October: Breast Cancer Awareness month

It’s October. Breast Cancer Awareness month, in case you didn’t hear. I’m feeling guilty because I usually start the month out with a blog about it, Facebook reminders, etc. This month is half-gone and I’ve done nothing. I usually do the walk, but this year, this crazy, busy year has just rushed along without me doing so many things I wanted to do. All I can say is: I did my writing. The garden, the little projects, the fun kind of took a back seat to some other priorities.

The big one being helping my son move his music store, MusicVillage. I thought moving a home a daunting task, but moving a business and all that includes is overwhelming, but it’s moved and better than ever.

Still, I want to do what I can for Breast Cancer Awareness month. I wanted to do the walk this year, but couldn’t, but even the smallest effort combined makes the biggest difference.

So, for the warriors, survivors, supporters, caregivers, loved ones and the departed…for my sixth grade teacher, Maude, for my mother and mother-in-law, for Marilyn and Mary, my daughter-in-law’s mothers in the fight, for Tami, my daughter-in-law’s mother, who I hope never is, for my sister, my sister-in-laws, my daughter-in-laws, my granddaughters, for my dear friends, writing and non I want to share a poem I wrote. Someone said it was a poem that I needed to cast out in the world. I thought about trying to get it published, but instead, I’m going to share it here and donate what I might have received from publishing it here

If it touches you, if you want to share this or even feel inspired to donate, I'd be honored and who knows it might just help.

SONGBIRDS



The sweet sparrow song echoes through
steeps and slashes of uncharted land
where outbound trails are littered with
collateral damage. Women interrupted—
the scarred, the wounded, the fallen,
 sisters, daughters, friends and mothers,
 her mother.





She was not armed. She was not trained.
She never meant to wade into that fray,
hike precarious mountain ridges
of that backcountry, nor
foot-slog those daunting vistas,
switchbacks and long gentle sloops.
Enlisted into guerrilla warfare






she joined loosely formed columns
armored with nothing more than
flamingo-colored chemo caps,
hauberks and caregivers surcoats. And
marched the streets, pink standard held high,
singing the only battle cry she knew:
Fight like a girl.



Songbirds sing after the battle.
Only survivors know that,
bless her heart.

 

Keeping the Fire

Do you remember when you rushed eagerly to your computer? Had ideas for your book bursting from your fingers? I do. And sometimes, it still happens. Not as often as I wish. Sometimes, I feel what is the point. Do you? Hopeful, I am not alone.

So many possibilities, then. But the hill to publication is steeper. ‘They say’ it’s wisest to write with finishing your novel, short story, poem the goal, and that does make sense, but I don’t think any of us writers can squelch that desire (need) completely to be published.(The somebody likes me, they really, really like me thing.) It hangs around in the back of our minds like a noisy crow. (Or is that just me?)

Keeping our passion is vital, but keeping that particular fire burning bright can be as much of a challenge as the writing. We all know those writers who tossed sand on that fire and turned to another. Passion comes from the heart and sometimes, that heart needs something else or it can't stand up to failing.

We, also, know writers who just keep trying. Sometimes with amazing success. Those are the ones you hear about, but there are those others. The ones that keep trying and never make it. I wonder about them. Don’t you? What do they end up doing with all their work? Where does it eventually end up? I know, every writer knows how much work, heart and tears must have gone into their writing. It makes me sad, but it makes me proud too.

Writers are their own leaders, cheerleaders, bosses. They work alone, mostly. They get inspiration from other writers. Writers they read or meet, writers they read interviews about. A writer is responsible for their own best advice, their own drive often gleaning it anywhere they can find it, a lot like they ‘find’ their stories.

Strangely, I’ve been finding great advice in the business section of my local paper. As my son’s music business struggles in this economy, I’ve taken notice of not just the publication business but also the struggles of all business and the economy.

Here are some strategies that seem to me applicable that I have gleaned:

·       Acknowledge your desire or goal either by writing it down or talking about it. In doing this, you are embracing the challenge.

·       Write down the why. It’s easy to forget that ‘real’ reason. Make a list for why you want to write. Include making money, being published.  Then put that list in order of importance to you. Not what will show your friends, neighbors, husband… (Although you really ought to acknowledge that on your list in order of importance. You should know where you stand.) Hey, and list what kind of impact you want your book, poems or short stories to make on your readers.

·       Go back to the why often. To remind yourself. You will forget as you are caught up in the doing.That's why writing it down is so important. Set goals. Clear, definite goals that reflect where you are in the process. Visit this strategy often.

·       Do something that makes you a little uncomfortable. We get bored; the monotony of the same, same each day can cloud the finish line. Do something that scares you a little or shakes you up. Smile while you're doing it.

·       Reach beyond yourself. Help someone that is struggling with their own writing goals. Actually, helping someone with any goal, not even connected with writing brings surprising results for you, but do, without yourself in mind. It’s amazing the joy, the renewed energy that seeps into your heart. Or think about a cause you love and do something for it. (I hope someone will read this and be helped just a little. Just one someone.)

·       Take a class. In writing or in some other thing you love. Get your brain and 'juices' working For me, maybe, a puppy, soon?

What I know for sure is that no matter where you stand right now—on a hilltop, in a gutter, at a crossroads, in a rut—you need to give yourself the best you have to offer in this moment. That is it. Rather than depleting yourself with judgments about what you haven’t done, who you could have become, why you haven’t moved faster, or what you should have changed, redirect that energy toward the next big push—The one that takes you from enough to better. The one that takes you from adequate to extraordinary. The one that helps you rise up from a low moment and reach for your personal best. —Oprah

Back from a Beyond

I've been gone...vacation...mountains, wild places and things...and...grief.
I'm back, but...
No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.-C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed.




L.E. next to Current Creek reservoir in June.

Every Day

The newspaper had a special section yesterday about the new economy, particularly about jobs, getting them, keeping them, creating them. I almost didn’t read it. It didn’t seem particularly valid for my situation, other than as help for my sons and when did they ever listen to me? After all, I’ve never had a ‘real’ job. I’m ‘retired.’ And I seek to be published, not hired. (Surprisingly similar things, but like I said, when have they ever listened to me? I could be sexist and say, hey, they’re men, or…and moms of boys will understand, say, hey, they’re boys, or I could say, hey, I’m just mom.)

They’re right, I worked at a pet shop before I was married and cleaned a theater for several months when my husband was laid off one winter. And gosh, a pet shop is mostly fun, isn’t it? Well, yes and no. Loved interacting with the animals. I was good at it. But lessons are learned: Puppies, kitties, and various other pets poop. A lot. And back then, we had puppies, kitties, and various other pets as the product we sold, and in the pet shop world then, product died. It was a hard fact for someone like me to learn and cope with.

Hey, for my career class, my chosen careers where Veterinarian or novel writer. I was told women are not accepted at Veterinarian Colleges and you can’t make a living writing books unless you’re a journalist. Yes, it was the dark ages and yes, the thing about novel writing is still true unless you’re Nora Roberts or Steven King or really, really lucky.  

The theater was just a big house where everyone was partying, and what on earth are people doing in a public theater anyway? You would not believe what I found hanging around the seating area. Seriously, folks?

I digress. I found three surprisingly valid articles for me, a novel writer. Will any of it guarantee I’ll be published? No more than it guarantees anyone else will get a job, but it’s a good thing to pack in your backpack and carry with you no matter which you want.

 

From one article was about improving yourself and your skills continuously. My take away for every day.

·       Learn something new for your writing.

·       Devote at least 15 minutes every day learning or improving a skill you use in your writing.

·       Learn a new word, its meaning and use.

·       Read a writer’s magazine, at least one article.

From another:

·       Find and nurture support. This can be a challenge if you don’t run into other writers in your day to day or you can’t attend meetings or such. I’m in that situations. Thank goodness for the internet. There are friendly writers and many, many support groups. That leads to the challenge of how you spend your time on the internet. Be strong.

·       Plan your writing day. Have goals, whether in time, words, whatever. Meet them, exceed them, raise them.

·       Broaden your skills and update them.

·       Work on your bio. Read it and try to add to it.

·       Attend workshops, seminars; buy DVD’s, whatever to help your writing skills.

Third article:

·       Reading, therefore writing is in a flux right now. Keep up.(Are you sensing a theme or repeated point here?)

·       Change with the times while holding to the core of good writing.

·       Remember, things go on whether the economy slows or not. People will read. They’ll want fresh, great reads no matter how it’s delivered. So the focus has to be on the writing.

·       No job, no business is easy. Problems will come and those that stay around adapt and embrace change

·       Smile. Enjoy what you’re doing. Fall in love with it. Every day.

L.E.

As my vet said so eloquently, “This sucks.”

A sudden fast growing tumor and we had to make the worse decision pet owners ever have to make.

The place next to me as I write this is empty. Last night empty of comforting snores. I’m without a companion, the shadow at my heels.

I think I’m okay. I’m not sure.

L.E wasn’t perfect.

She had bad knees, bad hips, bad shoulders, was stubborn to a fault, hypersensitive to all forms of stimulus, some would say not the smartest pup in the litter. She was actually too smart for her own good, but we rubbed together and she was always there for me. When I was alone as my husband traveled for work, when I was fighting illness, when I was struggling with my writing, as I gardened. She replaced an irreplaceable dog and stepped up to the plate.

Strange, that when we’ve told most of our loved ones the first question has been: “Are you getting another dog? or “When are you getting another dog?

I don’t believe in not getting attached, in protecting my heart. No, I believe in casting my heart clear over the barn, so I do, every time, and I’m pretty sure, I’ll keep doing so. That’s all right, too, because:

 “It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them.

And every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart.

If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be dog,

and I will become as generous and loving as they are.”

- Anonymous

By now, I should be mostly dog, but there is enough human heart that I’m still not as generous or loving as I should be, so another dog is likely in my future, but I need time.

For L.E. A Good Dog (The highest compliment in her eyes.)

“He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; my other ears that hear above the winds. His is the part of me that can reach out into the sea. He has told  me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being; by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.) When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive. When I am angry, he clowns to make me smile. When I am happy, he is joy unbounded. When I am a fool, he ignores it. When I succeed, he brags. Without him, I am only another man. With him, I am all-powerful. He is loyalty itself. He has taught me the meaning of devotion. With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace. He has brought me understanding where I was ignorant. His head on my knee can heal my human hurts. His presence by my side is protection against my fears of dark and unknown things. He has promised to wait for me…whenever…wherever – in case I need him. And I expect I will – as I always have. His is just my dog.” Gene Hill

Summer School

Been working like crazy on rewrites/edits for my new/old book, Heart’s High, this summer and it’s been going great. So much better than Ella and the Tie-down Man. The path is clearer, the problems easier to fix and I think the reason is some great help in the way of a learning.

I’m a firm believer of continued learning. I take classes as I go along the writer’s journey and this summer I’ve stumbled on some great help for my writing. Suggestions by other writers on their blogs, in articles, etc. have really given me some valuable resources and learning experiences. I’d say my writing has much improved by just thirty minutes a day reading. A great substitute for workshops or writer’s retreat when those options aren’t possible.

Never say I can’t. Say, I’ll have to do it a little different.

Outlining Your Novel, by K.M. Weiland: Regardless whether you are a pantster or a planner, this is a great book for improving your book’s plot. No do it this way or die. Just good sound advice, no matter how you write best. Her blog is a lot of help, too: Wordplay: Helping Writers Become Authors at www.kmweiland.com

Rivet Your Readers With Deep Point of View, by Jill Elizabeth Nelson: This is a tiny book. Just 61 pages, but packed with the best explanation and illustration of deep point of view, at least for me. For the first time I got it and Nelson gave lists of words to do searches with to help check on whether I stay in deep point of view, too. I like that because as I learn I forget sometimes. Even as I learn to use deep point of view better, it helps to check. We all get sloppy/lazy/forgetful once in a while.

Pair this with The Emotion Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Expression, by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi: This is great, especially as a way to show emotions. So much more effective than to tell.  So much of our communication is non-verbal or subtext.  There are physical signs, mental responses and internal sensations. What I found in looking these emotions up in this book, whether you use the authors’ suggestions or use them for a jumping off place, is it seemed to help me keep in one character’s point of view. No  matter who’s POV I was in there was either something the character was seeing, feeling or sensing. Together with deeper point of view, it seemed to make my scenes more alive.  And you must take a look at their website: http://thebookshelfmuse.blogspot.com

You have to keep punching, because you’ve always got that puncher’s chance. –Otis Chandler, publisher, Los Angeles Times

Choosing to Write

I’ve had my head, heart and fingers in the writing all spring and summer. Total focus. Each day I see progress both with the work I’m editing and learning the craft. I love this. When everything is working with my writing, but when that is happening, I can dang near bet that the rest of my life is a gone-wrong flash-mob. (You know the one—where no one gets the timing right and everyone gets the steps wrong)

I’ve been writing all my life and as I tell my grandkids, I’m older than Spiderman, but still I have so much to learn. That just amazes me. Just when I think I have it, I learn something new that changes everything. Still, isn’t that what keeps me excited? Yes.

 Previous years, my garden pretty much rules my summers. I never could quite help it. I’d let the gardening win out too many times when there was a time crunch. (I regret that, fought it even, but winters are so long and I love my fingers in dirt.) Slowly, over many years and for many reasons, I’m learning to have it all. Well, not really, we really can’t have it all, all at once.

Anyway, as I’ve mentioned before, I’ve redesigned, eliminated and consolidated every bed, but this year, this summer I’m finally pleased with the yard as a whole. In all the years we’ve lived her, it looks better than ever. I like it and it doesn’t take a lot of time to keep it looking nice.

Well, of course, something has to be awry. My honey locust. It suffered damage in a terrible windstorm in January and we ended up cutting it back to what was, basically, a stump. It branched out and turned into a decent looking tree. A little Dr. Seuss, but I like it. It had a lot of potential, but this summer’s hot winds have just plagued us. The tender new branch shoots just couldn’t hold up and they’ve have broken, bent down and in general, frustrated me.

There’s just not enough time for us to ever see a new tree to the size that it will shade our yard. The locust was just to the size it did and so perfect. All last summer I was commenting on what a perfect tree it had turned out to be for shade and looks and…I’m not going to start over and I’m not going to take it out. It will be what it is. It won’t be perfect. It will be like me. Scarred, life-worn, but stronger for it. (I hope).   

A favorite spot:

I’ve let my garden take on a more natural theme, simpler, easy-keeping plants, and I’ve relaxed my standards. (Some things the experts tell you to do don’t really need doing.) And I’ve been rewarded.

I love the new look around the place as do the bees and butterflies. I’m enjoying the garden, not just working the garden. Better yet, I haven’t once made the agonizing decision to get the gardening done instead of writing because the yard was screaming neglect. I haven’t wrestled with that choice once. I just plop myself down at the computer and write with guilt. At least not because the yard hasn’t been groomed.

As a writing mother, primary care-giver, wife, chief cook and bottle-washer, I’ve always had to agonize over priorities. Struggled with the guilt when I choose writing. Guilt is just a truth of it, I think, and for women, more so. There is no escaping and I’m a dang slow learner. Putting my writing first has always been a struggle, much like grammar for me. Do you put the comma here or there? Do I garden, clean the house, do the wash, and check on mom, do a five-minute meal, thirty-minute meal or do I go all out? (Thirty minute meals are my friend. I gather good, quick and easy recipes like emergency funds. Squirreling them away for those days, I cannot pull myself away from the computer.)

I’ve learned you put the comma wherever and move forward. You keep writing. You write now while the fingers are moving over the keyboard and worry about dinner and commas later. But…you plan; hedge your bets as much as you can. (I take advantage of every time savor that makes sense and I can afford. Crockpots are crucial.)

And the hardest thing to remember: Your writing is never as important to anyone else as it is to you. No one else will hurt, cry or shrivel away if you don’t write. You have to care about it enough to face down everyone and everything else. Not all the time, but most of the time.  (You’ll have to remind everyone you explained your writing schedule to, not once in a while, but all the time. It is so hard for anyone to understand what you are really doing in that room alone for hours and hours. No one will understand the need for uninterrupted time, least of all those that love you. They try, they really do, but I’ve not found anyone who doesn’t write or make music or art that can understand that writing isn’t typing: that the words don’t just run down your arm to the keyboard onto the screen as if you’re speaking into a recorder. The process is hard to understand because you can’t really see it being done.)

The world goes on whether I write or don’t, the same as for anything else I choose to do. I have to choose to write every time.

You will find a great many of the truths we cling to rely greatly on our own point of view. Obi Wan Kenobi