I spent the week with my father. He was in the hospital, about half an hour from my home. In 2004 - he would have been 76 then - he needed a pacemaker. In December 2006, he needed a mechanical valve. This time, he needed an ICD, which is a pacemaker and a defibrillator.
Sure, he wasn't happy about being in the hospital. Who is? He was preoccupied with work even though he wasn't feeling good. He wanted to be home with his dog, Tasha. He was angry and frustrated part of the time.
But there were times when we talked to pass the time. He told stories and he laughed and he let the nurses and techs tease him. And there were times when we simply sat and didn't talk at all.
His heart was just too weak, though, and the congestive heart failure too strong. He died last night.
It's cliche, but I wish I could go back to my last conversation with him. He wanted to call his work crew and let them know he wouldn't have any jobs for them this coming week. I told him we could call them Sunday or Monday, but right then he needed to rest. I held his hand and tried to comfort him. But I wish I could have a do-over and say something different.
So I'm going to say it all now:
Thank you for being a loving father. Thank you for setting a good example of how a strong faith in God can help a person find peace and happiness in life and help them gain perspective and a healthy dose of humility. Thank you for telling me you love me, for believing in me and cheering me on, and for being my biggest fan. Thank you for wanting to be a part of my life. It's such a simple thing, to love another person, yet relationships can be complicated. With you, it's easy. Thank you for loving my husband. For loving my children. For admiring me for homeschooling. For allowing me to care for you when you're sick. I admire you, Dad, because you accept your faults and you forgive me for mine. I love your bad jokes. I love how you always sound so happy to see me or to hear my voice on the telephone. I appreciate that you respect me enough not to sugarcoat anything: your honesty shows how much you believe in my strength. I love you, Dad. I'll miss you so very much.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Say it
As writers, we pull emotions into our writing from experiences - our own and by placing ourselves into the hearts and minds of others, sometimes strangers and sometimes people who never existed at all. Emotion on the page transforms a story from a succession of words to reality in the writer's mind and therefore in the reader's mind. We imagine what it must be like to experience tragedy or comedy; we walk into a different world and picture the sights and sounds; we project ourselves into the future or the past or perhaps just the next town over. But mainly, we envelop ourselves in the emotions of characters we've created, a strange mix of people we know and people we imagine.
I've had plenty of emotional experiences to pull from lately.
Last week, my husband and kids and I traveled to Mexico. My mom wanted to see them one last time. She's nearing the end of her battle with breast cancer. It's hard to imagine that my mom, so real in front of me, so THERE, could possibly not be here in the near future. Cancer isn't a part of who she is; it's an ailment that has pushed its way into her life and invaded her body. An unwelcome guest. An intruder. It's not who she is and it doesn't define her. I want it to go away and leave her alone. But it won't. It's an alien using her body as a host and eventually it will win.
It may take her body, but it won't take my mom away from me, not in the real sense. She will always be a part of my life. All the experiences we've shared, the good and the bad, all that's formed our relationship, will forever be part of me. I am the youngest of her 4 children, and I see her in each of us. What's strong and true in Mom is evident in the way her children are facing the remaining time with her, in how we are banding together and reinforcing our bonds, in how we can laugh and feel the sorrow and the joy of this time.
My siblings and I live near each other in the Seattle area while Mom lives far away in Mexico, a distance that has been difficult for all of us. The demands of job and family here at home add further difficulties. But when I'm down there, it all melts away. I shuck the guilt and the responsibilities slowly, day by day, until all that remains is me and Mom and a peace that makes words unnecessary, but I speak them anyway. Just to let her know one more time.
I've had plenty of emotional experiences to pull from lately.
Last week, my husband and kids and I traveled to Mexico. My mom wanted to see them one last time. She's nearing the end of her battle with breast cancer. It's hard to imagine that my mom, so real in front of me, so THERE, could possibly not be here in the near future. Cancer isn't a part of who she is; it's an ailment that has pushed its way into her life and invaded her body. An unwelcome guest. An intruder. It's not who she is and it doesn't define her. I want it to go away and leave her alone. But it won't. It's an alien using her body as a host and eventually it will win.
It may take her body, but it won't take my mom away from me, not in the real sense. She will always be a part of my life. All the experiences we've shared, the good and the bad, all that's formed our relationship, will forever be part of me. I am the youngest of her 4 children, and I see her in each of us. What's strong and true in Mom is evident in the way her children are facing the remaining time with her, in how we are banding together and reinforcing our bonds, in how we can laugh and feel the sorrow and the joy of this time.
My siblings and I live near each other in the Seattle area while Mom lives far away in Mexico, a distance that has been difficult for all of us. The demands of job and family here at home add further difficulties. But when I'm down there, it all melts away. I shuck the guilt and the responsibilities slowly, day by day, until all that remains is me and Mom and a peace that makes words unnecessary, but I speak them anyway. Just to let her know one more time.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Field's End Conference Report
The Field’s End conference differed from the NECRWA in that it was more relaxed which I didn't think was possible. The energy at the RWA conference was palpable. Everyone was so happy and chipper and hyper (oh, wait - maybe that was just me). Here, they were relaxed and chatty. People mingled and chatted, authors and editors all milling about and asking you what you were working on. One woman I spoke with about the two novels I’m working on said something along the lines of, “So often, writers finish something and send it off before they've even had a chance to let the story ripen and find its true potential. It's in the rewrite that the real story is discovered." Her comments made me feel so much better about my year-long revisions! I honestly think my stories weren’t ripe yet, because as I’m revising, I’m discovering a deeper, more meaningful story. Not just fluff and words on the page.
There were maybe a third of the people at this conference as at NECRWA. Maybe that's the only difference in the feeling and mood between the two conferences, because the people at the RWA conference were just as nice...but I think at this one, pretty much everyone there was a writing success story or an independent agent or independent editor or a noted columnist or radio personality or SOMETHING.
One breakout session I attended was so awesome, I could have gone home right after and gotten my money's worth. Jennifer Louden's "Writing Naked (With Your Clothes On): How to nurture your creative truth, romance your muse and get the work done" was - I swear - directed right at me. She's a motivational speaker and her workshop was SRO. I filled 6 pages of standard sized notebook paper. One thing that really resonated with me was her comment not to focus too much on or worry about the market, that there is no HEART in that. She spoke about writing from the heart - and how to GET to your heart, which she calls finding the truth in your writing. She had us free-write, and I discovered some things about my own motivations toward writing. A wonderful moment of self-discovery! But the most valuable things she gave me were steps to take, ways to get my butt in the chair and make my time productive, even if it's only 5 minutes or 15 minutes. A very, very good session and thanks to her, I’m finding ways to write every day!
During the Page One workshop, 11 pages were read and critiqued, but none of them were mine.That's okay, though. I still learned from the session. One thing that ticked me off was some people did not follow the guidelines posted on the website for submission which was one page double spaced. Some people got a good 500 words in there whereas those of us who followed the guidelines could only fit 250-300 words. But that's life. Not everyone follows the rules. Most of the pages read were very well-written, yet there was always something that could be better. I agreed with most of what the 2 critics said, and when I disagreed, it was because there was a great amount of diversity of story types and obviously, just two critics will be limited in their ability to critique based on their genre preferences. They definitely had an element they were comfortable in, and just making the workshop open to "fiction" was too broad a scope for the two critics. There was a stage actor/radio personality who read the pages aloud for all of us to hear. The critics both admitted that reading it was different than hearing it, but I wondered if they could have/should have asked for a second reading. At any rate, what I heard the critics comment on were voice, character, scene, and action. They wanted a distinct voice, an immediate character to relate to, for the opening page to be scenic, and for something to happen. All obvious expectations. However, when a page was in first person, they jumped on voice. When it was in third, they jumped on the action or the setting. I think there's a lesson there.
All in all, a good day, very unlike the fun I had with Mel and Jen, but worth the trip and an enjoyable time with my friend Ellie. We had a lot of laughs and we’re both fired up. I'll end this long missive with a quote from Roy Blount Jr. who was quoting someone else but I didn't catch the name:
"A blank page is God's way of showing us how hard it is to be God."
There were maybe a third of the people at this conference as at NECRWA. Maybe that's the only difference in the feeling and mood between the two conferences, because the people at the RWA conference were just as nice...but I think at this one, pretty much everyone there was a writing success story or an independent agent or independent editor or a noted columnist or radio personality or SOMETHING.
One breakout session I attended was so awesome, I could have gone home right after and gotten my money's worth. Jennifer Louden's "Writing Naked (With Your Clothes On): How to nurture your creative truth, romance your muse and get the work done" was - I swear - directed right at me. She's a motivational speaker and her workshop was SRO. I filled 6 pages of standard sized notebook paper. One thing that really resonated with me was her comment not to focus too much on or worry about the market, that there is no HEART in that. She spoke about writing from the heart - and how to GET to your heart, which she calls finding the truth in your writing. She had us free-write, and I discovered some things about my own motivations toward writing. A wonderful moment of self-discovery! But the most valuable things she gave me were steps to take, ways to get my butt in the chair and make my time productive, even if it's only 5 minutes or 15 minutes. A very, very good session and thanks to her, I’m finding ways to write every day!
During the Page One workshop, 11 pages were read and critiqued, but none of them were mine.That's okay, though. I still learned from the session. One thing that ticked me off was some people did not follow the guidelines posted on the website for submission which was one page double spaced. Some people got a good 500 words in there whereas those of us who followed the guidelines could only fit 250-300 words. But that's life. Not everyone follows the rules. Most of the pages read were very well-written, yet there was always something that could be better. I agreed with most of what the 2 critics said, and when I disagreed, it was because there was a great amount of diversity of story types and obviously, just two critics will be limited in their ability to critique based on their genre preferences. They definitely had an element they were comfortable in, and just making the workshop open to "fiction" was too broad a scope for the two critics. There was a stage actor/radio personality who read the pages aloud for all of us to hear. The critics both admitted that reading it was different than hearing it, but I wondered if they could have/should have asked for a second reading. At any rate, what I heard the critics comment on were voice, character, scene, and action. They wanted a distinct voice, an immediate character to relate to, for the opening page to be scenic, and for something to happen. All obvious expectations. However, when a page was in first person, they jumped on voice. When it was in third, they jumped on the action or the setting. I think there's a lesson there.
All in all, a good day, very unlike the fun I had with Mel and Jen, but worth the trip and an enjoyable time with my friend Ellie. We had a lot of laughs and we’re both fired up. I'll end this long missive with a quote from Roy Blount Jr. who was quoting someone else but I didn't catch the name:
"A blank page is God's way of showing us how hard it is to be God."
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