Heather's Handmade Life: Choosing to live, work and parent with happiness + creativity

Unlike this cute little cartoon, it was actually a very kind letter. “Rejection” really isn’t a word I would use to describe it — except it technically was a rejection.

They said their publishing house wasn’t publishing any Young Adult Fiction now, but they actually suggested three other publishers — two I have not yet pitched — and apologized for not being more helpful.

Wow.

I thought I would be sad to get a rejection letter, but I feel OK about it. As my mom likes to remind me, Stephen King — one of my favourite authors — was rejected before hitting it big with his first novel. When the right to Carrie sold for $400,000, he got half of that!

Since I’ve started pitching, I’ve been adding to my novel, to beef up some of the areas I felt were lacking. I even added a whole new element to the plot, that I think really helps. I believe it had good bones, when I started pitching, but now I’m trying to give it more meat.

But at night, after a long day at work, a long commute home, and all of the cooking-dinner-washing-dishes crap that comes with a regular day, I’m so tired. I can’t think, let alone write. I have been thinking about going to bed earlier and getting up extra-early, to get in some writing before work. Maybe my mind will be fresher? Maybe I’ll try it next week, and see how it goes.

The thought that my story, at any moment, could be picked up by a publisher, has truly kicked my ass into gear. This is what I want. I can’t say it any other way — this is what I want, so badly.

So the rejection letter? It’s going in a frame above my writing desk. Motivation, people! I’m Stephen King, and this is my Carrie!

Da da da da da da …

Posted on May 6, 2009 by Heather Laura Clarke

2 Comments

Every one in a while, I get little glimpses of the kind of mother I’m going to be.

Singing, for example. I may love belting it out in the car, but I am a horrendous singer. However, I am constantly singing, rhyming, and telling stories to Little Dog.

When she runs up her miniature doggie steps to look out the front window, I sing How much is that doggie in the window? I entertain her with a rousing round of Do you know the muffin man? as I bake.

Honestly, I should be teaching nursery school or something. I’m freaking Mother Goose.

But I only started noticing it recently, after Darling Husband caught me lifting up her floppy little ear and singing something into it.

“What are you saying to her?” he asked, looking at me strangely.

“Picnic time for teddy bears. You know? ‘The little teddy bears are having a lovely time today. Da da da da da da …'”

Blank stares from Darling Husband. He claims his parents did not read nursery rhymes to him, and I think he might be right. He honestly wouldn’t know Hickory Dickory Dock from Pussycat, Pussycat.

Oh well. At least I’m well-qualified to educate them.

P.S. If your Mother Goose education was lacking — like that of my sweet husband — here are the lyrics. Study them, memorize them –because at some point as a mommy or daddy, you’ll need to sing, and you will probably get sick of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

Teddy Bear Picnic

If you go down to the woods today

You’re sure of a big surprise.

If you go down to the woods today

You’d better go in disguise.

For ev’ry bear that ever there was

Will gather there for certain, because

Today’s the day the teddy bears have their picnic.

Ev’ry teddy bear who’s been good

Is sure of a treat today.

There’s lots of marvelous things to eat

And wonderful games to play.

Beneath the trees where nobody sees

They’ll hide and seek as long as they please

Cause that’s the way the teddy bears have their picnic.

If you go down to the woods today

You’d better not go alone.

It’s lovely down in the woods today

But safer to stay at home.

For ev’ry bear that ever there was

Will gather there for certain, because

Today’s the day the teddy bears have their picnic.

Picnic time for teddy bears

The little teddy bears are having a lovely time today

Watch them, catch them unawares

And see them picnic on their holiday.

See them gaily gad about

They love to play and shout;

They never have any care;

At six o’clock their mummies and daddies,

Will take them home to bed,

Because they’re tired little teddy bears.

All in the family

Posted on May 5, 2009 by Heather Laura Clarke

2 Comments

Some extended families talk about the weather. Or sports. I wonder what that’s like …

You see, Darling Husband’s auntie is in town, so last night we paid a visit to his parents’ place to see her.

“I was talking with my friends the other day,” Visiting Aunt tells me over tea and dessert. She pauses suddenly. “They … they don’t know you, of course.”

Oh dear. This can’t be good.

“Anyway,” she continues. “I was telling them how you and my nephew are going to be trying soon, and that you’re taking the vitamins …”

Oh God.

“And they couldn’t believe that I knew all of that!” Visiting Aunt chuckles. “One said, ‘Oh, I would never know such personal details about my family.’ And I said, ‘Yes, we’re all very close.'”

I smiled weakly and shovelled more dessert into my mouth. I don’t mind that Darling Husband’s family knows our plans. I mean, we’ve been married just about a year, and everyone knows how much we want kids. “Trying” is not really a surprise.

And, of course, since we are all “so very close,” everyone knows we can’t try until Best Friend’s wedding (two months, one week, six days).

I don’t mind them knowing. But after last night, I’m thinking … if it doesn’t happen in July, or August, or September, not only am I going to be anxious/disappointed every month, but I’m going to have a slew of phone calls from across the country asking if it’s happened?

I think it’s time to start keeping my mouth shut … in real life, at least.