Lissa Marie Redmond

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!

On the eve of New Year’s Eve

By God’s (or some equally helpful entity in the universe’s) grace, (or one of my best friends in the world sending protective energy,) I traveled over the holiday and I’m back in one piece. It was the first place anywhere I’ve gone to (and stayed overnight) in many years. Not that I’m a big traveler. I thought I could be once, but instead I travel through the world by reading books.

While at Niece and Nephew-in-law’s beautiful and spacious new home, I finished “The Secret Lives of Church Ladies” by Deesha Philyaw. Fantastic collection. I really loved it. I read  “Killing Krause” by Lissa Marie Redmond and I wasn’t enthralled with it. I have no memory of where that book came from either. I picked up Gail Tsukiyama’s “The Language of Threads” and enjoyed its quiet beauty but put it down, not being something I could read and follow a conversation with at the same time. From my book bag, I plucked “The Weird Sisters” by Eleanor Brown and all I could think was, “Where have you been all my life?” I’m afraid to finish it. What if the end disappoints? What a pretty problem to have!

While away, I didn’t have time to worry or think about the normal things I fret over. I won’t say they left me, but I missed having them. If that makes any sense.

Before leaving I pulled up some old writing in a couple of old journals and in those pages I was able to laugh at the cyclical nature of some things, some people in my life and how we can age but not change. I’m TRYING to accept that about other’s too, but alas…It was quite difficult to think that way the last night in Massachusetts, but then again, aren’t all family gatherings fraught with some level of drama?

Some – what an adjective! Particular but unspecified. I may be writing about you. I may be writing about the anonymous family blow out at the service station along the way. About something Husband said. About this story idea that may have occurred to me while sitting around a familiar table with familiar people…

My reflections and your experience will vary and it is strange that anything is possible. I didn’t think things that happened this year would occur, but they did. Not all good, not all bad, but some were downright unexpected and lovely.

Goodness, it was some year, wasn’t it? I bid you adieu until the new one.

(Photo credit to Awesome Niece)

Cheers!