cancer

September hath not as much time as I wish…

Question: If one writes a 10-minute play, and then precedes to want to change every line, does it make one a playwright?

What if one wants to change the sex of one of the characters to deepen it? At what point should one be comfortable enough to share it? For me, the willingness was there pretty early, like finished the night before an early morning writing club meeting and I was going to have it read there. I was hoping to be able to listen to it, not read a “part” and it could have worked, but, eh, I had another short piece and I also preferred to listen to another writer’s longer story, so it remains an unread play.

I know…I thought I was done writing, too.

It’s been an ongoing small task sort of month. Plants are being repotted, furniture is being moved to accommodate the fire in the woodstove, books are migrating between shelves. The Colden Festival was well-attended and it appeared as though most of the vendors had successful days. The temperature was pleasant and no rain fell – which for that Festival is a rarity.

I’m sitting in a place of disbelief for something that is believable, but the rapidity stuns. Yesterday I found out someone went to see a doctor on the first of this month. By the 8th, there was a cancer diagnosis. Last night, (after a three-meeting day with follow-up work to do after getting home) they were in hospice and had not wanted anyone to know they were sick. Today, they are gone. I had to hold it by myself for a sleepless night and whack-a-mole day until Husband came home and then I broke the news to him about his sister-in-law after he’d had a chance to sit down. Our niece had to hold in the whole thing for a month.

And of course, such things make you think and in some of my racing thoughts in the suddenly uncomfortable bed last night, I thought about how I was expecting to see her again and now I wont and how she didn’t get to retire. She was one of the most tireless workers I ever met and now she’s gone still.

Anyway, this is the short piece I read at Writing Club which seems fitting to add here, so I’ll share it below. Thank you for stopping by and for the read. I appreciate you!

  Relishing In My Nature and Yours

Why yes, I will use words in weird orders to halt you into reading that again to see if I made a mistake, but generally, you’ll find you’d been reading comfortably along when an original-ish thought jumped up like a robber baron to siphon away your life’s blood in exchange for some pieces of paper  and a “good chap” clap on the back and maybe you’ll own a house and a yard and maybe you’ll be driving a 1948 Alvis Duncan like a class A Anglophile, but will you have seen enough trees or tasted enough flowers or petted enough prickly lizards or licked enough dragonfly heads or enjoyed something like sex so much that you thought you’d explode in joy and if not, why on earth are we here for, but that?

Sentences like that are enough to try any reader. 

The Holidays. *Sigh*

Since last I wrote, things started out quite lovely. I got an acceptance from Matter Press for my piece, “I’m Calling Him Skippy,” about a woman who rescues a dog from bad owners. At about the same time, Husband called from Adoring Pets with sad news. While I assumed that the dog would cost us a million dollars, I didn’t think she’d die. What the one vet thought was a minor issue, was in fact cancer. It’s not in her lungs yet, but even with surgery (keeping her cast dry in this weather? Really?) and drug treatment there’s only a 48% chance she’d be alive in a year.

If you met Tye, you know how sweet she is and we can’t do that to her. On Monday, she’ll be going into work with Husband. Mondays suck anyway, and before Christmas is somehow better then afterwards…

Nancy, my friend from the Playwright Workshop, and I had plans to go see Gary Earl Ross read that night. Mr. Ross selected my piece, “Wildflower Wishes,” to include in the Queen City Flash anthology, and I hoped to pick up my copy that night, but with that news, and the snow, we didn’t go.

The snow…it’s been unbelievable. I didn’t go shopping last week, nor did I go to the library because the driveway was filled with snow. I’d shovel and later it wouldn’t look like I’d been outside. Husband got the driveway under control on Saturday, and then Sunday, we drove to Grandma’s house. I had no idea how hard the dog’s illness was going to be. Grandma doesn’t hear very well. I couldn’t tell her this was Tye’s last visit. It broke my heart to see Tye look up at her and hear my Grandma say, “It’ll be all right,” because no, it isn’t. 

12.13B

I had a short story accepted at Page and Spine. The bonus for that is I’d just had it rejected by Carve. If you have a piece rejected by Carve and it’s published elsewhere, they link it from their site. Maybe it will get them to look closer at the piece I have under consideration there now.

I was working on my novel yesterday waiting for Husband to get home when I heard something in the driveway. He was stuck. Our most awesome neighbor came with his tractor, cleared the driveway and got Husband’s truck out of the mushy part of the lawn. Thank you Bill!!! The thing was, I looked out the window, saw him stuck and thought, “Are you kidding me? Another crappy thing to deal with?” I have forgotten to mention that I got a call from my credit card company. My card had been stolen. So yeah, that was even more fun added to the mix. Today, on the news I found out it was most likely from the Target theft. Fun.

The holiday letter and cards are being sent out today, one of the latest send offs, but I just finished them last night after Husband’s company Christmas Party at J. P. Fitzgerald’s. It was a nice party. I sat by Trish and she and I talked about her work, her trips to Haiti, and her daughter’s writing. Paul and Kim were at our table, as was Tessa, and the old assless chaps joke came up once again. How can a party be bad when the conversation includes discussions of juice boxes and assless chaps?

So, I have more cookies to make and I need to finish up my twenty pages to send to my awesome novel critique group today. I hate being this late with things, but then again, I had no idea we’d have this much snow, which led to fewer shopping days. No, what it is is that I had no idea how much I love this dog and it pisses me off that she isn’t going to be around anymore. Screw it. I have cookies to make. I hope your holiday–if you celebrate one–is fantastic and blessed and bright. Here’s looking to a better New Year.

 

(These are just my creekside reflections. Your experiences may vary.)