Feeling Over-the-Moon... But There's Obstacles

In case I haven't mentioned it 13 zillion times in the last month (on The Muffin), my manuscript is getting published. The stack of papers I labored over for years is going to become a book. A publisher said yes, they liked it, they really really liked it. (Sorry, Sally Field--I couldn't help myself.)

However, there was a moment recently where I was stopped dead in my tracks.

You see, I'm white and old. I'm also a woman. 

My main character is black and young. And he's male.

This is a problem these days, and I understand--or I think I partially understand. I obviously cannot fully or completely understand what it's like to be marginalized and ignored and silenced, since I am white. And elderly. And I have no idea what it's like to be a male and black, in a day and age where being black and male all-too-often means there is a target on their back. Literally and figuratively.

I wrote a post about what stopped me in my tracks. (Please stop by and leave a comment if you haven't already. I need some honest reactions.) 

                                                                        image by Pixabay

My book is still going to be published, but I plan on not making a single penny from it. Oh, I will peddle it from the trunk of my car and I'll set up book events and I'll go to Tulsa this May to be a part of the 100-year anniversary of the Tulsa Race Massacre, but my part of the sales will go somewhere else... it won't be going into my pocket.

And I'm not sure why I've been absent from this blog for months, but I hope my next post appears relatively soon...

 

Twists and Turns in Writing (and Life)

I’m twisted. I guess it would be more apt to say I love twisted writing.

I adore books and stories where the reader has to turn corners, clueless about what’s on the other side. Chuck Palahniuk’s writing is twisted in the best sense of the word. Joe Hill (he’s Stephen King’s son) keeps me on the edge of my seat. Sandra Dallas’s novels almost always have a major twist at the end.

These days are twisted… in the worst sense of the word.

To make sense of the world, what does a writer do? They write.

Recently I helped rescue a hawk. It was only a month old, and when a tree was cut down, the nest fell, and the baby bird was pacing in yards, desperate for food and water. My friend and I ended up taking it to the local wild bird sanctuary.

Slogging through an essay’s draft that’s simmering right now, a draft that begins with that baby hawk, I’m reminded of one of my favorite essays. It’s "Time and Distance Overcome" by Eula Bliss, and it's brilliant. It begins with a lot of information on telephone poles… and then it turns a major corner. A major corner.

Every summer I co-teach a graduate class. It’s full of teacher-writers. Usually it’s face to face but this year, it’s being conducted via Zoom meetings. Every summer I’m bowled over by the writing. This June is no different.

One of the teachers shared a short story she’d written. It was a moving tale of a mother who’s dealing with a miscarriage, a busy toddler daughter and a husband who doesn’t completely understand the grief she’s dealing with… and then I was punched in the stomach by the realization that what I thought was happening was not what was really happening. It was a whallop in the same vein as the one I got watching The Sixth Sense.

If you’d like to read an incredible essay—another one of my favorites—head to a post I've written for The Muffin. I’ve included a link to Brian Doyle’s powerful essay, “Joyas Voladoras.” It turns corners in a smooth and polished way.

And as far as my personal life, I turned a corner on Friday. I chose to not sign a contract at my old school, so I was (desperately) looking for a job for the last month or so. On Friday, I got a job offer (and accepted it). I’m thrilled. It's with a principal I love... which makes all the difference.

How about you? Do you incorporate twists and turns in your writing? How are you making sense of what is going on in our country?

These Crazy Days

These days, I’ m worried about what everybody’s worried about. No, not a lack of toilet paper (we have enough of that). But, along with the more serious concerns, there are some minor ones.

Like my hair. In the last 6 months, I found a shorter hairstyle that I like. Every month, I was getting it trimmed.

No more. I can trim my bangs, and probably do a passable job, but the back? The sides? I’m afraid I’m going to be rocking a mullet soon, and nobody wants to see Sioux in a mullet.

The corona 15. People (me included) are eating more than usual. We’re stuck with books, our television and our refrigerator. There are jokes that we’ll all gain 15 pounds before this is over. Stress eating or boredom eating? You be the judge.

My yarn supply. One of the things I’ve been occupying myself with (along with avoiding writing and the distance teaching I’m doing) is knitting. I’ve knit a baby blanket for my soon-to-be-born grandson (due in June). I’ve knit a baby/family blanket for a French great-niece or nephew (due in September). I’ve knit one scarf for our dog rescue’s silent auction. Now I’m knitting a scarf for myself with some left-over yarn, and I’m afraid I won’t have enough.

These days, we’re losing loved ones. My son, a doctor, is still okay. Everyone I know and love is uninfected and healthy--except for a couple of friends who are battling cancer. This week, the coronavirus claimed two legendary singers--Bill Withers and John Prine. Everybody’s familiar with Bill Withers, but John Prine flew under the radar when it came to some. Musicians from all different backgrounds loved him, and commonfolk like me adored his humor, his poignancy and his humbleness.

If you'd like to read what scares me when it comes to writing, read my post on The Muffin. And, if you'd like to hear John Prine (in his earlier years), listen to "Angel From Montgomery."

If you'd like to see how subtle (and how funny) John Prine could be, listen to "The Other Side of Town" which is about a husband's selective hearing...

... because these days, we need reasons to laugh and to embrace the joy when we find it.

What We Know or What We Want to Know?

When I was much, much younger, I was told, "Write what you know." 

Today, that would involve battling my mustache... and I'm a woman. It would involve falling asleep at 7:30 at night on the couch, surrounded by a puddle of drool. It would involve daily trying to camouflage my poochy belly.

That's what I know. Does anyone want to read about that stuff?

Probably not.

For a serious discussion of the dilemma I'm currently facing, go check out my post on The Muffin. 

And if you have a suggestion or you know an agent or a publisher (who owes you a big favor), please let me know.

After all, I'm looking for just one yes...

You Asked For It

      Avert your eyes if your eyeballs are sensitive to flashy brilliance. But come back at the end... where a smidgen of pride flourishes and where darkness returns.

         Yes, this one of my new Crocs. It was given to me by my enabler husband. Of course, in this picture the strap is not where it is supposed to be. I wear my Crocs in the tres chic way--with the strap pushed to the front, so that it protects the top of my delicate size 11 foot.

        If you head to The Muffin on January 16, you can read my guest post. It's David Letterman and Chris Rock and writing advice... all rolled into one--and I only used one set of ellipsis.

        That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Just one. I had to slave over the post, paring it down from 147 sets of ellipsis--revising and drafting over and over--until I got it down to a single, solitary set.

         And now for the dark side. (A little Eddie and the Cruisers for you, Val.) One of my stories, "The Handler," had made it to the next-to-last hurdle for Chicken Soup's Thanks to Mom. Well today, it ended up lame. It leaped up, intending to clear with air to spare... only to crash into a mangled heap. The CS people said my story should be sent to the Pulitzer Prize people was being cut.

         What disappointment have you recently stared down? Minds that are licking their wounds want to know...(Hey! I had myself so reined in with those enchanting ellipsis, I had to let loose at some point...)



         

        

The Power of Our Words

       Do our words matter? Does anybody read the lines we write down?

       I did a guest post at The Muffin, where I pondered the power of our words. Here is a link, in case you have a few spare minutes and would like to peruse...

http://muffin.wow-womenonwriting.com/2014/05/friday-speak-out-power-of-story.html

These are some of the writers who shared their story
at the 2014 Listen to Your Mother St. Louis show.
My guest post at The Muffin tells about something that happened
to me right after the final show...

The Inside Secrets

       If you were inside my house last night, with all the firecrackers going off, you would have been welcome by Foley, our hospitable Golden Retriever. Always the charming host, he would have paced around you...endlessly. If you spent the night, he would have scratched at your bedroom door to get in, and then would have scratched on the door to get out...over and over and over.

      Foley is storm-/firecracker/rustle-of-leaves phobic. He paces and pants and isn't comfortable anywhere when thunder or fireworks disturb the airwaves ...unless he's drugged. We avoided the dispensation of the doggie downers last night--but tonight, it may be a different story. 

     Of course, my neighbors have cleared all the furniture out of their house so they can fill it with firecrackers the holiday is over, my neighbors obviously do not have a calendar and have no knowledge it is now no longer the 4th of July, so I'm sure tonight will be just as noisy as last night quiet.

       How did you celebrate the holiday? What are your hopes for the United States? America is a wonderful country but it's far from perfect.

      And hey, speaking of perfection...If you're in the moooood to read some perfect advice about writing, go have some coffee with your muffin. My guest post was inspired after reading James Lipton's memoir. (He's the host of Inside the Actor's Studio.)




      Check it out. You might find something of substance there...

 

Have Some Coffee or Tea...and a Muffin

        I've been called many things. However, a "pest" is not one of them, and I don't want that to be added to my repertoire...(Ask the WWWPs--my writing critique group. They could spew out many colorful terms that I answer to.)

photo by henry

        I've done a guest post at The Muffin.  Brew up a beverage. Sit down a spell. And if you drink too much and your bladder get's full, don't worry.

         'Cause my post is all about "p"....

Not-Good Friends (When It Comes to Writing)

         I have a writing friend, a founding member of the WWWP. I'll call her Lynnette (not her reall name) so the guilty can be protected.

         Lynnette shared a romance story that she's working on; reading it made me mad as a cat being given a bath. I guess she was taking Tammy's place. Tammy was MIA last night at our critique meeting, and she is the one who regularly pulls mind-blowing (or butt-blowing) things out of her sphincter. So perhaps I should give "Lynnette" some slack; maybe she was just channeling our missing member...

Okay, I lied. "Lynnette" doesn't deserve to be protected. If you see this woman,
bow down as you simultaneously hiss at her.

         Why was I spitting mad? One, I dislike romance stories, but I loved this one.

         Two, the voice (of a male narrator) was so vivid and dead-on, I was jealous. I kept trying to put a writing curse on her with my evil looks ("May your pencil run out of lead and all your pens leak out all their ink," and "May your cat Smeagol get 'cat-scratch fever' and tear up all your empty journals and copy paper.") as I read her story, but I'm sure it didn't work. Her story reminded me of why I love Stephen King's Delores Claiborne--the voice of the narrator is so chillingly clear, it's as if that character has come alive and is speaking to the reader.

         "Lynnette" said, (to make me even more furious) "I think this will be my last romance," and "I hate writing fiction." And why, I asked. If you get out of your box and find you have talent, why stop? Continue to write your 'tried and true" but also continue to take frequent steps out of your box.

         What is outside of your box that has resulted in some success? Share, and if you have time tomorrow, stop by The Muffin and leave a comment. I've got some recycling (for writing) tips...

         

Wow in More Ways Than One

   I thought I was doing well having purchased a couple of boxes of Christmas cards from Target. No, they're not sent yet nor are they even addressed yet, but it's more progress than I've made, compared to some years. They are not spectacular, but they are real...

     However, today I got a handmade card  from Lynn that made me want to pitch my two boxes of cards into the trash. The photo does not do it justice, but understand--it is made from tiny strips of paper, some sparkly, and there are a couple of decorative brads to augment it, and holding the strips into the tree shape, Lynn has sewn them on--via a sewing machine--using gold thread and a zigzag stitch.

      She even numbered and signed them, and made 150 of them! Wow!  I got number 71. If I had made those cards, I would have been into the eggnog and by the end, they would not resemble Christmas trees in any way.

      The other "wow" comes from the Women On Writing site. Check out the Muffin on Friday. I'm doing a guest post (the "Friday Speak Out"), and after reading it, you might be able to get a fresh start on a piece that's being persnickety.

Guest Author: Tracy Seeley

       Exciting news! On July 12, Tracy Seeley will be doing a guest post on my blog. Tracy is the author of My Ruby Slippers: The Road Back to Kansas.

      Her post will help writers who find their words are just not working for them. (Don't we all have uncooperative words at times?)

      I was lucky enough to be the random winner of a copy of Tracy's book; the contest was hosted by WOW--Women on Writing.(I cannot wait to read it!)

      For those who love memoir, for those who are writing a memoir, or for those who want to pick Tracy's brain about the writing/publishing process, leave your questions in the comment section on July 12 and Tracy will answer them.