For the past nine months or so, I've been working on a book. It's been an off and on sort of project, because I'm not really in control of all the chaos in my life. I would sit down at the computer and then somebody would scream up the stairs demanding dinner. (Those high maintenance chidlren want food. Can you believe it?) Or some annoying real estate would text me to get out of the house in ten minutes, so a picky buyer can sneer at the paint colors on my walls. Lots of stuff happened in those nine months, and I don't often get those big blocks of quiet time. 

Just because you know how to write an academic paper or a blog post, it doesn't mean that you know how to write a book. A shocker, I know. So, I have had a major learning curve there. 

While writing itself can be a bitch at times, throwing myself into the writers' subculture has been a joy. In order to figure out what the hell I am doing, I've been going to Meetup groups of writers and working with agents. This Friday, I'm going to the BlogHer/Penguin conference. I've learned a lot about the craft of writing from all these people. I've also learned that there are a lot of wonderful, kooky people out there. 

Check out my new friends, the Book Doctors.