Dawn seemed to rise earlier than normal the other day. The rising sun illuminated a flock of turkeys that were grazing in my front yard and congregating in my driveway. They were gathered five feet from my dining room window. The window my dog monitors all day, and apparently the wee hours of the morning as well. I was alerted to them, from my cocoon of cozy blankets and quilts, with him barking his fool head off for what seemed like an eternity. As I rolled over, I noticed my cat sitting in the window that overlooked the driveway. He looked at me and then outside and meowed his “I’m hunting birds” meow. Curiosity finally got to me, and I left the warm confines of slumber and staggered sleepily to the window and looked out. My eyes widened, I had never seen the flock so close to the house and being able to observe them so closely would have been more interesting if I hadn’t been half asleep. My bed beckoned me back to its warmth and snugness, and after telling my dog to be quiet, I returned to it and went back to sleep. Later, when I went downstairs to start my morning officially, I found my dog sound asleep on his bed in the kitchen. Evidently, his morning had left him as exhausted as I was and even the temptation of going outside failed to rouse him from his slumber. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and sat at the table and waited for him to wake up before we could start our day.
Happy first day of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo)! Today I take the hand of my main character and let her guide me through her story. I have a basic idea of where the path will lead but have no clue where it will end up and that is part of the excitement of NaNoWriMo. Taking that first step on a journey of imagination and creation and seeing where it takes me.
Today I started taking the numerous story ideas I have in my head and bringing them into the real world. I bought a three-ring binder and some lined paper and am writing down my thoughts and relevant notes about them. The plan is to have each story be a section in the binder with a hard copy of the finished piece, lists of where I’ve submitted them, and other information. I just had a question I was curious about. How do you organize your stories? Are they all on computers or do you like having hard copies as I do? Also, if any of you have other ideas about my binder system you think might help me and would like to share them, it would be much appreciated. I feel like I have jumped two-footed into this whole writing adventure and am trying to stay as organized as I can.
One week until National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) starts. I’ve been planning and plotting this year’s project for about six months now. It all started when I was sick with bronchitis and had a dream of a girl in a white nightgown floating down a pathway into a deeply wooded area. That floating girl was the planetary core of my new world. Since then the dust of creativity in my brain has coalesced and blown apart numerous times until I have a fairly solid handle on characters, plotline, outline, and overall synopsis. Of course now that image of the levitating girl is only one tiny fraction of the entire story that has created itself but it’s still an essential image in my book. If you have never heard of NaNoWriMo, the concept is as easy as it is hard. Write a 50,000 word novel or beginning of a story during November. It boils down to around 1,667 words a day. It is daunting, nervewracking, but ultimately exciting to see what you can create in a month’s time.
My surgery went very smoothly. I’m already experiencing less tingling and numbness in my hand which has been awesome. The pain is already minimal as well. Thanks for all the good vibes. 💐💐
On September 26, 2018, I published a post about a poetry contest I was interested in entering. I expressed feeling a great deal of self-doubt about my talent and ability to produce an entry worthy of submitting into the contest. After receiving several messages of encouragement, I decided to throw my hat into the ring, and I entered my poem into the competition. Now, as with all contests, the waiting begins. I will find out either way by the end of December whether or not I placed or not. Fingers crossed.
Greetings Morning Glories,
You may have noticed I haven’t been posting on a regular basis during the past week or so. I’m getting ready to have carpal tunnel surgery on my left wrist, so I’ve been busy getting last minute projects done in anticipation of only having one good hand for several weeks. I had my right wrist operated on in 2016, it was an instant success, but taking care of my mother with one hand proved to be very difficult, so I’ve been putting off having the left one done. As a result, now my left hand is always numb and tingling, and even though my anxiety over having surgery (even minor such as this) is through the roof, I am looking forward to finding relief from these symptoms. I’ll try to post a few more times before the big day next week and then take some time off to recover.
There is this poetry contest I was excited to enter. I had this wonderful idea for a poem and have been tweaking it for weeks now. As the deadline looms; however, I’ve found my enthusiasm waning and self-doubt rearing its ugly head. Does this happen to other writers? Have any of you decided to enter a contest or submit something to a publication only to experience these feelings? I keep telling myself that my work has just as much of a chance as anyone else. And I’ll never know unless I try and multiple other platitudes that sound as hollow as a ping-pong ball. Over the past few days, it’s been amazing how many ways I’ve found to not work on the poem. The deadline is October 1st, it’s creeping up so quickly and the apathy I’ve developed towards working on it has been astonishing. I want to put my writing out there. I want as many people as possible to see my work but I’m questioning my own work like it’s out to get me. I also know that a big part of being a writer is being able to handle rejection. Rationally I know how most of what I submit won’t be accepted. But it’s always that self-doubt isn’t it? That lingering fear of what I put forth won’t be good enough. The countdown continues and the poem remains unfinished. I’ll keep you posted on what happens.
My dog is malfunctioning
I’ve noticed it outside
I don’t know how to describe it
Or if it can be classified.
I throw him the ball, and he runs
And catches up with it.
And then instead of bringing it back
He plops his butt down and sits.
He never brings the ball back
It’s a skill he sorely lacks.
While I’m running back and forth
He just seems to relax.
So it’s time to face the facts folks
Denial cannot be spoken
The poodle in him works just fine
But the retriever is definitely broken.
Is too mild a term
For what I have.
I have a writer’s
Great Wall of China
Twisting and turning
Through my brain
With no way around or
I just stand in
Looking one way and
Viewing the same scene