Existing in Holiday Limbo

Tags

family, holidays, thoughts, writing

Happy Memorial Day!

The kids are home from school. The hubs is not going to work.

Ummmmm …

I work really well … alone. I am the boss. I can choose what to do.

When everyone is home, it throws off my equilibrium. There are people in my workout space. Do you think they’ll need to eat and think I will make them food? I suppose my hubs will want me to help him with some project.

I want to sit and write.

So today, I solemnly swear to do what I want – what I need to do –  to get through this WIP, to climb closer to my dreams … all while not ignoring my family. Well, not ALL day.

My quiet days at home will end soon. *red alert* Going to Defcon 3 … seven days of school left. Seven. *holds in my tears*

Anyone else out there struck in limbo? Anyone else panic when life’s routine is thrown off course? Anyone?

Will you hold my hand?

A Magical … and a Bit Creepy… Short Story

Tags

Believing, demons, fae, fantasy, fiction, ghosts, Guillermo del Toro, stories, thoughts, writing

My short story ‘The Day after I Died’ is now complete and posted – please check out all three parts in my menu at the top.

*bows* Thank you!

This story was my attempt at a bit of humor mixed with my favorite kind of weird … demon, faeries, or whatever you want to name it.

I believe in that stuff. Ghosts, demons, faeries, angels, and the other generally unexplainable exists behind a veil that most people’s limited vision can’t penetrate. All there and all the same, just given different names. Each person, who comes in contact with that other side, experiences something different. The person dying might witness an angel because they need comfort. Someone who is scared out of their mind will call it demon or ghost. Faerie isn’t a term as widely used anymore *points to my sad face*. But they’re there too … I recommend Guillermo del Toro’s movies ‘Pan’s Labyrinth’  or ‘Don’t be Afraid of the Dark’ for truly creepy fae.

Some people out there in the world, can see them. No not me. (I know! So depressing.) Some people are born with the gift and others gain it. When you die, I believe the veil lifts allowing you to SEE … all questions are answered, everything becomes known. So, when you die and are brought back, thanks to medical genuis, the veil remains gone.

I’ve watched ‘A Haunting’ on TV for years. I’ve seen ‘Paranormal Witness’. Encounters with these things from beyond don’t always go well, but I want my own experience. I want to see!

In my story, Beck dies, but is saved. Yea! Maybe. Now the veil has lifted for him. What is the thing he chases wildly through the city in his hospital gown? Demon? Faerie? Angel?

Anyone ever see a ghost? Anyone want to? Anyone think I’m crazy? *yells at hubs to put his hand down* *laughs* I’m not crazy.

The Magic of Teenagers

Tags

change, faith, fear, hope, individuality, life, self doubt, teenagers, thoughts

I know. I know. What in the world can I possibly find magical about teenagers? But hang with me for a sec.

To say I hated being a teen would be a nice way of putting it. Really, being the awkward, quiet, weird kid, cowering at the back of the class trying to disappear, wasn’t ever a goal of mine, I was really good at it though. Serious self-doubt and low self-esteem … yes, that was (and still is) me. Kids called me names. I was certain there was something wrong with me. Why didn’t that portal open up and take me somewhere I truly belonged?

No, don’t blow up the balloons for the pity party! That’s just how it was.

Being a teenager sucks – standing at the edge of the cliff of life, gazing out at the world wondering how in the world you’ll find a spot in the chaos. To choose what to be, who to be. Teens face the biggest questions of life, their brains having no idea what to do with those questions. So teens try to find a voice, find themselves. In their search for independence, there will be eye-rolling and ‘attitude’ (a word a have a deep hatred of). Why do they stomp off and slam doors? Because they have no idea how to express the emotions in their spinning heads. They are trying to form their own opinions, say what’s on their minds, live life their own way, because they don’t want to be told what to do or how to think – and who does? They need to discover what works and what doesn’t on their own. Hello, mistakes! What a perfect time to make them! When parents are there to offer a helping hand and say, “Oops. Maybe try something different next time.” By the time they venture out into the world, they’ll be ready.

However, we adults might not.

Sending kids out into the world is scary. What if they make bad choices, end up falling into darkness? This fear can lead to control. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about rules. Rules are different, rules are good. Control … telling them how to live. Encourage them to find their own way, because let’s be honest, we want then to move out! And never move back in! Surviving mistakes will give them confidence. Teach them to love themselves even though they make mistakes, even though they don’t fit in at school, because in the end we are who we are, and, maybe, not fitting in was just right. It was for me. If I had the chance to go back and tell teenage-me that being weird was okay, no better than okay … it was PERFECT, I wouldn’t go. One, I wouldn’t believe me being an obvious evil clone or shape-shifting alien. Two, being that girl brought me here and I LOVE it here. In the end we need to learn to accept ourselves and that takes time.

Being a parent isn’t about control. It’s about encouragement. It’s about acceptance. When they slam the door and roll their eyes, celebrate their need to be themselves and help them express their emotions. Don’t fear what the world will do to your child. Be excited about what your child can do for the world.

Being a teen isn’t about fitting in and being perfect. It’s about facing fear and finding a voice, which takes time, a bit of magic, and a lot of believing.

I write this because of my teen friends, past and present whose houses are filled with yelling. I wish I could change it with a wave of my magic wand. However, I promise to help you find the power to make your lives better. I dedicate this to the teens who think no one cares because no one listens. I honor all the parents who go day by day, trying to understand, to accept, but feel on the verge of running away. All families are different, all kids are different. My wish is for everyone to find the way life works best and live it fully. Life truly is magic, don’t let it get buried under frustration and unhappiness.

What can you do to make your life better? Or maybe the life of someone else.

 

The Magic of Moms

Tags

childhood, kids, magic, Mothers, thoughts

Mother’s Day.

We remember those marvelous women who flashed the porch light on and off to tell us to come in, who told us that you probably need stitches except it’s just a knee, who cheered for you at ball games, but had no idea what was going on (and couldn’t catch a ball to save her life), who passed out when the doctor took care of a nasty sty by jabbing a shiny, sharp object at a screaming child’s eye, who made sure the Easter Bunny gave everyone the exact same amount of jelly beans, who made me eat a pile of peas and my little sister only had to eat seven … seven peas … seriously?

*ahem*

Sorry, got carried away … possibly that was just my experience.

Really, though, my mom is the best. She got us everywhere we needed to be, signed us up for all the things so we could see what we liked, and what we didn’t. And while still being a great mom, she has become the bestest grandma ever.

Because I’m the mom. Wait. What? Granted, this happened a while ago. My son turns 13 this summer and my daughter turns 12. Yes, that does make me feel a little old, thanks for asking. And even though I have been answering to those wonderful voices screaming “MOM!” around the house for all these years, there are moments when the idea of me being someone’s mom just freaks me out.

Don’t get me wrong. Being a mom is one of the things I think I do well. That three inch button pinned to my purse that says “#1 Mom” says it all. I sign my two kids up for all the things they want, I get them there, I volunteer at school (and they still say hi to me), we play video games, catch, and volleyball, and have moments of general silliness (who doesn’t). I tell them they’re awesome everyday. And they roll their eyes. Just as it should be.

When they move out and begin lives of their own, I hope they think fondly of me as a mom. I hope they look back and smile, remembering me cheering for their sports teams, telling them that, no, we’re not having marshmallows for lunch, encouraging them to be happy being themselves, taking them to the movies, laughing when they drop a bowl of ice cream on the floor as ceramic pieces skitter across the tile, accepting my obsession with Harry Potter and everything weird and scary, and appreciating my generous helpings of sarcasm.

I may never fully embrace the strange concept of being a mom, but I have risen to the challenge with the greatness of mediocrity. My kids are awesome. I’d like to think I had something to do with that. Really I hope I don’t warp their minds … too much.

This year to celebrate me, we went to see a movie, my daughter baked me a cake (chocolate!), and there were cards full of wonderful words. Of course, I sent my mom a card wrapped up in love because without her, I wouldn’t be me. Maybe, if I’m lucky some of the best parts of me will continue on in my kids.

Yet, those moments will return when I marvel at the whole idea of me as a mom. Cause it’s strange. I’ll do the best I can, but can’t promise not to casually say, “Mom ran away …” every once in a while.

How do you celebrate your mom, grandma, or anyone who helped take you from childhood into adulthood (or whatever it is we have become, honestly I refuse to grow up)? Anyone else struck by the weirdness of parenthood?

 

 

Short Story Magic

Tags

acceptance, fun, reading, rejection, short stories, thoughts, writing, writing contests

I like short stories.

I read them because they’re fun. I especially like the stories that hit me like an episode of the Twilight Zone, leaving a bit of strange in my brain or feelings in my heart. Ones that change me. Novels can do that too, but with shorts it’s more of a … BAM!

I started writing shorts to acquire publishing credits. Ten years ago, when I began typing words, e-books were not everywhere, you could submit to bigger publishers, and having publishing credits in your query was good and that letter to the editor I wrote just wouldn’t cut it. Overall, the idea of needing to be published to get published seemed a little crazy to me and I feared my head would explode, still do, but I pushed on. I wrote a couple of short stories and sent them to Writer’s Digest Short Story Competition. And I received an honorable mention (meaning I finished somewhere between 11 and 100). Yea for me! Holy moly! Maybe I can do this writer thing.

But writing shorts taught me something I hadn’t expected. The contest had word limits. I had to pick and choose what words were really necessary for the story. I learned to cut, delete, say good-bye to the needless ramblings I love so much. That doesn’t mean I don’t write too many words all the time, it just means that I know I do it and will at some point recognize it and throw them away.

I kept at this short story thing and entered more. Some didn’t do anything, but I won another honorable mention. Not quite as thrilling as the first, but good for me. I took one of the stories that hadn’t placed, rewrote it, and sent it to a magazine. And it was accepted. Possibly you heard me scream in joy. Although the honorable mentions were fun, I had a desire to see my name listed in the magazine in the top ten list. I entered one final time and my story placed ninth. Mission complete.

Last fall I entered the ProjectReutsway competition and had SO MUCH FUN! Deadlines and frantic writing and rewriting made me all warm and fuzzy. All the friends I discovered being the icing on the cake. Two of my four stories won their place in the upcoming anthology from Reuts publishers. One will be featured on their ProjectReutsway runner-up tour on their blog (found each Thursday). The final story, I rewrote, with a little help from a fabulous CP, and sent to a magazine. Now I wait.

But because I have this blog, which can’t reject me, I have been dying to share what I write (good or bad), I added a page, a sample of what I do. My YA fantasy/humor The Day after I Died, Part 1 is a new addition to the menu. Check it out. Tell me what you think. Good or bad, I love all comments. Hopefully it leaves a bit of weird in your head and laughter in your heart.

Short stories carry their own magic. For writers we have less words to create a world or characters, to hold a reader’s attention and give that reader something entertaining. I learned a lot writing shorts and have become attached to reading them. I love Stephen King’s shorts and get my fix of twisted fairy tales each Thursday at Reuts publishers blog.

Anyone else out there like short stories? Writing them? Reading them? Or both?

Magic of Support

Tags

friends, magic, support, thoughts, Twitter, writer's group, writing

All artists, whether we paint with words, colors, or sounds need support from other artists, from those who understand what it’s like to have images and characters and melodies drifting through our minds.

When I speak of what I’m writing, when my voice rises to a fever pitch as I dive into what is exciting or frustrating … my hubs expression goes blank, his eyes glaze over, he reaches for his phone. So I stop talking. Art is a solitary experience. So much of it happens in the dark corners of our minds. Non-artists don’t understand and many of them just don’t want to. When I first started writing, almost ten years ago, I didn’t have any idea that this I-love-to-be-alone-please-don’t-make-me-interact-with-people girl would someday NEED people. But it happened.

I have a wonderful writer’s group … The Summit City Scribes. When I was invited to a meeting, I was scared. I knew these writers would be able to spot a big, old fraud. I wrote words, but I wasn’t a writer. I went because I knew it was time for feedback, for comments, no matter how it might hurt. The thing is, it didn’t hurt, it helped. I grew as a writer. I found friends to talk about writing and THEY TALKED BACK WITH EXCITEMENT! Bingo! Simply magical.

To my Scribes friends … THANK YOU! I love getting together with all of you. 🙂  You have made me a better and happier me.

Through my Critique group, I learned how every writer needs social media to be able to promote themselves. Uuuuummmm … great, I have nothing to promote. Hello, just me. Technologically challenged, I was leery. I joined Twitter about two years ago, clueless. As I tiptoed through the tweets, I finally figured it out. I could make writer friends without leaving my comfy pants or house! THIS IS BRILLIANT! Suddenly, I was interacting with other writers. I was entering pitch contests, sharing all my frustration and nerves with SO MANY OTHERS! Everyone understood. I had found my people – and I didn’t have to find a portal to another universe to get there.

But it’s more. Have a bad day writing? Twitter friends will cheer you up. Panic sets in because of queries? Twitter friends will send you chocolate. Don’t want to look at those words you wrote yesterday certain they suck? Twitter friends will pat you on the back and say, “So what? Words sometimes suck, but you can make them better!” I have met so many writers who are willing to swap queries and pages, and stories, offering great critiques. I have found CPs (critique partners), who are so great! When I need to share my worries or triumphs, I go to Twitter. Someone is always there. I just hope that I am doing my part. That I am one to help spread the understanding, the good feelings, and I pray that my critiques measure up to the ones I have received. Twitter has saved my sanity. That sounds … well, weird, but it’s true.

To all my Twitter friends … THANK YOU! I couldn’t live each day without you. You mean so much. 🙂

I am happy to be a part of the marvelous world of writers in my critique group and my Twitterverse! Where is your support? Are you twittering or in a group? Could you live without it?

Not me. Magic is real. It lives in our peers, in ourselves. SPREAD THE MAGIC!

Believing is the Magic

Tags

Believing, deadlines, dreams, Supporting others, thoughts, writing

“Why, Bryndel?” Her ma’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Why should I believe?”

Bryn turned and gazed at her ma. A woman, a person.

“Believing is the magic.”

The final words of my WIP ‘Doors’! Last time I dropped in, I had five chapters left to revise, and I had given myself a deadline, the end of April.

I finished on the first day of May. I missed my deadline … and I’m okay with that! I set the goal to get my butt in the chair and words on the screen. And that’s what I did. Real life came along. Tis the season for baseball and softball practices. My hubs was home looking to actually spend time with me. So I set aside my words for the family. But I went back! I didn’t give up! And I’m going to take myself to a movie to celebrate. The Quiet Ones. I know … that scary stuff again.

Now … I have a page of scribbled notes, thoughts of what I missed or little holes I want to fill. But not today. I am setting the ms aside for a week. I have been submerged in the words for a while and I need a break. “Let the eyebrows grow back” as my fabulous CP Elsie Elmore would say … http://elsieelmore.com/2014/05/02/the-summer-my-eyebrows-grew-back/.

*raises fist in air*

Yea for all of us out there pushing through our fears and frustrations to get where we want to go. We are not alone!

Of course, this means I now face the query and synopsis.

Blah.

I do have a file labeled Doors query and synopsis … so I will not be facing a blank page. Unless I have to delete it and start from scratch, that happens.

Another project lingers in the back of my mind. I want to post a story here *gestures wildly* on my blog. A dream I will work on making come true.

Keep working to find and achieve your dreams. We can all do it, especially when we support each other. All it takes is believing.

What do you believe?