Open Up...

I've struggled with ideas for my blog lately when it dawned on me to write something about new blood, fresh eyes and being open to new people. After all, the idea was right in front of my face. I was in the middle of reading a story by someone new to my writer's group.
My writing group is a tight-knit group of three. We began as a large and loose group that met monthly at our local library. Then four of us split off and met biweekly for a year until one woman moved away and left the three of us: another woman, one brave man and I.
It occurred to us a few months ago that we might need some new blood in the group. We'd all read and worked on each others' WIP's, and while we felt we'd made headway on these projects, we believed fresh eyes and opinions could be helpful. Change is good, right? I believe it is even though I find it challenging and frightening at times. Two people approached the other woman in the group and expressed interest in joining us. I knew we needed more members, but still felt squeamish at allowing them in--and one, a woman--has some pretty impressive credentials. Who was I to balk at her joining??
I couldn't help it. I expressed my reluctance to my group who, (I believe) understood my angst. I still hate sharing my work with others--an issue with which I continually wrestle.
Well...long story short...I'm glad these folks have joined us, and I've grown more comfortable with the idea of change and being open to others in general. It's always good to have fresh eyes read your work. This new woman discovered a split infinitive at the very beginning of my novel that we've read countless times. How did we miss that glaring offense??
So now I'm wondering...how many of you out there have had similar experiences? Do you welcome or rebel against change? And your take on writing groups? We either love 'em or hate 'em. Mine has become invaluable to my writing process. People are drawn together in this world for a reason. We're here to learn from one another. I feel that way about my family and friends, and definitely my writer's group. Even the newer members, from whom I've already learned. I'm glad I put my petty issues aside and opened myself up to the possibility of new relationships and new experiences. Hopefully, my writing will be better for it.
Oh, and before I sign off, Happy Birthday to my baby who turned 11 at exactly 2:53 p.m. this afternoon. While I'm thankful she's happy and healthy, I'm crying with each growth spurt and development toward adulthood. Sob, sob, boo, hoo. Don't all you mothers feel sorry for me?? ;o)

Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head

The song by B.J. Thomas was one of my favorites as a child. I even had a music box that played the tune. It's what ran through my head when I first saw this amazing video. Many of you have probably seen it, but for those who haven't it's worth a look and listen. Thanks, Mom, for sending it our way. I wish I was as creative as the person who conceptualized this idea. I have no idea who this group is, or where they come from, but I love this creation. Enjoy!

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?