Broken People?

A few months ago I was gathered around a lunch table listening to the stories that flow from people about their lives.  Something as simple as food brings forth an astounding array of memories and experiences.

As I listened to one woman's tale of growing up, going to school, taking care of her brothers and cooking all of the family's meals - all while her able bodied mother looked on, my heart broke.  She said her husband cooks most of the meals because she has such a bad taste in her mouth about cooking.  He also grew up doing most of the cooking for his family, but it was approached differently.  His mother was still at work when he got home from school, but she would have laid out for him meat, thawed, along with any necessary ingredients and instructions.  Even though his mother wasn't physically there cooking with him, she mentally was.

I left that lunch table deep in thought.  Others around that table were obviously physically broken, in many ways, but I would not have guessed how psychologically scarred this woman was had she not told her story.

Aren't we all broken in one way or another?  Or at least we all have experiences that change us.  At times, when we are in the midst of those experiences, we think we are the only ones, that we are alone in our suffering, that no one will understand.  We may feel this way, but it is simply not true.

I believe this is one of the reasons I write.  I write to bring to light those things that break some of us, but also to show that they don't have to.  We can choose our own path.  We can choose our own reactions and responses.  We can indeed have hope.

I may write fiction, but I still hope that it rings true.

It's Monday. . . Again!

It's Monday morning, yet again!  What emotions does that phrase evoke in you?  Dread?  Discouragement? Downright depression?

I must apologize; I have given you a bit of misdirection, because I think it is GREAT that it's Monday, again.  I rested yesterday to fill my tank in preparation for the week ahead, but I was barely able to contain the excitement I felt about writing!  I couldn't wait to get going this morning to put proverbial pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard).

Isn't life just wonderful and fascinating?  Don't you just love to read a book that transports you places and transforms your thinking?  Can't you just imagine how I must feel about putting down those words that will hopefully one day transport and transform you?

All of you out there have different things that you will do today.  Some of them will be mundane and ordinary.  (I have a list of those to take care of myself.)  But in the process of doing those you can smile, you can laugh, you can imagine.  Doesn't that make this a great Monday?

Writing, writing and more writing

I was just talking with a group of teenagers yesterday about learning and how their own desire to learn plays a role in that.  It seems like an obvious connection, but we aren't always logical.

Have you ever felt like you wanted to "have" a certain amount of knowledge, but you didn't actually want to "gain" it?  In other words, you just wanted it plopped into your brain like in the movie The Matrix, without any effort on your part.  I must admit that thought has certain appeal.  But the reality of it is that the journey is important to the learning, and it can also be a lot of fun.

I started out writing with a goal of being a novelist.  I haven't deviated from that goal, but I have augmented it.  I'm now writing for two different monthly magazines, and I have my own column in one of them.  It is non-fiction writing, and at first I thought it unnecessary to my goal.  But writing, any writing, helps me hone my craft.  The journey has become as important as the goal.

And one last thought - when I love writing so much, what's not to love about writing more?

Moving Forward

I recently submitted my novel to a publisher.  After some initial interest, he decided not to publish it.  He had some nice things to say, but ultimately, he didn't connect with my characters in the early chapters.

It gave me pause.  Should I rework those early chapters or should I find a different publisher, one that would more easily identify with my main character?  The answer was, "Yes."

I've made some changes to my book, but not in any major ways.  I always want to be open to feedback and consider it seriously, but I also have to maintain the integrity of my book.  No one wants to read a book that has been changed to please so many different people that it no longer has a clear direction or focus.

I've also come to accept the fact that my book fits in the category of "chick lit."  I can call it "commercial fiction" all I want (which it is), but it is also squarely in the "chick lit" camp.  Now that I've accepted that fact I can better target my queries and submissions.

I suppose I should be disappointed about my rejection, but I just can't quite muster those negative feelings.  To me, it's like finding a friend.  You may meet a lot of people, but you only connect with a few.  No matter how much you change to try to fit in with those "other" people you will find that it's not really you.  It just doesn't work.  So, you keep looking until you make a connection.  And in the end the friendships you do make are ones that last a lifetime.

That's what I'm going to do with my book.  I'm going to keep "meeting" publishers until I find one that I (and my book) connect with.  I may learn (and edit) along the way, after all, that is part of this process we call life.  But in the end I hope to find the right fit, one that will last through this book, and the next, and the next.

Isn't this a wonderful journey?