Places I Have Lived, Continued

Friday, there were storms. And inside the little apartment off 14 1/2 Alley, there were no lights to see by. I sat with my dogs and my cat and a dozen half-filled boxes, waiting to see so I could finish packing. This weekend, we moved into an apartment above the park, not far from Huntington's new "World Class PetSafe Dog Park." We have dogs and cats and park-goers for neighbors. In trying to count -- because I always lose count -- how many moves this makes, I felt "moved" to go back and re-read something I wrote a few years back. In case you've got a few minutes and you'd like to know, here are the places I have lived: http://swdooley.blogspot.com/2009/05/places-i-have-lived.html And now I've got to add a few more: 43. When we got back to West Virginia, we stayed with my parents. My niece Marilyn was 13, and she cooked elaborate meals that she would not eat, and wrote menus for them so we could choose. We sat in rocking chairs and ate from the garden. We lay on our backs on hot pavement in the dark and watched fireworks. Who says you can't go home again? 44. We moved to Wyoming County. This was the first house we owned. We painted the walls. We sat in the dark. We watched snow cut us off from the rest of the world. I drove on tangled roads and dodged coal trucks. I taught kids I didn't know how to teach. I lost a friend. I left things unfinished. I saw cover art for Livvie Owen Lived Here. I wrote Body of Water and lived through part of what would someday be Free Verse. We nursed Buddy through Parvo. We worked in the yard, but the work was never done. We walked through grimy snow to Sunoco and bought off-brand dog food. We waited for the thaw. 45. Huntington! We moved to the apartment on 14 1/2 Alley. We got married on Independence Day. We found a home for Buddy, who needed a yard and water and not a tiny apartment in the alley. We found Oscar. Then Winifred. Both Dachshund mixes with attitudes bigger than their tiny, silly bodies. Jake and I separated. Then slowly found each other again. I wrote Ashes to Asheville. Then Free Verse. Livvie Owen Lived Here, then Body of Water, were published. We made friends with the neighbors for maybe the first time ever. We sat on porches and watched storms blow in. On Saturday, we moved. And now we are in number -- 46. The sweet, bright, light apartment on the park. Hardwood floors and a crappy futon and new countertops and promise. And the story continues.

A book festival, a blog post, and also, the dog ate my homework.

Hey, guys,

Just wanted to pop in to mention two things:

1. If you're in the Huntington, WV area, be sure to check out the Ohio River Festival of Books. I'll be doing presentations at several local schools, and there are a slew of great authors planning some awesome events!

2. I'm over at Smack Dab in the Middle today, talking about April showers and what they bring. Come on over, ya'll!

3. (Did I say two? Yeah, well, I stink at math!) I'm sorry I've been absent for so long! My computer has been in the shop (read: with the computer-savvy parent of one of my students) for over a month. I promise to return as soon as my computer does!

Ten Things We Teachers Wish For

Thank goodness, Saturday is St. Patrick's Day -- it's not on a school day this year! My absurd level of joy at this realization got me thinking about the things teachers spend their wishes on. Here are ten:


10. That St. Patrick's Day will fall on a weekend. Wow, do kids love to pinch their teachers, who are far too frazzled to remember to wear green on a specific day. (Most days we're lucky just to make it to school wearing pants.)


9. That April Fool's Day will fall on a weekend. Not because the April Fool jokes are difficult to spot. But because they Never. Get. Old. Geesh, some years my kids seem to think April Fool's Day lasts clear into May! And more than once, I've had to explain that flunking a spelling test is NOT an April Fool occasion.


8. That the bell will ring, and our little Pavlovian children will let go of our hair out of habit when they realize it's time for lunch or the bus.


7. That it's just allergies.


6. That the principal/parent/supervisor/teacher from down the hall will walk in just ONCE when things are going RIGHT and nobody is throwing a tantrum or climbing on a table or drawing on their neighbor with a Sharpie.


5. That the paperclip is just lost, not swallowed.


4. That our kids will magically "get it" - whatever "it" happens to be that day.


3. That we will hear more laughter than tears from our kids.


2. That spontaneous communication will happen, and we will be lucky enough to get to know the true personalities of these funny little people who tolerate us on a daily basis.

And, finally ...

1. That it will snow.

Contest: What did you drive your family crazy with?

Who wants a free audiobook?

If you answered, "Me!," then post a comment on this blog or on my Facebook page telling me about a time when you had a favorite song or movie that your family hated, and you will be entered in a drawing for a chance to win a free audio copy of Body of Water or Livvie Owen Lived Here!

For me (oh, there are so many to choose from), I think the movie I tortured them with the most had to be Danny. This was 1993-ish, and we would occasionally check out a VCR and a few movies from the video store. My favorite movie was Danny, which is a late-seventies film about a girl named Jamie who loves a gray pony named Danny (played by a pony named William Tell -- but I forget who plays Janie). I watched that thing over and over from the time we rented the VCR until the time it went back, with reluctant breaks to let other people watch stuff. I rewound the horse show scenes over and over. Worse yet, when the movie went back to the video store, I trotted and cantered in circles -- in my sister's bedroom, no less -- reciting the ENTIRE movie start to finish. Including the music. And the neighing. (Autism spectrum? Me? Whatever do you mean?)

In the novel I'm currently writing, there's a kid who loves horses, and she tortures her family in much the same way using a fictional horse movie. I'm having a blast writing the dialogue!

Of course this all made me wonder whether I was just the most annoying kid ever, or whether y'all had similar obsessions. Tell me your story in the comments (or on Facebook) and on March 1, I'll draw names to receive one of my audiobooks (Body of water or Livvie Owen Lived Here) -- so you can, you know, listen to them over and over and annoy somebody.

I can't wait to hear your stories!

Yoga. (Ish.)

I've recently started taking yoga classes, and I have to say I love it. In fact, I love it so much that I've started practicing at home. I find that it really helps to center me and clear my head prior to writing.

In case you're not familiar with yoga, my lovely assistants and I have prepared a quick primer:


Standing Forward Bend (with optional puppy-swatting):






Downward, facing dog:






Locust Pose (with doggie spotter):





Give up and let the dogs win:

FOUND: Stray Hippo. Call to claim.

Found: Hippo. Gray, approximately 0.5 inches in length. Clean and well-mannered. She is clearly a treasured pet and I'm sure your kids miss her.

She was found in the dark recesses of my purse on 2/21/2012 at approximately 6:45 a.m., just as the Barboursville bus pulled out of the station. I was looking for my headphones and discovered Rover (as I've taken to calling her) hiding in one of the front pockets, along with sixty-five cents in nickels and a squished Mike & Ike.

Rover has had a big day.

She started with some art:




spent some time reading:










met some (scary) new friends:







did some riding:




visited the amusement park:




blogged about her experiences:




and has been treated like royalty by her foster family:







But I know she misses her real family. If you have lost your beloved pet hippo, please call.


(This is all by way of saying that I love my job as a teacher -- one of the few professions in which you will periodically discover random zoology concealed in your belongings.)

(Also, yes -- I do have a miniature ferris wheel, a tiny horse, a paint set, a tiara, and a cat on my desk. Doesn't everybody?)

Chickens and Libraries

Yesterday, I posted over at Smack Dab in the Middle about how much I love libraries.

I didn't tell you about it until today, because ...

Okay. I cheat. I'm a cheater. I'll admit it. When I write NaNoWriMo novels, I stop using contractions because I want to get credit for two words instead of one. In college, I was known to occasionally edge the margins in by a milimeter or two, and it's possible I spent some time comparing Times New Roman to Courier to figure out which font edged the research paper text onto the required tenth page.

I'm in this writing group called The Patchwork Writers, and they're crazy people, every last one of them. I mean, yeah, it's a writing group. Big surprise there. But what I'm saying is, they've got this ... incentive? That they use to motivate their writers to meet personal goals. They set a deadline and then each writer participating in the challenge sets and announces their goal -- a certain word or page count, completion of a project, or, in my case in the most recent challenge, a certain number of promotional activities or blog posts per week.

And if you don't meet your goal? You have to wear a chicken suit.

In public.

Oftentimes to a writing event.

And the kicker? These crazy, wonderful people with whom I spend my writing time? They actually have not one but two chicken suits between them.

So, as I mentioned, my current chicken suit challenge involves blog posts and publicity. I'm supposed to write a blog post or otherwise promote my books at least four days per week.

Yesterday I posted at Smack Dab. If I'd posted that link here yesterday as well, it would have been wasted as far as the chicken suit challenge is concerned.

And I don't want feathers.

Sorry.