This month has been packed with lit goodness. The incredible inaugural issue of Literary Namjooning dropped and it’s more beautiful than I imagined. Thank you, Hema, Lakshmi, and Melissa! What you have created is a loving tribute and besides all the great pieces – including mine – paired with the artwork, the contributor notes are both interesting and helpful. I’m sad for the reason this zine came into existence, but lightened that such pain transformed into great beauty.
NUNUM, a paying market, accepted “Spiders Everywhere.” It’s live and I’m paid, so awesome enough for the month, right? But there’s more.
Let’s talk workshops. My piece in Literary Namjooning was written in a Kathy Fish Fast Flash Reunion. NUNUM accepted one of three I wrote in the Cheryl Pappas workshop in January. I took a class with Amber Sparks this month and another Kathy Fish workshop this past Saturday. If past performance is any indicator, I may have more acceptances soon. Hahaha. All I can do is hope, and hone, and prepare for a presentation. Yes, that’s right. I will be reading at Drop Hammer on Halloween with Karen Wyent, a poet I met at the WCoNA conference in March.
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At the Colden Arts Festival, we bought some Christmas presents and we have new art. Thank you Julie Tuttle for painting & framing the picture in the middle that works perfectly in this corner!
Working toward winter, coupled with having company come spend the night, has left the house in an acceptable level of nonclutter, plus it’s still sort of clean, so knock on wood, I can get back to the novel rewrite now. If the animals allow it, but I turn around and find the cat is trying to send the dog back to where we got her and I have to figure out where the cat even got a box – let alone one of that size…
So, all of this, plus birthdays of some of my favorite people happened, as well as a canine sad so long and a nearly human one close to my sister, plus a ton of other stuff, but I put this off until the last minute and need to wrap it up here.
Thank you SO much for stopping by and for the read! Be good to you in October!
Hello and thank you so much for meeting me here in this humid heat. What a joy it has been to work outside in the mornings before it became too hot to move. I just love the dawn, Canadian fire-tinged air, and my own sarcasm. How have you been? Are your days melting together, too?
The novel editing has turned into a pre-surgery evaluation. I’ve broken the middle into a list of occurrences, discussions, and information reveal. Once that is done – and I am close – I can begin the cut and paste. I hope to use this table (and the leaves) for this, but it might be enduring a rejuvenation soon. I’m excited about the changes to start but procuring the proper material has been challenging – well, a lot harder to find than I anticipated.
Someone around here – NOT me – had another birthday, so we celebrated properly with an ice-cream cake with shiny unicorn candles. Someone hid the Barbie ones, but I won’t speculate about who might be the culprit. I mean – it’s tough to figure out mysteries like this. Two people in one house, and if you didn’t move the thing on the shelf the cats and the dog cannot reach, it must have been a time-travelling pirate who broke into the house take that one thing, right? Damn pirates…
Otherwise, the tree outside the bathroom came down before it had a chance to fall in a direction we didn’t want it to fall, i.e. the roof.
And, before you go, I want to tell you one thing more – I am incredibly happy and dare I say proud? to be included in the inaugural issue of Literary Namjooning, which will drop soon. I don’t care if you read my story, per se, I mean, I do, but please check this publication out if you are a reader or a writer. The story of its origin is beautiful and Melissa, Hema, and Lakshmi are among the best people to interact with on-line. Thank you to them for including my piece, “How It Is Done,” which was written during a Kathy Fish Fast Flash Reunion – I think the last one held in a Zoetrope office. Thank you, Kathy! Thank you, Rina Fosati, for your sharp eye in the editing. Just a huge thank you to you, too, for stopping by and for the read! I appreciate it. I appreciate you. May cool happiness come your way!
Hello. Hi. Nice to see you again – and if this is your first visit, welcome. There’s a contact page link around here somewhere if you need it, though I get most of my messages the old-fashioned way: through the crows.
I’m here, strapped to a gyro, trying to balance all of the things – as well as work on the revision of my novel, Foam. I am…happier with it, but not necessarily with myself. I am going so slow. Ten pages ahead, go back thirty and reweave a plot point, start again. And again. It is a rewrite. I am going deeper into ideas and values held and taught to girls – and by deeper, I mean subtly pointing it out in prose. (Why yes, I do grow lofty about my own work – especially typing at a standing desk. I don’t know why. This is why I don’t think I would be a good teacher. I fear I’d be tyrannical in a classroom. “You will kill that darling, do you hear me? Is that an adverb I see? 57 pull ups and you can watch me weep as you do them because you ermine-eyed scribbling child, you used a cliché later on in the same paragraph.”)
Congrats Damien !
(I have no pictures to prove it, I did wear a bathing suit while attending this graduation party on Lime Lake. Being comfortable enough with my own body to get so close to naked in front of friends and acquaintances was a nice side benefit to my true intention – which is to keep my body in shape to avoid surgery and/or replacement parts for as long as possible. I really don’t care for doctors. The morning Pilates/weight training/cardio routines are nothing but torture, but so is the idea of being cut into with a scalpel by a hungover surgeon, thus, I do A LOT of mat work.)
Speaking – sort of – about that, many thanks to Tamara Grisanti and the editors and staff at Coffin Bell. It’s my second appearance there. I finished reading a previous issue in 2018, came up with the idea for this, wrote There’s No Such Thing as a Free Lunch , and then it sat there on the computer until sending it out to the only place I could see as it’s home. So, see? Sometimes, writerly things do work out.
The path to the labyrinth and the ones to the creek were finally mown, but the weedeater remains broken. Seven rows of wood have been put up and once the mornings return to being pleasant enough to work outside for more than two minutes before my eyelids sweat, I will. The electric fence for the puppy is operational, and the training has begun. We’ve eaten green beans, peas, and tomatoes freshly picked from the garden. At night in the newly rewoven lounge chair, I’ve watched bats dance across the full moon.
And, as is often the case, the smoothly working outside masks inner turmoil. Dear lord and heaven, marriage is hard, even when we’re agreeing. Strapping myself to a chair to write & rewrite the same set of words is hard, too. The latest entry to the page of quotes reads, “People do not decide their futures, they decide their habits and their habits decide their futures.”
So, I step away from the mental spin cycle, open the goal book I started in January, re-read the quarterly breakdowns, find the to-do book, list 4 tasks to work on when I need to do something other than writing, but mostly this month, all I have been doing is writing, with seemingly little to show for the effort, but the habit. Oh, also stressing. Lots of that this month.
This is one of the two places I’m privileged to practice my writing habits. The other is basically the bleak hidden corner described in Orwell’s 1984, but with better light.
I hope your July was mighty fine. Thanks for stopping by and for the read!
At the beginning of the year in a Nancy Stohlman class, I dreamed a few dreams and wrote them out as 10-year goals. Those were divided into smaller ones, which were divvied up further so I now have a printed out list of what needs to be done by quarter, with a monthly checklist of things to do in each. I’m happy to report it is going well despite my occasional forays into freak-outs when there are any curve balls thrown my way. For whatever reason, I respond well to lists. This new structure has also freed me of some of my worry, but not my anxiety. To ease that between acupuncture appointments, I’ve made the upper greenhouse whiter with paint and returned a few of the plants early from their usual summer hang out on the patio. Opening any window lets in the babble of the creek. Sometimes there’s a breeze. In the morning, the light is even more dazzling than this.
As with the past few summers, getting back to the labyrinth hasn’t happened as often as I would have preferred, so this space serves as a calming spot where I drink tea, eat apples, and lately, edit. I didn’t think this was where I’d be, but I embrace it. Having the year-end accomplishment list I made was a heavy lift because I aimed for acceptances with print. As of now, I have had work appear in two that I can already hold in my hand in June. Trust me, it’s extra thrilling because both include work from fellow writers I love and respect. Again and again and again, thank you Kim Chinquee for inclusion in Elm Leaves Journal’s Eclipse Issue and thank you to The Drevlow for accepting my piece for Issue 11 of Bull. (Look at those covers. I’d buy them even if I weren’t in them.) The year isn’t over, but with that spectacular success crossed off, I’m on to the next ones.
The book edit I did earlier this spring sat for weeks. I returned and have been correcting it at a line edit/add a red herring here/downplay this, but mention it hard enough to be memorable stage of editing. (And by the way, may I offer apologies to all my poor beta readers who read even part of this mess. Especially Chel! I am so sorry I didn’t know how to make it better in an earlier draft!) I did think this read through would have me patting myself on the back for the clever bits, and there were a few, but in this draft, it’s apparent it needs more fine-tuning and craft. (I read, learn more, and then take scissor blades to phrases I’ve refused to cut in previous drafts. Killing your darlings can be gruesome and brutal – especially when you set the cuttings on fire to warm your soul with their flame…but maybe that’s just me and my editing style.)
Anyway, the problem is that I have perfectionist tendencies and could spend the next thirty years on two sentences if I wanted to, but if I want to reach the goals on my list, I can’t. So while I’m not going fast, I’m striving for this version to be the good enough draft which will aid me in the next step, but I also want it to be over already. Last night I ran into another area I wanted to cut and paste into a better flow, but allowed myself to rest instead of delving into that messy spot when it was nearly midnight. Today, refreshed, I’m going to tackle other things. The weather of western New York decides the flow of which work is tackled and when. Besides writing, there is wood. I’ve been putting up what I split and stacked last year. As another row in the shed gets filled, I am happily in awe. All the time spent last year working on splitting is paying off and for that, I’m grateful. Though I itch to finish the book, I visit the white room and calmly remind myself there will be other days where I’ll want to stay in from the heat or days when it’s too rainy, and move on to the next task with less worry. A change in perspective helps, and sometimes you see chipmunks hanging upside down, too.
Besides the enormous help I feel I received from Nancy’s course, goals aren’t met without hard choices being made. There’s a meme without attribution I saw somewhere and I liked it so much I wrote it down to remind myself of its truth: Marriage is hard. Divorce is hard. Choose your hard. Obesity is hard. Being fit is hard. Choose your hard. Being in debt is hard. Being financially disciplined is hard. Choose your hard. Communicating is hard. Not communicating is hard. Choose your hard. Life will never be easy. It will be always be hard, but we can choose our hard. Pick wisely. ~Proper accreditation to be placed here if I ever find it.
Early on in our relationship, Husband and I decided to follow the cliché of saving for a rainy day which helped when the roof was damaged, and now, for this.
Of course the calculated time saved on working on the broken tractor has been transferred to wagon problems, but I’m focusing on the good parts, here. He can now mow the lawn and leave me out of that chore altogether so I have more time to edit and notice the beautiful surprises like a mountain laurel in bloom. I didn’t plant it, but I happily share this unexpected delight from Mother Nature. Isn’t it pretty?
I’m also happy to report Bertie graduated her first round of obedience course. Here’s our happy grad, just before eating her mortise board.
So yes, there is slow, steady, sloggy progress going on here. We’re making choices and enjoying the side benefits. After I post this, I’m going to pick fresh, ripe and sun warmed blackberries from bushes I transplanted last year to a more convenient spot, where happily, they took.
May all your goals be possible to reach and all your roots grow deep. Thank you for stopping by and for the read!
Ah, novel rewriting, what a treat. If you’ve not enjoyed the process, may I suggest not having most of the action in your book take place in an attic? As I sat in the corner of the library, typing, fixing, adding, and cutting to get this novel even better than it was, I swear I developed claustrophobia.
I’m tearing myself out of that mindset by digging dirt. The first spring after started the no till garden idea? Clear delineation of where I was able to use the garden weasel to rid the area of dandelions by the root vs. where the cages were and I could not weed. Seeing that I didn’t have as much work as I thought I’d have, I went to a nursery to buy plants and zap – randomly ran into fellow WNY writer, Christina Abt.
Zucchini, yellow squash, cucumbers, bush beans, peas, jalapeno, and green pepper plants are in the ground and -knock on wood- semi-slug protected by copper. The twelve holes for the Roma and Heinz tomato plants are dug and after dinner tonight, I could be done with the planting. Yesterday, I made thirty-two thin pancakes for the enchiladas. I made a big tin of fudge nut bars that need to be cut. With proper portioning and freezing, this is how I am buying future time.
Time runs faster once June hits. I might be camping in the Alleghenies with Kim Chinquee and Nancy McCabe in a few weeks. I might be weeding. I look forward to popping in to spend time with Rina Fosati again soon. If Husband and I make it to 7pm, we’ll have been married 24 years today. A new riding lawnmower may be our mutual anniversary gift, which you must admit beats the hell out of the sump pump we went and bought on my birthday a few years back. I’ve had some nice rejections, does this precede acceptances in the coming days? Only the flowers know.
Speaking of flowers, did I mention “Blooming” made it into Litmora’s third issue? This flash is how “Near Eden, New York,” a previous novel I wrote, begins. Gooseberry Pie did me a solid by including “Hearts Compounded” in its 12th issue. Do check out other pieces from the one – or a previous issue. Six sentences? Come on, you have time to read one or two, don’t you?
Reading is an exercise I’ve been doing less than Pilates these days. Sometimes a break from words is needed, so I’m taking a short one to enjoy my day.
Please enjoy the day you’re having. Thank you so much for stopping by and for the read!
I thought March was spectacular and then April came around. Sure, I had another birthday, which is fine, I guess, but eh the “aging” bit could go. I did receive amazing gifts of love through words, deeds, FB posts, flowers, and even presents. Thank you all and here is the picture of the cake I honestly would have shared with you had you dropped in at the time:
The 5th had me in Buffalo for a workshop where I had the opportunity to reconnect with members of my old writing group that met in Hamburg at the Comfort Zone and pitched the novel I’m rewriting to an agent. She gave me her card and told me to query her when it was done, so in the parlance of that structure, it was a victory. I’d no more than spun around and it was time for the solar eclipse. We did it up in style.
Friends from Chicago arrived and we had dinner with them and the amazing Tuttle clan. Friday, the 12th, thankyouthankyou Kim Chinquee hosted the Elm Leaves Eclipse Launch where not only was I listed as special guest and ELJ Contributor on the posters, I read with her talented students, but also with Rachel L. Johnson and Justin Karcher. Seriously, if you know anything about the Buffalo Lit scene, you know reading with Justin is a Buffalo bucket list must do and I did it. Thank you to everyone who was a part of the launch! AND my niece Ashley showed up – as well as the couple from Chicago as a surprise, which it truly was, Thank you Robert and Theresa. Because of Kim, there are pictures of this incredible event. Thank you!
Thank you Kim also for another wondrous Drop Hammer. This month, it was Nancy McCabe. I’ve got her, “Can This Marriage Be Saved?” on my to be read pile. After she read from new work, there was discussion and food. Carol – and I’m sorry I don’t recall her last name – led us to a gallery in the AKG open to the public. Before and After Again, the current exhibit of artwork, prose, and poetry by the Buffalo-based Julia Bottoms, Tiffany Gaines, and Jillian Hanesworth is incredible. The depth of the portraits and the food images, as well as the prose and hope in the seeds – a truly moving tribute to those lost, but also to those who still live in the area of the Tops shooting and the tentacles of how food deserts compound misery.
I don’t know if any of that is right, art is subjective after all, and I really liked this lamp made by Henry.
That was another experience I was graced to experience. I’d gotten an acceptance at Litmora, which led to my trying to work that in at the launch, and there was an invitation by the editor to attend the Fredonia Literary Festival, and so I did. Completely interesting and fun, plus it turned out that both Henry and Tabi are from Springville. How cool is that? It’s even cooler because Tabi (moderator in the first pic) also has ties to the town where my grandmother lived.
I’m grateful to be here. Western NY is such a lovely spot filled with great souls and flash writers like Rina Fosati. When I went to visit her, I came across a free lawnmower that Husband is falling in love with more with each pull of the cord. I am blessed beyond measure and if you’re reading this, you are the part of the wonder in this universe. Thank you for being that.
Thank you for stopping by and for the read ❤ Enjoy your May!
Greetings, you wonderful human! How are you? How have you been? To say I’ve been living a busy writing life is to gloss over details, and in order to post before midnight, I must.
To start, look at this gorgeous bit of mail. I mean, seriously, even if I didn’t have work inside here, I’d want to own this issue. It is stunning. Thank you to Kim Chinquee and everyone who works on Elm Leaves Journal for including me – which is an understatement since I’m part of the launch/eclipse festivities:
Can you believe that????
And, as if Kim wasn’t awesome enough, the poor thing relapsed with Covid and she offered me her VIP ticket to John Irving at Babel. I mean…
Thank you to Barbara Cole for facilitating the transfer and to everyone at Just Buffalo for all the amazing things they do. What an awesome experience after the pleasure of meeting Karen Schubert at Drop Hammer.
Not too far away. Thank goodness I stayed an extra day to write, think and relax and enjoy my view.
I’m busy with a rewrite and honing my first page and pitch. Seriously, it’s been fun, and a lot and I am so glad you stopped by. Sorry it’s a short but thank you for reading!
Hi. According to my camera roll, for the past two weeks, I’ve only existed in the past. On Valentine’s Day, I took pictures of the three roses Husband brought home for me – without prompting or any sort of reminder – but didn’t post them. Before that? No pictures since the last blog post.
If I have been there, in the past, I’ve resurfaced in more ways than one. Floating on my back today, the wind and rain mimicked an ocean. I looked down at my feet and saw the swirly black sands of a place in the Adirondacks where I dared to go swimming – or at least I walked in up to my knees. W, Husband’s twin, in a blue cap, sat back near the trees. Husband stood between us on the dry rippled sand. I was back with Vonnie on a past perfect pre–Y2K February day at the Atlantic. Seashells near the pier were mostly shards. Walking alone for a stretch, I felt the surging power on my legs, the grip. I imagined other beaches, mostly tan, but some pink, some white, and then I think I worked on my chakras.
Anyway, I started a course of acupuncture when I could no longer carry the weight I had on my shoulders.
The first session, I was anxious and apprehensive, but so willing to try anything for relief that I was willing to pay in cash for it until the new insurance sent out a “wellness card.” [Why yes, I DID meditation and Pilates and Yoga and STOP. My body, my choices and it worked.]
Of course it could be a placebo effect, true, but I had listened to a segment of People’s Pharmacy on NPR where a – white, I assume – man had discovered this network of membranes connecting the organs and tissues that no one had ever noticed before (eye roll emoji) and had written a paper and was ready to go to a conference when he finally talked to somebody else and – surprise- the wise man said, “Yeah, that’s the chi. Been telling you nit wit westerners for how long? But sure, you discovered it.”
And then I heard that – what I assume was a white – man admit how damned dumb he – and countless others were by wasting research grant money all because they wouldn’t listen – or hear – or try to understand what acupuncture was all about. Boom. There. Click, click. The tension in my back was from a chi blockage. I knew it. My fear of needles fell away and I made an appointment.
Today was the fourth session, and the first on my back. (I asked for people with a larger bra size than mine about spending 50 minutes uncomfortably, and Dr. Cara assured me she has a pillowy solution, so don’t let that detour you.) The shoulder pain had nearly disappeared after the second session. I’m continuing to address other issues and I’m keeping notes on the experiences, but I do want to mention that a few hours after the first time, I felt an actual shift. It was brief and intense, but so real. As if to bolster the truth of the feeling, the universe rearranged people’s schedules so now I’m not going alone to the Writers Conference of Northern Appalachia. The Bitchy Cheerleaders – novel critique group of yore – are all going to be there – knock on wood and pray for good weather. So, that’s what is going on with me. I hope you’re doing this well, too. Thank you for stopping by and for the read. (Oh – and I hope to share things to read with you soon. I’m writing. I’m editing. I’m submitting. I’m all sorts of shiny happy for my beta rock goddess, Rina Fosati. I feel wonderful and really hope you do, too.) Cheers and good tidings!
Proper preparation prevents poor performance. Those are the 5 P’s I remember from Due South. What I can’t seem to get through my head is that just because I can wait until the last minute to edit a story for a contest (which turned into a nearly complete rewrite) and scribble a blog, it’s better to leave myself some time in case things come up – and boy do they ever. My spirits and/or feelings are as high up as I can recall my January well-being ever being – including when I was a kid.
Part of it stems from a workshop I took recently. After attempting – yet failing— Nancy Stohlman’s Flash-A-Day challenge in November, she still graciously offered a discount on her class. I signed up for it and while some of the things I heard before, this time they clicked, and the one thing social media has taught us, clicks are good.
One major change is the quarters. I never thought to waver from the standard Jan-March, April-June, etc. separations but once I heard I could start in February – a whole lot made sense. I now have a notebook divided by goals by those quarters, by five years, by ten. It’s strange to thing how it has effected me – I feel alive.
Maybe it’s all about the control I feel in seeing where and when my time and energy gets divided. I’m currently setting up all the vet and doctor appointments so they are part of the plan. I’ve signed up for a conference and a seminar. Tomorrow begins the real test, but I feel both prepared and inspired.
Writing is a lot of work with no guarantee of a spit’s worth of minor acclaim or appreciation. Politics, baking, there are no sure bets on anything, but I now have a plan – and potential alternatives, and possibilities to pursue if those don’t pan out either.
I know – that’s a lot of optimism showing. Sorry. I can’t help it. I’ve gotten a lot of work done lately and it’s exciting. It probably sounds silly, but adding color has been extremely helpful; I am incentivized by pretty things and ease. Look at my new board. I’ll be pinning reminders for magazine openings to their proper months as reminders instead of using a desk calendar, you see.
Aren’t the lined up folders exciting? I’m telling you I know it might not last – but that’s the beauty of the new approach – every three months I’ll be checking in with the goals and adjusting as needed. Already it’s easing my stress. I wanted to finish the movie list. I knew it wouldn’t be finished by the end of this quarter, so I not only moved it, I gave myself 6 months to finish it because while I want it done, I also have other goals that matter more.
Like you. You matter more than a list.
In the flurry of all this rush to complete a bunch of tasks, I also took a class with Cheryl Pappas. Oh, it was good. Intense. I have three new ugly babies now. I’ll see them in a week. See that’s another goal I’m working on – patience. I don’t have a lot of hope for achieving that one, but it’s on the list, so I’ll give it a go.
Husband designed a better version of my favorite cutting board. Isn’t the new one pretty?
Well, I thank you for stopping by and for the read. I hope your January was at least half as good as mine if not three times better. Until next time, cheers!
31 December 2023 ~ 7:00p.m. as I type. It’s strange to be sitting here with a ton of gratitude and good cheer while heavy with inertia. Maybe it was all the decorating/package sending/cookie making/letter writing/card addressing, stamping, and mailing after accomplishing 50,000 words written in NaNoWriMo and nearly managing a flash a day on top of that just the month before. I apologize there’s not as much effort as I’d like to put in here present, but as someone wrote, “If a job is worth doing, it’s worth doing crappily.” I can’t remember where I heard that line – and I’m sure it was said with more elegance and grace – but it’s been an idea I’ve paired with St. Francis of Assisi’s “Start by doing what is necessary, then what is possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible,” only to find it led to doing impossibly stupid things, so that is tiring me out, too.
(Off topic: Every time I write a breathless paragraph, I think of Kathy Fish. Maybe that’s how angels get their wings now.)(And really, it wasn’t that off topic. It’s A Wonderful Life has been playing in a loop all month.)(Talk about loopy, my thoughts go in circles sometimes. Do yours?)(Where was I? Oh. Right.)
With overnight company over the holiday, I had the chance to pull furniture out of the library, clean, and rearrange it. I hit upon a new configuration. That lasted a day or two before the shortcomings of orientating the mat one way and the chair in another reemerged. I switched it all back the way I had it this afternoon and noticed I should touch up the paint on the walls.
Pedestrian and predictable, isn’t it? Ruts…yet I dare say I feel a hint of hope about the upcoming new year. Maybe it’s the scent of a business idea or a political run. I don’t know what will happen next and neither do you, so in the meantime let me once again say thank you to the amazing readers and editors at these places who were wonderful enough to enjoy my work enough to share it:
I’m grateful to a long list of IRL people who made the year amazing, and I hope you’ll forgive my not naming your name and linking your page but I want to finish a book (reading) before midnight if I can, and chances are, you know who you are, including the awesome ones behind this:
I know, I probably owe you a letter/critique response/present that didn’t get packed, but it’ll have to wait. The gorilla on the bookcase is ready for a rockin’ eve and I’m off to finish reading a paltry tenth book for 2023. See you in the new year if we’re all lucky that way. Thank you for your love, your support, your kind words and likes if you gave them. Thank you for existing. Thank you stopping by and for the read.
T. L. Sherwood 
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