Reasons I'm Hoping You Say Yes

1. Elephant would be sad if you didn't. Think about our pudgy little kitten.

All kidding aside, these past months have been a crazy whirlwind of fun, excitement, and growth. From our first adventure in the Pace University dark room, to getting kittens (REAL LIVE KITTENS!) we've come closer and closer and most importantly, did it together. Kyran has been nice enough to lend me some real estate on her blog to just run down a small list on why I'm hoping you say yes. Since graduation we've conquered huge beasts. We found an apartment in the biggest city of them all, we are well on our way to starting our careers and we cant forget the kittens. You are my rock. You are my inspiration. You are my person. If someone were to ask me how I know you're the one, this is the abbreviated list I would give.

1. Zombies. Plain and simple, I could think of no other person I would rather see the entrails of the recently deceased (and reanimated) with strewn across the big screen.

2. You support my comics/gaming habits. I support your shoes, all of them.

3. I love your people, you love mine and they all love each-other. Who could ask for anything more?

4. You're always pushing me to dream big, and make the most of it. You're my dream girl.

5. You make killer eggs in the morning (noon, and night). Your cooking in general is fantastic. You can make vodka sauce in a jar SING with your culinary additions.

6. You never hesitate to help anyone. Strangers, friends, and family all get lumped together in one big group and you're never afraid to extend a helping hand.

7. We uphold our values and faith daily, no matter who's watching. I've never seen you back down from your faith and it's admirable.

8. You're one of the finest writers I know. A true wordsmith. Your writing makes me a more creative person.

9. We continue to learn about one another each and every day. Not once has it changed the way I think about you.

10. Because of you, I've never felt more comfortable to reach out to someone (Kyran) and ask her to show the world just how much I love you.

You've let me con you into going to the dark room once again to ask you the four most important words I've ever uttered thus far.

So what do you say (if you haven't yet)?

Mallory, will you marry me?

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Take a Bigger Piece of My Heart

It's been increasingly apparent to me that becoming a book author is going to change the way I approach blogging, though how is still not entirely clear. But some things are coming into focus. For one thing, I'm not in the business of blogging. Which is an enormous relief, since I've never been that adept or that interested in the business end of social media. Many bloggers I know and admire have made online publishing their business, and I am really excited for them. It makes my head spin sometimes to see how rapidly a small group of people blogging for the hell of it has evolved into a serious, professional enterprise; a force to be reckoned with. I'm very proud to be associated with it in any marginal way.

Me, I'm a professional writer, and an amateur blogger. It's so freeing to accept that blog ads are never going to do more than pay my domain registration fees, that I never have to understand what SEO is, and that I can continue to cheerfully ignore my sitemeter (as I have done for months and months upon end) and all the other acts of due diligence a pro blogger should rightfully heed.

This blog has always had a small but extremely dedicated following of really fabulous people, and I'm perfectly happy for it to stay that way. I am on the masthead of a magazine that is read by millions of people every month. I hope this doesn't sound like I take them or you for granted for one fraction of a second, because I don't, but I don't think I need a strategic plan for my blog. The strategy is to let it be what it's always been: a personal creative space. My notebook.

One small manifestation of this clarification is moving to full feed posts. I so much appreciate being able to read other people's blogs in my google reader (in fact, it's the only way I do these days), that it's only fair to return the favor. So, please feel free to subscribe to blog posts here , though I certainly hope you will continue to click through to comment.

There are some other technical changes coming down the pike, principally, a shift to an eponymous domain, under which Notes will be nested. I sometimes think I need to move to shorter posts in the interest of energy and material conservation, but honestly, I'll probably just continue to post what I feel like, when I feel like it. I hope you like it too.

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Hollah Back Ma

I'm trying to be a better neighbor. If you are a mom, blogging in Arkansas, or know of one, please introduce yourself/her in the comments section. Don't forget the url!!

(Men who run with muthabloggahs also welcome to hollah)

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Transmorgrofire a la Carte

On the transmorgrofire menu today:

• Bug
  
• Normal
  
• volassarapter
  
• Eell
  
• Baboon
  
• tiger
  

Or, I'm told, today's special permits a combination of any of the above. The ethics of which may be questionable.

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Just When He Thought It Was Safe.

According to Patrick, all the plots of my favorite movies can be reduced to "a bunch of random stuff happening, and then it rains frogs." One of our marriage's running gags is when he gets roped into watching one of those films all the way through, because it seems like somebody might do something this time, but then at the last minute, they don't, which triggers a string of obscenities before he stomps off to bed, disgusted.

Last night he sat with me on the couch and watched me play Endless Ocean on our Wii. Between snow days, a sewage emergency, and manuscript revisions being late, mama's happy place is getting harder to find. I've been escaping briefly to this virtual scuba diving game, which lets you wander serenely among coral reefs in an imaginary South Pacific sea, to the sound of your breathing apparatus and Enya-like singing.

Patrick took it in for a few minutes, then asked, "Where are you supposed to go?"

"Where ever I feel like."

"What are you supposed to do with the fish?"

"Just look at them."

"Can you catch them? Do you have a spear or a net or something?"

"I have a camera."

"Look out for the shark! It's going to get you!"

"It can't get me."

"It's not going to eat you?"

"Nope."

"Can you harpoon it?"

"Nope."

"What the hell is the point of this game?

"'There's nowhere to go, there's nothing to get,'" I said, quoting a meditation instructor I had once.

"This is just like one of those (expletive) movies," he said, realizing he'd once again been suckered into wasting time and attention on something would likely end with a rain of frogs, or the underwater equivalent.

He got up, and started walking back to his office, shaking his head in disgust.

"You've got to admit," he said, turning around and pointing at the screen, "this would be vastly more interesting with a few shark attacks."

Really, so would several of those movies. But I'd miss the cursing as the credits roll.

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Sweet funny valentine

My 11-year-old had this waiting for me when I got up this morning. I love it more than all the chocolates and all the flowers in the world.

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Wild Thing

You make my heart sing.

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Visions and Revisions

Late with manuscript revisions, and almost every night I awake in a panic attack, convinced that the next morning will bring word from my agent and/or editor: "Know what? Never mind." Instead, they've been nothing but patient and supportive, though we are all eager to be finished, and none so desperately as me. Like a mirage, I always think the end is closer than it is, but I'm closing in.

Some days it's great, and others it's like trying to walk a stubborn 80-pound Lab, who keeps wanting to stop and roll around in something dead. In other words, I'm not entirely in control of the process. As I neared the end of the first draft, back in November, I realized I was trying to tell two stories at the same time, with two distinctly different themes and tones. My editor concurred. Making the necessary revisions was like separating conjoined twins. Not easy for this Mama to do. I don't know if the thousands of words I cut out will develop into something else down the road, but I do know that the surviving story is much livelier now, and more fun for me.

Some people find enlightenment in exotic places; I seem to find it at cub scout meetings. "Do Your Best" is a powerful insurance policy against 3 a.m. panic attacks. As I've printed off each revised chapter, I've felt the satisfaction of knowing those pages are the best I can make them (at least until my editor shows me where I can make them better). It's powerful, because so much worse than the fear of blowing it by not being on time, or not selling books, or getting bad reviews, is the fear of putting something half-assed out there. I feel like I can face every other worst-case scenario as long as I know I did my best.

I hope to be able to give you a publication date very soon. Thanks for checking in.

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