Okay, then.

Years ago, while I was still teaching college, I looked at outcomes (i.e., my students and how prepared they were–or weren’t–for college-level work), and decided that my kids were absolutely not going to public school.  And then, I did more research in town to figure out where to send them.

My choices were limited: there was the secular public school that cost more per year per kid than university tuition at a bigger school than where I taught, there was the Catholic school (great academics), the Lutheran school (K-8 only), and another, smaller religious school.

I went with the smaller religious school that was a mile or so from my workplace.  They offered sibling discounts to non-Catholics, and were just about as strong academically.

They also did preschool.  Which turned out to be a necessity, since my other half was doing an accounting degree, and I had to switch from teaching online to a traditional classroom, and the schedules weren’t perfect.

So, time has passed, and I no longer have the job with the university.  The kids still go to that religious school.  I can’t do a whole lot with the fundraisers (my energy levels won’t permit it), but I do keep the kids’ classrooms (and the library) supplied with things like Clorox wipes, wet wipes, paper towels, and other things I buy at Sam’s Club.

So, a month or so ago, when I brought in Clorox wipes for the librarian (she doesn’t get to add things to the school supplies list, and it was still in flu season), she asked if I ever did editing.  Copy editing.  Because she was finishing up her dissertation.

Thursday, she sent me a draft, and her advisor’s advice.

I have an editing job.

Treading water

I’ve not had energy for much for the past month.  The electrical work is done, but the roof repair guy never got back to us with a quote.  I don’t know if it was a SNAFU with the email contact, or what, but the roof repairs still need done.  Adding a ball (repairs) into the things I’ve already had trouble juggling has not helped.

In the meantime, I have been writing when and as I can–a lot of the time, that’s while I’m in the car, waiting on the kids, and in long hand in a draft book.  And editing.  And revising.  And beta-reading and editing for friends.

Last week, I ordered a fountain pen I’d been really wanting for a while.  It’s a limited edition color of a favorite model of pen, and it came in at my favorite online store…and was gone again.  And I almost cried.  Well, that store sent me a coupon for my birthday.  I had an idea of what I wanted, and I went to go make the order.  And, on a whim, I checked to see if they had the LE pen I really wanted…and it was, indeed, back in stock.  So, I sprang on it like a leopard on a gazelle.  And waited.  And it came last Saturday.

I cleaned it up,* inked it up, and took it with me when we went to visit my in-laws on Sunday.  And, since various elements of my chronic illness were acting up, I stayed in one spot while everyone was outside playing/watching the kids play.  And I pulled the pen and a notebook out and started writing to see what was going to come out.

Clearly, once I finish the projects I’m currently working on (Gods and Monsters, Having a Pint, Schrodinger Paradox), I’ll be writing the kids’ book where the main character is a ferret.  Because that’s what spilled out of my new pen.  All of the first chapter, and part of the second, are first draft finished.



*Side note: always clean any fountain pen before you try inking and writing with it.  If you ink a brand new fountain pen without cleaning it first, you will, more than likely, have ink flow/writing problems, including hard starts, skipping, and a whole host of other things that could go wrong.  And it’s not the pen’s fault, but the owner’s–many pens are shipped, new, with lubricants and dust and other debris from manufacture in the feed and nib.  Cleaning removes that, and lets the pen’s performance be what it was supposed to be from the get-go.