Since I was an English Major in college, I took several Creative Writing Classes, as you might imagine. The focus of this particular class was writing short stories that were true (aka non-fiction). The class would break up into small groups of three or four, and read/critique each other's work. I remember ONE of those stories twenty years later. I can recall it in fairly accurate detail. Let me share the bare bones of the story with you...
It is the story of an 11 year old girl who wants so much to grow up. She wants to do grown-up things. She has been yearning for the day when she can shave her legs with the razor that she has seen her mother use. She knows how to do it. It is merely squirting out the foam and then gliding that razor up the leg in precise movements. Until all of the foam and hair is gone. That act will define her as a woman. She will leave the hair and childish things behind her. Today is the day. She is finally squirting the foam and using her mother's razor to strip away childhood. This day isn't the way she planned it. There is none of the joy that she expected to feel. None of the freedom. There is no song in her soul. After the act is done, she puts on the black dress hanging on the back of the door, and joins her father. Today is her mother's funeral. After they come home, her father surprises her with a kitten. He knows that today was a difficult one. She nuzzles the new friend to her chest and decides to name her Zoe, meaning Life. The end.
I was crying by the end of that piece, which was actually several pages in length. I had nothing for it by way of critique. It was wonderful. Until that story, I had never even thought about the impact of a non-fictional short story. After that, I did. I knew that a short story of no more than two pages, if it was well written could pull a punch. It could land one right in the gut. The fact that I remember that story is a testament to its power.
Will I ever write anything, long or short, that impacts a person the way that story did me? I don't know. However, this blog is me exercising my writing muscle so that it doesn't get flabby. I might not knock out gems here every day, but I try to write *something* every few days just to stay toned. That way when I jump back into the Writing Game of Life I will be ready. Thank you Christine (the writer of the awesome paper) for the inspiration. Thank you, too, Zoe!
Rating: Life Lesson
Who has inspired you to be a better writer? What stories do you still remember twenty years later?
If this seems familiar, I dedicated a similar video to Everyone on a HERE'S TO YOU THURSDAY post a while back. Okay. Waaaay back. So, you would have to be a long-time reader of this blog to recall it.
It is the flip-side inspirational good stuff to yesterday's ramblings. Delicious, no?
Things went into overdrive insane around here prior to our trip to Ohio and I just couldn't write. I really hate when that happens because then all of the writing just piles up. Then I am totally overloaded with stuff to tell you. And then I feel like I am back to the bullet point post in order to get it all out. Good thing I know you just LOVE them.
Okay, so a long time ago my parents came to the obvious conclusion that this house had to go up for sale because it was just too much house, too much mortgage, simply too much. The question was where to move? And when to put it on the market? All that stuff.
The problems where many. But the biggest lie in that my mom really wants to move back to very south GA (bordering on N. FL), very close to where we used to live and my step-dad has decided he likes it right here. There really isn't a compromise there.
I also want to move back to the FL area.
Just before the vacation the whole thing came to a head. That would be a blow-out argument in the kitchen for the inquisitive minds. Step-dad yelled that he was staying here. Mom calmly said okay. And then it was over. She did add that we were going, though.
And it has been very odd since then. I honestly have no idea what will happen.
When we went to Ohio, we were strongly thinking about changing our plan and moving there instead. The reasons to go are many. All of the family is there. Mom is turning 70 this year. We have friends there, too. The reason against is that winters are brutal. Amazing that the con can have so much influence, but I really can't imagine doing that again.
I hate winter. And mom isn't a fan, either.
However, my old drama teacher from high school, who I loved loved loved, is back to selling real estate and she showed us some houses. We had lunch with her on Monday and looked at houses on Tuesday. It was so much fun.
I think I am skipping ahead....
Our first stop was actually Akron. We had a lovely memorial service for my aunt, who died earlier this year from cancer. It was nice for those who couldn't make it and those who could. It was at a private room in a restaurant. Lots of storytelling and laughter. Minus all the sadness and grief. It was good. Then we spread her ashes in a river that ran by a covered bridge that she loved.
My mom and uncle stood up on the road. My mom said, "There she goes." My uncle said, "She always did like to swim." Yep. That was the kind of day it was. Full of awesome sauce.
Not all of the ashes went in the river that day. A couple days later, my aunt, uncle, mom, and I trekked out to the cemetery where my grandparents are buried to put some in the flower holder of their grave. She decided she want to be buried next to them.
That didn't really work out, so this seemed like a good alternative.
That cemetery takes *forever* to get to, for the record, and I thought this day would never end.
Also, it reinforced for me that your loved ones are not there. I felt absolutely no sense of my grandparents at that place. It was a lovely cemetery, but they were not there.
While in Akron, mom and I stayed with her best friend from h.s. and her husband. That could be a blog all its own. My mom's friend has Parkinson's, and has had for years.
Watching her ongoing struggle and determination not to give in to this disease is inspiring.
Watching her husband be the support system that he is, despite the fact that they overdosed her with medication at the onset, and she no longer remembers him, is also inspiring. She remembers everyone else, but not him. The psychiatrists say that is not uncommon to lose the person you love the most in this sort of situation.
Fortunately, since they got her meds back on track she is able to rebuild new memories. She thinks of him as a nice man and excellent caregiver, but not her husband. And he is okay with that.
He also taught me how to juice with his amazing juicer. It was an item that he bought when his wife was dealing with liver cancer (yes, she appears to have beaten that without chemo or radiation). Anyway, we had great fun whipping up concoctions in the juicer every day.
Now I really want one for my very own. His was about $300 back when. I don't have any idea what they are running for now. I am a bit scared to price them. The key is that it is a cold system. No heat involved. Or so he was telling me. Anyway, it made fantastic juice.
Then I went to a Family Reunion where I didn't hardly know anyone. Those are always fun. But I did reconnect with one person that I did actually know, so that was good:-)
Now, we are back to my hometown and looking at real estate, which I already covered. See how I skip around...
And we stayed with my mom's friend. She is always so much fun. Last time I was there she had no internet. So, imagine my surprise when she had an IPAD and internet. She leaped right into the technological age with both feet and LOVES it. It was hard to pry that thing out of her hands!
Plus, I had wireless for my laptop. Yay. But that meant I got nothing done on my WIP, which I dragged along.
I also met up with a friend of mine from high school that I hadn't seen in 16 years. We were in drama together. You can only imagine what that was like. Well maybe not. But there was no silences. Let me tell you. Talk talk talk talk. And tons of laughter.
Oh, and she took some seriously goofy pictures of us, which I have yet to see, but I expect to pop up on my facebook any day now.
And, did I tell you that I cut my hair and donated it to Locks of Love? I have been meaning to write an entire post about it, but I have been a total slacker. My hair was all the way down to my derriere, so I pulled out the ruler and started measuring.
It was the only thing I could think of to do to show support for my friend's little boy who has cancer. All of the family that I have who had cancer cannot benefit from the gift, but so many other people can. Not everyone can give the gift of 11" inches of hair, but I could, so I did. And I still have hair to spare.
My DNA may suck and my blood would likely be sent back because of my negative antibodies, but I can donate hair. We do what we can DO.
Lastly, this was a really good trip for reconnecting with my brother and sister-in-law. We are getting along so much better now. Since I last saw them, I have worked really hard to forge a good relationship with my SIL and it is paying off. I text her, call her, etc. and things were really good this trip. So, the whole trip felt like a raging success.
The only negative thing I can possibly say is also a positive thing. There is a girl who treated me really badly in junior high school (but we were good friends, prior) and she really hurt my feelings. This deep hurt forced me to find other friends. Because of this "catastrophe" I found my best friend, who I will always treasure.
That catastrophe was a blessing in disguise. Anyway, this old "friend" still lives in the area and we reconnected as adults and things seemed better. I constantly tell myself that people do grow up. So, I have made a point of seeing her when I visit. Anyway, I really thought things were different.
Things got confusing on facebook (don't they always???) and I asked her about it. She responded. I misunderstood, responded, reread what she said, responded again indicating I misunderstood and apologized, and I never heard anything back from her.
Her wedding happened while we were there.
I never heard from her before I left for this trip, even though I sent her several emails. There were no emails back to get together to help her get ready for her wedding, definitely no wedding invite, nada.
Ironically, in her initial message she called me one of her "oldest and dearest friends." I sure hate to think about how she treats her enemies.
Anyway, it was NOT spending time with her that made it possible to reconnect with my drama friend. And I am so glad that happened.
It also reminded me that our definitions of friendship are most likely not the same. These are always good things to know. Sometimes it has to look like pain in order to open your eyes to what actually is.
I am going to shoot some bullets at you and then celebrate my bloggy good fortune with you.
Shelby, my dog, is doing oh so very well after her surgery. They removed her leg all the way up to the shoulder. Her incision was very long for such a little dog, but she was a champ. It took her a few days to find her new center of gravity and then she was good. She is now running, jumping, playing, etc. I find that I have much to learn from her resiliency.
My parents are in therapy (that now makes all of us), separately, but there you go. It appears to be working. They are actually talking through their issues. There. And at home. And there have been no more instances where-in I have felt uncomfortable. However, I am prepared should that happen again. Funny, how just knowing what you WILL do takes the nerves away.
I got botoxed for my migraines on Thursday. Yikes. I cannot see the pleasure in doing that for fun. We are now waiting and seeing. If it makes a difference in my migraines in the next two weeks, it will be considered successful. If not, it won't. Simple as that.
I happened to catch the end of Kenny Chesney's concert on youtube. It was the kickoff for his new record: Welcome to the Fishbowl. I have seen him actually live in concert two times.
The first time was at a fair in Michigan when he had maybe one song on the radio. No one really knew who he was. He was the Opener. I do remember someone yelling some off color remark to him from the floor and he blushed so hard that I could see it from my first row cushy seat just under the awning. I thought it was the cutest thing I had seen.Ever.
I was thinking about that blush when I saw him the second time at the Columbia Civic Center for his No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem tour. I don't remember how many times he had been named Entertainer of the Year at that time. The Center was huge. It had a huge screen for those in the nosebleed section. And he came up in an elevator under the floor. Women were throwing their panties at him. He would catch them and throw them backstage, and never miss a beat. I sighed and quietly said a goodbye to the boy who blushed all those years ago. He was long gone. Fame had worked him over good.
Anyway, I still enjoyed that concert. He is doing a lot more writing I think. His stuff really comes from the heart. He likes writing about that boy he was, the man he is now, and how he got here.
Okay, I guess the rest can wait. If you missed my very long V-Log. You can backpedal through here and watch it. If I ever do that sort of thing again, I will learn how to EDIT so that it is much shorter. There is definitely such a thing as too much Robin. If you want proof of that, ask my mom. She will tell you.Now, let us move on to the bloggy portion of this event.
Gossip Girl over at ~~Whatever~~ honored me with an award. These are the rules.
1. Post the rules on your blog.
2. Name five of your most fabulous moments, either in real life or in the blogosphere.
3. Name five things you love.
4. Name five things you hate.
5. Pass the ribbon on to five other bloggers. (Leave them a comment to notify them of their win.)
5 of my most fabulous moments, either in real life or in the blogosphere...
1. Every single time I have been onstage for a show. I can't really differentiate one show from another because they are all fabulous. But when I am onstage, I know I am alive.
2. All of the time I spent at summer camp. That was like soul food.
3) The moment my junior high school bully came up to me the first day of high school like we were buddies because she was lost. It was a big high school. She had intimidated the crap out of me for three years and she blew it in one day because THAT DAY I saw her for who she really was and she lost all of her power over me. In fact, they all did. They were all just insecure people trying to feel bigger. For the first time in three years, I was FREE. They only had power over me because I gave it to them. That day, I took it back. It was AMAZING.
4) The day I read ILLUSIONS by Richard Bach. It totally changed how I saw the world.
5) The day my first boyfriend said, "You're beautiful." I had been told I was pretty on the inside and had a great personality, etc. But he was the first person who ever said I was actually pretty on the outside. Until he said it, I didn't believe it. I think it is sad that you need one other person to say it before you can accept it as a truth about yourself. However, until that moment I believed all sorts of things about me but that was NOT one of them. I will always love him for that.
Name 5 Things You Love
1) A book that you cannot put down and must read in one sitting.
2) Just about any Joss Whedon series.
3) Just about any game (card, board, etc.)
4) I am still Jonesing for Marshall Mathers. Is he ever going to put out a new record????
5) Pretty much anything that touches my heart and makes me laugh, cry, feel inspired. This can come in pretty much any form and that is what makes it so great. The world is full of inspiration and hope and love and beauty. I love all of it. I want to eat it, swim in it, pour it over my head, pet it ( if it's my dog), hold it close, and let it go.
Name 5 Things You Hate
1) Cruelty
2) Disrespect
3) Lack of compassion
4) People who take advantage of those weaker than themselves. Manipulators. Liars.
5) Arguing over politics and religion. You're just asking for trouble.
Pass this on to 5 Other Bloggers.
1. Liza at Middle Passages. She is in a writing thing and needs blogging material.
Mrs. B featured my blog on her blog. She is participating in a hop. I don't have the energy for a hop. In fact, I think I need to go back to the bullet point style. I can feel my brain about to go into the crazy loop.
Whew, such a relief. I can now just fritter around like a hamster on a wheel and it is totally cool.
Sadly, I feel a lot like a hamster on a wheel.
Running and getting nowhere.
Well, I did go the library, pharmacy, and grocery store today.
Sadly, the pharmacy said that there was an hour wait on Rxs, so I just left. I could have cried or something, but I had nothing left. So I left.
I think I have two more pills left so it isn't a total emergency. Yet.
I actually did go on youtube for a few minutes and look up some Ellie footage. Why don't we have a looksee? Roll that footage, blogmeister:
If you click the bottom right it will enlarge it to fill your screen. The escape key will bring it back to normal size.
If you didn't understand why I love Ellie so much before, I bet you have a better handle on it now. She totally goes to battle for the people she loves. I am down with that.
I have been distracting myself with facebook and this game on there called Gardens of Time. I like it because it is a memory game. It is kind of like Where's Waldo. You have to memorize the scene and you play it over and over.
Why is this important? With my chronic fatigue and migraines, my memory is terrible. It is actually stretching and working my memory muscle.
Before all this went down with my dad, I started doing beginners yoga.
I am a very odd case. Even though I have fibromyalgia (which means aching joints and muscles), I was super flexible as a child. So, I am still more flexible than average as an adult.
So, I have a high flexibility, even though everything hurts like crazy. So, I can do yoga. It just hurts. And, I don't do some of the postures very well (aka downward dog).
My doctor says just to do the best I can without straining.
Right now, I am not doing at all.
I am mentally trying to get there again.
It is all a brain game folks. That was something that I already knew, but reading Chris's blog, A Deliberate Life, reinforced.
Do you feel like I have I haven't really said anything? Me too.
There are a few ideas that swirling around in my head. Mom and I listened to a portion of a book on CD on the drive. One of those ideas was "there is no stopping an idea whose time has come."
I think about that a lot with regard to my Big Idea. I have an idea for a non-profit that I have shared on here. If you want to know more click on My Idea in the sidebar.
He also talks about Inspiration. Inspiration coming from God. And when you are in tune with your Inspiration that is when Action happens. Things just start rolling out. There is no stopping an idea whose time has come.
And then I think about that pastor who said that I was blessed by God.
And hearing a voice telling me that this is what I was supposed to be doing.
I know that I need to get past all of this grieving so that I can get inspired, so that I can get well, so that I can get into alignment with my idea.
Because there is no stopping an idea whose time has come.
Okay, I lied. It wasn't the drugs. I was just looking for a catchy blog title in the style of Misery.
It looks like I am going to blog in the style of all of you before this is said and done. Look out. You could be next. Today, I am going to blog a la Misery minus the fashion and the models. Actually, that really makes it look NOT like her blog at all. Well, I will tackle lots of different subjects.
Here is a video I posted on writing a novel quite a while ago. I have quite a few new followers, so it may be new to you. It blew my mind when I watched it. I was in the process of writing a novel (not my first) and I finally understood why I never actually completed one. The video is short but enlightening. Remember to turn off the idiot box music player at the bottom of the page.
To update you on my own novel writing: I finally hunkered down and wrote The End. It was sad news people when I watched that video and understood that I had written about 18 chapters and had yet to write The End. I immediately stopped writing and started thinking about The End. Big Trouble in Robin Land. I had written myself into corners I didn't like. I tried several times to work within these restrictions. Finally, I said screw it and wrote The End that I wanted. Yeah, that meant major rewriting all through the novel. I am almost done connecting the middle to The End. However, I have hit a stage of "not wanting to write for the last few days." Not good.
I have backdoored my way through blogger all the way down the line. People: I don't understand how to use this site and I pretty much luck up every time I find anything. That is no lie. Well, I backed into a writer's site. A published writer. Did you know that published writer's follow other writers? They also follow literary agents and sites that tell you how to write a good query letter? It felt like hitting the mother lode. Or is that mother load? I think I was right the first time. Who cares? You know what I mean. The downside of this was TMI (too much information). As in brain overload. I think I short circuited myself. And that might be the cause of the blockage.
Yesterday, I read this blog. It is short and worth reading. Derek Molata, out of the goodness of his heart, gives three tips he has found that work in overcoming the dreaded writer's block. (Yeah, he is someone worth following.)
Now, about my Music Theory class. I did really well in the written part of the class. It is somewhat mathematical and you can study for that. If I remember this right (it was a long time ago, folks), most of the time you were given the note that the sopranos would sing (top note in the treble clef) and the bass note (the low note in the bass clef) and given the key you were working with, you had to fill in the rest of the chord (the alto and tenor notes). That wasn't so bad. Now, for those poor souls that I mentioned that didn't read music but could play anything, all of it was torture. It had to be. I didn't hear the complaining, but there were four guys in a band and they were good. I think one of them could read music. I honestly don't know how they got through that class without throwing things.
For me, it was the listening portion of that class that had me crying in my room every Wednesday and Friday. The teacher was actually very cool ~ the best one of the bunch, but that part of the class was torture. He would give you the key. Play a note on the piano and try to get you to hear the next note. Somebody shoot me. That turned into starting with one note and him playing bars of music. You had to get the notes right and the values of the notes right. You got the key and the starting note and then three bars of notes. So, if you miss the first note played after the given note.... well, you're screwed.
I graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA. I made As. I expected to make As. Anything less than As was unacceptable. Not to my parents. To me. The first three months on those listening tests I made straight Fs. Thus, the crying. Every week. I don't remember when the Fs turned into Ds, but it didn't stop the crying. Ds are not that much better than Fs. My attitude about that class turned into, "I hate Music Theory." Once you cross that line, you are destined to fail. I promise you that. Once you hate it, it hates you right back. I took voice lessons. I stopped practicing. That did nothing to improve my voice. I didn't care.
The guy that taught rhythm first semester worked with us on the piano the second semester. By then, I was already more than halfway out the door. I remember a specific day when we were all plugged in to our pianos. We all had headphones on so that we could hear him, and he wore headphones so that he could tune in specifically to hear our "electric" piano and/or our voices. I can't remember what he asked me to play, but I had not practiced whatever it was. I laughed at him. Yes, I did. I laughed at my professor. I believe I followed it up with a "You're kidding, right?" He wasn't kidding. After listening to me hatchet my way through whatever scale it was he wanted me to play, he stopped me mid-way and agreed that I was not competent at that. I think I smirked and nodded. We had to have been close to the end of second semester. I had to have known that Music Theory and I were about to part ways. It is amazing how free you are to be an asshat when you know you are about to kiss something goodbye.
As for me and the listening portion of Music Theory, I finished with test scores of Cs. Fs to Cs. I think that I got a B in the class overall. I could have done worse because my Listening grade should have brought my average lower than that. I talked to my professor after the grades came out and asked how I did so well considering that I really averaged a "D" in his portion of the class. He said that he graded on improvement. He thought that moving from straight Fs to Cs showed a great deal of improvement. It was Fs for a long time. He respected the fact that I didn't give up.
We spend so much time looking for truth. So much time traveling up and down the emotional scale. Some people actually don't travel that far at all. Depression to anger and back. Depression to anger and back. We wonder why there isn't a book or books to explain things. Something to help us get on track. Well, there are. We just don't read them. Or, if we do read them, we don't utilize the knowledge that we have. We are somewhat perverse like that. Our world operates on The Law of Attraction. It isn't unfair. It treats everyone the same. You get what you think about. No exceptions. You can only attract to you that which vibrates in harmony with you. If you are depressed, you will attract other depressed people. Like attracts like. If you say, "Well, I think about money all of the time and I still don't have any. What's up with that?" Well, you're thinking about the lack of money. And you are still getting it. The lack, that is. You will have to turn off the idiot box music player again if you checked out Derek Molata's blog and my idiot box music is back on.
I can't say that I have managed to take this law and use it for my full benefit. I haven't. However, I believe in its truth, so I keep shooting at it. It's not like Music Theory where I can just opt out and change majors. It's life. I know from experience that I get better with practice. I had a professor that taught me that even that is about more than just a grade. It's about not giving up.
I found my first Quote Book about a month ago in a box of old books. From there it, and the rest of the books, found a new home in the guest room closet. I have no inspiration today. My thoughts are not positive, happy ones and yet I promised to post something every day. And then I remembered my Quote book, aka my loophole. I found a way out; I don't have to post MY thoughts today. Today I can post thoughts that have inspired me or simply stopped me in my tracks to reevaluate.
"I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind." ~Emily Bronte
"Experience is not what happens to you; it is what you do with what happens to you." ~Aldous Huxley
"To get the attention of a large animal, be it an elephant or a bureaucracy, it helps to know what part of it feels pain. Be very sure, though, that you want its full attention." ~Kelvin Throop, III
"In the long run you hit what you aim for. Therefore, though you should fail immediately you had better aim at something high." ~Henry David Thoreau
"People will sometimes forgive you the good you have done them, but seldom the harm they have done you." ~W. Somerset Maugham
"Don't oppose forces, use them. God is a verb, not a noun." ~R. Buckminister Fuller
"While the right to talk may be the beginning of freedom, the necessity of listening is what makes that right important." ~Walter Lippman
"Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy." ~F. Scott Fitzgerald
"Well, being divorced is like being hit by a Mack truck. If you live through it, you start looking very carefully to the right and the left. ~Jean Kerr
"All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they really happened and after you are finished reading one you will feel that it all happened to you, and afterwards it all belongs to you." ~Ernest Hemingway
