It’s been a long summer. While I’ve enjoyed the majority of it, there was a lot happening. The wedding, my daughter wrecking her younger brother’s BMX bike and having a trauma team waiting for us at Children’s Hospital…the wedding…

My muse went on vacation, probably to someplace tropic and it’s going to be fun getting her back here where she belongs. But while I wasn’t writing, the ideas were forming and I have a notebook full of stuff in which to write and I was doing some serious soul-searching. You see, I used to be able to write like the wind and then something happened. It became less fun and more daunting as I tried to please everyone except myself–hence my characters stfu. I need my characters to blather on and on. I need them to reveal things to me. The stress was not only killing them, but it was killing me too.

My new approach? I’m going to pretend that I didn’t get published. I’m going to write for fun with no anticipation. I’m not going to think about the sale or how to get the sale and see what happens.

What about you? Has their been something–anything that you loved to do, but haven’t been able to do it because you sucked the fun or joy out of it?

The day, August 21, 2010  was perfect. Perfect dress, perfect hair, all four of our kids were able to stand in for us as our Maids of Honor’s and Best Men.  We planned this in a little over three weeks, but it felt like I’d been waiting a lifetime to get married. Okay, so thirteen years. ;)  As my newly christened daughter said, “This is the last piece of the puzzle.” She had no idea that I felt the same way and had even purchased silver puzzle pieces to give to the kids after Mark and I exchanged our rings. Not only did I gain a husband, the man I want to grow old with and love for the rest of my life, but I gained a beautiful daughter. We were already a family, but this just cemented it in an intimate ceremony.

This blog post is dedicated to my son and to all of the families out there who have a soldier in their lives.

It took me a couple of days to be able to sit here and write this. As a little girl, the 4th of July meant picnics, family, fireworks and festivities around the town. I had three Uncles who served in the United States Air Force and acquired an Aunt who joined their ranks. My Pap proudly served in the Army/Air Corp. And I served a short time in the Air Force and my fiance’ (soon-to-be-husband) served in the US Army. At a young age, I never really sat down and thought about all the sacrifices that were made. I was too excited about watching the fireworks and twirling sparklers and later, boy watching.

This 4th was different. if you’ve read this blog, read my facebook or twitter, you probably know by now that my oldest son, Blaize is going into the USAF. He’s leaving sometime in October. A lot of people have said, “You should be used to this.”  Even though I know what Blaize is going to go through in basic training, it’s completely different. I’m extremely proud of him, but at the same time, I’m horribly worried because never in my lifetime has our freedom been more at stake than it is right now.

My hometown has lost five young men to the wars.  This 4th of July, their mothers were honored. I don’t ever want to have to sit in those seats.

Blaize was asked to sing during the festivities this year in the town’s brand-spanking-new plaza. He declined but offered to read poems. I read the one and told him there was no way I could hear that. I wanted to be there for him, to support him, but at the same time, my heart wasn’t ready for the reality that he’s growing up and making his own choices and that soon, my first born is going to leave the nest. There’s a lot of uncertainty in that. I regret not being there for the entire ceremony, but I am glad that I got to be there when he read the final poem I’m going to post here. I’m glad I got to hear our former Mayor sing Blaize’s praises and grateful for the pictures that were taken of how humble my son is.

I don’t know the woman/girl who wrote this poem, but I’d love to give her a hug and much deserved praise for her eloquently true words. I’ve been the solider and the wife in this poem and now, I get to be the mother. As you’re reading this, I want you to know too, that during the mother’s part, my beautiful, intelligent baby boy looked over at me, even though this is the poem I wasn’t ready to hear come from his mouth. I regret that I only had my cell phone that takes 30 second videos instead of my camera or camcorder. I was bursting with pride as my son’s deep voice came over the microphone, as I watched him look into the audience as he read and even though my heart will be breaking the day he leaves to go to basic training, I’ll be bursting with pride that my son chose to become a soldier, chose to “have your back.”

Got Your Back
By Autumn Parker

I am a small and precious child,
My daddy’s been sent to fight
The only place I will see his face,
Is in my dreams at night

He will be gone too many days,
For my young mind to keep track,
I may be sad, but I am proud,
My daddy’s got your back.

I am a caring mother,
My son has gone to war
My mind is filled with worries
That I have never known before

Every day I try to keep
My thoughts from turning black
I may be sad, but I am proud,
My son has got your back.

I am a strong and loving wife,
With a husband soon to go,
There are times I am terrified
In ways most never know

I bite my lip and force a smile
As I watch my husband pack
My heart may break but I am proud
My husband’s got your back.

I am a soldier;
Serving proudly, standing tall.
I fight for freedom, yours and mine,
By answering this call.

I do my job while knowing,
The thanks it sometimes lacks.
Say a prayer that I come home,
It’s me that’s got your back.

I thought when the kids got out of school that I’d have more time to myself. I thought wrong. Instead, I was busier than ever. So, what have I been doing?

• My oldest son graduated from high school with honors. *woot*
• My Guy had a large lipoma removed from his back. It’s noncancerous and we hope it doesn’t come back. He’s on the mend and feeling so much better. It was the size of a softball and mostly inside. I’d post a picture of his back pre-op but then he’d have to kill me.
• My youngest son acquired pneumonia. This is a new ailment for me to deal with. I’m not liking it one bit. He’s on the mend, slow and steady, but how do you keep an 11 year old in the house when he’s extremely active and there are things to do–not to mention it’s warm out there? I’m just thankful they didn’t admit him into the hospital. I’ll forego the sleep and the lack of a life to keep him comfortable, after all, that is my job.
• Two of my very dear friends are rocking the reviews and the best-seller lists with their Carina Press releases. Congrats to Dee and Shannon!
• Oh and another one of my friends sold to Carina Press. I’m waiting impatiently for her to say something on her blog.

How was your June? How about your summer? Oh, and can you believe in ten more days I’m going to be the big 4-0? I can’t. ;)

If you haven’t seen the ending of LOST, this post will contain spoilers, so don’t read further. And Warning, this post is probably going to be really long–haha

I’ve been asked to blog about my thoughts on the television show LOST as a fan and from a writers prospective. Wow is all I thought when I saw that posted on my Facebook.

I’ve been a rabid fan ever since My Guy, Mark forced me to watch it with him. I heard plane crash with monsters and if you know me well enough, not something I go screaming towards—more like away! I’m a romantic comedy, sitcom, drama type girl. Occasionally, I get into paranormal stuff, but for the most part, I’m pretty boring.

However, if the characterization is there, if I immediately care about the people on the show—no matter what it is, I’ll watch. These characters had me at hello. I cared about Jack and Kate and I wanted to know more about them. I was intrigued and got sucked into a show that I was essentially lost in, but dammit, I couldn’t stop watching. It was like crack for the mind. This house stopped what it was doing to tune in. We watched it as a family.

From the beginning, Mark said he thought they were already dead. He was raised Catholic, so he looked at the Island like it was Purgatory. I disagreed with him, but then would wonder if there was some truth to it. The healing powers the island had—a paralyzed man could walk, a woman with cancer was in remission and feeling wonderful. But then people started to die and I argued that I thought purgatory was a place that you waited, not died—or was their deaths a way to hell? We had discussions with the kids about the show. We weren’t obsessed, well, maybe a little. But we had the discussions because each of us would catch something one or more of us didn’t. Its complexity was brilliant, but the characters and their arcs were what kept me tuning in. I wanted to know why a killer (Kate ) would want to help people the way she did. I wanted to know more about Sawyer and why Locke had been in a wheelchair. I rooted for a romance between Jack and Kate and yet loved the triangle of Jack, Kate and Sawyer. I wanted to know about Hurley, Boone, Claire, Charlie, Sayid, Sun and Jin. Alison Kent said it best when she tweeted: “ Is it clear now why the romance gene outsells all others?” # LOST

So, what do I think? I think the show was aptly titled. I think, like Jimmy Kimmel that this was a journey. I think that each and every one of us are stumbling in this world, that we meet people who irrevocably change our lives. I think the plane crashed and the bonds these people created by such a traumatic experience bonded them for life. No matter what you believe in, I think that we do wait for each other or need the people who’ve touched us to help us move on to the next life. We’re lost. I think this was Jack’s initial journey and that he was the last to die once he was sure Kate, Claire and Sawyer were off the island. I think that the reason why Ben didn’t go inside the church is because he didn’t need the people inside to move on—that he was still searching for his redemption. OR perhaps he wasn’t going to Heaven as Mark claims, Ben was going to hell.

My favorite parts? When one touch took them back to the island and they had the montages of scenes of being together and they remembered. I bawled. I needed to see those connections again, especially in light of Sun and Jin dying so tragically together.

I think the writers were creative in that they left a lot of unanswered questions so that each of us could interpret in our own way. For me, this show stretched my imagination and made me think, it also made me fall in love with characters that I hated to say goodbye too, even though I knew they got their happy endings. I’m going to be lost without LOST. :)

(I wrote this two years ago when he turned 16. I’ve been pretty emotional when it comes to him these last few weeks–he just doesn’t know it and I haven’t had time to complete everything I would’ve liked to for this occassion, so I’m cheating, sort of. If you read this before, I apologize. If you haven’t, enjoy! )

Dear Blaize,

On 5/18/1992 I went to see the doctor in hopes of him admitting me. It was time to have you, I just knew it. Instead, he told me I looked miserable and I explained he didn’t know the half of it. He said if I didn’t go into labor on my own, to come back the next morning and they’d break my water and start the process of iducing labor. I waddled home, told your father, packed my bags and waited.

5/19/1992: I’ll spare you all the gory details, but let’s just say that when you were finally ready to make your entrance into the world, I was alone in the room. Of course everyone came back at the same time and was frantic because you wanted out. NOW! You were so tiny at 6lbs. 5oz and a whopping 21 inches long. You were my froggy with your long, bent, skinny legs and tiny belly. I knew the moment I saw how long your hands and feet were that we were going to be in trouble if you ever grew into them. You were absolutely perfect and I was terrified because your life was now in my hands.

But we survived. Jaundice, eye surgery, stitches, illnesses, more stitches, ambulance rides, broken bones, arguments….we made it. Eighteen years of mother and son and all the drama that it implies. I look at you now and I struggle not to see the little guy I dressed in a Fire Chief outfit to bring home from the hosptial.

(more…)

I’ve been in a funk. A bad funk. My oldest son is turning 18 tomorrow and graduating in less than two weeks. Add to that an Uncle who had part of his lung removed due to cancer and his ups and downs, calming my Grandma and informing the rest of the family, along with other job requirements and well, it hasn’t been a great month for me. Hence the lack of blog posts.

But, where there’s a storm, there’s almost always a rainbow. My rainbow is my Aunt Sharon. She’s been the voice of reason in my head. My encouragement and I honestly do not know what I’d do without her because for the first time in a long damned time I’m excited about writing again. Excited about these characters and telling their story. It’s taken her a couple of weeks to drag it out of me, but she did it. Besides, she used to be a First Shirt in the Air Force, and there’s the fear and knowledge in knowing that if I don’t finish this, she’ll kick my ass. She knows where I live.

Seriously.