Tuesday, August 26, 2014

When Do Writers Celebrate?

Getting a manuscript finished does not mean you will get an agent to represent it.

Getting an agent does not mean you will get a sale.

Getting a sale to a publisher does not mean the book will make it all the way to publication.

Making it to publication does not mean it will have decent sale numbers. Or awards. Or good reviews. Or anything.
So when do we get to celebrate?

I’d say- celebrate every one of these milestone. LIFE IS TOO SHORT.
No, this is not an announcement. I celebrate every milestone, and have had almost every one of the above mentioned set-backs. I’m just doing my usual thing here- giving my four-cents worth.

Chin up, brave dreamers. Every bit counts.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Warning: RANT

Or: How I Became a RUDE Person

I’m no different from ninety eight percent of Americans. Inundated with sales calls, advertisement on sites, the airwaves, and practically everywhere I look, I count on my home being my sanctuary. I willingly climb the many steps that form an obstacle-course to our door, because they have kept most door-to-door solicitors away. Who wants to walk up two flights of stairs of a now-in-construction path when some homes have front doors at street level?
A few years back, the lauded Do-Not-Call Registry stopped stopping anyone. I still had the front door, though. But for some reason the unofficial moat is no longer working. The floodgates have broken, and the solicitors have been floating in at an alarming rate all summer long.

On our neighborhood Email group, alerts have been coming of rude solicitors who hurl insults, yell, and walk away name-calling. The number of unique descriptions has increased from once a week to a few a day, every day. Since it’s not a crime to knock on a stranger’s door or even walk away yelling at them, the police have no interest in such. The neighbors are left to  videotaping and sharing, and rubbing our ears in the hope we haven’t heard what we thought we did, then rubbing our hands in frustration. We glance at our NO SOLICITORS signs, and wonder why they didn't look as pathetic to us when we hung them up.
The word solicitous, which is related to solicitor, is defined as being concerned, caring, considerate, attentive, mindful, and thoughtful. Oh, really?

I used to be nice at the door. I used to listen and consider. I used to think about what the huffing ‘n puffing person had to say. After all, they came all the way up from the street. Only my very best friends would deem to attempt this feat, and only because they valued my company.
The other day DD told me my abrupt way of speaking to a solicitor who came back after I asked her, nicely, not to, was rude. “They are people,” she said.

I realized I had become rude.

Gimme’ your tired, yearning to breath free. I no longer know which of us are the poor. I should probably go away to recharge on some island for a while. Only I suspect the road to it will be littered with billboards eager to make sales/converts/conquests of the huddled masses. 

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Packing, Shipping, Moving…

So here I am, an assistant packer to DS who’s moving to his second apartment. In a few days, when this is done, I’ll be assistant shipper to DD who is moving a lot farther, and then an assistant mover-in (a glamorous term for a tag-along) as she checks-in to her residence only three thousand miles away.

And then…
Back here, to what is euphemistically referred to as the empty nest. Empty? Not my cluttered abode. But without what has been the hearth and soul of it, the nippers.

My late mother, who was an avid bird-watcher, told me chicks leave the nest once and then return, before leaving for good. My family got to observe many nests of different birds and their hatchlings, who found our home and yard a desirable place to build theirs. My mother’s observations proved right.

And so it is with humans- they leave but return before they leave permanently. But it is never the same. A new stage is set, and the parents must move on to the third act.
But I can’t quite grasp it, because I’m too busy. That’s a good thing. Otherwise my grip may lose its grasp, and I’d become a puddle of muddle.

Advice, support, and good recipes welcome!

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

August Days

If you can explain this quotation to me, please do. I’m still thinking about it.

Some love summer, because less is expected of us in summer. The pace slows, and for those who take real vacations in other locations, August is a most likely time.

We dress lightly and do most anything half heartedly. Even where the heat is oppressive, the image of cool lemonade on a wrap-around porch is more August than any other. The burdens and undertakings are still a month away, around the corner, as soon as September peeks.
So put your feet up and allow it to sink in. There’ll be plenty of time for misery later.