Skip to main content

Jotting it down

I think I like to write because it lets me be someone else.  I can be magical, beautiful, funny, witty, mean, loud, strange - anything I want and the worst that can happen is my character is flat or unlikeable.  Much easier than real life.

In real life there is this pressure.  PRESSURE.  Will you like me?  Will you think I'm vain, rude, pushy, screechy, annoying?  Will you think I'm wonderful, funny, insightful, kind?  I know which list I prefer.

Within the crafted word is an infinite number of possibilities.  Just the other day I thought of a really funny parody I'd like to write based on a very famous book and movie.  It doesn't have vampires in it, either.  I talked it over with Eric, sketched out an outline, laughed at my own pithy ways, and left the little seedling to germinate in my file. 

That same file also contains the seed of a story I've been working on and working over for almost six years now.  Six years!  To be sure I haven't spent a lot of those six years on those words.  I get frustrated by the dead ends, afraid of the ordinary, and stuck on the moments in between.  After almost six years of writing, I have no definite beginning, middle or end.  Although the beginning is coming along. (Sounds a lot like life, dontcha think?)

That same file holds some children's stories that delight me, some random phrases and sentences I'd like to use, and a Viking girl of about 15.  I'm not sure where any of those stories will go, but for now the like the dark and dusty places of my imaginary world.

I set a goal to finish a manuscript by July 31, 2011.  I've been thinking about that goal, twisting and turning it in the corners of my mind, chewing on the possibilities.  I want to give it a try, we'll see where the writing road takes me (it very well could be nowhere).

Only time (and words) will tell.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Carly,

I assume that one day you will come to me wanting to know who you are, where you came from, where your other family is and why they gave you to us.  I offer you little bits of information already, but certainly not crumbs enough to satisfy the appetite.  Perhaps it won't matter to you.  I am assuming a lot, already, about how adoption will impact your life.

People often wonder why adoptive parents are hurt when their children seek out biological roots.  I have the answer, and it's very simple.  Adoption - at its core - makes us question the legality, authority, voracity, and validity of parenthood.  For most adoptive parents, first you must come to terms with an issue that strikes at the foundations of mortality: fertility.  From birth, most of us are driven to form families.  First we are nestlings, nurtured and weened and eventually taught to fly.  Then we are nest-builders, filling our lives with the stuff necessary to drive life forward.  Knowledge, safety, money, a sturdy …

On being away from home and turning sixteen: a letter to my son

Dear Josh,

I missed your sixteenth birthday.  I'm sure you recall - or maybe it wasn't so bad because you spent the whole day with your friend watching movies.  Godzilla and Guardians of the Galaxy, you've said.  It's no surprise to me that Godzilla was your favorite of the two.  That atomic green monster holds a special place in your heart.

It was very difficult for me to be away from you when you crossed this threshold in your life.  I remember turning sixteen, being sixteen, and wondering when I would feel like I was actually sixteen.  When I was sixteen, I went and found my first job, I started driving myself around, and I pretty much felt like I was in the wrong skin.  I'm only now, at 37, beginning to feel in the right skin.  Or at least comfortable with the skin I'm in.  But you - well, you don't seem to have a problem being you.  I can't explain how very happy that makes me feel, how very reassured.  Because it can be really hard not to like you…

Hello? Is it me you're looking for?

You know when you see someone again and it's been, like, forever, and you're not really even sure that you're getting their name right and you wonder WHAT on EARTH they've done to their hair/face/body/children and you can't quite find the right words to fill the gap between time and space?
My second year of teaching is just beginning - and isn't that a wonder?  Last year...let's just say, we all survived.  Last year involved:
- Commuting home (2 hours, one way) almost every weekend - The kids and I here (in Espanola, where I teach) while Eric stayed in Edgewood - Putting our (still for sale) house on the market - Two semesters of Master's classes (what was I thinking??? on the up side, I only have 1 semester left and I am DONE.  D. O. N. E.) - Saturday's spent in professional development - My first ever "work trip" to San Diego 
And this year:
- Josh is a Senior (whuuuut!) - Carly started 5th grade - We all live here in Espanola (double WH…