Writing in Winter

It is again winter in Michigan. The streets are sheathed in a white dusting of snow and every window and eave is resplendent with colored bulbs and glittering decor. It has been an amazingly warm, dry winter thus far and you will hear few complaints from the locals who rejoice in leaving their snow boots and thermal underwear in the closet for another week or two. Despite the collective feeling that we are only on the precipice of a long winter, we officially passed the shortest and darkest day of the year yesterday - the winter solstice. As a lover of all things Gaia, I had the wonderful opportunity of celebrating the solstice with a candlelit yoga session offered by an amazing and insightful teacher (Angela) while musician Jeremy Arndt played the Halo. It was an inspiring and therapeutic experience and I am unbelievably grateful to live in a place where such amazing people offer their gifts!

In the world of writing and work, I left my job in early November to return to writing full time. It was a short-lived gig that simply did not resonate with me and fortunately, I have discovered a myriad of ways to make life work without the 9 to 5. I received a first and then second set of proofs (edits) on Ula and have completed and sent both back to my publisher with a hopeful date of publication in three to four months. Other writing has been stalled in lieu of the Holiday Season and the Fabinelli's Candy season. This year, I built the candy maker a new website, which was great practice, in addition to updating their blog, creating a new Facebook page and starting a small SEO marketing plan. It has been a success and great fun!

Happy Holidays :)

Writing From the Heart

I write a lot these days. To give you an update, I started working for a digital marketing agency writing copy and doing SEO a few months ago. I had discovered over the last few, mostly jobless, years that time had become this rubber band that could stretch hours into weeks, days into months, and weekends into nothings because every day was simply another day. I lost touch with the schedule that I diligently adhered to when I first quit working to get writing and in losing that structure, I lost a lot of productivity. I needed to find that again and, to be honest, I tried to do it on my own. I tried to use a planner, set hourly tables for writing, go to the coffee shop or library to force write a thousand words, but in the end, I chose the easier route: a job.

In making this change, I have sacrificed my endless time, naps in the afternoon, getting chores done while everyone else is at work and always being able to open my laptop if inspiration strikes. I've gained a steady paycheck, more writing and SEO experience, human interaction and.... my coveted schedule. I wake up to an alarm, take scheduled breaks and clock out at 5 PM. It is not all perks nor all perils, but instead that strange combination of what we need during the time that we need it. It took a while to get this job - a month of interviews, writing samples and contemplation. As the roller coaster of waiting cranked me up and dropped me again and again, I came to a wonderful conclusion: what ever happened was what I needed to happen.

This may seem like a strange sentiment to some of you, but as an avid meditator, practicer of yoga and embracer of living in the now - I relish the belief that the universe delivers to me the experiences that I most need. Sometimes those experiences are challenging and easily labeled bad luck, but I no longer subscribe to such chaotic views of life. Instead, I choose to embrace the moment that is before me and roll with the waves rather than resisting them. It is has made my life much easier and much better, though I still find that I occasionally get caught in past and future thoughts. My job has demanded that I let go of past perceptions about working full time. It has demanded that I release the belief that being a writer means writing only what I love and doing it all of the time. Wait, let me correct this, I have demanded these things of myself. This is the beauty of living in the present, recognizing that we are the creators of our life, our story, our happiness.

I find with my schedule that I am writing for myself again, more than I was before I started the job. I am envisioning the path that my writing will take rather than facing the unravelling hours like thread in my palm. I hope to come here more now that writing has again taken precedence over many of the distractions in my life.

To give a brief update. I recently received a final round of edits from my publisher for Ula and hope to see publication soon. I am still writing the sequel, editing it in my writer's group and staying current on my other blog Writing in Michigan. Thanks for reading and I hope that you too can enjoy this present moment.

Oh Summer - How I love Thee

It is summer again in northern Michigan and it is perhaps, the most beautiful that I have ever experienced, or that may simply be that it is now and now is all there is. Writing has been a miniature roller coaster of procrastination, but I am involved in a writer's group again so at the very least I'm talking writing - if not doing much. Well fiction that is. I have written more articles than I care to remember at the moment, duty calling in the form of rent etc. so the keys have been clacking, just not the imagination. I have also read a seeming bookshelf of books and novels lately, ranging from spiritual guides to fictional mysteries. I will list some below with a short review.

Ula is still with the publisher waiting for edits. It is several books down the list and thus I have no publication update; however, this is preferable because my sequel is continuing to hover in the 15,000 word range. I have largely fleshed out the plot - at least in my mind - but the sand dunes and the bursting trees keep calling me away from my laptop and into the woods. I will return again to update, hopefully sooner than later, but I do so much personal journaling that this space gets sorely neglected.

Books
Rose by Martin Cruz Smith: I loved this. It's a historical mystery with a good vein of romance and gives a plethora of information about coal mines in Lancashire during the late 1800's. Suspenseful plot, vivid characters and many twists.

The Little Friend by Donna Tart: I am a huge fan of Donna Tart's wordy, descriptive literary novels. I enjoyed this novel for about the first 300 pages. It then continued to drag on - largely commenting on scenery and decor with a mixture of psychological angst by the young protagonist. It could have been great, but as many literary novels do - it simply petered out with no resolutions or deeper understanding of the forces at work behind the characters' thoughts or the strange events occurring. For me, it lacked the magic of life and reduced the world to a series of images that felt flat. However, I still love Donna Tart and highly recommend A Secret History.

The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles: This novel is a classic and is considered one of the great England novels published during the 20th century. It is very character-centric with frequent forays into the minds of the two mains - Port and Kit - as they travel deeply into the Sahara Desert. The foreshadowing was very obvious and somewhat cliched; however, for its time, it was exceptional. The landscape of Africa takes on a life of its own and becomes something of a nemesis and abusive lover for the two main characters. It was painfully indulgent with the characters' (often shallow) thoughts and preoccupations with themselves. Overall I enjoyed it.

Okay that is enough reviews for now - I will add more w/ my next post.

Sunny South

I am writing this post from Florida - perhaps I'm writing this post because I am in Florida. The hot sun and lush vegetation have thawed my frozen brain. I have longed for a notebook here to jot down the constant array of exquisite stimulation. I have wondered if I would remember upon returning home the way the pigeons, who frequented the beach, had iridescent feathers that shimmered in the sunlight or how the Cypress Trees stretched like barren skeletons dotted with brilliantly colored air plants. In Michigan in the cleansing winter months, our eyes seem to fail. Gone are the wide prairies of buttery dandelions and sugar sand dunes. My sight begins to feel buried beneath a frosted layer of ice until even my inner vision starts to see only white, endless glittering nothingness.

Today I look forward to returning home. My mind has had its fill of this glorious dream, so brilliant and overwhelming that I long for the silence of the north woods. I look forward to the blank page and my newly opened mind. I have much to do, mainly Book II in my Born of Shadows Series. Ula: Book I has been turned into the publisher and may need future revisions before publication, but it is blissfully out of my grasp. I also need to begin edits on the chick lit book that I finished months ago and have not looked at since. I have written a few short stories, outlined a few articles, but largely I have allowed the words to fall into the cracks in my sofa and fester with the cat toys and crumbs.

As for reading, I just finished last night Alexandra Fuller's Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight - a memoir about Africa that was deeply moving and left me longing to feel the dry grass and see the bougainvillea. I cannot list any of my other latest reads right now because it is time to begin our final day of the trip and their titles slip my mind.

Publication

Well this is an exciting post because I recently received an e-mail from a small publishing company that wants to print Ula first as an ebook and later in print. I have to say that this was much needed news as the last few months have been difficult in the writing world for me. I always believed that the rejections and the solitude were minor issues on the path to writing full time, but the truth is that they are at the forefront of the process. It's a wonderful feeling to be embarking on the next leg of this journey. I will update with more specifics later, but suffice it to say that right now writing has returned as the central character in my life.

Burr.....

Winter here again in Michigan. My husband and I went for a long snowy beach hike and dune climb today. The wind whipped snow into every crevice of my coat and by the time we reached the end of our hike (which concluded with a bumpy slide down a very steep dune) my face was raw and red. It was a wonderful, in the moment, experience that I hope to repeat many times in the upcoming months. Writing has been sluggish at best, lost in the throes of my seasonal job at the Cherry Republic, a very Michigan Company that specializes in all things Cherry. It has been a great break from my books and has given me another angle with which to view the world of fictional characters and places. I am working on my third novel, approx. 12,000 words in and hoping to dive back in after the first of the year. I have also been querying for Ula and Skidmarks on My Heart. I recently received a rejection from a small print and web publisher for Ula, which contained extensive feedback (not happy feedback, but any suggestions are welcome) so although it was on some levels disheartening, it was great to get constructive criticism. That's all in the land of writing updates. As for reading, I'm working on Middlesex by Jeffrey Euganides, which has successfully pulled me in. I'll list a few other good reads below:

We Don't Die by Joel Martin and Patricia Romanowski : Really interesting story about the medium George Anderson with some inspiring true stories.

The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson: I liked it, but honestly, I found the first book much more compelling.

The Tenth Circle by Jodi Picoult: I've read a few by her and really enjoyed this one. Picoult created a unique comic scenario that paralleled the story and added dimension to one of the central characters.

Fall in Northern MI

Summer has edged away and been replaced by falling amber leaves, breezes loaded with the sweet scent of foliage in decay and morning walks that call for mittens and wool socks. It is a transformative time for nature as she shrugs off the heavy boughs of summer and begins the slow crawl toward a long winter cleanse. We have frequent fires in our fireplace, spiced cherry wine and ample time to reflect on our own transformations as we too transition with the seasons. Driving down our street, I am renewed by the corridor of gold and red that flecks the leaves like a child's paint project en masse.

As for writing, it transitions as well with the seasons. Fall is a new beginning, it is also an end. Colder temperatures mean more time logged with this keyboard, more words into the world - hopefully some that make a difference - and less face time in the world when the snow drifts pile too deep for driving. All in all, I am embracing this time. The summer, though it is glorious, is packed with family, friends, lake outings, beach days, travel, festivals and more than seems humanly reasonable in a span of several months. It is often a long choppy break from writing, speckled with bursts of productivity, but surely bringing my average down.

On my other blog, I wrote about a conference that I recently attended and I will mention it here also. It is called the Great Lake Bioneers Conference and includes several days of amazing speakers beamed in from California as well as local speakers covering a range of critical topics from global warming to spousal abuse in India. The speakers are activists, a dying breed I fear, who have devoted their lives to informing people of our impact in the world. They are scientists, researchers, hippies, mothers, teachers and even children. One speaker, who was only sixteen, had a standing ovation for his pleas that his generation stand up and begin the changes that are necessary to bring harmony back to this planet. The conference also includes work shops. My husband and I had the pleasure of experiencing a Tibetan Bowl meditation with Mark Handler and having an open discussion about acceptance of painful world news with Diane Osborne. This conference revitalized my spirit and thus my writing for that, after all, is where the words come from.

As for more technical updates, I recently had a request from a small press to submit my manuscript for Ula. I finished the submission packet yesterday and sent it out. I have several queries circulating for Skidmarks on My Heart, my chick lit book. I just realized that I may not have mentioned the title here before and I chose it because it is a Go Go's song and my main character was named after their lead singer. I am also keeping a blog for Writers, which I update a couple of times a week with jobs and markets etc. I have not written many articles lately; however, I did have a rant published in Urban Garden Magazine which won my husband a turbo cloner. I will end this by listing a few good books that I have read lately below:)

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larson - Wow - non stop action - riveting

The Girl Who Played with Fire " " - Not finished, but so far very good, less action in beginning

Naked by David Sedaris - hilarious as usual with Sedaris

Very Long Break

Yes, this may be the longest break that I have taken from the blog. Thus is the state of a Michigan summer. Though that implies that out of several months I never had time to write a single entry, which isn't true - I just haven't wanted to. In my previous blog I mentioned that my husband and I had moved and now we have moved again. I will not go into detail, but our previous choice turned out to be a bad one. However, we are now on the Leelanau Peninsula and it is spectacular. The dunes sit like our own distant desert just a mile away, we have water at our fingertips, a massive friendly porcupine frequents the backyard and Lake Michigan is so close that its smell permeates every breath.

On writing, I revised for the final time, Ula, and submitted it to a small web publisher that had previously requested a full. I have written a few articles here and there, but all in all, my writing has been stalled for the last couple of months. I did, however, write 3,500 words on my chic lit novel yesterday and feel another 5,000 words should wrap it up. Oh, what a glorious feeling to have a long project coming to a close. Not that finishing is anywhere near the end of the novel. I then have to revise it about 8 million times and then submit it 8 million more. But honestly, it's all quite enjoyable. The writing is the best, it's so much like reading that when I'm 'in it' I can go all day. So yes, that's a writing update. As for reading - I will make a quick list of some good stuff that I've read lately.

The Eagle and The Rose- Very inspiring true story of a medium. I found that it gave me a profound sense of peace.
The Dome- AMAZING- Stephen King is still the master as far as I am concerned.
The Kiss- A sad and disturbing memoir about a woman who observed her father's murder.
Nightmares and Dreamscapes- Another Stephen King - this is a fantastically macabre selection of short stories. They are great writing fodder.

A Quickie

The world is still again. I have recently re-located to Fife Lake, lovely, and have finally, after a grueling battle to get satellite Internet, have begun writing again. Edits on Ula are slow, tedious and extremely rewarding. I have rewritten approx. the first 40 pages and added grammatical edits into the early 100's - thanks again to Michael, my editorial savior. The chic lit novel continues to waver in the low 60,000 word mark because I have been trying to get back to Demand Studios and get some articles done - which is not exactly easy when you have endless time and zero organization. On books, I just finished Pigs in Heaven (Barbara Kingsolver) - an amazing novel filled with her usual imagery. I also read Foxfire (Joyce Carol Oates) - true to her soul gripping narrative - I loved every page of it. Beyond that I'm slogging through Writer's Digest 101 Best websites, mostly to procrastinate, but also to add more useful sites to my bookmarks page, which now involves several minutes of scrolling to reach the bottom. That's it for writing updates, I believe. Au Revoir

An Eden of that dim lake

This morning the lake is a sheet of diamonds. The sun streaks onto it, lays flat its contours and reflects the most glorious image back to the sky. Perhaps this is nature's modern day sacrifice to the sun god Ra, surely it is pleased looking down on this splendor. The trees have begun their crawl from the deep shredded wood and cold roots back to the rawness of Springs air. Their tips have sprouted tiny colored buds that grow green with each passing morning that we walk the road to the woods nearby. I am surprised not to see birds diving for the water's surface, magpies scrambling to seize the faux diamonds blinking in and out of light like nighttime stars. I can imagine floating out there on a clear raft, allowing my fingers to trail the icy surface, prepared for the hard cut of the jewels that will not come. Diving beneath the water, down, and flipping to stare back at the sun that dives with me, that shoots like bullets into the tendrils of algae, flicks off the scales of otherwise colorless fish allowing them momentary glamour in their underwater world. The cats wander aimlessly, they face off at night with their tails bushed to maximum size and their backs arched, they race up and down the driveway, the hills, the road. They are so alive, they are alive like the grass clawing its way up from winters dirt bed, the ducks flapping their frantic wings to ward off those meandering too close to their nests, the flowers already folding back their vibrant waxen petals to draw the other creatures, the bee that will begin its codependent relationship for another heavenly summer.

This was a post from my journal in April, but it seemed appropriate for today as well. It has already been such a glorious summer and every day, even the gray ones, feel charged with energy. My writing has been going exceptionally well. Michael's edits have been tantamount to a massive re-write that I've undertaken in Ula (five thousand words today). I've been blogging for a realtor about things to do in Northern Michigan, which makes me want to run out and do all of those things. I've also been doing online articles again and have nearly reached 60,000 words in my chick lit novel. Been reading as well, but nothing I'll report just yet - oh - except for Writing Down the Bones, which I've read before, but am re-reading b/c it is spectacular.

Back to Childhood

I just read an amazing post about the creativity of children and their ability to see the extraordinary within the ordinary (in this case a bed sheet). How true it is that children seem to view the world through a lens free of fear. They race blindly into the rain, down a hill, out the door. There is not judgement or pain or expectation clogging their thoughts, slowing their excitement or paralyzing their racing feet. In this world, this new one that my husband and I have somehow built, I am finally retrieving my childhood self. Like so many fleeting things, I forgot what it felt like to jump down sand dunes and cartwheel in the front yard and without guilt or thought do absolutely whatever I please. I hope that somehow more and more people awaken to the loss of their free selves, the selves that existed before school cliques, gender expectations, body image qualms and a million other tiny needling thoughts that mold us into something we never planned or wanted to become. It is not an easy road down from that high cliff of fear and guilt, but it is one that fulfills more than any job or relationship or bank balance. It is a place that begins in wonder and that changes every second of every day for the better, in my opinion, for the best.

Some Scattered Thoughts

I just read through all of my previous posts - all of them. That may sound excessive, but to my delight I realized that this space - that no one except me (I think) ever reads has chronicled (some of) my life. Now this is not important in any grand way, but it does allow me the past. Here I can glance back at all of those oft forgotten steps that culminate in life. Not to imply that this is my only journal, it's not, but this is the only one focused entirely on my writing, which gives me that breadth of progress at least.

As for writing, I'm doing a lot of it. Today I wrote 10,000 words in a new chick lit novel that I've been working on for a couple months. I have passed the 35,000 word mark. My second novel Ula is, well, it's done and it's patiently waiting for me to write the sequel, which I have not begun because I have not found an agent or a publisher or a random guy on the street that will print it on his home computer and purchase it for more than a dollar. I am not truly this pessimistic about the state of my second book. I actually believe that I will publish it eventually. Right now, a teacher (Michael) at NMC is reading it for me. Does this mean progress? Maybe or maybe not. My time at the White Pine Press has sadly come to an end because it is a college paper and does not run during the summer and the fiction class that I signed up for was cancelled due to low enrollment, not a productive start to my week. I've received more rejections than I could list with my available web space, but honestly I view this all as progress, all those ridiculous fire rimmed hoops that you jump through before eating the bloody corpse at the end (I meant that much more eloquently). I've been reading a lot of Anne Rice, her Vampire Chronicles and am in total awe of any writer that can craft entire worlds of fantasy that nestle so sweetly here within this rigid reality that we call life. Did I mention that I really would like to be a vampire, the Anne Rice kind though specifically? I'm also reading the memoir Kiss which is equally enthralling and disturbing. What else have I read lately? Let's see... Black Girl White Girl by Joyce Carol Oates (exquisitely detailed characters as usual), Anatomy of the Spirit (not quite finished, but it is spiritually liberating), Max Berry's The Company (decent, but not amazing), The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (a future possibility?) and a bunch of others that slip my mind.

I feel that this post has been garbage. It's totally coagulated and now I am ending it without a single significant thought. How about this? Today has been the most glorious Spring day, perhaps of my life, and I bid it farewell with great reluctance.

I Love Tea

It is Monday morning, which is insignificant to me because I have not had a regular job in over a year. In the beginning, days of the week still had meaning, now they don't. Mondays have been banished as a symbol of anxiety and trepidation. I do not wake up, rush the house in search of nylons, have a meltdown when my windshield is a frozen sea of snowflakes, drive like a manic an hour to work, spend eight hours drumming my fingernails and counting the minutes, only to end it all in another rush home to bed (more or less). Instead I wake (this morning at 5:48 AM), make tea (today it's green and black hibiscus), sit in the bathroom with my space heater (smallest room-easiest to heat), and work on whatever I want. Eventually I will eat (usually something that Will makes), workout or hike, and spend the rest of the day alternating between fiction writing, fiction reading, article writing, research, podcasts, drinking mass quantities of coffee, and querying. This, I believe, is how life is meant to be. So many of today's jobs are irrelevant. They are menial paper pushing positions that are super inflated by employers because no one really knows what the point of the company is. Like Insurance, for instance, which costs people a small fortune, wastes massive quantities of natural resources while powering buildings that pump out tons of useless paperwork daily, and creates no tangible product. Not only is it useless, it also sucks the lives from every employee who sacrifice their precious hours chasing a paycheck so meager that they dig a giant whole of debt to bury themselves in so that they don't have to face it head on. I have lived in that world, we all have I think, and it makes me extremely grateful for the world that I am in now.

I Typed for Miles

It is January now, cold and snowy and blue. Alas the perfect weather for writing b/c frankly what else is there to do? So I finished the book about fifty times. Not really, but several revisions have come and gone so let's get down to updates. My husband and I attended a great writers conference at Northwest Michigan College in November. We learned about tropes, more about revisions and a bit about beginning the story in the action. Thus I reworked quite a bit of my first several chapters to focus on a few of these things. I also joined a writers group that is wonderful. My other members, Patrick and Jeph, are both working on really great fiction pieces that hopefully will show up at your local bookstore in the near future. I am also now writing for NMC's the White Pine Press and will be doing a piece in the next issue about Land Use Planning. I also received a request for a partial on my manuscript from an agent this week. YAY!!! Other than that I've been submitting short stories and piling up the rejections, oh what an eternally self esteem boosting career writing is.

The End is in Sight

Well I officially finished my first draft with re-write and basic edits last Friday. I printed my first copy, which was a massive pain in the _ _ _ because I ran out of, not one, but two ink cartridges. No worries though. My final draft is just over 111,000 words and I have today begun making revisions based on my husband's feedback after he read the final copy. I will say that I am living in the most wonderful writers retreat ever encountered, well technically it is not a writers retreat, but it is for me. We're renting a gorgeous chalet style house on Lake Ann, it has lovely balconies, a stone fireplace that stretches two stories and is nestled between 12 windows that face the lake. Our kitties are running amok as usual and Will, my husband, is taking this time to read and catch the fleeting rays of sun before summer bids farewell. I have been reading a lot this summer as well and will include a short list of a few of my favorites; The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver (absolutely phenomenal), Just After Sunset by Stephen King (some chilling short stories in the batch), The Patron Saint of Liars by Ann Patchett (quick enjoyable read), Truth and Beauty by Ann Patchett (completely unforgettable true story), The Guy not Taken by Jennifer Weiner (for a mindless escape), and You Must Remember This by Joyce Carol Oates (loved every second of it). Okay that will be all for now, but soon I'm sure I will be blogging about the stress of writing a decent synopsis.

June Has Arrived

Well it is June here in Michigan. Generally a time of warm weather, sunny skies and finally green, rather than brown, vegetation. This year, however, has not been so promising. We've had a lot of rain and wind and uncomfortably cold days. I've been living at our little island up north and my husband has spent most of his time collecting wood and building us fires to battle the bitter wind coming out of the north. Not very pleasant. I have made progress on the book. I've passed the 86,000 word mark and am forging my way through the end. I have not begun to edit or even re-read my manuscript, but luckily bad weather on an island leaves little else to do. My schedule for today includes a lot of article writing, picking up some new material at the library and brainstorming the next scene in my book. So I'll sign off and hopefully make it back a bit sooner than usual. 

Consistency is not my Forte

It has been two months since my last entry. I'd like to say that's outside of the norm, but nope, it is the norm. Not that I haven't been writing, I have. In fact, I've passed the 50,000 word mark in my book and I've done some articles and short stories, but I've been so busy elsewhere I've all, but forgotten about my blog. Will and I went to Arizona for two weeks, then I spent a week in Traverse, then we just got back from Chicago, so, in the very least, I've been gathering good material. Right now it's going on midnight and I hate to say I am still drinking coffee; however, the creative juices are currently drying up. So in about ten minutes I'm going to be extremely wired, but not have enough brain energy left to do anything useful. Truth be told, I'm not too worried about it. On another note, my husband and I saw Elizabeth Gilbert speak in Chicago. I just finished her book "Eat, Pray, Love," which was very enjoyable. What I really loved about this book was how it invoked so many feelings: humor, sadness, empathy, motivation, excitement, inspiration. One of those books that not only entertains, but also enlightens. And what's truly amazing is just how many people it touched in this way. It did not simply speak to a small group of readers, it touched masses. In addition to this book, I've been reading almost non-stop lately. In the last month I've read Valley of the Dolls, Eat Pray Love, A Density of Souls, Cigarette Girl, Bird by Bird and several others that I'd have to check my shelf to remember. Obviously I've been doing a bit more reading than writing, but hey, all in the name of honing the craft.

The Snow is Suffocating Me

It's 8:30 am. I just worked out and feel sufficiently exhausted. I would love to cool down with a walk outside. Just an easy stroll down the street, let the heart rate slow, breathe in some fresh air. The problem? There's two feet of snow on the ground. I'd have to shovel a path to even attempt to walk and that would not exactly slow my heart rate. So instead I'm inside. Now the snow is beautiful, it really is, but it's driving me insane. It has been a near constant for the last 7 weeks. I miss the sun, I miss warmth and grass and anything green other than pine trees. I'm sick of looking out to a sky that matches the ground exactly. But on a positive note, the snow can be good for writing because it's nearly impossible to get motivated to leave the house. I stretch the days between grocery shopping, I workout at home and incidentally I log a lot more computer time. Nevertheless I am ready for Spring or a vacation very soon.

To All That is New - Including the Year

It is 2009! I have given up waiting for such supposedly important things to sink in. Like birthdays, anniversaries, even deaths. Each so fraught with meaning and yet they never seem to fully penetrate the psyche. Instead we just trudge along, gushing about out daily nuisances and hardly aware that we have entered an entirely new year of our lives. Everything that happens for the next 360 days will be punctuated by "in 2009", not 2008 or 2001 or any of the other years that have come before. No this is the year of 2009. Wow - that was completely anticlimactic. I mean really, I said it like it was important, but I felt absolutely nothing. In fact, some days I feel as if I have not registered the changing of a year since high school, back when years actually felt like years and not like a series of stressful weeks tied to together with a fraying rubber band. I am generally not a fan of New Year's resolutions, I prefer to be a person who believes that I change when I choose to change, not simply because people are speeding to the store to stock up on recumbent bikes and protein powder. Despite, this denial of resolutions I often find myself making them. Not out loud really, just little sidelines to myself. Like I am absolutely publishing a book in 2009 or I vow to cook more this year and miscellaneous other plans that somehow feel do-able because I have an entirely new year in which to do them. So I guess that is what this post is all about. My New Years Non-Resolutions. 1). Publish a book - even if this means writing for a target audience of two year olds. 2). Cook food that does not have a layer of black on the bottom, does not stick to the pan like adhesive and someone other than I will eat. 3). Take vitamins - in so many areas I'm good, I'll workout, I get in the veggies and water, but the vitamins are an endless challenge. 4). Do Not Return to my Job- this is a big one, I left to write full time, which means me writing daily and actually making money, no writing at 7pm after I'm so stressed from rush hour traffic that I'm double fisting a bottle of Vodka and a can of whip cream. Okay that's it - 2009 here I come...

The Flu

I'm just getting over the flu - hence my title. I have not written anything in a week and still feel like it may be a few more days until full brain functioning returns. I have not made it much further on my second book, although I have almost finished reading the book Paint it Black which is phenomenal. Really gets the brain buzzing. I'm finished with classes and have realized that a full time writing schedule is actually a challenge. The days seem to race by with only a few articles done or a thousand words. I think that I've just allowed my routine to loosen with the Holidays and all the chaos that they bring.