poems

The Muse is to Blame for the Lateness of this Post

Last night, there was a meeting of the novel critique group at Mary Aker’s house. I am loving this process. The people, the camaraderie, and the feedback are all impeccable. I also love seeing how their storylines and characters develop. Their plot twists and turns are fun to read and discuss. Plus, having people to commiserate with about the process isn’t too shabby, either. I feel so honored and privileged to be included, so yeah, I’m in a good mood. Mostly….

I’d come across a short story collection competition two hours before I left, and while my first attempt is intact, I’ve done revisions on several of the stories, so I reassembled the 24 pieces. I had ¾ of it compiled by the time I left the house. I got home around 10:20, finished adding the other stories and got it submitted well before the midnight deadline. With the steep entry fee, I let circumstance dictate if I entered at all.

Checking Facebook, I found Jeff Rose wanted to talk again, but I wasn’t there. The night before, I was quite animated and juggling several conversations. It was weirdly nice, to find I was wanted/missed on Facebook, even though it was in front of God and everybody.

I tried reading over the notes from Gina and Mary, but I was so whipped! Then, the second I put head to pillow, my story came to life. I heard so many conversations, saw so many scenes. My poor MC! I thought I just put her through hell. That’s NOTHING compared to what she’ll soon be going through. Poor thing. And while it was fantastic, to find out so many details about my story, at that time of night? Thank you muse. While jotting down a few key words, I saw it was 3:05 a.m. Hence the relative lateness of this post. You can thank the muse for that. I already thanked her.

Why yes, I do love the problems I have. Problems such as these:

cro

I want this.

3.6.2014This is what I’ve got.

I’m grateful the snow is melting off the roof of the garden shed, but I still can’t get inside.

Oh, I did want to apologize for last time–using mostly pictures–but it was my first official reading! I wish I’d saved them for this week’s blog entry, but choices and consequences, eh? Right, so Gina said her husband tapped his maples over the weekend and that has got to mean spring. It just DOES at this point because it’s been so freaking cold and snowy for so long. I need me some robins and crocuses, and another acceptance or two wouldn’t hurt my feelings, either. Did I forget to mention this? I had TWO poems accepted for the inaugural issue of Wicked Banshee. I am so freaking thrilled to be included in what looks to be a fantastic venue. Thank you SaraEve!

And thank you for checking in!

(Remember, these are just my Creekside Reflections. Your experiences may vary.)

TGI August!

Happy August to all!

I’m happy to be stepping out of July’s Camp NaNo. I made my goal by the fudge factor of kicking in a story I wrote on the cusp of the June/July turn over–and I feel spent. I know each time I attempt this crazy idea, I do produce and I do grow as a writer, but I’m done with trying to do anything but a novel in 30 days. Short work/essays/poems are much too hard to try to produce on such a demanding schedule. Added to that, my best friend moved away and was settling into her new home, I took a play writing workshop, and had major property upheavals this month. I am in need of a vacation.

But do I get a moment to relax? HA!

The next draft of my play, “File it Under Whatnots” is due next week–and I want to get a copy of it to Bella Poynton before then so I can hone this piece to as close to perfection as possible. I love that is a priority in my life. I never thought I’d attempt to write a play, but I did.

Should you be clueless, western New York weather is a funky mix and during the summer I try to get up early to take advantage of the cool air to get things done…And getting things done has happened all over the property recently.

My garden was weeded…Not the surrounding area, just where the plants are growing in the raised bed.

garden

Husband heard of a guy who scrapped cars, so we needed to clear out the Subaru. The things in the Subaru needed a home and the “temporary scaffolding” that held a bunch of pipes and things needed to be taken down, moved and reinforced. The leaded glass window he’d pulled out of the wall behind the bookcase earlier this year was in the way. Jim Tuttle had told us frogs need a place to do their thing so they’d stick around our garden.

Thus:

The scaffold was cleared, dismantled, reassembled and the trees were trimmed–not that I have pictures to show you of that. The garden shed was measured,

shed2

cut with a grinder

123,

shed3

and had the window installed.

Shed6

Shed7

We’re not there yet, but the liner is bought, the hole is mostly dug, and I’m looking forward to frogs moving in soon.

pond

The scrapper–one of the nicest strangers I’ve ever met came, took the Subaru AND the 4 dead tires we’d pulled from the creek over the years.

car

scrapper

None of the pictures I took turned out well enough to show you that I got my hair cut and colored as a test run for attending Mary Aker’s book launch at the Roycroft coming up soon. You should join me there!  Plus, while they were in bloom, I appreciated these flowers:

ha

fl

bed

All in all, a great few weeks around here.

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