I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD SLAPS, SPEED BUMPS and LIGHTBULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.

Monday, December 23, 2013

Out with the old whatever, in with the new what's-up

I want to take a moment to thank a few people who have been so wonderfully supportive this last year. I don’t usually do this sort of thanking-thing at the end of the year, I like to say my piece during the fray of life, smooch and then I’m off. But not this year, not this time.

Without question my family comes first. My daughters are my best barometers and thank God my husband likes to doze on the couch while I write.
I want to thank my first-reader Patty who has a special eye for screw-ups and has bless-ed honesty.
To all of my on-line writer friends and associates, Donna, Jeannine, Tet, Averil, Frank (glad you’re still with us Frank) and the myriad of others who stop by from time to time, or comment elsewhere on some little ditty I may have posted, a hearty thank you. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.
To my co-workers who laugh at my jokes and bring me tear-sheets of my columns, I love you all.
To Janet, a professional voice of reason with just the right amount of bite, thank you in 100 words or less.
To Betsy, I miss your wit and the special community you created...please put the rug back under our feet and if you cannot, I wish you peace and good fortune.
And to my loyal column readers who are clamoring for my collection of essays...I’m working on it, really I am.
To the awesome (word of the young) readers, to the savvy (word of the not so young) readers I am hoping that this coming year will be better than the last for all of us. It’s an edgy world out there, let’s hope we find the right words to sooth, entertain and perhaps provoke respectful dialog.  
Oh one last thing, I cannot close the year out without thanking Ann my wonderful editor. Riding on the backs of all you brilliant people with real writing educations, is a privilege I will not soon forget.
Peace to all.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Hunky-dory, Dory

Well...it’s been more than two weeks since I posted because I’m in the midst. In the midst of the holiday season obviously but also in the midst of...

Head-slaps, Speed-bumps and Light-bulbs;
one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

I have finally begun the gathering of the articles from my first year as a columnist at Shoreline, to my second year as a columnist at the ‘Times” of The Day. From the hundred or so of the older published pieces from all over, I am picking and choosing the most appropriate preambles and accompaniments to the tunes this old broad has been humming as of late.

I’m excited about the project. I have my intro and many force and fallout bookends for some of the pieces. I love this. I love examining the mindset I had twenty-some-odd years ago and the mind containing the out of control jangling marbles I live with now.

I haven’t decided if I’m going to query the book when it’s compiled or go for the whole e-publishing-self-aggrandizement thing. I have approached a few agents I respect with a proposal (of sorts).  The replies: “...interesting”, “...your platform is not big enough - yet” and “...I love the title but you have no idea how hard this would be to sell.”  Those comments were made over two years ago based on older articles only and prior to becoming a columnist. Now...I reach a hundred-thousand households a week, and on-line the papers I am in get 4M hits a month. 

I have often written, “I am a minnow in a mud puddle.” 
To quote Dory, “Just keep swimming, swimming, just keep swimming.” Thanks Dory I will.
How long are you willing to Australian-crawl until you boat comes in?

Monday, December 2, 2013

'betcha can't eat just one

There is one thing I think writers miss when it comes to the whole “write every day” directive.
For us, or at least for me, writing is like eating. I must eat ‘something’ every single day; I must eat ‘something’ a few times a day. Once in awhile the meals are large and often I graze all day long. I don’t eat the same thing all the time; I mean really, I don't gorge, it’s not Thanksgiving dinner 365. But my breakfasts and lunches are almost always the same meal. I count points, it’s easier that way.
It’s the same with writing. I count words, it’s easier that way.

You don’t have to turn out a chapter a day on your great American novel, not even one page or one word. What is important is that you feed the writing soul, the scribbling virus, the scrolling monster that inhabits you. Write something, anything, just to keep the obsession fed.

I have to write my column because my contract requires me to meet deadline; (daily caloric intake). I have to write blog posts and comments; (snacks). It is imperative that I add words to one of my larger projects, the novel, memoir or collective; (dinner). If I don’t eat I wither, if I don’t write I am empty. Being hungry is good, it’s inspiring, being full is uncomfortable; you’ve got to let your belt out, being satisfied is enough.

So eat - write - something every single day.
This post idea started as a one sentence blog comment. Thanks Lyra, once YOU opened the bag I couldn’t stop.