So, it's only 3+ months since my last blog. Not bad for a slacker. Work and school have been CRAZY!!! Let me recap. No, I will sum up. I got the teaching gig, so rather than being a pretend teacher, I will be real!!! Just like the Velveteen Rabbit!!! I am so stoked. My last class required 34 assignments completed in 6 weeks. Had I no life, this would have been no problem. But alas, the kiddos had all sorts going on this summer. And I had to do some work at the new job as well. I've not written too much lately, though I did have fun critting some of my friends' work. Frankly, this makes me feel connected to the writer's world even when I'm not the one crafting.
Even though I haven't written a whole lot lately, I did do some submissions to agents on my previous works. So far, I've received two form rejections. C'est la vie. I must finish this book, get it polished and ready for its moment in the sun. How I will fit all this in with schoolwork and work-work, I don't know. What I do know is that November 20th is the last day of class. No more projects, no more writing insane blogs about my classmates. It will be great!!! Only 15 weeks and 5 days left to go.
How many rejections would it take to wallpaper your bathroom? I'll be nice; you can choose the smallest bathroom in the house.
02 August 2008
23 April 2008
Walking through the world with my pants unzipped ...
Yep, folks, that's me. I'm beautifully coiffed (if I do say so myself) and dressed for success. Pink blouse, chocolate slacks that lengthen my legs and make me look like your typical professional female. I walked through the school, stopping to talk to teachers and smile at students. Despite the fact I didn't want to get out of bed, the sun burst through my windows, BBC world news played in the background and my body felt compelled to get dressed. I'm glad someone did, looking in hindsight, it would have been a little bad for me to show up to work this morning in yoga pants a sweatshirt and a busted hair-do. Once I got dressed, I felt ready to take on the world. Maybe it's the pink. Who knows?
So back to walking through the halls. I made my way from one wing of the school to the other. (My room's been commandeered for mandatory state testing.) I climbed two flights of stairs to reach the teacher's lounge, made some kool-aid to keep me happy, brushed off a dusty apple from the abyss I call a travel bag and proceeded to work. I graded a bunch of papers, managed to smile at the progress (not the grades -- prepping my speech for the class tomorrow) and glanced down. My pants were unzipped! This wouldn't be bad if I were wearing underwear that matched my trousers. That would have been too easy. Oh, no. I am wearing my Vickie's Secrets bright coral undies -- these things match neither my flesh nor my slacks. How many people now know me more intimately than I wanted them to?
This got me thinking about the writer's life. We writers constantly walk the world with not only our pants unzipped, but with our bare bums hanging out for everyone to criticize. Oh, look at that lump. Thigh master, anyone? People have no qualms about deriding someone's work because, well, because it's there. And you know what? I am totally cool with that. If I'm out there, or rather my work is, and someone wants to criticize they are welcome to do so. Bring it on!!! I'm sure I'm not the only contrary person who buys books on purpose because of arising controversy. In fact, that is why I initially read the Harry Potter books. And I'm sure she cried all the way to the bank -- NOT. Controversy breeds readership, breeds discussion and dare I say it, thinking!
And if that means I'm going to walk the ends of the earth totally unzipped, then I hope the world is ready for me. Write on, writers. Write on!
So back to walking through the halls. I made my way from one wing of the school to the other. (My room's been commandeered for mandatory state testing.) I climbed two flights of stairs to reach the teacher's lounge, made some kool-aid to keep me happy, brushed off a dusty apple from the abyss I call a travel bag and proceeded to work. I graded a bunch of papers, managed to smile at the progress (not the grades -- prepping my speech for the class tomorrow) and glanced down. My pants were unzipped! This wouldn't be bad if I were wearing underwear that matched my trousers. That would have been too easy. Oh, no. I am wearing my Vickie's Secrets bright coral undies -- these things match neither my flesh nor my slacks. How many people now know me more intimately than I wanted them to?
This got me thinking about the writer's life. We writers constantly walk the world with not only our pants unzipped, but with our bare bums hanging out for everyone to criticize. Oh, look at that lump. Thigh master, anyone? People have no qualms about deriding someone's work because, well, because it's there. And you know what? I am totally cool with that. If I'm out there, or rather my work is, and someone wants to criticize they are welcome to do so. Bring it on!!! I'm sure I'm not the only contrary person who buys books on purpose because of arising controversy. In fact, that is why I initially read the Harry Potter books. And I'm sure she cried all the way to the bank -- NOT. Controversy breeds readership, breeds discussion and dare I say it, thinking!
And if that means I'm going to walk the ends of the earth totally unzipped, then I hope the world is ready for me. Write on, writers. Write on!
10 April 2008
In the Words of Our Lord ...
It is finished. Never were more poignant words spoken! Tonigh marks the last of one of the most tortuous classes I've taken. And to think! I paid for it!
So what's up? I've been working and writing. Big surprise, right? I've also reattached my cajones and entered a few writing contests. We'll see how that goes. Just once, I'd love to final and see my name in lights -- dim though they may be. Something Kay said to me tonight struck home. I don't want to be famous, just rich. This gal wants both! While I dread the thought of not being able to buy toilet paper unmolestes, I'd love people to stop me -- WHEREVER -- and say they'd read my book and for one moment been able to forget whatever trauma/drama life's thrown their way. How awesome would that be? To be the author of relief, the one people turn to when they want to curl up with something comfortable and consistent. Me and my aspirations!
I know the statistics. No, I won't share them for those of you who just felt your rear iris pucker. I know not all of us enjoy math. The odds are I will be unsuccessful. Not just unsuccessful, but an abysmal failure. Yet, I can't stop. The words pour into my head. I hear conversations and think of how I can simmer the themes into lines for my characters. The bottom line is that all of us want to be remembered, immortalized somehow. I am egotistical enough that I am not only willing to admit this fact to myself, but shout it aloud in the streets. Hell, if I'm not my own biggest fan, who else will be? That's why we procreate, and one of the many reasons I want to be in the classroom.
I don't want to fall into the abyss, forgotten. What are you doing to ensure your legacy? Who's life are you touching? Think about it! Each of us has the potential to impact the lives of 10, 000 people. Ten thousand! That's a lot of people, a lot of lives. By now, you're probably wondering how I came by this number. Warning, there was some math involved, but no brains were injured in the computation.
Look at it from a 6-degrees of separation perspective. I won't put down numbers, but if you can stretch your brain to think about the interconnectivity inherent in relationships, you'll see that my theory is neither inflated nor sheer rubbish. In fact, I may have underestimated the figures. So, recognize what you do matters. None of us chooses our race, nationality, sex or orientation (debate me later, it's my turn to speak now). What we can choose is our attitude. I can be hateful, and when I am (notice I didn't say if), it is my choice. That is how I've determined I will make my mark on the world. How I will touch thousands of lives.
Knowledge is power, folks. What will you do with it?
So what's up? I've been working and writing. Big surprise, right? I've also reattached my cajones and entered a few writing contests. We'll see how that goes. Just once, I'd love to final and see my name in lights -- dim though they may be. Something Kay said to me tonight struck home. I don't want to be famous, just rich. This gal wants both! While I dread the thought of not being able to buy toilet paper unmolestes, I'd love people to stop me -- WHEREVER -- and say they'd read my book and for one moment been able to forget whatever trauma/drama life's thrown their way. How awesome would that be? To be the author of relief, the one people turn to when they want to curl up with something comfortable and consistent. Me and my aspirations!
I know the statistics. No, I won't share them for those of you who just felt your rear iris pucker. I know not all of us enjoy math. The odds are I will be unsuccessful. Not just unsuccessful, but an abysmal failure. Yet, I can't stop. The words pour into my head. I hear conversations and think of how I can simmer the themes into lines for my characters. The bottom line is that all of us want to be remembered, immortalized somehow. I am egotistical enough that I am not only willing to admit this fact to myself, but shout it aloud in the streets. Hell, if I'm not my own biggest fan, who else will be? That's why we procreate, and one of the many reasons I want to be in the classroom.
I don't want to fall into the abyss, forgotten. What are you doing to ensure your legacy? Who's life are you touching? Think about it! Each of us has the potential to impact the lives of 10, 000 people. Ten thousand! That's a lot of people, a lot of lives. By now, you're probably wondering how I came by this number. Warning, there was some math involved, but no brains were injured in the computation.
Look at it from a 6-degrees of separation perspective. I won't put down numbers, but if you can stretch your brain to think about the interconnectivity inherent in relationships, you'll see that my theory is neither inflated nor sheer rubbish. In fact, I may have underestimated the figures. So, recognize what you do matters. None of us chooses our race, nationality, sex or orientation (debate me later, it's my turn to speak now). What we can choose is our attitude. I can be hateful, and when I am (notice I didn't say if), it is my choice. That is how I've determined I will make my mark on the world. How I will touch thousands of lives.
Knowledge is power, folks. What will you do with it?
02 December 2007
Where's she been?
I talked to a good buddy the other day who asked what was up with my blog. Guess it's time for confessions: I've been a little unfaithful. Okay, how can one be a little unfaithful? That's one of those all or nothing things. I've been spending emotional time with my other blog -- saying all the things that I can't shoehorn into this one.
My goal was to keep this blog more writerly and less random than the heading implies. Writing, in general, is my way of venting, re-hashing and getting my thoughts in line with my present reality. My life has become a Lifetime Movie of the Week, and while I've got lots of writing done that's not what needed mulling over. To catch you up, my [blind] mother has moved in, my brother-in-law is staying with us for a bit, and my kids still haven't figured out how to hit the porcelain bowl that's filled with water. Forget movie of the week. More like a Porto-potty.
Let's move to the writing because that's much less depressing than real life. I'm finally feeling as though I know where the story is going (thanks, Kay!). I know the characters and can see them -- in some cases, smell them. So much is swirling through my head, I'm afraid my fingers won't be able to keep up with my thoughts. Unfortunately, I've put off some of my schoolwork and have to play my favorite game, catch up.
Still no word from the agent who has my full, or the editor to whom I sent pages. Gosh, almost forgot about that. Today, I will write the critique I promised, read another contest entry and go back to the hospital to have my wound cared for. Beyond that, I will try to keep the threads of my sanity from unraveling.
My goal was to keep this blog more writerly and less random than the heading implies. Writing, in general, is my way of venting, re-hashing and getting my thoughts in line with my present reality. My life has become a Lifetime Movie of the Week, and while I've got lots of writing done that's not what needed mulling over. To catch you up, my [blind] mother has moved in, my brother-in-law is staying with us for a bit, and my kids still haven't figured out how to hit the porcelain bowl that's filled with water. Forget movie of the week. More like a Porto-potty.
Let's move to the writing because that's much less depressing than real life. I'm finally feeling as though I know where the story is going (thanks, Kay!). I know the characters and can see them -- in some cases, smell them. So much is swirling through my head, I'm afraid my fingers won't be able to keep up with my thoughts. Unfortunately, I've put off some of my schoolwork and have to play my favorite game, catch up.
Still no word from the agent who has my full, or the editor to whom I sent pages. Gosh, almost forgot about that. Today, I will write the critique I promised, read another contest entry and go back to the hospital to have my wound cared for. Beyond that, I will try to keep the threads of my sanity from unraveling.
14 November 2007
What have I been up to?
I've been MIA for a long while, so I figured I owed you a rundown. Since my last post, it's been more of the same: school, work, writing and hanging out with friends. Somewhere in there, I made time to refinish my table (again). Now, I'm ankle deep in contest judging. The Linda Howard Contest is in full swing and I have been reading and re-reading entries. This contest is awesome because they actually want the judges to offer input rather than simply assigning a score and moving to the next piece. I won't say which category I'm judging, but I will say it is one I'm keenly interested in.
Getting in on this side of contests is important to me because I not only get to see what fellow writers are up to, but I gain perspective on my own work. Before I write a comment, I put myself in the writer's shoes. How would I receive a comment posed in such a manner? Am I trying to play God? Is my response related to jealousy? Judge doesn't mean unchecked power; it means responsibility. Probably a naive sentiment, but true for me nonetheless. Seeing these entries has made me want to give my newer works a go through the contest circuit. Maybe this year I have a chance.
Getting in on this side of contests is important to me because I not only get to see what fellow writers are up to, but I gain perspective on my own work. Before I write a comment, I put myself in the writer's shoes. How would I receive a comment posed in such a manner? Am I trying to play God? Is my response related to jealousy? Judge doesn't mean unchecked power; it means responsibility. Probably a naive sentiment, but true for me nonetheless. Seeing these entries has made me want to give my newer works a go through the contest circuit. Maybe this year I have a chance.
08 November 2007
Happy birthday, brother
Today is my little brother's birthday. I don't know where he is, and the sad part is I don't want to know. Somewhere along the road he chose a path I can't condone. One I hope he comes out of. Until that time, I will love him from afar and wish him all the best. And I pray that today he knew somehow that he was on my mind. That he wasn't forgotten and isn't unloved. I hope that he managed to eek out some birthday cheer from whatever hell he found himself in. And I pray that this is his best year ever. Makarisomos, T.
28 October 2007
A peek inside the mind of man
Here's my disclaimer before I even take a ride down this street: This blog relates to the guys I know, so the behaviors/actions/whatever I describe may not be typical.
Last night, I got to spend time with some great folks. Granted, it was a bit heavy with guys at first, but I was there with my girl so it was all good. How do I know these people, you may ask. Well, mostly through the former job and school. These guys are so awesome. For one, they kept an immaculate apartment. You see what I mean about being atypical? Once we got around to conversing, I learned things I didn't expect about the other sex. Men feel more than I gave them credit for. They want to be in committed relationships and are in favor of the old stick 'n move as much they enjoy root canals. Okay, so sometimes stick 'n move works but they really do want to have one special person who will care for them forever. They idolize their moms, and call them repeatedly just because they love them. And you know what? They know they've been dumb at times (with their parental units) and they actually admit it to their parents. Even though their friendships differ from ours, they are dead loyal and care for each other as much as women care for their friends. And have I mentioned they like the ladies with intellect? Stupid and hot will only take a girl so far with these fellas.
Who'd have thunk it? Now, as I approach my writing, I have to consider these things. It would be more than unfair for me to fill my stories with callous jerks. Not that those don't exist. I've met more of them than I care to recall. My buds give me hope that happily-ever-after isn't a myth. I know these guys will make fantastic spouses one day, and I can't wait to see them find bliss with people who are equally fantastic.
Last night, I got to spend time with some great folks. Granted, it was a bit heavy with guys at first, but I was there with my girl so it was all good. How do I know these people, you may ask. Well, mostly through the former job and school. These guys are so awesome. For one, they kept an immaculate apartment. You see what I mean about being atypical? Once we got around to conversing, I learned things I didn't expect about the other sex. Men feel more than I gave them credit for. They want to be in committed relationships and are in favor of the old stick 'n move as much they enjoy root canals. Okay, so sometimes stick 'n move works but they really do want to have one special person who will care for them forever. They idolize their moms, and call them repeatedly just because they love them. And you know what? They know they've been dumb at times (with their parental units) and they actually admit it to their parents. Even though their friendships differ from ours, they are dead loyal and care for each other as much as women care for their friends. And have I mentioned they like the ladies with intellect? Stupid and hot will only take a girl so far with these fellas.
Who'd have thunk it? Now, as I approach my writing, I have to consider these things. It would be more than unfair for me to fill my stories with callous jerks. Not that those don't exist. I've met more of them than I care to recall. My buds give me hope that happily-ever-after isn't a myth. I know these guys will make fantastic spouses one day, and I can't wait to see them find bliss with people who are equally fantastic.
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