Today I’m taking leave from my usual storytelling essay format… well, there’s always a story.

Most of my missives focus on the insane importance I place on minutiae in my life. I love taking a tidbit and making a feast of it. Hmmmm, sounds a bit biblical. But it’s just how I am.

I’m also a proud mama. In fact, in some circles beyond family, I’m known as Mama Bean, which flatters me. (Thanks SB!) I savor the sweetness of family when I write about my children and husband, which is probably insufferable at times. But it’s just how I am.

I dependably steer clear of academia or scholarly stuff. I couldn’t begin to write an essay counseling other writers how to write, or the ins and outs of publishing. Wish I could, but I have no advanced degrees to wear like a Miss America sash. Shoot, I barely squeaked through college with a degree in Sociology and a minor in something or another. Of note, Eric Mayer and Netta recently posted very fine pieces regarding the art of writing and the perils of the publishing world. Their posts were engaging, intelligent, humble, approachable and thought provoking. There was no harrumphing. They don’t drink tea with their pinky fingers sticking out.

Rarely do I dip into conflict, either. When I do, it’s unwitting. Remember my infamous g-u-n post? I like to write happy, I also paint happy. I deal with my inner demons in one-on-one combat – it’s me and them and I try to keep my readers out of the fray.

Anyway, today I’m going to give you a tour of some of my favorite sites. They are a dash of this and that.

Mr. Cloudy (gotta love the name) has written some of the finest posts I’ve read. They are so pure – written with raw honesty and vulnerability. I esteem the courage it takes. Not only do I commiserate, but he succors my very own neuroses. My troubled heart thanks you, Mr. Cloudy.

A new place I frequent is La Vagabonde, where Julie takes her readers on the most remarkable journeys via her vast travel experiences. Through her eyes, I have seen exotic parts of the world I never even imagined existed. My wanderlust heart thanks you, Julie.

I also love to stop by Maggie’s place, Electric Grandmother. (Don’t be fooled for a moment by the name. She’s a vibrant, sparkly young woman.) Her site is a dependable destination for a wholesome slice of life. Her down-to-earth sensibilities, observations and humor are a delight. My comfortable heart thanks you, Maggie.

Now, then, take Netter! She’s become my evening cocktail. I can’t wait until she posts, because she is so gosh darn entertaining and one of the best writers around. If I’ve had a blue day, it pinks up the moment I read her post. My gratified heart thanks you, Netta.

Eric Mayer’s posts are like going to a potluck dinner – he’s full of yummy surprises – brimming with wit and intelligence and well-crafted delectables. My hungry heart thanks you, Eric.

Dave Burton over at Random Thoughts is exactly that – random. He's a cup of happiness, a shot of joy. He posts short stories and random musings. It’s always an interesting place to visit. Oh, and he’s the force behind 3/50, which is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Each day he assigns three “random” words to use and we participants have to add 50 words to a short story in progress. I’ve never done anything like this and it’s great! My creative heart thanks you, Dave.

Rhubarb’s (aka Tryon) site was one of the first I ever visited and is a sentimental favorite. Unfortunately, it was ransacked by a vandal. I look forward to returning. *sigh*

And Hazel. Hazel, Hazel, Hazel – what am I gonna do with you? Hazel’s one of the funniest, most tenderhearted men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Post more, ya goofball! My eager heart awaits your talented words.

I’m so intrigued with the concept that whatever I post is “out there” in some mysterious unknown space, and available for the whole world to read. It’s exhilarating and spooky all at the same time. I love it when I get comments. It’s a validation thing – a weakness in my character. Yet, I know there is a silent majority out there, because news seeps back to me about the people who read my posts. My grateful heart thanks you quiet people.

Anyway, I’ve discovered over the past few months that one wins readers, one loses readers. It’s nothing personal. Some folk who used to read my simple, happy stuff, no longer come by and that’s okay. In a way, I can’t blame them with all the blathering that takes place at times. On the same token, I’ve dipped my toes in some sites where I haven’t felt at home and left – actually ran. It’s kinda like the TV show “Cheers.” You know where you belong and when the community feels right. As my husband says, “There’s an ass for every seat.”

Okay. Are ya still here with me? Lost ya yet?

Well, I’m gonna write happy again today, but briefly. As I’ve recently threatened, I am no longer on sabbatical. The first day back at work I queried, sans agent, a small independent publisher with an impeccable reputation. I emailed the query in the evening, and before my first sip of coffee the next morning, I got a response requesting a synopsis and partial manuscript. I didn’t need the coffee after that. I was on tilt the rest of the day. Still am. By the way, the working title is “The Night the Moon Cried.” My first, second and third drafts defied genre pigeonholing, but by the zillionth draft, it took on an aura of mystery. The murder I added finally gave it genre. Amazing what a little bloodletting will do.

Sooooo, I’m asking ya’ll to cross your fingers, cross your toes, say novenas, light candles, sacrifice a Twinkie or Ho-Ho, throw salt over your shoulder, kiss a frog, sing exotic incantations to obscure Gods, do the Stations of the Cross, whatever. But keep good thoughts and pray to the higher being you commune with. I’d like this chance to be published. Heck, it’s St. Patrick’s day and I’m Irish, so maybe…

By the way, Brian actually sold my first book yesterday, but that’s another happy story I’ll bore you with another day. Oh, and don’t fret, I love self-deprecation. It makes me feel superior. Harrumph.

Kiss, kiss – hug, hug.