One Deep Breath-Legacy

fierce determination
to follow your dream
always inspires me

For the past 26 years, I've been amazed and inspired by my son's determination and drive. When he makes a decision, whether it involves the educational path he plans to take, the work he wants to do, the type of car he drives, or choosing a life's partner, he will move heaven and earth to make his dream happen. Throughout his life, his diligence, resourcefulness, and plain fearless hard work, have made me more proud than I can say. So, today's haiku is in honor of his "reverse legacy" to me.

A Rare Rant

Lola Valley Park

There is a man living in the park across the road from my house. He spreads his tattered sleeping bag on the banks of the Rouge River, tucked in between the overgrown bushes and low lying tree branches. His rusty bicycle, propped against one of the oldest, biggest trees I've ever seen, has a wire basket on the front piled high with plastic grocery bags filled with whatever possessions he has managed to acumulate. During the daytime, I see him riding up and down the road, or parked at the gas station on the corner. Sometimes, he's just sitting on the bench in the middle of the green, a couple of those plastic bags by his side, too precious to leave out of his sight for a moment.
I have to admit, he frightens me a little bit. I've tended to avoid walking the dogs down there now, since I'm know I'm sort of trespassing through his living room. But at the same time, he breaks my heart. We've had a very temperate fall, with dry conditions and mild temperatures - but this is late November in Michigan, and the weather is bound to change. What happens when the snowy days of December arrive? And the icy cold of January? The freezing rain we often get in February? That sleeping bag on the riverbank will be a horrible place.
Yes, I'm a little scared, a lot sad, and even more angry. While this man (and who knows how many hundreds more like him in cities and now in the suburbs) goes hungry and homeless, our government spends billions of dollars to finance a war that the majority of the America people now realize is a huge mistake. Every day, I hear stories of men and women who have lost jobs. I know of more than one middle class couple who have lost their home to foreclosure. And each day, prices for food, health care, and fuel rise even more. And now, to add insult to injury, we're being bombarded with the media frenzy to buy! buy! buy! because we're all just desperate for more sweaters, perfume, jewelry and televisions. AGHHH!
When I was a little girl, my grandmother's home was located in the city, and her back yard faced an alleyway where "hoboes" sometimes gathered. Once in a while, they would come to her door, asking for food. She never turned them away, always finding some food in her pantry to pass along to them. I remember her telling me that you should always feed the hungry when they came to you - "You never know," she'd tell me, stuffing a paper grocery sack with sandwiches and fruit, "one of them might be Jesus come back to earth."
I think about that when I see my vagabond neighbor riding his bike down my street. I'm not a terribly religious person, but I believe the basic tenets of Christianity make a lot of sense. "Love your neighbor as yourself,"or "treat others as you would wish to be treated," is advice that could only benefit the world in general if more people adhered to it. In this land of plenty, there shouldn't be so many people who have nothing. There should be so much more wealth to spread around. My small efforts in donating to our church's food bank, clothing drives, and Christmas gift giving programs, seem like such a tiny drop in this very huge bucket.
Normally, I don't rant about social issues because I don't feel well enough informed to share my opinion. But it doesn't take great knowledge to know that people in middle class American suburbs should not be living out of bicycle baskets and sleeping in the park.
It really bothers me.

The End - Or Is It Just the Beginning?

Here it is, the prize for setting 50,000 (well, 50,101 to be exact) words on the page in the last 24 days. The final 2,301 odd words were uploaded just minutes ago, making me officially a "novelist."

Lots of interesting lessons learned from this experience. One was, of course, that I actually had the persistence to finish this, which is a really big revelation for me. I've started a number of projects during the course of my half century on the planet, and many of them have gone down in ignominous flames.

Another was that if you come to the page, the words write themselves. Every book I've ever read on the craft of writing has said this, and it's absolutely true. Most recently I've been reading Elizabeth George's book Write Away, where she says that "So much of writing is showing up...of being at the computer every working day, of not waiting for inspiration to come, because it's not necessarily going to come in the way one might expect it. So much of inspiration rises from the act of writing in a stream of consciousness manner...which seems to get me in touch with a well of creativity that I'm not able to tap into in my everyday life." In most of my experiece completing NaNoWriMo, writing was like turning on a faucet. Once I sat in front of the keyboard and started to type, the words kept coming, sometimes faster than my fingers could keep up. I'm not saying that all the words were necessarily good -but they're on the page, and they're a start.

The most surprising thing was how much I came to care about my characters. When I knew the death of my narrator was imminent, I found the writing really stalled out for the first time. I finally realized that I was putting off getting to that particular portion of the story. Tonight, when I typed the last scene, I was slightly teary eyed because my relationship with these people had ended. It was like saying goodbye to old friends.

As I was writing the last third of the novel, I felt my writing ability move into another level, like it finally "clicked in." It was like the moment when a really difficult piece of music begins to flow perfectly. That was perhaps the most exciting lesson of all - that practicing writing works like practicing the piano. The more you do it, the better you become. And regular practice is also the key. As George wrote, I learned to "show up at the computer" every day about the same time and write my 2000 words. To help me maintain this habit, I'm thinking about starting another blog, just for practice writing, where I can review the books I'm reading on the craft of writing, and participate in the writing exercises they offer.

Although I technically wrote "the end" on this particular story, I think finishing this novel might have been just the beginning of a new dimension to this hobby of mine. I've never thought I had any affinity or interest in writing fiction. I've never thought I had it in me to complete a lengthy piece of writing. Now, I know differently. A very interesting lesson...

Postscript: A major impetus in completing the novel was being part of a group effort - the NaNoWriMo project in general, all the encouragers and friends in the blogsphere, but particularly my "writing buddies" (Star, BB, Tammy, and Greenish Lady) whose progress on their own novels encouraged me to continue. Working with a group to create something wonderful is one of the things I've always loved about my musical activities. I had no idea that the same concept could be so effective in the world of writing!

Sunday Scribblings-Nemesis

nemesis (nem-i'-ses)>n., pl. -ses (-sez') 1. A source of downfall or ruin. 2. An implacable or unbeatable foe. 3. One that inflicts just retribution; avenger. 4. Nemesis Gk. Myth. The goddess of retributive justice or vengenance.
Time. The implacable, unbeatable foe that is, more often than not, my source of downfall and ruin.
From the moment I awake each day, it pursues me like a demon, nudging me while I drink my morning coffee, gaining on me as I finish my morning pages, and in flat out pursuit by the time I shower and dress for work.
For the next six or seven hours, I attempt to outwit it by doing several things at once - making phone calls while I'm driving (dangerous, I know, but after all, I'm at war here!), editing while eating lunch,working on my novel at the mall while my mother does her shopping. Still that evil enemy nips at my heels.
I haven't quite figured out why she's so hell bent on destroying me. I've never tried to cheat her by lying about my age, having plastic surgery, or dating younger men. I've never recklessly wasted her by sleeping until noon, or spending hours in front of the tv eating bonbons. And until recently, I seemed to be able to manage my time quite well - actually, used to have my days quite well controlled. Now it seems, time has taken control of me, and I'm constantly trying to outrun the clock.
Maybe that's the goal - this nemesis time intends to make me surrender control of my life to the whims of the clock, to sacrifice doing the things I love in order to complete the ever increasing number of necessary tasks that fall to me each day.
No, I say! I refuse! I will take this demon time by the throat and make it work for me once more! If it means rising at the crack of dawn and staying awake until midnight, I will not have hours stolen from me!
There. I feel better. But, egad, I have to run! It's nearly 5:00 and I haven't started dinner yet, there's still 1000 words left to write on my novel, I need to get a head start on work for next week, and I really should do some laundry. As usual, I'm running out of time...

Random Thoughts of Thanksgiving

Invited by Bug and further inspired by January (and also because The Novel is Going Nowhere tonight), here are my random thoughts on thankfulness:

~“The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you.” - John E. Southard.

This quote, borrowed from here, came with a challenge to list people in your life who have helped you along the way, those who have encouraged, inspired, comforted, and supported you along life's journey. As I think back throughout my life, there are so many of those, family and friend alike. And just in the past few months, I have made many new, and inspiring friends through this blogging adventure. I name them and thank them in my heart...namaste~

~I am also thankful for the way my writing practice has inspired me. It has enabled me to become more aware and attuned to life and the world around me...the blue of the sky, the vibrant colors of fall, the family of swans I pass each day in the pond on my way to work. I stop, savor, and look at these things more intensely now~

~I'm thankful for the gift of music, and being able to share these next few weeks with my friend who is about to retire after teaching young people for the past 18 years. Such a big change lies ahead for her, and I'm honored to have shared her journey with her. I'm so thankful for the many wonderful young men and women I have met and come to love in my work with her~

~On a more practical note, I'm thankful that I have four days away from my office. It's been an extremely stressful place for the past few days, although I feel I've grown a lot in my abilities and in my relationships with co-workers. As usual, there is sweet with the bitter in life and in work~

~I am eternally thankful for the health and well being of my children, who have recently come through a stressful time and have made some difficult decisions about their own future. As always, they make me proud, and inspire me with their ability to chart their own course~

~I wish all of you many blessings of the day...may you enjoy and savor it, whatever you do...