First Rejection & Snow

Of the year. And it’s fine, it’s part of the process. It’s fine. I read somewhere once that being rejected just means your story has not found a home yet.

What hurts is that in the midst of the s**t show of the last few years, I lost both my physical log and the computer log of where I had submitted which stories.

In the rejection letter they were absolutely both extremely professional and kind. Especially since I had apparently submitted that story to them in 2021.

Sigh.

So many emotions are swirling in me right now. A morass. Not because of the rejection of the story. It will find its home.

And it hit hard because I’m trying to find my footing in my new home. Most of that is working through the mental state that I arrived in. My home is still in disarray, and when I lay in bed and close my eyes I see my old room. My old life.

Friday night & Saturday morning we experienced our first snowfall that stuck. My son still calls California home. Sunday we went to lunch with my niece & her family, and I borrowed a shirt for a wedding next weekend. Wednesday I put my kid on a plane to our old home to visit– and I’m hoping he gets on the plane back 12 days later. I’m hoping he doesn’t get into trouble.

I’m also looking forward to time without him. Time to make a freaking mess of the house so I can put it together the way I want to.

My words are messy, but they are coming out. I’ve got 2 stories I’m working on because well, messy. I wrote a poem.

I talk to my bestie on the phone everyday. She’s still in Cali, and is my backup with the almost adult boy I’m sending out there. I miss her. I have family here but haven’t made friends yet. I also don’t really go anywhere– haven’t even been to the library yet. I do recognize the cashier at the Dollar General, but I’m sure I’m just another face in the day to her.

Well. This has gotten a lot more personal than I thought it would. Hope you don’t mind. My brain doesn’t feel as messy.

Until next time, my lovelies!

Hey you

Hey you. Yes, you. I see you there. I know you’re scared, and I don’t want to tell you not to be afraid…

And yet…

Here I am. Telling you it’s OK to be scared, but you still have to go on. Maybe it’s something you’ve wanted for a long time, something positive even, but it’s such a huge change that you’re scared to death. 

It’s OK. Let’s breath through it. We will make it to the other side, and you might even wonder after all is said and done why you were so scared. You might even feel a bit silly, but that’s OK too. I’ve been there.  You’ve been there too, so remember to just breath. And maybe giggle a little. 

It releases tension.

Truly. 

And even if it’s not ok, I’ll sit with you on the darkest night and light a candle for you. Call me and I’ll just breath on the other end letting you know I’m there. Maybe it won’t be ok again today, or tomorrow….

But things will be ok again. And after they’re ok again, you’ll be able to search for the good days. The awesome days. 

You’re not quite ready to believe in them, but they’re out there. So I will hold the dream for the both of us.

Do you ever…. #sketchorama

Do you ever have a project that you’re scared to start? I do. I am.

I signed up for Sketchorama with The New Bohemian Gallery.

I am not an artist.

I am a writer. Who is sometimes inspired by her photographs.

And who got a crazy idea to join in with all the other artists.

The writing is easy. Much of it is done. But do I hand write it? Or print it out and glue it in? That seems like cheating… but I will have to figure out a way to get the photos in the book (I’ve been thinking of trying a clear, matte sticker/label). I feel like I should use my handwriting, as it’s more personal… byt will anyone be able to read it?

I’m doing something outside my comfort level. Much of the writing is done, it just needs to be put into the sketchbook.If only…. If only I could draw. BUt then I’d be an artist of a different stripe.

And yes, I asked first if written words would be ok.

It is.

And still… still I’m frozen. I’ve written the opening page– and I love it. I’ve hand written it in a card and sent it to my Aunt who is magnificently artistically talented . (Hi Aunt Mary!) But actually putting it into the sketchbook? Ummm…

What if I make a mistake?

My sister, another magical artist, says just to do it. That sketch books are meant to be personal. And still I freeze.

But that’s ok. I have a secret weapon— Regina is coming down on the holiday weekend. And I know that if she reads this, before she leaves to go back home that first opening page will be written in the book before she leaves. And as much is already written (going with the theme of water: ocean, river, bay, etc) and some will come new…

But I bet it will have that first page, handwritten, before she leaves.

 

Year of living dangerous/ Year of stupidity

So many things happened this week. One of which was I watched part of Shonda Rhime’s Ted talk about her year of saying yes. And I thought about that a lot. About saying yes to things, conquering my fear and doing things anyways.

My sister, niece & her family were here for a week. They went to Santa Cruz (my happy place!), San Francisco (I haven’t been in sooo long!). And I worked. The green eyed monster reared its ugly head. Which led me to some ugly truths.

I don’t do what I want to because at some point my fear outweighed my desire. I became paralyzed by it. I didn’t work on Thursday, and I did mostly the things I wanted to do as it was my birthday. I turned 48.

Friday, I went to pick up Ray from my brother’s house. My sister and her family were over there and she had shaved the back of her head and done a few blue streaks. My sister, who is a SENIOR CITIZEN, has been having courage all over the place. She just decided to go back to college. She shaved the back of her head and got blue streaks. She’s AMAZING.

I long for my amaze-ball self to come shining through again, too.

I don’t know if it was all things leading up to the moment, or if I was just so sleep deprived from trying to stay up and visit and still being on my regular schedule. But I had my niece L (my brother’’s daughter) shave the back of my head and give me a reverse bob. She keeps calling it some anime cut, but I just call it hot flash heaven! I was going to finish getting the tips pink, but it hasn’t happened yet because Easter.

Then yesterday, Saturday, I did a few things. Scheduled a trip to Stanford’s Pow Wow in May. Because its something I want to do and it is doable.     Came home, took a nap. Napped some more. Went to go pick up a few things and get gas.

Drove away from the pump with the nozzle still in the car.

Just so you know, apparently it happens more than you might think. They had a little form to fill out, along with costs broken out. It can be anywhere from $13 plus tax to $400.

HOLY CRAPOLA

Suddenly, it no longer felt like being fearless, conquering my fear. Suddenly, it felt like I made one bad decision after another. Exhaustion? Perhaps. Mid Life crisis gone wrong? I felt horrible, humiliated. Too old for this crap.

So I did the only thing I could. I came home and called the friend who would make me laugh about it. I think she may have wet her pants she laughed so hard. But she got me to laugh too.

And suddenly it’s just a scene in the life of. Not the plot, not a plot twist. Just a scene. I can work around that. It doesn’t have to turn my year of living dangerously into the year of stupid mistakes.

I just got the first one out of the way really really quick.

Thomas Russell Trio

So a while back ago, I told you about not being able compete with my writing, and how it made me feel so horribly.  You can find that post over here. In it, I spoke a little bit about how some friends and I were starting a Facebook writer’s group, and I was going to try out for the paper and all sorts of fun stuff.

Well. Time for a little update.

I emailed some stuff to the Stockton Record, but still have heard nothing back yet. That’s ok. It would be great to get on board there, but there are tons of local magazines, websites and frankly other newspapers to submit to. The trick is going to be finding the ones that pay LOL.

The writing group, consisting of the Thomas Russell Trio, has been fantastic for me. Not only have they given me the courage to send the email above, but I am writing. I am writing a lot. They aren’t huge, long articles or anything. They are ranging between 300-500 words and that’s ok. I’m finding my voice in the nonfiction world. I posted a total of 3 last week, and am working on my second one for this week.

Turns out, it’s a lot easier for my twisted sense of humor and strange way of looking at things to be self evident in non fiction. I’m really enjoying writing without the buffer that fiction gives me. The deadline gives me something to shoot for, and I’m hitting on target regularly.

These girls saved my sanity in a lot of ways. Expressing how thankful you are should be easy for a writer, so here goes…

I hope your soul feels dappled by sunlight

I hope you get to have interesting conversations with a child.

I wish for you a million words, all bringing you joy.

Celebrate the Good Times

So I woke up this morning, checked my Facebook on my anroid (my, i’m getting fancy in my old age), and saw a post from one of my very best friends about… Dragon’s Champion. She said she had bought it and read it (it is a short story after all) and loved it. She was proud of me.

It made my whole day, Trishka Rose. I saw that, and the smile never quite left my heart.

Of course when you are our age, and someone has known you since you both were five years old? They are kind of required to say nice things 🙂 But knowing that she cared enough, from half way around the world, to support me— well. That is something to celebrate.

There are other celebrations, too. People who have supported me on my quest. Friends who lifted me up and dragged me out of the bad place. Because they know, with out a shadow of a doubt, that the actual bad place? Easy to leave. Not so easy to leave behind the dark, bad place of your soul. But they dragged me, kicking and screaming, and tripping and falling, back into the land of the living and happiness.

Above all else, I need to remember that when I’m writing, I’m happy. Ray asked me, while I was writing the story, why I was so happy all the time.

Wow. Out of the mouth’s of babes.

But right now, I want to celebrate a few people: Trisha Williams, Regina Clements, Linda Deaver, Rie Sheridan Rose, Leyla Shelton, Judy Hunt. You all have believed in me and helped me through it. Thank you. This Sweet Tea Salute is for you!

 

Now, for another type of celebration. Yesterday, I talked a tiny bit about my in laws celebrating their 50th anniversary. I wanted to share with you what 50 years of marriage looks like. Take a good look, it’s a rare sight— and completely lovely.