Wednesday, November 9, 2011

A Day in the Life of... Brooke Moss!


Welcome to Stitch Read Cook's weekly feature!!

A Day in the Life of..

This is where us bloggers & fans get a glimpse inside the days of our favorite authors!

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Brooke writes complex, character-driven stories about kismet, reunited lovers, first love, and the kind of romance that we should all have the change at finding.  She prefers her stories laced with some humor just for fun and enough drama to keep her readers flipping the pages, and begging for more!

When Brooke isn't spinning tales, she spends her time drawing/cartooning, reading two books in a week (ask her who her faves are), watching movies then comparing them to books, and of course wrangling four kids, one hubby she lovingly refers to as her "nerd", and attempting to conquer the Mount Everest of laundry that is the bane of her existence.


A DAY IN THE LIFE OF BROOKE MOSS

Hello there! My name is Brooke Moss, and my debut novel, The What If Guy, released in August of 2011. I have a confession: I’m not really Brooke Moss. *Gasp*

Around these parts, which is actually known as the suburbs of eastern Washington State, I am known as “Mom”. And my kids never, ever let me forget it.

As much as I want to say that my life is full of exciting interviews and plenty of *ahem* research…alas, it is not. Not many of my friends understand why I am so busy. After all, I work from home! All I do is sit around and write stories, right?

Um…not so much. And here is an example of why:

2am: I finally stumble to my bed, exhausted from spending the last five hours up on my much-needed writing time.

6:50am: My alarm goes off….and I say a plethora of curse words, and quite possibly cry.
 I stumble out of bed and go to wake up my twelve year old son.

7:05am: Sit down at my laptop to make my first tweets, and Facebook statuses of the day, and advertise blogs that I am on & hosting for the day.

7:30am: Help the twelve year old fix his hair, because even though he has no interest in remembering to brush his teeth, having the “right hair” is the most important thing in the entire world.

7:40am: Wake up my nine year old daughter, and the three and four year old maniacs boys.

7:45am: Pack everyone in the car—which is a chore in and of itself—into the minivan.

8am: Return home from the first round of carpooling, and start the arduous process of getting the remaining three kids dressed.

8:15-8:20am: Breakfast for the remaining kids. Pop tarts all around.

8:30am: I will try—and fail—at fixing my daughters’ hair. Fight will ensue.

8:45am: Daughter’s ride to school will arrive, and (of course) she won’t be ready yet.

9am: I turn on a movie for the three and four year old. When they are finally distracted, I sit down and work on guest blogs for the week.

10am: It is then that I realize I haven’t eaten breakfast, and usually proceed to eat my weight in cheese and leftover Halloween candy.

10:15am: The boys sit down to play or paint while I try to finish up a few more blog posts. It is usually around this time that I feel like I am so tired I might keel over and take a lamp down with me.

10:30a,m: The boys will want another snack. I will say no. They will scream.

10:40am: Housework…..returning phone calls, texts, emails…

11am: Pack the boys into the car to run any errands that need to be done.

11:05am: Realize that I am still in my pajamas, and jet home to throw on some jeans.

11:15am: Come back home (again) because I forgot my wallet. Again.

11:30am: Charge into the post office only to wait in line for 20 minutes.

11:50am: Arrive home and throw some food at my four year old.

12:10pm: Deliver four year old to preschool ten minutes late, where he has a meltdown in the minivan because I won’t let him wear the Darth Vader Helmet to class.

12:20pm: Arrive back at home with the three year old, and eat a cookie…or seven…to comfort myself after making all of the pretty, skinny moms and teachers at my son’s school think I might be schizophrenic.

12:45pm: I now start prompting the three year old that it is time for him to lay down to take a nap.

1:15pm: I wake up, drooling on my son’s pillow as he plays Leggos on the foot of the bed nearby.

1:20pm: I sneak off to return some texts, emails, and blog comments. This process is quickly thwarted by the aroma coming from my kitchen garbage.

1:30pm: Again…housework time. I spend the next half hour returning phone calls while I load the dishwasher, make the beds, start a load of laundry, and fold the wrinkled clothes that have been sitting in the dryer since last week.

2pm: My three year old is happily coloring pictures while he watches Finding Nemo—again—and so I sit down to do what I’ve been fantasizing about doing all morning: writing.

2:05pm: I realize my stomach is growling so hard that I am hunched over my keyboard.

2:15pm: I sit down to write…again. And then I smell something. *sniff sniff* When I look over at three year old…I realize that he looks extremely guilty.

2:30pm: After changing my son’s messy pants, I put him into the minivan… which reminds me…I still haven’t fixed my hair or put on a stitch of makeup. Great.

2:40pm: Pick up my four year old at preschool where he announces, very loudly, that I have different socks on, and that I have bad breath.

2:45pm: I pull up outside my twelve year olds’ middle school five minutes late, while throwing baggies of crackers over the seats at the four and three year olds’ so that they have something to munch on while we enter carpool hell.

3pm: Pull up in front of my daughter’s grade school, and put the car in park. I pull out my laptop to write for a bit while we wait, and my twelve year old scowls at me when I make him work on his homework.

3:10pm: My daughter is released from school, and promptly jokes, “Nice hair, Mom.” Oops, still haven’t fixed it.

3:15pm: We return home to start homework and chores. Otherwise known as “The Gauntlet” in our home.

3:45pm: I realize that my husband will be home in an hour and forty-five minutes, and I’m still in the shirt I was wearing when I went to bed.

3:55pm: I realize, while trying to cover up the circles under my eyes with pancake foundation that my daughter is due at piano lessons in five minutes.

4pm: I pull the minivan out of the garage.

4:03pm: I pull back into the garage to grab the check I wrote to the piano teacher.

4:15pm: This is when I also discover that I forgot to pull anything out of the freezer for dinner.

4:30pm: Everyone is busy…maybe I can get some writing done!

4:35pm: Open laptop and realize that I’ve got 128 emails to go through, 6 tweets to return, 11 Facebook messages to reply to, and 9 blog comments to respond to.

4:45pm: I realize that I forgot to pick up my daughter at piano.

5pm: I arrive home and start making dinner…which will most likely be a quickie meal of some sort because I forgot to buy at least 5 things at the store earlier.

5:20pm: I try to sneak in some writing time while the dinner cooks, but my nine year old needs to gossip with me about how crabby her teacher is.

5:30pm: This is when my husband comes home, and I weep with relief.

5:45pm: I realize that when I answered the much needed “buck up and put your big girl panties on” call from my critique partner, I let dinner burn.

6pm: We all eat pizza, and I try extra, super hard to focus on my kids and husbands conversation, instead of the scene that has been nagging and poking the back of my mind all…day…long.

6:30pm: I begin the very wet process of bathing my three & four year olds.

7pm: My husband graciously offers to take over while I lock myself in my office to work…this is usually a futile effort, because my office door doesn’t have a lock.

7:10pm: Daughter comes in to talk about clothes.

7:15pm: Twelve year old comes in to gripe about math.

7:25: My four year old comes in with a roll of toilet paper, asking me to wipe him.

7:30pm: My three year old comes in to say goodnight. This is the point at which I give up and rejoin the family.

8pm: I sneak onto my phone to answer the additional 46 emails I’ve acquired since my last check.

8:30pm: Time to put the four year old to bed…happy dance!

9pm: Older kids go brush their teeth…getting closer.

9:15pm: I kiss my husband who acts like the last three hours nearly killed him. I snicker, and call him an amateur.

9:20pm: I breathe a sigh of relief, hunker down in my office, and start the work I so treasure. Writing.

As you can see…in my life, writing is just one of a million things I do over the course of a day. But it is always on my mind. I’m doing the job I was meant to do, and I’m raising a beautiful family while I do it. I guess you could say I’ve got the best of both worlds…even if I never did get around to fixing my hair.

Find me elsewhere on the web, at my websiteblogTwitterGoodreads, and Facebook

3 comments:

  1. Love it Brooke! You do great work!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Did I count right?? Seven kids? And I thought my five were a lot! LOL

    ReplyDelete
  3. No wait, I must've read it wrong. I think you have 4. LOL See, this is 5 does to the brain!

    ReplyDelete

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