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Travelling

Today, the princeling and I are going on a trip, in our favorite rocket ship…. it’s time for us to go out and about. On our own. Well, sort of. We’re going to go visit family, but twill just be he and I in the car.

My son can’t remember the times we used to go travelling on our own. Admittedly, it’s only been twice, but still. My child thinks his mommy can’t travel on her own. Which if you knew my travel history is hilarious.

I love travelling with Linda. She’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had. Somewhere along the way, I’ve allowed myself to rely a bit too much on her. Yes, there are situations where I am uncomfortable. But something she said to me on the firstish trip (she ended up meeting me and a friend and ray in monterey) has been ringing in my head. “Why did you bring Her? You’re fine, you don’t need help with the princeling. You’re a good mom and you’ve got it handled”. 

And then I promptly let her handle the travel. Don’t get me wrong, I love travelling with her and T. It’s fun, and we get to talk answer laugh and share heart to heart moments. 

But my son sees me as weak. I write about kick ass women who save themselves and my son sees me as weak. It’s time to write a different story, one that includes travelling with Linda, but also some solo adventures with the princeling. 

It’s al,osteoporosis time for us to cut loose. Stay well my lovelies! 

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Rethinking Disappointment 

Last night I was dissappointed. I went to a meeting and was expecting a guest speaker, who was ill and couldn’t attend. Instead, we had training tables set up, and while I did get some good information… at the time I couldn’t see it.

At one training table, someone was moved right in front of me. She didn’t accidentally get there, she was told and motioned to be there by the people running that training. To top things off, I had a hard time hearing them talk. I got some good info, but it kind of started the pity train rolling.

Another table had the signature scents and a spin the wheel kind of thing. It took me a minute or five to get up there and do it too. It was pretty cool, something I hadn’t done before, and had great ideas for parties. 

Next table was pretty cool. No problems hearing and no activity to jostle about. Learned new things about the part of Partylite I’m most uncomfortable with- sponsoring new people. 

The final table was about dream boards. They’re very simular to an inspiration board for writing. The thing I came away with on that one was a profoundly personal one. And one that’s been haunting me a lot lately. I’ll talk about it later, but it popped into the forefront last night. 

The raffle sacked only because I didn’t win lol. I understand what it’s for thought, and today I can remember that it’s a way to pay for the conference room. If I think of it as pan entrance fee, it doesn’t suck as bad never winning. Although I have won at the local meeting.

I left as soon as it was over. Didn’t stay to chit chat or talk to the 2 new people I had met, or even the ones I already know. That’s on me. By that point, I had let my disappointment overwhelm me.

It’s a long drive home from the meeting, and I was so tired… I’d been gone from home sine 6:15am. I made it home at 9:30pm. I didn’t start bawling until I hit the old country road. I pushed my favorite button and dialed someone I normally call to cheer up. 

I’m so glad I did.

She turned my pity party around. Made me see again the pride I felt when my 11 year old manned up to take care of poppa- cooking dinner for them because I was gone. He didn’t end up doing it, but he was wiĺung. And he figured out dinner. When I got home he was WRITING, FOR FUN!!!!!!! He’s plotting out an RPG steam punk game. He’d started his homework, but needed help, and I gave him what he needed, and he finished no complaints.

And the fact is, last night was a win. I did learn things, even if they weren’t what I went for. And I could have made some amazing new friends, but I stopped that from happening. I need to do better next time.

And maybe text someone and make sure the guest is showing up.

Have you attended an event and been dissappointed? We’re you able to turn it around?
 

I’m good at what I do

I have a day job. It’s not an industry that I ever thought I’d get into, but I like it. I’m good at what I do– sales with a lot of customer service. I talk on the phone all day, and I connect with people.

Yes. I connect with people. Which is something I enjoy doing.

And I’m very good at it.

That’s not to say that I’m the best, the highest performing or what ever. But I like my customers, and care about them. Not just what they need. I know that it comes through in the way I deal with them.

I have customers dealing with cancer, and it breaks my heart. I have one who just had a new baby and she is the cutest thing ever. Others I chit chat with, catch up on the news about both our kids, and enjoy talking and working with them. I’m good at it— in a weird way it’s being a friend. I’ve never met them, but I care about them. And it has little to do with money.

I’m really good at what I do. Not everyone can appreciate it, or accept it. My last boss didn’t. My current boss does. Which is wonderful, because even if I started writing and selling full time, I don’t think I could just stay at home and write. I’m not that type of writer.

I’m not that type of worker either. I started out working at home– and while there were parts that I loved, for the most part it just isn’t for me. I enjoy the hustle of the office: phones ringing, orders going in and out. Interaction with my co-workers and customers.

I really like what I do during the day. If you have a day job, I hope you’re blessed with a great job too.

 

Mentorship

Most writers are great about paying it forward. We gather together, read each others work, give tips and tricks and help when we can. We give (hopefully) each other presents at the same time— a darn good read. I have worked with some really great authors who have both helped me, and whom I’ve been able to help just a wee bit.

There have also been those other ones, and you know who they are. They’re the ones the rest of us slide away from, regardless of their success.

This week I’ve been thinking a lot about mentorship. The Partylite group has a great set up for new consultants. And I’ve been to 2 meetings since signing up a little more than a week ago. It’s great to have someone there to walk you through it, to show you what’s going on and darn it, it’s WONDERFUL to have others literally cheer and clap for you.

It’s pretty awesome.

So is being able to watch someone who has rose high in the ranks as she led part of a party. You can’t pay for that kind of mentorship, and quite frankly I’m feeling kind of blessed to have landed where I have.

But it’s made me think hard. Wouldn’t it be great if we could pop into other author’s heads and see just how they tweaked that little sentence so it rang throughout the text? We already do so much mentoring within our ranks, but it isn’t organized. We can find Webinars, either by digging through YouTube, or Facebook videos, or ending up paying for them…

There’s also the perks. The adds to your kit. Can you imagine what they’d be for a Writer? Sold your Story? Here’s an add…. well, I can’t even imagine what that add would be. Can You?

What would you have as a writers perk?

 

Stupid is as stupid does

When did people get so STUPID? I’m talking specifically about 1 thing, but my gosh it goes across everything.

Parking lot safety. I was taught as a child to wait if a car was backing up. I taught my son the same. He’s 10 going on 11. Are people so self involved that they really think there’s a magic bubble around them to keep them SAFE?

I’ve had women with infants push that baby right behind my car as I was backing out. Whole families, kids holding hands with the adults stroll out of the stores and walk blithely unaware behind cars moving backwards. 

One of them made my son so mad, he rolled down the window and yelled at the woman “my momma would whoop my a** for that!” Cussing aside, he wasn’t wrong.

Are people so used to looking down at their phones that they no longer know how to read real life? Or are they so self involved that they can’t fathom what a blind spot is and the fact that they just walked through it? 

Look twice before crossing. Parking lot or street. Whether your 1, 10, or 100 or any where between…. it goes for you. 

Drowning

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I go to the river often to center myself. It works amazingly well when I can’t make it to the ocean. Recently, I was going through some stuff. I hit a rough patch, and was trying to find my way out. I sat on a bench and prayed: Please God, show me the path you want me to be on, help me get on it. Show me the way.

The water was running rapidly in the distance. Maybe not white water rafting rough, but rough enough. The river is higher than I’ve ever seen it, thanks to the wet winter we finally had.

And here I am praying. Not knowing what to do. Light starts burning through my eyelids and I opened my eyes…. to see the picture above. My first thought was “Not that path, Lord, I can’t swim.”

No, I did not get into the water. I was too scared. And pretty sure that wasn’t my path. In the morning, I was telling the story to Dad, thinking it was just a cute story. He had another answer. “It’s not the water, Wyndie, it’s the light. You’re meant to bring the light to people.”

I wasn’t expecting that. Especially since it makes so much sense. When I write my cards, I call it “sending out my ray’s of sunshine.” People seem to like them as much as I enjoy sending them out.

But the whole situation made me start to wonder: how many times have I felt like I was drowning, with no help in sight…. only to learn later it had been there all along? Sometimes its a matter of interpretation, sometimes we just need a little time.

It was comforting to sit on the river’s edge and talk to God. Even when I thought his answer was something I wasn’t sure I could do. Just sitting and talking with Him helped me sort myself out.

Keep on keeping on, my lovelies.

I’m trying to be back on a more consistent basis. We shall see how it goes 🙂

 

Thank you Terrible Minds

Had a great date night with the boy child, and I owe it to Chuck Wendig.
I get notifications in my email on blog posts by the author, Chuck Wendig. I love his blog, it’s funny, real and NSFW. Yesterday, he posted a flash fiction challenge ( which he does most Fridays) and you can find it here

 When we went in to Strings (one of our favorites…. yummy pasta), I brought in a tablet of paper. We sat down, and for the past month or so, the princeling has been playing on his phone while we eat. This is not ok.

The boy child loves many things, and storytelling is one of them. In the flash fiction challenge mentioned above, you have to create your own monster. Not a rehash of a goblin, orc  or nessie. Your own monster. 

Thursday night, the princeling asked me why I never write his story ideas. I don’t have the heart to tell him that mommy’s writing is not built that way. I’m not a Tolkien, Martin or Hobbs that can weave large complex stories with ease. I’m light and fluffy with a sometimes dark turn, and I’m OK with that.

We sat down, and I handed the book to him. “There’s a writing challenge and we’re going to do it together.”

His little eyes lit up. When I told him about the challenge, he looked at me and said in a very soft voice… “Goblins?”  

“No, it can’t be anything ever written about before. Not in movies, in books or video games. Completely new.”

He grinned at me and said “oh, that’s easy”. 

As he drew and told me about his monster… I got chills. No lie. Some of his descriptions were chillingly beautiful. We discussed the monster over pasta, then went into what’s in the closet that scares him. It’s doll and stuffed animal eyes.

I was thinking we would do a light, kid friendly minster under the bed kind of story. Instead, my son took my hand and led me into the shadows. I can do dark and twisty with beauty intermixed. I can’t live there for a novel, but I can visit.

I’ll have our story posted here before Fridays deadline.

And thank you, Chuck Wendig, for a great night out with the boy child.