Winter shadows dark;
My truth is not apparent
out of the sunshine.
Category Archives: yeah write
Bye, 2016.
When I finished NaBloPoMo in 2015, I intended to take a week off and then resume blogging. Instead, I took that week, then more than 50 other weeks, and here I am. Plenty of times I thought about blogging, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I don’t even know what stopped me. Was my blogging moment in the sun over? Was I ever really in the sun to begin with? Was I just too uninspired? Busy? Lazy? The answer to all of these, except for whether I was ever really in the sun, is pretty much yes.
In case you’re wondering, here’s a rundown of what’s happened since I last wrote:
December: Holidays. Work.
January: Work. Snow.
February: Work. Snow. Sad.
March: Work. Probably didn’t snow. Still sad. I fear I will never see sunlight or be warm again.
April: Spring break in LA. Not sad! Warmer!
May: 40th birthday! I wore the fancy party dress. I did a ropes course. I felt strong. I went to Nashville with dear friends. I took over as editor in chief at yeah write.
June: Work. Yeah write.
July: Work. Yeah write. I got book edits back from beta readers and an editor. Yikes. Sinus infection.
August: Work. Yeah write. Book edits. Humidity.
September: Work. Yeah write. Book edits. Long Beach Comic Con (yay, LA!!). So much inspiration and zero time.
October: Work. Two new big freelance jobs. Work. Work. The sun is leaving. Work. Sad. Yeah write. So much stuff.
November: Thanksgiving in LA! Sun! Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Cold. Yeah write. Work. Sad. Cold. Election.
December: Work. Yeah write. Sad. Work. Christmas. Work. Sad. Sinus infection. Work. Freezing to death. Blob-like.
As you can see, there wasn’t much time for storytelling and I wasn’t really in the mood for stories either. I’ve been so busy. At times, I was busier than any person should be. January looks like it could be moderately busy. I’m fine with that. I have big plans and they all take work.
What I think is most funny is that I think what inspired me to finally break my blog silence was that every year, around this time, I feel like I want to start cooking again (I pretty much haven’t cooked all year) and organizing my house, my life, my everything. Usually things start to get away from me in the fall but the fact is that last year I never got stuff back together so all of 2016 felt off. This is the first time I feel like I can get 2017 on track. I can set real goals rather than arbitrary ones with no target dates (I can’t explain that, you’ll have to accept my vagueness with the understanding that it will make sense later).
In some ways, while everyone else was having the worst 2016, I was having the best. So many things became clear. And in other ways it was the worst because clarity is an absolutely frightening thing sometimes when you don’t know what to do with what you now know to be true.
So, here I am. On the edge of a new year. I have some resolutions and goals, like any good overachiever would. You’ll hear about them in time since I’m not ready for the big reveal. And that’s how I know that this path I’m on is the truth: I need to guard it and protect it. I need to cultivate it. I can’t get bogged down talking about it. I have to push through until I’m there and then I can tell you what I did. I won’t feel like I owe you an update or I made you a promise that maybe I didn’t keep. I’m not making myself promises, other than to get up every day and do the work that needs to get done that day so that I can be where I need to be.
I do hope to blog more. I miss it. I don’t know that I have the time for it in any real way, but I’ll try. For now, I’m going to end the year with some work, the grocery store, getting my hair done, and a party with friends. It’s the right way to end it. I’m ready for something new.
Please Remind Me.
November 17, 1948. That’s the day my mother was born.
November is the worst month. It’s getting darker daily. Colder, too. Everything is dying.
My mother is already dead. It’s said we all start dying the minute we’re born but she really took that to heart.
Come April, when spring is upon us and my mother’s deathday looms, I won’t be this sad. Her death was an end to her suffering, and an easing of my own struggles around that. The light of spring is hope and losing her finally on that day in April doesn’t feel as sad as this reminder of her birth. Then, my memories of my mother won’t be clouded by sadness and pain.
But I am sad in November. The lost hope of what could have been and the towering mound of if-only wishes are all too much in November. Everything else that happens, both in my little world and in the larger world around me, amplifies my own grief. It’s like a pair of mirrors, each shines off the other creating endless reflections of sadness until I can’t fight it off any longer.
The darkness of November continues to creep in and it wears me down until I’m nothing. I feel damaged beyond repair, ruined by who my mother was and what she made me. Her death was supposed to be the end of me feeling this way. I have been cheated.
November is knowing that nothing, absolutely nothing in this world, can take any of the hope I once had and make it real. As unlikely as any sort of healing was while she was alive, I could still hope. I could still pretend. November reminds me of my naivety and foolishness. November reminds me that it’s all set it stone now.
She would have been 67 today. Would have been.
When you see me and I seem tired, or I have a look on my face or a heaviness on my soul, it’s just November. If you could, remind me that the seasons change and spring will be here eventually.
This is yeah write’s nomo Day 17.
Have You Seen This?
Two months ago, yeah write had the opportunity to be a part of Long Beach Comic Con. This was such a wonderful experience for so many reasons. First and foremost, I got to spend the weekend with many of my fellow editors. It was the first time so many of us were in the same state together, let alone the same venue. But I also got to spend the weekend thinking about and talking about writing, and specifically about yeah write.
Having the chance to sit on a panel and talk about writing was amazing. Sharing the stage with such talent was equally amazing. If you haven’t already, take a few minutes to watch the video. When you’re done, stop by yeah write.
This is yeah write’s nomo Day 16.
I’m Glad I’m Not a Rock.
Last night I was sort of not in a great mood. And then life did the thing that it does and I ended up in a worse mood. Then I was up all night (life things) and my kid woke me up at 4:30 (time change things) and my mood was, dare I say it, sour.
A few years ago I randomly noticed a tweet from some bloggers I didn’t know which took me to their blog. I didn’t know it at the time, but that tweet was going to change my life.
When I couldn’t sleep, I thought about the Simon & Garfunkel song, I Am a Rock. I loved that song the first time I heard it because the lyrics spoke to me. I’m not a rock or an island, but I wished I could make myself either so many times. The rock feels no pain and an island never cries.
A link on the blog I got to from the tweet led me to yeah write. I’ve gone on and on about this writing challenge and the community I found there. This community welcomed me as a writer when I didn’t know if I really was one, but that isn’t the story. The story is that that one little tweet led me to some of the most amazing people.
The thing about amazing people? They know more amazing people.
Writing might make me seem like the type of person who is outgoing and fearless. I might seem like I want a lot of attention, that I’m comfortable in my skin, that I trust myself. More than anything, writing is a compulsion. I write because I have to and I share my work because I have to. I didn’t expect anything in return from writing. I expected to write in a vacuum forever.
I still wanted to be a rock or an island. But I kept meeting amazing people.
Sometimes life has a funny way of taking you down a path you didn’t know you needed to go down. Sometimes it opens you up to more amazing things, more amazing people. And these people lift you up when you’re down and keep building you up until you can stand up alone and not feel like you need to be a rock or an island.
Sometimes you get to be the light for other people, the arms raising them up because they need the boost. Sometimes you remember that friendship, true friendship, is a reciprocal arrangement to support those you love and who love you back. You remember that you deserve that reciprocity. You are worthy of it. They deserve it too and so you give it freely and without condition just like they do for you.
This morning, I needed to be lifted. I was remembering so well why I’d always wanted to be a rock, an island.
But I have this amazing group of people, a brick wall of support, who saw my hurt and jumped in to raise me back up.
Tonight I’m so glad I’m not a rock.
This is yeah write’s nomo writing challenge Day 5.