Guess what's worse than driving to work in the middle of a blizzard?

Driving to work a few days later when all that ice and snow is packed down and ready to take your life.


I started my lovely journey to work at 7am, full of hope and hearing rumors that most of the roads showed signs of ACTUAL BLACKTOP beneath the death veneer of white. Unfortunately that didn't apply to the road just in front of my house.

This is probably a great time to mention that I drive a teeny-tiny Toyota Echo. And while this car is brilliant in normal snowy conditions, our Tundra-esque weather of late has distinctly anti-small-car character traits. Not only that, I'm kind of convinced that Winter the Evil™ was out to destroy me this morning, using its clever three-pronged attack sequence:

Prong 1: Snow Drifts of DOOM™
Having lived with snow all of my driving life, I know a few tricks on how to keep yourself from getting stuck in, say, a GIGANTIC DRIFT OF ICE AND SLUSH AT THE BOTTOM OF A DRIVEWAY. *cough* The key here is to keep your tires on the Lumberjack-tended areas of the driveway that are clean and dry from shoveling, and then--when the coast is clear--gunning the hell out of your engine until you are on drivable road.

Unfortunately, living in a town so near to the California border, and having our neighboring state be full to the brim of people who don't want to pay 345843954% of their income in taxes, we have a lot of people who move here from that state. It doesn't really matter until Winter hits, and the people of California say, "Um... what is this white stuff that falls on our streets and roads?" followed soon by, "HELP, I'M SLIDING!!"

One such poor bastard found himself sliding through the stop sign today in his GIGANTIC CAR OF GAS DEVOURMENT (which still had California plates that sported a mocking sun). Such cars give people hope that they can brave any weather--snow, SLEET!, HAIL!!, HURRICANE!!!... sadly it just means they cause more damage when they slide into something. This gentleman, managed to keep from hitting anything stationary. I managed to stop, mid-gun, before he could swing into me and my child.

Success! I thought just before i tried to move my car again... which had somehow gotten hopelessly stuck in a gigantic drift of ice and slush at the bottom of the driveway. Sadness.

But Winter the Evil™ can not destroy my will so easily. With whining tires and a rocking motion of determination, I managed to escape the Drift of Doom™, and find a part of the white street that had a modicum of traction that could propel me forward on my quest.

Prong 2: SURPRISE! Invisi-Ice™ is Invisible!
I decided to take the long way around, because none of our side-streets had been visited by the great Plow-Men of our fine city since this whole lovely storm system started. And to my great relief, most of the main streets were DRY! Like black... the color of street in the normal non-snow world.

Great rejoicing was heard in my car, as now I only had to worry about the thick blanket of fog that enveloped our world (and the UTTER MORONS OF WRONG who had decided not to use their headlights in the fog... oh morons, how you are moronic).

Sadly, I failed to account for the deviousness of Winter and the way it had used its miraculous powers to create ICE FOG in the desert.

Ice. Fog.

This, I have since learned (from The Lumberjack, who once lived where there is often wetness in the air), is fog that leaves a sheen of ice along branches of trees, across the tips of snow-absent brush and grasses, as well as ON THE BLACKTOP OF INNOCENT-SEEMING ROADS.

omgihatewintersomuch

Using my insane luck, and Gwen's Magical Fairy Powers of Naughty™, I somehow managed to slide across the ICE-FOG-INFECTED blacktop, and into the snow grooves of the side road that I needed to take to get to my daughter's preschool, without destroying any small living creatures. At least I assume the wail of "WHEEEEE!!" from the backseat was the release of Gwen's Magical Fairy Powers. If not, she is truly more sadistic and evil than even I had suspected. *ponders*

Winter - 0, Heather - 2

BRING.IT.

Prong 3: Jack-Knifed Truck Sadness™
Winter the Evil™ comes after us all eventually. Sadly, despite all of their driving experience, giant Mack Truck drivers seem never to see the true depths of Winter's evil until their vehicles are irreversibly stuck in such a way that inconveniences All Other Drivers in the known world. One such driver was thusly affected this morning on the very side road that led to my daughter's preschool.

Sadness.

I was left with two choices, neither of them good: 1. Brave the side-road further by backtracking all the way to the Invisi-Ice of Invisibility and take my chances in looping back around to the other entrance to the side-road, or 2. Gun my little car through a seemingly soft drift of snow on the shoulder to go around the giant truck slashed across the street.

So, I did what any responsible parent/driver would do... I asked the 4-yr-old for advice.

Me: "Plow through the drift? or Turn around and slide back to the main road. What do you think, Gwen?"
Gwen: "Can I have my juice now?"
Me: "The drift it is. Hold on, baby girl."

I tapped my dash lovingly, took a deep breath and gunned through the shoulder drift, which, as it turns out, was exactly as soft as it seemed from the outside. I managed to create a tire mark trail for all the Suburbans, Explorers, and Expeditions that lingered back behind me, but refused to blaze the trail themselves. (Butch up, Soccer Moms. For real.)

And then... TRIUMPH!! I drove into the parking lot of Gwen's school, which was clear and dry, and completely unslippery in every way. (I do love them so.) Much parading and confetti was thrown, and I was lauded with the slightly-awkward, but meek, apologetic looks of SUV-TANK-driving soccer moms who followed me through the entrance of the pre-school. (See my note about Butching Up.)

Winter, thusly defeated, attempted to mock the clearance of the valiant Echo with much scraping of the undercarriage on the small side-road I had to take to my actual workplace... but The Echo gave Winter the Evil™ the Finger of Scrape-Plates™, and we went on with our morning like nothing had ever happened.

TAKE THAT, WINTER, YOU DEVIL!!

*cough*

So... um, how was your weekend, guys?

Good?

Good.

While I'm still a total noob in this publishing industry thing, there is one thing I know for sure:

I have a rockstar agent.

I could talk about how she is a great strategist and amazing communicator, or how she lets me ramble awkwardly during pre-coffee phone calls as I try to gather my thoughts, all with a patient tolerance like she actually cares what I'm trying to blather out.

But really the number one reason why I chose Eleanor (from the group of awesome I got to meet) is that she really GETS my work. When I've completely fumbled with the words on the page, she still seems to understand where I was trying to go and has recommendations on how to make it actually get there. And somehow she does this in a way that still lets me be the creative writer I need to be to get the job done.

The one thing I'm learning daily about publishing is that it's an industry of patience and waiting and then more patience and slightly more waiting. But when you find someone who not only wants to help you take that next step, but wants it to be the exact right step... that's someone worth waiting for.

So, on this day of Unofficial Agent Appreciating (started by Kody Keplinger), I just wanted to say CHEERS to Eleanor Jackson, my Rockstar Agent of Love. I'm lucky to have her on my side!


(To see a list of all the writers handing out agent love, see Lisa & Laura Roecker's blog.)

The cold & snow in Reno are both out for blood this week, which always makes me want to curl up with tea and my laptop for some long interrupted writing time.

But then I remember about the day job thing... and the kid and husband thing... and then I look around my pathetically messy house.

...and I decide I'm going to write tonight anyway. Cool, right?

(I may take a brief break to watch Glee... but that's because it is NECESSARY.)

So here's what I'm working on, in order of priority, with word count to keep me accountable, um... to myself (since word count doesn't really mean much at this stage... it just needs to keep going up):

1. Camp Wylde 2: The Revenge (yeah, I still don't have a title.)* 15068

2. A Thousand Words* 15290

3. Uh-Oh It's Magic* 2567

4. Tea, Scones, and Dead People* 568

5. Entanglements* 38127

6. Healing Wounds* 11062

DISCLAIMERS
* All book titles are placeholders until I can think of good ones.
** They're probably not about what you think.
*** Book title suggestions are always appreciated, especially if they make me giggle.
**** I completely do NOT giggle. Evil never giggles.
***** Gwen wants you to know that her Sea Lion is a STAR! *jazz hands*
****** Gwen also wants you to know that she does not approve of the *jazz hands* in my last disclaimer.
******* Gwen is now saying "do not approve!" over and over in a sing song while she draws more sea lions.