Lauri Meyers .

Good news abounds!  I have had a fun couple weeks.  Sure there was one rejection letter in there, but you know it didn't completely knock me down this time.  I must be toughening up!   If you have an aversion to exclamation points, please sit down before continuing ( bad habits die hard. )  I bought myself!  At the low price of $10, I am a steal.  My name at least- as in "www.laurimeyers.com."  Woot, woot!   "But what about the dirty girls?" you cry.   No worries.  The girls are still dirty, and their mom's parenting is still lacking.  More things I am too embarrassed to share but do anyway are bound to occur! My first page picture prompt got selected for agent critique over at Writing and Illustrating !  Ever since dragons took over London, poor Copernica has not been able to keep up with fashion at all.   If you are a YA writer looking for prompts, please check out Kathy Temean's site. I received the Very Inspiring Blogger Award from EB P

My husband thinks I'm a liar.   I talked to him at lunch and mentioned how I cleaned the living room and the kitchen was sparkling.   (I am a bad enough housekeeper that these feats require bragging).   That was at noon.    Now it is five.   And the living room is piled high with toys.   A pile of princesses is weeping in a destroyed palace of blocks.  The dinosaur pile is attacking the Little People pile.   The kingdoms are divided by the deadly Swamp of Puzzle.   Every puzzle box has been emptied into the Swamp.  Dora's head floats by an alligator and hippo.  Princess Ariel's tail narrowly avoids a crash with a loose M and a wood 3.   Train pieces and truck pieces add noise to the chaos.  I love puzzles, but this is going to take some serious puzzle making to sort all the pieces to the correct box and verify no pieces no left behind. The task is overwhelming and reminds me of the puzzles I am trying to solve as a writer. There's the social media

I posted recently about finding my binder with my childhood writing , including my 3000 word story Camp Tak-a-Wak-a which was published in the local paper.    Here's what my sixth grade self taught me about writing for children: Action   The action was crazy fast.   It was even a little uncomfortable for an old-timer like me to keep up with the pace.  Tension was created through the tight pace and the tidbits the main character threw out.  "Oh no, not Mr. Hammond!"   Why not I wondered and kept reading to find out.  Anything is Possible    Parts of the story were not completely plausible for the mom in me, but were totally reasonable for my young self.  She stretched some rules - what is so wrong with a 2AM bedtime?  Part of writing for children means getting to think like kids and letting your imagination run wild. Main Character The independence of the main character suggested she was an early teen.  It follows the wisdom children want to read abo

     Recently at a dinner party with people I was meeting for the first time I said, "I am a writer."       Well, it didn't come out exactly like that.  It was more like:  via sxc.hu      "I used to work in a big fancy corporation like you do, but then I decided to stay home with my children, and I thought maybe little old me could try to put a few words on a paper, and now I am sort of trying to, like, write a children's book or something."   Illustration note:   A blond-haired gerbil shrinks a little with each word until in tiny little 8 point font she squeaks, "I have a blog too."      I waited for the response, presumably "Oh, that's nice dear."   But instead I heard "Oh, that's wonderful.  I always wanted to be a writer!"   Illustration note:  tiny gerbil grows bulging muscles and smiles from ear to ear.      The guest proceeded to tell me a story about his college writing class.   It went someth

When Kasie Whitener asked me to guest post at her blog Life on Clemson Road, I was incredibly excited.   Then I realized she must not know I am an Ohio State grad. Or the statute of limitations has run out on Woody Hayes v. Clemson. To take advantage of her hospitality I wrote a post titled How to Stalk an Editor .  So now we have one of those Ohio State hooligans talking about stalking people on her site.  Sorry Kasie.  To make it up to her please go read the post and leave Kasie and I some nice comments.    I hope it goes without saying the post isn't literally about stalking which would be illegal or worse - super creepy.   It is about taking the time to diligently research potential publishers (but that sounds boring).   jcoelho via Flickr Why do I "stalk," you may be asking?  1.  It is a good way to spend time when your manuscript is in the freezer chilling before you edit it again.  A significantly better way to spend your time than on, say, h

Do you remember acrostic poems?    T his is an easy variety of poetry for grade school kids, with each line starting from a letter in a word or phrase.   I have queries on the brain since I set a goal to complete ten this month.   As of midnight last night I had done two.   I seem to have forgotten how difficult queries are (or how difficult I make them...) You may be saying, "Why not work on a query now, fair maiden?"  But alas, procrastinating with an acrostic poem is too delicious of an option.  Plus I am quite certain a little break for creativity will unleash my productivity for the rest of the day.  The 10 marshmallows I just ate will also contribute their fair share.         Q uite         U gly         E diting         R arely gets         Y es.         Q uality writing         U rges         E ditors to         R equest         Y our ms.         Q uizzical looks         U nfortunately         E nd with         R ewriting  

My muse locked herself in her room.  I persuaded her to come out for one blog post with a bribe of mini ravioli and Diet Coke with lime.  Even though we are in a heat wave, only the sweet taste of comfort food can lessen the pain of a fresh rejection letter.  I was extremely excited about my first rejection letter , even though it was a photocopied form letter.   The second rejection letter included my name and my manuscript title and said they really enjoyed reading my manuscript.   The third rejection letter said they saw the manuscript's potential and included my name and my manuscript title and an actual ink signature!    Querying was like high speed sailing!  I had a serious rush with each new letter.  And I was moving up the rejection letter ladder.  Today's letter was different.  It left me afloat in the middle of the lake; no wind in my sails. (by pale via sxc.hu) When I researched this editor, I wanted to write something for her.  I just lear

Trying something new... heading for the drink.  This year has been full of firsts.   First query letter.   First blog post.   First submission.   First interview.     First book review.    First critique.   First tweet.    First rejection.   Most of the time I have been in over my head. Luckily I have started every new job in over my head.  I had a really pervasive habit of saying "That sounds challenging, and I am underqualified.  I am in!"  I have swallowed enough salt water to fill a killer whale enclosure.   As a result of all these years of dog paddling, I have learned the most growth occurs in the midst of challenge.  Here are my coping mechanisms to stay afloat: Gather data.   I can't wrap my mind around where to start until I have some background information.  This has annoyed most people I have worked with.  But I have to do it.  I study.  I research.  I ask questions.   If I am lucky, I find some numbers, because I love numbers (nerd alert).  

          Let's just assume I was allowed in the deer enclosure.     I was a tomboy growing up.   I had an older sister, so all the girly skills were already taken.   She cooked with my mom, while I was out in the garage with my dad pounding nails into a board to make a pretend cash register.   While she was learning to clean; I was learning to mow the grass.             As a result I got to live on the wild side.  My dad brought me up on the roof while he was installing new shingles.  I was one.  (He says I was in a box, so it was okay. I got stuck in a box a lot. )   He let me make Rice-a-Roni at the hot stove sitting on a stool.  I was four.  He propped me on the railing outside the gorilla enclosure at the zoo.  We'll pretend there weren't signs back then, but I suspect there probably were.                I got to ride on the back of his bike without a bike seat or helmet.  One day he was taking me to an evil day care where children were forced to eat