Compliment

It’s gratifying to hear compliments: “You look nice today,” or “I love your shoes.” A kind word can lift the spirits on days when you really need it. But if I had to pick the best compliment I’ve ever received, I’d have to refer to a conversation I had with one of my coworkers last year.

I work as a cashier at a grocery store, and this particular young man–he’s 17–had just started his job and was asking me some questions about me out of curiosity. I explained how I’d been married for 20 years, started working at that very store at 18 on the register, moved over to the deli, left and waitressed for a while, went back to the store, went to community college and worked for an accountant, met my husband and got married, worked in the beer & wine department, had our daughter and stayed home with her for two years, went back to work at a toy store, then eventually came back to the grocery store–to work on the register.

I’d come full circle, and, I thought, not gotten very far. It’s perhaps one of the nagging regrets of my approaching middle years: I look around me at my young coworkers with bright futures, and think–I didn’t do enough. I didn’t improve myself. I didn’t get far in life at all. I still live in the same town I was born in, never having left it, if that tells you anything.

But this young man, who plans on being a doctor (or a lawyer)–and I have no doubt that he will do just that–this young man, in all sincerity, said to me, “Wow, you’ve had an interesting life.”

I was struck dumb for a minute. No one had ever said that about my life before. I certainly hadn’t believed I’d lived anything but a normal (and slightly dull) existence. In fact, I’d been ashamed at what I hadn’t accomplished in my life. But this young man, with the fresh, undiscriminating eyes of the young, had proclaimed that my experiences had amounted to “an interesting life.” Huh.

That has to rank as one of the best compliments I’d ever received, mostly because it was so surprising, and made me look at my life in a new light. Perhaps it takes someone else’s perspective to achieve this.

Now that I think about it, maybe I do have a pretty interesting life, at least to me. There aren’t a lot of external bells and whistles, but there’s a stack of notebooks and journals suggesting that how I process this life is what makes it interesting.

Thank you, Peter.

be in love with your life
Still trying.

 

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I’ll Never Do This

Don't walk

I’m a lover of lists. Whether it’s making a to-do list or grocery list for home, or listing my favorite (fill in the blank) for the blog, there’s something about numbering lines on a piece of paper and filling it that makes me weirdly happy. I feel organized and/or insightful, somehow in control of my world.

While poking around in a book of writing prompts (still not feeling it and needed some help), I came across this one: List 25 Things You Will Never Do. This one appealed to me; it turned the usual list-making idea onto its head. Not what you will do or want to do, but what you’ll never do. It examines the underbelly, the negative space in your life.

Well, here’s a least 10 Things I’ll Never Do:

  1. Jump out of an airplane.
  2. Eat Kale.
  3. Read Ulysses.
  4. Be able to keep a plant alive.
  5. Be fashionable.
  6. Give up chocolate.
  7. Learn to drive stick shift.
  8. Get an iPhone.
  9. Stop biting my fingernails.
  10. Stop writing.

It feels good to at least know what I won’t do.

What will you never do?

 

 

Let the Whole Thundering World Come Home

Page and Screen

thundering world

Readers of my other blog, My Writing Journey, know that I’ve been a longtime fan of Natalie Goldberg, ever since I discovered her first writing book Writing Down the Bones way back in my twenties, and I tentatively thought that maybe, possibly, you know, I could be a writer. She gave me the courage to put words down on paper, to own my mind and my truth, and to keep writing, no matter what.

I’ve followed Natalie over the years through many writing books and memoirs, and though I don’t always follow her prescription of writing in the notebook everyday, I often go back to it when I’m feeling stuck or lost. It’s a baseline, a foundation that holds me up when I’m feeling like I made the biggest mistake of my life by pursuing this course.

In her books, I not only learned about writing and the writing…

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Keep Going

bee on flower

Lately, I feel as if my writing has been a series of snippets here and there, projects started and abandoned, notes taken, a few lines added, dropped again. Scattered leaves blowing in the wind. Like an essay I’ve been mulling about my grandmother. Or a short story about a young man who occasionally goes invisible without warning, beyond his control. Or musings on a possible memoir, focusing on how books shaped my life. And there’s still that unfinished draft of the time-travel novel, waiting in the wings. I desperately want to write and finish all of these things, and yet when I pick any one of them up, I quickly lose interest, or become mentally constipated. What’s going on?

Maybe it’s the restlessness of spring after a long winter, preferring to be out in the warm sunshine rather than holed up with the work of organizing my muddled thoughts. Maybe it’s the deep crisis of confidence I’ve been experiencing lately, the source of which I can’t pinpoint–every word I write screams wrongness, or worse, futility. Maybe it’s the turmoil of pre-menopause: I’m transforming into some mid-life beast that terrifies me, the physical and emotional throes of which keep me from finishing anything. Maybe I’m just really enjoying writing book and movie reviews on my new blog. Maybe that’s simply what I’m supposed to be doing right now, until I can settle down and focus on other writing. But I know I’ll eventually want to do something else, to write my own stories again.

I’ve always tried to wrestle my writing routines into some sort of discipline, because that’s what writers need to do, right? And I do, for the most part–I make sure I sit down with the notebook or in front of the computer screen on a regular basis to write. But I tend to flit from project to project, like a bee gathering pollen, a little here, a little there, with the result of feeling like I never finish anything. It’s a bit depressing.

It’s not true, of course; I have many short stories and countless blog posts that prove otherwise. I also have a lot of unfinished stuff, and ideas floating around like spores. But I think that’s true of most writers. I’m sure there are many out there whose routines are such that they finish the project they’re working on–write, rewrite, edit, polish, seek beta readers, rewrite again, query, send out for publication– before they move onto another. All very orderly. I envy them. But for some, I’m sure, it’s a messier process. We’re creatives, after all; creativity can be messy.

I suppose the point of this post is to remind myself–and maybe some others–to keep going. Just keep writing, no matter where you are in the process (or in your life), no matter what your routine. Keep dipping your toe into that big well of creativity, and something will come to fruition. Or, to stay with my rather clumsy spring metaphor, keep pollinating and something will eventually bloom.

 

 

 

Writer Beware

warning sign

Okay, writer friends, this one’s for you.

I recently received an unsolicited email from a purported small press called Z Publishing, with an “invitation to submit” some of my stories. Apparently they’d come across my blog site and felt they were good enough to include in an “Emerging Writers” anthology. There was no fee for submitting, and after a “careful review” of all the submissions, they’d let me know if one of my stories made it into the anthology.

Sounds great, right? It’s a beginning writer’s (or unpublished writer’s) dream: just post some of your work on your blog, sit back, and wait for the offers of publication to roll in. No work involved! And what a great ego booster–handpicked out of all the thousands of bloggers and writers on the web. After a few minutes of feeling really special, suspicion crept in. Luckily, I wasn’t born yesterday. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

I kept reading. Red flags began to appear. Don’t worry, they said, about 80% of submitted work makes it into the anthology. (Really? Huh.) By the way, there is no payment for writers who submit. (A-ha!) Unfortunately, they’re such a small press and still trying to grow, that they cannot compensate contributors yet. Oh, you can become an affiliate and advertise the anthology on your social media and get a certain percentage of sales…sales that probably are only going to be made by your small circle of family and friends, since the anthology will never see the light of day anywhere else.

So…you can’t pay me, I have to buy the anthology if I want a print copy (otherwise I get a PDF), and I have to market it for you, while you pocket the majority of any income. Hmmm…It’s all starting to become crystal clear to me.

But look what’s in it for you! they go on. The all-important “exposure” element. An invite to our private Facebook group. And we nominate our favorite writings for the Pushcart Prize! (Pushcart, huh?)

By now my ego has been totally deflated, and I’m dripping with sarcasm. And not a little anger. I googled Z Publishing and came across an article that just confirmed my suspicions: it’s one of the many new faces of writing scams under an old trick–vanity anthologies. I knew enough to be suspicious, but some new writers may not, and will fall for this scam, giving their work away for no reward.

Writer friends, I know you’re smarter than that, but just in case–please beware of vanity publishing. If you want to be published, work hard and submit to reputable publishing houses. Read the fine print. And NEVER give away your writing for others to profit off of. You’re better than that, and so am I.

New Venture

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If you’re at all familiar with this blog, you’ll know that I LOVE books, movies, and television. Enjoying other people’s stories is a big part of my life, almost as much as, if not more than, my own writing. I’ve written quite a few book, film and TV reviews for this blog (you can find them under the appropriate categories to the right), and I love doing them.

The problem is, I’ve read in several different places that writing reviews does absolutely nothing for strengthening your writer platform. I get it: you may be drawing readers who also love books and film, but you’re not necessarily drawing in readers for your fiction. The proof is in the numbers: after nearly three years of fairly regular blogging, I’ve snagged a paltry 160 followers. I never dared hope for thousands, but I did hope to get a few more than that. I know it takes time and perseverance for a blog to grow, but I do think there’s room for improvement.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and feel that perhaps the problem is that the blog is too broad–I dump everything in it. Reviews, personal stuff, essays on whatever, as well as my own fiction. I’ve already created another blog for my personal musings on my experiences raising a child with spina bifida (Beautiful Detour )–but I feel I probably need to focus further.

I’ve read various quotes from several different sources claiming that if you want to write, you someday have to stop reading other people’s stories (at least for a time) and write your own. It makes sense. Here’s the thing: I don’t think I can. I’m a bit obsessive about reading books and watching movies and TV. It’s a big part of who I am. I’ve often felt conflicted between the two and pulled in different directions. Am I a writer, or mostly a lover of writing? At this point in my life, with only so much time, I feel I need to choose, and be done with it. The truth is, I can’t.

So I finally come to the point of this post, which is that I’ve created yet another blog, called Page and Screen. In it, I will exclusively write book, film, and TV reviews to my heart’s content, simply because I love to do it. If you care to do so, and are at all interested in my opinions on other people’s stories, please click the link and follow it. If not, that’s okay, too.

Don’t worry, I’ll still write my own stories. I’m far less organized and have no clear plan concerning my fiction, but I can’t imagine giving it up completely. My Writing Journey will remain the home for my musings on the writing life, as well as the occasional personal essay, story or snippet, and other things (things I haven’t quite figured out yet) to increase my fiction writing platform.

So, three blogs? Call me crazy, but yes, I love it, and I’m so grateful for this unique way of exploring my interests and passions.