On writing a book: Part 3

This is what I look like when I write.

Remember how I'm writing a book? (I know, it's so cliché.) Well, I feel like I learn volumes every time I sit down and write, so here are a few more brief lessons and things I'm noticing, just in case you're wondering.

• Sometimes I'm excited to write. I'm just feeling it and things are happening and life is good. Other times, it seems like everything is coming out sounding like a ten year old wrote it. Or I'm just tired of thinking about it and tired of making myself think about it. It's nights like these where you just have to surrender and, say, watch Ghost Dad in the name of research. (There's a little teaser for you—you'll have to guess how it's related to the book. Cryptic?) That way, you're still making some kind of "progress" on your book and you don't feel so guilty, even if no words were written.
• It's been interesting, learning the way that I write a book. It's almost like I have to learn over and over again that the book is not simply going to flow out of my brain with perfect ease and perfect prose and a pulitzer prize stamped on it. I hate learning that. But I'm realizing that I have to just get something down on the page—sometimes it's good and sometimes it needs work—and then I have let it sit for a while and then go back and make adjustments and additions and subtractions. I should have learned this from how I blog: I usually post something at night and then my brain goes to work while I'm unconscious, and I almost invariably make changes or additions the next morning. Have you noticed?
• Speaking of brains, brains are amazing. Mine even gives me ideas before I consciously try to think of them. It does so much work on overtime and totally doesn't get enough credit. Here's your shout out, brain. Thanks for all the good ideas. (But you're also to blame if this book bombs.)
• Once upon a time, Anna left a purple-glitter-filled bouncy ball on my desk, and it's been there for a couple months now. Almost unintentionally, it has become my thinking ball. When I am at a stopping point and need to think and find some direction before I move on, I grab the ball and give it a twirl (it's just so shiny and pretty) and maybe try out some cool David Bowie moves à la Labrynth. It totally works. And I'm not giving it back. 
• I feel like I've made pretty good progress, considering I started this whole thing not knowing what in the world I was doing. And I feel like my momentum is definitely increasing, as I now know what I'm actually writing about and what needs to happen. That's a nice feeling.
• But I'm starting to get just a tiny bit nervous that I only have three months left. I'm probably one-third or halfway finished. I can still do it, but wow.

So here's my progress report thus far, since my blog is apparently my accountability partner.

My book so far.
Pages: 73
Words: 20,780
Chapters: 8
References to a Tom Jones song * : 1 . . . so far
Times I use the phrase "sugarbum" * : 2, and maybe more to come

* the mark of a good book

Plenty of pancakes

I've posted about pancakes before, the sinfully delicious buttermilk ones that should be are only for special occasions around here, but here is another great recipe I tweaked that is a bit more healthful—and almost as delicious. This recipe uses mostly whole wheat flour and, of course, the magical ingredient that makes the world a better place: buttermilk.

Whole Wheat Buttermilk Pancakes

1 C whole wheat flour
1/2 C all-purpose flour
2 Tbs sugar (totally optional)
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 C buttermilk
2 eggs
1 Tbs butter
1 tsp vanilla extract

Combine flours, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a mixing bowl and whisk together. In a separate bowl, combine buttermilk, eggs, butter, and vanilla and whisk well. (A note about the butter: Some recipes say to melt the butter before you add it to the wet ingredients, but I find that it just solidifies when it hits the cold buttermilk anyway. So I just mix in some softened butter and it seems to work out just fine, even if there are little chunks.) Add the wet ingredients into the dry and mix just until moistened. Heat pan to medium heat. Coat pan with cooking spray or a little butter and then pour pancake batter.

Makes 12 large or 24 small pancakes.

Handyman Ash

I've been a little bit crafty and a little bit handy lately, if I do say so myself, doing a little woodwork and sanding and blinging. I don't do it often, but when the idea strikes, you just have to go with it. I love how the two projects turned out, but I'm pretty sure I've hit my quota for the year.

So without further ado, some good before and after shots.

Project 1: Bulletin Board Remix

I've wanted a bulletin board for a while now, but they're really pretty ugly by themselves. So I thought I could do something to make one a little bit cooler. A little bit more fun. And I love it. It makes me happy just to look at it.

Step 1. Buy one of these.

Then resize six sheets of fun and happy scrapbook paper and glue on.

And be sure to cover up your measuring mistakes with a fancy ribbon. Done.

Project 2: Mirror Revamp

My parents have had this mirror for an eternity, and over the years it has gotten quite beaten and battered. A lot of the decorative trim was broken off and it was kind of a sad eyesore, so I decided I could give it a new life. This is the picture I took before I totally destroyed all of the trim. (I'll admit it was a little bit fun, being so destructive.)

Trim gone.

Sliver-generating edges sanded down.

Wood painted and bling added. (I thought I had a picture of the whole thing, but I guess it's a blogger fail. You get the idea.) I initially thought I would just leave it plain white, but in the end it was just not doing it for me. It needed something else. And the sparkles were just the thing. I should take a lesson from Anna. She's known this for years: when in doubt, add more glitz.

A conversation with Anna

Anna: Mom, I have more than two arms.

me: Oh really? How many do you have?

Anna: 48.

me: 48?! What do you do with 48 arms?

Anna: Help people.

me: Oh, I see. I guess 48 arms would be useful, then.

Anna: Yeah, sometimes it's good and sometimes it's bad.

me: What happens when it's bad?

Anna: I could knock over people's gardens . . .

me: Yes, that would be bad.

Anna: . . . of pigs. Ha ha! I said 'gardens of pigs'!