Energized by productivity

It's amazing how energized I feel when I get some writing done.

With all the demands on my time, I often feel as if I have to "steal" writing time. Part of me thinks that's a mommy-guilt stereotype, but there is always an element of truth to stereotypes. I am definitely not a stereotypical wife, mom, sister, friend, daughter, etc. so I can't imagine I'd follow any stereotypes. Still, one can't ignore the element of truth: my family is my first priority. I can't just pretend they don't exist, and usually, I don't need to. We coexist peaceably, the wife and mommy and writer and me.

However, something about this past summer's emotional turmoil made it hard for me to assume my writerly role full time, or even part time. My writerly self barely existed. So here I was, ready to get back to the novel, and my life had revolved around everyone else and all the things that needed to be done for 3 months. Getting my writing time back was not easy. I had to physically remove myself from my family in order to get anything done. I had to put my foot down and make it known that I WAS WRITING!

Let's hope the transition is complete and I don't have to do that again. Although, I must admit, it was fun to go sit in the B&N Cafe, sip a mocha, and do nothing but write. I could get used to that....

Goodbyes

It was bound to happen. The events of the last 5 months caught up with me and I could not figure out what to say on my blog.

I still don't know what to say. I guess I'll free-write and see what happens.

My mother Sarah died on July 14th. I flew to Mexico on the 15th. After spending the first night tossing back tequila shots in Mom's honor and waking up with a brutal headache at 4:30 in the morning, my sisters and I spent a week at Mom's house.

Her house was hollow without her there. I experienced my first intense moment of loss.

We boxed, sent, donated, signed, arranged, informed, and planned: all the things we are still in the process of doing for our father's affairs, and, sadly, still going through for my sister's husband. There are so many little things to take care of when someone dies. My brother stopped in now and again (he and his wife stayed at a hotel). We began the process of mourning together. Don't get me wrong: we had some great laughs, my sisters and I, but we all decided we're getting sick of this end-of-life business.

We don't want to be "strong" anymore.

Sisters are a blessing. As I said to a friend of mine in an email, those of us who have sisters know how truly wonderful it is to be able to love someone unconditionally. My sisters and I have had our differences but they've never marred our love for each other and seldom interfered in our relationships. In the past 5 months, we've leaned heavily upon each other. Sisters are there for each other, period.

One of the reasons I haven't posted on my blog is because I've been troubled by someone's very rude behavior during this difficult time in my life, behavior that was hurtful. Over the last week, I've asked myself many times what I should do about this person and I keep arriving at the same conclusion: let it go and move on. I don't need negativity in my life. I'm sad to see the relationship dissolve, but one thing I've learned is that my contentment is not dependent upon the actions of others; it lies within me.

With the negativity behind me, and the grieving resumed, I was finally able to get in a good chunk of writing time today.

New faces, lots of love

February is over and I'm rather happy to see it go. 'Nuff with the sadness. March has been very good so far. Alan's memorial made for a wonderful day, one I won't likely forget. The forecast was rain but we had sunshine and fair temps. Lots of love, lots of laughter. And I am blessed with two new arrivals to the family.



First is our new dog, Frederick Von Zack the 27th Junior, otherwise known as Fred E. (Don't ask.) He's a loveable, scruffy, mixed breed 5 year old with good manners and a happy disposition. At times, I find myself thinking of Sadie when he looks at me with all that love and trust. His paw print is already indelibly etched upon all of our hearts.

The second is the birth of my new niece, Berlin Rae, brought into this world by my husband's baby brother and his wife. Berlin is TINY! 6lbs 6oz. We thought she might be born on leap day but she decided to wait until March 3rd. Mom, Dad and baby are all doing well. I'm going to meet Berlin on Tuesday and I can't wait to hold her. Um, and give my brother- and sister-in-law hugs :)





Finally, March has brought the return of Devlin, my muse. Perhaps all he wanted was a name.

Chop-chop!

Remember how in touch I was with my story just weeks ago? And how I took a little time off from writing to get my bearings after putting my dog down? Well, my muse has escaped. I've been looking everywhere for him. The most he does these days is linger in that moment between awake and asleep and whisper sweet plot changes in my ear. (To which of course I quickly stumble to the computer and enter on my manuscript. You ought to see my surprise the next day. I've been feeling a bit like the shoemaker.)

Time to take matters into my own hands and show my story - and my muse - that I mean business.

I've printed off the first third of the manuscript and I'm rearranging the scenes until I find the best way to work in the plot changes. You know, the ones my muse has been whispering in my somnambulent ear. Once I determine how to launch the story properly, I'm off to the middles with my motive, method, and opportunity list. I intend to damage to the reputations of my characters. Sully their names. Cast suspicion upon them.

If you should see my muse, please tell him that while I appreciate the insights, I'd prefer he called upon me during normal business hours.

Tendonitis Frustrations

The tendonitis has been a deterrent to my writing. I have thoughts, ideas, even whole scenes coming to me (with dialogue!) that I can barely scratch out on a pad of paper. I've made cryptic notes in my manuscript file on the computer. Typing left-handed only? Well, that had to stop. My south paw is too slow and I end up getting frustrated and typing with both hands, hence, the continuation of the tendonitis.

Preparing for home renovations hasn't helped much, either.

Tendonitis aside, the story must go on or I'll go crazy. I love my family - my husband and children come first in my life - but even they are aware (perhaps the most aware?) that I must write or lose my sanity. So I have tried everything: writing left-handed (like deciphering a physician's scrawl), left-handed typing (argh!), and even a typing schedule of 15 minutes on/15 minutes off (apparently, 15 minutes rest isn't enough). And slowly, s-l-o-w-l-y, despite the tendonitis, I am making progress on my novel.

But I'm excited about the story and I want to be able to get it all down! This is very frustrating.