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?

Some of our best writers . . .

I've been reading a lot lately - some of the finest literature out there.  I've also been reading a few other things.  For instance, there are reviews on amazon.com of some sugar-free gummy bears.  The reviews are hilarious - we're talking laugh-so-hard-you'll-start-crying hilarious.  I've been reading those as well.

Now, I certainly don't want to dismiss the hard-working authors out there, but those reviewers are brilliant!  After reading a few reviews, I began to wonder if some of them aren't fabricated.  But even if they are, the vivid language and imaginative metaphors are so well done that who cares!

Next week I'll be back to saluting the hard-working authors in our lives, but for this one week, I've got to say, "Hat's off to the amateur reviewers out there!  Keep up the good work."

Cleaning House

I've been doing a lot of cleaning and organizing the last couple of weeks.  It's a good feeling to sort, file, and discard accumulations.

I've also been reading a lot of books lately.  All of them have had good story lines, but some of them were a little cluttered and disorganized.  I have to admit that the disorder got to me.  I hesitate to recommend those books simply for that fact alone.  To me, that is the difference between a good book and a great book.  Who wants to be distracted from a good tale by literary, neglected "dust bunnies"?

I don't think that I mentioned that I just finished the major edit/rewrite of my book, "The Apple of My Eye."  I hope I haven't left any half-eaten apple cores behind.

 

A Pebble in My Shoe

Have you ever had a pebble in your shoe?  It is such a small thing, but such a huge irritant.  In life, those irritants come in many forms; I'm sure there is no need for me to list them.  Sometimes we can take off our "shoe" and eliminate the offending item, and sometimes we can't.

The familiar "Serenity Prayer" attributed to Reinhold Niebuhr is:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

This is what much of life is about.  If we cannot remove a pebble, we have to learn how to live with it, or look for change at a different time and in a different place.

Good books will actually insert those pebbles into the story.  They seem little and insignificant, and yet they don't sit right with us.  They irritate.  But with a masterful stroke, at the right time and place they are removed or resolved.  It is then that we realize they were placed there on purpose, for a specific intent.

On the other hand, poorly written books at times unintentionally have pebbles which are never removed.  All they do is irritate.

I believe that our lives often have intentional pebbles.  They help us learn and grow.  They have a purpose.  I heard a man yesterday say, "A smooth sea does not produces a skilled sailor."  So maybe in life (and books) it is best not to ask for a smooth journey, but a successful and satisfying one instead.