Her Jane, Me Writing

Today I'm just going to send you over to my friend Jane's blog "Me Jane", because frankly, it's just brilliant (but be warned...you're going to laugh but you're going to cry). And also because I'm busy with some re-writes on my book proposal (per my agent! Did I mention the memoir has an agent??). I'm off for the next 5 days and planning to sink into the writing (and maybe a few home projects...but mostly, I'm all about the writing...okay, and some reading, but then it's the writing...I mean, I'll have to walk Seamus of course, but then, I'm all about writing; it's unfortunate I seem to have a cold coming on, but I'll power through it and write. Yep, that's me. Writer. Serious, serious, writer.)

And in honor of my five days of writing, and my friend Jane's brilliant blogging, here's a photo of me (right), Jane (left) and our other writing buddy Lori (middle, obviously) at the Maui Writer's Retreat circa 2004. Ah, those were the days...

Something to Celebrate

Two years ago today my (now former) primary care physician called to tell me my mammogram was "highly suspicious of malignancy." Of course, he didn't call me in the morning. He called me at 3:45 pm and he told me I needed to get to a surgeon right away and I should call the next day. You know, on Christmas Eve. And so began my breast cancer journey. Five years ago today Seamus was having his second chemotherapy appointment. Of course, he kicked cancer's butt (which, as you will recall was literally trying to kick his butt--because, um, that's where his tumor was located).

This photo was taken on December 26, 2008 (I'm just beginning my cancer odyssey and Seamus is a 3 year survivor):

And here's this years photo...

I think we've recovered nicely, don't you? I'm a month away from "2 Year Survivor" status and Seamus is a 5 Year Survivor (and hey, that's 35 people years).

Merry Christmas! (And Cheers!)

It's Not Just Kids He Terrifies

So, we took Seamus to see Santa. (I know what you're thinking. Here's my excuse: It's a fundraiser for the Mary S. Roberts Pet Adoption Center.) Seamus is nothing if not expressive. Here is how it went:

("Are you fookin' kiddin' me? Who is dis guy?")

("I will not put up with this. Dis is bullsh*t. Seriously.")

("Mom, you are completely fookin' humiliating me. A scarf? Where da hell is dad??")

("Are you seeing this?? Dude is tryin' ta kill me!! He's choking me!! I want my lawyer!!!")

("Fine. One pose. But just one.")

("And then I'm fookin' out of here. Seriously. Take me home. To steak. Steak and toast. Now.")

Here's wishing a Merry Christmas and a Happy Home for the Holidays for all the gorgeous animals at the Mary S. Roberts Pet Adoption Center!! We did this for you.  (And Seamus is almost over it.)

Not Fair at All

This has been a difficult couple of weeks. [Be warned: not much any humor in this post.]

By now we've all heard that Elizabeth Edwards died from cancer today. It's not like I knew her, but I'm saddened by her death and by her obituaries that focus on her asshole jerk of a husband and all his betrayals. She seemed like a very decent, intelligent person, and it bothers me to no end that cancer doesn't really care about that. Her passing and the news coverage of it is just one more reason that I have been unable to put cancer, and more to the point, the possibility of a recurrence of cancer, out of my mind of late. Elizabeth Edwards death today brings me back to the blog...to vent.

I haven't been able to blog lately for a lot of reasons, but mostly because I don't really know what to say. I still don't. Cancer has been omnipresent of late and I may well have lost my sense of humor about it.

In the past two weeks we have once again been dealing with cancer in our family. My beautiful sister-in-law (my brother's wife) lost her father to throat cancer just before Thanksgiving. He was 63 years old and his diagnosis was shocking and his battle was very short. My sister-in-law lost her mother to breast cancer 11 years ago on December 14th at the age of 52. I remember being at her mom's funeral on December 23rd, the year after my father's wife died on that same day.  It's just not fair. Cancer never is.   I think of my niece who has a grandmother, a grandfather and an aunt who've all had cancer and what this might mean for her future (and I hope it means early screening, extra attention and vigilance...but mostly I hope for a cure before any of that matters)

And very recently, with seemingly no warning, Chris's aunt has been diagnosed with Stage IV metastasized breast cancer, with a pretty grim diagnosis. I've been helping her on the legal side of things (the "get your affairs in order" side of things) and Chris spent several hours with her at the hospital today. I can't help but think that she's probably had cancer for far longer than I have (or did? what's the proper word here...we don't know) but for some reason hers wasn't caught, but mine was. Or was it?

I think about these people, these cancers, and I think about my blogging friends battling various stages of cancer, and another business colleague who recently went to a hospital to say goodbye to a friend of hers whose breast cancer has recurred and was nearing the end of her battle, and I think about my new "virtual" friends recently diagnosed with breast cancer and in touch because they found my blog and reached out for support, and I think...F*CK CANCER.  I wish I could be more articulate than that, but no...F*CK CANCER.   And I think about the possibility of a recurrence of my own cancer and I just want to say that again. F*CK CANCER.

Usually my logical mind takes charge and so yeah, I can figure out that none of us knows how long we have or if cancer will strike or strike a second time and that I'm maybe no more likely to die of cancer than anyone else despite my recent encounters, because the thing is...none of us knows.... but also, I can't stop thinking about cancer right now.And the possibility of recurrence.

Have I mentioned how much I dislike this time of year? There is a lot of good stuff going on in my life right now, but at the moment, today, I can't seem to focus on that. Because life is just not fair. Not fair at all.

Butterflies and Book Deals

Seamus is on his way to being famous...(and also practicing his "I want to be alone" pose).

The title is a bit of a cheat. Twice, actually. I don't have a book deal yet--but as I mentioned I have "officially" signed with a super fantastic literary agent who will be representing my memoir and taking it out to publishers. And I promised details, which I will now share. (Programming note: if you are one of the blog readers who is a writer yourself, you are already familiar with this process and you may just want to skip down to the end...and then leave your comments telling me where I got it all wrong.) When I've told some of my family and friends my news I've been met with cheers and...confusion, especially when they ask when they can buy the book and I have to explain, well, uh, it will have to find a publisher first.  Understandable confusion since most non-writer folks don't really know about literary agents and just think "book deal."

Here's the deal--to get a book published with a publishing house of repute (whether little, medium or big), these days one must have a literary agent. You cannot simple call up Random House and tell them you've got the next bestseller--you're the next Jonathan Franzen Clancy Irving King Rowling.  Nor can you mail them your novel and then sit waiting for the money to pour in. (Please watch this funny clip and know it's all true). No, you need a literary agent. The literary agent can get to editors at the publishing houses and get them to consider buying your book. No agent, no book deal, pretty much. So it's a first--and major--step, after of course you've done the required writing work.

Literary agents get 100s (maybe more) of requests --known as "query letters"-- every month from aspiring authors pimping their writings. With a novel a writer must finish the book (or, um, in the case of my earlier novel, finish it repeatedly, and then again and then start again) before seeking a literary agent. With non-fiction, it's a slightly different route. With non-fiction the writer puts together a book proposal, which Chris has described as a "business plan for a book" and that's pretty accurate. A memoir is non-fiction so it falls in the latter category, except with some agents who still want a finished manuscript and a book proposal. I've been working on the actual memoir all year. I started working on the proposal in August (remember that North Carolina trip--yep, all book proposal) and finished it in mid-September, including sample chapters and an outline of the full memoir.

Then I spent several weeks researching agents. If you are ever in this position, let me highly recommend a site called QueryTracker.net. This site not only let me research the agents and find out all sorts of valuable information (who represents what kind of books, what other authors an agent represents, how to contact them, how long they usually take to respond, if they respond...) but also let me track the status of the various queries. That might not sound all that complicated, but it is--considering that a writer doesn't get to just send 2 or 3 queries and wham! there's the agent begging for the book. It takes many, many queries. 100s sometimes (there are 1000s of agents--some better than others of course). Then, with my list of 250 possible agents selected and ranked on a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being a dream agent and 10 being a good agent that was a fit with this type of memoir), I turned to writing the query letter.

Again, harder than you think.  A query letter is one page that describes the book, sells it with a "hook," and also explains why you are the best if not the only person to write this particular book. Phew. This stuff is work, people.

Finally, on September 29th, I began the process of sending out the query letters (and sometimes the proposal itself, or sample pages, depending on each agent's preferences) to a select number of agents (not all 250--that would be crazy!!). I got a good response almost immediately! The "good response" was 11 agents asking to see the full proposal. Trust me, that's a good response. I sent the proposals as the requests came and then returned to writing the memoir (okay, well, first launched into a "what was I thinking? I can't do this! I can't write! panic which all writers are familiar with).

By November 16th (trust me, that's speedy!) I had offers of representation (yes, plural!!) and got to begin the happy task of "checking references"--which is a fancy way of saying I called and spoke with some of the authors represented by the agents who'd offered to represent me. As a lifelong reading geek, that was beyond thrilling. Then, last Wednesday I signed with a category 1 dream agent--Sarah Jane Freymann of the Sarah Jane Freymann Literary Agency. I'm thrilled. I've loved my conversations with her and her thoughts on shaping the memoir. This weekend I've written 11 new pages and am highly motivated to write more and more and more. (I'm sure this is a honeymoon stage; I'd like to enjoy it anyway.)

The plan at this point is that she will get back to me with her notes on the proposal and how to make it as marketable as possible. I'll spend December revising the proposal and after the first of the year she'll be taking it out to the editors looking for that magical book deal. Which means, there won't be news of a book deal until February or March--and that's if I'm really, really lucky (or really, really good ;-)  ).  In the meantime, I'm just going to bask in this little glow right now and keep my head down working on the  actual writing. Not a bad way to spend the holidays.

Seamus has of course demanded his own agent. He's not sure I'll fight for enough toast residuals in his contract so he'll need his own representation. We're in negotiations now.You can see the hardline position he's taken in the photo.

Oh, and the butterflies in the title? Well, I could cheat and tell you it was in reference to the butterflies in my stomach when the agents called, but I'm not really a butterfly kinda gal. No, it was a bald faced cheat--because the blog post with the most hits, consistently, in the history of the blog was the one titled Butterflies and Blogs, and, um...I wanted a lot of hits again as I brag about getting an agent. Believe me, when the book gets published the blog posts will all be "Butterflies, Unicorns and Free Sex."

Best Thanksgiving Ever!!

The big news is........ I have an agent for The Dog Lived memoir version!!! Woo Hooo!!
More details later, but suffice it to say I'm very happy and looking forward to getting this memoir as perfect as it can be. I will be represented by Sarah Jane Freymann of the Sarah Jane Freymann Literary Agency, (in New York City--which just feels so literary!).

Happy Thanksgiving to all!!
Cheers!

PR PTII

Also known as "Paso Robles, Part II."

Yeah, I know...it's taken me awhile to get this posted. Well, all I can say at this point is that it's been a really, really busy week or so as both a lawyer and a writer. I will have very exciting writer news to share very soon (lawyers aren't really allowed to share their news..oh, and it's rarely exciting to non-lawyers)! In the meantime though, I wanted to share a bit more about my Paso Robles week of wine and writing. I mentioned our neighbors in PR. They were awesome. So cute. So well behaved. Perfect in every way. Allow me to introduce you to a few of them:

This is Clover (so named because he has a brown clover-shaped marking in the fur around his butt). He lives at Venteux Winery. (Let me also highly recommend their Hospice du Bone wine...mmmmmm).

This is El Cid from Ambyth Winery (he's a golden-doodle!). Simply adorable. Also, I'm going to recommend the Ambyth Rosada Rose...and just going to this absolutely spectacular vineyard. The views are incredible. The wine is delicious and if you are as lucky as we were, the caretaker Gustavo and his lovely wife just make a deliriously fabulous shrimp Veracruz and chips and guacamole (she put cucumber in the guac! never hear of that but it was fabulous!).

This is El Cid's pal at Ambyth whose name is momentarily escaping me. But he ran way out ahead around the entire vineyard leading the way as Gustavo drove Chris and me around in the Polaris for a tour...wineglasses in hand.

This was our next door neighbor for the week. Never did catch her name; she mostly kept to herself.

This is Cabernet. He lives at Eberle Winery with his less-willing-to-be-photographed sister, Roussanne.

I did not catch these girls names either, but clearly they were having their own girls' weekend.  We'll just call them Lori, Jane and Teresa. (The photo is taken from the car, through the windshield while we waited for them to cross).

Bartender Zachery. Cute waiters are also part of the native wildlife of Paso Robles. (And Zachery was an English major in college. Mild swooning.)

T (heart) PR.

Come Along With Me

I'm on vacation this week. And if you are thinking "Hey, weren't you just in a beach house in North Carolina for a week of writing and relaxing?", well, congratulations to you. You are absolutely correct. But really, that was last August. And it went so well that Lori and I, along with another writer friend Jane (for two days anyway) decided it was worth repeating. Only this time instead of the beach we're in a great little house in Paso Robles, California. Conveniently located in the midst of Central California's wine country. A little writing, a little wine, a little more writing, a little wine...it's all working out great.

I'm still busy with The Dog Lived (and So Will I) memoir version and have thus far completed the second draft of the first half (Seamus's story, in essence). I'm now on to my own story. It's an interesting process and I'm actually learning a lot about my own journey. I'm re-reading some of my old blog posts to remember where I was and what it was like during certain stages. Today I'll be writing about the MRI and how it was to let friends and family know about my diagnosis. If you'd like to follow along, in the memoir I'm pretty much at the stage discussed in THIS blog post. (yep, click on "this"--er, the earlier one, in caps--and you can go back in time with me). But if you'd just as soon follow along on my vacation, I offer you this:

My cute home for this week.

And it's fall here. This is just not something we have in Southern California (of course, it's also been in the 80's here all week...so, um, "fall" is still a relative term).

There was a late harvest this year due to the cool summer, so the vines are actually a bit lush for this time of the year. (No lush jokes! None!)

The wineries are also pretty spectacular. (This is Robert Hall; it was closed when we got there, but the grounds were so beautiful we walked around for a bit.)

Starr Ranch Vineyard.

DuBost Winery Vineyard.

This bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon came from that vineyard right behind me. And then he came home with me. Along with a few of his friends--like Ms. Rose', and Ms. Viognier.

In the next day or so I will share with you photos of some of our neighbors on this vacation. Really. They're cute.

In the meantime, Cheers!

(Neither Lori nor I know what's up with our hair. I'm guessing it was windy. At any rate, we're in Vina Robles winery and we'd like to thank Martin for a wonderful tasting and some of the best double cream bleu cheese I've ever tasted. Paradise Bleu I believe it was.)

Weighty Matters

 All appears good on the check-up front. We'll know in a week when the four vials of my blood they took have been appropriately screened, tested and magnified (or whatever it is they do with all that blood o' mine).

My visit to Dr. Glaspy for my one-year and 6 months post-chemo (or one-year three months post all treatments) check-up went just about as I expected with one exception.

I mentioned the lingering issues which either occured during chemo and never went away or have cropped up since chemo and my body does not seem to be clearing up by itself. In no particular order those are:

1) my eyelashes continue to grow in and then fall out. Every few months (like now) I end up with three or four long normal eyelashes and then stubble for the rest. And mascara looks ridiculous. The horned-eyelid effect is not a good one.

2) my digestive system has never returned to normal. Enough said.

3) I have to cough and clear my throat for anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes after eating anything.

4) the right breast (the formally "afflicted" one) seems to have a certain unnatural firmness (right, I know...not supposed to be something one would complain about...unless one was a panicky former breast cancer patient).

5) I still have sleep issues (insomnia and night sweats).

Now, none of these things are problems that cause me pain or worry or really even are things I think much about. But, this far out from treatment I figured I'd ask if these were now just a permanent part of me or if there was anything I could do about any of the above. And for item #1 I asked about a prescription for Lashtisse (or whatever that is Brooke Shields does the eyelash super-growth commercials for). I also asked about seeing a nutritionist and/or ear, nose & throat specialist.

Dr. Glaspy gave me that patient, indulgent smile of his along with the Lashtisse prescription (clearly, he is not a believer! But also, I think he may think eyelash growth is a silly concern. He may have a point). Then he said....he said...cough, cough...he....said.....(with the exception of #4 which is the result of the radiation)......cough....he said....

"I'm willing to bet that all of these issues would clear up if you lost some weight."

Clunk.

Wow.
And...wow again.

Now, it's not like I haven't noticed I've gained weight. According to my chart, I've gained 12 lbs since the cancer odyssey began. And I've gained 30 since Chris and I began dating (as has Chris; we're sure this is pure coincidence).  But I've never in my life been overweight or had to watch what I ate. Not rail thin, but not overweight. And I eat (and drink) like a teenage boy. And I don't exercise. At all. Huh. Who knew that was all going to catch up with me one day?? And now is that one day. I'm telling myself that I'll take walks while I'm in Paso Robles next week and when I return I will join the gym and talk to a nutritionist. Assuming I can roll myself off this couch and get myself all washed up with that rag I've got tied to the end of a stick for bathing purposes now.

Then we left Dr. Glaspy, went on over to the (totally healthy, dietetic, nutritional) Cheese Shop of Beverly Hills. $200 later (including purchases for friends) we went to our usual "no cancer anymore" dinner celebration with the good and great Dr. Karam. See photo above for his hair growth (the curls are coming back) and mine (the curls are going away!). And photo below for how Chris's massive head of hair is doing (he's due for a cut, but the nurse drawing my blood was loving his great hair and complimented him on it...so maybe he won't cut it just yet).

Much to our surprise we later ran into Emily, Chris's BFF from high school, and Emily's former roomie Hillary. The amazing coincidence here is that the first time we met Dr. Karam was of course January 8, 2009-- my first appointment after the "highly suspicious of malignancy phone call. That night after my appointment we went out to dinner with Emily (and some random never seen again guy--by us; but Emily has dumped him too) and another friend of Chris's, Ashley. So last night, the other friend role was played by Hillary (second from right) and the random guy role was played by Shawn (second from left)--one of the owner's of The Yard where we ate. And hey, anybody recognize the not-so-random guy in this next photo?

Chef CJ --fan favorite from Top Chef Season 2. He's the chef at The Yard and joined us for a bit. Obviously he was just trying to show me how tall and thin is done. Apparently, it can be done. Huh. Something to think about....while I finish off these cheese and crackers and sip some more wine.

Checking In and Up

Time has a way of flying by. I've heard that somewhere.

So, it's been one year and 3 months since I finished up all breast cancer treatments. And we know what that means...it's the quarterly visit to UCLA Medical Center! I go tomorrow to see Dr. Glaspy, my oncologist, for a check-up. And then of course we'll be seeing the good and great Dr. Karam for dinner which is more like a check-in. If you are wondering what the difference is, the obvious one is that I have my top on for one of those events. And there is food at only one of those events.

Although for the most part I've moved on to not even thinking about the breast cancer, it's inevitable that when I get close to the check-up appointment time I start paying too much attention to too many things. If my back or ankle hurt, instead of old age I (momentarily) think bone cancer? And lately anytime I eat anything I have to spend twenty minutes coughing and clearing my throat. And instead of thinking "allergies," I think throat cancer??  So I will be happy to go see Dr. Glaspy, have him say "all looks good" (and typically when I tell him my weird "symptoms" he smiles patiently and gives me the logical answer-- you know, like "old age" and "allergies.") Then I can return to forgetting about BC. Except for the fact that it is breast cancer awareness month. Hard to miss all that pink.

I did check my own blog here to remind myself where I was this time last year (this time 2 years ago, I was oblivious to the whole cancer thing!). And ironically, since it was then my first post-treatment quarterly oncology check-up--I was in pretty much the same situation (just with less hair). I was trying to think of myself as "any other dog" (a la Seamus). Hmmm...maybe I'm not progressing as much as I thought.

Ah well. Stay tuned. I'll report back in on the check-up and dinner with the good and great doctor. Perhaps we'll even get an updated photo on my hair status and his (he had shaved off all those gorgeous curls, so he's got some hair growing-out to do as well!). Oh, and you she see the massive head of hair Chris is sporting once again. Right, hair growth. Now that's going to be exciting....