Introducing Kurt Chambers and Truth Teller

Today is a special day. For the first time, I'm bringing a guest to the blog. Please everyone, welcome Kurt Chambers.

Kurt is in my YA Novel critique group on Writing.com, and has just published his first e-book, Truth Teller. Welcome to Fiction and Film, Kurt!

Thank you so much, Kate, for allowing me on your blog today as my Truth Teller Mystery Tour comes to New Zealand. This is my first stop, and it’s a real honour for me to be here.

I am delighted to announce that the first book in my children's fantasy series has finally been released. This story came into creation back in 2006 and has grown into a three book series. It's a truly delightful tale about a modern-day girl, Charlotte, who finds herself drawn into a world of fantasy.

I wrote this story especially for younger readers so they can enjoy the wonderful world of traditional fantasy. I was introduced into fantasy reading at a young age, but I always struggled with some of the classic tales. Even back then I can remember thinking, why do they have to make them so hard to read? Someone should write books like this for people like me. I never imagined I would one day write a fantasy series myself, but that's exactly what I did. I wrote these novels in a way that I would have liked them to read when I was a child.

Now, Truth Teller is ready to delight children throughout the world. My childhood dream has finally come alive. This book has been tested on my target audience and I'm pleased to say it was a massive success, not just with the children who read it, but with many adults too. I couldn't be more pleased by the excitement my story has created throughout the writing community. I longed for the day when I could release my story into the world, and now that time has come.

Here is a bit about the story.

***

Ten-year-old Charlotte stumbles upon a strange shop when searching for a present. The creepy shopkeeper gives her an enchanting antique snow dome, but refuses to accept payment. All he asks is she promises to always tell the truth. She accepts his strange request.

Woken in the night, Charlotte is drawn by the globe’s eerie light and hypnotic power. With a sudden jerk, she finds herself stranded and all alone in a dark forest where she is discovered by a sword-wielding maniac. He calls himself, Elderfield, and he turns out to be a kind and brave teenage elf. He offers to take Charlotte to his family farm on a promise that he will help her find a way home.

They embark on an epic journey to find out why Charlotte has been brought to this realm and to pursue the one person who might be able to help, but none of them realise just how much is at stake. Strange things start to happen; visions come to her in dreams. They are hunted by real life monsters that attack with terrifying fury, but a far greater threat shadows their every move.

Fleeing for their lives, they reach the safety of an ancient mountain fortress and find the shopkeeper who gave Charlotte the dome. Her hopes of returning home are dashed as she is abducted by a druid assassin. Charlotte thinks she is defenceless against such a powerful foe, but in this realm, she is not the vulnerable little girl she thought she was.

***

Your chance to win a free copy of Truth Teller:

As part of my blog tour, I would like offer all you blog readers a chance to win a free copy of my story. Simply read the post here, leave a comment below and share this post on Facebook or Twitter, or both if you’re feeling generous. One lucky commenter will win a free copy of Truth Teller in e-book format via virtual dice. Please mention in your comment where you’ve shared this link, and include an email address where I can send you your prize if you win. Thank you!

Truth Teller Reviews:

Dawne Dominique - Multi-published author and professional cover artist.

The Truth Teller is one of the best children's fantasy book I've read in a long while. Charlotte is so easy to picture in my mind, and the fantasy aspects are brilliant! There are underlying currents of "real life lessons" that are subtly included...ideal for parents looking for that perfect bedtime story to read to their children. I loved the entire premise of the novel and will definitely be purchasing the next ones in this series.

Kurt Chambers has captured the genre with a wonderful story that will delight many a child's (and adult's) imagination.

Annie McMahon - Editor, published author and Novel Workshop moderator.

This book has everything a bestseller should have: compelling story, endearing characters, vivid descriptions, genuine emotions, and a lot of surprising twists and turns. This is a story about a friendship that transcends race, gender, age, and even realms, between Charlotte, a ten-year-old girl, and Elderfield, a teenage elf. Beautiful and heartwarming. I strongly recommend it and have reviewed Kurt’s story on my blog, Dutch Hill News.

Ralene Burke – Writer, Editor for Wives in Bloom:

Honestly, I can’t wait until my kids are old enough to read these books. Kurt has written an amazing series that emphasizes such wonderful themes as friendship, family, hope, and faith. I’ve read Truth Teller and Wrath of Siren and, even though they are MG, enjoyed them immensely. If you’re looking for wholesome reads for your children, check out the next big thing for MG.

Truth Teller is available in all e-book formats from here:

Amazon UK: Click here to sample or buy

Amazon US: Click here to sample or buy

Smashwords: Click here to sample or buy

Goodreads: Click here to sample or buy

Shelfari: Click here to sample or buy

Barnes & Noble: Click here to sample or buy

You can connect with the author at:

Author’s Web page http://kurtchambers.net/

Author’s Blog http://geniusborderinginsanity.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/emailmanROCKS

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kurt-Chambers/296957780317055

Oscars wrap up

The Academy Awards are over for another year. Am I the only one who wasn't very excited this year? Since they opened up the Best Picture category to so many films, the whole thing has been lacking drama for me. And this year, none of the nominated films stood out to me as being spectacular. Where were the truly outstanding films, like Melancholia? We Need to Talk About Kevin? And why the hell didn't Tilda Swinton get a nomination?

I think part of my problem was that I haven't seen enough of the nominees this year. Most of them opened recently here, and I haven't had the chance to see them yet. But then, I also haven't felt much of a desire to see any of them either. The Artist, yes. Hugo? Yeah, okay. But I have no desire to see The Descendants or Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I saw The Help and it was predictable. Midnight in Paris was fun, but hardly a Best Picture. Moneyball and War Horse hold no appeal at all, and while I really liked Tree of Life, I can see why it was overlooked.

What are your thoughts on this year's selection?

Well, that's a relief!

The first round results of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award were announced yesterday. This is the toughest round, the one where 8000 people get cut from the contest based on a 300 word pitch (sound like querying, anyone??). I was nervous when I got up and opened my computer, but my name was there.

Phewww!

Getting through the first round is kind of a lottery, but from there, it's your real writing that's judged. And this year, the people reading the excerpts seem to have the opportunity to state their preferred genres. Which is, in my opinion, a good thing. Even if they're trying to be objective, if the reader hates fantasy with a passion, they may not rate a well written fantasy excerpt as highly as a less well written piece in a genre they like.

So now I have another month of waiting to see if I make the next cut. Last year I didn't. The year before I did. Different book this time, so we shall see....

In the meantime, I have plenty to keep me busy. I got beta notes back on Boyfriend yesterday, and will need to do a little more revising before I'm ready to query. Plus, I need to write a query, something I've been putting off because I hate them. And I'm about 8K into my new book, Sour Plum. I'm not loving what I've written yet, but I'm sure once I get a little further in, I'll get my momentum happening.

So, the plan is to have Boyfriend query ready by the end of March (with a query and everything) and start sending it out. And to have the first draft of Plum finished by mid-May. And of course to win ABNA....

Do you have plans for your work?

A new world

Yesterday, I somehow managed to leave the house without my phone. I don't know how I did it because I was talking on it just as I was getting ready to go, but somehow I did. I realized when I got to the bus stop and wanted to look at the time. I don't wear a watch anymore, so I rely on my phone for that information.

For a moment I thought about going back for it. I never go anywhere without my phone, especially on the days I'm not at work. But I didn't. I went into town phone-free.

It was weird. I'm so used to having it, I felt a little lost without it. I kept imagining scenarios where people called with important information, questions or just my sons' school or daycare calling to tell me one of them was sick or hurt. I was also very conscious that I didn't know the time. I had to get back to pick kids up from school, and worried that I might get lost in my dream-world at the library and be late.

By the time I got back to my own suburb, I was beginning to enjoy being unconnected. I decided to do the grocery shopping before I went home so I could do it without any kids trailing after me. There was a kind of freedom in being alone and unable to be contacted. In the pre-cell days (yes, I do remember them) we all accepted that people weren't available 24/7. Sometimes you'd call and they wouldn't be home.

These days we're expected to be available all the time. All day every day. It's kind of exhausting. Sometimes it's good to be off the map for a while.... Says the girl who's getting an i-Phone in the next couple of days.

Do you like being away from your phone? Or is it like a lifeline?

Mothers

I've been thinking a lot about mothering in the past few days. Partly because I saw We Need to Talk About Kevin on Friday (which is probably the best film I have seen in at least 5 years, by the way. Just go see it.) and partly because I went to a party on Saturday with a whole bunch of my friends from our old mothers' group.

Out of this group, I'm the only one who works full time. Back when our babies were babies and we first met, I was the only one who worked at all and I worked full time then too. I've always had to work because in our household, I'm the primary earner. Which means of course, my partner spends a lot more time with the kids than a lot of my friends' partners do. I don't think it's a bad thing, but whatever I do, there's a lot of guilt involved.

I'd have made a great Catholic!

If I'm at work, I'm guilty about not being with the kids. If I'm with the kids, I'm guilty of neglecting my business. If I'm writing, I'm guilty of ignoring them both. If I'm not writing, I'm guilty about not doing that.

I don't think living in a constant state of guilt is the best way to be. I don't think my kids even notice when I'm not around. They're happy and when we do spend time together, we have fun... Mostly.

But it's hard not to reflect on parenting choices and obsess about them. Being a mother is hard and there's no map or how-to-guide. Every child is different and needs different things. What worked with my oldest, isn't working with the younger one. and it's hard to figure out what needs to change. They have such different personalities and approaches to life...

How do you manage your parenting? Do you feel like you know what you're doing?

Quirks

I was at a friend's party yesterday, and a group of us were talking about quirks, those odd little things that are unique to you. One of my friends said she always had to peg her clothes to the line with the same color pegs. She couldn't stand to have one green peg and one yellow one on the same item - they both had to be the same. Another friend admitted that while she's generally very untidy about putting away her laundry, she has to keep her sheets and towels folded and stacked in her linen cupboard the way they have them in hotels. Another said she always did things in fours, like it was a magic number.

My quirk is around even numbers. I hate odd numbers. When I'm reading, I'll never leave a book on chapter 8 or 10 or 14 because that means I'll have read an odd number of chapters. I always read on until 11 or 9 or whatever. If I can't because I'm running late or need to go to sleep, I'll read a few pages into the chapter so I won't be leaving it on an odd number.

These tiny OCD things are what make us human and individual. When writing realistic characters, it's important to find some quirk to make them real.

What is your personal quirk? What's your favorite character's?

Starting is hard

Starting a new book is hard. It's daunting and terrifying, even with an outline. But then, somehow, once I've started, it isn't hard anymore. Facing the blank page sucks, but as soon as I get those first words down, things start moving.

I find my first day or two is really about finding the character voice. I think I have that now, and while I'm pretty sure the first chapter I've written isn't great, I'll press on. I can revise later, once I've seen how the next few chapters pan out, where they go, if I can stick to my outline.

I've set myself realistic word count goals: 1500 words per day, 5 days a week. But I'm not going to beat myself up if I don't get there. I already know I won't get anything much done over the weekend, so I'm not too stressed about it. I know some days will be easier than others, and some days I'll sit down and nothing much will come.

Oh, the joys of experience. I'm struggling a little with knowing this is my 7th novel. 7th! That's a lot of words... So, onwards I go. I'll post weekly progress updates because I like feeling that I'm accountable. So, if next Friday I admit I'm still sitting on 3K, beat me up, okay?

How do you feel about starting new projects? Does it scare you? Excite?

Is It Getting Hot In Here?

Here's a special bloghop for Valentine's Day... Dedicated to kissing. Well, we all love those kissing scenes, right? So here's a good one from my just completed book, The Boyfriend Plague.

In the darkness of the theater, I was very aware of Bianca’s body beside me. Her elbow rested next to mine on the armrest and the heat radiating from it made my forearm tingle. Shifting in my seat, I let my arm slide closer, the fine hairs on mine tangling with the hairs on hers. A pulse of something electric passed through me. My arm buzzed and the sensation moved through me, making every inch of my body alive and ultra-aware.

Bianca turned to look at me. Her eyes glinted in the flickering light coming from the screen. Her arm pressed harder against mine, her body heat becoming a part of me. I flicked my eyes back toward the movie. Her hand wrapped around my fingers and squeezed gently. I squeezed back, thankful for the darkness, knowing my face would be bright red.

We didn’t do anything but hold hands, yet it felt illicit and dangerous. Her palm was soft and grew slightly damp the longer we held onto each other. I didn’t pull away though. The gentle pressure of her fingers made my heart swell. I became aware of an emptiness somewhere deep inside, a gnawing sense of longing I’d never experienced before. It excited and frightened me at the same time. Was this what falling in love felt like?

My whole head burned now, and I wanted it to stop before the movie ended and the lights came up. I fixed my eyes on the screen. I hadn’t paid attention to the movie at all, and had no idea what was going on. A woman lay in a hospital bed, dark hair spread across the white pillow in artful disarray. Machines droned and beeped alongside her while a handsome man knelt and wept with his head resting on her hand. The piercing sound of the machine flatlining sent a bolt of blue across my vision. The man’s crying turned to moans. He stood and pounded at the shrilling machine with his fists, beating at the hunks of glass and metal until his knuckles were raw and bleeding.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bianca leaned toward me, the hand not entwined with mine reaching up to push my hair aside.

I shook my head and ducked so she wouldn’t see the tears gushing from my eyes. I should’ve paid more attention to what movie we’d come to see. It wasn’t the right time to see this one. I glanced back at the screen, warped now by my tears, and saw me and Jules in that room.

The lump constricting my throat melted. I was really crying now, and couldn’t stop. I doubled over and tried to quiet the sobs in my knees.

“Oh, shit, Livvie. I’m sorry.” Bianca knelt on the sticky, popcorn strewn floor and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.”

I leaned into her, burying my face in her neck. Her pulse beat a regular tattoo against my cheek and her hair tickled my neck. She smelled of apple shampoo and something darker and muskier, a scent that spoke of danger. I breathed it deep into me as I worked to control my sobs. The tears slowed, grief replaced by something much more primal. I pulled Bianca closer. Her breasts pressed against my chest. She was near enough I could feel her heart beating counterpoint to mine. Sliding down in the seat, I raised my head and found her mouth with my lips.

This kiss was nothing like the ones we’d shared outside the gallery. This one was serious. Hungry. We slid down onto the filthy floor and crouched there amongst the abandoned Coke cups and moldering popcorn kernels. The scattering of other film-goers could have been on another planet for all the attention we paid them.

Bianca’s hands crept under my t-shirt. They were warm against my skin and sent shockwaves rippling through me. I fumbled with her dress, plunging my fingers down the front to fondle the damp chasm between her breasts.

Somewhere beyond us, orchestral music swelled to a crescendo. How cheesy. The thought was vague and unfocused. Bianca’s long fingers smoothed their way across my stomach, her little finger brushing across the waistband of my low cut jeans, tracing the raised scars on my hip. I couldn’t think. My mind was nothing but a red hot pool of desire.

It took us several minutes to realize the lights had come up and the credits were rolling. People rose and left their seats, ignoring our entwined bodies as they exited the theatre. I pulled away and tugged my rumpled t-shirt straight. My knees stuck to the red and gold patterned carpet and made a disgusting sucking sound when I pulled myself off the floor to sit in my seat once more.

“Found it!” Bianca cried too loudly, waving a coin at me in an exaggerated gesture. Her face was pink, her lipstick smeared.

“Oh, good,” I played along. “I wouldn’t have been able to get home without it.”

Nobody even looked our way.

I reached out a hand to help Bianca to her feet. She took it and collapsed into her chair once more. The theater was empty now, the last credits rolling off the top of the screen. We watched them disappear, not looking at each other, our breathing returning to normal. I pushed my hair back out of my face and risked a glance in her direction. Her dress hung down on one side and her shoulder peeked out from a twisted black sleeve. I stood up and straightened it for her, tugging the slippery fabric back up over the smooth, white flesh.

I’d crossed a line. I wasn’t sure what line it was, or why it was there, but I knew, as the lights came up full, that I’d moved into new territory. Bianca squeezed my hand and stood up too, leading me out of the brightened cinema without a word.

I hope you liked it! Let me know, okay?

And here we go again...

It's that time again. With Boyfriend out with betas, I need to dive into a new project. So this week I'm starting my new book. And this time, I'm going to seriously outline. I've never done more than scribble a few notes for myself before I start, and I'm beginning to think that's why I end up writing 3, 4 or 6 full drafts before I get it right.

I'd like to eliminate at least one or two drafts, so I'm going to try doing the whole outlining thing. The last time I tried it, I failed because knowing what was going to happen next made writing the book boring for me. I like being surprised by my characters and letting them go off and do the things they want to do. Outlining might stifle that. But then again, it might make it easier to get from point a to point b.

This new book I'm planning is interesting in that the first half of the book is from one character's POV, while the second is from another. At this stage, I have the first half of the book pretty well down in my head, but the second half is a little more vague. I'm hoping it will clarify when I start outlining.

Anyway. Wish me luck. As of tonight I am officially working on the new book, tentatively called Sour Plum. The aim is to finish a reasonable, critiquable (is that a word) first draft by my birthday in May. It would be sooner, but with two huge film festivals to host between now and then, I don't want to be unrealistic.

How do you outline? Or do you just go with it?

Critique Partner blogfest

• 

• Well, it's time! So here goes....

  • Title: The Boyfriend Plague

  • Genre: YA Contemporary (upper age bracket)

  • Status: finished 4th draft, so getting query ready

  • Feedback wanted: overall critique, not line by line. How does the story flow? Is the pacing okay? Do the characters engage and act appropriately?

  • Blurb/Query: Things at home are pretty rough for fifteen-year-old Livvie Quinn. After being cancer-free for almost ten years, her older sister, Jules is sick again.



  School isn’t much better. One by one her closest friends get boyfriends and have little time for Livvie – except to set her up on a series of disastrous blind dates.

Livvie seeks refuge in the art room, a place where her ability to see sounds and taste colors is something to be marveled at, not ridiculed.

  Also hiding in the art room is Bianca, object of scorn and derision throughout the school. As a friendship develops between these two outcasts, Livvie realizes why those dates were so horrible. It’s not a boyfriend she needs - it’s Bianca.

When their relationship is discovered, Livvie and Bianca are victims of cruelty more intense than even Bianca has experienced before. They are determined to stick together despite the abuse, but when the school authorities get involved and forbid the pair to attend the winter formal,

  Livvie must make some tough decisions.

With her family making demands on her that she doesn't feel she can follow, and her friends asking her to deny who she is, Livvie must decide to what lengths she is willing to go for the people she cares about.

  The first 500 words: I squirmed on the splintery wooden bench. The room was too small and the irregular buzzing that crept over the lopsided swinging doors set my teeth on edge. Each burst sent a cloud of rusty orange scattering through my skull.

  “Is this okay, Livvie?” Mel leaned over and pressed a slip of paper onto my knee.

  I studied it for a moment, still trying to shake off the burning color my synesthesia had painted the world. “Yeah. It’s perfect.” I grinned at her, but my lips trembled so much I’m sure it was more a grimace.

  “What about yours?” Mel turned to Hannah who had her paper crumpled in her fist.

  She smoothed it out against the taut fabric of her jeans. “It’s good. I don’t think Mom could tell she hadn’t signed it.”

  Mel sighed and glanced down at her own scrap of paper. “At least they’re all different. And how close are they going to look?”

  Hannah’s eyes roved the enclosed space, photographs curling on every wall. “It’s a business right? They want to make money. I bet they just ask for these things ‘cos they have to.”

  “You’re probably right.” Mel stood up and folded her permission slip back into her pocket. “I wish they’d hurry up though.”

  “Me too.” I shifted again, my butt numbing against the hard surface. Coming here had seemed a good idea, but now, after almost half an hour on the wrong side of the doors, the stinging scent of rubbing alcohol drifting across us, I wasn’t so sure.

  The swinging doors whapped open and shut, making me jump.

  “Okay. You’re up.” The voice was deep and gruff.

  We scrambled to our feet, pushing one another as we struggled not to be the first to enter the darkness beyond the doors. I ended up at the front and stepped through, taking a deep breath of air that tasted strangely metallic.

  A table draped in white cloth sat beneath a single lamp on a swinging arm. A large man sat in a battered desk chair beside it. He had a lot of hair. On his face, on his head, curling out over the scoop neck of his tank top and covering his thick arms like an animal’s pelt.

  “You girls got permission slips?” His eyes were dark brown, like chocolate drops or coffee beans, and they prowled over us.

  “Uh… Yes.” Mel dug in her pocket and pulled out her forged document.

  Hannah and I handed ours over too, and watched as he peered at the signatures.

  He tossed them into a bowl on the table behind him. “Okay. Who’s first?”

  I lay on my side on the table, my jeans pulled down to expose my left hip. While the beefy man studied the stylized number 3 we’d chosen, I ran my fingers across the small, raised scar there. In a few minutes that stark white reminder would be masked by a tattoo. I shivered.

  “Scared?” Mel looked terrified, her face white, her eyes huge.

Series, why?

Over the last week I've had two opportunities to browse around bookstores, and I naturally gravitated toward the YA shelves. Something struck me: almost all the books lined up there were series. Sure there were a few stand-alone titles, but for the most part, all the books were parts of series. Even the stand-alone titles, to a large degree, were books I know are the first part of a still-to-be published series.

Why?

As a writer, I've never had any desire to write a series or even a sequel. I'm happy to leave my characters alone after they've resolved whatever set of crises I tossed them through. Yet the shelves in the stores tell me readers must want more books about the same characters. Is it familiarity? Is it easier to slide back into a world you already know than to explore a new one? Or is it because it's easier to market series?

I'm even more intrigued because I don't especially like reading series either. I have, of course, but when I buy a book, whether it is part of a 3, 5, 11 book series is not something I take into consideration.

I'm wondering that if I want to make it, I have to think of a story big enough to span several books, or create a world that can be the setting for more than one story. The closest I come to series writing is sneaking little cameos from old characters into new books. I love doing that. You get a fresh perspective on the character, or see them older or younger than they might have been when they initially showed up. In Assignment 9 the love interest is actually a character from another book I wrote, Holding it Together. In Chasing the Taillights, the new friend Lucy makes at school is a character I first came up with for an unfinished book I tentatively called Coming Home. But reusing characters isn't the same thing as writing a series.

What do you think the appeal of series is? Do you write with the aim of creating one? Do you like slipping old characters into new books?

Independence

My seven-year-old son is growing up. All of a sudden he wants to do things by himself. I had him at work with me on Friday and he kept asking to be sent on errands, and while I did worry a little about him out there in the big bad world all alone, I let him go. And he did a fine job. He even went and bought his own lunch!

It's frightening to let him go, but at the same time, I know I need to if he's going to grow up to be any kind of responsible adult.

It's the same with manuscripts. There is a point at which you have to let it go from being that baby held against your heart and send it out into the world. And it's a frightening thing. While a book can't get mugged or kidnapped, letting it out is opening yourself to criticism and rejection. And that's scary. But at some point, a WIP has to grow up and become a manuscript that's ready to navigate the world.

But how do you decide when is the right moment?

Unlikable

I've been thinking a lot about unlikable main characters this week, and how they can be done really well. This is partly because of a MS I'm critiquing for a friend, but mostly because of a film I saw last week.

The film was utterly compelling. But the main character was anything but likable. In fact, I imagine even 10 minutes in her company would have me itching to slap her. Yet in the context of the film, I couldn't drag my eyes from the screen.

Why? It all made sense. Everything that motivated her to do the things she did rang true. Even when the things she was doing began to make less and less sense from a rational point of view, they made perfect sense from a character point of view.

And I think that is the key to writing an unlikable character that doesn't turn the reader off. It's hard.

In Chasing the Taillights, one of my critique partners pointed out that Lucy is unlikable for a large chunk of the novel. It hadn't even occurred to me that she could be seen that way, but as soon as it was pointed out, I recognized how her actions could been seen in that light. I struggled to think of ways to change it, to make her more sympathetic, but in the end I didn't. By the end of the book her reasons for acting that way are very clear, and if I'd softened her or changed her in the early part of the book, the impact of the revelations toward the end would have fallen flat. It also wouldn't have been true to the character.

Do you like unlikable characters? What draws you to them?

Patience, my dear....

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not the most patient person around. Waiting for public transport makes me snaky. The other night, rather than standing around waiting for a taxi to arrive, I walked home (which took almost an hour).

So all the waiting that goes on in the journey to be published makes me very antsy. You send your MS to beta readers/critique partners, and you wait. You send queries out. And you wait. You send manuscripts out, full or partial, and you wait. Even after you get an agent, the waiting doesn't stop. You still wait while the book is being pitched to editors. And then, once the book has been acquired, you have to wait until it comes out.

That's a lot of waiting!

Good thing I always have a lot to do to keep myself from obsessing over it. I'd go crazy if I didn't. So these days, I send my baby off and dive right into something else so I can forget about how long I might have to wait. Because it can be a long time. A very long time...

How do you deal with the waiting game?