The Che Boricuas

2012-01-25T08:50:00.001-07:00

Author Laura Josephsen is hosting a Favorite Character Blogfest, and I'm participating! I didn't have to think much to choose a favorite character, although an ever increasing number of characters populate my mind and to talk me incessantly.

My all-time favorite character is Diego, the love futbol star of my manuscript SOUTHERN CROSS. Diego is Camila's (my main character's) love interest. Since the book is written from her point of view, we don't get to know Diego's thoughts. But I love what others say about him:

Camila:
"Looking like a rock star, surrounded by admirers, he cupped his hands around his mouth
so I could hear him from across the street. “I’ll call you later, Camila!” he said.
   I hope he meant tonight."

"As if he feels my eyes on him, Diego turns around and looks straight at me. He grins that smile I’m sure boys take secret lessons for. The fútbol star replaces the forlorn lost boy."

“'I was getting worried about you,' Diego says. He stands up to take my backpack from
my hands.
   When he kisses my cheek, a thousand replies blare in my mind. The more prominent are:
   Looking great, Titan.
   I missed you and it’s only been fourteen hours since I last saw you.
   Marry me."

Father Hugo, from the orphanage where Diego grew up:
“I always knew he’d
reach far and high. I’m so proud of him. I dare wager that even without his adoptive mom, he would have still risen from his dire circumstances. Diego was born a fighter. "

The kids from the orphanage:
"Several dark-haired little ones run inside the house yelling, “The Titan came to play.
Diego came!”
   “Don’t make them crazy. It’s all I ask,” Father Hugo implores.
   “I’ll do my best,” Diego says and runs to meet his greatest admirers, chasing them with
open arms.
   The kids shriek, ecstatic."

I am a futbol fanatic, and I there are several futbol players I admire tremendously. Diego was loosely based on a couple of kids who lived in my barrio in Argentina, and made it to the "big leagues." They are everyone's heroes. The pride and joy of us all.

I'm looking forward to reading the other participants' entries! Thanks to my friend Julie for the link to this awesome opportunity. For details on how to participate, click on the button!

New Year (2 weeks later, I know!), New Beginnings (because it's never too late)

2012-01-12T08:59:00.002-07:00

New year, new beginnings, a new novel to work on, a new baby in the family. Make that two babies, because added to Rosalia's, my sweet sister-in-law (whom I totally admire and adore), will be my own little baby, my number five. I'll have my own futsal team! We couldn't be happier. And I talk in plural because all six of us are ecstatic, as is the rest of our extended family, which keeps getting bigger and bigger.

I'm excited about 2012 and the challenges it will bring, those that I'm already anticipating and those I'm sure will take me by surprise. Being the stereotypical Sagittarius (spell check suggested "sanatorium." Hmmm, maybe suggesting I should be in one?), I'm the eternal optimistic. Will this be the year I find a great agent to work with? Will the agent be the one who'll find me? Will this be the year I write the "one"? Will I find the courage to apply for the MFA program I've been researching for years and years?

One morning, on the way to the school bus stop, still obscenly early to be awake, the kids and I were talking about goals. El Cangri's goal seemed to be to remain awake long enough to make it to his seat on the bus. But the two older kids were interested in what my goals were. As usual, I got carried away, and by the time the bus arrived, I must have named at least a hundred.

There are so many things I want to do! Luckily, losing weight isn't one of them (can't because of the baby. Come July, I'll be doing Crossfit every day. Or so I say now). But I'll take it one day at the time. For now, one of my main ones is to write a little every day. I'm already doing my morning pages, but I also want to keep up with the blog, make it pretty, meet new people in the blogosphere. I'll start by posting once a week. I know I've said this before, but it's the new year, even though it took me almost two weeks to come to terms with it.

Oh! This year, because I don't waste enough time online ;-), I signed up on pinterest. Today, I found this and pinned in on my board (?). I'm still not fluent in pinterest's lingo. But I thought it was apropos, and I wanted to share.

What are some of your goals for the year?

Source: farewellstranger.com via Rowena on Pinterest

Is it really the end of the year?

2011-12-06T08:56:00.001-07:00

I can't believe it's already December. Being immersed in NaNoWriMo makes me forget all about getting ready for Christmas, our family trip in less than two weeks, Nutcracker, and a million end of the year parties. Every year, on December 1st, I feel like I'm waking up from a dream (or a nightmare) and realize I have to do a million things when all I want to do is sleep. Who can really function with this cold? It was only 14 degrees this morning (-10 in Celsius!).

Come December, I always feel like the year has blown by. The years seem to go faster as I get older too. So, I decided to make a list of 2011 favorite things.

Music has the number one spot. My favorite song, by far, is Latinoamerica, by Calle 13.

Even if you don't understand the lyrics in Spanish, I think the spirit of the song and the beautiful images of the video don't need any translation. It's an Anthem for America, from the North Pole to Antarctica.

My kids' heroes

2011-11-09T09:47:00.000-07:00

Lately my girls have been--how to say this?--obsessed (!) with the movie SOUL SURFER, which tells the real story of professional surfer Bethany Hamilton. I won't spoil the movie if I say it's about her recovering after a shark attack; it's common knowledge (unless you were like me and just found out when the movie came out). But to say it's only about her being attacked would ignore the most important point of the movie: how to go on with life and still fight for our dreams even when it seems impossible. Bethany transcended tragedy and the odds stacked against her, and became a real life heroine through her will to live and overcome, her family's support, and her faith in God.

Bethany was already an amazing person before the accident. After the accident, she became a voice for those who go through traumatizing situations and don't understand why bad things sometimes happen to good people.

I love the movie because the producers and director didn't take out a central piece of information about Bethany: she's a devout, practicing Christian. They show her going to church, right at the beach, still wet after a fun surfing session (wouldn't I love that, especially in this Utah winter weather!), and going to a youth church meeting. She also goes to a humanitarian mission, and she constantly expresses her belief in Jesus-Christ.

Before the accident, her teacher, who by the way is played by Carrie Underwood, shares a scripture from the Bible, Jeremiah 29:11.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

This is the central theme of the movie, in my opinion. God always has a plan for us.

At the end of the movie, when a reporter asks her if she would undo what happened if she could, she shakes her head and says, "Surfing isn't the most important thing in life. Love is. I've had the chance to embrace more people with one arm than I ever could with two."

I never imagined a movie could have such an impact on a four-year old. My Princess Peach quotes the movie, goes to sleep listening to the soundtrack, and when she builds with her connectagons, she creates figurines of surfers, and let's not forget the judges. Yesterday she declared that instead of having a Vivint. birthday party, she wants a surfing party. I had plenty of Vivint things to improvise a birthday party, although, what would I give as party favors? An alarm system? For a surfing party I'll have to be more creative. Especially for a bunch of preschoolers.

Swan Princess is into all things surfing and Hawaiian too. Yesterday, when I picked her up at the bus stop, she declared that she finally knows where she's going to college. Until now she wanted to go to Julliard, but now it's BYU Hawaii :-)

I'm grateful my girls have Bethany Hamilton as her heroine. The best heroines, after all, are the ones in real life, and they don't even need special super powers to do wonders. They only need their powers within.

Who are your heroes? Who are the heroes you borrowed from your children? :-)

To end, here's a video I found:

THIS is why I love it so much

2011-08-17T22:09:00.000-07:00

Today Barcelona added another trophy to their already cluttered collection. I celebrated each goal (Iniesta1, Messi 2) and protested after each foul by the Real Madrid players in the same way as if I were at the stadium. Good thing my husband's out of town :-)

I'm still in a daze for finally seeing Cesc Fabregas wearing the blaugrana jersey of the first team (doesn't he look awesome? He's the first from the right). My happiness turned into outrage when Marcelo tackled Cesc at the end of the game.

The fight that followed the infraction for which a red wasn't enough, and Ozil's and Villa's red cards for punching each other are nothing compared to what when Real Madrid's coach Jose Mourinho did. He attacked the Barcelona assistant coach, Vilanova, and then laughed about it.

I love the goals and celebration, but I hate the violence. Violence in the field creates violence in the stands.

In spite of all of that, my favorite part, and the reason I love futbol so much, is shown at the 1 minute mark of the following video. Gonzalo Higuain, Real Madrid 20, is outraged, and fellow Argentine Javier Mascherano tries to calm him down. Mascherano is Barcelona's 14. The thing that I love the most is that in spite of belonging to rival teams, the Montegue and Capulets of the futbol world, these two guys belong to a team that takes precedence over the team they work at. They're both part of the Argentine National team and they look after one another. A few seconds into the video, I saw Barcelona's Dani Alves comforting fellow Brazilian, the Merengue Kaka. Same thing. They're Brazilians and friends first. The rivalry comes last.

Of course, someone may argue that in both teams that are several Spanish National team players that hate each other, but that's another argument. For the most part, the futbol players in this match avoided aggression and protected their friends, disregarding the jersey they were wearing at the time.

Futbol is passion but it's also a brotherhood. And I love it.

Morning Pages and Conferences

2011-08-16T22:17:00.001-07:00

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I'm doing the 12 week Artist's Way program. One of the first exercises Julia Cameron prescribes is the writing of three pages every morning, before doing anything else. This is supposed to be the place and space to spit out all the self-doubt and fears, so that by the time a writer or artist of any kind is ready to settle to work, the fears and doubts have already been said and can't block the artist's progress anymore.

I don't know if I'm doing them right or not, but to me, they have become a sort of journal. More personal than a journal in fact, because in my official journal, I keep in mind someone (my family) might read it in the future. With the morning pages, I ramble and babble without direction. Once in a while though, I'll put in writing something that has been in my mind for a while, sometimes even without being conscious of it. These sparks of self-discovery are fueling my story. I read somewhere that if you do something for at least 21 days, it becomes a habit. I've been doing the morning pages for longer than that--I'm in week 7--and I really hope they're here to stay. Even if they're only good enough to take all my whining and complaining.

On other news, WriteOnCon, the amazing free writing conference organized by the amazing Elana Johnson and company is taking place right now. Click here for a recap of today. There's plenty of food for thought. Oy! If you're a writer, don't forget to enter the contests and numerous critiques in the forums. Who knows who may find you there?

Back from the Summer and surprise! It's still Summertime!

2011-08-01T16:27:00.000-07:00

I just came back home from El Paso, and I'm so excited to still have one more month before the kids go back to school! No more going away every summer because of Jeff's work! It's been an adventure every year, visiting new places like the real Little House on the Prairie or exploring Washington DC or downtown El Paso. Both are scary and exciting places at the same time and for the same and different reasons, if it makes sense at all. But I'm glad to be home!

Although I kind miss the endless summers that didn't have school/futbol/dance/piano/guitar looming at the end, I also love the routine school brings to our lives, and yes, the quiet and the time to read and write. I guess I'm into long sentences today, and that's okay with me if it is with you. I'm blogging, mainly because I worried people would think I died or something. So Julie, here I am, although the plan was to blog every week. It didn't go as planned, but here I am :-)

I'll upload some pictures later this week. I'm just getting used to being back home and knowing we're not leaving any time soon.

How's your summer been so far? I know Julie has had a ton of adventures and experiences. I want to see some pictures too. And Tiffany? She's been to Europe! Her pictures are amazing! How about the rest of you?

Eternal student

2011-06-29T08:23:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I attended the WIFYR writers' conference. The best part of the conference was the morning workshop with Martine Leavitt, author of Keturah And Lord Death, Tom Finder, and Heck Superhero among other amazing books. I'm still trying to internalize the wealth of knowledge I received during the week, and I plan on posting the things that stood out the most to me. My other favorite thing about the conference is attending the panels where authors and agents talk not only about the industry, but also about the craft. Mary Kole, agent of the Andrea Brown agency, talking about online presence, said, "If you have a blog, update it often. If you don't post for a year, people are going to wonder if you're alive.
I laughed and nodded my head because I do just that: I go months before posting sometimes. My excuse is that if I blog, I take my time away from my writing. But if I don't, I miss out on the interaction with my "online friends."
I don't promise to update every day, but I will do it more often than I have done before.
On the workshop, Martine recommended the Artist's Way, a book many others have recommended before, so I ordered it and brought it to El Paso with me, along with a whole lot of books about writing. This morning, I woke up early and wrote my Three Morning Pages, an exercise Julia Cameron recommends for artists to unblock. I wrote three pages of rambling, and I don't know if it was that, or the exercise shake I just took, but I'm full of energy and desire to write. And I haven't felt this way for a long time.
What are you doing this summer? Attending conferences? Taking a break from creating? I'd love to know.

New Contest and my first page

2011-05-29T20:07:00.001-07:00

Shelly Waters is holding an amazing contest. Again. This time we have to post the first page of our book for an opportunity to have ten pages critiqued by Judith Engracia of Liza Dawson and Associates!

I know I've had this page, chapter and book critiqued to death. But several extra eyes won't hurt! Thanks for taking the time to read my entry. I'll hop blogs to leave my critique too.

Title: SOUTHERN CROSS
Genre: YA Literary Fiction
Word Count: 87,000 words

Lies have short legs. I’ve known this ominous proverb since before I could speak.
   Who among my ancestors brought the saying across the Atlantic all the way to Argentina?
   My Russian great-grandmother embroidered it on a pillow after her first boyfriend broke her heart. My Palestinian grandfather whispered it to me every time my mom found his stash of wine bottles hidden in the unlikeliest places, like underneath my bed. My Andalusian grandmother repeated it like a mantra, lost in her old woman insanity, before her memories and regrets called her to the next life.
   Perhaps the saying doesn’t belong to any language, and sprouted from this land the early explorers thought encrusted with silver, and my immigrant family adopted the expression like its own.
   In spite of seventeen years of practice, my lies’ legs haven’t grown stronger or faster. I know the consequences of lying to my father. A reflex slap that will leave my face burning for hours. A session of yelling and blaming his worries on a daughter who’s not as beautiful as her mother nor as smart as he is. A litany of all the reasons he gave my mom for not having any more children after Pablo—perfect, beautiful Pablo—was born.
   With all these thoughts clamoring in my head, I still went to the stadium to watch my brother play in the Scoundrels’ opening match of the season. My brother and that other boy whom the press calls the Titan because on the pitch, he’s more than a god. Diego Ferrari.

Perfection

2011-05-29T19:40:00.000-07:00

I'm not perfect doing my Insanity workout. But I do it every day, and I enjoy it. I promise I do. And I do pretty well on my diet, except on Sundays or when my mom cooks and makes the most delicious food in the world.

Today I can't blame my mom. It's May 29th, and in Argentina ("and now here in Utah," Chubbers said) we have the tradition of making gnocchi (potato dumplings) and putting a one dollar bill underneath each plate. Every January I resolve to follow this tradition, and each 29th goes by and I forget all about it. It's May, but it's still a month closer to 2011 than to 2012. I'm already doing better than ever.

As soon as my daughters saw me don my apron, they ran to put theirs on.
Making gnocchi is dirty business: floured counter tops el Cagri blew on every time he walked past, sticky hands, dogs underfoot hoping to catch a fallen ball of dough. But the girls' faces as they were helping roll the balls and make the little shells was priceless. I don't have a lot of memories of my grandmother Elena. She wasn't the grandmotherly kind. But I remember going to her house on Sundays, and looking at her hands transform a glob of potato, eggs and flour into a delicacy. I never knew how she could knead so fast. I guess that after seven kids (six of whom were boys), she learned to work fast.

I'm not sure my gnocchi turned out as Abuela Elena's, but they were delicious. I see something of Abuela in Chubbers and Swan. Maybe Perfection skipped a generation.

And last but not least, I can't talk of perfection and not mention Lio Messi's goal yesterday against Manchester United for the Europe Champion League's Final. He's personified perfection, the god of futbol. Maybe in the future, someone will write a biography of the best futbol player that has ever existed--him--and I'll be shocked to find out crazy things about him. Maybe not. For now, he's perfect, the reason futbol even exists. Take a look at his work of art. It makes me cry.

The Flaws in my favorites

2011-05-23T09:12:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I read a very popular YA Contemporary author for the first time. I write in the same genre, and I was curious to learn how her books became such favorites. So with pen in hand (I always take notes on my books; that's why I like to buy my own), I dove into the story.

It took me a while to get into it. But before I realized what time it was, or what page number I was in and still no major Plot Turning Point, I was already in love with the characters, and I really wanted them to succeed and achieve their goals, AKA, each other.

And when I finished the book, the characters stayed with me, and I was mad at myself for finishing the book so fast. Now, I want to get this author's other books, and see if they make a cameo appearance in another story (I read they do! And I'm so excited to see them again even if it's not in their stories).

My favorite author is Carlos Ruiz Zafon. His book aren't structurally perfect. There's some telling, some repetition, but I love his characters; I think about them all the time.

In preparation for the WIFYR conference, I also read Keturah And Lord Death. Again. It's the perfect book. I didn't find a single thing that could even be questionable. I love the dialog, the characters, the subtle descriptions that make my mind take flights and fill in the blanks. The beautiful, lyrical language. I love Lord Death.

That's why I love to read. To lose myself into someone else's world for a few hours and when I'm finished, love or hate those characters that are now a part of me.

I'm working on my second draft of HEAR YE MORTALS, my Gothic YA with a boy main character, and I'm having a hard time with it. There's so many rules to follow, my inner editor is so loud that my creative side of me has been a little muffled lately. So this week, I plan on letting myself go, let these characters take life again, live outside of the charts and outlines. Maybe some day another person will love them (or hate them) as much as I love them. Because I love these people that speak in my mind, even the bad guy, because I know his motivations and where he comes from.

Do you love any stories even though you find flaws in them? Which ones?

LDStorymakers 2011 and my winner first chapter

2011-05-12T07:37:00.000-07:00

Last week I had the opportunity to attend the LDStorymakers 2011 writers' conference. If you attend one conference a year, this is the one you should choose. The tuition was very affordable, with options for people who could only attend one day or all three.

I have a wonderful critique group that I treasure. My partners are all incredibly talented, supportive, and knowledgeable. They're usually the ones who read the earlier drafts of my books, and I trust them to offer helpful but kind criticism. Sometimes it's also very helpful to have people whom you don't know and don't know you read your work too. During bootcamp and the Publication Primer classes, all my companions offered invaluable advice, and even if in a couple of instances I didn't agree with something right away, as the days went by, I recalled their words and read their comments and realized that they might be right! Or I saw my chapter from another perspective. That, is gold for the writers' mind.

Due to some scheduling conflicts, I wasn't able to attend Larry Brooks' class(yes, the guy who writes storyfix.com, the best writers' reference blog out there, in my opinion), but he gave the keynote address. Larry is a pragmatic kind of guy but an advocate for being a prepared writer, or a writer with a plan, even if it's only just in your mind. I loved that he said we all have the tools to succeed as writers, we just need to learn the craft.

I also had the chance to pitch agent Becca Stumpf, from the Prospect Agency. I wasn't dying of anxiety because right before my pitch appointment, I attended a class by her, and she's a lovely person. She was very enthusiastic about my project, and made the ten minutes pass by like a breeze.

On Saturday during lunch, the first chapter contest winners were announced. I really didn't have a lot of hope. But I'm a Saggitarius, I can't help being optimistic :-) so every time I thought about the announcement, I had butterflies in my stomach.

They started by announcing fifth place. There were so many entries for YA Fiction. My name wasn't in fifth, fourth, third, and then for the second place, they announced A BLIND EYE, from none other than my dear friend Julie Daines! I was so happy I teared up. Last year she won first place. So when they announced her name, I told her, "You're the queen of first chapters."
And then, I saw my title on the screen, SOUTHERN CROSS, and my name right beneath it. They announced my chapter as the winner. Let me tell you, I totally knew what Harry Potter was feeling on the way to professor Dumbledore when his name came out of the Globet of Fire!

I don't remember how I made it all the way to the podium. My friend Julie gave me a hug, and I cried a little. In fact, when I told my brother later on the phone, the first thing he asked was "Did you cry?"

The best part of all was coming home and finding this from my kids:

And later my friend Julie and her husband brought me more ballons:

And I promise I've been trying not to stare at this certificate all week (I don't know how to turn the pic on this program!)

Most of all, I have hope again for this story. I only queried a few agents, but without any good response. This week, I re-wrote my query letter and I'm working on a few more revisions before I send SOUTHERN CROSS out into the world. If you're interested in reading my first chapter, it's posted on the LDStorymakers site for a month. Click here. Look for Youth Fiction (all other genres besides Fantasy) and you'll see my name, Yamile Mendez. It's still there, so I guess it's true I won :-)

Because I loved Richard Bach's books when I was little.

2011-05-04T17:46:00.000-07:00

I remember one day, bored at my aunt's house. My two older cousins were probably out with girlfriends, and the little ones were taking naps. A small, wobbly bookshelf full of books called me into the semi-darkness of the living room--a welcome invitation in a hot summer day.

And there, wedged between two fat books I can't remember was Richard's Bach Messiah's Handbook: Reminders for the Advanced Soul. I think I was in fifth grade, because my next memory is of reading passages of it to my desk partner, a girl named Florencia who smiled like an angel. I read her passages of the book, so excited to share the gems that made my heart burn with the discovery of so many wonderful possibilities. That we can do whatever we set our minds to, that we have no idea of our potential, that I could materialize anything I wanted into my life.

Over the years, I've met a lot of people who read Richard's books. Some of them are still great friends of mine. One of the things he mentioned in one of his books--because after Messiah, I devoured them all--was the concept of parallel universes, of what you could tell your younger self if you could.

Last night, for the first time in a long time, I thought of this concept.

During family dinner the kids were asking me about all the pets I had in my life. I don't know why, but I told them about Pamela, a tiny dachshund that my father gave me when I was seven. She was a pest. I see it now that I'm a mother. But back then, I couldn't understand why my mom, tired of cleaning after the dog, gave her away.

When I finished telling the story, I realized my Chubbers was gone. I found her crying in her room. When she saw me, she ran to me and hugged me so, so tight. "I'm so sorry about your dog, mami," she said between hiccups.

Maybe in a parallel universe, a seven year-old Yamile is crying her heart out over her little dog. I hope she can feel the chubby arms around her neck, and the wet kiss on the cheek trying to console her.

Twitter pitch contest--Updated

2011-04-01T21:47:00.001-07:00

Taffy, my fellow Shark and Pebbles member, entered the Show Me the Voice contest and won an agent critique of her manuscript. Since the fates are favoring one of my crit partners, I thought, "Maybe the luck will follow me next time!"
When I saw the amazing contest Shelly Waters is holding in celebration of reaching 100 followers on her blog and 500 on twitter, I decided to enter too. The grand prize is a full manuscript request by no other than Suzie Townsend of Fine Print Literary Management.

Shelley will also select winners for a query critique, which would also be an awesome prize!

The task seems very simple. It consists of writing a twitter pitch of your book. That's a 140 character pitch.
Here's mine for HEAR YE MORTALS, my Young Adult contemporary:

Sebastian, an illegal American in Argentina, finds a way back to the USA that has no room for his cousin, gypsy troupe or senile grandma.

That's 137 characters. Including the period. What do you guys think?

Thank you all for your input! My brain is almost fried, but I came up with a hopefully better entry:

Seba finds way back to his old life in USA. If only his young cousin and senile Nona had visas and Death hadn’t chosen him as next sacrifice.

Thanks for all your help!

Mothering, my dear friend

2011-03-13T00:37:00.001-07:00

Mothering, very much like writing, is a lonely affair. Especially during the first few months as a new mom. When my Gorgeous Boy was born, Jeff and I didn't have the support of our parents nearby. We lived far from our family and from our friends who were also having babies at the same time as us.

I wish that during those hard months I had the companionship of Mothering Magazine, the only parenting magazine I've paid a subscription for. But I didn't discover it until my third child, El Cangri, was six months and I didn't know how to help my baby, who suffered chronic ear infections and who could cry for hours and hours, and who had a diaper rash that nothing could cure.

We were at a chiropractor's office when I came across a free copy of the magazine. I took it home and devoured it. Not only did I love the articles, but the readers' letters and the ads. Oh the ads! Natural toys and baby slings, cloth diapers and homeopathic remedies.

When I found Mothering, I found a friend, and behind it, a community of other moms, like me, who wanted to try alternative parenting styles.

When I didn't know what else to try for my son who could throw titanic tantrums or when I was considering homeschooling, I went to the Mothering Forum Boards and found a lot of advise, which even when it didn't apply to me, I felt I had support, people who understood what I was going through.

A couple of weeks ago, I heard the terrible news. Mothering is no more. The company, struck by the economic crisis, like hundreds if not thousand other businesses, couldn't keep afloat. Now, they're only a web base company.

The forums remain, but I'll miss my bi-monthly copy of the magazine. I have a stack of past issues that I'll save like gold for the future, for when I need to read an inspiring article or find nutritious recipes. Even if no more babies will come to our family--we have four after all!-- I'm sure a friend, or my daughters, in many, many years, will find the same joy I did at finding like-minded mothers reflected on the magazine.

Thank you, Mothering Magazine, for being my mentor and help me be a better mother for my kids. I'll miss you so much!

The Most Beautiful Bookstore in the World

2011-02-24T23:04:00.000-07:00

Last December, I traveled to Argentina, for only the second time in fourteen years. The first time, I traveled with my Cangri who was barely one year old, and I was eight weeks pregnant. It was April, the time between Summer and Fall (in the Southern Hemisphere). I was there for two weeks--one week was scorching Summer, the next freezing Winter. To say it was stressing and hard to go back and see everything as an adult is an understatement.

This second trip, I resolved to enjoy everything. The whole family traveled together--all six of us plus my parents. It was Summer! Christmas. What else could I ask for?

Books!

I found books, of course. And while in Buenos Aires, I fulfilled a lifelong dream of visiting El Ateneo, only one of the most beautiful bookstores in the world. Years ago, a theater operated there and now it functions as a haven of culture.

My husband likes books okay. When we walked into El Ateneo, he looked at me and asked, "How long are we staying here?"
I didn't want to scare him, so I said, "An hour?" Meaning three or four.
He just nodded. "I ask because this is the coolest place I've ever seen."
And my heart flooded with love. For him and the millions of books around me.
Here are some pictures:

Unassuming on the outside

Three stories of books, music, film, art inside

Me and a part of my stack of books

My two middle babies

Frescoes on the ceiling

Spanish versions of The Dark Divine and Hush, Hush. I felt I had ran into friends

Another part of the stack

Heaven!

Balconies where people can go and read and live. I would have if I could...

And more books

Sharing the Love

2011-02-14T06:43:00.000-07:00

Last week I joined a few other bloggers in participating of a virtual Secret Valentine blogfest. I loved the concept, and when I found out whose Secret Valentine I am, I was even more excited: Kristin Miller, one of the brilliant minds behind the idea.

I don't know Kristin in person, but just reading her blogs (yes, she has multiple blogs) gave me a hint of who she is, and made me wish I knew how to design a beautiful blog--or hire someone to do it for me--, and write such insightful/useful blog posts.

Without being a stalker, I found a lot of interesting things about her just from her blog:

She's such a romantic. I mean, her favorite fictional couple are Anne (yes, from the Green Gables) and Gilbert.
She has excellent taste: among her favorite movies are The Borne Trilogy and she likes the Fiennes brothers.
She loves to travel. Such a free spirit.
She's brave. She travels by herself, and likes meeting new people in her travels. I wish more like that. I have a hard time on Sundays if my friends are not at Church.
She's crafty. Not only does she post wonderful ideas for crafts, like a wintery rose wreath or a pendant with charms made out of book pages, but she also links to the tutorial. She's generous and thoughtful too.
She writes wonderful book reviews. Even though her comments of YUMMY: THE LAST DAYS OF A SOUTHSIDE SHORTY by G. Neri, ill by Randy DuBurke are brief, they sparked my interest in it right away. It's already on my TBR ever-growing mountain (pile doesn't really fit anymore).
Her favorite drink is water, and she loves yoga pants.
She's hard working: not only is she a YA and MG author, but she's also an agent with the D4EO agency. She's also part of the the wonderful YA Highway bloggers.

I hope you have a wonderful Valentine's Day, Kristin. I'm very glad of this opportunity to get to know you a little through this fun event.

And Happy Valentine's day to all of you, whether you are single or in a couple. Love is everywhere!

I'm reading a book

2011-02-11T11:07:00.003-07:00

My fellow Shark and Pebbles critique partner, Julie, shared this video with me today. From now on, I declare this as the theme song of my life. I wonder if Julian could some day make a song entitled, "Don't you ever interrupt me when I'm writing my book."
What do you think?

Gone feising

2011-02-06T14:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my Swan Princess participated of her third feis. Since she wasn't nervous at all, I was nervous for her.
I shouldn't have been. Not even for a second. She did wonderful. She participated in a reel, light jig, slip jig, treble jig and hornpipe competition. The last two on hard shoes. I could never remember the steps for one dance, let alone five.
She placed first on the reel and light jig, and fourth on hornpipe. Keep in mind that her class started practicing the dances a couple of weeks before we left for Argentina, and she missed a whole month.
I don't know how she does it. It's a wonderful feeling when your child can do things you'd never consider doing. Or that you can't do. What does she feel up on that stage, in front of so many people? Does she think the sequence of the steps she needs to take or does she just let her feet remember?
I asked her, and she just smiled at me and shrugged her shoulders.
I guess I'll never know.

My medalist and her proud mama

Isn't she adorable?

PS: She's been making bracelets to set up a booth at a boutique. I asked her what she will do with the money and she said, "I'm saving for my competition in Ireland."

She still has countless feiseanna to win before she can go to Ireland for her certification. But do I doubt she will get to do it? Not for a second.

Wiggly Tooth

2011-01-31T14:04:00.000-07:00

My baby boy is almost six years old. He wakes up with a smile to go to kindergarten, early in the morning, with the older kids. He loves break-dancing class. He comes home from school and turns on his iPod so loud I can hear it all the way from the kitchen, while I smile as I imagine him twist and bend with the music, releasing the energy he had to contain in the classroom.

When he thinks I don't see him, he babbles in Arabic to his toys or daydreams on his swing--he could be in a Caribbean beach and not in his room. El Cangri ALWAYS has something nice to say about everybody. He would tell me how pretty I look first thing in the morning, and I know his words come from the heart. No other than a child would say that to me :-)

I've wondered if being positive increases his self-confidence or if his self-confidence helps him be positive. I wish I were more like him in that respect, see the bright side of things.

In his cave-man talk he said last night, "One of my teeth will come out soon." And his eyes sparkled with pride and maybe a tinge of fear.

He's my third child. I should be used to this kind of event. Still, emotion surprised me as I verified that yes, he has a loose tooth. So many months waiting for tiny teeth to finally cut through and end the agony of teething--my boys had always the hardest time while teething--and then one day, without notice, they become wiggly and fall off.

My Cangri is growing. So fast I don't even want to blink in case I miss all the wonder that he is. But every night, at about two, muffled footsteps by my bedroom door, take my attention from even the most fascinating book or dream. He snuggles close to me and says, "I love you, mama."

He's still my baby. My precious third child, so glad to grow up.

Kid History - Episode 1

2011-01-26T10:38:00.000-07:00

This is the greatest Youtube video I've ever watched. I won't spoil it for you, but I warn you as Jaime (who posted it on her blog first, and I just had to share it) did in her blog, I hope you're not drinking anything while watching this video. You've been warned...

Five libraries from the garbage

2011-01-21T00:15:00.000-07:00

I can't let Halloween go. That's the only excuse I have for not updating my blog since the beginning of October. I promise I've been blogging in my mind everyday, but as the great Neil Gaiman would say, "it doesn't count."
Before I blog about the most amazing Christmas of my life, or my new nanowrimo experience, my trip to Argentina, the most beautiful bookstore in the world, or a million other things, I want to share the story of Jose Alberto Gutierrez, a humble garbage truck driver from Bogota, Colombia.
His life changed when he opened a box, and saw Anna Karenina was in it, along with several other books. He took the box home, and his mission of rescuing books from the garbage started.
Since that day in the year 2000, he's rescued more than 12,000 books and he has opened five libraries in humble neighborhoods. The first one started from his home, in his wife's sewing shop. One of the libraries is operated by a 12 year old who volunteered.
The libraries also function as community cultural centers, with reading groups, theater, puppet shows, etc.
This man, who didn't have the opportunity of a formal education, became a promoter of literacy. The libraries don't receive any kind of government subsidies or help. They're there because of Jose Gutierrez's desire to share the books that for other people were garbage, and because of that desire to learn and curiosity that defines as humans.

It's the most wonderful time of the year

2010-10-12T23:04:00.000-07:00

Last week we decorated our house for Halloween. I was about to blog about how much I love this time of the year, how I enjoy the scary books (I'm reading Dracula, again) and the anticipation of Halloween. All of the thoughts I wanted to blog about have been brushed away by the event, the miracle, taking place right now. "Saving the 33," reads the Univision headline. 33 lives, stories, families. So many hopes and plans and dreams that are suddenly possible again, thanks to technology and the efforts of so many people working together to save 33 men.
I remember the first time I saw a picture with a few words that changed the fates of so many.
"We are well in the refuge. All 33 of us."
If a person wanted to make up a more complex story, it wouldn't have surpassed real life. My friends' facebooks statuses say it all:
"Never so many have been following the fate of just a few."
"Watching miracles on my TV..."
"Fuerza mineros!"

I'm waiting for the rescue of the fourth man, Carlos Mamani's family is a little huddle waiting for their father and husband. What are they feeling? What are they thinking? The whole world is behind them.

My lovies

2010-10-04T22:24:00.000-07:00

As a child I fantasized about eating all the cake batter I wanted, drinking all the Coke I wanted, owning as many books as I could afford, among other things.

Is there anything that when you were a child you wanted so much you couldn't wait to be a grown-up to get it?
I do eat the cake batter, even if it has raw eggs--especially if it does. Even though I remember how delicious a Coke in a glass bottle is, I can't drink it, for the life of me! Too sweet! Too bubbly! But I could, if I wanted to. If I make myself drink a Coke, I can do it.
I have a compulsive book-buying disorder. Ask Jeff about it. I relish the sight of books, the smell of them, the feeling of pages on my fingers. Even the cheap mass market kind of pages. I love them all. (Today Smith's was having a buy 2 get one free sale, FYI.)
But the one thing I wanted as a child was a pair of Reebok high top sneakers. And I got them today! Skinny jeans are in, so this must mean all things ninety are in too. Right?

Aren't they lovely? My poor husband is horrified, but they're the most wonderful pair of shoes I've ever owned.

My new hobbie

2010-10-01T10:50:00.000-07:00

In the book I wrote last year, futbol is a central theme (pun not intended). Not only the sport, but how it affects society (especially in Rosario, Argentina) and the people. Why people like it, why people follow a team even in the worst circumstances (like Central being relegated the the B Nacional). I could write thousands of words about Central and futbol in general. In fact, most of the words I had to cut out where futbol-related because they didn't advance the plot.
The story I'm working on also takes place in Argentina, but it has nothing to do with futbol. I do mention the character is a Central fan and the love interest likes the other team (I won't even name it here), Romeo and Juliet style. But the main conflict is about a Flamenco guitar player and his group who are offered a spot at a prestigious competition. My problem is, I don't know anything about Flamenco. I've always liked it, but never took a class. Until now. About a month ago, I found a class taught by the very talented Solange Gomes, from Tablado Flamenco Company.
I must be the stiffest-legged student she's ever had. But I want to learn. Yesterday, I could do the Sevillana, with arms! Because following the steps (wearing 3 inches-heels) is one thing, and doing the arm movements is quite another.
But I'm having so much fun, and I'm learning.
Here's a clip from one of my favorite movies, Carmen, by Carlos Saura.
Antonio Gades can convey so much feeling and passion with his dancing, I tear up. Of course, you must think I cry over anything, but I only cry when the emotion is so big I can't describe it with words.

I hope you all have a great weekend. I plan on sleeping in until 9 and practicing my tango steps.

We survived

2010-09-28T11:16:00.000-07:00

We all survived the weekend apart. I missed my kids so much, Jeff had to tell me to stop calling them. They were all right. They missed me, but not so much they couldn't appreciate how fun it is to have dad home.
For me, it was another set of things I had to survive. Not having the excuse of children for not writing, sharing one bathroom with six other people, having roommates and having to turn the light off at a certain time, listening to what an agent has to say about my book. The last one was very nerve-wracking but so beneficial at the same time. I had so many people read my first chapter and tell me they love it. I thought the agent would say, "You know what? Go home and take on another hobby."
But she didn't. She was very positive about my chapter and gave me great advise.
I'm glad I attended this retreat because it made me stretch out of my comfort zone.
Have you been in this situation before, out of your element? How have you cope with the changes in order to stretch yourself and your skills? I'd love to hear what you have to say.

Adventurers

2010-09-24T09:03:00.001-07:00

Do you want to know what Jeff was doing last week?
He was fishing in Alaska.
He showed me a video of him fishing on one side of the river, and a brown bear, watching him from the other shore.
And yesterday? Where was he?
He was skydiving.
I didn't want him to go. I was so scared he'd be the one case in 1, 000, 000, 000, 000, 000 whose parachute doesn't open. Being a widow at the age of 32? No, thanks.
But there was no way he'd not do it. Poor Jeff, I gave him such a hard time.
But he went to Moab, jumped from an airplane, and he lived to tell the tale. He looks ecstatic in all the pictures.
I must confess: I envy him a little. No, not the fishing trip, but the courage and faith to jump from a plane and trust that a few yards of fabric will give him wings to fly and then, land him safe and sound.
This weekend I'll be at the Writers' Retreat hosted by Fire Petal Bookstore. Agent Lauren Macleod will be there, and by now, she must have read the first chapter of Southern Cross. I'm so anxious to know what she thought if it!
But most of all, I'm anxious about leaving Jeff and the kids for two nights. I printed out schedules and instructions, the address and schedule for the conference, left El Cangri's medicine ready in case he gets stung by a bee (I pray to all the angels of heaven that he won't).
Let's see if four kids are a good match for a brown bear and jumping off a plane.
I'll let you know Monday if we all survive the weekend :-)

Do these four angels look more dangerous than a brown bear?
Don't let the smiles fool you...

When bad things happen to awesome people

2010-09-18T23:37:00.000-07:00

There's a girl in my neighborhood who's an angel in disguise. She always has something good to say about everyone. A couple of times, when I felt invisible at church, or the opposite, when one of my kids (or all 4 of them) was terrible during sacrament meeting and I felt every eye on me, this sweet girl has come up to me and said something like, "You have the sweetest smile," or "I love your skirt." It's always been something simple, short, but that has made my day. And her mother is just the same. Sweetest person ever. She always makes you happy just for being around her. Do you know anyone like them? You're a lucky person if you do.
Last night, during a date, this girl, this sweet, talented, 17 year-old girl, had a terrible car accident and suffered severe spinal injuries. We're all praying for a miracle. If there is one person who deserves a miracle, it's her. If there are still any readers of this blog out there, please, keep Sydney in your prayers, your positive thoughts, or your meditations. The world is a better place because of her, and right now, she needs all the positive energy/blessings she can get.

The Sleeping Poet

2010-08-11T15:14:00.000-07:00

51 years ago, one of the greatest musicians of the Spanish language was born. Gustavo Adrian Cerati. An illuminated mind who in the 80's looked like a guy transported from the future.
I remember when my dad turned 26, (I was 5!), my mom gave him a cassette featuring the Argentine band Virus, and the brand new Soda Stereo, a trio formed by Gustavo, Zeta and Charly. I don't know where that tape is, but its music is embedded in my mind. It weaved its notes around my life. Soda's music is the soundtrack not only of my youth, but of my whole life.

On May 15th, 2010, after a concert in Colombia, Gustavo suffered severe brain hemorrhage due to high blood pressure. He never woke up. Sleeping Poet. I can't imagine music without him. Wake up, Gustavo. It's your birthday.

I am back!!! And WiteOnCon.com

2010-08-09T10:21:00.000-07:00

I feel like I'm coming out of a five week long hibernation. Is the World Cup really over? Who won by the way? Yeah, like I don't already know. The defeat against Germany still hurts, but it's time to come out of my summer long silence (in case you wonder, the fact that Argentina didn't win the Cup isn't the reason I haven't been blogging. Real life, and summer, and having to entertain kids 24/7 are the reason).
But while I was silent, I was busy. I completed another round of revisions on Southern Cross, which is currently being critiqued by an editor. I won an auction a while back, and the prize was the critique. I'm still wavering over my ending, but I'm glad someone other than myself is reading the whole thing. I also passed it on to my friend Julie, who's reading it too. She kept complaining she had read so many versions of the beginning, she had to know how it ended.
Since I sent off Southern Cross, I've been tuning the final details on the outline of my new book. Its characters talk to me all day and all night long. They want to be real, on paper, so I have no other option but to obey.
I also wanted to post about WriteOnCon.com, and online writing workshop. If you haven't checked it out yet, you should! It looks awesome! I already signed up, praying with gratitude I found out about it on Elana's blog. Thanks Elana!
It's still Summer, but the first week of August is over. Like it says on Tuck Everlasting (I read it this summer, and Ah! What a book!), it's all down hill from now.

Hero

2010-07-03T19:21:00.000-07:00

I've been planning this blog post for months, except I never thought I'd be writing it tonight. I thought next week, on July 11th, I'd be so high with a victory rush that my post would be a gushing of pride and, that, victory.
Argentina lost to Germany today. Let me rephrase.
No, we didn't lose. They bulldozed us, beat us to the ground. Made us go through an agony of 90 + minutes with their 4-0 victory.
4-0
The dream of being the world champions was so close, so real, I, like I'm sure the other 40 million Argentines in the world, would go to bed every night fantasizing about seeing that image on the TV screen. The 23 guys and Diego lifting the cup and going back home victorious. When the dream is so close, so possible, it hurts like death when it comes to an end.
We've been through this before. Against Germany too. Those Germans. Those implacable Germans. But it still hurts. Every time.
When the clock showed there were only 20 minutes left in the game, and we were 3 down, I looked at my sobbing 9 year old son and, as gently as I could, I prepared him. "We're going to lose. But we'll be OK."
He sobbed even harder.
Only last week my precious boy was crying of happiness. An event that made me prouder than Argentina's goal. I told my son, "Remember this is the first time you cry for the albiceleste."
Our national team has given us so many reasons to celebrate. But we've also cried with them. So many times. With Diego, especially.
Diego, our hero, whom so many people hate and so many others idolize. The Napoli people still thank him for the two scudetti Diego won for them, and the Argentines, oh the Argentines! How many times have I shouted goal because of him.
Many people can't understand why we Argentines love him in spite of his drug problems, the times he was so out of control we thought we'd kill himself, and all his craziness.
We love him because he showed us that it IS possible for a boy from the slums to rise to the top of the world and be the best. So good, his goal against England in '86 is regarded as the goal of the century. We love him because 4 short years after the ill-fated Malvinas War, our country stood proudly against the English, and we beat them. With the "Hand of God" and that "Goal of the Century."
In Italy '90, Diego, with a swollen ankle the size of his neck, still played EVERY game and took a mediocre team to the final. Against Germany. Again. We lost. The image of our hero, crying as he received a despised second place medal is etched in my eyes and my heart. I was 12. I'll never forget that July 8th, 1990.
And now, we had another incredible chance. With Lionel Messi, the current best player of the world. A team made up of so much talent, Diego had a hard time choosing whom to take to the cup.
It wasn't meant to be. Excuses. I could find a million. The truth is, we're out and we'll have to wait four more years to try again.
Why is futbol so intoxicating? So special that whole countries go insane when the ball crosses the goal line?
It's not just a sport. Our players fight for National Honor. They're the proof that a person can change history, that even if the economy is still decrepit, if the politicians still lie and steal from the people, if the First World countries always use the Poor Ones as peons in their power struggles, we are good at something. When Messi scores a goal, each Argentine, man or woman, adult or child, feels they're there on the field. Celebrating. And when we see Diego cry! A god crying! We cry too.
That game sure has something special if a little boy who's never been to Argentina can toss nervously at night, anxious for the game, and then the next day cry of disappointment when he realizes no matter how much he prays, the team won't make it. And later that night, still with the blue and white jersey on, go out and face the world, chin up, looking everyone in the eye, because we have nothing to be ashamed of.

You just keep going

2010-06-24T12:58:00.000-07:00

2010 will be a year to remember. In the South Africa FIFA worldcup, both former champions and runner-up, Italy and France respectively, are out after the group phase (shocking!) and in Wimbledon, Isner and Mahut played the longest tennis match ever. 11 hours. Give or take a few minutes. A game that spanned over three days. Three days of playing tennis, people! Where do the players get the determination to keep playing? Is there a loser?

Another epic event occurred during the USA game against Algeria. When everyone thought the USA was out of the cup, disappointing again, Landon Donovan rose from the ashes of defeat and scored a goal that in the future will probably be regarded as the turning point of how important futbol is for this country, in spite of what Glenn Beck might say.

And to end my blog post of the week, I can't fail to mention the newest chapter in the fairy tale of Argentine striker Martin Palermo. A 36 year old player who's biggest dream was just being part of the team. A player who was third choice after Milito and Higuain, futbol stars in Italy and Spain. Argentina was playing Greece, in a super tight game. Martin Demichelis had redeemed his mistake in the game against South Korea when he scored the first goal at minute '77. Still, Argentina needed another goal, to breathe in peace and make an almost perfect first round campaign.
Diego Maradona, against his advisors' counsel, gave Martin Palermo the opportunity of going into the pitch at minute '80. Who knew that 10 minutes would be enough to re-write history, to make a whole nation cry of gratitude and emotion?
Maradona told Palermo, "Go in and leave your life." The hero went in, gave his life, and became a Titan, just like his nickname implies. He will go down on the records of history as the oldest guy to debut in the national worldcup team and score a goal. At minute '89.
What does this all mean? It means that even when you think you're at the end of the road, that your dreams were good dreams, but are just too hard to reach, that you did your best and no one can blame you for giving up, that there's no more hope, think again. There's always hope. You can always do a little more. Who knows? What you thought was your final scene, might be the beginning of the best story of your life.

The First Day of Summer

2010-06-21T16:48:00.001-07:00

This is joy. My Swan Princess dancing under the sprinklers' shower celebrating the first day of summer.

WIFYR and the first week of the Worldcup!

2010-06-19T11:18:00.001-07:00

In spite of not running much, I feel like I've ran a marathon, one that lasted for a whole week. The Writing for Young Readers conference was the incentive I needed to take my writing to a new level. The first day, the magnitude of the work ahead of me overwhelmed me. By Wednesday, and because I was in an exhaustion-induced high that seemed to slow time for me, I had an epiphany. If I keep writing, never give up, and implement the tools I acquired during the conference, in the end, my book will be a better book. Critique groups are hard. Baring your soul (that's what my writing means--my soul) in front of people to discuss is a akin to standing naked in front of strangers while they discuss each and every flaw of your body. But it's an essential part if the writing process.
I had the privilege of attending the Contemporary Novel Workshop, taught by Ann Dee Ellis, author of This is What I Did.
The quality of writing and critique in the group was way beyond my expectations. I'm honored for having shared a week surrounded by such talented artists. At the beginning of the week we started with 15 strangers, and by Friday, I felt my companions were part of my family. I expect great things to come from our group. The stories we were working on were funny, romantic, imaginative, and also heart-wrenching, real, life-changing.

The Crying Class: Melanie, Christian, Michelle, Erika, Amy, Lisa
Me, Cherise, Ann Dee, Angie, Shar, Tony, Alicia and Neil (not in picture: Rebekah)

One of the best parts of the conference was the book signing. My dear friend Julie gave my Gorgeous Boy a ride so he could have his books signed by Brandon Mull (Fablehaven among others) and Dave Farland (where do I start?), two of my son's favorite writers.

Another awesome thing was meeting Carolyn! C., I'm so sorry I missed our lunch on Friday! I arrived late and our class stayed late too! I'm so sorry. But thank you with all my heart for finding me. I love meeting online friends in real life. At least we know we are real!

And to finish my post, and just because I can't blog and not mention the amazing WorldCup, here's a clip of the game that fed my hope that this year, the Cup might be ours. 4-1!!!!!
Enjoy!

Hours away!!!

2010-06-10T21:58:00.000-07:00

When I wake up in just a few hours, it will be World Cup time. One whole month of breathing, eating, dreaming futbol. I wish I were in South Africa. But even if mine is the only voice chanting in my neighborhood, I'll always sing to the albiceleste and pray to all the angels of heaven for a victory, for the opportunity to join my voice to my fellow Argentines all over the world as we cheer for our guys. This will be Leo's year. Juan Sebastian's world cup. El Kun's chance to showcase his magic. The Little Chief, Mascherano will make history. Romero, guarding our goal. May no balls breach our goal posts. Carlitos Tevez, the player of the people, will dance his magic steps on the field. Milito, The Titan Palermo, Heinze, all of our guys. This year, the blue and white will be victorious again. Diego, this is your chance to prove the world you can soar higher than in 1986, and be great again, even greater than in Mexico.
I'm so excited for this world cup I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight.

Long Live Las Provincias Unidas del Sur!!!!

So handsome!

2010-05-27T11:22:00.001-07:00

They hold my heart! So much depends on them. Not only do we have the best players, but they're so good-looking!

Hear Ye Mortals

2010-05-25T13:30:00.001-07:00

... The sacred cry. Liberty, liberty, liberty. This is the opening line of the Argentine Anthem.
200 Years have passed since the first Argentine government was established on May 25th 1810, defying the motherland, Spain. For two hundred years, our people have been clamoring for liberty
and trying to forge an Argentine identity from as many cultures and countries as exist in this world. The Argentine newspaper Clarin made a poll in which it asked the people what it means to be an Argentine. The answers range from the very worst (unorganized, corrupted, lazy) to the very best (hard-working, imaginative, resilient, brave).
This is my definition of Argentina, or what comes to my mind when I think about my beautiful country,

The school, especially the ones out in the country. Where the teacher breaks a pencil in two so two kids can learn.

The maté and the gaucho. Asado and dulce de leche

The newspaper stand

The bus

Laughing in class with Clemente and Mafalda

Beyond his ideologies, we had a famous revolutionary

When Las Leonas play hockey, or Los Pumas play rugby, Del Potro wins the US Open or Manu fights in the playoffs, we all cheer for them:

The art of the written word: Borges, Cortazar, Alfonsina Storni

One of the most beautiful bookstores in the world. El Ateneo

The mind behind the bypass: Rene Favaloro

The art of music. Soda Stereo and Andres Calamaro. They sing the soundtrack of my life

The fallen soldiers of Malvinas

Iguazu, Aconcagua and Perito Moreno Glacier

Diego and Lio

The people who cheer no matter what

Social unrest. Desaparecidos

Buenos Aires

Rosario Central

The Flag Memorial

San Martin, the liberator. The general who helped us realize that fighting for freedom would only work if we were united. He died in exile, after all he did for the people not only of Argentina, but Chile, Peru and Bolivia.

My barrio

Argentina is the people who stayed, and the others like me, who for one reason or another left the country, but never abandoned it. No matter where I looked today, I saw the colors of my flag. Blue sky against the white mountains. In the car wash, blue soap against the white foam.
Fito Paez, a Rosarinian singer and fellow Scoundrel sings, "I'm not from here, or there."
That's exactly what I feel. When I'm in Argentina, I can't wait to come back home in Utah. When I'm here, I only dream of going back there. My heart will forever be torn in two. When I was a little girl, I loved to read the dictionary. In the back there was a spread displaying the world flags. My favorite ones were always the Argentine flag, and the USA one, even before I knew what a country even was.
Being an Argentine, is being conflicted. Always. The land of our ancestors versus the land where we were born. The place where we were born versus the place where it is home. All tugging at my heart with the same force, for different reasons.
Happy Two hundred Years Argentina. May the future bring us stability, peace, and wisdom to choose who best represents us. May we be free from ourselves, those traits that pull us down.

Choices

2010-05-23T17:56:00.000-07:00

Our life is made out of the choices we take each and every second. I used to love the Richard Bach books in which he talked about alternate universes. Sometimes I wonder about the choices that lead me to this life I'm living right now. What would have happened had my mom not enrolled me in a Catholic-all-girls school in the third grade? What would have happened had I not come to BYU? What if we stayed in Puerto Rico back in 2002? Where would I be now? What would have happened to me or my family? Would we be better off, or worse? There's no telling because all that matters is what is today and now.
Keane's new album, Night Train, just barely came out and I love all of the songs because of their lyrics. As is Keane's custom, the songs in their albums are connected through a common phrase or theme. This album's is Time, as in how we're always looking back over our shoulders to a time that is already gone. One song says something like, "They say life makes sense backwards, only you have to live it forward."
Today, the team that holds my heart, Rosario Central, descended to a lower division. I can't express how horrible this is for me, for my family, my city. It's been raining all day here in Utah, and to match the mood of the city, it rained in Rosario too.
My youngest brother lives in Argentina, not in Rosario though, so right after the game finished I called him to commiserate together in our solitude (our spouses can't understand what it feels like). He said his mother-in-law told him not to worry— there are worse things than losing a game or a category. And she is so right. She is. But. But it still hurts. For you see? A team is one of the things you can't choose. You either are born into one or aren't. At least in Argentina.
We should be used to losing, and —oh my!— how I wish sometimes I were born in a different team! True, I cheer for Barcelona, but it's not the same. If Lio Messi weren't playing in it, I could care less about it.
Even when I tell myself it doesn't matter, and avoid watching the games, or reading the news online, the truth is, when I look at the clock and see it's almost time for a game, my heart races, my mind flies thousands of miles south to where part of my heart is.
I confess. It's a disease; it's horrible. But in the good times? Like when we won the South American Championship in 1996? The feeling is sublime. Central now has to play in the National B, and try to make it back to National League. We've been in this situation before. I know we'll make it out again.
I truly think it's a curse that we got just by being born in Rosario. Even the greatest player in the world, Lio Messi, always goes back to it even if it's only for a day or two. Though it's not the mos beautiful, modern, or safe city, I miss it. I want to be there with my fellow Scoundrels through this dark night. But no more looking back; we have to look at the future. And now, after this, I really need Argentina to win the World Cup. Nothing else will do.
I know by now I've already missed most of my followers and readers. I figured there's plenty of blogs that offer great writing advise, so what can I add to what's already been said? But Central and Rosario are the soul of my stories. I left the barrio, but the barrio never left me. Just to give you a glimpse of what the Scoundrel band is like, you can watch this video if you want. The Scoundrels cheer even when we lose (yes, it's "we" not just the players). Tell me it's not insanity?

Waving Flag

2010-05-14T23:15:00.001-07:00

26 Days!!!!!!!!!! For what, you may ask? Only for the celebration of the most beautiful game in the world. Here's the South Africa 2010 World Cup Official Anthem by K'naan and David Bisbal. Worth your time.

Give me freedom
Give me fire
give me reason
Take me higher
see the champions
take the field now
you’ll be fighters
make us feel proud
En las calles muchas manos (in the streets many hands)
levantadas, celebrando (raised, celebrating)
una fiesta sin descanzo (a party without rest)
los paises como hermanos (countries are brothers)
Canta y une tu voz (sing and join your voice)
grita fuerte que te escuche el sol (shout until the sun hears you)
el partido ya va a comenzar (the game is about to start)
todos juntos vamos a ganar (all together we will win)
Unidos! (United!)
Seremos grandes, (We'll be great)
seremos fuertes (We'll be strong)
somos un pueblo (we are one people)
bandera de libertad (flag of liberty)
que viene y que va (x3) (that comes and goes)
when i get older
i will be stronger
they’ll call me freedom
just like a wavin flag
Now wave your flag (x3)
ohhh ohhh ohhh ohhh
Danos vida (give us life)
danos fuego (give us fire)
que nos lleve a lo alto (let it raise us)
campeones o vencidos (champions or defeated)
pero unidos a internarlos (but united in trying)
In the streets
are exalted people
as we lose our inhibitions
celebration is around us
every nation all around us
Singing forever young, singing
songs underneath the sun
let’s rejoice to the beautiful game
and together at the end of day
Seremos grandes,
seremos fuertes
somos un pueblo
bandera de la libertad
que viene y que va (x3)
when i get older
i will be stronger
they’ll call me freedom
just like a wavin flag
Now wave your flag (x3)
ohhh ohhh ohhh ohhh
Unidos!
Seremos grandes,
seremos fuertes
somos un pueblo
bandera de la libertad
when i get older
i will be stronger
they’ll call me freedom
just like a wavin flag
Now wave your flag (x3)
ohhh ohhh ohhh ohhh
And everybody
will be singing…

My blue and white is ready to shine. South Africa is almost here!!! Vamos Argentina!

What's your price?

2010-05-10T09:35:00.000-07:00

This last weekend I went back to my favorite author, Carlos Ruiz Zafon, to re-read the last pages of
The Angel's Game. I had read the last part so fast, and there were so many things going on, I had to go back to make more sense of the ending, which left me reeling, almost breathless, when I devoured it the first time.
Since you have probably noticed I'm slightly obsessed with this talented Spanish author, I'll just say in my defense that his writing is addictive. The Shadow of the Wind, with its wonderful, real characters, is still with me. And what can I say about Angel's? Well, the beginning hooked me and hasn't let go of me yet.
Judge for yourself:

A writer never forgets the first time he accepted a few
coins or a word of praise in exchange for a story. He will never
forget the sweet poison of vanity in his blood, and the belief
that, if he succeeds in not letting anyone discover his lack of
talent, the dream of literature will provide him with a roof
over his head, a hot meal at the end of the day, and what he
covets the most: his name printed on a miserable piece of
paper that surely will outlive him. A writer is condemned to
remember that moment, because from then on he is doomed
and his soul has a price.

Needless to say, after reading these words I was so invested in the story (involving David, a dark, tragic writer hero), I couldn't put the book down. It called right to my soul, being an aspiring author and all. I mean, who hasn't felt at least once that satisfaction of receiving praise for something we've created, be it words, images, a scrapbook, art, etc.
My writing will never tempt the devil to commission me a book in exchange for my soul, but there are things I pay in return for being able to write. I don't sleep well; I don't read as much as I used to; I don't scrapbook or garden or do any other things that may detract me from my writing.
On the other hand, I won't give up my time with my husband and my kids. Or my faith. Or my devotion for the Argentine national futbol team. Like I said, I wouldn't trade my soul for getting my book published (crossing my fingers it'll never come to that). But, let's face it. The day only has 24 hours. There's a limited number of things we can do with it.
So, what do you give up in return for your writing, or photography, or other hobbies/interests you may have. What's the line you'll never cross?
I'm very much looking forward to reading your comments!

Beginnings

2010-05-06T20:58:00.001-07:00

My son plays futbol in a field adjacent to a small hospital with a big maternity ward. Hospital security patrols the parking lot with the passion of a zealot, trying to catch those who break the rules and park close to the field in spite of the warnings posted all over the place. I never want to risk having my car towed away, and I want to make sure I keep my son in plain sight as he walks to his team's meeting place, so I just drop him off by the curb.
The other day, the day of the final, I was waiting for Gorgeous to reach his team so I could park in the allowed parking lot (awfully designed, crowded, faraway from the field). A young girl (a sign I'm getting old: people in their early 20's look like babies to me) cradled her swollen belly, barely able to walk. I assume it was her husband, another young one, who supported her weight as she took tremulous steps to the ER. My first reaction was outrage.
What was he thinking? Why didn't he just park right in front of the ER and took her inside and then took care of the car! Why didn't he just lift her in his arms? She couldn't walk! She was obviously in active labor.
They stopped in the middle of the road. They looked like they were in their own little world. Her face, etched with concentration. Oh how I felt what she was going through!
And then I saw his face. He was so young. His arm, protectively circling the two people who needed him the most: his wife and his unborn child. How scared he looked. And then I felt bad for judging him.
I was relieved when the security guard, for once ignoring the parking rules breaking people, found a wheelchair for the young mother and escorted them inside the hospital.
I prayed that their baby was healthy and safe. He was obviously loved already. And I also prayed for those young, young parents. That they may find confidence and strength. For the sleepless nights, for the scraped knees, the wounded little hearts that would come to them for comfort and confidence and strength.

Nine years ago, that young couple were Jeff and I. In spite of reading all the pregnancy/parenting books we could get our hands on, we had no idea of what we were doing, what we had gotten ourselves into. I remember the feeling on the drive to the ER. The clammy hands, the apprehension, the fear. That was it. In a few more hours, I'd meet my baby. My life would never be the same. And I also remember Jeff's eyes. Poor Jeff!

There's nothing like that first time. The day your child is born, and you become a father or a mother. There's no going back either.
The fear, the dread, the apprehension, the clammy hands, never really go away, not completely. I still don't know what I'm doing. My poor Gorgeous, my guinea-pig, has to put up with my inexperience for everything. From changing diapers to science fair projects, we're learning together. He teaches me all the time.
Another mother's day, another day to remember that beginning of this journey that has no end.
Happy mother's day, to all the mothers who everyday learn with their children how to be a better person, how to enjoy life.

The Shadow of the Wind Contest Winners!

2010-05-04T17:34:00.000-07:00

How my Gorgeous Boy agonized over choosing only one winner. He wanted all of you wonderful friends to win, but luck favored .... TAN, TAN, TAN, TAN......

Michelle Mclean!!!!!

So Michelle, please email me your mailing address at
cheboricuas AT gmail DOT com, and I'll be more than happy to send you a copy of Shadow or The Angel's Game. Let me know your preference on the email.
I loved reading your comments and passing my enthusiasm of this wonderful author on to you guys.
"Mom, let's do this contest thing more often," my son said.
So check back for another contest in the near future! To my new followers, welcome to my blog. To old followers and friends, thanks for coming back. I won't promise mind blowing blog posts, but now that there's the promise of contests you might want to keep in touch.

Thanks to all who participated!

Spreading the Awesome: The Shadow of the Wind Review and Giveaway

2010-05-03T05:59:00.003-07:00

Today, throughout the blogosphere, several hmm...bloggers are hmm... blogging about their favorite books (you thought I was going to say Blogs, right?) Check out Elana's blog for a complete list of awesomeness. There are several amazing contests going on.

Ever since I learned to read, I've devoured the written word. From Heidi to the dictionary, I read everything I could get my hands on. Once in a while, a book would hit me right in the heart, become part of me, marking me with its words forever. The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafón, is such a book.
The story starts in Barcelona. A father tells his son Daniel he can't tell anyone about the place they're about to visit, The Cemetery of Forgotten Books.

"Not even mom?" the boy asks.
"You can tell mom. We don't keep anything from her," says the father.

The boy chooses a book from the Cemetery, or the book chooses him. And since that moment, the story of Daniel and Julián Carax, the mysterious author of the book, intertwine over the following years, until they become one.

The Shadow of the Wind, a Gothic portrait of post Franco Barcelona, weaves romance, mystery, and suspense in a tapestry of plain beauty. I've read Eco, Borges, Marques, authors whom people compare to Zafón. Don't let these comparisons deter you from reading this wonderful book. Zafón is nothing like them. The characters are real, the dialog is superb, the descriptions are evocative. It's no wonder this book is an international best-seller.
I don't have a signed copy, but if you follow my blog and leave a comment today, tomorrow I'll draw a winner of a copy of The Shadow of the Wind or The Angel's Game, its companion book.
Last, but not least, Amy Holder has a wonderful review and contest in her blog too. Click on the links, they will connect all the blogs, or just go to Elana's main recommended reads page (the same link as above). Have fun!

Wow you guys! I'm going to have to do contest more often. Welcome wonderful new friends! I hope you'll stop by and visit after the contest too.
My Gorgeous Boy won second place on his futbol tournament, and I told him he can draw the name of the lucky winner of a copy of Shadow of the Wind. We won't be home until after 5 today (Tuesday) so there are still a few hours to enter the contest. Spread the word and spread the awesomeness!

May Day

2010-05-01T16:15:00.000-07:00

Maybe I should get used to the idea that Spring skips Utah, or prepare my mind to the fact that Her ephemeral visit leaves a longing worse than looking at pictures of the Caribbean in January. Like the rest of Utahns, my family and I pretend winter is over, and after the morning snow melts from the sidewalk, we water the frost burnt flowers and head to the soccer games, outdoors birthday parties, and sporting events like watching The Real Salt Lake—bundled up like we're going skiing.
Even the trees join the pretend-Spring. They bloom in fragrant flowers. The white petaled clusters look like popcorn, just like the children's song says. The babbling creek in our backyard lures us to its side, but it's still too cold to venture out. At least for me.
"I can't live like this," I told my friend today, like I do every May.
So today, in honor of May Day, and to let Spring know we are ready for her to come and please stay, the kids tied ribbons in the ancient hawthorn tree in our secret garden. For a moment the sun came out, shining on the kids as they made their wishes. My wish was to let the moment last forever. But like Spring's visit, it lasted an instant. All that is left are the blue ribbons on the tree and the pictures I had the good sense to take.

Chubbers learning how to tie her ribbon

Team work: she holds the branch, Gorgeous ties

Lovely hands

Making wishes is hard work

My pagan kids

Fire Water

2010-04-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

Mt short story "Fire Water" is up on the Utah Children's Writers Blog. I hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment!

Dear High School Self

2010-04-20T21:44:00.002-07:00

Today twitter was boiling with the #gimmeacall hashtag. It all started as a promotion for the book Gimme A Call by Sarah Mlynowski. YA authors started tweetting their younger selves and before long, everybody was sending messages of encouragement, warning, love, etc to themselves. The premises of the book is about a 15 year old girl who gets a call from herself from the future (sheesh! I've used self a lot, haven't I?). How cool would that be?
I had a blast reading tweets from people like Neil Gaiman. His was: Dear 15-year-old-self, those comics you feel guilty for spending your barmitzvah money on each week will save your life one day.

Sarah's was: What I would tell my high school self #1: Do not kiss two boys in one day. You will get mono.

@zieglerjennifer: Dear High School Self: At your reunion, your high school crush will admit he always liked you. So ask HIM out...

nerdgoddess Dear HS Self: everyone is just as worried about what people think of them as you are. Relax a little ...

Some of my tweets to my teenage self were:

Keep studying those idioms. One day, you'll write books--in English.
The guy you end up marrying is so much hotter (and so much more worth it) than the one who broke your heart.
You will feel in heaven when a 9 year old tells you you're beautiful. Because he's your son.

What would you tell your younger self if you had a magical phone?

Last, before I break my promise, the lovely Amparo sent me this wonderful award:

Thank you Amparo! I pass it on to :
Tiffany Dominguez
Jaime Theler
Terresa
Valerie
Windy

I'll break the rules and do only five. But they're all deserving ladies.

Since it's Friday and all

2010-04-16T10:32:00.001-07:00

I love Fridays. My kids get out of school early, we don't have any games/dances/performances/meetings to attend, we eat pizza--my favorite food in the universe.
If I close my eyes, I can see my teenage self getting ready to go out with my friends, even if it was just to the front door to see the cool people go out clubbing. The excitement of Friday night starts in the morning, and when I heard this song Elana shared on her blog, I borrowed the link from her to spread the joy. Hope you like it. Happy Friday!

The land of magic

2010-04-14T15:44:00.000-07:00

We had spring break last week, or the kids did. After years of wanting to go to Disneyland, and in spite of the San Antonio SeaWorld fiasco of last summer, Jeff and I decided to make the 10 hour drive to Anaheim with a rest stop in Las Vegas. When they heard the news, the kids were ecstatic, probably thinking it was an April's Fools joke. Even if I had to fly, I'd have done anything to get away from home--there was another snow storm on the way. But the torture of flying wasn't necessary. Contrary to what anyone might think, driving for hours and hours with your family can be fun. We talked, watched a lot of movies, took naps. Poor Jeff only got to drive, but I think even he had a great time.
We stopped at the JW Marriott in Vegas, where we've already stayed before and we all love.

It was Easter morning, and in the packing frenzy I forgot to include Easter treats. On Saturday night Chubbers was bossing everyone around to go to sleep or the Easter Bunny wouldn't come. :-(
The following morning I heard a little voice say the saddest words in the world, "The Easter Bunny didn't come."
A couple of chocolate pomegranates later she was her happy self again and her enthusiasm kept growing the closer we got to Disneyland.
About two hours before we arrived I was lurking on twitter and found out there was an earthquake in Baja that shook LA for several seconds. We didn't feel anything, but the memory of that earthquake resonated in my ears throughout the whole week.
Our first night we just walked to the restaurant, enjoying the pleasure of being outside without being bundled up, freezing with cold. There were lots of people coming out of the park. Parents and kids laughing and smiling. Happy. I couldn't wait for the next morning.
They say that an image speaks louder than words, so here are some images of our Disney experience.

Seeing the look on the kids' faces when they saw Mickey, Donald, Goofy and Jessie as soon as we entered the park. The hilarity of the Space Mountain picture of Jeff and the kids. Riding on the carousel. Donald, I almost cried when I hugged him. The love with which Chubbers hugged all the characters we met. The magic reflected on my kids' eyes when the fireworks started. Seeing Stitch, our family's second favorite character (the first one is Donald). Screaming and laughing at the same time on the fast rides and seeing El Cangri's terrified face. Feeling like a kid again. Meeting a lot of friends on spring break too. Staying up until midnight to get into the most popular rides.
Priceless. Disneyland really is the land of magic, where parents and kids can play and laugh together, just like Walt Disney envisioned.
Will we go back to Sea World? No, most likely not. But will we go back to Disneyland? Heck yes! In fact the kids want to go next year and take the grandparents. I loved every second we were there. Even the long lines.

La sombra del viento

2010-04-01T23:06:00.002-07:00

La Sombra del Viento by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I'm half-way through this addictive book. The best book I've ever read. Wow. What a gift with words. I'm curious about the English translation because the original language is so beautiful it has me crying on one page and laughing aloud the next. Oh Barcelona! I think I'd love to live there!

View all my reviews >>

The cycle of creativity

2010-03-19T10:36:00.000-07:00

It's no secret I love music. I joined a facebook page of the radio show my brother and I used to listen to when we were teenagers. The DJ played at several clubs, and I only attended one of them, Ibiza, when I was 15. The fans of the page post videos and clips of the music we used to listen to and my mind travels to those years, so long ago (well, not too long really). When I'm writing/thinking/plotting/editing my stories, I listen to different kinds of music to inspire me. Today, at another facebook page I follow (I know, I know!) I read this amazing book review by Keane's Tim Rice-Oxley. He finds the inspiration for the songs he writes when he reads books! So musicians and writers inspire each other with the music they write with words or notes. Who would have thought! That's a cycle, not vicious, but of creativity.

Pearls of wisdom

2010-03-16T09:13:00.000-07:00

This morning during my scripture study, I found a wonderful gem that was like a ray of light in my mind.
"He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap."
Ecc. 11:4
I know I haven't been the most diligent blog poster, but I've been busy, busy, I tell you. I want this novel to be finished. Writing it was so easy, I'm staggered by the amount of work editing is. At the same time, working on something that was born in my mind, polishing it until I'm not embarrassed to show it to my awesome critique group partners, brings me such joy, that I keep going. Even when it's 2 in the morning and I have to get up four hours later. All day I think about the plot, the characters, the sentence structure. I read my favorite books to study what the author did to draw me into the story, and I get lost in the story (The Hunger Games is as riveting or more the fourth time as is the first). I'm loving every minute of the revision process, even though sometimes I wish I could blink and see it finished.
The wind is tempting, the clouds, pretty to look at. But my work is in the words.

Music doesn't speak a language. It is The universal language.

2010-03-03T23:20:00.000-07:00

Music is such an important part of my life I can't live without it. I like everything, from El Concierto de Aranjuez, to reaggeaton, to Coldplay, to Luis Miguel. Arabic instrumental music, Irish reels, African lullabies. They all speak to me and paint images in my mind.
Unless you were living under a rock twenty-five years ago (or you weren't even born and then stayed isolated from civilization), you might know the song We Are The World immortalized by Michael Jackson. There are two amazing new versions going around in youtube and being played in radio stations. The English version is almost perfection because Enrique Iglesias sings a line...swoon...
But here it is, judge for yourself and then please continue to the end of the post:

But the other version tugs at my heart even though Enrique doesn't sing in it. A lot of Spanish speaking artists from all over the world got together to record the Spanish version of We Are The World. My favorite part is the end. I'm not a Pitbull fan, but his part in the song is very poignant and emotive. And Daddy Yankee? No words can describe what that man can do with his music.
Pitbull:
Latinos Unidos pero más que nada somos humanos
Latinos United, but more than anything we're brothers and sisters
Cuando uno esta paabajo eso es cuando das la mano
When you're brother is down, that's when you reach out your hand
Eso es un hermano
That's a brother
Dios Bendiga los haitianos
May God bless the Haitian people
Sak Pase Nap Bule
Ya tú sabes estamos claros
Now you know, we're all clear

Daddy Yankee:
Este es un grito mundial
This is a worldwide cry
Que retumba en tu nación
that reverberates in your nation
Somos El Mundo
we are the world
Una Raza Pa
We are one race
Un Solo Corazón
An only heart
Somos Latinos Unidos en una canción
We are Latinos united in a song
Con una poderosa misión
With a powerful mission
Contigo lleva la bendición por fe!
Take with you the blessing of the faith!
Haití renacerá del polvo Y las cenizas
Haiti will be reborn from dust and ashes
Cada niño tiene el derecho de llevar una sonrisa
Each child has the right to wear a smile
Dale la mano a tu hermano
Give your brother your hand
Sirve de consuelo
Be a comfort
Siembra en la tierra = Taboo (Black Eye Peas)
Sow on Earth
Y recibe el tesoro de los cielos
Receive a treasure in heaven
Come On

Even f you don't speak/understand Spanish, I hope you can feel the message of hope that these artists are trying to convey.

From giant snails to vampires

2010-02-26T17:04:00.000-07:00

Look what my brother found in his yard the other day:

I follow a newspaper from Rosario on facebook, and I saw this video of a giant snail. I clicked on it, and I knew a recognized the man's voice from somewhere... and my brother had just sent me a picture of a snail he had found...
Yes, sllllllloooooooowwwww reflexes. By Thursday I'm even more of a zombie than usual. It finally clicked on me that the person on the other side of the camera was indeed my brother!
So today I called him to check on the "little" slug. Our conversation drifted from the snail, to our kids, and before we knew it, one of our favorite topics: vampires.
Oh yes! Our obsession started way before Twilight was even dreamed of. And get this! He didn't even know what Twilight is! I could not believe him! The thing is we always liked the older, more obscure version of vampires. In fact, I confessed to him I'm still haunted by a scene in a vampire movie (the name of which I can't recall), and he knew exactly which one I was talking about.
He also told me of an experience he had. One night he was riding his motorcycle home, very late, through a part of town that is pitch black at night. He got chills all of a sudden, and started imagining that a vampire flew to the motorcycle's backseat. My brother said he sped those last few blocks home. And we laughed and laughed because we could imagine exactly what the other feels when we're scared! We're very mature thirty somethings.
He then said, "I have a theory of fear, which I actually heard on the movie Apocalypto ('cause we like happy, inspiring movies like that Mel Gibson one). Fear is infectious. Once you feel that visceral fear for the first time, you're doomed. You'll feel it again." Then he added in a very annoyed voice, "That's why our kids are so impossible to control. They're not scared of anything! Mom had to only look at us, and we'd freeze like she had sent a freezing ray with her eyes. Our kids don't watch horror movies and the only thing they're scared of are insects, or a giant snail..."
I could not agree with him more.
What do you think?

There's snow in the moon

2010-02-23T15:58:00.001-07:00

That's what my 5 year-old son said today when we were playing outside, in February, on the grass. He looked up to the sky, and there right by our favorite mountain he saw the moon. He had never realized the moon could come out in the daytime too.
I guess that's how life is too. You experience the beautiful radiance of the sunshine on a cold winter day, but sometimes you see the moon peeking at you, like a reminder of night. These last few weeks I have been blessed more than I can express. Or maybe it's not really that I'm receiving more blessings, but that I notice them more because of the sadness that I see around me.
On a Saturday afternoon I was watching my kids play in the exuberant way happy children do. I made the mistake of checking Facebook on my phone, and I found out a dear friend's son died while serving an LDS mission in Romania.
How can feelings fluctuate in a heartbeat and reveal the beauty and wonder of life that were buried underneath petty things like stressing out about a clean house, not being able to sleep in, or the neighbor's barking dog?
I look at my children now, and I think of that wonderful young man, who is so loved by all who knew him. My heart clenches when I notice how hard my kids try please me, how they compete to make me smile, how tender their voices sound when they say they love me.
On Valentine's day I had the blessing of seeing a friend of mine whom I've known for years. She is going through a very hard time in her life--single mother after a painful divorce. That reminder of night made my day brighter. But I'm sad that sometimes I have to see others suffer to make me aware of the frailty of life, of how a sunny day can be turned into a blizzard.
On parent-teacher conference my son's teacher showed me the poem my Gorgeous Boy wrote. The assignment was "The Five Senses of Love," and though I don't remember the whole thing (mostly because I was trying not to cry in front of the teacher), there are three lines that are imprinted on my mind:
Love smells like blueberry muffins fresh out of the oven.
Love looks like a clean house when I come home from school.
Love smells like the honey in hand lotion.
While I was reading it, I thought, "Wait a second. I make blueberry muffins every week, and... and...my hand lotion is honey scented, and...yeah, the clean house obsession."
I'm moved beyond words that my son can feel my love for him in the things I do for him. That was the best Valentine's Day present I have ever received. Though, Jeff, you can still write that letter I've asked you for a thousand times. You know, a la Jane Austen hero's.

So friends who still visit my blog, now you know why I haven't posted at all. It's been a time of reflection here at my house. A time for counting blessings and for praying. And seeing the beauty of moonlight in the night.

Elana Johnson, Author: Pay It Forward Query Critique Contest

2010-02-16T01:16:00.000-07:00

Elana Johnson, Author: Pay It Forward Query Critique Contest

I know, I know. I seem to only blog about other blogs' contests and such, but I promise I've been blogging in my mind about tons of things, like:
1. What Gladiator and The Prince of Egypt have in common.
2. Mr Darcy.
3. Tuck Everlasting and the meaning of life. And dealing with death.
4. The Olympic Games!
5. Re-incarnation or living through your kids.
6. Being grateful...
7. A million other random things.

Maybe one day I'll inflict these topics upon you. For now, I'll post about all these wonderful contests because I want to win something! and because I'm too busy working on my revisions. I'm moving at super slow speed, but so far I'm still in love with this story.
Check out Elana's contest; she's giving out wonderful prizes.

Win Linger by Maggie Stiefvater

2010-02-15T18:35:00.002-07:00

In Maggie Stiefvater's Shiver, Grace and Sam found each other. Now, in Linger, they must fight to be together. For Grace, this means defying her parents and keeping a very dangerous secret about her own well-being. For Sam, this means grappling with his werewolf past . . . and figuring out a way to survive into the future. Add into the mix a new wolf named Cole, whose own past has the potential to destroy the whole pack. And Isabelle, who already lost her brother to the wolves . . . and is nonetheless drawn to Cole.

At turns harrowing and euphoric, Linger is a spellbinding love story that explores both sides of love -- the light and the dark, the warm and the cold -- in a way you will never forget.

Comes out in stores everywhere July 20th. Pre-order here.

Enter to win an advanced review copies of LINGER, Sisters Red, The Dead-Tossed Waves, and The Replacement on Maggie's blog.

I think I'm going to pass out of excitement and impatience!

2010-02-11T21:15:00.000-07:00

On Our Minds @ Scholastic: Hunger Games Book 3 Cover Revealed!

Isn't this a beautiful cover? It's not April's Fools yet, is it? I keep thinking someone will jump from behind me and yell, "GOTCHA!"
What a wonderful series Suzanne Collins has written, and even though I must confess I'm very scared for Gale, Peeta and Katniss (in that order), I can't wait to know what happens next.
Thanks to the Story Siren for the heads up.
What do you guys think of the new cover?

Make Me a Story: Show Your Love for the Storymakers Contest

2010-02-03T10:52:00.000-07:00

Make Me a Story: Show Your Love for the Storymakers Contest

Another contest going on. This one is on the Storymakers Blog in preparation for the conference in April.

Neverending Page Turner: Query Contest

2010-02-02T22:40:00.000-07:00

Neverending Page Turner: Query Contest

There is an awesome contest going on at Kathleen Ortiz's blog. Take a look and enter!

JK Rowling Harvard Commencement Speech

2010-01-30T20:53:00.000-07:00

As If I needed another reason to admire this great lady. Her words are so timely, and I heard them at the right time. The video is only 20 minutes long, but I know the influence of JK's words will linger in my mind, and hopefully the way I live my life, forever.

J.K. Rowling Speaks at Harvard Commencement from Harvard Magazine on Vimeo.

They keep me smiling

2010-01-26T16:44:00.000-07:00

Every day I vow I'll never forget the things my kids say, and I forget all the same. Today it seems my kids had an extra dose of wittiness or cuteness in their breakfast. I hope their words make you smile too.

Episode 1:
Me: "Swan. Finish your homework. All of it or you'll get another "F." (It was taken out of her report when she turned in a month worth of undone homework).
Swan: "It was a "D" not an "F." Wait! What does the "D" stand for? "Defended?" (because I called the teacher to explain why she hadn't submitted homework). "Didn't turn it in?"
Swan, 7 years old.

Episode 2:
Me: "Get in your car seats! We only have ten minutes to get to school on time!"
El Cangri (4 years old) was fumbling with the car seat buckles while I did his sister's in a few seconds.
He opened his eyes wide, full of wonder and admiration.
Then he said, "Mom! You're super fast! You're like a... like a Pink Flash!"
(I was wearing a pink hoodie).

Episode 3:
Before naptime I went to Chubbers' room to tidy things up.
There were a lot of books and plastic animals scattered on the floor.
I started singing the "Clean-up song" and calling El Cangri to help out. The mess was mostly his.
He replied grinning from ear to ear, "Okay Mom. Let me get my wand..."
He proceeded to wave a plastic Harry Potter wand and throw things on my face. He said, "I keep missing. This wand doesn't work!"

Episode 4:
Right before bedtime I was telling Gorgeous Boy (9) not to stay up reading because it had been a long day and he had school the next day.
He looked at me in the eye and said, "And please mom, make sure you sleep at least 4 hours. You look tired!"

Episode 5:
Swan to me, "Mom! I'm so happy!!!!!! You're pregnant!"
Me: "No, I'm just a little fat."
Swan slinking away to her room, "Sorry."

LTUE2010 Symposium

2010-01-23T14:25:00.002-07:00

February 11-13 BYU will be hosting The Marion K. “Doc” Smith Symposium on Science Fiction & Fantasy. There are special guests of the caliber of Brandon Mull, James Dashner, Nathan Hale, and Brandon Sanderson, among many others.
For a detailed schedule of events, click here. One more thing: did I say it was free?
Well, it is! I hope I can make it. It looks fabulous!

Writers' Conferences

2010-01-21T20:56:00.000-07:00

Last year I attended the Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers Workshop which was hosted by BYU. This year it will take place on a different venue, the Waterford School in Sandy. There are several sessions offered in the mornings, and the presenters will be:

Picture Book with Bonny Becker
Picture Book with Kristyn Crow
Chapter Book with Mike Knudson
Novel for Intermediate/Advanced Writers* with Sara Zarr
Novel for Intermediate/Advanced Writers* with Alane Ferguson
Contemporary Novel with Ann Dee Ellis
Beginning Novel—for those working on their first novels—with Emily Wing Smith
Fantasy/Sci Fi Novel with Brandon Mull
Fantasy/Sci Fi Novel with Dave Wolverton, aka David Farland
Beginning Class in Writing for Young Readers** with Cheri Pray Earl and Rick Walton

The afternoon sessions are bound to be incredible too. Last year I signed up a couple of weeks before the conference. All the spots for the full day workshops were filled and I only attended the afternoon sessions which were very informative and helpful too. Registration just opened for this year's conference, and I'm planning on signing up this weekend so I can reserve my spot.

I'm also attending the LDS Storymakers Conference which will take place at the Marriot Hotel in Provo. One of my talented critique group partners, Jaime Theler, is responsible for organizing this conference. She will also be presenting a workshop.

If you're in this area in April for the LDS Storymakers conference or in June for the Writing and Illustring for Young Readers Workshop sign up now. You won't regret it! And let me know if you do. It would be a lot of fun to meet virtual friends in real life. Last year when I attended my first conference, I felt I belonged to a group of very talented people who shared a passion with me: the love of words and stories. Writing doesn't have to be such a lonely affair after all.

The Story Siren 2010 Debut Author Challenge

2010-01-19T16:45:00.001-07:00

The Story Siren
is holding wonderful contest to read books by debut authors in 2010. I'm looking forward to:
1. Paranormalcy, by Kirsten Whit
2. Wolves, Boys and Other Things That Might Kill Me by Kristen Chandler
3. Nevermore by Kelly Creagh
4. Nightshade by Andrea Cremer
5. Tell Me A Secret by Holly Cupala
6. Mistwood by Leah Cypess
7. Hex Hall by Rachel Hawkin
8. Guardian of the Dead by Karen Healey
9. Shadow Hills by Anastasia Hopcus
10. A Love Story: Starring My Dead Best Friend by Emily Horner
11. The Secret Year by Jennifer Hubbard
12. Losing Faith by Denise Jaden
13. All Unquiet Things by Anna Jarzab
14. Claire de Lune by Christine Johnson
15. The Ghost and the Goth by Stacey Kade
16. Iron King by Julie Kagawa
17. Harmonic Feedback by Tara Kelly

There are so many wonderful books coming out this year, that I don't know how I'll find the time to read them all or finish my novel. Oh! I know! I just won't sleep at all, after all, the lousy two hours I get a night aren't doing anything for me now. I'll do without them too :-)

So, if you want to support new authors, click on the link and sign up on The Story Siren contest. It will be so much fun!

Nathan Bransford - Literary Agent: Guest Blog Week: One, Two, Three, Five, Four

2010-01-19T12:20:00.000-07:00

I just read this post by Bryan on Nathan's blog and it illuminated my day, gave me strength to keep working on these revisions. Beautiful post. Read it.
Nathan Bransford - Literary Agent: Guest Blog Week: One, Two, Three, Five, Four

Help Haiti Recover

2010-01-13T22:44:00.000-07:00

Here's a link to The Ellen Degeneres Show homepage with several charities that are accepting donations to help the people of Haiti during this difficult time.
The news outlets talk about close to 500,00 possible fatalities. 500,000 people.
Help Haiti Recover - The Ellen DeGeneres Show

Doctors Without Borders is accepting donations as well and the Utah Channel 4 has a link to the LDS charities page.
$5, $10 is such a little amount, but if we all donate, a lot of good can be done. And if you can't donate money, or time to volunteer, prayers are always accepted.

Trust

2010-01-12T14:53:00.000-07:00

I'm always humbled when a person trusts me. When at the pool I tell my Chubbers, "Jump!" she closes her eyes and jumps into my arms. If I tell El Cangri, "I'm staying all night beside you," and then he wakes up to find me sleeping soundly in my own bed, he feels betrayed and unloved.
I treasure this confidence my kids have in me because I know that there's nothing sadder than loving someone you can't trust.
Other times I'm in shock at how trusting and afraid of offending others people are, especially in Utah.
Right before Christmas, I was at the pool observing the kids' swimming lesson. A young woman called my attention and said, "I want to go swimming with my husband and two other kids. Can I leave my baby beside you?"
Before I could say "Yes" or "No" she swam away. The baby was a precious little girl, just a few weeks old. She slept the whole time I watched her. I didn't mind looking after her. The thing that bothered me A LOT was that when it was time for me to leave, I couldn't find the mom. By the time my kids were begging me to go change them, I saw the mom playing with her older kids; she thanked me and went on swimming. The baby was left sleeping in her carseat.

Maybe I'm too overprotective, too insanely paranoid of where my kids are and who's watching after them, but I wish I had said something to her. I'm sure the little girl will grow and have a beautiful, long life, but I shudder when I read the news (online) and learn of so many little ones who are missing. Some are missing by accident, others by neglect, because no one was taking care of them.
My children are the greatest gift I've been given. I strive daily to be the best I can be just because of them, and when I fall short of my goal of being kind and patient, they always have a forgiving smile for me.
They trust me to protect them, and that's what I intend to do. I'm sorry if anyone becomes offended by this paranoia I suffer; I especially apologize to my children for not being able to ride their bikes in the neighborhood unsupervised, or spending the night at a friend's house. I just love them too much.

Shooting Stars: Suzette and Bethany's Wicked-Awesome-Prizes Contest

2010-01-04T23:22:00.000-07:00

Everyone should check out this great contest!!!
Shooting Stars: Suzette and Bethany's Wicked-Awesome-Prizes Contest

Good things come to those who wait

2009-12-25T21:38:00.000-07:00

Christmas is all about the kids. It's about them getting to their Nutcracker practices and having their moment of glory performing on stage. It's about them staying up late watching Christmas movies and overdosing on sugar. It's about the kids receiving presents and being so ecstatic about Christmas they can't even sleep on Christmas Eve Eve. But I know that for some children, Christmas is not only about receiving, but about giving.
This year my 9 year-old son had a birthday party just a few days before Christmas Eve. He received one of the best presents a little boy could get: a box of pink, sweet smelling, sticky chewing gum. I was surprised when on Christmas Eve he announced he had presents for the family, and even more surprised to see that in each of his siblings' stockings he had placed a packet of gum. He had nothing left for himself, but the smile on his face showed that giving presents to others left a more satisfying high than sugar.

Several years ago I used to help in our Church's primary class, of which my mom was the president. There was a little girl whose name I can't remember, but whose face is branded on my mind. Her family was very poor, but the Sunday before Christmas Eve, she wanted to give my mom a present. Right after the class, I saw the slender, ash-blond haired girl walk up to my mom with a little package in her hands. The package was wrapped in newspaper, but the contents were more valuable than diamonds. My mom opened the package, and inside
she found a fragrant, fresh roll of bread.
To this day, that piece of bread is the best present my mom has ever received.
Children can feel the spirit of Christmas, even when they don't know what it is they're feeling. They naturally want to act according to the whispering of such spirit. The lessons they learn when they follow that voice are learned forever.
I remember a particular Christmas in my childhood. I don't remember how old I was, even though I couldn't have been older than ten. I also remember that year had been very hard for our family, and there wasn't much money for presents. We were four children in our family, and even though we were all quite young, the three older kids knew it was our parents who left the presents under the tree. Our youngest brother though, the one who's five years younger than I am, still believed in Papa Noel, and talked incessantly about the bicycle he wanted for Christmas.
I don't remember my parents' asking us to understand, or if we ever took a conscious decision about it, but on that Christmas Eve, when the sound of fireworks was deafening the barrio, there were four very happy children looking at one bicycle underneath the tree.
That hot summer night, there was an ecstatic little boy on the apartment building's parking lot as he took turns with his brother and sisters riding the bike of his dreams.
We still talk about that Christmas, my siblings and I, and even though there are many details we don't remember, we can still feel the love for our brother, the happiness at watching his smile that couldn't stretch any wider on his little face.
My parents could never give me a bike, but they gave me love, a family, an education. But still, I never had a bike of my own. Until this morning. When Jeff and I were passing around the presents for our kids, he kept giving me packages of athletic gear. All the time I was thinking that "Santa" must really think I need to work out, until I opened a package that contained a shiny red helmet. Jeff walked to one of the kid's room and came back with the most beautiful bike I've ever seen. For me.
My kids were jumping and cheering and clapping, and I thought of my ten year-old self and told her, "Just wait. Things will be so awesome in the future!"
This evening after dinner with family was over, I rode my brand new bike, in the semidarkness of the winter night, the frigid air burning my face. I felt like a kid again, and Christmas is really all about the children. God's children, no matter how old they are. It's all about one particular Child, who was born in the humblest of circumstances, He, was is the creator and Lord of the creation. Happy Birthday baby Jesus. Thanks for the gift of giving, and receiving, and waiting, and believing.

Is it really almost Christmas?

2009-12-13T22:37:00.001-07:00

We've had our Christmas tree since the day after Thanksgiving, and it's been snowing like crazy over the last few days, but I feel like Halloween was last week, and I barely glimpsed at Thanksgiving.
It might have a lot to do with my being completely immersed in my writing project, which is still not finished, but which I'm in love with :-)

Maybe it's because our Christmas tree is downstairs, as are the stockings and the nativity. Still, when I go check on the kids while they play, I can't help but smile when I see the tiny figurine of a very pregnant Mary riding a donkey and accompanied by Joseph, as they make their way to the stable.
The two older kids are performing in the Nutcracker this year, and their rehearsal schedule is insane. AND, I had the brilliant idea of signing up the little ones for daily swimming lessons. Of course, as soon as classes started, they both got an awful cough. But oh well, they're loving it!
I've updated the blog music and background, and even if I'm not posting everyday, I don't want to lose the habit of updating the blog.
I'm grateful for my kids who keep the Christmas spirit alive, even when our schedule is so busy.
On Friday, Chubbers was too sick for swimming lessons, and when I was cleaning the kitchen I noticed she was sitting, quiet as a mouse (VERY out of character for her), looking out the window.
I asked her, "What are you looking at?"
And she sighed, and without looking at me answered, "Christmas."
I want to open my eyes too, and my heart, and see Christmas just as she does, as all of my kids do.
See the magic of the most wonderful time of the year.

I did it again!

2009-11-24T23:16:00.001-07:00

I'm still working on my novel because even after more than 50,000 words there is still a lot I need to say, but I reached my goal, a whole week ahead of schedule. It feels wonderful!

Things my kids say that make me cry, laugh, or think (not in that order)

2009-11-19T00:32:00.000-07:00

I always want to write down the things my kids say, and I never have pen and paper handy when they deliver their shiniest pearls. I often forget; the feeling of wonderment at their thinking skills, or sense of humor is all that is left at the end of the day. I've found myself telling Jeff, "I don't remember what Swan said, but she made me laugh," more times than I can remember. Do you notice a pattern here; I forget things.
Well, for some mysterious reason these following things are imprinted on my mind. Enjoy:

1. Me angry because he's banging on the table with a car: Cangri, 1, 2 ... Cangri stops what he's doing.
Gorgeous looks up from homework and asks: Mom, what happens when you reach 3?
Me: *Silence*

2. Me: Chubbers, where's Dandi the dog?
Chubbers, lying in the bathtub surrounded by bubbles: Hmmm. In the drier... (that's after we looked for the dog all over the house. We could hear her bark, but we couldn't find her. Finally Jeff saw her in the drier. Imagine her little face peering through the glass, eyes full of hope we wouldn't turn the drier on. "
AAHHH! But that's not all.
Following the conversation is El Cangri. He hears Chubbers had put the dog in the drier, and he asks, eyes sparkling with malice (yes people, it was malice): Did it go fast????!!!!!!

3. Me (in the driver's seat picking up the kids from school the day I got braces): Hi babes!
Babes: AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! You look like The Other Mother!!!! (from Coraline)
Me thinks: Yeah, I look great with braces.

4. Kids watched Snowwhite. (I don't know how to spell it!!!!! Too lazy to Google). They're singing the Hi Ho song while picking up stuffed animals in Cangri's room downstairs and taking them upstairs to Chubbers room. I assume the stuffed animals were the gems, I guess. Well, they sing the Hi Ho song, including the whistling! to the Jai Ho song from Slumdog Millionaire.

5. Swan to friend: Would you rather kiss a boy or die?
Friend thinks and says: Hmmmm, I guess "Kiss a boy." But ONLY on the cheek.
Swan: Yeaahhhhh. ONLY on the cheeks.

6. Swan: If you want to be a rockstar, you have to shave your pits.

7. Swan doing a puppet show. On the 15th minute of her monologue, she says: And they will continue tomorrow.
Jeff and I: Phewwwww!!!
Swan: Cock-a-doodle-doo. It's the next day!

8. Swan on the drive to ballet lessons. She was looking out the window and gazing at the sky: Sometimes I think we're God's toys. He plays with us like we play with dolls. And then he goes take a nap.
Me thinking about the little girl NC who was missing and then found dead: *nod* *nod* I know exactly how you feel.

9: Cangri at the school holiday bazaar waiting to get a picture with Santa: That's not Santa. That's Mr Wright (one of the teachers) Santa. I want to go talk to the other one with the glasses (He's talking about the guy at the mall where we get the kids' pictures with Santa).

10. Gorgeous closing his eyes tight for his birthday wish. (BTW, I can't believe I have a 9 year old): *whispers*
Later Jeff asked him what he had wished for and he said: For Chubbers and El Cangri to be easier for mom.
Me: *can't speak. Too humbled that he'll "spend" his wish on me*.

They make me crazy, and mad, but mostly, happy. I love these kids!

Day three of NaNo

2009-11-03T23:22:00.000-07:00

The characters have been my friends for almost two years. I wrote a short story, made up so many conversations in my mind, found awesome music to play along, but the characters are not coming out as I had thought they would. Are they better? Worse? Only time will tell. I just know that now the voice of the book is younger (have I been reading too much YA), and that might be because I'm exploring the first person, present POV (Point of View). I'm really excited because I've been able to write everyday, and my count is 7,500 words already. Not too bad for day 3, huh?
I have great hopes for this story. I don't know why, but I feel this one is closer to my heart than the other two. Could it be because it's set in Rosario, Argentina? That might have a lot to do with it. Why is it that even though I've been away for almost 12 years, my thoughts always drift to my childhood, the barrio, the sounds of my youth? Writing this book is like a therapy, and I'm glad to realize that all the feelings I had kept inside are producing happy scenes. But I need some conflict, and that won't take long to come. It just breaks my heart that my characters have to suffer, but I promise I have a great ending in sight. I hope the one I planned two years ago still fits them.

On another note, and as I had promised, here are some Halloween pictures. I hope you like'em.

Happy Halloween!

2009-10-31T15:20:00.000-07:00

This will be a lightening post. We're a couple of hours from the great Halloween festivities. They will mainly involve massive amounts of candy, wild kids, uncontrollable crying when the sugar high subsides, and many high fructose induced nightmares. Other than that, It'll be fun!
I DVR'ed lots of shows. After last year fiasco with Saw V, I'm never renting out a horror movie. What a waste of money and desire to be scared!
I've been getting my dose of fright by reading "The Queen of the Damned," third book in the Vampire Trilogy. I love Lestat, Louis and Armand. My favorite vampires. But please you gorgeous guys (yes, you vampires) don't attempt any contact with me; I'm very happy just reading about you on Halloween.
El Cangri is wearing a Batman outfit that he got for his birthday; Swan is a mermaid, Chubbers is Snow-white (how do you spell it? Two "W's"?), and Gorgeous decided Thursday night, like 6 hours before his school party, that he wanted to be the ghost he saw in the Chasing Fireflies catalog. Since it was impossible for me to get the costume in such a short notice (he's clearly Jeff's and mine son, the procastinator), he agreed to wear long white underwear and a draped sheet. I powdered his exuberant curls, and painted his face. He did look like a ghost. I'll be an Autumn Fairy, and Jeff's still undecided, the procastinator. It's only 3 hours till trick-or-treating!
On Thursday we went to a Halloween store, and El Cangri totally freaked out. The older kids and I were bent over laughing (oh the meanness! But it was funny!) and Chubbers kept yelling, "Leave him alone!" to the many Halloween decorations and props. She extended her little arm, as if stopping the infernal fiends with her chubby little hands. And the voice she made! She sounded so tough. I finally had to give up trying to pay for the hair glitter spray, and I asked the guy dressed as a werewolf to move from the door so that I could leave. I wonder if people thought the store had pay me to have a shrieking child thrashing on the floor because he was so scared. It was funny for me and the older kids, but the little ones were terrified.
As soon as we get a picture with our costumes, I'll post it. For now, Happy Halloween! And be safe! And have fun!

Utah Children's Writers: NaNoWriMo by Yamile Mendez

2009-10-23T14:27:00.000-07:00

I wrote a guest post about NaNoWriMo on the Utah Children's Writers Bog. Take a look!
Utah Children's Writers: NaNoWriMo by Yamile Mendez

Fall Leaves

2009-10-22T11:33:00.000-07:00

Since I posted last time, I have finished my manuscript. It was September 30th, and even though I had to stay until 3 AM, I made myself write, and I finished on the deadline I had set myself.
I'm working hard on edits now. OK, maybe not as hard as I should, but I'm revising my first chapters, and I'm loving it.
I can't believe it's the end of October already. We've had some very cold weather already, but mostly sunny ones, and I love to see my kids playing with the leaves outside. When they run back inside, their little hands are so cold they look purple.
Last week the kids had Fall break, and we went to soccer parties, a pirate place, a pumpkin patch and a maze. We had an Argentine asado with friends we hadn't seen for years. Our kids played together, speaking a mixture of English and Spanish, kicking a soccer ball all over the place.
Having Jeff at home turns my world upside down. Our mornings are lazy, and our evenings a whirlwind of activities.

Since my October has been so relaxed (blog-wise) I know I'll make up for it in November. Both Gorgeous Boy and I are participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). His goal is to write between 3,000 to 6,000 words. That's a lot of words for an 8 year-old, but he's determined to do it. Get this: he's even writing an outline to be prepared come November 1st.

My little cubs are calling for my attention. The sky is blue, but the the air reminds me we're in Autumn. My favorite time of the year.

Just because Nathan is so cool

2009-10-15T21:18:00.000-07:00

I copied him and created my own Wordle.
In essence, I copied and pasted my whole WIP into this website, and it generated a cloud with the words from my story. I wasn't surprised by what I saw. Take a look:

It looks a little iffy because I couldn't generate a code for it and had to scan it. But, I'll make this revelation: my MC's names are...
You guessed! Rosemary and Lucien!

Dream Agent has a contest going

2009-10-15T09:53:00.000-07:00

Nathan, AKA dream agent, has an excellent contest going on. Go check it out:
http://blog.nathanbransford.com/2009/10/3rd-sort-of-annual-stupendously.html
The first time I saw his post there were 840 entries. I read it on my phone, which is not my preferred medium to type, so I waited until I got home. That night there were 1300 entries. I thought, "Well, why would I ever enter? So many wonderful entries!"
The next day, when the entries had climbed to 2000, I thought, "I might as well throw my little grain of salt into the ocean. Who knows? I might get lucky. And since mine will be amongst the last entries, he might remember it easier."
Well, entries are over 2300, and even though the contest ends today, if you want to be daring, go ahead and enter your submission.
I have been so lazy blogging! But my good excuse is that I am deep into revisions for my manuscript which I finished on September 30th. It was the date/goal I had in mind when I started. Even though that night I had to stay until 3 AM I finished it.
I read through it already, and I'm blown away at the amount of work still ahead of me, but I have hope. There are some little gems among those 86,000 words.
Also, I'm already plotting in my head the novel I will write during NaNoWriMo. It's a story that I have been so anxious to tell, that just thinking about it makes me smile.
Kids are in Fall break, and when I take a break from entertaining them, I will sit down and write a proper post. Now, to get ready to go to the pumpkin patch!

The best of liking futbol so much

2009-10-10T17:38:00.000-07:00

So yes, we suffered, like always, like we've come to expect at every game. Martin Parlermo, 37, saved us, the team, Maradona, the country. Here's the link to the goal on the 47' minute of the second half. Seeing Maradona like this makes me wanna cry. Lovely!

The Lost Symbol

2009-10-06T23:27:00.002-07:00

The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I loved this book. The writing was a little choppy at times, and VERY predictable. I guess that after reading the third Robert Langdon book, I've come to recognize some elements Dan Brown uses: suspicious law enforcement officer, a girl to accompany Robert in his adventures, a race to find secret clues. However, I was surprised by the twist at the end, and I'm in awe at the amount of fantastic information Dan Brown used in this story. Just as I wanted to visit Paris to see for myself all the wonderful places described in The Da Vinci Code, or Rome after "Angels...", I now want to go back to Washington DC to see this city with new eyes. In fact, I went to Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland and The Temple Church in London because I was so intrigued by what I had read in the books. There is a treasure trove in DC that I didn't know existed! I didn't learn that at school.
I think the greatest achievement of this book (for me) is that I want to learn more about the history of our country, and the architecture, and the men who saw a marvelous society and whose vision we've lost.
In the religious aspect, I can see how this book is an eye-opener for people. I liked that he said that every religion has things that outsiders view as strange. Being a Mormon, I can confirm that aspects of my religion ARE very strange to outsiders. I loved the message of this book, and they way Brown tells it. It's everything JJ Benitez's books should and could have been, but fell short of. I love the mixture of fiction and facts. Just the perfect formula to keep myself entertained and informed at the same time.
I definitely recommend it.

View all my reviews >>

My new comfort movie?

2009-09-27T22:42:00.002-07:00

Doesn't it look incredible? What a year for movies! I can't wait.

The Bookologist: ARC + SWAG Giveaway for The Dark Divine! EDITED

2009-09-20T20:38:00.000-07:00

Check out this great contest and book giveaway. I hope I win something!

The Bookologist: ARC + SWAG Giveaway for The Dark Divine! EDITED

How I was asked to do my first ever school visit as a writer and how it went

2009-09-16T21:50:00.000-07:00

Last week, I received a very shocking email from the reading specialist at a charter school in SLC. He explained that since September is Hispanic Heritage Month, the school was participating in the International Reading Association's Read-In Chain, and as a Hispanic writer, they would love to have me go to the school and read to the kids. When I first read this I panicked. After all, I'm not even published, and I write YA novels, but Jeff said, "Why not? You'll love it!" So I said yes.
I was very nervous preparing what to read, what books to take along with me. I realized that there are not a lot of Hispanic authors who write in Spanish for children, and that gave an inspiration for after my current work-in-progress is ready.
I chose the Juan Ramon Jimenez's classic "Platero y Yo" because all through my childhood that little book was an inspiration for me, and was responsible for my having fallen in love with lyric prose.
I also chose "La Ciudad de las Bestias," first book of the series for children by the international acclaimed Isabel Allende. Also, very humbly, I included two of my short stories: "The Newborn Fairy," and "Teenage Warrior."
My kids were very proud that their mama was a guest speaker (reader) at a school, and they announced this to every person they talked to today. They're my #1 PR people. When I'm published, I'm going to hire them to be my marketing directors.
After a sickening slow commute (there were two traffic accidents on the way), I arrived at the school, and I was trying not to pass out of nervousness, but I met the reading specialist, who was so very nice, and all the teachers were very kind to me.
I went to the library, and I read my stories and excerpts from the books I had brought to the younger classes. The kindergartens were together, and then I read to first, second and third grade. All the children were so respectful and attentive while I read, that I tried to do my best to provide a good experience for them. The kids had made a welcome poster and flowers, and they sang a welcome song in Spanish while they waved the Argentine flags they had made (*tears*). They asked very intelligent questions, like where I get my ideas from, when my books are being published, if I write everything that goes on in my life, how old I was, etc.
Then it was time for the older classes, and I went to three different classrooms to read my stories. The school is a Spanish immersion academy, so especially with the older kids I spoke Spanish. There were several children, of the younger and older classes, who told me, "I'm from Uruguay!" "I"m from Argentina too!"
In every class, in every group I met, I saw intelligent, kind, beautiful children who have such a bright future ahead of them, and for whom my visit may have been a source of inspiration. I know that if only one of those children was inspired to read and write, and to never give up, then that visit is more than worth the nerves. For me it meant so much! That they would ask me to go and talk to them is a very humbling and touching experience. I know that every time doubts assault me, I will see those children's faces looking at me with admiration (!), and that after today, I'll never be able to give up my dream of becoming a true author, meaning, having my work published.
So my next step is to continue working, finishing my work-in-progress before November because I already have a spectacular idea for NaNoWriMo.
And now, I'll enjoy some of the delicious chocolate that the school presented to me as a gift. They're all mine; I even hid them in my closet!

Wisdom from Dragon Tales

2009-09-15T00:19:00.001-07:00

Today the babies were watching the PBS show Dragon Tales. I love the part where the children get together and say "I wish, I wish, with all my heart, to fly with dragons, in a land apart." In today's episode the kids were trying to teach one of the dragons to play soccer. The dragon whined and whined that he couldn't do it, so the Puerto Rican kid I had never seen in the show before said, "My grandma used to say 'You try and try until you do it right.'" Or something along those lines. I don't know why that simple phrase struck a chord with me. It may be because Juan Martin del Potro was playing the final of the US Open against Roger Federer, the greatest tennis player of all times and I had not much faith he could win. Or because I was feeling overwhelmed with all the things I had to do, and I didn't have the energy to start. The thing is that it touched my heart.
I'm convinced that the most uplifting examples usually come from children. They still have the perseverance, the optimism to keep trying until they reach their goal, whether it's sleeping in mammy's bed, getting a new toy, or making it to the Talento Argentino Finals like this little boy:

Yes, I'm homesick for my country. I've been gone far too long, but what I wanted to point out from this video is the emotion, the passion that Nahuel Ruiz puts into his art. I wish I had that talent to put so much emotion in my stories.
Another great example is Hollie Steel, a little girl who auditioned for Britain Got Talent:

No one thought this little girl was out of the ordinary, just like little Nahuel seemed like a normal little boy from northern Argentina. What made them stand out was the strength of their souls, the passion they put into their talent.
I often tell my son, who wants to be a professional soccer player/writer/chef, that some people are born with the gift to perform an art form or a sport. Others are born with the will to develop that talent. I believe that the latter group is the one that truly succeeds. I believe that if you really want something hard enough, it can become true. We, adults, need more reminding than little kids, but we can still do it. I'm just grateful I have four little ones who even though they drain me of my energy, they also give me so much more in return: a desire to learn, to be better, to give them a good example. I hope one day my words may have a fraction of the talent Nahuel or Hollie have. I hope.

In the errand of the fairies

2009-09-09T22:59:00.001-07:00

Swan has a fairy friend who lives in our backyard, in a secret garden that we have. Only it's not secret, but it's a secluded little corner around a beautiful hawthorn tree (sooooo magical!) and several rose bushes. That's the exact place where a patch of poison ivy keeps growing too, but that's another story. Swan leaves presents and letters to her fairy every night. A few times, I've watched the sky darken and I wondered how in the world I was going to be brave enough to go out at night, in the middle of the trees to collect the offerings and leave something. Other times, I just forgot about the whole thing. But one particular night, Swan had prepared a very elaborate gift for the fairy, and I just had to make the effort of going out in the dark. I called Jeff to keep me company and talk to me while I was out in the windy night, and I left a letter and a chocolate for Swan from the fairy. The next day, Swan was so happy that I was worried if what I was doing (pretending the fairy existed) was right.
I figure, we play Santa Claus every Christmas, and just because we don't see them, it doesn't mean fairies aren't real, right? So I play along. One day she will find out, and I hope she realizes how much I love her. Because for me going out by myself in the dark is a sacrifice. I know, crazy, but it's me. Maybe the real fairies see me walk by them with a look of horror on my face and laugh their little heads off. I still want to see one. But in the daylight, OK? Nothing non-human at night. Yes, I read WAY TOO MUCH YA fantasy!

Catching Fire

2009-09-06T21:56:00.004-07:00

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Welllllll... I'm furious at Suzanne Collins for writing such an amazing book, for the wonderful (!) characters, amazing conflict and story. I'm scared for #3 because she didn't give Gregor from "Gregor the Overlander" a good happy ending. I hope she takes pity on Katniss, Gale (Sigh!!!!!!) and Peeta (another Sighhhh!!!) and gives all of them a happy ending. I hate that I have to wait one whole year for the next book! I don't know how I'll be able to wait. Hopefully I'll be able to snatch an ARC from someone next year.
What an incredible writer! The best I've read all year!

View all my reviews >>

My kids rock

2009-09-04T10:58:00.000-07:00

My kids love all kinds of music. Recently I was putting away some of my son's books, and The Dairy of a Wimpy Kid (the one kids write in, as a journal) fell open and I read the first line. It said:
What are your favorite songs?
Answers by Gorgeous Boy:
1. Beat it (Michael Jackson)
2. You give love a bad name (I think it's actually "Shot to the Heart" by Bon Jovi)
3. Cemeteries of London (Coldplay)
I had to smile. Being the product of a multi-cultural family, they listen to anything.
Last week Depeche Mode came to town, and since NONE of my friends answered my Facebook request for a companion, I took Gorgeous and Swan.
They had a blast. At times I enjoyed looking at their faces more than at the band. This is also because even though we had amazing floor seats, when you are only 5'1' it's a matter of fate for Gigantor to be in front of you. I had a stiff neck the next day from craning my head to the sides to catch a glimpse of the band, but it was worth it.
Swan laughed and laughed at the crazy "old" people jumping up and down at the sound of the music. And when the band sang "Wrong" she said "ROAR!!!! We had a ton of fun.
I know we pass on to our kids not only our religious beliefs and customs, but everything else, like a love of reading, writing, and of course, musical influences. It was the kids' first time seeing a world renown band. Now I can't wait for Coldplay to come back (Jeff and I just saw them in December) and Keane (whom I missed in June).

River Dance and Flamenco

2009-09-01T10:41:00.001-07:00

My great-grandfather was Palestinian. No one in the family knows what his real name was, but my dad called him "Abuelo Emilio." No one ever found his documents stating the real name, or no one was able to read them in Arabic. He learned Spanish, and lived and died like an Argentine. I always felt fascinated about that part of my legacy that not a person in our HUGE family knew anything about (there are 25 original cousins, and several little cousins now). My grandfather, my dad and his four brothers, myself and just a handful of the great-granchildren inherited the dark olive skin, slanted eyes, dark hair, and the boys (thanks Father, oh thanks it was just the boys) the hooked noses. In Rosario there is a Festival of Nations, and most of the immigrant communities set up pavilions where they showcase the culture, food, dances and art of their motherlands. I wanted to learn Arabic dancing so bad when I was little, but I never did. There still is something in the lament of the guitar, or the particular rhythm of Arabic music that calls to my blood. I mentioned guitar, and I get the same feeling when I listen to Flamenco music. It must be the generations of Gypsies calling me from my Spanish genes.
Yesterday my daughter, Swan, had her first Irish Dance lesson. For about two years she has been begging for Irish Dance classes, and since one of the best studios in the state is like three minutes from home, I signed her up. I love seeing her stretch and prance in her little thin legs. Such determination and concentration in her eyes, such desire to learn and do her best. I wonder where she got the notion of Irish dancing. We love everything Irish in this home, but not a drop of Irish blood runs in my veins. In Jeff's family, I'm sure it does--all mixed up with the Puerto Ricanness of his. His mom said that they have some Irish in her family. After all, she is red-headed and is called Pat. So there you go.
I see my daughter being so drawn to Irish culture, and I wonder what messages we carry in our genes that direct the course of our lives. I've embedded two youtube clips, one from The Lord of the Dance, and then another one from Carmen Amaya, one the greatest Flamenco dancers of all times. They're so different from each other, but at the same time there is so much similarity between them. I think the guitar, and zapateo, and foot work, are all embedded into humankind in one way of another. Call it bulerias, Riverdance, tap dancing... they are all manifestations of men and women's desire to express their feelings through dance. In sadness or happiness, in war or celebrations.
My daughter is not learning Arabic dancing or Flamenco, but she's still following the call in her blood. I just hope that one of my boys will inherit the Argentine futbol playing feet and not the Puerto Rican ones. If they inherit a Puerto Rican trait, I hope it's the baseball arms, or their love of art, of music and good food. Such a mix in my kids' genes. I hope they got the best of all worlds.

Bloody Bookaholic: The Mega Palooza Contest

2009-09-01T09:56:00.001-07:00

You just have to check out this awesome contest! Free books!

Bloody Bookaholic: The Mega Palooza Contest

Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer

2009-08-28T00:00:00.003-07:00

Imagine, if you can, being a teenager, in Argentina during the political turbulence of the eighties and nineties. Those Argentine winters can seep into your soul, and if you love to read, like I did (and still do) it's almost natural that the melancholy words of Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer will become the echo of your soul. I don't remember when I read him for the first time, but ever since, and even though I don't especially love poetry, he became my favorite writer of all times.

When I took a Spanish literature class at BYU, I wrote a report on him, and I said that dying young, and of tuberculosis, made him the epitome of the Romanticism man: desolate by unrequited love, poor, sick, romantic to the last fiber of his soul, and exceptionally talented in the arts.

Poor Gustavo; he had a harsh childhood, and was never happy with the woman he loved. Instead, the woman whom he married cheated on him, his brother and friend Valeriano died too, and it was natural that he would quickly follow. He was only 34 years old when Death took him.

Here are two of his most famous poems:

The dark swallows will return

their nests upon your balcony, to hang.

And again with their wings upon its windows,

Playing, they will call.

But those who used to slow their flight

your beauty and my happiness to watch,

Those, that learned our names,

Those... will never come back!

And then perhaps, his most renown poem:

What is poetry? you say as you fix

on my pupil your pupil in blue.

What is poetry! You're asking me?

Poetry is you.

When I am writing my novel, his words from his Leyendas are always in the back of my mind, especially "Green Eyes." When you read my book, you will know why.

I just barely bought my own copy of his Rimas y Leyendas (Rhymes and Legends), and even though my dear Gustavo was never famous in life, after death he became one of the most celebrated authors of the Spanish language. I hope not to share your fate Gus, but I thank you for the musicality of your words, for the feelings you put into paper, and that almost 200 hundred years later, still have the power to arise the same feelings in others. That is pure genius; that is true immortality.

Is Sea World Overrated?

2009-08-26T00:00:00.039-07:00

When we were in TX, I was delighted to find out that there was a Sea World in San Antonio. At the beginning of the summer we had thought Jeff would stay in Orlando until August, so the kids already had plans of going to Disneyworld and Sea World every day. So, knowing we could still go to Sea World, albeit San Antonio, made the kids, and me, very happy.
San Antonio is about two and a half hours from Corpus Christi, so when it was time to return home, I booked the flight from SA so we could visit Sea World.

It was a 99+ degree day in SA, and it was crowded. Imagine a legion of tortured looking adults following their delighted offspring into Shamu land. An adult ticket was $56.99 plus tax, and a child's ticket $48.99 plus tax. So, do the math. For our family it was $309.94 plus tax, just for admission. Ah! I almost forgot! Parking was $25.00 for VIP, which meant you got to park in the first 5 parking rows. Of course, the only available spot we found was in row 5.
But we were going to have fun! We rented a double stroller for $15.00, and I'm so glad we did because it was so hot, and so crowded, the stroller was a life saver for me and the little ones.

As soon as we went in, there was a show. It was Viva! and it featured an MC clown, who was very funny, and aerialists and synchronized swimmers. It was a Cirque du Soleil kind of show--throw in a couple baby belugas and dolphins. The kids liked it, the venue was very nice (covered, a must in such weather), but VERY short. It was less than half an hour.

Then, we ran to catch the Shamu show. The walk was a torture, and if I was tanned before, by the end of the day I looked copper. We got some lemon sherbet to cool down a little, and it was $4 the pint. Water was $2. The Shamu show was very emotive. Those wonderful animals are majestic, and the kids shrieked with delight every time we got soaked when the whales splashed the audience. It was a cool show. Again, very short, about half an hour.
By the end of the show we were starving, so we went to a barbecue place inside the park, and when Jeff and the boys came back with the food, Swan and I looked at each other and rolled out eyes. That's what you get when you are a picky eater. And I had thought you couldn't go wrong with barbecue ... but the chicken was rawish, and I could not force myself to eat it. So I bought chocolate popsicles, at $4 each. That's $24 for our family.
After lunch the older kids wanted to go on a ride, so Jeff took them to Rio Loco. The little ones and I walked to the kiddy pool in the Lost Lagoon section. The babies loved playing in the water, and I tried not to think of the many un-diapered bottoms soaking in the innocent looking water. I walked over to the waves pool, but it was crowded like a can of sardines, and I was not looking forward to standing shoulder to shoulder with a million other people.

Two hours went by, and when I started worrying about Jeff and the kids, I saw them coming and we miraculously met. Jeff didn't have his cell phone. Divine providence led us to each other. They waited in line for two hours for a seven minute ride.We could have bought the Quick Queue pass which costs $19.99 per person. We chose waiting.

We walked around the park, stopping by the dolphin pool and the Clysdale Hamlet. We terrorized Chubbers at the Sharks/Coral Reef, and by six o'clock we called it a day.
So we spent about $400.00 for a day at Sea World. I know in my kids' mind the day will become more and more magical as time goes by, but Jeff and I look at each other and wonder, "Was that it?" Total disappointment. Have you ever been to a major attraction like Sea World? What are your thoughts?

Read Bree

2009-08-23T13:05:00.000-07:00

Read Bree

I just came across this blog, and I think this book will be amazing. Oh! She has a great contest going on, so go ahead and check it out!

Like a dream

2009-08-23T11:40:00.005-07:00

This last week the kids went back to school. They were so excited they kept waking up all night to check I hadn't slept in. I also doubted myself, and I set up about three different alarm clocks in case one or two didn't work.
I got up on time to make a good warm breakfast, and the kids dressed in their uniforms. Smiles reaching from ear to ear.
I missed them a lot during the day, especially because the little ones were so utterly bored without the older siblings that they drove me crazy all week. The only good part is that I get to take a nap again because since we get up so early, after lunch the babies are exhausted (my babies who are almost 3 and 5. Pathetic!). By now, we have our little routine again. School, lunch, nap, futbol, or ballet (which starts next Tuesday), Irish dancing (starts tomorrow) and piano. There are also church related activities, like Scouts, and all of a sudden my calendar is full of colored little blocks. My main activity is driving, but things should get better once my assistant arrives next weekend (Jeff, that's you in case you didn't notice).
Swan also had a birthday this week, and she looks and acts so grownup my eyes tear up over anything (and that's apart from the allergies which are killing me this year). I found her listening to Keane on an ipod (it's a family one that she appropriated) and singing the melancholy "Atlantic" with a thread of voice (" ♪♬♫I Don't wanna be old!!!! ♪♬♫).
She told me, "I have this feeling inside me, and then I thought, and yeah! It's happiness!" My pint-sized teenage daughter!
We celebrated at my parents, and she had a blast. Her party won't be for a couple of weeks (she wanted Jeff to be here) and I'm dreading making a cake. She wants a mermaid, and after last year's dragon's success, I don't think I'll be able to top that.
Friday was the first futbol practice of the season, and with my BBF G. we have an unspoken understanding: she brings the mate, I bring the treats. She brings treats as well, but mainly she brings the mate because I drink it sweet. You are converting me though G. I've only been putting sugar to the first one and then to every other. That's better, huh?
Well, Friday we were running late, like always, and I debated between taking everybody along into the supermarket for a package of cookies or ... and then an idea came to mind. Gorgeous and Swan could go! So I parked by the store entrance, and gave them a $10 bill. You should've seen them, walking so proudly into the store, hand in hand. They came back running, with two packages of Keebler's chocolate chip and fudge sandwich, and a box of ice-cubes gum for me. Gorgeous was ready to pocket the change, but he gave it back promptly when I asked for it.
I remember going to don Luis' store when I was five (it wasn't a supermarket. Just the front room in some one's house), and I could read, but not my mom's handwriting. So I asked her to read it to me, and I memorized it, and then at the store I pretended I was reading, and the old man and his wife were so amazed it scared me for a minute.
How bittersweet that even though my kids have a much better childhood than I did, they won't have the memories of going to the kiosco for candy behind my back, or to the store for bread and "facturas" in the morning.
The kids are growing, and I feel like Enos in the Book of Mormon when he says, "life has passed us like a dream." The days are so short and packed with activities, and at night, when there's only silence interrupted by sleepy sighs, I wonder where my babies are, and who those big kids who look so much like Jeff and me when we were little are.

Here's a video of Swan's birthday party (the unofficial one). I couldn't resist!

Perseid Meteor Shower

2009-08-14T20:21:00.003-07:00

Night before last I stayed up until after 1 o'clock writing. I had a sudden rush of inspiration because I had been reading "How Green Was My Valley" from the uber-amazing Richard Llewellyn, and how can you not be inspired after reading such words? Well, the thing is that the night before, and all that night, every time I opened my Google page, I saw the Google "doodle" of the Perseid Meteor Shower. Every time I see something like that I think, "How cool it would be to go out and see this and that." But I NEVER do it. Wednesday night though, I went to wake Gorgeous Boy, who had fallen asleep reading the third Percy Jackson book. The book had landed open on his face. I thought, "How fitting!" because the Perseids are named after the Perseus constellation. Percy--Perseus, get it? Perseus is actually Percy's real name. OK, enough ranting. The thing is that my boy would not wake up, and instead Swan Princess opened her sleepy eyes, and looked at me hard, trying to make out if I was a dream (I hope not a nightmare) or if it was my real me. So I invited her to come along (you could not pay me enough to go out at night by myself!). She jumped from her bed, and grabbed the first stuffed animal she could, and followed me along the dark house.
We opened the door, and the world looked so different by the light of the silver moon shining from behind the house. I had brought along an over sized pillow ( a flat round cushion), and we lay waiting for the shooting stars a coupple of steps from the front porch. Our blankets kept us warm in spite of the wind that blew hard and chilly. Then, I heard her intake of breath, and we both said at the same time, "Look at that!" as the golden streak of light vanished into the darkness. Soon, there were too many shootings stars to count. And as it always is when you are watching the sky, out into infinity, she asked me that if God had made the stars and the worlds, then who made Him, and that Maker, and the next, forever and ever. I answered that I still get a headache when I think about that.
We saw several yellow shooting stars, and then with a "Whoosh!" a radiant blue that seemed burnt into my retina because when I close my eyes, I can still see it.
Sometimes the wind blew a certain way and moved the tree branches and the bushes, and I thought I saw things that weren't there at all, and my heart would jump without notice, and I would feel my cheeks burn by the adrenaline rush. But then, feeling her tiny, fragile hand in mine, I felt peace again, looking into the sky, and seeing the bits of light crossing above us.
"Mami, I love you." She said, and hugged me. That was the most miraculous thing all night. That united under the expanse, feeling our smallness, we could also feel so important in another's eyes. My daughter. My shining star. I hope her light never vanishes like the Perseids. I know she brightens my days with her ideas and the things she says, her knowing eyes, her simple smiles. That small little girl, with such a sensitive, perceptive soul.
It was but an hour in our lives, but it will remain in my heart forever.

The curse of the wasp

2009-08-10T21:40:00.002-07:00

This picture was taken last night, after his visit to the ER. He's trying to smile ...

I had never been stung by a bee until about 5 years ago. I was at the park with Gorgeous and Swan; it was just the two of them back then, and they were having a blast in the playground. I was reading (what else?), and I felt something on my leg, inside my jeans. This was September, and the weather had already turned cooler. It was a wonderful early Autumn afternoon, and all of a sudden, I felt fire burning my knee. I knew, I don't know how, that a bee had gotten inside my jeans and had stung me. I bunched up my jeans to crush the bee, and then I rolled my pants. There it was, the black and yellow culprit all smashed up. I wasn't allergic to the bite, and ever since that time, every Summer I have an incident with either wasps or bees.

There was the one time the kids were playing in the backyard and Swan was viciously stung in her armpit (!) three times. That same week J., G's son, was playing at home and was stung by a wasp too. The only time in his life he's ever been stung.

Last Summer Chubbers was playing barefooted, and she stepped on a bee, which of course, stung her too.

Ah! But the best (or worst depending how you see it) was when the guy who does our yard was pruning the bushes which had grown "preternaturally" (like Anne Rice likes to say) and was stung by wasps all over his arm and ... I can't say it! INSIDE HIS NOSE. Ouch!

So, I'm a little paranoid about bees and wasps, but when El Cangri told me yesterday that a bee had stung him on his finger, I went to the medicine cabinet to get the homeopathic remedy for "bee stings" (Apis M.), and washed his hands. His little right pointer finger was stiff and swollen and red. A red hole was the evidence of the sting. I put some anti-inflammatory oil and went back to planting flowers. Yes, on a Sunday, but they were going to die if I waited one more day.

El Cangri started complaining that his face hurt, and when I turned around to look at him, I saw him riding his trike, his eyes a mere slit. He kept saying, "I want to go take a bath!" I took him inside to wash his face, and that's when I noticed the hives. It was like his skin was bubbling as it became covered by bright red welts. He even had hives on his scalp. I felt a distinct voice on my mind say, "Go to the hospital. NOW!!!!" I immediately called my awesome neighbors to see if the other kids could stay with them.

The neighbors came running to help, and I. took the kids home so B. could come to the hospital with me. By then El Cangri was wheezing, and he couldn't see at all. I had given him one teaspoon of Claritin before we left, and I'm convinced he made it to the hospital because of the Claritin.

The ER was packed, of course! But they took him in right away. The doctor took a look at him, and he ordered an IV to be placed and a cocktail of medicine to go in it. My poor baby looked so small in his superman cape on that hospital bed! But, he's such a brave boy, he didn't even flinch when he felt the IV needle on his arm.

I'm so grateful B. was there with me. I felt I was having an out-of-body experience, and today I have been very weak. My body and mind respond to emergencies by blocking out things. I could hardly speak, in either English or Spanish. B. was there though, making sure everything was OK.

A while later, the swelling went down, and he was breathing well. His heart rate was stable, and they sent him home. We carry those miraculous epi-pens now, just in case. If this is how he reacted to a very first sting, I shudder to think of a future sting.

I took him to our doctor today, to discuss plans for the future, what treatments are available, what to do if there is a next time. When we went to the pharmacy for his medicine, he saw a little "kolala" (how he called it) bear, and it was love at first sight. He named him "Sting." I wonder what goes through his mind. What he thinks.

His face was still VERY swollen this morning, and I overheard him telling his older siblings, "Yes, I look different now, but everyone is different, right?" All day I caught him looking at himself on the mirror. My child; he's so vain. He loves his face. Today I saw his worried expression, and he asked me if he was ever going to be pretty again. Lump ... He's so tenderhearted and beautiful. I love him so much! Of course, my kid who LOVES bread is the one with the wheat allergies, and the one who loves to play outdoors is the one with wasp allergies. My sensitive little guy. What am I going to do with him?

What good will come out of this? For now, my appreciation for my rowdy four year old. For happy laughter coming from the trampoline and the swing set. The gift it is to be oblivious of insects when you are out in the yard, or taking a walk around the neighborhood. The blessing it is to have older siblings who love their little brother and cry, "The vaccine, the vaccine!" meaning the epi-pen because we were out having a tea-party and there were little bees outside.

I try not to think of El Cangri's starting kindergarten next year, or of scouts camps, or the mission. I know, there's still time! But it goes by so fast! I can't have him under my skirts (like they say in Argentina) 24/7; I have to educate him and then trust. Trust in him that he'll protect himself, in others that will remember his allergies, and in Heavenly Father, that He'll protect this boy who is the light of my life.

The best of summer

2009-08-07T16:01:00.000-07:00

Not what she was expecting

2009-08-03T14:36:00.004-07:00

Summertime is parade time here in Utah. We were lucky enough to return home in time for our city's festival which is called "Highland Fling." For the last 4 years I have had a kid in the baby contest, and this time was the first time that I didn't have a baby participating. Later I found out there was no baby contest this year after all, but oh well! I was still sad my baby-contest days are gone. Sniff, sniff.

Well, Last Saturday we were up early for the parade, and like every year we have a blast. The kids love eating cotton candy (the ONE time in the year they do),

Seeing the police officers with their motorcycles and standing by the curb for high-fives

And Cosmo!

BYU's mascot was there at the parade. My little Chubbers saw the kids go crazy with excitement (we are a truly blue city. We have the random Ute, but here we're mainly Cougars!) and she ran because she thought the truck must be throwing a TON of candy. I saw her running happily, ad then stop in her tracks to turn back frantically and ran back to me because she was terrified of Cosmo! My Gorgeous Boy and I couldn't stop laughing. We laughed so hard we were crying, and then maybe a few of those tears of mine were due to the fact that my boy is old enough to feel sympathy and look condescendingly on his siblings. He's my little friend. He tells me jokes, and we look at each other rolling our eyes when Swan says a random thing. When did he grow so fast? He's only 8, but since he's my oldest, he acts like he's much older. And then at Costco I have to take away a penny he was using to torment his sister, and I have to tell him off for speaking like Stitch, from Lilo and Stitch, because oh boy! How annoying!
Our Highland Fling. A day of summer that's become a marker in our lives. How long until Jeff can celebrate it with us again?

Brain Freeze

2009-07-30T21:29:00.002-07:00

Every day, when I'm the busiest, making breakfast, cleaning, chasing the dogs, chasing the kids, etc. I think about different things to blog about.
Some examples are:

The black widow spider I saw on the kitchen door yesterday morning.
How happy I am to have had my hair done by the awesome C.
How grateful I am for wonderful neighbors/friends who babysit so I can get my hair done. I love you A!
How I am stuck at 48,000 words in my manuscript, and even though I can SEE the next several chapters and the end, this part I'm stuck in feels like a giant, suffocating spider web that I can't get through.
Swan Princess makes the funniest comments, but when I'm going to write them down I don't remember what she said anymore.
How happy I feel when I clean my house (yes, I have an obsession with a clean house, and I love doing the work myself).
Why do I feel like school just finished when it's actually time to go back in two weeks!
I don't understand twitter.
Argentina-Brazil will be played at El Gigante de Arroyito, Central's stadium, and I soooooo wish I could go back to Argentina just to watch the game in September, even if I go for just one day.
My dad's canary, Pichuco, died today of natural causes.
My fear of driving through American Fork Canyon, which means that in order to visit my best friend I have to drive down to Orem and then through Provo Canyon for one hour, when it could take me twenty minutes through AF.
I can read a very scary book (actually two of the Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice) and not be scared (because Jeff was home at night, and I usually read them at the beach, under the blinding Texas sun and a vampire could not have gone there), but when I return home, my mind recalls each and every one of the scariest sentences (like: "I can go through any door and locks," "They didn't hear me coming," "Claudia likes families, and takes them one by one") and I can't sleep until it's past two in the morning, at least.

I think about all these subjects, but when I sit down to write a post, I'm so worn out, I stare at the screen and not a single word comes out of my fingers. So I'll leave it at the list.
Maybe August will bring some inspiration and eloquence so that I can make more sense and write a better post.

Our Toys Away From Home

2009-07-20T08:31:00.006-07:00

When we travel to our summer destination, I have to pack very carefully. No matter what I tell myself, what incentives not to buy a thing Jeff gives me, every year I go back home with a lot more things than I left. We always return with new clothes, a few toys, and yes, you guessed right, books. Tons and tons of books. Before I came to Corpus Christi, I had prepared my pile of books to read, thinking that I could read things online (there's always Wikipedia, and ebooks). The thing is, I didn't have Internet for the first three weeks. So I read, and I read. Before I knew it, my pile had dwindled to one book. I decided to re-read Harry Potter (see? I can't post a thing without naming him!), but after one (or two) trips to Barnes and Noble, now I have a nice new pile to work on.

I usually bring just enough outfits to last all summer, and the kids bring their Nintendo and Littlest Pets, but there are many times we are bored out of our minds. The first few days in a new town (if we have a car) we go exploring. We've been to the museum, aquarium, USS Lex, etc. But, everywhere we went we had to pay an entrance fee, and there are five of us. Lucky for us, this year we live close to the beach. We go to the beach a couple of times a week. We'd go everyday, but I'm already so dark that if I don't open my eyes and I don't talk, Jeff can't see me at night. So, we tried going after 5. Well, Gorgeous Boy got stung by a jellyfish, and he is scared out of his wits because he realized that indeed, living tings inhabit the waters.
When we don't g to the beach, there is always the pool. We've been going to the pool pretty much every day except Sunday because my friends A. and P. don't have a car in the afternoons. Their husbands need it to work.
We have fun at the pool, at least our afternoons pass quickly when we are in the water. On our first day here I bought the kids life jackets and foam noodles. They have foam balls and their imaginations. They swim like fish by now.
But at the pool I get still darker, if that's possible, and sometimes I just don't feel like seating there for hours watching the kids.

It's time for old-fashioned toys then. Among the few things I buy is a jump rope and chalk. The kids and I jump rope and play hopscotch. Sometimes they draw on the tennis courts. With a ball the kids play futbol, of course, and one-square two-square. They play all kids of things, with a $5 princess ball we got at the store.
Another favorite inexpensive game is "elastic." I got a little package of elastic (about 4 yards) and I tie the ends. Then we play jumping games that I've taught the children. Talking with my Latina friends, I found out that each country has its own little songs and steps for elastic. No wonder we were all so athletic when we were little. We jumped all day. It's amazing to see how high the kids jump, and how much time they spend making up steps and songs for the game.
Luckily the kids will go back to school and teach their friends.

When the jump rope, elastic, hopscotch and ball become boring, there are always trees to climb. There is a park that has a pond with turtles and the craziest geese and seagulls I've ever seen. They're used to people feeding them, so once they smell stale bread, they swarm around you until not even the crumbs are left. We've been to the park several times, and the kids love to play in the merry-go-round and slide down the hot plastic slide when we run out of bread for the birds. Sometimes, no matter where you are, how many toys we have, the most fun things to play with are regular every day things, like plastic laundry hampers, shoe boxes and blankets.

This is a picture of a ship Swan created. She and the little ones played there for days (Gorgeous was completely immersed into HP, trying to finish the book before we watched the movie), doing acrobatics not to fall into the water (which was the carpet). They had so much fun playing ship wreck that they've already ask permission to recreate the game back home.

The rest of the time, there are books and movies (we found a wonderful dollar theater. Wonderful not because it's really nice, but because it's only $1). The kids also collect treasures, like broken shells and sand dollars, feathers, even the shell of a tiny egg. They play the most amazing things. Nonstop. Because when all is said and done, the thing they need the most, they always carry around with them. In them. Their imaginations. Imagination and time is all a child needs to be happy. Yes, good food is important, and love. As long as they have an imagination children will be entertained.

Still, when we go finally go home, I feel like it's Christmas morning in July. The children run around the house, followed by the little feet of two happy dogs. They squeal in delight to be able to jump in the trampoline, and play with their dolls, ride their bikes and scooters. When we go home, we realize how blessed we are, how much the Lord has given us, and we appreciate things better. And we enjoy them.
What do you do in the summers to keep kids, and yourself, entertained?

Waiting, waiting

2009-07-14T08:55:00.002-07:00

My Harry Potter ticker on the left column of the blog is not working properly. Remember the movie release day was changed several months ago? Well, the ticker is still showing 2 days left for the movie to come out, but it's actually just 13 hours. Who said I'm counting? And yes, I have tickets for the midnight show!
I have to report that my awesome Gorgeous Boy achieved his goal of reading Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince before watching the movie. In fact, he is half way through the last installment. Jeff goes to check on the kids and comes back to the kitchen shaking his head in unbelief. Gorgeous sits in the closet for hours, making faces, exclaiming in surprise or outrage, laughing, crying... So many emotions.
I know, I've said this ad nauseum, but I'm reading the book for the first time vicariously through my son. I'm so happy he loves reading, whatever it is! Swan Princess is reading "The Little House on the Prairie" series. And nothing gives me more pleasure than finding the littlest ones in their closet, reading Where the Wild Things Are for the gazillionth time. They know all the words, and they mix the English and Spanish versions.
Being here, in the sweltering Texas heat we have time to read, watch TV and rest. We usually wait until the sun goes down to go out and play, and we have a nice routine by now.
I'll post about the games and toys my children play and use during the summer. But for now, I'll sign off and do some writing.
I'm at 42,000 words with my book, and I think about it constantly. By the way, I just read the most amazing book, "The Forest of Hands and Teeth", and when I went to the author's website and I read that she started it during National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), I got a boost of energy. I know the more you write, the better you become. I'm happy the stories are coming to me. For the longest time I wanted to write but didn't know what to write about. Now, when I'm trying to figure out a character, a new idea for another book will show up, and I quickly pen down the phrases or snatches I see in my mind, and continue with my work. Yes, it's a lot of work putting into words what I see, hear, and dream. But it's happy work; energizing work. I love it.