A Moment of Thanks

It's Veteran's Day and I wanted to take a moment to thank all the veterans who have so bravely and selflessly fought -- or otherwise put themselves on the line -- to protect the freedoms we all so strongly believe in.

My father is one. A reluctant one, who was anti-war and never believed violence was the way, but went anyway, because he was called, and served valiantly, in a MASH unit in Viet Nam, 1966-67.

War changed him, even in some good ways. It made him a better and stronger doctor, and, likely, a tougher soul. Things that were also good qualities for a father. :)

During the year he was gone, my father wrote to my mother, my sister and me every single day. I have stacks and stacks of the letters - they are a fascinating, poignant, and honest chronicle of young love, death, fear, disillusionment, family, hope, medicine and the horrors of war. It is a huge regret that my sister and I have not yet managed to do what we hoped we would: put them together in a cohesive collection and have them published. I still hope we will.

This photo, above, is from the day my father arrived home from Viet Nam, to two children who were young enough when he left that a year away made him a stranger to them. He was never a stranger again. He came to my sister's class for show and tell right after that ("see, I have a father!") and to every recital, school play, gymnastic competition, moot court competition, family dinner, grandchild's baseball game, etc., etc. after that. He has been, truly, the best father a girl could have -- those of you blessed to have strong, hands-on fathers who teach, champion, support and protect you -- not to mention love and adore you -- throughout your lives know how precious this is.

So, on this veteran's day, a valentine to my father, and by extension, to all fathers out there, then and now, who leave their families to serve in war. May there never be another one. Ever.

gae

At the End of a Season, I Conquered.

     With water temps dropping precipitously into the 40's and air temps no better, the head of our swim pod (much to both my sorrow and relief) officially declared the 2010 open water swim season closed today. Even though I knew it to be true, the fact was a hard one to swallow. It's been an amazing season for me. In the end, I've not only done something I never thought I would or could do, but it has become an inexorable part of my being.

    From barely making it a mile the first day, to swimming a 5k by mid-July, from worrying about bunkerfish and horseshoe crabs to completing a swim where I alit from the water covered in jellyfish stings, this season has been one triumph after another. Granted they were small, quiet triumphs, but there they were triumphs, nonetheless.


Nothing illustrates this more than a look back on a snippet from my blog post from June 1:

"Conquer and Fail, But More Conquer than Fail...

So, this weekend I squeezed on my wetsuit... neoprene booties and a beanie cap, and, yes, special gloves, got up at 6:00 am and trekked off to join up with a group of water-loving strangers to do my first-ever "open-water" swim despite talk of mating horseshoe crabs, and water temperatures that hovered easily below sixty.

I didn't chicken out which was huge; and I swam over a mile in much harder conditions than I am used to in my and the local "Y" pool.

The fact that I did it made me feel good. Although, I was admittedly frustrated with my performance as well. I did not, on Day One, make it as far as the rest of the group... I had trouble breathing -- getting the pace of my breath -- in the cold with all the tight straps around my neck. I had to keep stopping ... and, at one point, I ended up separated ... and my anxiety got the best of me. I turned back ...short of the goal. All the way back, I asked, "Is this a metaphor? Will I stop short in my life of where I want to go?"
---

So then, so far the answer to that question is, NO. I did not fall short. Not only that, but I went farther than I ever thought I could go.

Believe me, those are nice words to write. There have been plenty of times in my life I have fallen short, turned back, sorely disappointed myself. So just for a moment, I want to reflect on the triumph, bask in the conquer, and remind myself never to answer the question with anything other than a resounding NO. As I embark on this second half of my life -- and especially this big scary year ahead -- I plan for my answer to be "no." I know there may still be times that I fail, but I hope there will never be times I don't give it my all.

     Now, enough sappy, here's a shot from the day I realized only after our swim I'd forgotten my pants. It's a good thing I wasn't ticketed on the way home. <3

-gae

p.s. if you're interested in reading more about our open water exploits or seeing some awesome photos, here's a great place: http://www.thewater-blog.blogspot.com/

inspiration and small signs

I blogged about them here: http://ghpolisner.blogspot.com/2010/10/inspiration-and-signs.html.

-gae

Under Cover Blues

I had planned to blog about my cover for The Pull of Gravity today, because after a first-cover misstep (ugh, don't ask, it was horrible), I got an email on Thursday containing the cover of my dreams.

The Cover Gods Had Interceded.

Giddiness ensued.

My kids and my mother went crazy. ;)

Ok, fine, my agent and I went crazy too.

I imagined coming here today to tell you how cool, hip, whimsical, smart, funny, graphic, and iconic it is and how I can't imagine a teen or grown-up alike walking by it without wanting to pick it up. I imagined how fun that post would be to write. Did I mention I was giddy?


But What the Cover Gods Give, the Cover Gods Taketh Away

(also known as: and then came yesterday...)

That's a long story made short, but suffice it to say, yesterday morning I got an email from my editor saying not to get too excited, that, while the creative dept. agrees and loves the second (new, shiny, fabulous) cover, sales & marketing is set on the first (don't get me started) cover.

Giddiness gone, misery ensued. Er. ensues.

After the email, I went through the well-known stages of grief:

Denial,
Anger,
Bargaining,
Biking,
Crying,
Whining,
Posting My Misery on Facebook,
Depression and
Acceptance.

Ok, I may have stopped short of Acceptance. We'll see how today goes.

In the meantime, I'm praying. You know, in my I-don't-really-believe-in-praying sort of way. I'm praying that people will come to their senses. The cover gods were there for me once. Maybe they'll be there for me again.

After all, it took me ten years+ to get to this point, they wouldn't desert me now. If they do, I'll be sure there is no (cover) god.

-gae

Hats for Sale

It's been one of "those" (two) weeks. Where I'm juggling hats frantically (mother, lawyer/mediator, writer, wife, friend). When the only hat I really want to don is a swim cap.

I've had a few mediation sessions and two mediations come to the drafting point (which now only means reviewing the 40-page agreements my partner writes -- as opposed to when I used to write them and my old partner did the reviewing, a smart change I made to my practice when I got my book deal, but which still requires several combined hours of my time); son One (15) has been preparing for PSAT's and needing rides places; son Two (12) has been juggling school/homework with travel baseball AND a new travel basketball team (and games and practices for both!); it's been the school physical/orthodontist/eye doctor/dentist (please, let's not count cavities) time of year; a dear friend's daughter desperately needed help on her college essays; and my revisions on my option book are taking way longer than I want (the book, despite lots of slicing away at dead weight is now about 20 pages longer and I am only half way through). And, of course, there are dishes and, ahem, laundry to do.

In the middle of that, something that should have been awesome happened: the rough final of my book cover for The Pull of Gravity came in. Except, instead of the moment I'd been waiting for, you know, the one where golden light streams down from the sky and book angels sing, I was underwhelmed both with the cover art and the tagline, and I spent the next week arguing (sweetly) via email with my editor and assistant editor about my concerns and frantically redrafting "suggestions." The cover has gone back for some tweaks. We shall see if there is golden light from the heavens still to come...

At any rate, with all of these hats flying, is it any wonder that all I really want to do is this?:

I know, I know. For a lot of you the answer may be, "um, yes?" But for me, that place, those moments, are bliss. Heaven on Earth. And some days even, salvation. A place where all the other hats drown (too harsh? er, melt away) and there's only me, the water, and sky.

And, the other "Pod" swimmers who completely understand what this means. And agree, wholeheartedly.

And with the temperatures dropping (a few days last week were barely above 45 with water temps a brisk 55 - 58) the Open Water Season is rapidly coming to a close. Honestly, I don't know what I'll do without it.

Meanwhile, another week is here. With it comes the juggling of hats. Luckily, if I have anything to say, one of those hats will be an ugly, magnificent swim cap.

I Refuse to Blog this Week

as I am overwhelmed by revisions. Let's just stare at the water instead:

A moment among moments...

About a year ago October, after years (and years) of trying, as most of you know (ad nauseam) I got my first book deal - for my YA novel, The Pull of Gravity.

Since that moment, there have been several moments, that have been surreal, exciting, wonderful: the look on my boys' faces when I told them I had finally succeeded; the moment I called my husband (my sister, my parents) to tell the good news. The first time I sat in the small, sleepy office of my editor, the incredible Frances Foster (Holes (Sachar), Someday this Pain Will Be Useful to You (Cameron) The Wall (Sis)) in the flatiron building in NYC and listened to her gush on about the characters in my novel.

The moment I opened a check from Macmillan in the mail. :)

But the truth is, there is one moment above all others that truly stands out in my mind: December 4, 2009, when some of my best friends I've known "forever," came togther with some of my best friends I'd never, until that very moment, even met (and who had travelled across the space-time continuum to be here -- okay, at least from as far away as Virginia, Seattle, New Mexico and, you heard me: Scotland) to celebrate my small moment of success with me.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime night that I'll truly never forget, and I hope in some way to return the love and support shown me to each and everyone of them. Even those who could only be there in spirit (you know who you are).

In the meantime, here is a tiny glimpse into one captured moment of it. A toast by my dear friend John Aragon, writer -- and human being -- extraordinaire.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWeBJjB_B5o

Happy Monday. I hope each of you has the chance to share at least one evening like this one.

-gae