Sandra Rose Hughes

Though this blog has come to a grinding halt since I had my son and lost regular internet access, my writing attempts continue. This year, I participated in Nanowrimo for the 2nd year in a row. I found that it was easier than last year and I felt that my overall work was much improved. My short story challenge last year (I wrote one short story every day for a month) and my poetry challenge (same thing, but with poetry) helped me improve on plot development and the places where poetry or rhyme was necessary in my story. This year I hope to improve on revision, as I often find it much easier to create something new than to fix the problems of my past work. I ended up with a 50,000 word novel entitled, "The Selkie Prince," which is a work of children's fiction involving identical twins from California who study abroad at Oxford and get transported to a magical world quite a bit like the Orkney islands North of the Scottish coast. There are selkies, hogboons, trows, t

Well, the great submissions fest is over. I ended up submitting to only 14 markets. I quickly discovered that out of all my pieces, only about a quarter of them seemed to fit anywhere, and of course, most places do not accept simultaneous submissions. I have heard from the majority of the markets and was rejected by all of them. It stings a little, like if someone hit you on the hand with a fly-swatter. But surprisingly, it doesn't feel like a I was hit in the face with a 2x4. Maybe I've been rejected enough now that I'm getting used to it, being immune a little. I certainly hope so. In any case, I hope I am learning to enjoy writing for its own sake more and more. Though it does not appear to be adding much glory or money, it still adds a tremendous value to my life.

I am working hard on submitting my poetry and short stories. There are a lot of wonderful contests and markets out there. So far I have submitted to: Lunch Ticket (Rejected very politely within 24 hours) The Lucille Clifton Poetry Contest The Asimov Science Fiction Magazine New Myths e-zine All wonderful markets I would recommend submitting your work to. 

Good Morning, Writers! National Poetry Month is almost over and it's been a lovely trip down poetry lane for me. I ended up with not thirty, but nearly forty new poems that I wrote this month. I also visited a poetry open mic night for the first time at Russo's books in Bakersfield. I really enjoyed listening to the talented local writers and getting to share my own original work. They were an extremely supportive bunch of people. If you have a local poetry group, I highly suggest getting involved! It worked for Tolkien and Lewis. So with May starting tomorrow, my friends and family have been asking me what new writing challenge I will take on for the next thirty days. I have decided to try for a submission a day for the next 30 days. I will submit poetry and short stories to magazines, books, and contests. I have already submitted to three markets (I couldn't wait) and have already received one rejection, so I'm well on my way to my goal of 30 submissions. In my e

Just a quick update. After the wonderful adventure of Nanowrimo last November, I got bored and decided to invent my own Short Story Writing Month in March- NaShoWrimo. Maybe someone clever already came up with it, I don't know. Anyway, I have been writing a short story EVERY DAY this month. I am currently on day 22 and it's been a really amazing journey. Next month is poetry appreciation month, and I need a break, so I plan to scale down and read and write a poem a day. I can't wait! 

It wasn’t long after we met, that Anthony and I began exchanging emails regularly. I was impressed by how intelligent he sounded and how well thought-out his emails were. When I came to Bakersfield for Christmas, he took me out to Coco’s restaurant and we talked in depth.   I asked him what his “5-Year-Plan” was and it was around this time that he told me about his dream to build his own home on his parent’s property in Lake Isabella. Lake Isabella, CA Overlooking the family property.             Unbeknownst to me, Anthony was actually going on a few dates with another girl around the same time, someone his sister had set him up with. He told me about her much, much later, and he says that dating the two of us made it clear who was the better choice for him.             The flurry of emails continued and whenever I visited my parents in Bakersfield (about once a month), I always made sure to squeeze in a date with Anthony. He also visited me at college, sent me the occasio

My husband and I a few years before our baby was born. For Christmas this year, I wrote a 75 page summary of my husband and I's courtship and the last 7 years of our marriage. He loved it and I really enjoyed writing it. I will include a few excerpts here. Bright blue eyes stared into mine and round cheeks grinned up at me as I reached over to wake our son this Christmas morning. By this Christmas of 2012, our son Bennett will be about six months old. When I hold little Bennett in my arms this holiday season, it is hard to imagine that there was ever a time before he existed. Even harder to imagine is the fact that there was once a time before Anthony and I knew each other- quite a long time (especially for Anthony), in fact, before we met, courted, and became a family. It was shortly before Christmas of 2002 when we met for the first time on a blind date to the Yule. Our mutual friend, Jennifer, was setting up my sister Carolyn and one of our friends, Becka, up

Most of my life sounds bucolic when I put it down on paper. I spent last weekend helping my husband work on cabinets for the house he is building us, carrying branches up to the grind pile with my baby and my dog, and collecting pine cones for our out-door fire pit. A few months ago, a friendly neighborhood tortoise wandered up our hill, thoroughly surprising all of us. I hope he will migrate across our property on a yearly basis.  During the week-days, I stay at my parent's house with the baby. My parents have high-speed internet and cable which is wonderful, and they have a house-cleaner and a gardener who come regularly, so I don't even have very many chores to do except for taking out the trash, keeping my areas picked up, and making dinner for everyone. Okay, it doesn't just sound bucolic- it IS bucolic. Too bad I don't have a sheep to round out the picture. The cat will have to do.

http://www.memphisflyer.com/CityBeatBlog/archives/2012/11/01/the-rubiks-cube-on-top-of-beale-street-landing I have three different writing projects I'm working on right now and I am enjoying myself immensely. You know those scenes in detective shows where the genius detective looks at the crime scene and he can just "see" how it all fits together and then wows and amazes the police force? That's how I feel sometimes when I'm revising my writing and the writing of others. Like it's all a Rubik's cube and I'm one of those people who can see all the answers. My primary project I'm working on is my Song of Three Manuscript. I was a little stuck for a while, but then I purchased fancy pens, highlighters, post-its, and a cute 3-ring binder to put the hard copy in. Then I tentatively opened the binder and started highlighting- I was soon in a happy rhythm! My second project is actually a book that my father wrote on preaching. He is an incr

Do you know what the worst part of being a new parent is? THE TERROR. I wasn’t a fearful person before I had Bennett. I always figured that the worst that could happen to me would be dying, and if I died, there would be some sad people, sure, and I wouldn’t want to be them, but I would have lived my life well and would have had no regrets. I would wake up in heaven and be with Jesus and all would be well. Now I have a new worst fear: That Bennett will die and that it will be ALL MY FAULT. Every time I hear about a parent whose kid died in some terrible, preventable way (which has been a lot this week, for some reason), I just know I’m going to be next. At night, I wake up and stare at him while he sleeps just to make sure he is still breathing. Having his car seat turned away from me makes me crazy because I can’t see his face; I just have to believe that I really did strap him in there and put him in safely before I started driving. I have actually pulled over and stopped the c

In high school I was a chorus member in the musical, "Damn Yankees." One scene takes place in "Limbo," a purgatory sort of place where Lola and Joe are banished after they displease "Mr. Applegate" (AKA Lucifer). Our "Limbo" was not this cool. As a chorus member, my job was to lurch around in a sort of depressing Congo line leaning on other chorus members as fog swirled around us and the stage was illuminated in red light. It was supposed to be sort of other-worldly, but that effect might have been lost by our cast's inability not to cough and sputter every time we breathed in the fog and our inability to be cool about having to lean against people of the opposite gender. We probably looked less like these cavalier doomed souls wandering through purgatory and more like tuberculosis ridden zombies with a terror of cooties. Cast Member 1: (whispers)Stop touching me! *cough* Cast Member 2: You stop touching me ! *cough cough* Cast