This was not how this week was supposed to go.  After my post last Friday, I was ready to make good on my promise to fill in the blanks.  I had five really meaty posts planned.

Then I looked at a calendar.

And I realized that the fact that I thought Monday was June 16th didn’t actually make it June 16th.  It was June 21st.  A mere 10 days before my two-week trip to Scotland for Dad’s 60th birthday (sorry, Dad, that I just broadcasted your age on the Internet).  Nine days before my (self-imposed) June 30th deadline to send my first round of query letters.

Oh.  Crap.

And so, just like that, the blog got put on the back burner.

The good news is, with 6 days to go, I’m in good shape.  I’ve assembled a list of agents I want to query, and I’ve got the meat of my letter complete.  The plan is so send the first batch out the day before I leave for my trip and spend the next two weeks reading my novel – on paper! – as I tour the Scottish countryside with my family.

There’s still a lot to do before that can happen.  As of right now, there are a number of bracketed scenes in my draft, scenes that need major work before they can be considered complete.

Which is why, sadly, the blog will have to stay on the back burner for a few more days.  This is what embracing the detour looks like this week.  Putting first thing’s first.

In the meantime, those of you with querying experience, I’d love to hear from you.  Advice/insight/funny stories?

Memory has been on my mind a lot lately.

Watching a tiny baby grow into a less tiny baby makes you want to remember each day.  Maybe not every moment, but so many of them.

On top of being in a memory-making mode, I’m writing a novel that asks big questions about the nature of memory and its relationship to identity.  Do our memories define us?  Am I me because I remember all the things that have brought me to this moment?  Or am I somehow separate from my memories?  Of course, the answer depends on how we define “I.”  Then again, how we define “I” is the question itself.

In constructing a story about the nature of memory, I had to come up with my own answers to these questions.  Now, I want yours.  Your answers but also your questions.  About memory.  Identity.  Sense of self.  The mind.  The body.  The heart (the one that loves, not the one that beats).  The soul.

Which of these are inextricably entwined?  Which of these can we remove from a person without taking the person away?

If tonight, while you slept, you were to somehow get a brain download of all of my memories – every single one – would you wake up tomorrow in love my husband?  Would I, with no memories left, still love him?

Are memories something we have or something we are?

It’s here.  Day #100.  My big deadline.  And, like with any deadline, I’ll be working til the very last moment.

It’s 6:00 a.m. PST.  I’ve got 18 more hours til midnight.  And I plan to use every single one.

Which means today is a book day.  Not a blog day.

So if you’re looking for my big Day #100 post, (please please please) come back tomorrow!

In the meantime, if you’re visiting Embrace the Detour from Momalom, check out the “ETD Essentials” on the sidebar.  And if you missed yesterday’s post on Courage (the first post in the Five For Ten series), scroll down and read it now.  And please, comment!  This whole Five For Ten thing depends on the power of the comment.   If you don’t have a blog of your own, shoot me an email at lauren [at] embracingthedetour [dot] com.

I remembered why I’m doing this.

Not that I’d forgotten — I hadn’t.  But sometimes in the midst of the actual doing, the reason behind the doing fades into the background.  As it should.  It’s hard to get things done when you’re busy thinking about why you’re doing them.  The Why can be distracting.

So can a moany, kicky (not a word but should be a word) baby.

These things are related.

As you all know, I’m rapidly approaching my Day #100 deadline and I’m wildly behind schedule.  So far behind schedule that I’ve abandoned the schedule for a “just get as much done as I can today” approach.  I think it’s working.  I have no idea if I’ll have a draft complete by May 11th, but it seems within the realm of possibility that I might.

With 13 days to go, every day matters.  I’m fighting to stay balanced, but it’s hard not to have tunnel vision.  This is important to me.  And while it’s not absolutely imperative that I finish on Day #100, the deadline does matter.  There will come a day in the near future when it will be time for me to go back to work.  On that dark and stormy day, whether I want it to or not (I won’t), the novel will get pushed down the priority list.  Way down.  Which is why I need to finish this book NOW, so I can transition from trying-to-finish-my-novel mode to trying-to-sell-my-novel mode before my days as a stay-at-home-writer-mom are up.  Or – even better – so I can actually sell my novel so those days don’t have to be up at all.

An irony:  when I started this project, my biggest fear was that my baby would derail my career goals.  Baby and career were at war in my mind.  I worried (okay, assumed) that motherhood would require me to accept something Less Than in my professional life.  My baby wasn’t even here yet, and I was already looking for ways to manage its existence, so afraid that he/she would get in the way of what I Really Wanted.  Now, three months into this mommy gig, I am looking for ways to manage my career, unwilling to let it get in the way of what I Really Want.  To be here.  To be present.  With my daughter.  Because of her.

Which brings me back to the Why.

Yesterday, I was staring at my screen, struggling to finish this BFF fight scene that’s giving me so much trouble.  Lil Mil was kicky and moany and fussy.  She was tired.  So was I.  Neither of us had slept well the night before.  We both needed a nap.

I weighed my options.  I could try to get her to sleep in the vibrating, singing, spinning bassinet next to my desk so I could keep working.  I could take her up to her crib and put her down for an official nap.  Or I could pick her up, carry her to the queen-sized bed that was once in her room and is now in my office, and lay down with her.

Yes, the last option was the least productive.  From a sleep-training perspective, you’d probably even call it unproductive.  But as we were lying there, foreheads pressed together, both of us dancing on the edge of sleep, a thought popped into my mind:

This is why I’m doing it.

Yes, I want a career as a writer.  I want someone to pay me to create stories I care about.  But more than that, I want a career that enables me to have those moments with my daughter.  Moments I’ll either have or miss.  Moments I’ll either be there for or I won’t.

And that’s the irony:  I thought motherhood would be at odds with my goal.  The opposite is true.

Motherhood has become the reason for it.

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How has your detour changed your goal?  Has the goal itself changed or just the reason for it?

Speaking of detours – please send me your detour story!  In the spirit of today’s post, I want this Friday to be a tribute to The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me detours.  What unexpected event/opportunity/situation was a game changer for you?  How is your life better because of it?

Today’s post is yesterday’s post renamed.  I’m leaving it up because I’m getting such rich stuff.  Please keep ‘em coming.  And thank you, K, for reminding me of one of my best (and by that, I mean absolute worst) mean girl moments.  Thank you also for emailing it and not posting it as a comment

Today’s post is a continuation of my plea from Saturday morning.  I’m still struggling with the blowout BFF fight in the middle of my story.

The good news is I’ve filled my hole.  I’ve finally given this fight the depth and intensity it needs (and deserves).  In my head, at least.

You see, I still haven’t written it.

Right now, in the middle of Chapter Eight there is this big chunk of bracketed, highlighted text that explains all the reasons Abby and Caitlin are fighting (both the on-the-surface reasons and the real, truth-beneath-the-surface reasons).  And I like it.  It’s meaty.  It’s real.

The next step, of course, is to actually write the scene.  But I keep putting that off.  Which is fine, really.  There are plenty of other scenes that need to be written.  I can put this one on hold til later.  But I shouldn’t.  With Saturday’s post and your comments and emails fresh in my mind, I should finish it now.

So why am I putting it off?  Because I’m having trouble summoning my inner mean girl.  And in particular, my inner teenage mean girl.  I’m feeling painfully uninspired.

This is my call for inspiration.

No, I’m not asking for more rah rah rah’s or you can do it!’s (although, if you’re offering, I’ll take ‘em).  What I’m asking for is probably a little harder for you to deliver.  I need some cruel, stinging, bitchy words.  Words you wish you could take back.  Words you’ve never been able to forget.  As annoyingly wannabe-writterly as this may sound, the truth is, in order to do this fight justice , I need to remember what it feels like to be standing in one of those things-might-never-go-back-to-the-way-they-were moments.  And right now, I can’t.  I’m not sure if it’s all the breastfeeding-induced endorphins or what (thanks, Lil Mil, for your 3 month growth spurt), but I seem to have temporarily misplaced my bitch voice.  Help me find it.

So, tell me:

What was the meanest thing you ever said to someone you cared about?

What was the meanest thing someone you cared about ever said to you?

Did it ruin your relationship?

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(p.s., the snake pic above really freaks me out.  you?)

(p.p.s., if you’d rather email instead of comment, please  do.  you can find me at lauren [at] embracingthedetour [dot] com.)