Once again..

As I waited once again to sit there in the funeral home, I knew suffocating stillness.  The same as every funeral since my grandmother died in 2008, I felt the same sadness.  There is a missing piece, a place in my heart that hurts for my grandpa.  He had a stroke my first week of college, way back in 1988.  Then he was in a wheel chair until he died in 2000.  I had 12 years to say goodbye to him.  But that was not enough time. When grandma died 4 years ago, I had to say goodbye to him all over as I said goodbye to her.  It was when everything had to change.  Before that we still went to Grandpa and Grandma's house.  Their stuff was still on the walls and the shelves.  There has been so many funerals in the past 4 years.  My family sits there in that same room in those same chairs.  Each piece of our family hurts.  Some of it is the same pain some of it is new.  As I watch the silent tears fall from the eyes of those I love I feel not only my pain but theirs.  We smile and hold each other.  We talk of happy memories.  We tell stories.  We look at pictures.  And when we leave we hope for times not like these..  We hope for weddings and baby showers.  We hope for picnics in the park.  And most of all we hope not to see each other once again in this place of tears.

Pretending, Preparing & Practicing

This week has been filled with “P” words for me.

Pretending to be a writer. Preparing to be a writer. Practicing to be a writer.

Deseray was doing a Writer's Workshop at the library on Wednesday. Now normally I wouldn't have had the chance to drive down and be a part of that. But circumstances in my personal life all fell into a strange sort of place and made it not only possible, but it seemed like I was supposed to drive down and be a part of that activity. I was actually pretty excited to be going down there to do that. It was Deseray and I who as children sat on the floor of her bedroom and acted out the dialog for the story that we were writing. We made up several imaginary worlds that we played in as well as wrote about. So this Writer's Workshop was something I was looking forward to doing with her during this rather stressful time of my life.

I packed up my writing bag, the bag that I had sewn on my NaNoWriMo badges. I filled it with tools that I might find useful. I didn't know who was going to be there. I was bringing my own children. They are all writers. The girls love to write their own stories and scripts. Zeb claims not to be a writer. But he writes his own game blog. I didn't know if there would be other children there or if it was going to be adults. So in my bag I packed my Rory Story Cubes, my Storybook game, my notebook that I had written one of my novels in, “No Plot, No Problem”, and the other 'writer' book I am reading as well as the book I am taking notes in about what I read there. Oh, and of course I packed my laptop, with my bookmarks for NaNoWriMo, and all of my favorite author blogs and pages.

Well, lets just say I didn't get much writing work done that night. But I did have fun making up silly stories with my dice.

Also this week, I have been working on getting one of my novels sent out. Wow, that is something. One moment I am excited. The next I am sure that I will not be doing that. It can't be the right time for that. But yesterday I did it. :) Actually it was my daughter who pressed the send button for me. I had been sitting at the table all ready to go. Ella looks at me and say, “It's only an email.” I do love my kids. I was making too big of a deal about it. It was only an email. So I just went ahead and attached the files and finished the email. I decided to let her press the send. As my words were flying away from me through cyberspace, my youngest daughter tells me, “It's okay Mom, if they say no, I will cheer you up.” So now I have to brag a little.. My children are the smartest people in the world!

Now that one of my stories has moved out into the world, it is time for me to open the door and push another one out. I will try to have the second out ready to send next week. Hopefully this time will be easier, isn't the first time of doing anything supposed to be hard? But then it gets easier as you do it over and over. Well, I hope so. I want to get that finished and out of the way before November. Because I once again want to be a part of NaNoWriMo. I only have 12 days to get ready for that. I would like to get some sort of outline or at least a bit of an idea of where I want to go with that new story before November 1^st. But we will see. I seem to be the type (at least the last 2 years) to just let the words and characters do what they want to do. I am looking forward to writing new words again.

I know that the next several weeks are going to be filled with pretending, preparing, and practicing being a writer.

Synopsis

syn·op·sis   [si-nop-sis]

noun, plural syn·op·ses  [-seez]

1. a brief or condensed statement giving a general view of some subject.
2. a compendium of heads or short paragraphs giving a view of the whole.
3. a brief summary of the plot of a novel, motion picture, play, etc.

This doesn't sound like a big deal. This doesn't sound like it should be a hard thing to do. But for some reason, this is something that I have been avoiding. When looking at submitting one of my novels, I see that I must send a synopsis to many of the publishers. So then the question before me is how do I summarize and condense all of those words into a few short pages or paragraphs? What can I say about my story that will make an editor actually want to read it?

This is similar to when someone asked, “What is your novel about?” I find this a very difficult question to answer. I am sure that given time and practice I might be able to more easily answer this question. Just as writing a synopsis will likely become more easy. But for me, writing the words of my story was easy. It was fun. I enjoyed this time. This, what I am doing now, is work. But I suppose it is something I must learn to do if I have any hope of actually doing this thing. Baby steps.

Yesterday I started making an outline for my story, chapter by chapter. Yes, this might seem backwards. Shouldn't I have written an outline before I wrote the story. Well, my answer here is, maybe. But I didn't. At one time I had all of the pieces written on notecards so that I could move them around to see how best they fit together. If I knew where those cards might be it would have been easy to use them for this outline of my synopsis.

So the last two days I have worked through my story, pulling out the most important bits. All in all it didn't take that much time. 15 minutes here, 20 there. Last night I finished the last chapter. I guess this means that today, I will have to start putting the words of the outline together and see what I end up with. Hopefully it won't be something horrid.

Hehe.. So what is my story about anyhow? Well, it is about this girl, who... I think it still needs a little work.

Road Blocks

The last two weeks it seems that where ever I go, I end up on a road that is closed. On several of my drives I turn after coming across one of these road blocks only to take yet a different road that is also closed. On my next drive I choose a different path so that I will avoid these closed roads. But somehow, I still end up finding another road closed sign. It seemed almost a joke until today when I sat down to think about it. It then actually felt more like a symbol of my life. I see things moving in one direction only to be stopped in my tracks by a road closed sign. So I turn and change my course, only to discover that path also blocked.

I am still not completely sure what this means to me, other than the State of NE has a lot of road crews out working right now. But I do know that it is time for me to find a different path. I am a little bit worried that this path is not on any map that I have looked at. But I guess the worst that can happen is that at the end of the path I find another Road Closed sign and I have to turn around and go a different direction.

I have been given a deadline of Friday by He Who Must Not be Named. (Or Jay Werkheiser) I will blame, or give credit where it is due. :) Yes, I am supposed to send something out by Friday. That is only five days from now. When I hear those words they are different than when I say them. And when I say those words they are different than when I type them. When they are in my head it is only me who I will be accountable to. But when I type them here, when I post this, then those will not have been just words in my head.

This is exactly the reason that I am posting those words tonight. This is going to be a very busy week for me. I have many things that I have to do or take care of this week; work, school, my kids, things in my life I have little control over but need to take care of just the same. But I will also spend some part of each day writing. This will be writing something new. I will also spend some part of this week making sure that by Friday I will have some of my words ready to send out for a stranger to read. WOW! Did I really say that? Friday. Five days from now I will step out of my nest and test those wings.  And if I do fly, I do not expect to see a road closed sign in the air.

Believe I Can Fly.. Part Two

Now for the 'Habits' that if find more difficult.
Setting ambitious but achievable goals:

This is something I have a hard time with.  I can set writing goals, as in writing every day or writing a certain amount of words per day.  But anything farther than that and I question if it is achievable.  I know that this is because I have never had anything published and even more than that I have never even sent anything out.  It all comes down to the fact that I am a chicken.  I have always been a secret writer.  This has been a part of me that I have not shared with many people.

I suppose if I had to tell myself anything it would be that I am at that point.  I am standing on the edge of the cliff.  I could just sit here in my nest where I am safe and write for myself.  This would be safe, and I am not sure there is anything even wrong with this.  But the question now is not whither I will write or not.  Because I know I will write.  But will I write with the intent to share those words with others.  Will I jump out of that nest and see if I can fly?

But that is scary!  I have only ever let a handful of people read the things that I have written.  Am I strong enough to keep on writing if I send it out and someone tells me it is terrible.  For a time I had nearly stopped writing.  I found my way back again two years ago.  Being able to write again has made me a whole person.  It has brought things back to my life that I can't believe I let go of.  I do not want to lose that part of me again.

And there is another part, another habit, that I find difficult.
Finish what I start and submit what I finish:

Over the last two years, I have been really good at finishing what I start.  I work hard at getting the entire novel written.  I do not stop until it is finished.  But the second part of that... Now that is where I am stuck.  I told myself that in June I was going to send at least one of my stories somewhere.  June has come and gone. I did not send anything out.  Then I said I want to have something ready to send out by WorldCon.  I went to Chicago.  I had one of my stories "I think" ready.  But yet I have not sent it out.

I keep telling myself, I need to read through it one more time.  I need to find the perfect place to send it off to.  But still I sit right here on the edge of my nest.  I look out at the world beyond me.  I want to believe that I can jump and that I will not fall to the ground.

The good thing about all of this, is that I have told enough people what I am doing.  I have told them I wrote a story.  (The word novel I still find hard to say.  But here in this post I am trying to make that more real.)  People will come up to me and ask.  A week ago it was my Aunt who asked.  Two days ago it was my son. These people are making me accountable.  They are making me feel like I need to, well, at least try.

My first finished novel is about a girl (a writer) who learned to believe.  She had forgotten and lost a part of herself.  In this and so many other ways that girl in my story is me.  In the end she learned that she could fly!  She learned to believe.  Maybe for me to be truly finished with that story, that novel, I have to learn to believe myself.

Believe I Can Fly... Part One

Today midst the lessons with my children I read a chapter of the book I am currently reading.  I had not gotten far into the chapter when I found myself looking for a notebook.  I needed to start taking notes.  I wanted to remember some of the things I had just read, and I wanted to make my own comments on these things.  After I finished reading the chapter, I had 6 pages of hand written notes in my notebook.  Yes, I know, I seem a little crazy even to myself at times.

But now I am going to be taking those notes and attempt to use them as an outline for the rest of this blog post.

This chapter was discussing several habits that I as a writer should work on.  Or maybe better said, if I wish to be a writer I should work on making these 7 things into habits.  As I read through each of them and the authors thoughts on them, I noticed that some of them I was already able to do.  Others I had not yet done.   Some of them I can do, but don't always.  So I guess they are not really habits.

The first is to write daily.  I have heard many people say this.  I have said this myself.  I do this nearly every day.  Not all of the writing I do is one of my novels.  But I do make an effort to do some sort of writing work every day.  For me to feel that it is truly a habit, I believe that I will have to make sure that at least some of this writing work does involve actually added new words to something that I am working on.

I find that I can take little bits of time out of my day, when I am walking or driving or even doing dishes to do some thinking about where my story is going.  I can be talking with my children and see just where that next chapter is heading.  I have begun to carry around several little notebooks so that I can jot down a note or two so I do not forget something.  I have taken notes on my cell phone as I walked in the evening.  These acts help me to keep everything in mind.  So that when I next sit down at the keyboard I am ready to write.

Another of the habits this author suggested to me was "write quickly and with Intensity."  With November just a couple of weeks away and the coming of NaNoWriMo I just have to smile.  My first completed novel came from my time in NaNo world in 2010.  Here writing quickly is a must. 1667 words per day for 30 days just to finish.  It is like winning a race!  Since 2010, I have completely 4 more NaNo months.  I know that I can do this.  But I am still worrying, "Will I actually be able to get those 50,000 words in 30 days?"  And when I think this, I have to tell myself, "If I want to I WILL!"

In regards to the Intensity part of this habit, that is harder.  I know that as I read over my words I will often feel the words.  Some of them are bound up as part of me.  They feel almost as real to me as some of my own true memories.  And best of all, when I have read my words to my children I have seen the excitement in their eyes as they figured something out.  There are times I am hardly able to stop writing.  That to me is intensity.


I will end the first part of this post with a quote that I posted on my Facebook wall after I had read it..

Sow a thought, and you reap an act;
Sow an act, and you reap a habit;
Sow a habit, and you reap your character;
Sow a character, and you reap a destiny.
                                  Samuel Smiles

I really liked this quote.  I see so many things in my life as a series of little steps.  Almost all of these start with a simple thought.  Some never go anywhere, and others?  Who knows where they might take me.  A thought today might be my destiny.

Weaving the Threads

Over the course of the last couple of years, I have been thinking a great deal about how writing is like weaving. We use our words as threads. These threads are woven together into sentences and paragraphs. As we continue to weave the characters, the plots, and the ideas together we weave our words into stories. I like this idea. It makes me happy. I believe that it is an easy way to see what it is that I am doing as I sit in from of my computer or hold a blank piece of paper in front of me.

I have been using this idea as I write. I see the threads of the story. I see how I can cause them to change the look of the fabric. I see how as the words are woven together they create something that could only have been imagined by me. Just as the words that someone else uses can only be used to create their own fabric.

Over the weekend, I was thinking of this idea of weaving in a completely different aspect of my life. The last two years of my life have been years of change for me. I have spent a great portion of the last two years thinking. Now just so that anyone who reads this might have a bit of understanding of where I am coming from I will have to share a bit of information I might not normally share with the rest of the world. But in August of 2010 my husband and I decided to get separated. Clearly when something like that happens it is a huge change, a turning point in your life.

But how does this fit into my idea of weaving words together? This past week, I was sewing garb for my daughters to wear to the Ren Faire. This event is something that we have enjoyed for many years. We were excited to be going. But this year it was different. This year was the first time I had taken my children alone. Now, I had gone to the Ren Faire without my husband, in the last two years. But that had been with my friends, not my children. So once again the events of my life caused me to think.

As I sat there at my sewing machine, I was looking at the fabrics I was using. I saw the threads that were woven together to make the fabric. Now if you have ever sewing something, you know that often you must use a seam ripper to tear out something that you had sewn together. It was then that I saw my life. Not only did my words weave together to make a story. But my life was woven by threads. People, ideas, dreams, things I like, things I want.. these were all threads in the fabric of my life. These are the things that make me who I am.

Some of these threads are only a tiny bit of the fabric. Some of these threads are woven throughout the fabric; it would not be the cloth that it is without them. The things that I value, the things that make me who I am; these are the threads that you see in the fabric of my life. These threads have changed over the years. But if you look back at them you can clearly see them. You can see the changes.

My life: So much of who I was had been wrapped up in my marriage. It was a huge part of my life, maybe it was my life for the last 14 years. Then in 2010, it was ripped apart. I knew that I needed time. I asked for time. I did not want to decide anything for at least a year. I know me. I had to be able to step away from all of that. I had to not think about any of that for a while. I was very lucky that I have been able to do that. My parents have been a large reason why I have been. And I am very grateful to them for that.

I did take that year to NOT think. I took a year to NOT do anything. I took a year to just take care of my children and myself. This is not to say that I didn't think about the future or what I wanted or what I needed. But just that I knew I didn't have to do anything about it.

The threads of my fabric were torn, they were broken. I needed to figure out which of those threads I needed and wanted in my fabric. I want you to visualize something here. Think of a piece of cloth that has been ripped apart. Even one where the fabric has been cut carefully with a pair of scissors. All along the edge are the broken threads. These are the places where things will fray. This is where it can be pulled away from the rest of the fabric.

I now see life like that. Some of those threads were pieces of my husband woven together with me. Some of those threads were dreams or interests that we shared. Some of them were me as I was woven together into his life. Some of them were our children and their lives.

These are the things I have been thinking about for the last two years. I have been trying to find out who I am. I have been trying to find out what I value. I have been trying to find out what I need. I still don't know the answers to this. Sometimes I find a thread and I pull on it just a little. I think it is something that I do not need. But then as I keep looking I notice that maybe it is more deeply woven into who I am than I thought. Maybe I look back at my life and I notice that there was a thread or something or someone who I was a long time ago. But I haven't seen it in the fabric for a very long time. Then I wonder why? I look at these things and have to evaluate if they are something that might be me. But didn't fit when it was us. Does this thing now have value? Is it part of me?

I have been very slowly finding myself. I am not sure that anyone is able to completely do this. New threads are always being brought into the fabric. And this is good.

Now if someone was to ask me “What I am going to do?” I am not sure even after two years that I am ready to answer that question. But I am closer. I know somethings that I don't want to do. I know somethings that I do value and I want as a part of my life. But the important thing here is that I am ready to do something. I still need to look very carefully at the threads that I am using to weave this cloth. I need to try and see what I want it to look like when I am finished. I have started to zigzag those raw edges back together.