Forget-Me-Nots

So, I started thinking about my own mortality while walking into the hospital for a check-up. As I rode the elevator to the 5th floor where my doctor's office is located, I was not worried about my health, per say, but about the mortality of the things that I do.

Being a parent has caused me to be even more aware of the things in my life that I would like to leave behind for my descendants. For instance, my writing and paintings are definitely something that I would like for my grandchildren to cherish after I am gone.

While sitting in the waiting room, I cracked open one of the last few chapters in my library book Louisiana Women: Their Life and Times, a fantastic compilation of biographical essays about powerful, intellectual Louisiana ladies. Women like Kate Chopin, who lived for a few years just south of where I now call home, helped pave the way for independent women writers. She was, and still is, seen as a fearless person who went against the norm of society and has lived on in pages of novels, short stories, and bios.

In 2010, when being a successful woman is the norm, what does it take to leave a legacy like the one Kate Chopin has left the world? Growing up we are taught that everyone has special qualities. So what is the new requirement for being special enough for a person's books to be read for years and years to come, to be the next Kate Chopin, Ernest Hemmingway, or Robert Penn Warren?

A couple of days ago the muses wiggled their magic wands and filled my head full of story ideas and the ability to edit flawlessly. I guess all things come in due time, but man have I needed a little sprinkling of fairy dust!

I found this interesting and humorous book by Heather Sellers in the Writers Digest online shop on Sunday evening...which is strange in and of itself considering I do not have a Writers Digest subscription nor have I bought one of their magazines in a couple of years. I immediately placed the book on hold at Barnes & Noble. Maybe I should have gotten a copy of the newest digest as well. Hmmm... Of course I had already begun writing again by the time I picked up my new "self-help" book yesterday. Nevertheless, this book is a straight up, rough around the edges, no bs guide to getting up off of your butt (or on your butt for writers) and start actually doing what you love. Between this cute little pocket-sized manual and reading Louisiana Women: Their Lives and Times edited by Janet Allured and Judith F. Gentry (a nice jolt of "I am woman, hear me roar), my creative storytelling fire is most certainly lit!

Speaking of the muses and inspiration, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it seems that most of my best ideas spring into being when I am trying desperately to take a nap or getting ready to go to sleep at night. I even get hit with the writing bug while I am reading something else...a book that has no relevance to the subject matter of my little idea bursts. Heather Sellers says "Write what you want to read." Is my brain simply feeling the urge to multi-task?

So, at the moment crisis has been averted and I am back on track. Who knows what tomorrow or even next week will bring. That being said, I will continue to sleep with a stack of books and a #2 BIC mechanical pencil on my bedside table.

Excuses, Excuses...

(Writing's) a lot like painting by the numbers; you may get one corner of the picture just right, but you're nowhere near experiencing the flow and excitement of creation. It's far more important (and constructive) to get the entire tale down on paper, warts and all, then come back and refine it. - Persia Woolley, How to Write and Sell Historical Fiction

"I have too much to do. It's too noisy. My favorite show is on television. I need to cook supper. I'm too tired." These are a few examples of the hundreds of excuses that I tend to make for myself to avert my attention away from editing the stories that I have written.

I mean, I wrote the story. It will be there when I get ready to edit, right? Sure. Unless a natural disaster occurs or the local thief peddles in scribbled-up notebooks, the manuscript will likely remain under a stack of magazines, just where I left it. So why can't I edit my story and get it over with?

My husband took note a few days ago that I had not actually sat in the "writing nook" that I painstakingly put together in our bedroom. The black chair is now covered in stacks of clothes and cat hair. I find my furry friend curled up asleep in my nook 9 times out of 10.

I am, no doubt, going through a phase that most, if not all, writers go through from time to time. I cannot pinpoint if it is a lack of discipline, the unwillingness of taking my job seriously, or if there is an amount of unconscious fear that has built up this barrier in front of me. Quite often I find myself reading the first page of Chapter Ten in Persia Woolley's book, trying to get it to sink in:

It is precisely this challenge, and the discipline required to meet it, that makes the difference between you and the hundreds of wanna-bes who have grand stories and interesting characters in mind but won't commit to treating writing like a job. It takes a combination of dedication, determination and desperation to become a historical novelist,...

So. why is finishing up a story, or writing it to begin with, so damn hard? The concept is there, the research has been done. Is it the fear of failure that plagues me so? Some of these questions cannot be explained in a simple "how to" book.

What do you think?

One Small Success and Overdue Library Books

Last summer while reading Neil Gaiman's book of short stories called Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders I was amazed by his methods as a writer - getting an inspiration for a story and immediately writing the entire thing, let's say during a flight to a particular city. In other words, he can write his stories in one sitting.

For those of us with toddlers, heaping mounds of laundry, and television programs to watch, writing a story in the span of a few hours is not very realistic. I my case, writing historical fiction short stories, I prefer to take it slowly - purging my brain in small inspirational bursts. Historical fiction is all about facts and I definitely do not want to be the nincompoop that gets her literary start by getting important details wrong. With that said, I have successfully completed the first half of a short story that I am becoming more and more proud of. One small step for man...

Now, as much as I would like to sit in a room surrounded by books that never have to be returned to libraries or friends and magically appear as I need them, I do have to think of little things such as due dates.

It is becoming more and more expensive to buy ink cartridges for the home printer, and even more to pay for copies at, let's say, Kinkos. So, I've figured out that between making copies of the many pages of a particular library book and then having to buy a new cartridge because I have used the ink up pretty much equals the price to buy the book from the bookstore. However, as awesome as it would be to have an unlimited bank account designated for the purchasing of books - either for pleasure or research, of course - this little resource does not exist, for me at least. So, now I am facing the issue of having to continue to recheck out the book over and over until I have the money to order a copy for myself (it is not one that can be found easily on the Barnes & Noble shelves) and NOT let myself mark or highlight in the library's copy. Therefore, I will keep the library book until I can get my own or else the Shreveport library system sends the book police after me.

I can see it now... A burly dog catcher-type man wielding a large net and a Taser gun waiting for me to leave my house so that he can shock me to the ground before scooping up my overdue library books in his net. Did I mention that he is wearing special goggles in case the reader tries to scratch his eyeballs out for taking his or her books? If it turns out that you never leave your house, said library police bursts through your door, pours out your coffee, takes books, and locks you up in a cell where no reading is allowed until you pay the fee and promise to buy your books from the store from now on.

Somebody should write a story about this...

Finding the Positive Through Rejection

I always know that I have received a response letter from the editor of a particular journal that I have submitted to when I spy an envelope in my mailbox written upon with my own handwriting. Believe it or not, the SASE does still exist.

I never know when one of these letters will show up in the day's stack of bills and bank statements and my breath always catches before opening one. The first couple of letters I received, I have to admit that I felt like a little kid opening presents on Christmas morning. I was let down when the only thing I found in my "stocking" was a lump of coal.

Thank you for letting us consider your work for publication in ____ Review. We found your writing to be of exceptional quality. Unfortunately.... blah blah blah.

I have gone through the various stages of emotion, much like a person grieving over a departed loved one. Initially I was very let down, sad even. My husband immediately responded to my disappointment with a hug and encouragement to trudge on and try again. I then resolved to be angry, offended that my literary works were brushed aside or rejected completely.

This week I have received two of these "not at this time" letters, one via SASE and one via e-mail. My breath still caught at the sight of Editor in the address portion of my inbox and my own sloppy handwriting on an envelope underneath my Comcast bill. Instead of feeling sad or angry, I laughed. I knew what they were going to say. I have finally figured out that I can laugh and be happy that somebody who knows something about literature has taken the time to just read my stuff. It has given me the "I'll show 'em!" attitude.

While doing some research on a short story(sitting in a room full of soccer moms while my daughter got her 45 minutes worth of dance instruction), I got an idea for yet another story! Bonus - I even thought up the first line! I lay in bed last night with a pretty floral journal that my best friend gave me for Christmas. Instead of writing down the idea for the tale, I actually began to write it! When my husband came to bed, I was already 3 pages into the story. I was scribbling like a mad woman and finally had to call it quits when my eyes began to get tired, my hands asleep from writing in an upward position. I'm eager to continue at bedtime tonight...my favorite time to write. The creative part of my brain is rolling like a mouse in a wheel.

Hey...I think I've gotten my groove back!

A + B = Creating My Writing Niche

In an attempt to get my writing groove back, I decided that the best way to do this would be to create a comfortable writing area. When I was on a roll before Christmas, I sat propped up in bed, leaning against the head board. Now that we have a new bed, however, there is no head board to prop against.

I have spent this week gathering accessories from different stores around town. None of the items were expensive but paired right, they come together to make a cute little niche. Yes, I had to take shelf back to the store because it didn't come with mounting hardware. Yes, I had to wait for my husband to help me drill the screws into the wall to hang it. Yes, I have forced my cat to find a new place to lounge after switching out chairs. All in all, I think it will be worthwhile. Now if I could get rid of this aggravating head cold! Achooo!

"Once upon a time......."

Books, Books, and More Books

In trying to make a comfortable writing space, it was necessary for me to move several pieces of furniture in the room. It seems as if the more books I unload from an area, the more books I discover I had stuck there for "the time being". They've spent months sitting on shelves collecting dust bunnies, waiting for me to pick them up again-many of which have never been read.

Beth Carswell from Abe Books lists the following reasons why these dusty relics have yet to be read:

• It's a book I feel like I should read
• It's part of a series and I have not read the others yet
• Everyone I know is recommending it
• It's intimidatingly enormous
• It's a classic
• My reading stacks get wildly out of control
• The siren call of the bargain bin
• The author wrote something else we like
• It's a textbook or assignment
• We have a friend who works at the bookshop
• It was a gift (my addition)

Remaining Unread: The Top Ten Reasons We Don’t Get to Certain Books Read the entire Abe Books article.