Monday, November 2, 2015

Pain and Guilt



Mom sitting with my Dad last year while he was in rehab.


My 92-year-old mother fell last week and broke her pelvic bone. She's in rehab now and, at times, in a lot of pain. And I sit there, helpless, unable to make it go away. Oh, I pester the nurses and aides, asking them to give her some pain meds, shift her position, do something. They probably can't wait for me to go home.

Every night I pray for my mother to pass peacefully in her sleep. And every morning I wake up feeling guilty for that prayer. Then I go to the rehab center, see her face reflecting pain (and anger), and that prayer creeps back into my consciousness, as does the guilt.

Mom wants to die. She's said it time and time again since my father passed last year and her health started to decline. A bad fall last December and six weeks of rehab left her using a walker. I'm pretty sure she'll need a wheelchair after this one. She hates having to rely on the help of others, especially when it comes to personal care. So I see her pain, her humiliation, and true desire to leave this world and I pray, knowing in my heart that she will be in a better place.

Here's what's really bothering me. There's a part of me that selfishly wants her to die, because it would be easier for me, too. No more worrying about her. No more having to watch her in pain, both physical and emotional. No more guilt for not living close by and seeing my wonderful sister-in-law have to take on the day-to-day care giving. So I pray for forgiveness.

And the cycle continues.


Saturday, October 24, 2015

Newbies, Writing Associations, and Critique Groups. Oh My!







“I've got the key to my castle in the air, but whether I can unlock the door remains to be seen.” 
Louisa May Alcott, Little Women



Many people think writing is a lonely endeavor. You sit in a (hopefully) quiet space, all by yourself, staring at the computer, it's blank page daring you to "Go ahead. Fill me up. Make it good!" What's a writer to do?

If you're new at this game, that feeling of being all on your own can be so intimidating that you might quit before you've given yourself a real chance. So, I'm going to let you in on an open secret. You are not alone. There are many options available to you if you know where to look.

First, search the internet for writers' associations, both local and national. Many national ones have state or regional affiliates. I write for kids, and can highly recommend the Society for Children Book Writers and Illustrators. (SCBWI) It's an international organization that is well regarded in the publishing industry. There are also organizations for mystery, romance, historical, even memoir writers. Find one that fits your category and become a member.

Second, join a critique group in your genre. That take a little more effort, but if you've enrolled in an association, you can most likely find what you're looking for there. And if you can't find one, then start one. Hey, I never said it was easy.

Third, make friends with your characters. They're your creations. They're a part of you, but they also have a life of their own. And that life is fascinating. Your characters take you places you might never go on your own. I love my peeps.

Writing is not a lonely profession. It's one filled with people, both the ones you meet at conferences, et al, and the ones you bring to life in your books.  Go ahead. Give it a try. Fill up those pages. And don't worry about making it good. That comes with time, practice, and the help of that association and critique group. Even if you never get published, you've accomplished something most people only dream about. Honestly, I can't think of a more exciting profession.






 “The scariest moment is always just before you start.” 
Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft







Saturday, October 17, 2015

You Only Have To Be Right Once

You Only Have To Be Right Once

 


 

Disappointment. It can be crippling. Whether it's in love, work, or missed opportunity, when something you looked forward to or planned for, doesn't work out, you—okay, I—let it stop me cold. But over the years, I've been able to shorten that period of numbness. Now it lasts for a day, sometimes two. I've learned to put it behind me and forge ahead.

Take yesterday, for example. I'd made an appointment to pitch my new novel to an agent at a writer's conference, but she'd had an emergency and didn't show up. She was the whole reason for my being there in the first place. My stomach dropped. I'd just driven 2 1/2 hours, checked into a motel, and spent more money than I should have. BUT...

The presenter of the conference and the motel people said yes to refunding my money. The agent offered a more direct route to querying her. And, I was able to drive home and sleep in my own bed that night. I'd lost some time, yes, but that's okay. One can do a lot of thinking, plotting out scenes, developing story lines on a long drive. And I'm a believer in fate. Everything happens for a reason. And if I don't see that reason clearly right away, it will make itself know eventually.

It's taken my a long time to learn that lesson. I wish I could pull a "Peggy Sue Got Married" and go back in time. Know then what I know now. That would be so cool. Oooops. I think I just gave away the plot of my next novel. So happy I had that long ride home! 



Saturday, October 10, 2015

The Breathings of the Heart.




William Wordsworth once wrote "Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart." I've heard the saying "Write what you know" but the "breathings of the heart"? That's so much more than just knowing. It took a decade, but I finally gave myself permission to write about a subject that pierced my heart when I first heard about it.

There was a book inside me that  needed to be told, and I was uniquely qualified to tell it. But I didn't want to. For years it was too painful a subject for me to personally tackle. Too close. Too personal. But enough time has passed since that awful day my granddaughter was diagnosed with Tourette Syndrome, and the angst has settled down to a numbing sorrow.

My granddaughter is in college now. She's a beautiful child/woman who still has to cope with tics and obsessions and the embarrassment of both. She's shy about talking about it. I can't blame her. Anything that focuses on the symptoms makes them worse. But she knew that I needed to write this novel about living with this neurological disorder and she gave her tacit approval by not saying no.

So, for the past year I've been writing DIFFERENT, a novel about a twelve-year-old child with Tourette Syndrome. Not only has writing this book been cathartic for me, I'm hoping it will help parents, teachers, and the every day citizen to understand the disorder a little better. It's not about cursing. It's about living with embarrassing, uncontrollable urges. It's about not judging. It's about forgiveness and love. It's about being different.

DIFFERENT isn't available yet. It's looking for a home. I'll be sure to let you know when it finds one.