Again, I didn't do a 'before'  picture, but here is a little more progress:  The coat closet.
Yeah, you can't tell how bad this was except by the sagging middle of the top shelf.  It's still sagging because of the weight of so much there for so long.  But I can tell a difference. And I'm feeling good.  The top shelf was packed with 'stuff', the coats were crammed in so tight you had to fight to get one out. The floor beneath the coats used to be lined with things. Now there are still more coats here than the two of us will probably wear in the next three years, but it's much better.  All that is on the floor is Lucy's dog food, the leaf to the table in the family room and a folding chair.  I've put two boxes in the car of things to take to Salvation Army or Goodwill, taken a whole lot out in the trash, and I'm making progress.

This is the project that got me started before I decided to do this project:  
It's the laundry closet. I decided to start here and work myself around the house, one closet, one room at a time. (It felt more manageable that way and this was a small project that let me feel like I was making progress right away.
If you don't think it is progress, you should have seen the top shelf before I cleaned, tossed and organized it. (The top of the washer and dryer were a bit (understatement) tacky, too. Now everything is in boxes that are easy to get down and get access to. I know where and what everything is.  (FYI--and this is my first 'tip': the plastic bag hanging over the dryer is my dryer-ate-one-of-the socks bag.  I stick singles that I find while I'm folding in the bag and once every month or so, I go through and match them up.  Been doing that for several years and it has helped eliminate the one sock here and one sock there, floating around, lonely, in our drawers.  I'm quite pleased with myself over that one!)
You would appreciate this more if I'd taken a before picture.

This is going to be the most embarrassing thing I've ever done...and worse, I'm doing it to myself.  On purpose.
Why? Because I've been promising myself for at least 5 years that I would get through, get rid, get organized, get out of this mess I've created, mostly by just living.  And now, my problem is reaching crisis level.  No, I am not a hoarder; but my son-in-law says that I am borderline.  And that is going to be the last time I use the 'H' word.  (Maybe.)
The crisis is: I'm not getting any younger; things that I didn't know could creak, creak when I get up in the morning.  My stamina is not what it used to be. I'm in great shape, compared to some that I know, but after a major surgery last year, Dan having cataract surgery a month ago and again, on the other eye next week,  my parents death in the last couple of years--and they were great examples to me of how to do things right, my brother-in-law's near death experience this week, (Thank God, he's doing better but he's still in serious condition.) I have come to the realization that I don't have forever.  (Yes, I've known for years that I'm mortal. Knowing and accepting that as a for-sure-it-is-coming-fact-of-life are two different things.)  So it is time to clean up my mess before I can no longer do it myself.
Here's an example of my problem: 
Notice the name of these books? Yeah, (as anyone who knows me will know) when Borders had their final sale a month or so ago, I had to go and...I HAD to buy books while they were CHEAP and these three pertain to this BIG PROBLEM I've been contemplating for a while.  So, of course, I HAD to buy them. When would I ever get a chance like THAT again, at THAT price?  So they have joined a lot of the other books I have, sitting on the edge of one of my bookcases,  cluttering up my life.   (Hopefully, when I get around to reading them, they'll help.)
Here's another example of my problem:
You probably can't tell much about this photo because it is a group of baskets, sitting in a box, with something on top of them. (I think it's a file but don't know for sure without going to check. Not that important right this minute.) Nothing too weird about that, right? Except the point of buying these baskets was to help organize my office the last time I decided I had to do something.  And now, they are just part of the clutter--as you will see when I finally have the courage to post a "before" picture of my office.  (Or as you may be able to tell if you study the background of this photo too closely.  Don't do it.  I warn you!)  But posting a picture of that BIG PICTURE nightmare is not going to happen until I'm ready to tackle that project with enough time to make progress.  I'm just not ready for that embarrassment now.  But soon. I'm gearing up!
So here is my new New Year's Resolution, a few months early, and pretty much, the same one I made in 2005, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10 and 11.  (Time passes quickly, doesn't it.  That's one MORE problem.) But this time, I'm going to embarrass myself totally if I don't actually get after the project and just do it.  I'm going to clean up this mess I've made of my little corner of the world. I'm doing it publicly this time so I'll have someone, besides my-lily-livered, can-always-find-some-excuse, or something-more-'important'-to-do-self to answer to.
And that is where you come in, dear reader. What I need from you is encouragement, and jeers if I don't make progress, cheers when I do. (It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you also admitted that YOU have a little bit of clutter you don't want to leave for your kids to plow through.) Wanna join our project with a downsizing, clean-up, I CANNOT DO THIS TO MY KIDS project of your own?  Let me know.
Looking forward to hearing from you...

Just experimenting

Let's try this out and see what happens

Wow! I'm a Special Guest

Visit me at Romancing the Blog. You'll find my post on the announced demise of Harlequin Romances.

Since I'm into sharing my various theories lately, I'll share one more. Whatever publishers do to attract twenty something readers to romances--something they've seemed obsessed with for the last decade--they will never completely succeed.

Why? Because we all read to meet certain basic emotional needs. And the needs that are met by reading romances will never be as fulfilling and exciting as what late teens and twenty somethings are going through in their own lives. They are busy pair-bonding and falling in love themselves. They don't need to read about it during that estatic time in their lives.

We start to get fascinated by the thought of falling in love around puberty.

You'll notice the line in my Romancing the Blog contribution:

Unless ‘traditional’ romance survives, moms and grandmas aren’t going share with—and catch--young readers who will come back and enjoy a wider range of romances when they are more mature.

That's the best time in the world to capture young readers, when they are dreaming about Mr. Right and romantic weddings and stealing a first kiss. For me anyway, everything at that age was romantic.

By fifteen or sixteen, we quit having time to read. We're too busy 'going out' and talking on the phone and falling in love with every guy we see who presents possibilities. (We especially love the 'bad boys' we've fallen in love with reading romances.)

Then, the majority of us establish longer term relationships. And we're in our twenties. We're starting to set up housekeeping, getting married, having kids, getting a life.

Then bamm! mid-twenties to early thirties, depending on who we are and our own personal chronology, the 'romance' has worn off. (No, I'm not saying that the love has died, just that euphoric-falling-in-love-wonderful-magical excitement that settles into comfort and companionship and security.) And we're ready for a break from reality again. We're ready to escape for a couple of hours after the kids have gone to bed and we crave the fantasy and bliss of having a wonderful romance in our lives again. And we're willing to get it where we can, in a wide array of stories.

And that's why publishers are wasting their time trying to attract twenty somethings. That's why they should be concentrating on capturing the hearts of pre-teen and early teens...with books their moms and grandmas will let them read. With stories that let them dream and imagine their future. With stories that show how a healthy relationship works and doesn't work.

Don't get me wrong. The twenty somthings all don't get away. You can go to any college dorm in the nation and find a stack of romances being passed around. But they aren't being read by the ones who are living it. They're being read by the ones still anxiously awaiting it.

Kisses only???

I read Maili Ryan's Romancing the blog contribution yesterday with fascination. And the comments were downright insulting to those of us who don't especially love hawt (guess we can't spell it 'hot' any more) sex scenes in our romances.

I've had a theory about romance readers for a long time now. I think the people who are fortunate enough to have very good sex lives themselves aren't interested in reading 'hawt.' I'm one of the lucky ones. I have plenty and what I have is great. I rarely run across a sex scene that I don't skip because my reality is better! Occasionally, the love scenes (notice the change of adverb) are so much a part of the development of the characters and the story, that I do read them.

When I first started studying the romance market, I noticed that the people reading (and writing) the hotter stuff were, for the most part, people who weren't in a steady relationships. I drew an obvious conclusion. One of my critique partners--a fairly young widow--confirmed it for me. She LOVED the sexier reads. That, of course, was also what she wrote. She totally disagreed with my theory...until she remarried. About a year later, she took me aside and told me, I was right. She'd also started skipping the sex scenes and in fact, had quit choosing the books she bought with that in mind. That was all I needed to decide my theory wasn't just a theory. It was fact.

I do know that market trends have an impact both on what readers buy and writers write. (You can't sell a book with any sex behind closed doors if the editor who's interested tells you to revise that scene and add two more. You can't buy books without the scenes that some of us skip if that is all that's on the shelf.) But the trend toward more and more and more also explains the huge upswing in inspirational romances and the even more intriguing trend toward more realistic, 'edgy' inspirationals. Please, bring it on! (http://www.romancingtheblog.com/blog/index.php?p=296)

For those of you who may want to hollar at me because you read the sexy stuff AND have a great sex life, I'll point out that maybe your sex life is good because what you read spices things up.

In my ideal world, I'd find lots of wonderful books where the mental and emotional relationship was front and center and as intense as it could get. And the sex would stay behind closed doors because my imagination can fill in the blanks if I want to go there. My reality is much, much better than most writers can write it. And I DO know what happens after that long and luscious kiss!

Ten days later

The RWA conference is over for another year. And after--I'd have to go through lots of stuff to figure out how many RWA conferences I've actually been to--at least 12 of the annual events, I'm amazed to find that, for once, I didn't come home inspired and rarin' to write.

Ever since I got home, I've been trying to figure out why it didn't do it's usual magic. I went to some workshops. I saw most of the people I wanted to see. (I didn't get a chance to really 'talk' to many of the ones I would have liked to actually spend a bit of time with.) I met some new ones. Debbie Macomber and Susan Elizabeth Phillips were spectacular. Randall Wallace was ten times better than I expected him to be.

My presentation for the Scriptscene chapter was extremely well received. I met some wonderful writers involved with that chapter. (In fact, I joined because they are such a great group and I loved their optimistic, upbeat approach.)

Amazingly, Reno turned out to be a good location for the conference. I didn't hear any of the usual gripes about the hotel. Most of the conference food was actually good rather than just edible.

So why didn't RWA do its usual magic for me? Hmmmm? (I know there are those who would suggest that my mood should be attributed to the 'downer' at the end--the controversy surrounding the RITA awards. But I know it wasn't that. Frankly, imho, if the Prez, the board and Nora weren't slashing it out so publicly, the majority of people who attended would probably say the ceremony was okay, it had it's entertaining moments. It had some wierd ones, too, and most of us would have preferred that it focussed more on RWA history and honoring people who deserved at least a mention and less on a negative history lesson. But, mostly it should have been shorter...)

The annual RWA conference has suddenly, mysteriously become, for me anyway, a 'maybe' rather than an automatic. Atlanta in 2006? I guess we'll see.