Dear Michigan…

I spent a lot of time in Michigan the last two days.

Not literally, of course. But online. I chatted with my friends still there. I dreamed my way through Michigan.org. I rewrote a short story about snow for my writing class.

I spent a lot of time in Michigan.

It’s where I learned to point to the palm of my hand and say, “I live here.”

I lived here.

It’s been decades since I’ve been there, but I can still feel the easy humidity of a warm summer’s night spent running barefoot on the grass. The fresh, new air when bulbs push their first leaves through the damp soil in the spring. The crispy, crunchy footsteps of walking through a mosaic of fallen Oak and Maple leaves. And the blinding brightness of cold falling snow.

I grew up in Michigan. It’s where I learned to ride a bike. Talk to neighbors. Swim in a lake. Sled down the street. It’s where we played Lava in the house, and hid in the spaceship of our basement.

My mom’s flower gardens. My dad’s tomatoes. My brother working on his car. Typing out homework.

It’s where I found my first stray cat. Played with snakes and raccoons. Learned how to layer clothing. Roast marshmallows. Camp in the backyard.

It’s where my best friends once lived, and have returned to. Leaving a light on for me.

I love Bedford Manor. But I’m lonely for that light. For staying up late talking nonsense. Drinking coffee on the patio in the morning fog. Reaching hands to pray over dinner. I’m lonely for that company.

And I can’t wait to return. If even just for a visit.

Keep the light on and warm the Mittens, Michigan. One way or another… I’ll be there.

And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!

Lessons Learned: The Writer Edition

  1. Writing is different than being a Writer.
  2. Inspiration is everywhere. If you know a Writer, your story will be told. Somehow, somewhere, you will be immortalized in Story.
  3. To write well, it’s important to read.
  4. Reading well includes a variety of genres, sources, and methods.
  5. Social media can definitely be a form of writing.
  6. Social media can, but shouldn’t, be a distraction.
  7. Being a Writer includes studying, researching, and daydreaming.
  8. Writers do not vacation for long periods of time on sandy beaches or in cozy ski lodges.
  9. Writers dream about vacationing for long periods of time on sandy beaches or in cozy ski lodges.
  10. There are descriptive words, and then there are fragrant collections of letters that grow together to bring a scent of peace and adventure to the reader.
  11. A good Writer is a bit arrogant and narcissistic.
  12. A great Writer will never understand why they are great.
  13. A great Writer sees their potential more often than recognizing their success.
  14. Writers dream. Literally.
  15. And, Writers dream. Figuratively.
  16. Words are our friends.
  17. And words can be our worst enemy.
  18. Being a Writer can include Blogging.
  19. Some Blogs should never be posted.
  20. A Writer is only as good as their readers.
  21. Writers are eavesdroppers.
  22. Writers are voyeurs.
  23. Writers are Storytellers.
  24. Not all stories are written by Writers. Some stories take on a life of their own and write themselves.
  25. Characters can be unruly children and do what they want regardless of how they are meant to be written.
  26. Not all people who write are Writers.
  27. Some Writers learn their craft and do well.
  28. True Writers are born and share their life with the world.
  29. Real Writers are nothing without their Cheerleaders.

And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!

She Is Busy… Oh, So Busy…

Unemployed by Day, Super Writer by … every moment.

It’s hard to explain to others what exactly I do for a living. What that question is really asking is, “How do I earn money?” That’s completely different than what I do for a living.

“I’m a Writer” conjures up romantic images of a carefree, vagrant lifestyle. That’s not at all what I do. I don’t just put out words that come to me then sit under a tree drinking wine. I don’t go on great trips or even eat out all that much. I don’t belong to a Writer’s Group where we share our intimate ideas in a secluded room. Writing ~ my writing ~ is not at all what you see on television.

Writing is not the same as Being a Writer. It’s the “being” part: I live to write. I live for words. I look for stories around every corner, in every shadow, on every smiling face.

I don’t just sit under my laptop and randomly bang away until something mediocre appears. Writing is editing, formulating, brainstorming, organizing, evaluating, reviewing, posting, sharing, scribbling, photographing, reading, researching…

I write in my sleep. I dream story ideas. Every bite of food I take, I find words to describe it. I’m helpless in a movie theatre because I also think how I would have written it differently. I no longer purchase products. I evaluate them. And I’m a sucker for mentally correcting others’ grammar and punctuation.

Recently, I prioritized my writing projects as well as redesigned the Blog. Since I’m a creature who craves stability and scheduling, these are both HUGE deals. Changing the Blog look and layout was a small-but-giant step for me. Prioritizing my projects helped me see which ones are closer to being finished, and which ones are still in the not-really-a-workable-idea-yet stage.

I have a schedule and accountability/progress chart. I’ve set realistic goals. I’m an organized dreamer. I keep a pen and notepad in every room of my house, in my car, and in my purse and backpack. I’m always making notes. Nearly every task I do, I do with the thought of being a Writer.

Housecleaning? Product reviews. How To’s. Short stories about struggling housewives.

Girls’ Night Out? Travel reviews. Fashion photography. And in the right setting where others can be seen and overheard, story idea after story idea after story idea.

Chatting with friends. Preparing a meal. Brushing my teeth. Folding laundry.

I work constantly.

I’ve started to say it to myself. I’ve started to announce to those who ask. I’m not a struggling artist looking for recognition. I recognize it in me.

And that’s where it starts.

Say it loud, and say it proud.

I don’t just write.

I am a Writer.

And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!