I have been so busy! How busy, you ask? Too busy to do actual writing on my blog. I have been researching writing techniques (some shared here), writing my book, and if being so busy wasn’t enough I adopted a beagle from the local humane society (dog number four). Ugh, what could possibly be wrong with me? Molly is a wonderful addition to our crazy family. She captured our hearts immediately. My husband and I spent Saturday afternoon hanging out in town. We decided to stop at the shelter, because we love animals, and we wanted something to do. Molly, the beagle didn’t bark, stayed calm, looked adorable, and immediately gave kisses. She nailed us in the heart, hook, line, and sinker! As if my schedule wasn’t busy enough! Molly has been wonderful, and whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right?
My mother abandoned her four children. My two oldest brothers were in high school, I was fourteen and my youngest brother was eight. My father took over, ill prepared to care for us at all, so I took care of everyone. I did suffer from depression at the time, but I held it together for my young brother.
Remnants of those feelings still fester deep inside. I don’t let them destroy me, but they are there. The feelings creep in like a shadow in the night, they sweep over me, and take my breath from my lips.
I am not the only one who’s associated with this abandonment who’s affected. Even though my children barely know my mother they feel it too. Even though my husband has never abandoned me, I inadvertently put the strain on him to be my rock, my great protector.
When my husband and I went to the Pythian Castle the other night he wandered off, looking around by himself. In doing so I felt abandoned, left to experience this grand place without him. I didn’t tell him about my feelings, because deep down he isn’t responsible for these feelings, I own them, he’s not the cause, and I don’t put that on him. I don’t want my abandonment issues to affect him too.
I was grumbling the other day about my husband being insensitive, and my nineteen year old son asked me if we were getting divorced. I felt like I was going to cry. He doesn’t want to lose my husband (step dad to my son). It’s not going to happen, but it’s evident the fear is there.
Does my mother’s abandonment of her children really flow through to everybody? It flows through me, but do I pass it on to others? Or do they feel a need to have my mother as their grandma, because that would be normal?
I’ve been working diligently throughout the day on my book. I have two notebooks with somewhat of a system (only I would understand) going at the same time. I have been rambling about the house, full of thought, figuring out formulas, creating interesting characters (so I hope), and running back to my notebook before I forget one single thought. By the time I get to it a good portion has gone stale, but I still manage to get some thoughts down. I have several chapters typed out in Word for my rough draft, around 4,000 words in just two days.
I was doing some research, and our weather here in Missouri turned sour and my satellite internet was getting sketchy, so I had to postpone what I was doing and head back to the pen and paper. No tornado, but a warning was issued ten miles north of my home. A little unnerving when you are deep in thought. It stymied my creativity just a tad, but I eventually got back on track.
One more very productive day just about to end, and tomorrow is a new day. Hopefully abundant with new, wonderful ideas!?
I am working on a book project that was sparked by my recent interest in a popular TV program The Walking Dead. I say recent because it took me till this year to assimilate myself to the very idea of watching gore. Therefore I have watched all the prior seasons during two marathons, and now I’m all caught up.
I have never been into science fiction as a reading genre. I think I was once forced to read a science fiction book in high school, and it bored me to death. Ever since then I’ve thought sci-fi…ICK, and then came The Walking Dead, and now I’m in it over my head, hook, line and sinker.
I have formulated this idea in my head, and I want very much for it to become a book, and it would be a book that would entertain a concept, that quite literally could be a very long venture of very complex characters and how they interact in their new found world. I am two chapters in with my writing at the moment, and a very long way to go till completion.
I have been mashing the title around in my head for days and days, and I have been doing a ton of research on some of the places where a small part of the plot unfolds. In order for me to convey a picture to my audience of somewhere I have never been I know I will have to over familiarize myself with these surroundings. And since there will be numerous places to research I know I will be spending a greater part of my time reading, then actually writing.
When I iron out the details more thoroughly on how the story will proceed I will let my fellow bloggers know first what my book is going to be about. Just so you know it’s not about zombies or an apocalypse.
Peering out the window of my back porch I see the majestic 200 year old towering oak trees in the newly green pasture, behind them is the most beautiful purple and blue sky. What a way to start my day. I can hear the neighbors rooster “cock-a-doodle-doing”, birds chirping, an owl hooting, lovebirds cooing an an occasional car passing off in the distance.
Missouri is a beautiful place to live any time of the year, but I’m particularly fond of spring. A complete renewal, a rebirth after winter, it is in full effect everywhere you look. The daffodils have fully bloomed, the tree buds are just starting to show, and soon the fox family will emerge from their den out back and show off their new offspring. The farmer will be plowing his fields soon, and I will throw on my backpack and go on my yearly spring search for arrowheads that pop out of the soil.
It’s time for me to do my chores, with full expectations of having a wonderful day, I will start off tending to my sweet mare Minnie. Then I will release the hounds, so the expression goes, they are not really hounds, but they act exuberant enough first thing in the morning to be mistaken for them. Then I will go about my day, in the usual, happy-go-lucky, spring in my step way.
How do you measure your success? By the amount of money you receive for the goal you set for yourself being accomplished, or just the raw satisfaction for completing the task?
Do you deserve to be successful? I know that I dont, not yet anyway. I haven’t paid my dues. I am sometimes sickened at the success, or the impression of someone elses success for things just handed to them, whether it comes from namesake, hierarchy or, mear serendipity. My luck doesn’t run like that. I can work my tail off and stand still, or even fall backwards. But I press on, I don’t give up.
I can whine that I need a break, I need something to fall into my hands easily, for once. I have paid lifes perilous dues; abuse, neglect, poor, homeless, you name it. Do I want things just to come easily? No, but it would be welcomed, but I don’t hope, yearn, dream or pray for it to happen, if it does happen, I will smile. In the meantime I just work.