On Summer and Writing

Kayaking Fox Island. Ahhhhlaska.

Pardon the absence, but I've been having summer. Delicious, watermelon-splattered, sunburned, real-deal Summer. Alaska has missed out, these past few years, and we are duly obligated to spend as much time outdoors as possible. My son leaves the breakfast table in a hurry these days, anxious to meet up with the Evergreen Street Biker Gang and another morning of tag, races, and the cheap yard sprinkler I bought on sale last non-summer. Hubster and I spent a weekend at secluded Kenai Fjords Wilderness Lodge near Seward. Life, in a curvy sort of way, is pretty good right now.

Not a bad draft, I think. 

Web Guy came through with a set of spectacular maps that impressed the UA Press production editor, and we met a few weeks ago for a final viewing and the official send-off. According to the "Steps in Process from Proposat to Book" sheet, still hanging above my desk, we are now in the phase of "Manuscript Copyedited." In a few weeks I should be seeing the framework of what will eventually be "Alaska On the Go: Exploring the 49th state with children."

Then, summer weather or no, I'm back at the desk, feverishly reading and reviewing and changing stuff for the final time, and working on a cover.

UnCruise. I do it.

In the meantime, I'm off to southeast Alaska as the host of a Kids in Nature trip with UnCruise Adventures, a small ship cruise line based in Seattle. Seven days in Glacier Bay, Alaska, with no internet, no phone, and no deadlines.

I can deal with that. Oh yes, indeed, I can.

Thumbs, Twiddling

Lots of things happen when you send a book to the publisher.

The tax receipts get organized.

The house suddenly gets a lot cleaner.

The family dresses up like vegetables and animals and goes running.

The writer's eyes uncross.

However, other, less productive things, tend to happen as well. Anxious moments in front of the computer, double-checking the "sent mail" tab to make sure the manuscript did, in fact, reach its destination. Bordering on obsession, this multiple-times-a-day checking is wearing out my keyboard, and my husband's nerves. Sorry, dear.

There's also a lot of thumb-twiddling. Oh, I have a lot of projects awaiting my attention, some really great ones. But with the Timeline to Publish tacked to the wall directly above my desk, it's hard to ignore the fact that a 95, 000-word book is at this moment being copied and sent to the members of Publishing House's advisory board. Holy crap.

The good news is that I wrote a book. A whole book. I met a great acquisitions editor, who really likes this project and how I framed the combination of ancedotal experience and honest how-to instructions about bringing kids to Alaska.

I heard yesterday at a tourism forecast luncheon that a million people are expected to visit Alaska via cruise ship this summer. Just think how many of them might buy a book about family travel for a grandchild's parent, or rethink the wisdom of leaving said children or grandchildren at home for a lack of information about Alaska and kids. Almost blows the mind.

And re-crosses my eyes.

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."

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.

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!

A Wild Pitch?

Editor and I have finally finished a solid pitch for Alaska on the Go: Exploring the 49th State With Children. Bundled up with more care than a baby, it's ready to travel with me on June 8 to Homer and the Kachemak Bay Writer's Conference, my first-ever formal gathering of writing people. I have an appointment with an agent, with hope that someone will publish my book.

The manuscript itself is coming along. I'm halfway through - after tonight's completion of the cruising section. Next up is Fairbanks and Denali National Park, put on hold while I finished the cruisers.

I spent last weekend in Fairbanks, meeting with the Fairbanks Convention and Visitors Bureau and wandering the city and surrounding area, sans child and spouse. Amazing how much ground I can cover this way. But I missed my traveling partners.

Responses from travel industry professionals has been overwhelming, in a positive way. Rarely a day goes by that someone reaches out and expresses their happiness that someone from Alaska is writing a book about visiting the state with kids. I'm happy about that, but even happier to discover their support for the project. I feel incredibly validated that I am doing the right thing, even though some days, it feels so stressful.

To Catch a Cruise

Editor and I have been working hard this month, preparing a pitch, gathering legacy publisher information, and writing, writing, writing.

Since Editor wants me to pitch this book to an agent while down in Homer for the Kachemak Bay Writer's Conference next month, I've had to put a hold on Fairbanks and the Interior sections of Alaska, focusing instead on the subject of cruising.

Cruising, mind you, is how 80% of Alaska visitors arrive in the state, and with almost one million people embarking and/or disembarking via gangplanks, there is subsequently much to write about.
Cruise companies, as a whole, have been quite accommodating, sending me tons of flowery statements describing their features, services, and amenities available to traveling families. All, that is but one.

Disney.

Disney, it seems, is rather reluctant to share their close, personal cruise information with anybody. Everything must be hidden in Mickey and Donald's heads.

I am in "negotiations" with a Disney paralegal to figure out exactly what I am allowed to publish, why, and how. And hell-fire and damnation from with Wicked Stepmother if I don't follow the Happiest Place On Earth's rules.

This is bound to be good drama.

"You're Writing a Book? Great. When?"

That's what my husband said when I mentioned, over a glass of throaty Merlot, how much I would like to write a book. A guide, actually. A guide to exploring Alaska with children, specifically.

Hubs' very valid question of "when" came at our return from two weeks aboard the Alaska Marine Highway System, where we relaxed and recreated 24-7 the Inside Passage of southeast AK. Our (okay, my) website and blog, AKontheGO, had seen a fine year of increasing attention by the travel powers-that-be; people who see the value of stroking a family travel writer to encourage intrepid parents about their own immersion into the 49th state beyond that which cruise ships advertise (and I adore our cruise industry).

But my spouse knows me well, and understands writing is akin to breathing for his wife, so he poured another glass of wine, settled himself in a deck chair, and said "Tell me about it." Three hours later, I had a concept, a few ideas for publishing, and three pages full of scribbled notes.

I timidly approached a former editor whose "AWESOME!" response gave me hope. I sketched an outline (and promptly became discouraged at how many pages appeared for one book), and began to mention to certain circles my plan of action.

People cheered, they high-fived, they poured more wine. I found an editor whose calm and professional personality belies my slightly frenetic, OCD one. I created a writing schedule, cleaned out my office, and frantically began contacting my travel industry peeps.

So here I am. And now, here you are, following along. This is the place to ask questions, give me feedback, and offer your best suggestions when I ask "Have you ever been to....?" or "What's your favorite family-friendly restaurant in.....?"

"Alaska On the Go: Exploring the 49th State With Children" is a big idea in a big state. Somehow, though the two seem to fit.

Bring it on.