I haven't blogged furiously and regularly in a while so I'm grateful for each little red dot that shows up in my Feedjit map. Because I've neglected you. In fact I've pruned you. Did you notice? I've cut large swaths of posts, streamlining my ramblings into a hopefully coherent, essay-ish patchwork.
Much has changed. I've started drinking coffee again for instance. What a high! Also, the kids are now old enough that, well Hamish can read, and understands that I write about him. The kids show palpable embarrassment (in the form of hissy-fits and arm-yankings) these days when I talk about them in front of their faces. Blogging about them seems like a betrayal. Plus, now that they're older—Hamish just turned seven and Stella will be five in May—they're not as insufferable anymore and therefore, not as meaty with material. Like, I can lose my shit at them and then say, Jeez, sorry I just lost my shit, and they'll say, it's okay Mom, and my shit-loss does not stink up the whole day. Not that they're angels. They annoy me to no end. But on the whole I'd say parenting is getting more enjoyable. I think when they are in their thirties I will say to other moms, Oh I love this age.
I'm sure I just jinxed it.
The other reason I haven't blogged is because I've been devoting my time to writing other things. Writing novels. Plural. I mentioned working on a novel a few months back and then didn't mention it again for fear of having to let you know that I'd abandoned the project as you are my priest and I am your sinner. But I didn't abandon it. I finished it and sent it out. I am waiting to hear back, my throat poised on the chopping block.
Waiting for a YES is Grueling and the only remedy for that is to Keep Writing. So I've started another novel, still in its infancy and I have realized a thing or five:
1) With my kids so independent and my bank account so scrawny and my dreams still unrealized, I am finally Ready to Work as a Novelist. I may or may not be deluded in saying so but, This is What I Want To Do For a Living. Anyway I suck at everything else and I'm not interested in anything else.
I'm sure I just jinxed it.
2) I feel most comfortable writing about romance, infatuation, hungry, star-crossed love, and...
3) That's OKAY. There is no need to reinvent the wheel here, and
3A) There are many relevant themes that can be woven through a romance, many opportunities to have fun with the written word, and
3B) It is fun. (Who knew?)
4) I hoisted so many hopes on my first novel that I lost momentum when it didn't turn into endless opportunities and easy money. Okay I did have a kid or two right around that time, which did shrivel my career motivation for a while...
4A) I'm forty-freaking-one and I have Big (possibly delusional but according to Will Smith, that's a good thing) Dreams and I'm the only one who can make them come true. Time ain't stopping for no one, dig? I'm just a late bloomer on the Work Ethic concept. It's good news. Because,
5) I love living in the world in my head, my fantasy world, even if gets lonely and scary and bleak and stormy. I have lived there most of my life, and it feels good to have a productive outlet for it.
So here's to Keeping Going, even if it leads to humiliating failure, which I will most likely share with you.
Or else I can just delete this post.
Yeah.
In other news, I have found a new way to waste loads of time I don't really have and procrastinate becoming a gazillionaire novelist: Celebitchy. I thought I'd cured myself of my celeb habit with Star Craving Mad, but then I discovered the satisfying and often hilarious site one day when I was scratching an increasingly atypical Madonna itch and have spent Scary Amounts of Time on it. I highly recommend.
And also! Random pictures!
My mother below, post-stroke, my favorite version thus far, Ellie 2.0. Channeling Axl Rose, minus the scary plastic surgery.
Bryan and Stella holding their lumbar spines and scouring the creek bed.
We rock-collected one sunny afternoon. It was kind of sublime.
I love rocks.
Found this impromptu installation.
Creepy-cool.
Hamish is desperate for a mention in Lego Magazine. That's his space station. I hope one day his creation makes it in.
Hamish's birthday gathering. Cinderella made an appearance which I found dazzling. The boy was more interested in the Bakugans.
That's it. A longy.
xxx
4 comments:
Here's to keeping going. Imminent celebrity. And more blog posts!
"I think when they are in their thirties I will say to other moms, Oh I love this age. " that line is priceless.
your mom looks awesome, i'm envying her cheekbones and how she carries off the scarf around her head with such elan. so glad for her quick recovery.
could you look more styling in your all black rock collecting ensemble?
and i love stella's look in the last pic whilst hamish and his friend check out the spoils of his birthday booty.
xox
thanks GP and AP, yes cheers to all that.
I just realized that the whole point of that blog was supposed to say, the blog did its work, it led me to writing another novel. and I never said it. funny how writing does that, veers you in other directions...anyway thanks for the love y'all.
Congrats on the novel(s)! Completion of the cycles feels so good.
And I'm in my thirties, I'll have to ask my mom if she's into this age ;-)
Post a Comment