On New Years Eve a fabulous, amazing, incredible, I-can’t-believe-this-came-to-my-inbox  email popped up in my Outlook. It was an email from the editor at Harpercollins.  I’d sent her a query letter and the first three chapters of The Hazzardous Universe. She said she wanted to read the rest of my manuscript.

I know!

Did you hear it? The heavens are open and those angels are not only singing, they are totally breakdancing! I love it when those angels get all excited about stuff.

How seriously cool is that??? Harpercollins? YAY! And I googled the Editor (not stalking google–just research-your-editor google) and she looks like someone I could be friends with. (Not that she’d take your place, Kirk . . . everyone knows you are one wicked awesome editor.)

It was a great feeling to get that email–one I wish I could bottle up for when things get dark. And things do get dark sometimes. Writers hover at that space between light and dark and it takes so very little to throw us over to one side or the other. I can read a dozen glowing reviews of my work and smile stupidly over them, and read just one negative review and cry and blubber for hours over it.  But talk about a huge shove to the light side. What a great way to kick off a new year.

I made no resolutions this year. I’m just not all that “resolved” to do things differently.  I’ve made resolutions in the past, but looking back on them, they were more like wishlists than resolutions. My number one resolution was to get a book published in the national market. This is no offense to my cozy niche market, but a deep desire that makes me keen in mourning every time a rejection letter flutters to my hands. This is a ridiculous resolution. I can’t control what will or won’t be published. I’ve resolved to stop throwing tantrums, to make more substantial dinners, to be on the New York Times bestseller’s list, to fit in the jeans that no longer love me, to stop swearing, and to get myself up to date on the kids’ scrap books.

All lies. Either no control or no resolve.

In spite of all the things I probably ought to do, I have no resolve to do any of them. So why bother with resolutions?

All in all, 2008 was a good year. I actually wrote a book (for though I cannot control what will get published, I can control my efforts in attaining that goal). The store survived another year. Bing got baptised and has really accelerated in his ability to play the piano (he’s even composing his own music, which I think is just adorable). Murky discovered books were awesome and started taking the initiative of doing his homework without my screaming until my lungs burned up (the heavens are singing over that one too). Murky has also started writing his own comic books, and Rae has become amazing. I mean yes, Rae has always been amazing. Maybe it’s because she’s the oldest, or because she’s the only other person in the house who has the same levels of estrogen as me, but I look at her with constant awe. Today, while I worked the store, she sent over Bing with a plate of food for lunch. I love that she thinks of things like that to help me when my burdens are a wee bit too heavy to bear.

And Mr. Wright (who loves his name since he thinks it implies he is always right) said something really, well . . . right. He said, “I’ve loved growing up with you, and I want to grow old with you.”

Yep, I am definitely keeping him. I’m glad to hear he wants to keep me too, in spite of my resolve to remain “unresolved.” Sometimes that man is heartbreakingly adorable. I’ll try to remember that when I am breaking the  “I will not throw tantrums” resolution.

I wish you all a fabulous year of joy and wonder. May your children never say embarassing things in public. And may your dreams be realized before we rollover into 2010.