Oh, Monday. And Frogs.

It is Monday again already. How did this happen?! So you may have noticed I haven't blogged much, and I swear I have a good reason! You know, besides being up to my eyeballs in edits and trying to balance that with summer vacation with my kids.

We've had a major heat wave here in NYC and because of this extreme heat, our power was down for nearly three days. No Internet. No TV. No lights or air conditioning. It was brutal. But I survived! And so did my family and my pets. There were no casualties, save for one fish that is unaccounted for. But I am blaming his disappearance on the monster belly of my growing catfish. 

Today is my dad's 60th birthday!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD! I LOVE YOU! And he's stuck in a hospital two states away. I tell ya, moving away from home is not all it's cracked up to be. But not to worry, he's a tough old biker. He'll be fine. 

Back to that heat wave. We were all a little loony in my house those days when the temps were above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Loonier than usual. My daughter (7 years old) was crouching on the couch with her knees bent up by her ears, making *ribbit* noises and pretending to catch flies with her tongue, (this is really a totally normal thing for her, not at all heat induced) and my husband walked by and she said, "Daddy, I'm a frog."

Really? A Frog? Not a chicken? I was totally leaning toward chicken.

This got me thinking about writing, as most things do. Especially when my whole body feels like melty goo and I CAN'T work on my book because I have no electricity and my laptop is a tiny dinosaur who has the battery life of... something that only has a 30 minute charge. I can't even think of anything that sucks battery life that bad.  

So. Writing. It was obvious she was pretending she was a frog, right? You got that too? And yet she still felt that she had to tell my husband. We do this in our writing. We all do this. Don't fib. I can see your soul.

We tell. Even when we think we're showing. 

We can describe something, a feeling or emotion, so perfectly, and then we still end up tagging it with the emotion we're trying to describe. (ex. My heart raced with fear.) 

This is where amazing crit partners, and lots of hours spent in the revision cave come in handy. Turning yesterday's crap into a little less crap. 

I had a point here. I know I did. I think it was something like "trust your reader." Readers are a highly intelligent breed. They'll pick it up. 

If it walks like a duck...or hops like a frog.

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