There’s no coasting on this ride…

“Life is a rollercoaster”… how cliche.

Seriously? I see no coasting. It’s frickin’ up and down…way the hell up and down. At least it isn’t the pits, right? At least I have optimism and wit so I enjoy the ups. And I have the fortitude to deal with the pitfalls. I do wonder…will I be giddy and flush with adrenaline at the end of the ride? Or will I wobble off on shaky legs and puke?

For example…here’s what this week has been like:

Monday = meh.

Mondays are my least favorite day of the week. I’m not a morning person. Meetings? (Sigh)…reserving blocks of time that I can’t call my own feels like a loss of freedom.

Mondays (ick) + mornings (yawn) + meetings (confinement) = general yuck.
On the flip side – I’m glad to be alive to experience Mondays.

Tuesday = good.

Wednesday = holy shit.

Wednesday’s aren’t supposed to be like this.

4:00 a.m. – Dog goes apeshit at something outside. Upon investigation: Oh, it’s just a man sprinting across the yard (into the bush), across the driveway and around the corner. Plus three guys walking down the sidewalk. Close the door, twist the lock, back to bed.

4:05 a.m. – Sirens, more barking, flashing lights through the window. The cop outside, who drew not only his flashlight (intent to blind?) but also a loaded gun, barks at my husband (as loud as the dog), “Get back in your house!” Mmmkay. Close the door, twist the lock, go to the window, watch police surround the house across the street.

4:30 a.m. – More sirens and flashy lights, what’s that “womp womp womp” sound? Ever the optimist, I think that the helicopter can’t be part of the police activities outside my window.

8:00 a.m. – Phone rings. A recording from the city alerts me of a search underway in my area. If I should happen to see a 6-foot tall, 180-pound, Hispanic male wearing a black shirt and orange shorts, I shouldn’t try to engage him in conversation. Instead I should call 9-1-1. As if I would say, “Hey, you’re the guy who ran through my yard at 4 am. Maybe if you waited until daylight you wouldn’t have run into the bush.”

On my way to work, I see cops ev-er-y where. Call my Dad – he says more helicopters are coming. Plus dogs. It’s a manhunt. I’m goin’ to work because I’m pretty sure black and orange shorts dude won’t be there.

10 a.m. – A local television network van is outside my house. News woman is  talking to neighbors. Neighbors are nice. Even the one who, with a baseball bat, hit the black and orange runner.

Major League action next door. Turns out that the running halloween clothed  guy tried to break into my neighbor’s house. He happened to be my neighbor’s daughter’s ex-boyfriend and was met with a bat-wielding Spaniard. Oh and the pumpkin shorts runner is on parole with a long list of previous violations. Grrrreaaaaat. Police units from surrounding cities join the hunt for Mr. Jack -O-Lantern pants. They catch the him in the afternoon.

In other news – my new laptop falls on the tiled floor, battery immediately dies. On the upside, it recovers so I can Google the crime in my ‘hood. And my son says, “I didn’t choose the thug life. it chose me.” I have to chuckle.

Seriously? Can Thursday or Friday come even slightly close to what happened on Wednesday?

Thursday = Started awesome and finished average

Walk into work – big boss asks to talk to me in private (uh oh). Then gives me  a surprise spot bonus (hot damn that’s awesome)!

Super-busy preparing for a last-minute presentation, friend stops by my desk to tell me I’ve been looking tired and stressed (oh, thanks man). Another friend gives me homemade lavendar prickly pear syrup. Yummy.

Run late for my son’s football game 😦  but he gets to play almost the entire game and does great! 😀  Then it rains during the game (ugh). Stress about what to wear for my presentation but find something that works. 🙂

Friday – idontevenknowwhattothink

8 a.m. – Find out my iTunes account is being accessed by 3 “unauthorized” users who recently bought $160 worth of movies. I de-authorize everyone, change passwords. On the bright side, one of the movies they bought is one I’ve been wanting to see. It’s playing as I type this. Robert Downey Jr. rocks.

Drive to work, get Starbucks on the way. Yum. Park the car…trunk won’t open. Doors won’t lock. Keyless fail? Oh yeah…and worse. The car is pretty much dead. I gotta do my presentation though.

11 a.m. – Presentation rocks. I get a boxed lunch. Free food rocks.  🙂

12:30 p.m. – Car is still dead. Dealership and warranty people give me the runaround. They suck. So I pay them a personal visit. After escalating, I get help. Four hours later, my lunch is no longer edible.

6:30 pm – Son scores tickets to the Red Hot Chili Peppers concert (hot frickin’ damn)!

6:31 pm – Dealership calls – they can’t replicate the issue. Need to get my car by 9 pm. Hope the 2nd new battery solves everything. (Got a new battery 2 weeks ago and today the new battery, electrical, ignition – everything – stops working …hmmmmm). Plus I was charged $71 for a tow that never happened.

6:50 p.m. – Dealer calls again:  “Sorry, we’re closing early (in 10 minutes).” Wait till tomorrow to get my car.

7:00 p.m. – Concert tickets in hand (thank you, Lee)! Seats = SUITES (plus parking pass) – thank you, Mayra!

…to be continued. Saturdays and Sundays usually close the week strong.

Writing in the New Year

So far this year, I’ve been consistent. No resolutions…but no writing yet either. Same as last year.

This must change.

http://www.soupforu.wordpress.com

What I have been doing is working on my new blog, Soup For U (hey, it’s not a shameless plug, it’s the truth)! And it’s been fun. I believe that sometimes you have to be creative in other ways to get the writing juices flowing. So I’ve been working on that blog and I’ve been knitting like crazy and with both of those comes taking photos of whatever I’m making. I’m actually considering taking a photography class.

I’m procrastinating, I know. Procrastination is the supreme enabler for writer’s block. Or vice versa.

I could cheat and say that those little descriptive paragraphs about the dishes I’m making could be considered writing, right? Yeh…who am I fooling?

What I really want to know from you is whether or not you’ve committed to a new year’s resolution to write. If so, how are you managing it?

Lemme know. In the meantime, feel free to check out my new blog, Soup For U (yes…that’s a shameless plug)!

Well, Hello 2011, Here’s Soup for You!

It’s the New Year!

Nothing like stating the obvious, right?! But, hey, I wanted to let you know that I’m still writing away. I’ve started a new site, although totally unrelated to writing (except that posts still need to be written), it’s pretty cool and it’s a collaborative site between me and my family.

The site is called, Soup for You! and it offers recipes. I’m not really a foodie in as much as any human who eats isn’t. That’s to say that I don’t consider food a passion. It’s more a necessity. BUT – I do consider great recipes important and I when I cook, I like to make dishes that my family loves.

Anyway – go check out the site and try a recipe or two. I will caution you, though, my sister and I have only added 3 recipes. We’ll add more, though! Really! I promise! We cook all the time (we just don’t always take photos of what we cook and that’s a prerequisite for a recipe to be posted). We’ll get there though. Keep checking!

National Noveling Right Now

National Novel Writing Month = Now.

I’m writing.

Daily.

Furiously.

Sometimes wearily.

But most times, I start and find myself quickly my daily required word count. And then some.

This year, and for the first time in 4 years, I have a clear vision for my novel. I’m inspired by what I hope it will do – how it will help others. This hope keeps me going. I’ve been thinking about this novel for over a year…it’s been one hard year. I’ve learned so much and I want to give my experience away so that others can learn from it.

I’m 16,000 words into it. I wonder if I have 34,000 words left in me. But this year, it won’t quite matter if I hit 50,000 words…as long as I get the story out and as long as I do something with it, I will feel I’ve accomplished my NaNoWriMo mission.

Are you on a writing mission? If so, share it – for no other reason than how it will make you feel. 🙂

Fond

I just read my last post – “Absence Makes the Writing Beast Grow Fonder” and realize that if it were true, then the writing beast must be very fond indeed. I haven’t posted since May – end of May mind you – and that’s just too long.

It’s August for crying out loud! And I haven’t written like I’ve wanted. Sometimes life gets in the way (what an excuse, you say!). Actually, I need to write what I have been living…or should I?

Absence makes the writing beast grow fonder

I haven’t posted in quite a while. I could make excuses and say that I haven’t posted because I’ve been true to my “Zenplicity” post.

But that would be an “untruth.”

I could say that I made a conscious decision to “focus my priorities.” That wouldn’t be an accurate statement.

I could say I’ve been working too hard, slacking off, lazing around, suffering from writer’s block, fixing a twice broken power supply…all excuses (though some frustratingly true).

Suffice to say that while life has gotten complicated and messy, some things have gone by the wayside. One of those things is this blog.

Although left “undone,” I’ve certainly not forgotten. I’ve thought of blogging – specifically, WRITING – in these weeks. I finally feel I have something to write about.

Oh my gosh I suck

I just looked at my last blog post, dated February 8.

My first thought…“Oh my gosh, I suck at blogging.”

Second thought….“Damnit, I suck at writing.”

Feels good to get that off my chest and out of my head.

I guess I needed a break. Or guilt finally caught up to me. Or, better…the urge to write has grown from a soft tap on the shoulder to a gut-pulling monster. And I had to get the little beastie out or else I’d continue to be plagued by guilt and this weird feeling that I should be doing something more.

I imagine that people who are clean freaks get this urge to clean. I wouldn’t know…I’m not a clean freak; I’m just clean enough. Or perhaps it’s what singers feel right before they bust out in song.

All I can tell you is that it feels good to sit down and write. Fingers on the keyboard. Words musing around in my head. And, lucky you – it’s spilling into this blog. I can’t think of a better place to start. Afterall, the act of blogging can be a good place to start. Depending on the topic and purpose of your blog of course. Since mine is about writing and words, it’s a great place to start.

Seized by the Writing Beast

But, so you don’t think this post is a random dump of disconnected thoughts, I will give you this advice: sometimes you have to stew on things until the writing beast seizes you by the throat (or gut) and shakes the words out of you. You let the absent writer “guilt” bottle up until it spills over – and then you find you’re ready to quiet your mind and let the words do what they do…they fall out onto the page and as they fall, you exhale all that creative energy. And what’s left is a marvelous thing – yourself on the page.

So maybe I don’t suck, after all. And if I don’t, you don’t. But tell me, how do you deal with your writing guilt?

We Are What We Experience

What was your first memory? Take a moment to think way back. For some of us, that “way back” will take a couple of moments longer than for others.

Mine is a memory of a hospital stay. I believe I was four years old and my Dad was holding me at the nurse’s station. I remember a foot-high gumdrop tree perched on the counter of the station – the sugar crystals glistening in the florescent lights. My head was cradled on my Dad’s shoulder as he swayed back and forth, rocking me to sleep.  

The crystalline sparkles of the gumdrops grew hazy as my heavy eyelids blurred my focus. A deep cramp followed by a burning heat between my legs would jar me awake – the painful call of needing to go to the bathroom. I would tense, wince and cry until the pain was gone. Then the cycle would start over until an operation would finally provide relief. To this day – hospitals don’t scare me. Nurses and needles don’t frighten me. An oncoming UTI, though, means sheer terror.

From that experience, I learned about the comfort a parent can give a child in even the most painful of times. And I learned that our level of tolerance for what life presents expands based on what we experience. At the early age of four, this one experience would be the basis for exponential growth and development. At any early age, for most of us, our experiences will shape how we perceive the world.

And so it is with writing.

Writing is experiential.

If you expect to be known as a writer, you first have to write. Common sense tells you that, right? But to only write isn’t enough. To grow as a writer, you have to share your writing or at least let your experiences shape your writing. How will you know you suck at character development but excel at building plot? You gotta try.

You are Your Worst Critic. So, Share.

Many artists I know are hyper-sensitive and hyper-critical of their own work. “We are our own worst critic” is true and we know it. And edit and refine as much as we do, we become our worst enemy when we let apprehension and negativity consume our thoughts.

The cure?

If I knew the cure, I’d be making millions. In the absence of a cure, I offer a remedy:  SHARE.

What we create – art, music, novels, articles, photography, video, sculptures – is subjective. While we may loathe what we’ve created, someone in the world will appreciate it. The difference between a New York Times Best Seller and the novel in your drawer is the process of discovery. Your piece of art is a masterpiece waiting to be discovered by the right audience. To make it available, you have to let it go.  You have to share it – and that may make you cringe but do share it anyway.

Zenplicity – a new approach to life and writing

Out with the old, in the with the new. Ironic, isn’t it, that this is an “old” adage but not one that we should toss aside.

The past couple of weeks have been a blur, as they always are – every year, without fail. I find myself caught in the retail frenzy, holiday party madness – a whirling dervish of festivity.

And like most major events, a quiet descends after the hullaballoo. It’s this quiet time that I cherish and find productive. After we usher in the new year, all sparkling and shining with hope. After we say our goodbyes to the old year and all the memories – the good and the bad, the hollow and fulfilling, the happiness and sadness. We physically sort gifts into their proper spots, we mentally file away what we learned and experienced.

Fresh in the calm after the storm, I relish a new perspective – of simplicity and release.

It’s simple to think how much control we have over ourselves – how we think and feel. It’s complicated when we try to exert some sort of control over anyone else. Better to realize that we have no control over what people do, say, think, and feel. We can influence, guide, counsel, advise, hope and pray…but we can’t control what happens in anyone else’s world but our own.  With this view, I’ve come to release myself from the burden of control over others.

With this release, I can focus on what I can do, think, say, and feel. The power of simplicity, I’m hoping, will quell the chaotic, anxious thoughts that bounce around between my ears and keep me from doing the things I love – writing, creating, learning.

I hope that this simplicity will quiet my mind and conscience and open a new approach to writing. A zen approach to writing and to life – a sort of “zenplicity” if you will.