cookies

Funny things, plans.

Tuesday night, I finished reading Ann Patchett’s “Tom Lake.” Because it was in the library’s waiting pool, I had to read it within a week which was unfortunate as the book is filled with natural breaks. There are places where you want to slow down, close the book, and think about your own past, the meaning of family, heredity, legacy and what’s at stake once you start telling your stories. The narrator insists on starting at the genesis of her role as Emily in the play “Our Town.” She listened without watching the auditioners and discerned what didn’t work. She tried not to sound like the competition, won the role, and betrayed a good friend. The harsh judgement the narrator places upon herself for choices she made as a teen go a long way in sympathizing with the mother as she tells about other life choices she’s made while picking cherries in the orchard with her three daughters. Her daughters poke and prod, plead, and finally forgive themselves for getting their mother – and their father’s life before they were born – all wrong. It’s a lovely story where you’ll laugh, you’ll cry and if you’re like me, wonder why you can’t write like that. (Not that all writers should sound like Patchett – I hope you know what I mean.)

So, later to bed meant later to rise. My to-do list for Wednesday was long enough when I went to bed. I opened my email to find it was the last day to apply for a NYFA grant. (I swear – and it’s true – the closing date used to be in February so it wasn’t on my radar.) The to-do list lost meaning as I rushed to write an artist’s statement, synopsis, and a character list and got it submitted in time.

This month I’ve been shoveling words in a novel for NaNoWriMo and attempted to write a flash a day with Hot Pants prompts. I’m within a few hundred words of closing out the 50,000 towards the latest book and if I scramble, my last 6 flashes might be written in time so yes, cool, for being within the sight of the finishing line BUT for NYFA, I pulled out a section of The Function of Foam to use and ended up immersed in that claustrophobic attic with the bats and Frank. Switching back to Ina and Milac caused a bit of whiplash, but I’m sure it will pass.

In a slightly less rare occurrence, I left the house for literary adventures. It was a genuine pleasure to meet Lissa Marie Redmond. She came to the Comfort Zone as a guest speaker to the newly revamped Hamburg Writers Group – presided over by the talented MaryJean Zajac. There was a write-in for NanNoWriMo at the McKinley Mall Barnes & Noble. It was lovely to see John Bowers, a decent man and a ML to emulate. Thank you for including write-ins in the Southtowns!

I hemmed and hawed about going to Buffalo to see Sarah Freligh in the Drop Hammer Series which Kim Chinquee does an outstanding job of coordinating, advertising, and hosting. Omg, I’m glad I did. It was the best time. Part of the “problem” I’ve been facing with the new novel I’m feeding is the point of view. During Sarah’s reading and talk, that came up an it was so enlightening to be in an environment to discuss the gears of writing with a group of people. After, I was privileged enough to go out for drinks with her and Kim before Kim’s next class.

 Gratitude is something I incorporate into my everyday life, but there is a pull to fuss over a Thanksgiving dinner so I did. I made cranberry sauce.

Now, because I enjoy making my gifts, I’ve started the baking, then cooling, then cutting, and wrapping endless mouthfuls of joy to share. Here’s one of at least 2 pans of dream bars I’ll be making, nearly ready for the oven.

My new temporary life as a baker awaits me the second I’m done with the insane amount of writing I’ve been doing. Thank you to Eric Bosse for the insight into sometimes 3 sitdowns at the keyboard for half an hour produce more than a solid sit for an hour and a half. Thank you to Rina Fosati for coming to Bluesky and commenting on the artists and artwork that strike her fancy to research. I’ve missed it. Hugs!

How are they already done and out of the oven? I hate it when time snaps my attention like that.

Thank you for stopping by and for the read. Please enjoy your day for all its worth!

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.)