The Seasons Change and So Do I
Posted: September 23, 2011 Filed under: Goals, Writers Write | Tags: change of seasons, Trusting Your Instincts, writers, writing Leave a comment »
Target had mittens on sale today. The high was ninety. Granted, ninety is an ice storm compared to a line of never-ending days over a hundred. But mittens? The sales department in Minnesota should take a road trip.
I started to title this post, How I Spent My Summer Vacation. But when you write full-time, you are never on vacation. You write. All the time. Which brings me to the point.
I finished the book.
That’s scary. I’ll say it again.
I finished the book.
Typing those words is like getting off the roller coaster and getting back in line. Seriously. I sent it to my Beta readers, and while I tap my fingers in anticipation of their comments out of habit from pounding the keyboard, I’m lost. Between worlds.
I’ve never been good at transitions. I’m a full-out kind of girl. I’ve written a query. I’m stumbling through the synopsis. But it feels a little like watching the out-takes from the end of a Mary-Kate and Ashley video. I know there’s something better to do, but I haven’t gotten off the couch to find the remote.
I’ve been so immersed. I’ve developed a social anxiety about blogging. That thing where I avoid something so long, I’m intimidated–afraid of over-sharing. I have two choices: A.Quit B.Write every day. I’m going with B for a while, but I’m turning off the comments for the time being. I’m crazy enough to keep checking back to see if you’re reading. And, I can’t handle waiting on the Betas AND the blog readers.
Hurricane Bob
Posted: September 12, 2010 Filed under: Joined at the Heart, Writers Write | Tags: change of seasons, walking, writers, writing Leave a comment »
A live oak tree broken by Tropical Storm Hermine.
The last time I saw Bob he was pouring a bottle of water over his head. He’d been running. In his seventies, he ran everyday. I don’t know how far. I don’t run, so any distance is too much for me.
I met him at the park. Several years ago, I missed a few months. When I came back, he stopped mid-stride to ask where I’d been. I told him about the vertigo. He congratulated me on making a comeback. He often asked about my kids or talked to my dog, who reminded him of a schnauzer he once loved. We sparred gently over politics and shared Spurs victories. He was a guy I knew in passing, a part of my daily routine.
Last week, Tropical Storm Hermine blew through, blowing down hundred-year-old oak trees and flooding the streets. When the sky cleared and the water receded, I went to the park. The regulars were there–walking dogs, jogging, talking about the storm. That’s how I heard about Bob’s death.
I didn’t know him well. I’d never seen him outside of his morning run, but talking to Bob made a difference. I’ll miss his friendly face.
Bird’s Nest
Posted: April 19, 2010 Filed under: cottage garden, Joined at the Heart, Writers Write | Tags: change of seasons, cottage garden, family, garden, writers, writing 1 Comment »
A pair of cardinals built a nest in the bubble gum blossoms of our Old Blush rose. Their castle is a pastel fortress. Dad sings from the top of a pecan tree, while mom incubates. Yesterday, a mockingbird made a run at her, and Red swooped to the rescue. The mockingbird is bigger than the cardinal, but Red has love on his side.
