New Years Goals: 2013

So it’s a new year again, this time with my luck number~ 13. I haven’t done any “resolutions” for a very long time, I’ve mostly skipped on that portion of celebrating the new year.

This year is different.

What’s different about it? Well, I’m getting my voice back (writing wise) and feeling more capabale in general. More able to take on risks. Sooo… without further ado, I give you:

RESOLUTIONS 2013

1. Write a novel. This one’s a no brainer, and it’s one that has been chasing around in the back of my mind for a while. I think it needs to perk a little bit more, but that’s ok. I’m a quick writer.

2. Write my Bon Jovi Rock Opera. Actually, it’s either more of a one woman play or something with a narrator that does all the talking, except for the songs. This one has already started to tingle my fingers, which writers will understand. I drove to work on Friday screaming ‘ MY FINGERS ARE ITCHING, MY FINGERS ARE ITCHING!!!” I hate to think what the person next to me thought, but you know… Itchy fingers for a writer are a good thing.

3. Get passports for my sonand I. I don’t know how easy or hard this will be. I don’t talk about it much, but I have full physical and legal custody of my son, so you would think it would be easy. However, the ex is still alive, if not in the picture right now. So we shall see. But this leads into wanting to be able to travel to Europe with Ray in 2014.

A girl’s gotta have some goals, right?

4. Accept how I look. Not to say that i don’t want to loose weight, or what ever. But I hate getting my picture taken. HATE IT. If you’ve friended me on facebook, you know I RARELY post pictures of me. But what does that do to my son? When he’s older, is he going to care whether or not i was overweight? Or will he care more that he has no pics of his mom, and none of us together? Yah. I got over myself real quick with that one. I posted 2 or 3 pics with me in them to Facebook last night, as a matter of fact. So progress!

5. Be Joyous!! Let the boogie out!!!

6. Pray every day for the women of the world. It’s easy to forget here in the US, where we have an expectation of safety to a certain degree (and yes, mostly, but there are always exceptions)… But in other parts of the world young girls are being beaten, shot, killed for daring to want an education. In other parts of the world, young women can be out with an escort and get beaten and raped,… and ultimately killed. This last case polarized the country, and hopefully will bring about change in India. I’m still gonna pray for them. just my thing.

7. Figure out how to write a montage scene in fiction with 2 characters who are geographically far apart. I think i’ve figured it out, but will see.

8. And this one hurts. Even more than number four. Write more, read less. I can’t write if my head is always in someone elses world. I just can’t. I know some of you are here because I started reviewing books.,.. and i’ll still do that to a certain degree. But writing book reviews brought me back to *my* writing…. And I need to do this. For me, for my son.  (BTW– i do have a very interesting book review for next week. HA!)

Anyways, that’s the list as of right now. 8 tiny little goals. Right? Not too ambitious, right?

 

Yah, that’s what I thought!

The Finish Line

The Finish Line

 

Well, I made it across the finish line and there was much dancing of the happy sort. I finally, finally finished something.

I have a short story with a beginning, a middle and an end. It has a heroine, a villain and a supporting cast.

It also, strangely enough, has a lot of alliteration. It’s funnier than I normally write, and her mouth gets her in trouble every once in a while, but it was fun. I looked forward to writing the next day. I got it all written down and crossed the finish line.

I’ve reclaimed my writing self.

YAY!

Now I just need to take that momentum and carry it over into the next one and the next and… WHOA. One story at a time. That’s all we have to do. Tell one story at a time.

 

In other news—I made a trip to the bookstore and picked up some reading material. I just finished Jane Bites Back and will be reviewing it soon.  Probably by Thursday. I rewarded myself for finishing with a small(ish) bag of books. But I need to keep it in perspective.

I can read other people’s dream constantly  or forge my own.

Not really a hard choice there.

Cleaning House

So yesterday was a hard labor kind of day. I had help (thank you, Leyla!) and it went more quickly and more… enjoyable than if I had been by myself. It also helped me with my creative muddle.

Have you ever had one of those? Where your brain is so cluttered up with this and that and soon you can’t remember even how to start writing again (alternately: insert creative obsession here). I started the reclaiming the garage project earlier in the week, all by myself. And little by little, things started getting stripped away.

Like the need to hold on to stuff just because it’s mine. Mine I say! I might need that craptastic pan, even though the teflon is peeling up off the bottom. Coffee mugs that I never used because they were too heavy (my grip gives, so a heavy cup to begin with is a bad idea) might come in handy some day.

Mostly, I was holding on to all that stuff because it is what remained after being married to a meth addict for 10 years. I got out alive, with my son, mostly intact. I packed whatever I could into the back of my dad’s car and left. Totally willing to leave everything behind (the pots and pans and some of the other stuff came back to me in a somewhat different way). It left me  with a fierce need to keep EVERYTHING. Because, you know, things dissappear when you live with a drug addict.

But this isn’t about that. Not at the core.

It’s about cleaning up my life, both metaphorically and literally. Because as those boxes were opened and gone through, as the books hit the shelves (voracious reader, remember, there were a LOT of them). I haven’t written, except in bits and spurts, since before my son was born. Because I couldn’t… I had to hide what was going on in my life, in little boxes around my soul.

When you write, you bare your soul.

Letting go of all that stuff, well, it was more than letting go of all that stuff. I actually had a great idea for a short story. And for 3 or 4 essays/non fiction pieces. We’ll see where they go, but the important thing is I’m thinking.. dreaming, again.

All I know is that coming out on the otherside? It’s marvelous!

Writing

A few weeks ago, I was coming out of a local Togo’s and a kid stopped me and asked if I wanted to buy a CD, only 4 dollars. At first I thought it was boot legged… but no. It was his music, his beats. He believed so much in his music that he was out in that strip mall trying to get people to listen to his music. I gave him $4, and tried to walk away WITHOUT the CD.

Here, he called, you paid for it.

What kind of music is it? I asked.

“Rap, some R&B. ” You’ll like it.”

Not really kid, but thanks for trying.The whole thing was well worth the four dollars to get the lesson in self promotion. Or maybe self confidence. Here he was, seeking his audience, the only way available to him.

Very cool. I was jealous.

Writers don’t do that, I thought.

Then came the article on the internet. About the guy in San Fransisco, who started some really great magazine, retired, and is now going about the city and reading from his work (pertinent to where he is at the moment). Finding new audiences, sharing his world, his talent to whomever cares to listen. And they do! They listen! Otherwise, it would be a story about the old demented writer who went off his rocker.

I know poets go out and perform in public. Once in a while, writers will read from their work at a book signing. These guys took it to a different level, though. The whole thing got me thinking: what kind of confidence does that sort of radical self promotion take? Because they are absolutely sure that who ever is listening is going to love their work. That’s the only reason I can think of for it.

I want it so badly I can taste it. Even though I have no idea where I would go do my radical self promotion… by a lake? At a zoo? Perhaps a talent night at a local cafe, I can read something.

Or not.

Cuz I’m a scardey cat. Gonna take some time to get over that LOL. I can make it one of my New Year’s Resolutions for 2012. Do one public reading of an original work.

Hmmm….

Julie and Julia: The Word Project

So I finally watched the movie Julie & Julia last night. Loved it. Made my heart just a wee bit happier for rooting for Julie. And Julia. But it made me start thinking…

Which, as we all know,  can be a dangerous thing with me. Heh.

Lately my brain has been spinning, trying to find a way to climb out of the pit of nastiness & depression that can try and seep in and steal the joy. One of the ways that I’ve been trying to do that is to petition GM, Joel Ewanick to be exact, for a new car. Or a job where I can afford a new car.

To that end, I’ve been sending him a marketing plan about one a week or every two weeks maybe. I’ve only sent in two so far. The first one, well, it was good but Kia beat poor GM to the punch. The second one rocks. Really.

So I have all these ideas for marketing a brand that it seems like everyone has given up on.A guy in Australia was telling me he thought Chevrolet had gone out of business. Seriously. I’ve been emailing Mr. Ewanick, but apparently he doesn’t like the ideas. So should I just give up?

C’MON. It wouldn’t be the American Dream if Washington had just given up.

Besides, quitting will just get me what I’ve always gotten. Lets face it, what I’ve got isn’t enough. If it was, I wouldn’t be using titles like “American Dream vs. American Nightmare.”

What’s new? Well, lets see… Apparently my creative spark is leaning towards marketing right now. Which would be great, if I knew how to extrapolate money from those ideas. I have the beginnings… I’ve been trying. So now I’m going to take the next step.

I’m going to start posting my ideas. And here is where my quandary lies. I’ve written a wide range of things on this blog, but it’s been intensely personal. Should I keep just the one blog, or go ahead and create a whole new one for just this?

Of course, the name of the blog is Wyn Words. MY WORDS. All of my words… Or only some of them? I’m currently leaning towards all of my words, get the full experience J  I rarely, if ever, post anything that I’m ashamed of or wouldn’t want someone in particular to read.

What do you think? I’ll post my first letter to Mr. Ewanick shortly, either here or somewhere else. Because someone, somewhere, is going to read my words and think “Hot Dawg! Lets get this girl writing for us!”

My Big Boy

It came to my attention, once again, just how far Ray has come.  There was a guest at church today, once that hasn’t seen Ray in about a year. We were talking about his speech, and the fact that he tested really well at school last year academically.

Ok. You have to remember that at one point, I was told to expect moderate retardation at best in his testing. Most probably combined with autism. (Neither of which is his particular problem).

So. The fact that he can feed himself, make his opinions known verbally and is a social creature is really quite remarkable to some people.

We, however, always new better. If not, go see the post titled MY KID’S NOT AUTISTIC.

Anyhoo— We deal with Ray everyday. So we still see that he falls off his feet (Kerplop!), has a few motorskills problems, but is overall a bright boy. We forget sometimes, exactly how much he has learned in the past year. How much his learning has accelerated. Colors, numbers, counting, shapes, name recognition (written)…

He learned a lot in the past year and I am so proud of him! We still have things we need to work on, but overall… He’s the smart boy I always knew was residing inside his head. He just couldn’t let people know before.

Autistic my fanny!

Working Poor– Kid Tip #1 (The Happy Meal Switcheroo)

When Ray and I lived with my dad, I got us into a really bad habit. We’d stop at Sonic on the way home (a half hour drive) for french fries, drinks, and a toy for Ray. When I realized how much I was spending (about $70.00 a paycheck on NOTHING), I freaked out.

OMG! What am I doing? OF COURSE IT”S QUICK AND EASY. Of course it made Ray happy!

But it wasn’t what he needed. Or I needed. I needed my money. To save up to move out. Sonic should be a treat, not a thing where the drive through lady knows us by sight. (“oops, no ketchup.”)

Bur I had spoiled him. I had done this, not Ray. And I really, really DID NOT WANT A HALF HOUR CAR RIDE OF SCREAMING. Gives me heebee-jeebies just thinking about it.

So. What’s a mom to do?

Think outside the box. Or, really, back inside it.

I took an old lunch box of Ray’s, and filled it wit 2 juice boxes ($2.00 for 10, or… well heck, you do the math). A snack for the ride home (chips, grapes, popcorn, fruit snacks, what ever was on hand) which again was really cheap.

I then took a bunch of his “small” toys. Anything that wasn’t in constant play was up for Mommy grabs. And I stole them. Yes, I did. I took them, put them in a bag, and hid them. One a day would come out, be played with and then recycled back into the bag.

Home made “Happy Meal” that led to Happy Rides home. WOOHOO!

BUT— BUT!

We still have happy meals. We make them at home )$3.98 for a bag full of chicken nuggets, $2.00 for bbq sauce, and mandrin oranges, grapes, whatever we have handy. MEGA CHEAP.

Now. Don’t think I’m heartless. If Ray is really good during the week, he gets a real live McDonald’s Happy Meal. $5.00 per week, $10.00 per pay period.

So.

Be HAPPY! Get Creative! Think outside (or inside if need be) the box. Just because we’ve spoiled our kids doesn’t mean that we have to let them stay that way. And it can be done with out parental pain. Maybe not all the time, but a good portion of the time.

The rest of the time, I’m sorry to say, you’ll wish your ears could bleed and you could just get it over with.

Got any tips? SHARE WITH ME!

Lets make those pennies cry cold copper tears! Yah Baby!

Writing for hope

So I sent off the email yesterday morning. If I don’t get a response soon, I may just post it here and see what we see. But there are 2 things that are really resonating with me right now…

Instead of thinking about what I’d normally do, I have assigned myself the persona of one of my favorite characters when it comes to my writing: Alex. She kicks butt and never asks questions about it, does what needs to be done, and at the end of the day loves her family and has compassion for her fellow travellers. It really sucks though, that I have to PRETEND confidence in my writing.  But, it is what it is, and as long as it gets me to push the SEND button on my email it’ll do. Who knows, maybe I’ll start sending in the other ideas too… It’s an idea, not sure it’s a good one, but it is an idea.

In researching, revising, rough drafting that email, I have come up with several other ideas. Writing begets writing. Hopefully, someday QUICKLY something will stick with someone.

Because I need hope. I need to get out of the muck I’m stuck in. I need some hope, a little flicker at the end of the tunnel. I need a lot of things, but I need to live my dreams and escape back into my real life… The one that I used to have where every day was an adventure and I my very own soundtrack.

Yah. Rock n Roll Princess meets kick butt Alex. That’s who I want to be when I grow up.

Changes

Changes, they are a coming. And I’m not sure how I feel about them.

The first is obvious. My little Baby Ray is no longer a baby. He is all boy. He is growing by leaps and bounds. I’m so proud of him– his speech has come a long way from this time last year. He has come a long way from this time last year. He’s a smart boy, too, and has a bit of the imp in him.

Then there’s the change in how I feel about where I’m living. I still feel safe-ish. But not completely safe. I suppose that’s normal, but it’s still an awefully big change for me. I’ve felt safe everywhere I’ve lived except for 1 place.

Work is, well, it’s work. I have a job and am very grateful for that. THat it happens to be one that I enjoy for the most part, and that I’m good at is a super big bonus. But things there are going to change too, it’s the nature of the beast.

ANd my writing. Wow. Has it changed. My habits with writing need to change, too, though. I need to write more consistently, instead of waiting on the muse. I know this, I’ve gone through this before. Yet it’s a lesson that I need to re-learn over and over. What will it take to get it pounded into my head?

And my marriage. IT’s changing too. Evolving somewhat. We spend more time together, as a family unit. Which is ALL GOOD, don’t get me wrong. BUt sometimes I wonder at our roles, and why we have the ones we have, and and and and….

Changes are coming all around. SOme will be good, some bad. But the only thing certain about life is that if you’re doing it right, SOMETHING is BOUND TO CHANGE.

Just gotta re-gain my optimism for the day 🙂

Stories & Itty Bitty White Lies

So we’ve all been sick lately. Ray had Strep Throat, which made for a terrible weekend for him. High fevers, trouble swallowing… the whole she-bang. I’d been having problems with my ear, and feared I had given this terrible sickness to him but I didn’t have time to go to the doctors myself. Brian did, and discovered that he had the beginnings of Strep as well. (I finally made it to the doctor’s yesterday… By God’s grace no strep– ear infection with fluid build-up was my diagnosis).

SO. Most people who know me know that I have a general rule that I don’t lie. It bites you in the butt, makes it very hard to keep things straight, and quite frankly it’s not worth the loss of trust. I write fiction, tell stories… But as a general rule, no lying.

The story-telling comes naturally. I talked with Dad this morning, and told him about my ear and he told me a lovely story of why fluid build-up in my ears hurts like the dickens. Apparently, there is a ship in my ear, and when I shake it it causes waves. The masts rise and fall, nicking the top of my ear canal. And those poor mates trying to swab the decks are forced to run after loose cannons– every once in a while one will get away and explode– which causes the exploding pain only once in a while.  Very clearly a story, although it’s one I really really like! (I may steal it from you Dad, and make a children’s story about it!)

Yesterday was a long day for me. Went to work, hustled and bustled. Had to leave a bit early, because Auntie Gacca’s doctor office asked for her to come in early. Since she had watched Ray while he was still contagious for me– no brainer. But I hadn’t eaten except a couple of bites all day long. So. Took her to her doctor’s office, took her back home to a neighboring town, and went to see my doctor. AN HOUR AND A HALF WAIT. But, I got what I needed and it was now 7:30pm. I had a long drive home, had to take Gacca home still, and, well… I was hungry. So we hit the drive through.

Now, here comes the itty bitty white lie. When I got home, I told Brian that no, I didn’t eat at McD’s. I only got a sweet tea. Heh. AND OF COURSE I GOT CAUGHT IN THE LIE WHICH IS WHY I NORMALLY DON’T LIE!  Apparently, I dropped a couple of french fries while driving. SIGH.

SO. Why even bother? I’ll tell you. I only really do this with Brian. Why? Because it’s easier than dealing with the guilt trip or anger or pouting. I can take the consequences with everyone else, up to and including my bosses.  The truth is, lately, I don’t know what’s going on with him. There are some things that he’s dealing with, and it seems to make him upset all the time and of course the person who gets the brunt of it is me. Why? Because I stay. I won’t leave, or tell him he’s a bad person because he’s having a bad day.

Yesterday, he barely talked to me before work. Even though we shared a car ride to his work. I was in the bath-room a lot, and he didn’t ask why (violently sick, although I still made it to work, which is why I didn’t take anything substantial for lunch). I’m guessing he assumed I was in there, smoking, avoiding taking care of my responsibilities.

I wish, sometimes, that he could see the world through my eyes. That he could see the beauty and the joy and just let the other stuff fall away for a while. YES, I know that things are bad. I know that money is tight, and that yesterday was a horrible day at work and we have even more horrible things to come. But on the way home to pick up Gacca for her doctor’s appointment I saw the most beautiful sight. God had hung one of his paintings in the sky for me and I composed a (very bad) poem to him which I kept saying louder and louder about Belief.

Many people don’t get this about me. I am outwardly a very optimistic, rose colored glasses kind of girl. I know that things are bad right now. I KNOW that they might get worse and it breaks my heart. But I also believe deep down inside that there is a plan for us. There is beauty and joy even in the darkest times of life. Yes, it is hard. But someone has to be the cheer-leader. Someone has to try and make a happy home.

So what if that home has a little dust or a dirty dish or two? I never let the dishes over-flow (I can’t, no dishwasher and no counter space and a two year old with a five year old’s reach).  Complete filth does bother me, but a little dust, a little mess… not so much. Yes, I tend to nest. But that’s the way I am…. I love people for who they are.

Love me the same way.

Please.