Cowboy is the one who is athletic, the one with all the musical talent, the one who can fix anything, the list is endllllesssss.

And I, well, I can write. At least that’s what I tell myself. Even if it’s delusional, it’s a world that I’m willing to live in: the world where Melinda is a writer, even if she is mediocre at everything else.

So, today I logged some volunteer time at my kid’s school. I listened to my daughter give a swoony report about Mark Twain. (Am I the only one who feels swoony about him? Even though he died 100 years ago this year? I really want to meet him someday. Ever since my English teacher told me that I had a natural ability for public speaking and compared me to Mark Twain. I don’t even know what that means, if anything, but I’ve held on that scrap, I tell you. So, maybe I can write and speak and that’s part of my happy delusion, also.)

So, I stood in the hall waiting for my son and I happened to see a cute little display on the wall. There were flesh colored pieces of paper that the kids had wrinkled up and drawn self-portraits of what they would like if they were 100 years old. Then they wrote about it. Here is what my genius and humorous and witty and charming son said: (While I’m taking credit here, I may as well go all the way.)

“If I was 100″
by John Morley
If i was 100 I would have tons of wrinkles.
I would sit in a chair for years, I mean seriously.
I’d fall asleep in that chair.
I would love that chair.
I’d own a horse, cat, dog, and a cow.
I would die in that chair if i had to.
The end.

I did have to fix his spelling–at his request, even though I could probably have spelled wrinkles in first grade, he did pretty well for a first grader. He spelled “seriously” right. So, I’ll give him that much. He also excels in math and I can take NO credit for that. I, also, don’t take credit for the fact that he would like to own a cow. I have NO desire for livestock. He must get that from his grandpa.

But his writing, well, it’s rather genius.
If I do say so myself.

You all welcome here. And now that that is clear, I will continue with my blog post.

Can you guess where I am right now?

Pretending to be all studentish and scholarly at Brigham Young University. Sitting in the Wilkinson Student Center on campus in Provo, Utah.
By my lonesome.
But with a purpose.
I AM a student here after all.
Even if I’m old enough to practically be a MOTHER to these little college people. (Not quite, but amazingly close.)

So, I do actually have a class here on campus. (But, I think I’ve outgrown the AWE I feel toward universities and I just want to finish my degree. Here. I. Sit.)

My writing class starts in 62 minutes. Okay maybe more because Brandon Sanderson is often late. Tardiness is so easy to forgive when someone exudes awesomeness. Thus, we readily forgive him.

So, I am (was) writing. But then I just had this urge. An itch to scratch, if you will.
I had to google myself to see what happened.
It’s not the first time. Don’t pretend to be shocked. Shocked is what I would be if you HADN’T ever googled yourself before. Ever.
Please join me in my loserishness if you haven’t already. I want to know what the world wide web thinks of me.

Let see I googled me and I found out that: I blog. I facebook. I twitter. All of this you likely know.
On page TWO my essay that I published came up.
And then google linked me to comments that I had made on otherpeople’sblogs. Yes, I’m a blog stalker. And I need intervention. But don’t bother unless you are a professional. Yes. It’s that bad.

And I’ve decided that EVERYTHING I say anywhere on the internet is there for the ENTIRE WORLD TO SEE.

And I knew this. Sorta. I mean, duh. WORLD WIDE WEB. Hello. That says it all.

It makes me feel small and strangely powerful at the same time.

Now if I just had anything to say.
Besides.
Hello.

Feb. 15, 2010
I woke this morning to rain. I love rain in February. If I had my way, it would rain in the valleys and snow in the mountains all winter long. The obvious exception would be Christmas. I love snow on Christmas. On the other days of winter, we could just go and visit snow on the mountains. Like an old friend. And if it was a cold and discompassionate old friend–like snow often is, we could just stay home and talk bad about snow and NEVER go and visit. I would be okay with that.

I also woke this morning to my youngest tunneling through the covers. He had me put my knees up to make an obstacle for him to crawl under. He even got a flashlight so that he could pretend to splunk.

This morning was pretty much perfect.

I recommend his books to you, too. He is a fantastic author and mentor. He has already helped my book improve immensely. (I love alliteration.)

So, yeah life.

Winter is flying by for me. I haven’t posted here in over a month now. I think it’s because I’ve been writing (read: pouring my heart out onto the page) so intently that when I sit down to blog, I have nothing to say. Total. Blank. This is a good thing. My book is getting stronger. (I would high five myself here, but that would be really weird and people would think I was singing along to YMCA on my ipod or something.)

I have a critique group made up of four other members of Brandon’s class. They are all great writers and I enjoy reading their stuff. We were assigned together and as a class requirement must post 2,000 words each week and then read each others by Thursday when we meet for class. After Brandon gives us a lecture (read: organized tangent), we divide into our groups and critique. Brandon rotates groups once a week, so he reads my stuff every four weeks. Brandon=Amazing.

So, critiquing.

This is scary. I’ve kept my book under wraps. Not that it’s so great that it’s a secret and I’m afraid of someone stealing it, but because I wanted it to be mine before it belonged to anyone else. And guess what? I love it. The story is mine. I know where it is going and know where it has been and it’s so fun to share and have people (not just me) enjoy it. To have them care about my characters and analyze them like they are real people. Just like I do. That is pure happiness. Of course my story has flaws and they are pointed out. I’m so glad for that, too. Because now I can make it better, stronger.

So, friends.

This week was LTUE (Life, the Universe, and Everything) at BYU. A sci fi/fantasy convention. I’m still not much of a geek. But, I’m slowly converting. I met up with my friends. We laughed until we cried. We ate coconut cream cake. We bought chocolate by the pound. We talked writing. We talked life. I love my writer friends. Dearly.

Now I must go and write. I have the Head Cold from H*ll. (You can quote me on that.) But I must find a way to write my next submission for class. Writers don’t have the luxury of writer’s block or head colds to stop their writing. Just ask Brandon.

The difference?

I’m not quite sure. Probably a combo of things.

1- My husband bought me new light bulbs. Daylight ones. And he put them in my lamp beside my bed and in my bathroom. And I think it is making a HUGE difference in how I feel. Those winter blahs are not getting me down. To call it a miracle is to minimize it, I think. I heart my husband. He is the best.

2- I’ve been writing and I’m back into my story after the tragic loss of my entire draft of revisions. But, I’m back in the saddle again. And I’m loving my story. Loving my characters. And loving the craft. I am DRIVEN to finish it so that I can send it out and eventually share it all with you….wouldn’t that be fun? I can hardly stand it!

3-I’m thrilled because by luck of the draw I was added to Brandon Sanderson’s writing class at BYU. He is a brilliant author and I needed the credit to graduate and (not by chance mind you) was my name drawn. (Six out of 40+ people were drawn.) It was an answer to prayers.

4-I’m heading out to a writer’s retreat. Not going far, but far enough. Five+ days of peace and quiet and writing. And a few writer friends and food. There will be food. And me and my characters. I. Can’t. Wait.

5-I’m running again. I took a tiny break. Stomach flu and Christmas, you know. Half the time I just run on the treadmill because of the lousy air quality here in the winter. Now I hope for snow so that I can run in clean air. I thought I’d never hope for snow.

Well, that’s about it. I must go and run five miles and then clean my house. It’s going to be a busy, busy day.

How is your January coming?