Usually, I take a picture of our Thanksgiving table. Sometimes I send it in a text with a greeting to others. This year, besides a few two-word exchanges, the once sweet stress day filled with relatives I might only see then passed quietly with no photographs. We ended up watching the Macy Parade – brava! A bit later, the dog watched the first twenty minutes of the Westminster Dog Show with interest, then retrieved a ball for us to throw.
The snow arrived, but not a deep one. On Friday, the ceiling painting commenced and now patches are on the wall. They will be buffed out and painted next weekend – fingers crossed. By then, I should have the coppers cleaned and arranged in a pattern to be hung on the kitchen wall. Before there was a triangle shape filled with them, now I’m considering a border instead, but I don’t think that would quite work.
My writing excitement of last month was dampened with both the discovery that instead of new management, the NaNoWriMo site is gone entirely and finding out the story I thought was a book is a short story. A different part of my being that I hadn’t considered an asset before niggled its way into my mind and since then, I am plotting out a different future.
I won’t say I’m done writing, but I watch women writers work so hard on craft, then have to spend so much time on promotion. I don’t want to do that. Sure, I believe in my work, my characters, my plots, but to do the interviews and visit bookclubs? At this point in my life, that isn’t my jam.
A recent newsletter from On The Premises, advised that a writer should be known for something. I read that and not so much disagreed, but wondered how true that can be. I thought about my own work, sharing thoughts with other writers, prizes I’ve won, working at two litmags, and then I wandered over to the question of “What are you most proud of?” hoping to stumble on “what I wanted to be known for” in writing, but the answer that came to mind had nothing to do with literature and now I’m slowly taking steps to do a scary thing that is likely to be ugly at points. I apologize for the vagueness here, but until I have a more concrete base (which is forming nicely) I’m basically only telling people in person because of certain restrictions.
Otherwise, my desire for a tidier house remains and I am continuing to whittle away at clutter. Of course Husband just complained about a drill bit that keeps falling out and my suggestion that he throw away the faulty bit resulted in a confession that there are at least 6 of these fairly useless things adrift, so yeah, I guess clutter morphs instead of disappears, doesn’t it?
Our sycamore turned into a Christmas tree with a star shaped leaf on top and natural ball ornaments hanging from the branches, so technically, we have decorated for the holidays.
I hope your November was a delight and may the month ahead be an easy carefree one for you. Thank you for stopping by and for the read! YOU are very much appreciated!!!
T. L. Sherwood 
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