Why 95,000 Words Can't Be Wrong

After weeks of anxious nail-biting, gallons of coffee, and late nights, it has been completed. Alaska On the Go: Exploring the 49th State With Children was pushed northward in November.

This poor blog had been woefully neglected since late September, I admit it. But between bringing one child home from an out-of state school to begin life as a young adult managing autism, and sending another off to second grade, and working on various freelance projects, and the manuscript, everything else got shoved aside.

My calendar was blocked off for three or four or more hours a day, and I lived in fleece pants, Adidas slippers, and my favorite Alaska Brewing Company hoodie. But one day, it was done.

I changed my clothes, drove to meet Editor at our favorite coffee shop, made a few logistical adaptations, said a quick prayer for safe travels, and hit "send."

Refusing to consider the parking ticket I had on my car when I left the University of Alaska campus as a bad omen, I turned up my Brandi Carlile CD and sang the entire way home.

A few encouraging emails later from the acquisitions editor, and my manuscript was on its way to external reviewers; parents who travel and a savvy bunch of people indeed. I hate criticism, who doesn't? But darned if these people liked what I said, save for some great ideas and suggestions I should have probably anticipated anyway.

So here I am again, making some changes, adding some things, and crafting a letter to the publishing house's advisory board.

The best part? A sentence from Acquisitions Editor.

"...I'm attaching our boilerplate contract so you can get a sense of the document."

Calling All Kids! Alaska On the Go Needs YOU!

I'm so almost there. Just a few more places, a few more tweaks, a few more long nights, and this thing is on its way to Editor.

In an effort to make this not only an informative exploration of Alaska with kids, but a fun read, I've decided to add one more cool feature - voices from kids, themselves.

Called "KidSpeak," and similar to to the ParentPoints concept provided by willing grownups, KidSpeak will be real-life, honest, and hopefully endearing accounts by kids about their favorite Alaska stuff. Any stuff is acceptable; activities, restaurants, clothes, airplanes, fishing.....my only requirement is that it comes from their precious little hearts and mouths. There is NO age limit; any child who can utter a sound is welcome to contribute (although mom or dad may have to translate for me).

Specifically, I need KidSpeak about the following subjects: 

Favorite activities when it's summer, winter, and in between

Fishing quotes

Wild animal quotes (favorite/non favorite)

Weather

Driving on road trips (strategies/tips from big kids would be great, too)

Favorite restaurants (anywhere in AK)

Cruising (day cruising, and multi-day cruises)

Interested? Send me your kids' quotables, their first names and ages, to: togoak@gmail.com. 
Deadline to contribute is Friday, September 28.

Danke!

EK

Perma-Wrinkles and My Support Staff

Nobody told me writing a huge book would translate into permenant wrinkles upon my forehead and around my eyes. In fact, nobody told me that when I write, I frown and squint and purse my lips as if I were sucking on a straw filled with sour lemonade. It would still be a mystery to me, and quite an acceptable one, in my thinking,  had my husband not taken a sneaky photo while I wasn't looking last weekend.

This past month has been full of words, and with an end of the draft manuscript of Alaska On the Go: Exploring the 49th State With Children in sight (I still can't believe I actually wrote such a volume of information about Alaska), I'm pounding the keys in an effort to ship this book to the prospective publisher by December 1.

Anyway, back to the perma-wrinkles. Our family took a few extra days off over the Labor Day weekend holiday to explore the way-back wilds of McCarthy and Kennecott Mines National Historic Landmark, a long, long way from Anchorage. After eight hours of driving along first the Glenn, then the Richardson, then the ancient Edgerton highway(s), we arrived at a surreal example of how Alaska probably looked when miners and saloon owners held claim to much of the settled landscape. It was fabulous. We hiked, we mountain biked, we ate a lot, then we slept. Surprisingly in the midst of all this recreation and rest I found time to work, especially one rainy, cold day when I kicked my family out the door and spent a few hours with laptop, coffee mug, and an exceptionally personal view from the living room of Kennicott Glacier Lodge.

I was so involved in my feverish desire to finish "just this section" that I failed to notice my husband lurking near the doorway, bike helmet on head and smartphone in hand, repeatedly hitting buttons.

"Did you know you're cute when you're working?" he casually asked, flipping through photos he'd taken, like a talent agent perusing a portfolio. A muffled giggle from behind the door signaled an appearance by our son, 7, who is just beginning to think it weird that his mom and dad actually say things like that to each other. Ick. And Hardly.

Don't even ask to look.

A Touch of Nature

"What is the point of being alive if you don't at least try to do something remarkable?" - John Green 

I cannot imagine better motivation for a travel writer than time aboard a small boat exploring the previously unexplored. In a most intimate way, our family was blessed to have this opportunity - we'd been to southeast Alaska, of course, but had never seen Alaska from this perspective.

Our wide-eyed 7 year-old witnessed Alaska's raw wildness. Orcas thrashing a sea lion around, humpback whales cooperatively feeding, a young and slightly scrawny brown bear obviously new at the game of fishing. My husband entered a kayak for the first time since a bike accident nearly took his life a year ago. And me? For seven days I hiked through rainforests with no trails other than those I created with my XtraTufs, paddled around coves shared only by my cohorts and a raft or two of sea otters, and woke up every single morning to sit on the top deck of the boat, lifting a coffee cup of salute to the day. It was good. Really, really good.

Some days, I write out of sheer willpower. I know I have to do it; it's on my schedule, and to finish on time (hell, to simply go to bed without a guilty feeling in my gut) I must write, at least at little. Every once in a while, though, mother nature tickles my muse, and things are so incredibly right that I cannot imagine this book not being successful. Or, at least, completed.

Of course it helped to meet with the potential (probable?) publisher the night before I left to share a beer and talk about Alaska, kids, and the way this whole dance of bookdom will progress over the next year.  I boarded the Wilderness Discoverer with a desire to relax and rejuvinate, and disembarked last Saturday with a clearer head and a sense of Alaska's undeniable ability to amaze me.

Remarkable.

In My Own Little World....

Both husband and son were away this week at their respective destinations. Hubs was visiting older son in Denver, CO, and younger son was immersed in the wilds of cub scout camp. Which meant, friends, I had an entire house to myself. 

Late nights, lots of coffee, endless dog jogs, and my favorite music went a long way toward four solid days of writing bliss. I understand with complete clarity why many famous writers became somewhat reclusive. When one reaches the halfway point of a book, just when things are flowing along and word counts are positively flying from the fingers, a distraction comes along and stomps on the muse. For better or worse, it does. 

Not all distractions are negative; heck, the incredible weather of last week jockeyed for position with my desire to finish the Denali National Park section. I usually don't mind, but the ability to cancel out the background noise without having to leave my own cozy office was an incredible gift this week, especially when I'm due to meet with the potential publisher on Thursday. 

We leave on Friday morning for a week exploring the inner coves of southeast Alaska, from Ketchikan to Juneau and everywhere in between. I look forward to more opportunities for fingers to keyboard without the added distraction of internet and phone service. Perhaps we'll finish this thing on time, if the planets keep aligning as they have. 

Grand Plans

When someone asks me why it's taking so long to finish Alaska On the Go, I retort by inquiring if they've managed to visit every kid-friendly destination in the 49th state. Alaska has more coastline than most of the Lower 48, is twice the size of Texas (sorry, pardners), and features activities ranging from placid to perfectly crazy, and everything in between. And I'm just one mama.

Not used to writing more than 600-1,000 words for one project, the notion of writing 6,000-8,000 words per section feels uncomfortable. Daunting, in fact. Frustrating, even, on occasion. We visit one place, gather our information, talk to wonderful people, learn tons about history, culture, and/or recreation, and then those people talk to their people, who subsequently call me to refer additional people, and a whole new idea is formed.

This could take a while.

Last week I had a desert moment, wondering if there was any way I could finish this thing before the glaciers completely recede. In between cups of coffee and an incredibly non-structured summer schedule for my family, I swung between wild enthusiasm and ever-darkening clouds of trepidation. Could I possibly put together a guide all by myself? Is this project even worth it?

On Thursday, my youngest son and I drove north to Denali National Park. An impulsive move on my part, I needed information and couldn't quite place geography together with activity, given that my last true exploration of DNP was 15 years ago.

The sun came out, the bugs were few, and the hiking, spectacular. As I watched my seven year-old search for ground squirrels and scramble up rocky slopes, I was glad we were here. I was glad, too, for this book, for the time it gives me with a fast-growing young boy who, all-too-soon, will be a young man.

Parents Know Best: Have a ProTip?

Excitement about Alaska On the Go: Exploring the 49th State With Children is building. What's the best part? The role other parents will play in the ultimate success of this book.

It's of paramount importance to feature real, live Alaskans deep within the pages of Alaska On the Go, so other parents don't end up wondering about, and wandering around our state only thinking they know what they're doing. They will know, because other parents will have told them.

Parent ProTips - that's what I'm calling these little breakout boxes scattered throughout the book. Insights, helpful ideas, thoughts, and funny stories about traveling the highways and byways of Alaska with children. From camping to packing, Alaska's moms and dads have sent me their favorite experiences and most excellent advice, and this book will be better for it.

Currently, I'm searching for parental wisdom in the following areas: 

Prince William Sound, Valdez, Cordova, and activities thereabouts

Denali National Park and surrounding environs

Fishing

Far-flung Alaska adventures, including bear-viewing, fly-in fishing/camping, backpacking, and Bush Alaska trips

Have a thought to share? I'd love to hear about it. Typically, Parent ProTips are short; two or three sentences are sufficient. Shoot me an email at togoak@gmail.com if you have a great story or idea. We'll build this book together!