Aug 24, 2014 |
The wind has been blowing here at Bedford Manor. At times its brought with it a cleansing rain, at others, it just stirs the dust. There’s been heat, sun, clouds, humidity, wind, and stillness. The weather just can’t make up its mind.
Rain on a Leaf
It’s symbolic of how I’ve been feeling lately ~ uncertain as to my purpose. I hit a rather large wall of writer’s block last month and it’s taken me until two days ago to chisel it down.
I’d previously set a goal to have the first (and hopefully only) draft of NOLA finished by now. I’d wanted to start marketing it for sale in October. Instead, I’m rewriting the beginning and incorporating bits and pieces of what I’ve already done.
Most writers will advocate for writing the first draft in its entirety before starting any edits. I usually agree. Except NOLA needed a change. Without changing the beginning, I couldn’t coherently string those changes through the rest of the text. So I threw my self-imposed deadline out the window and, to the cheers of my writing mentor and critique group, am focusing on quality, not quantity.
I’ve been blessed with a friendship with Ms. New Orleans 2014, Lindsay Reine. Not only is she full of information on New Orleans, she’s become my newest cheerleader.
I still have my #DoingTheWriteThing fundraiser but I’ve amped it up a little. On the advice of several friends, I began a GoFundMe campaign. I like it for a variety of reasons. There’s no deadline, no all-or-nothing criteria. And it’s incredibly easy to navigate, update, and share.
I currently have three sponsors for a total of $110.00. It may not sound like much, but it’s eleven thousand pennies more than I had a month ago!
My Penny Jar
I must be doing something right, or should I say, write. I’m thankful for each of you, all of you, who believe in what I do, and who are helping me to achieve the goals of taking one step at a time. Some steps are bigger than others, and sometimes I have to take a step back. But a trusted person once told me
One Step Forward
Being a Christian and writing a murder mystery can be dichotic but not mutually exclusive. Ted Dekker does a fine job of weaving intrigue and sinister acts into redeeming storylines. I can do the same.
So I will continue to work on NOLA, and trust you’ll understand my delay. I’d much rather present you with a take-your-breath-away piece of writing in a few months or even a year or two, than to sell something now that you wouldn’t take off the bookshelf again, or worse, recommend to a friend.
I’m back in the saddle with blogging too, but I’ve a suspicion you may already know this.
During the holidays, I hope to add a few craft and decorating ideas as well as some recipes and reviews.
In the meantime, I’ll continue to pray, work, take care of Bedford Manor, and of course, I’ll keep #DoingTheWriteThing.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
How Bedford Manor Got Its Name
My Real Italian Kitchen: Polenta and Sauce
FIVE THINGS FRIDAY: Start/Stop
BETTER: Thanksgiving
More or Less: 29 Words
Jun 15, 2014 |
It seems like just yesterday that I slightly bared my soul and asked for pray and partnership toward Doing the Write Thing . . . oh, wait. It was!
I do my best writings on Sunday afternoons when the chores are done, the errands have been run, and it’s nothing but me, Pandora, a nice breeze, and a cool beverage.
I always have at least two drinks available at all times. Today I’m drinking ice water or Ginger Ale, depending on which I grab first.
I was invited to post directly at LinkedIn so today I created my first article, 10 Things Your Insurance Agents Wish You Knew.
All that to say, every Sunday in my quiet moments, I’ll post updates on my fundraising campaign as well as my weekly writing production in general.
As of this moment, I have one sponsor for $20.00. This contribution isn’t a surprise to me, since it’s my friend Mary and she told me before I even started the campaign that she’d help out. So thanks, Mary. She’s a fellow member of the California Writer’s Club, High Desert Branch, the leader of the critique group I’m in, and a great friend.
I also have three Social Supporters: those who can’t contribute monetarily at this time, but are sharing my links and dreams through their social media circles to help gain visibility. Thank you, William, Ann and Melanie.
NOLA is coming along quite nicely. I’ve nearly 21,000 words which, considering the average adult novel is 70,000 words, means I’m about 30% finished. Last week I realized the rest of the plot which meant going back through what I’d previously written and making sure I dropped the right hints and dialogue.
My other writing projects are on the back burner until I finish NOLA, which I plan for the end of August. I guess that means I’d better get back to it. These words don’t write themselves, and I’ve a character or two to add.
Side shout to Toronto Mary and the Strumbellas. I hear-tell my CD is finally crossing the border and should be here in a week or two. Can’t wait!
Until then, thanks for keeping me on the path to Doing the Write Thing!
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
Doing the Write Thing: Writing Conferences Fundraiser
I am Defined. And I am a Mystery.
FIVE THINGS FRIDAY: POETRY
The Strumbellas
2014:BETTER.
FIVE THINGS FRIDAY: THE BIG EASY
Apr 22, 2014 |
I’m afraid of my own success. What if achieving my dreams means changing everything I know about my life?
I am my own worst enemy. I love stability of structure and I’m not one to shed the security blanket easily.
But often, blank pages hold just as much accusations as they do promise.
Blank Pages are the World’s Canvas
I play the “What If” game too often because, in the past, the “What If’s” happened. The bad ones. The oh-my-God-this-could-only-happen-to-me and the I’m-one-in-a-million-and-not-in-a-good-way ones. The I’m-being-sabotaged-and-no-one-will-stand-up-for-me ones. The life-will-never-be-the-same-again ones.
And I really love stability.
So when anything comes along that can upset the apple cart, I get nervous.
I’ve had to learn to recognize my anxiety triggers. I know to avoid too much coffee on those high-adrenaline days. I have a “smart shopping” checklist on my iPhone for those necessary eat-out-but-not-fast-food days. The older I get, the better I am at listening to my body. My emotions may want chocolate ganache, but my bloodstream craves caffeine-free Gatorade.
Better sleep + better foods = better emotions.
So the anxiety doesn’t get to me like it used to. Of course, there are certain elements that are no longer around. That helps, too. You know what I’m talking about: those button-pusher people who are as good at backstabbing as they are at infiltrating. Those situations that belong on a soap opera and not in my life. I’ve been lucky to distance myself from the hurts and the hurtful. But their shadows remain.
I’ve had to retrain myself to not be afraid, the way others wanted to keep me afraid. Of sharing myself. Of living authentically. Of being the Me I’m supposed to be. Their false condemnations that who I was wasn’t good enough, would never be good enough. That I had deep, dark secrets to be spilled instead of forgiveness to be shared.
But now I know.
I’m better than that.
I’m better than what they said.
I’m better.
But I’m still afraid.
I’m still okay with the bad “What If’s”. The ones I can’t control.
But . . .
What if I am successful? What if I achieve everything I know I’m meant to do?
What if I conquer it all . . .
And I win?
The last few years were so hard. You’ve heard my poverty stories before. I know I’m not unique. I know there are many more people out there fighting just like me to save their homes and feed their families and do a thousand dollars worth of repairs on a nickel budget. People who don’t have the resources that I have, people who don’t have other people to come alongside them and cheer them on or pull them back on to the path.
And I’m not trying to complain. But my life is such a dichotomy between the dregs of the economy and the elation of my soaring words.
I don’t want to be stuck here any more. I don’t want to whine and complain and worry and cry.
But I do.
Yet, I see my way out. I see the path that I’ve laid, and I see where it’s going.
I no longer put the word “aspiring” before “writer” when I tell people what I do. I am a writer. I am a good writer. The rest of the world will soon discover how great a writer I am.
My “new” workspace ~ a real desk!
In the last two months, just eight short weeks, my writing universe has grown by leaps and bounds. I have my desk. I’ve met some wonderful people who are turning out to be great connections. I saw the need for a position with my writers club and asked to create it. [The result was a resounding yes: I’m now the official Social Media Manager for the California Writers Club, High Desert Branch, come join the fun on Facebook.] All four books are progressing fast. I might soon have The Unemployment Cookbook on local bookstore shelves. My critique group is essential to me in a craft capacity, and a fellowship.
All these are the beginnings of what I have always prayed for, always held my breath and crossed my fingers for. All these are essential to me being Me.
To be able to put food on the table and gas in the car and pay the bills on time and stop these damned collection calls and not “borrow” money that everyone knows until I win the lottery I will never be able to pay it back.
And that scares me, too. It scares me because it’s possible financial stability is on the five-year horizon. If I don’t need my family, my mommy and brothers, any more, will they still need me?
If Megan and I obtain all we’re reaching for, do I have to give up being home every night with Dot and our FurFamily?
If I don’t have to worry about tomorrow as much as I currently do, what will I do with that happiness?
I don’t want to be arrogant or a celebrity. I just want to be the best writer I can possibly be. I want to share my stories with the world. And yes, I would like to know that my stories make a difference.
And make money. Let’s be real. This is how I want to pay my bills. This is how I long to provide for my family.
For my family.
MoJo & Dot
And so I write my stories. My poems. My blogs. My thoughts and suspicions and dreams and nightmares. And I share them. And I collect them for future publication. And I keep on writing it out. Because I can’t be the only one who thinks like this, right? I can’t be the only one who feels so incomplete and so uplifted at the same time . . . right?
This is my calling. To be the best writer I know how to be. To tell the world about life in a way that can only be told by me.
But I’m not there yet. I’m still taking the journey. And at times it’s dark and twisty and scary. My heart pounds inside my chest and I can’t catch my breath.
What If I’m wrong? What If my path is a dead-end? What If those shadows are still waiting to sabotage me? What If I lose the house before I earn enough to save it? What If more bad than good happens?
Can I keep going on?
Yes.
So I let my light shine. From inside. Whatever light I have, I broadcast it.
Sometimes it’s a candle. Sometimes it’s the sun.
The end of the path will never be a reality. I’m thankful for that. With each step taken, there’s another step to take.
While I’m still here, still bringing with me the pains of the past, still glimpsing an uncertain future, I do know this: I have something to say.
And I can say it well.
I just need the rest of the world to listen.
As I sit here drafting this post, trying not to complain, trying to look for the light and not worry about tomorrow or the distractions it brings, my friend Janice posted this on her Facebook profile:
“Strength & resilience emerge by your own will to become a better person, no matter what downfalls happen in your life… be your own hero.”
Thanks, Janice. You are, as always, the right person at the right time.
How do you like them apples?!
How Do You Like Them Apples?!
“Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes.” [Luke 12:22-23, NIV]
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
Apples
Poverty: My Story
I am Defined. And I am a Mystery.
This post is linked up with Shell at Things I Can’t Say. Because sometimes, we just can’t.
Mar 31, 2014 |
My web-designer updated my website this weekend. That’s New Inklings Press’s website, not the blog.
I’m very excited. The changes are subtle but specific.
You can now link to my Amazon page, and individual product, from the home page. You can read about upcoming projects and our authors. And of course, you can still shop directly.
Which is a good thing, because I have 75 copies of the THE UNEMPLOYMENT COOKBOOK, Second Edition. Remember when you followed last year’s journey to get it published, and how you said to yourself, “I need to order.” or “This would make a great gift.” or “So-and-so really needs a copy of this.”
The Unemployment Cookbook, Second Edition
Well now’s your opportunity. With just 75 printed copies left and no plans for a reprint, this may, in fact, be your last chance.
Now here’s the “wish” part of this post. It’s my wish, my goal, to sell all my cookbooks before Easter. There are three small bills I am trying to pay in full, and, as you may have read on my Facebook page, I’d like to get a Disneyland annual pass. Sure, that last one isn’t a necessity.
But Dot and I used to have passes. Instead of a big vacation, we’d go to the Parks a few times a year together, as well as with friends. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to renew my pass for a few years now. She and her friends have. And let’s be honest: This Momma’s a tad bit jealous.
Disney Dream (from a door on Main Street, U.S.A., Disneyland, CA)
Does the world stop spinning without Disneyland? Of course not. Can we still have Quality Family Time without the Mouse? We do every day.
But now and then I think it’s okay to say out loud, “This is what I’m trying for” and see what happens. This, for me, is that moment.
A “New” website. A cookbook. And a wish.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
Dear Disneyland . . .
Following Fabian
FIVE THINGS FRIDAY: Everything old is NEW Again
Mar 25, 2014 |
Amazon is synonymous with sales, especially books. The great part is, Amazon makes it easy for authors of all sorts to share their stories. In particular, I’m in love with their Author’s Pages. A person can share as little or as much as they like, and link to their most important social media networks.
Publishing eBooks for Kindle download is just as easy. Once you have the finished draft, a quick upload is all it takes to get started.
You can check out my Amazon Author’s Page here. It contains all the aforementioned goodies, and more.
Now that I’m back in the swing of writing and blogging, I thought this would be a good time to promote my Kindle eBooks. You’ve read my posts as I started these writings, and you celebrated with me as I published.
It’s time to be rewarded for your cheerleading.
THE PENNY PARABLE will be free Wednesday and Thursday of this week.
The Penny Parable
A STUDY ON THE TEN COMMANDMENTS will be price-reduced as well.
A Study on the Ten Commandments
It’s my way of giving back and saying thanks. Thanks for reading, thanks for cheering.
Just . . . thanks.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
“Life is Rough. I’m still a diamond.”
2014: BETTER.
The Friday Five – STORIES
