How not to sell your house in six months...

I know how to sell a house. Really I do. I've sold two so I must be good at it right? Our first house in Las Vegas sold in a little over two weeks. Our second place in Kaysville sold in ten days with two offers. We looked for two days, made an offer on our current house and were moved out within a month. It was over before it even started. It was great.

So when we decided to put our house on the market again it seemed like old hat. First thing- we got to work. We cleaned the place up, replaced the awful tile countertops with granite and boxed up about half of the kids toys; the kinds that have too many little pieces like barbies and legos and stuff. We scrubbed, polished and organized until we were certain it was picture worthy.

Anyway, after six months the house has still not sold. It's frustrating, but okay at the same time. Our kids are still in their same classes, have their same friends and pretty much have been blessed with an "extension" of sorts. But living in a house that is for sale is tough. I admire all the moms out there who keep a spotless house even with lots of kids. I don't know how they do it. I guess you have to be a take charge, don't mess with me kind of mom, who adores cleaning, to make sure kids beds are always made, clothes are picked up, toys are put away. I'm not great at this. Our house is tidy, but not in model home condition except for the ten minutes before the realtor gets there. I just can't make my kids not live in the house. They make forts, assemble lego skyscrappers and strange k'nex airplane thingamajigers, and spread their plethora of papers and homework out on the table, the counter, the living room floor, and my bed. Then there are the shoes. I don't know how it works, but they are everywhere, and I am constantly tripping over them, or yelling for my kiddos to put them away, or putting them away myself when I give up on it ever getting done. I must have put away ten pairs of shoes the other night. And don't get me started on the coats and jackets. It's crazy. My kids drop their coats the MINUTE they get in the house. In fact there is usually a trail of jackets, backpacks, and shoes all the way down the hall to the kitchen. It's like a strip show. I wonder if I keep the house too hot and my kids can't take it? Maybe they are allergic to the laundry soap? It wouldn't be too bad except you can times this by 5. Even my preschooler has learned to drop her load at the door.

So my point is; the house is still for sale. I have five kids who don't understand what all those hooks in the laundry room are for; don't understand why I insist they take down their multi fort/community center made of every blanket we own in the house, and cry the minute I announce that someone is coming to look at the house tomorrow. I'm barely hanging on while my husband travels the earth and I'm stuck wondering what I am doing wrong until I look out the window and see my dog has gotten out and is barking at a nice family who is attempting to grab a flyer from the for sale sign...hmmm, maybe I've had this all wrong. Bad dog Lady! Bad dog!

By the way, let me know if you are interested in a five bedroom, four bath beauty. :)

Thoughts about my latest story...

I've been working on a story about a girl who feels like she's made the wrong choices in her life and wishes she could do it over. I started this story last summer and then put it away for a few months when I got hung up on an idea. Amazingly in the shower the other day I was able to clear up my concerns and suddenly I am biting at the bit to start writing it again.

The thing with this story is that I am basing it out of St. Anthony where I grew up as did most of my friends. One day last spring I was home for a few days and I went running along the river and couldn't help but think what a wonderful place it was to grow up, and wouldn't it be a great setting for a story! You've got the picturesque setting of the Snake weaving its way through down town, a lovely little park that really could be quite remarkable if the city had the money, and come on, the sand bar would make for a great love scene right? So I had this crazy idea for a story and walla! Then I got stuck on a technical difficulty. When you're writing a story that is sort of complex that can happen. Anyway, I am back on track with this little story that I think will be as fun to read as it is fun to write.

So here is what I am asking from some of you: Any great memories of St. Anthony you want to share? Here's an example I am using in the book: She( my protagonist) reminisces about her youth and tells the story about riding her bike with her sister to the Fountain where they ordered strawberry shakes and counted a thousand pieces of previously chewed gum under the bar. (I indulge a bit more, but to keep it short, that's the gist.) She spends a lot of time at the sand bar, jumping off the well and climbing the water tower as a kid ( I know the water tower is gone now, but when we write fiction we can fudge a bit.) And goes fishing a lot with her dad and then eventually her boyfriend/husband.

Anybody want to share a rafting story? The river is a major point in the story. Especially since someone dies on the river and it turns into a bit of a murder mystery. But I may be giving too much away. Anybody jumped off the bridge? If you know me at all you'd know the answer to that question for me pretty quickly. So I'd love to hear what it felt like. Any cool fishing spots? Something near Chester Dam? Everything in this story is fictional, but I do steal from real places and real events, such as the 24th of July parade, and her house which is that really cool house across from the sandbar. I even went through it last summer and the lady was so nice about it. In fact in the beginning of the story there is a big 24th of July party at the park. I've always thought it would be an awesome place for a totally decked out party and in my story the funds, and the know how are readily available, so I was finally able to have my dream summer party at Keefer park.

You can always think about it and send me a private message via facebook, or just write a comment.

New Year Resolutions

Welcome 2010 and good riddance 2009.

Sound Familiar?

I don't know what it was with 09, but I really didn't care for it. It was like an old hamburger left in the back pocket of a hot suburban. (yes, this happened to me and was not pleasant.)

So unpleasant that I'm going to expound. (By the way, don't you love this pic of Macy in the lipstick? Looks like she got in the sauce too. Naughty, Naughty.

So here's the story:

The car stunk. It does that a lot with five kids and lots of road trips. I was cleaning it out, looking for the source of the "smell", when I innocently stuck my hand in a back pocket and pulled out a BLACK, MOLDY Hamburger-- HALF EATEN-- mind you, which means that someone stuck it in there ON PURPOSE and then LEFT IT THERE for like a month! DOES IT SEEM LIKE I'M SHOUTING? Well, sorry, but sometimes the things my kids do drive me bonkers! And the memory is still a little fresh.

Anyway, where was I?

Oh yeah, Happy New Year




Resolution time: I resolve to stop eating chocolate. HA! Just kidding! NOTHING will get that to happen, but I thought I'd sound strong willed for a moment.

Real Resolution: I resolve to write a story that I can actually send to an agent with confidence. Is that possible?


Speaking of agents, one piece of advice agent Jane gave me when I met with her in December was that I needed to pick a genre. A voice. A writer wanting to be published needs to market themselves. Are you a romance writer? Mystery, Womens Fiction? Then you need to put yourself neatly on the shelf and write.



So I ask myself, what kind of writer am I? Well, the first thing is obvious. I am a romance writer, but I don't want to be one of those sappy, over-sexed Harlequins with the Fabio type male neatly painted on the front. I want my stories to mean something more. But this assignment has me stymmed. I've gone back through all my stories. There are four of them. Two are finished. I picked up the third story a few days ago and began reading. I started it in the early summer and then got stuck on an idea and put it away for a few months. Now seeing it with fresh eyes has me excited again. I like the story. Heck, I like my first story, but I'm not sure if it is publishable, though I love it. Not "High Concept" enough. I think I want to be a women's fiction writer with some romance tying it neatly in a bow. Or maybe a romance writer with some fiction tied in. I also like a little mystery, some conflict and lots of tension.Well, I've been paralyzed long enough. (One month to be exact) and I can't wait to get writing again. Whatever I am I plan to be true to it. (Isn't that what Shakespeare admonished?)


What are your resolutions?

Happy New Years everyone.

What I learned at the Writers Workshop...

I am very excited today!

Not because my cold is starting to dissipate, or because I've just caught pink eye from one of my lovely chillens, but because I just returned from an Awesome Writers Workshop!

Yes, this blog is going to be about writing, so before you tune out I just want to say that I feel very hopeful about my future!

It was an interesting workshop. Eight writers, including myself, in two cabins for five days, writing. Sounds fun right? My husband said he'd rather hang himself, but to each his own.

Anyway, it was great and I mean that. I met an agent who told me my story sounded old-fashioned and she didn't know where she'd put it on the shelf, and I still think it was a great experience. In fact that's what made it so positive. I didn't go away with my head full of myself, but with a plan. A foundation to take me to the next level.

So this is the latest plan of attack. I'm going to read like crazy. Pick a genre and read the heck out of everything being spewed from the publishers mouth so I can figure out where I belong. I'm also going to be practising these writers drills so I can find my "voice". That's what they all want. A clear, strong voice and someone that knows for sure what genre they are writing in. So the next few months for me are going to be soul searching. What the agent reiterated was that you have to find your "niche" and stick with it. Only when you are famous can you hop around and hope to have any sort of a following. After all it is a business. Somewhat grudgingly I'll accept this, though I really don't like being labeled or pinned down, but I get what she's saying.

Any writers out there want to share how they picked their genre? Or maybe you could pass along some favorite books for me to read.

I always love your thoughts.
Until next time

It's December already?

It's ten o'clock Thursday night. I'm sitting in the darkened living room staring into the abyss and feeling totally overwhelmed. My nose is the size and color of a strawberry and I've got ten little drummer boys beating against my already swollen sinus's and I'm thinking, Bah humbug.

Normally I look forward to the holidays with much anticipation. We usually go traipsing through a Christmas tree farm, or in the very least a grocery store parking lot to get our tree right after Thanksgiving, and the lights--the lights are always up before the first snow flies, which around here would have been about two weeks ago. Yet here I sit. And I've got nothing.

I don't know what is happening, but my life is in a tailspin, and I can't keep it all together anymore. Hubby is working an hour and a half away and often stays away for two or three days during the week and I don't know, I just need him to come home and do a bunch of stuff. But really what is kicking me in the tail, is this monster of a cold I've come down with. Sinus pressure, ear ache, and the ugliest snotty nose you've seen since your two year old nephew wiped his mucus on your new pair of pants.

It doesn't get better at night either. It's one of those, gagging, wake you up in the middle of the night, cause you must have water before you choke to death, kind of coughs. Then there's the post nasal drip to think about. What's there to think about? How I'm going to wedge a little piece of tissue up my nostril without it tickling me into a sneeze, or worse,worrying that it will become lodged until spring. It's ugly. I'm ugly and my head is so full of gunk that I don't even want to think about Christmas yet. And don't even get me started on those steamy things you stick up your nose to drain all the...Okay I have said way too much about this.

But this is what is so cute about having children. I was lamenting the fact that we still didn't have a single Christmas decoration up, let alone a tree and my little three year old piped up, "Yes we do!" and then she climbed off the couch, ran upstairs and came down with a little Christmas tree that has been the only piece of landscaping for the barbie house all summer, (since we forgot to put it away last Christmas see, and I was feeling way too lazy to pull down the Christmas box just for one tiny little piece of greenery.

So here is our Christmas tree. Cute isn't it? And how proud Macy was for making everything all better. You know what was the best though? We didn't even have to walk across the parking lot to get it. That's my kind of Christmas Tree!

What would you do?

Do you ever do something and then later doubt whether you made the right choice? I do this all the time. Split second decisions, lamented for days, sometimes weeks afterwards.

Here is the set up:

Black Friday-
Waiting in Aeropostale to buy a pair of jeans for oldest son who won't stop growing and can't keep a pair of pants longer than six months. Sorry to blather about my growing boy... Anyway,

back to the subject at hand: There are two checkers and they are both helping other people. No one else is in line, so I stand at the front, but get distracted with one of those jewelry turn tables just to my left. I probably spent one minute admiring all their really cool necklaces.

I turn around and realize that while I was being distracted by dazzling silver and gold, four or five people have found their way into the partitioned line and I have edged myself almost out of the line all together. I panic, thinking that they don't know I am in line. The line gets longer by the second. The lady in front of me is still at the checkout, but I don't know if the other lady at the checkout is the same one from before.

And I'm hot. My coat has added about ten degrees to my body heat and I've got a list a mile long to get through. I stand there mulling over whether to go to the back of the line or if I am still considered in line. The girl behind me is the same one I was behind in Old Navy. She took forever! Seriously I watched the other checkers go through three or four additional people in the time it took for her to check out! I'm not thinking it's payback time, but I AM thinking I do NOT want to get behind her again!

A checker is free. It’s time to pony up or go to the back…

Now I want to hear what you think I should do next. What are the etiquette rules for standing in line? If you are not religiously watching the checker are you out? If you miss your turn and someone goes in front of you is it back to the end of the line for you? If someone gives you a dirty look did you break etiquette or could they just be having a bad day? I want to hear your ideas. Some of us weren’t born with white gloves on and have to learn it the hard way.

Counting on your wisdom to guide me along...

Let's Talk Turkey...

Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and that's all good and fine, but what I really want to talk about is what you all think about this "Friend" business on Facebook.

It goes like this. You add a friend, say a few pleasantries and three months later you have a little picture of your new friend on the side of your wall saying you should be friends because you have a bazillion friends in common. You think to yourself, "But we are friends, aren't we?" And then you type in their name and sure enough you are locked out,shut off and banned from friend-dom. Is this a phenomenon that happens only with me or have any of you had this experience?

I can only think of a couple reasons to "un-friend" someone. They are offensive, rude or annoying. Any other reasons? Maybe you want to keep the number down below 200 and suddenly you find you are at 201 and somebody MUST go. Do you play eenie meenie minie moe, or just delete someone randomly? Or perhaps more commonly,you didn't want to be friends with this person in the first place. However, under laws of social graces you said yes, waited a week or two, and then when they weren't looking, cut them off cold. Hmmm. Sounds probable. Don't get me wrong; sure it hurts momentarily, even when its done by someone you have no desire to play scrabble with on Friday night, let alone say hello on their wall, but there are no hard feelings on my side. I get it, really. My husband does it all the time. Says he didn't ever really know these people and doesn't need to be friends with them now. But I can't help but wonder if it wouldn't just be better if you denied them from the beginning. No false pretenses, no fingers crossed behind your back, just out and out I'm not interested in swapping status's with you, or looking at the many family photos in your album. Wouldn't that be a more honest way to let people down? Anyway, it's just a thought. But just so you know, if I say yes to you I promise not to unfriend you behind your back. One thing I've never been accused of is being a fake friend. I tell it like I see it. Get's me in trouble sometimes, but I sleep better at night for it.