I Want You Back

I realize I'm a bit late to this gathering, but still feel the need to comment on the sudden and devastating loss of Michael Jackson, one of the world's most talented, most creative, most prolific artists. His presence in our lives was a blessing.
I was traveling all day last Thursday. A news hound at heart, I felt a little displaced not being able to check in on CNN or MSNBC as often as I normally do to track the days' events. Imagine my shock when my sister-in-law's husband said late that night, "How 'bout my boy, Michael?"
To say I was stunned upon hearing of his death is beyond putting it mildly. I refused to believe what I'd heard. Since I was born in 1967, Michael Jackson and his family have been a constant presence in my life. I loved the cartoon of The Jackson Five and like so many others I, too, watched that Motown special 26years ago. I was 16 years old and I remember sitting on the family room floor, mesmerized as Michael moonwalked and gyrated all over that stage. Billie Jean is probably my most favorite of his songs. And while I never saw him live, and I didn't purchase every one of his albums, I still considered myself a fan. I did appreciate his talent and his music, which dominates the soundtrack of my teenage years. Unfortunately, as it so often happens, I took for granted his existence on this earth. He was always out there somewhere, to reappear occasionally on TV or pop up on newsstands. At least I knew he was out there creating, trying to make this world a more enjoyable place.
I realize everyone has their opinion about Michael and the accusations made of him with the children at Neverland Ranch. I will keep mine to myself; but I do believe, deep down, that Michael Jackson was a kind, caring person who longed for the childhood he never had; who worked to make others' lives happy; who was a loving son, brother, uncle and father; a compassionate soul who was probably too tender for the harsh environment of this world. I think many creative people are sensitive in ways that make survival on earth impossible. Many of these folks take their own lives. Many of them descend into drugs and alcohol in order to sooth psychological cuts and scrapes inflicted by society. I think Michael fell into the latter of these categories. He'd been too caring, too sensitive and he got hurt. He sought relief and, apparently, found it in bottles of painkillers. I am saddened to think he took pills to kill pain he endured.
And while I hope he's at peace somewhere, I'm still self-centered and greedy. I wasn't done hearing what he had to say. I wasn't done watching him moonwalk across the stages of the world.
I want him back.

Okay, So I've Taken Some Deep Breaths...

I put my girls on a plane last Wednesday for the first time ever without me or my husband (ok, so they were with their aunt, my sister-in-law) and watched them fly off to New Mexico. This was extremely difficult for me. At first, when my sister-in-law offered for the girls to come visit I felt excited. Wow...time to myself...to do whatever I want! But as the moment neared for us to actually kiss them goodbye, well, I had some serious second thoughts.
These past several days have been strange. I really miss my girls and although I'm happy to get their phone calls every night and hear them squealing with happiness on the other end, I sort of wish they were missing me a little more than they seem to be!! :o(
On the other hand...I've had a lot of time alone and I'm happy to report I've gotten some good work done on my novel. Thanks to those who've offered advice in my last post. It helps knowing there are so many of you out there who understand and feel my pain! I've done some substantial revising and I think, made some significant progress.
I'm holding off on the book doctor option for now because my writing group is considering inviting a new writer into our midst--someone with some impressive credentials and editing experience. If she joins us I'll share with her some of my book and go from there. So at least I'm back to writing and making headway. I leave on Thursday to bring my girlies back home and then we jump right back into the fire of their activities/camps, etc. And who knows when I'll have this kind of time again.

This Won't Hurt a Bit

I'm stalled on the third revision of my current WIP. I've received tons of help from the supportive but battle-worn souls in my writer's group and I feel I'm running out of steam. I'm getting to the point where I feel my story is uninteresting and all-too familiar. Yes, I'm peering over the edge, towel in hand.

So I checked into the Gotham Writer's Workshop and after perusing the selection of online courses decided the mentorship program sounded pretty good. Then I spoke to someone there who strongly encouraged the services of one of their book doctors. Now I'm in a quandry. I've heard some negative slants on book doctors over the years. It feels strange to me to have to pay someone to help me w/my book. But this person is professional, with writing and teaching experience; of course they should be well-compensated for their time and energy. But I'm still unsure. Anyone out there with book doctor experience??

Twilight

I've finally caved and I'm allowing my almost 11-year old daughter read the book, Twilight. Most of her friends read this book earlier this school year--at the beginning of fifth grade. At the time, I felt the subject matter--some of which touches on teen love/lust/relationships was too mature for my daughter. But because she's worked so hard this year, has gotten exceptional grades, etc., and because she's matured a little, I felt giving her the book was just reward. She's thrilled and is devouring the book. I'm reading along with her and my jury is still out on the writing thus far. If I don't like it I probably won't say anything here (If you don't have anything nice to say....). I wouldn't want to come off as another jilted, unpublished writer throwing sour grapes at someone who has achieved success. I wish Stephanie Meyer more succes, actually. Good for her!

So with the Twilight book in the house I thought about my own "twilight" experience. I awakened this morning and just before I became fully awake, when I was in what I call my "twilight" sleep, several new ideas popped into my head for some characters in my book. I feel refreshed and energized--ready to work hard and forge ahead on my book.

This "twilight" sleep has always been helpful to me and my writing. I often get (what I feel are) my best ideas during these first few, hazy moments of the new day. The entire premise for this current WIP came during twilight sleep. I used to dismiss this time and the thoughts that arose during it. Now I find I become more conscious of my thoughts/feelings/ideas and I try, best as I can, to let go and let my mind wander. It's a wonderful experience and one I've learned to embrace as a writer.

What about you other writers out there--do you experience anything like my "twilight sleep"? And if so, what's it like for you?

Blue Skies Smiling at Me

This is the kind of day I imagine inspired these lyrics when Irving Berlin wrote them way back in the 1920's. I'm posting some pics here to prove that yes, there are some days here in northeast Ohio when there's nary a cloud in the sky and the treetops meld into the blue background to look like paintings I (we all) made as a child. It was such a spectacular day here I just had to go out with my friend and hit the links. So when friends and family wonder why my book rewrite has stalled and I seem to be lured away from my computer, here are some reasons.

This picture on the right is my family's favorite spot in the summer. And here are some more pics taken from this favorite spot:

Any other writers out there struggling with writing while spring awakens and school draws to an end??? What do you all do to stay on track?

This Time I'm Showing and Telling

This first picture is of the crabapple tree right outside our living room window. We love that it fills the window and almost looks like a picture when you're sitting in our living room, but I have to confess and tell you that our dog sits on the couch to stare out that particular window, and is the one who sees it the most. Oh well. The second picture is of the completed bookshelves (my husband's job is half way done!). Since I've put "work in progress" pictures on the blog, he asked that I put one up of the finished product. Please excuse the mess in front! I'm still moving things around.

This week I came across two articles about writing that resonated with me. One is from the June '09 edition of The Writer. The article begins on p.15 and was written by Richard Goodman. It's entitled, "No book yet? Don't lose heart." In it he speaks to those of us who've yet to have their books published, and I found the article inspirational and encouraging. I'm doing most of the things Mr. Goodman did before he made his way in the publishing world, so perhaps I'm on the right path. One place our journeys differ, however, is where he says he always considered himself a writer--even though he'd never had anything published. For some reason, I still grapple with that label. I wish I could embrace it as he did. I'm trying hard to learn that lesson and accept the description, "writer." Guess he had more self-confidence than I.

The second article was on the last page of this Sunday's New York Times Book Review in the Essay section. It was written by Lori Gottlieb and she speaks to writers and the issue of writing about family. She cites several examples of writer's mothers and how they handled being mentioned or even demonized in their children's writing. This is definitely an issue for me, although I have no burning desire to write about my family or mother, per se, much less demonize them. I have to admit, though, my parents are always in the back of my mind when I write--even this blog, which my mother does happen by every once in a while. Fortunately, she hasn't figured out how to leave a comment. ;o) Guess I'll have to continue evading her request for help teach her how to do it. I wish I could block them from my mind when I write, but this is a challenge for me. Ann Lamott says, "Write as though your parents are dead." Good advice, but difficult for me to follow. Maybe it's because I'm the oldest child and still want their approval. Who knows? I just appreciated Ms. Gottlieb's article and found comfort in the fact I am not alone when it comes to this issue. I also liked reading how some of those mothers handled seeing all or pieces of themselves in publication. Some handled it better than others, for sure. I'm not sure where my own mother would fall, and I may never know because she flat out made the request: "Please don't ever write a memoir." Trust me, even if I did pen a memoir, it wouldn't sell because we've led pretty mundane and "normal" lives. There's really not much to tell, so she has nothing to worry about. And it's not only mothers and fathers who worry. I just had something published and when my husband read it he said, "No one's going to think this about you and me, are they?" Who knows? Who cares? I think some of my best writing comes from the deepest, most honest part of my self, and often that part is rooted in my childhood. So no, I probably won't ever write a memoir, but I may write a story and have a family sitting around a large sheet of plywood draped with a tablecloth as substitute for the dining room table. The uncle in the story may have had too much to drink that Thanksgiving and when someone asks if he can please pass the bread, he'll throw a roll at them from the other end of the table and my mom will know where I got that idea. I hope it will make her smile rather than wince.

Spring is Here!

Aside from the colorful blooms that pop their heads up from the ground after a long winter's hibernation, and the green leaves that wave at us from the trees, the return of the mallards is our favorite sign of spring's return. We've only lived in northeast Ohio for three years but these ducks have come into our back yard ever since. I guess I buy tasty bird food (black oil sunflower seeds, for anyone who's interested). For the past couple of years we've had just one couple. We think they've spread the word about our good eats because now we have this menage a trois. They--along with the other couple--come every day once in the morning and again in the evening. I had to call the Lake Erie Science Center last week because the male from the first couple has something wrong with his leg. He limps around and "wing walks" across my yard. The "duck expert" with whom I spoke at the center said she'll help fix his leg if I can just get him in there. It can be done, (or so she says...) so I'm going to give it a try. After speaking with her I came away with some knowledge I'll share with any duck lovers out there.
Mallards, unlike Canadian geese, do not necessarily mate for life. If the same ducks gather back at the same breeding grounds, they most likely hook up with the same partner they've mated with in the past, but it's not a given.
The female mallard lays an egg a day until she has her "clutch" of 8 to 12 eggs. Then she sits on the nest around the clock, maybe leaving to eat for a short period of time, but returning to the nest quickly.
Mallards do return to their usual nesting grounds, so it's likely some of these ducks are the same ones who've been coming to our yard these past three years.
Once he's "done his job", the male is not really needed by the female. She sits on the nest and then takes care of the babies once they're born.
Who knew female mallards were some of nature's single moms?