Doin' Time on my Behind

My Public Service Announcement

2009-11-02T22:01:00.006-05:00

As I begin planning Christmas care packages for my son... thinking about the military persons who don't have family members who are able to send much while their loved ones are deployed always weighs heavily on my mind.

I never knew how difficult a military life can be; both on the service person and on the family members who are left at home during deployments. Yes, most military folks never complain. (I say most, because I end up complaining alot. I miss my children when they are so far away.)

A wonderful way to give to our troops is through www.anysoldier.com. You can search to find troops in the country you would like to donate to. You can find photos and letters and descriptions of things they experience. You can choose to give to a group of medics, mechanics, or a religious leader. Through anysoldier, the packages go directly to the troops. Please know that our guys/gals are thrilled to get our support and mail call is often what keeps them going. The Holidays are FAST approaching and I've been told that the time frame to have Holiday packages to troops in parts of Afghanistan is the end of November/very early December.

Thank you.
:)
** photo-- 2/321st (ABN) - Team Apocalypse Mail Call!!!!!!!!

Nanowrimo -- Day 2

2009-11-02T21:44:00.003-05:00

I'm a wrimo. Day two. And so far, it's going better than expected. I'm at 6,032 words. I don't have a title and I have no idea what exactly plot is. I don't even quite know what genre I'm in. But I've got 6,032 words! And I feel slightly more optimistic than I did last year. The topic is certainly something that I'm very familiar with so I can ramble on and on. I just don't know if I can get something publishable out of it. But that's not necessarily the point at this time is it (the editing part)? It's just the daily writing and the word count. The thing I need the most help with; getting my butt in the chair (or my tummy on the floor with a pad of paper and my fancy pen) and write, write, write.

Good luck fellow wrimos!!

NaNoWriMo

2009-10-20T23:06:00.007-04:00

Well, I'm trying it again this year. Last year I didn't do so good. This year might go a little better. I'm feeling pessimistic (mainly because I'm my own worst enemy). But, I'm giving it a try because one of my main problems is sitting every day and writing. NaNoWriMo will help with that. Right?

Then while exploring the NaNo pages, I found an interview of Cylithria Dubois, Marine Corps novelist. WOW! That interview knocked my socks off and made me teary-eyed. She participated, and won, while deployed in Iraq. Geesh, I have no excuse except that I just don't do it. Period. Case closed. (I can hear my son's voice in my head say "Roger that". I've been hearing his voice say that alot lately. Stinker! Okay, Okay. Nothing to it but to do it. I hear you)

Thank you Cylithria for the boost. Thank you for sharing your story.

The good news is that prior to reading the interview, I had already managed to write about 1,900 words tonight. Not on any of my WIPs specifically. But I did write. For a decent period of time. It was a good night.

Exercise

2009-10-17T22:52:00.007-04:00

I have been planning on blogging for the past four days. But I felt too random. I have such an adrenaline rush from the exercise I got during Nathan Bransford’s first paragraph contest. I’ve been immersed in thinking, writing, and reading about first paragraphs… what writers do and what readers want. And in the meantime, I’ve read a few assorted blogs about jealousy when others are published and successful. And saw some negative comments about the subjectivity of writing contests. I still can’t manage a thoughtful, linear blog…so how about some blurps?

• Oh my gosh, I had so much fun looking at my work and thinking about my openings. Holy cow, they weren’t openings. So I ended up getting some good exercise writing an opening.

• Now I find myself standing in line at the grocery, driving in the car, and other assorted places, looking at people and imagining opening paragraphs for them. (For the loud lady on her cell phone behind me at the post office – nearly yelling in my ear – inching forward on my heels every time I inched forward to get her out of my ear, I imagined a murder mystery opening.)

• Wow, I pushed my limit and put something out there for others to read. And it turned out to be A LOT of others. And a lot of strongly opinionated others. And I enjoyed it. (yes, too many “ands”. I know.)

• I don’t understand how people could feel like they need to express that a writing contest is subjective. Um, no kidding. And then I don’t know why people get upset if they don’t get chosen, after all, it’s subjective. Maybe my philosophy is just different all the way around. I thought every grade I got through college, except math, was subjective. What a wonderful exercise in subjectivity.

• I learned that some people like “grab me by the throat” openings and some people don’t. Since I was forced to think more closely about openings, I realized that I tend to like a certain type of opening also. I like to know who I’m with and where. I like to hear the voice. But most importantly, the movie reels in my head have to start spinning. I don’t mean I need all of that descriptive, poetic, lengthy stuff. Nah. I mean, the poetic writing can be there, but it doesn’t have to be poetic or lengthy. I need just enough of the “good stuff” for the mental visual. The opening can be a little slow as long as I can “see” it. I’m still wet-behind-the-ears enough that I have trouble defining the “good stuff”. But when I’m reading a book and the author is telling me instead of showing me, I could point that out. That’s not the “good stuff.”

• I’m not put off by curses, as long as it fits the character. What I DO NOT want to read is a drug addict going into an intervention saying “well ding-dang-diddley, this makes me peeved”. (unless it's an old, Bible-thumpin', non-cursing drug addict that is going into an intervention. Then it would fit).

• I’m not put off by “grab me by the throat” openings, as long as I can “see” it.

• A few recent blogs discuss jealousy when others are published or more successful. I’ve always been an oddball, so maybe that’s my problem. But when I saw a familiar name in the finalists list, I was way excited. I didn’t feel jealous. Or less-than. When I feel less-than, I can feel like that without anyone around me being successful. I don’t need their help. I feel like that most every time I pick up a pen or start typing. But not when someone I know (or know of) becomes successful. Of course, this was “just” a paragraph. I’m sure I’ll feel a little differently when I’ve completed an entire novel and the “prize” is money among other things. But right now, I was excited when I saw a familiar name chosen (Yeah, Travis!) Someone please remind me to think about this topic again after I become published and see if it feels differently then.

• I followed Nathan’s contest while at work. So I kept getting interrupted and losing my place. I think I read around 200-300 entries. Of those I read, my favorite was chosen for the long list. That was exciting for me. A little validating that someone else has similar taste. That I could pick a winner. Too bad I can’t do that with lottery tickets.

So… I’m getting lots of writing exercise. This contest was quite a workout. And I’m feeling all pumped up. Trouble is, I’m still not writing on any of my WIPs on a daily basis. Geesch, what’s my problem?

Pssst... Thank you Patrice for your kind words!

Good News

2009-10-13T20:50:00.003-04:00

Ah... good news, good news. I followed a blog to a new blog(new to me) that is hosting a contest. Nathan Bransford is hosting a first paragraph contest. HURRY! It ends Thursday! Follow the link in my "Sites I Visit" list. So, I was initially extremely excited to enter the contest and begin looking at my work. And the excitement dissipated quickly. I discovered that my opening paragraphs of my two WIPS (if we can call them that at this point) aren't really paragraphs. They are dialogues and choppy bits. Oh my gosh, here's an opportunity, but lo and behold the openings turn out to not be openings after all. There's nothing that grabs attentions, builds excitement, or really moves the reader along. YIKES! So, I searched through my rambling and found a section that turned out to be better suited to be the opening after all! I tried to shape it up a little bit and I posted it to the contest.

I was nervouse to put something out there, in front of others to read. But I did it!!

Wow, there are alot of very good opening paragraphs there. I really don't stand a chance. But I'm thrilled that I gave it a try. I'm so much farther along than I was last year. Thank you to all of the author-bloggers who have been teaching me so much this past year or so. *muah*

Golly-gee, at this rate, I might have an entire first draft by the time I'm 60-something.

Other assorted good news: Oldest son is still working safely in Afghanistan. Communication has been limited but he's safe and that's what counts. Youngest son got his wisdom teeth out today and is as sassy as always. Has spent his "sick day" texting me. The extra communication has been Heavenly.

Pride

2009-10-07T21:23:00.004-04:00

I had been working on a blog topic about being an army mom during a deployment, and sure enough, I left the word file at work. But I have been busy writing tonight, making some progress, and feeling extra happy about being on my behind (writing). Also, I’m feeling extra proud of my child and I decided to post a photo anyway.

I can’t believe that not long ago I was blogging about my impatient waiting for my youngest son to return from Iraq. What a happy welcome home vacation that turned into! Now my oldest has gone off to Afghanistan and I’m in the beginning of “my” third deployment.

To the guys and gals of the 82nd Airborne…. 4-73 Cav: I’ve re-written this paragraph five times now. I can’t find the appropriate words to express my thankfulness and my pride. I’ll leave it with:

You

Amaze

Me.

To my son… you know I’m proud of you. Stay safe. Stay happy. Come home soon.

PS. While uploading the photo for this and making final adjustments, someone pounded on our door. It was 9:30 pm. I peeked out the peeky hole and there were two men in dress shirts, ties, and khaki raincoats on the landing. I opened the door expecting the worst. Turned out to be only detectives in the neighborhood telling us something very mundane about our truck. I shut the door and barely kept myself from fainting. There should be a law that no strangers are allowed to knock on the door of military parents during deployment. It's too hard on our old hearts!

**photo: US Military

Criticism

2009-09-27T17:41:00.009-04:00

I just finished reading a book that kept me interested (not an easy thing to do since my mind is completely overwhelmed with work issues and deployment issues.) The book was Too Close to Home by Linwood Barclay. I LOVED how I was trying to guess whodunit and what was going to happen next , something I can usually guess but couldn’t quite figure out this time. There was enough foreshadowing to know that people were involved in a certain way, but not enough to guess the details. And I liked the amount of characters in the book. HOLY CRAP! I can’t even decide how to let one or two characters move about in an interesting and coherent way... and without a bunch of derailing side trips. Barclay has many characters moving around the story.

I haven’t blogged in forever, and I’m not a book critic, so why am I blogging about a book? Because I have so many thoughts about writing and what various people have said about books. Pat Wood has talked about feedback she got about her characters, language, and behaviors. And I thought Lottery characters were some of the most real characters I’ve ever read. (I’m not a stalker Pat, really! You just tend to talk about things that are on my mind. But if you’d like to send me an autographed photo AND your bank account number that would be fabulous ;) ). In undergrad, we talked forever about some of the “classics” but when it was time to talk about The Bluest Eye, the students and professor were all very quick to end the discussion about the book because there was a “creepy” and “uncomfortable” section of the book that “wouldn’t happen in real life so why’d she put it in the book?”. And now on Amazon, I see that some of the negative reviews for a book I liked, Too Close to Home, include comments that it’s not realistic. After all, highbrow artsy folks wouldn’t curse. OMG! Really?! Artistic folks don’t use profanity, especially in front of the children? And that makes the book unbelievable? Apparently not all highbrows run in the same circles.

As a person who is trying to learn to write, I appreciated the good parts of Barclay’s book. I was always anxious to get a chance to pick it up and get back to the story. As a person who is trying to learn to write, I read the reviews and ended up a little more intimidated. Yikes! If they don’t believe Barclay’s characters, I don’t think they’ll believe mine. I’ve actually met people who are greedy over inheritances, who are artsy and well educated and who use the F*** word, and people who have had incestuous relationships with their children. Not only is it believable … it’s real life. If I don’t write about that, what will I write about? If I believe it because I’ve seen it, but my readers don’t/haven’t… then what? No matter how much I believe it, ultimately I need the readers to believe it. Published writers ……I don't know how do you do it!!!

Writing is like moss

2009-03-16T20:51:00.005-04:00

There is something about hiking along the river that made me think about my writing. I think about my writing a lot, if I wrote as much as I think about it, I’d have 10 novels by now. But hiking the river, in the drizzle this weekend, made me more thoughtful than usual.

Maybe it’s because we hiked past a rock formation that had previously been the star of one of my rambling journals. A year ago, the main character had been a middle-aged woman who hiked to the top of a steep hill to explore the boulders, only to find that it was haunted. Yesterday, we hiked up the hill to see the crevice again. Strange. It was not as big nor as formidable as it had been in my story.

Maybe it’s because my writing is like the water, flowing and moving, constantly there. I can see all kinds of neat stuff around me... bits and pieces. But I can’t ever see the beginning and can’t ever find the end.

Maybe it’s because I feel like my writing is much like the forest floor, fertile and supporting lots of new growth. But like the moss, it doesn’t yet seem like a big deal. Something that people would step on or step over without batting an eye. Something that no one else would care about. Or even worse, something that other people would perceive as ickky!

Progress: Still writing but having great difficulty thinking about plot. Still looking for the “so what?” However, my characters are getting easier to imagine. The other day I was standing in line at the donut store and as I watched people interact, it seemed like it would be something my character would say or do. I wrote 7 pages about it. I have lots of little scenes, but I can’t seem to get things to join together yet.

I'm just sayin'

2009-03-12T23:15:00.003-04:00

Once upon a time, I went to work with an eye so black it was bright purple. A complete ring of bruise. I told all who asked my plausible story about how I was injured at my second job.

We all went to the break room at lunch and sat around the plywood table, the chattier women talking non-stop as usual. As I sat there, quiet as usual, not one of the women addressed me. Instead, they talked about me and around me. They made their declarations for the entire break….
“If my man ever hit me, I’d kick his ass."
“There’s no way a man would EVER hit me more than once”
“If a woman doesn’t leave, maybe she’s asking for it”

No one spoke to me directly. No one asked my opinion about any of it. They spoke loudly for all the room to hear, including the other tables filled with men and women.

The shame and judgement I felt at that moment was far greater than any split lip, black eye, or broken bone I had been at risk of receiving. Any thought I had of asking for help, was extinguished in those 20 minutes.

Years later, I had become independent, educated, and professional. A helping professional in the “helping profession.” I observed a battered woman being helped. It was unsafe for her to return home, according to staff. She was exhausted and wanted her home, her clothes, her things. She desperately wanted a shower, she said repeatedly. She would have left on her own, but she didn’t have transportation and it was too far to walk. Staff happily helped her find a shower in the old area of the building. They provided soap, shampoo, a towel, and some borrowed clothes. She showered in the stall, a leftover locker room of sorts in a partially remodeled public restroom. People took turns guarding the door so she could have her privacy. I felt sadness for the woman, showering with horrible water pressure, in a shower that hadn’t been used for years, surrounded by old cold tile and strangers. All she wanted was her home, her things, her comfort. But she knew that if she returned to the home with her child, she’d be reported for putting her child at risk. I can imagine that she felt forced to strip and shower in this unwelcoming place.

I’m reminded of these images and thoughts as the Chris and Rihanna story splashes across the news nonstop. Personally, I no longer believe in secrets or lies. Domestic violence needs to be discussed. Yet I’m wondering if Rihanna is feeling hurt by strangers…pained and humiliated far beyond cuts, bruises, and blood. I wonder if it’s excruciating to hear other people talk about and around her… and at times, talking at, yes at, her with their advice. All of the superstars and the news reporters being the equivalent of folks at the break table giving their two cents or the helpers who are forcing her into a choice she maybe doesn’t want to make.

Many years after that day at the break table, I realized that the women were trying to be helpful. They were expressing their concern. And their thoughts that domestic violence is wrong. It is wrong. But the way they expressed it was more hurtful than anything I’ve ever experienced. And I sure hope Rihanna isn’t feeling that way now.

I wasn't going to add to any of the commentary but finally tonight, I'd heard so much that I wanted to scream. I wonder if she feels the same.

My wish is that Rihanna has someone who listens openly, honestly, and without agenda to what she needs and wants. That she’s not perceiving all the discussions, the debate, and spotlight as judgement. My hope is that she’s not being re-victimized.

Frozen water and writing

2009-02-01T19:26:00.004-05:00

It’s Superbowl Sunday and we spent the day at the resevoir. It was a gorgeous winter day today in Maryland and we spent the daylight hours outside. As we drove home, I told him, “I think this is a metaphor, or a parable, or whatever, for my writing.” For the rest of the drive, I quietly thought about it further. Yes, I think there’s a lesson about writing somewhere within the events of today.

Many years ago, I learned about fishing with my father. Fishing in a boat on a MidWestern lake, Salmon fishing in a Michigan river, and ice fishing in Indiana in the wintertime. Fishing for fun. I certainly wasn’t an expert. I just loved being outside and near water. Many times, then and now, I read or write while I’m “fishing”. In other words, I’ve got a worm in the water and I’m not watching closely enough to know when the little buggers have stripped the hook clean. Other times, I’m obsessed with fishing. I don’t want to stop until I’ve caught one… and just one more… and just one more. And before I know it, it’s too dark to see the trail to hike out easily. But I’m thrilled because I’ve caught fish.

Today, in Maryland, we went to the water and I took my fishing apparatus because I didn’t expect the resevoir to be frozen. It’s too large and there are too many channels that keep the water moving. Or so I thought. I was wrong. We hiked quite a way to the first spot. In the distance, there was a large area where the channels meet and the water wasn’t frozen. Near the shore, the water was frozen, but the ice wasn’t thick. I didn’t trust it to hold me weight and couldn’t cast far enough to reach the unfrozen section. We hiked to another spot. Beautiful views. Frozen solid. But to get from shore to ice, one would have to jump from the boulder onto the ice. There were deer tracks across the ice, so it was solid enough to hold their weight. But, unfortunately, I weigh more than a deer. And I have enough cognitive ability to recall that the water at those boulders is very deep. I didn’t want to risk falling in. So, we agreed to hike to one other spot. A spot where I know the shoreline consists of boulders but the channel is nearby. Maybe I could cast from the boulders into the unfrozen water nearby. Right. Wrong. Frozen solid.

But I had such a strong desire to fish. I had worms and bobbers, hooks and lines. But I didn’t have all of the things my dad and his fishing buddies used for ice fishing. I didn’t have the auger to drill the ice. I didn’t have long handled scoop thingie to dip the ice chunks out. I didn’t have the miniature pools or the little wax worms. But dang it, I wanted to fish.

I didn’t concern myself with whether or not I had the correct tools. (I am very careful to make sure the ice is plenty thick wherever I go, in case any of you were worried). I started to chip the ice with a knife. I made progress, but not enough. I kept at it and kept at it. I began to use sharp rocks. I pounded and pounded. The hole was filling with water that was seeping up from underneath, but I still wasn’t through. So I used a bigger rock to pound a smaller, wedge-shaped rock. And then voila, I was through the ice and fishing. Woohooo!

I realized, while I sat and watched my poles, that I hadn’t concerned myself with whether or not I was doing it “right”. I was just doing it. And I wasn’t worried about whether or not someone was watching me. There were footprints on the trail and I already know that there is a tree-stand just at the crest of the hill where I was. Someone could easily have been watching. But I just didn’t care. My man was watching, and laughing at my persistence, but I didn’t stop.

I had dove in, chipping away, bit by bit, and not worrying about whether or not it was perfect or whether or not anyone else cared. I knew the general direction I wanted to head, toward liquid water, I did it for me. And for me alone. And I didn’t stop until my goal was reached. It was glorious!

My muscles are sore and I’m exhausted. But I’m satisfied and it was a wonderful day.

Now, if I could just get myself to write that way!

How is it 2009 already?!

2009-01-12T19:13:00.006-05:00

Well, it's January already and things at work are hopping. I've been lurking, wandering the 'net, and reading more than writing. It seems like all I do is drive to work, work, and drive home. At least it is light out now during the commute and I can amuse myself with trying to identify the black and white ducks on the resevoir while trying to stay on the road!

We were very lucky to have my oldest son here during his 2+ week leave. We talked, stayed up too late watching movies, relaxed, ate, and just sat around looking at each other. It was fabulous. Then all too soon, he had to head back to base. I'm thankful and content that I had so much time with him but it's bittersweet to let him leave again. My youngest son is adjusting to being back in the states and setting up house with his wife. My best Christmas gift was having both of my boys on American soil.

That is a summary of my holidays. Christmas in a nutshell. I hadn't really planned on blogging tonight. Really, I'm here for another reason...

...I'm popping in long enough to encourage you to stop by Travis' site and consider sending something to his family. You can check out either his blog or a site that has been set up for him. (woohooo! I finally figured out how to add links in my blog. It was so simple that it was hard)

Anyway, I think this is important. After all, a house fire to start the new year? Sucks. Completely sucks. Especially with kids.

A similar thing happened to a very good friend of mine many years ago. It's something I'll never forget.

Travis and family, you are in my thoughts.

Adios November, hello December

2008-12-02T18:19:00.003-05:00

Well... NaNo is NoMo'. I didn't come anywhere close to the 50K mark, but it was a really good experience for me. My word count, after last blog, went up to 19,078. Woohoo! NaNo was definately a good exercise in doin-time-on-my-behind.

It was helpful to let go of "how do I do this the right way" and to embrace "just do it".

It was helpful to feel successful at getting a whole bunch of words, that do have some plot and good character development, out of me and into a black & white version.

I learned that if i got stuck, looking at random photos or reading random things can spark a thought.

I learned that if i got stuck, going back to pen and journal and sprawling out on the livingroom floor on my belly, helped to feel less "formal" (read: intimidated) and helped the juices get flowing.

Now I have to use these things that I've learned so that I can keep writing and get some of these characters out of my head and onto paper.

I also have to be a little bit careful to cut down on some of my procrastinative pursuits. Those things have included, but are not limited to; reading, watching tv, daydreaming about a marshy riverfront chunk of land that's for sale, looking at many different "teeny house plans", daydreaming about country living, and beginning some of the holiday decorating around the apartment. We were exctied to have found teeny bluebirds to go on our teeny charlie brown tree.

Bluebirds.... of happiness.... i wonder if they'd live in marshy areas if we built a bluebird house...if we were able to buy that land... can bathouses (ew bats!!! but bats are better than mosquitos) be placed anywhere near bluebird houses??? Maybe i ought to do an internet search......

NaNo-OhNo!

2008-11-25T19:54:00.002-05:00

EEeekkk! I'm at the same word count as my last post. No progress. None. Nada. Zilch. Zippo.

My brain is as dried up as an old creekbed during a dry November.

I don't feel hopeless. And I want to continue working on this WIP even after November/Nano ends. But for Petesake.... UGH! I could scream. My character is very clear in my brain but I can't think of anything else to write about. I sit and stare. I almost write something then think.... "boring"... "so what".... I think of possible plot ideas but then think "i don't know how to get there from here."

OOOooooOOOHHHH!!! Do you hear me screaming?

The more I try this the more respect I have for writers who have finished something... even if it is that "book" that sits on the shelf. You all amaze me.

Gonna go procrastinate with the tv for an hour then try again. Please send your positive writing thoughts, or writing fairy dust, or something my way. I am in desperate need of it.

PS.

2008-11-23T22:48:00.002-05:00

Oops. I forgot that I wanted to include this photo at the end of my previous post.

Brrrrrrr! Snow!

Quick Update

2008-11-23T21:39:00.002-05:00

My son arrived at 4:40 am Monday morning. His processing took hours after that. I was sleep deprived as were all of the other families there to pick up their loved ones. But sometime before noon on Monday morning, he was mine. With the exception of his needing to attend some meetings, we had free time. We visited until Thursday, when I drove him from Ft. Campbell to Northern Indiana so he could pick up his car.

From Northern Indiana, I drove home. Through off and on, lake effect, snow squalls. Ah, an excellent reminder of one reason I chose to move away from Northern Indiana. And just when I was trying to focus only on the slippery roads and poor visibility, I impulsively tried to take a photo while driving.

Why would I do such a thing, you ask?

I couldn’t help myself! Their vehicle said “YO” on the tire cover! It made me think of The Lottery by Patricia Wood. Oh, how I want to write a book that causes people some random emotional reaction long after they’ve read the book.

The picture probably didn’t turn out well enough so that you can see it but I'm going to post it anyway. You’ll have to trust me, it really did say “YO” on the tire cover.

So… I’m home since Friday night (I stayed the night with relatives on Thursday Night, to avoid the snowfall that happened that afternoon – just to hit more snow on the drive). I’m discombobulated and dreading trying to get back into the swing of things at work tomorrow. I’m very excited that my youngest is stateside and that I was able to spend so much time with him. And I’m pleased that I spent some of my waiting time effectively.

NaNo word count: 17,437. Way behind for the goal of 50k in November. But I’m very proud. This is the most I’ve ever been able to sit myself in a chair and focus on one MC. It’s not been easy. But I’m pleased with my work.

What does a mom do when she waits?

2008-11-16T20:49:00.016-05:00

This mom… drives through scattered, but heavy, rain showers in the mountains – from Maryland to the Kentucky/Tennessee state line. And ends up arriving a day early because she’s not completely sure what flight he’ll be arriving on.

This mom attends a Welcome Home ceremony at 1 a.m. just because. And cries her eyes out watching men greet infant children they haven’t met, children jumping up and down when a parent arrives, and grandparents smiling with a calm, “seen it all”, joyful look on their face.

On day two… this mom decides to spend the day sight-seeing and/or hiking. I start at Dunbar Cave in Tennessee. Loved the view. The cave was closed due to bat hibernation season. There was a sign just inside the locked gate of the cave, threatening that “violators will be prosecuted…” Do they really have to threaten people to stay out of a cave full of hibernating bats? The only question I wanted to ask a staff person was…. If the bats are hibernating, why were the trees at the welcome center FULL of bats last night? It was like the movie “The Birds” redone with bats. I was so proud of myself that I was able to walk from my car to the welcome center. Bravery? Nah. That’s how badly I needed the girls room! Wouldn’t my sons be proud?

I had planned on walking the trails at Dunbar, but there were just toooo many people. I am anti-social after all. So, I hopped in the car and headed toward Pennyrile Forest north of Hopkinsville, KY. The tourist center lady tried to get me to go to another park, the one with the huge lake and better trails. But I wanted off the beaten path. Stubbornly, I drove NorthWest.

I stopped by the Trail of Tears park on the way. Very nice little park. I enjoyed reading the plaques, looking at the statues, and sitting near the cemetery.

I may have to do a blog with photos of textures.

But I'll save that for another day.

Then I continued up the road to Pennyrile Forest. Off the beaten path was an understatement. The paved road narrowed to what I call a “two track” path. It was graveled, thank goodness, but it was still a two-track in my opinion. I got out and hiked…after remembering that it’s probably deer season here too… so I donned my hunter’s orange vest… and I walked. Because it’s so late autumn, the colors were drab. But the textures were amazing. I may have to do a blog with photos of textures.

So, at the end of the day… I headed back to the hotel. Keeping an eye on the sky and the gorgeous Kentucky sunset. The end of the day? Either an early end of the day… or not the end of a really loooooooong day. It all depends if I can manage to force myself to sleep between now and the 4:40 a.m. Welcome Home Ceremony for my youngest son.

Hoooah!

Waiting, again.

2008-11-13T22:54:00.003-05:00

I think I’m getting better at waiting. Maybe.

While I’m waiting this time, I’m doing slightly less pacing and nail-biting (literally) and I’m managing to write and read some. That’s progress!

For the next few days I’ll try to write more than I pace. Read more than I bite. And I will happily spend hours driving to the Welcome Home ceremony to greet the soldiers and my youngest son. Along the way, maybe I’ll sightsee and have opportunities to eavesdrop on random conversations for my journaling.

The picture is poor quality. But I love it, and the twenty-odd years worth of similar pictures. My youngest son always sleeps when he travels. So I’m imagining him on the plane…in that position… with his eyes closed. Just like he was the last time we traveled a distance together and I snapped a photo of him, grown, and asleep while he traveled.

I'm waiting. For a hug. I can't wait!!!

Veterans Day

2008-11-11T07:24:00.003-05:00

to all of our Vets...
...young and old
...current wars and past
...male and female

to all of you who have been...
....underappreciated
....underpaid
....overworked

to all of you who are....
...braver than i am
....more willing to follow directions than i am
....able to pick up and move across the country or across the world
....willing to hurry and wait
.... serving your country like no other

to all of our Veterans

Thank You!

Nano word count

2008-11-10T22:21:00.003-05:00

Progress: 12,291 and it's just after 10:00 pm.

Good news, Darla (my MC) was very talkative earlier in the evening.

Bad news, she seems to have talked herself out.

Good news, I've found out that if I don't feel like writing, and I lay on my belly with a pen and a notebook...on a fluffed up pillow, I can start writing a few paragraphs. THEN I move to the laptop (and a seated position) and I can take off.

Bad news, I just tried it and I can't seem to get going again tonight!

Good news, I went to Havre de Grace, MD yesterday just to look around and relax. It was a gorgeous day with beautiful views.

Bad news, I didn't think to take my camera. I only have a cellphone photo to share.

Listening, looking, and writing.

2008-11-09T00:12:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, Darla was very talkative. Today she was quiet. I went to the laptop and tried to type but couldn’t think of anything. Then I laid down on my belly, in the middle of the floor, with my journal and pen. Yeeha, that helped. I squeaked out a paragraph or two. But then immediately got stuck again.

There was something I wanted to write, but I just couldn’t quite think of it. Like when some word is on the tip of your tongue but you just can’t quite get your mind around it. You can’t even get enough of the word to tell your friends it’s synonyms. It was like that. I knew something was there but I wasn’t quite sure what.

So I wandered around the NaNo forum topics and loitered in the area about prompts. I skimmed. Feeling restless and wishing I could figure out what it was I wanted to write. I definitely wanted to write. I hadn’t written yet today.

In one of the forums, a few people said they visit Deviant Art or Flickr when they were stuck. What? Why? I didn’t know. I didn’t know what Deviant Art was. Well, that’s not true. I understand about deviant. And I know about art. But the two together, as in an internet site. I had no clue. But I thought Flickr was one of those on-line photo albums that folks use to upload (or is it download?) their photos.

Because I am a Nosey Nellie, I went to Deviant Art. Ah… photos and things. Just for fun I did a photo search and searched for a girl. Maybe I’d see Darla there. And sure enough, there was a photo of a little girl, looking out of the window. She was younger than Darla. But the emotions on her face.. the emotions that were on the tip of my tongue. Woohooo… I was able to write a few more paragraphs.

Suddenly, magically delicious, I’m to 10,213 words.

The only bad news is… I’m finding that I write more LATE at night. To the sounds of the Mister’s snoring! This is the time of day that I’m usually under the blanket, propped up on my fluffed up pillow, reading a good book next to the human buzz saw. Now, if I want to be a writer, this is when I’ll be “working”? Oh no. I don’t function well when I’m sleep deprived. How am I going to manage during the work week?

Photo Information: The Girl by *suerdas
http://suerdas.deviantart.com/art/the-girl-44353141

I'm Writing!!!! GO NaNo!!!!!

2008-11-07T18:41:00.003-05:00

On November 3rd, I found some long lost written blurbs about a little (fictional) girl named Darla. Oh… I was so happy to find those blurbs. Darla had stuck with me all this time and although I had no idea what her story was, there was one short scene that made her seem like a real character. A character I wanted to know more about and someone that maybe others would like to know too.

I had started my NaNo with a short start of a story about a woman. But I abandoned that since I found Darla on the 3rd. Just today I realized that the original woman could be Darla all grown up. Weird.

Anyway, I’m proud of my progress with NaNo. I’m at 8,436 words tonight and feel like writing some more. I know I’m behind in word count. I should be farther along to reach 50,000 word count by the end of the month, but the important thing is that I’m not worrying about the “should”. I’m writing. And I’m writing a decent amount each day. And Darla is a laughing, dancing, crying little girl in my minds’ eye.

My advice to me:
Keep writing those little blurbs. Keep filling journals and random notebooks with blurbs. Most of them are nothing. But one of them will stay on my mind.
Write… daily.
If I get stuck, like I did today, make the character write to me to describe themselves.
Write. Daily.

Congratulations

2008-11-06T09:58:00.003-05:00

I held my breath during this new adventure the same as I did when he learned to ride a bike. Tears welled up in my eyes when he grinned and yelled, “Watch this, mom!”

I’m still watching.

So…
Congratulations, Ry, on reaching your most recent goal. I couldn’t be more proud.

Elections

2008-11-04T21:36:00.004-05:00

During this election year, the more I studied, the angrier I became. Politicians and their verbal sleight-of-hand, at the least, and downright lies at the most. I felt obligated to research each topic of importance to me so that I’d have an educated opinion. I read transcripts, watched debates, reviewed past votes, and looked up more H.R. bills than I can count. Good grief, I could have used my time more enjoyably with my bobber in the water and a good book in my hands. But instead, I stewed about the elections.

Each candidate proposed something I fully supported. Each said something that rubbed every fiber of my being the wrong way. Oh… how to decide?

At several points, my decision was not to decide. Relief. Just don’t vote. It was too much.

Then about two weeks ago, I realized that I needed to vote. I thought about the time my sons have been in Iraq. Regardless of the reasons they went, I would never forget some of the pictures I saw from their time there. Their reports to me about what was going on mixed with the visual images from the news. I clearly remembered the joy on Iraqi’s faces while they waved their flag and raised their fingers, showing that they had voted.

I remembered these stories of Iraqi women, of various backgrounds, having had their entire world turned upside down. They were told that if they cooperate, or vote, their families would be harmed. Voting places were threatened and there were bombings. Even so, the news clips showed the women walking home, holding their inked fingers in the air with pride.

How could I not vote? How could I complain that the lines may be long or that I might be late for work? How in the world could I say that it’s too difficult or too stressful to vote?!

So…today, in honor of the women in Iraq who are far braver than I…I inked my finger.

Photo credit 1: "An elderly Iraqi woman shows an ink colored finger..."
(Karim Kadim , AP, 2005/10/15)
Photo credit 2: "An Iraqi woman holds up her hand, and shows a purple finger..."
(Andrew Parsons, AP, 2005/01/30)
"An Iraqi woman holds up her hand, and shows a purple finger, indicating she has just voted, as she leaves a polling station in the centre of Az Zubayr, southern Iraq, Sunday, Jan. 30, 2005. Iraqis turned out to vote Sunday in their country's first free election in a half-century, defying insurgents who launched deadly suicide bombings and mortar strikes at polling stations."

Have you ever?

2008-11-03T19:26:00.002-05:00

Have you ever?

Have you ever been to a place where the woods meets the water, watching fallen leaves float past while you felt a little bit sad that summer is over. And yet so excited to see the amazing colors of the trees.

Have you ever marked the end of a year by the end of summer rather than the end of the calendar year?

Have you ever wondered how in the world another year has completely flown by and how in the world you didn’t do ½ of the things you had planned on doing this year?

Have you ever been almost haunted by a scene or a short thing you’ve written long, long ago? Not sure where you put the stupid thing. Not willing to try to rewrite it because you don’t think you’ll get the same feeling. Then suddenly, when you are looking for something else, you find it!

Have you ever tried to do a cartwheel in your livingroom and realized you aren’t as young as you used to be?

Have you ever signed up for Nanowrimo in hopes that you’ll learn how to sit down and write EVERY SINGLE DAY, no matter what? Have your ever procrastinated on Nanowrimo day 2, and not written a thing?

Have you ever thought that it’s been so long ago since you made your submission that you must’ve only imagined that you made a submission?

Have you ever thought that what you are doing is the most blatant form of procrastination and time waste there EVER was, but you just can’t manage to stop yourself. Have you ever thought "I should be writing?"

I have.

Wonderful Things

2008-09-30T20:20:00.002-04:00

Usually by Friday, I’m exhausted. I’m always exhausted, but by Friday afternoons I’m extra exhausted. All I want is to sit on my sofa and do something mindless. This past Friday afternoon, my supervisor stopped by my office and we chit-chatted about weekend plans. She mentioned that it was Baltimore’s Book Festival weekend and I let out a string of obscenities.

Crap! I wanted to go to hear Iyanla Vanzant speak. I loved her on the show “Starting Over”. I’ve read one of her books (she has multiple published). And I have one of her motivational/meditation things on my Ipod. There’s something about her spirit and her kindness that I like.

My supervisor advised me to go. I looked at the pile of paperwork on my desk. And I thought about how exhausted I was. And how late it was already. And I whined. But I ended up leaving work early and we rushed to the Book Festival. We listened to a wonderful Reggae band for 20 minutes before heading to the art gallery auditorium.

And I heard her speak. Ah, bliss.

The four main points: control, fear, unforgiveness, and … well… frankly, I can’t remember the fourth thing because the first three things are my biggest problems… my worst bad habits. Oh gosh… she gave me so much to think about just with her motivational talk. In the back of my mind I kept thinking about her life as a writer. OH NO! I’m a horrible public speaker. If I become published, how much public speaking will I have to do? Can I send in the equivalent of a pinch-hitter for all of my speaking engagements when I’m published? Oh my gosh….oops…there’s that fear problem again!

So…. I overcame laziness, put away the fear, and rushed off to hear a writer speak. And it was wonderful!

Other recent wonderful things:
· Three weeks of a heavenly visit with my oldest son while he was on leave.
· I’ve started reading a series of books that my son recommended. He(previously a total non-reader) read 3 ½ out of the 4 Stephenie Meyer series while he was here and loved them so much that he demanded that I read them. He texts me nightly now and asks me what page I’m on. How fun is that? Once in awhile he’ll tell me “go read”. Role Reversal! (Thank you Stephenie for writing books that he enjoyed so thoroughly!)
· My youngest son has been told they’ll return from Iraq significantly early. Happy Thanksgiving to me!!! (cross your fingers for me that this solid rumor really happens!)
· I’m writing a little more regularly. Nothing much on the “novel” but different scenes and different things. I think I’m experimenting with things I’ve been learning lately. I feel like my writing is improving.
· I’m so tired tonight that I can’t really focus, but I’ve still blogged, read, and wrote. Whew! Wonderful!