts.)
What about home schooling? They'll get years behind if I try to take on any more than I already have! They will never get a job and will live in my house FOREVER! (Mr. Fear-of-the-Future, you obviously haven't seen us in action. Every time we have a newborn, I face this fear and stomp it into the ground while clutching their awesome test scores. Try again.)
What? Already? No more whispery-worries-in-the-dark? Well, now that we've got the cowardly doubts put to bed...
We can take a good hard look at the situation and see what's actually true.
Contracted books mean revisions, first (ARG!!! Pain!! Torture!! Mayhem!!.. Ok, done whining. Sorry.) It also means excellent time management, scheduling, planning, and perseverance.
A contract means understanding there are only so many hours in the day. It means we have to sleep, eat, and pray without ceasing. (And I mean only that last part without ceasing. Although I do like to eat without ceasing. And nap intermittently.)
It means encouraging small people to help themselves, even when I do love to brush their hair and pick out matching socks and wipe noses. (Can you tell which one is a BIG LIE. Hint: it's not the socks.)
It means letting other people do a job that I could do better, because I need their help. I think this is good for everybody, really.
So, now that I've signed on the line (whee!), just in time for Speedbo, I've got lots of work to do. And there are still people to feed around here. So, here's a super quick warm-you-up snack. It's silly simple, but hey, remember that contract. We're on Speedbo time here.
So, chop a few Granny Smith apples.
Per one apple, add 1 tsp water, dash of cinnamon, 1/2 tsp sugar.
Zap in the microwave for 3 minutes.
Ta-dah! Compote de Pommes a la Maison. heehee! Seriously, they're pretty tasty. And don't take a lot of time. and kids can make them ALONE. Bonus. If you don't want them to handle the knives or have an older kid to chop (or trust them with the sugar) you can always prepare a bunch in a bag for the freezer. Even in smaller bags, for each portion. But let's not make it complicated, right?
So, thanks for sharing my good news with me, Yankee Belle Cafe folks! I'll see you around the 1k1hr group on facebook to keep myself accountable (Away with you, Pinterest!) and on track. :)
And if you haven't guessed, the next book will also be a Christmas book! I've never loved Christmas so much in my life!
Until next time, when Julie Hilton Steele will be posting some great tips from the World War II era!
