The Paris Review

Pulling the plug, a December tradition

Once again, the Christmas chaos calms down and a piece of my heart dies with it…but first, let’s explore the highlights of the past few weeks…

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I know, this may not be a great thing for you, but look at the back:

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Ink! From the Paris Review! I also got a nod of encouragement that I could take my writing to a whole new level and get published in the Reader’s Digest if I wrote differently, so I’ve got that going for me…

The Playwright’s Potluck dinner party at Donna Hoke’s house was amazing. I met Gary Earl Ross’s wife, Tammy, as well as other writers, directors, and actors. I reconnected with some people from previous parties or workshops and had a great time. Husband and I caught up with Stepson and DIL over dinner at J. P. Fitzgerald’s and exchanged presents before they left to return to Texas. Within two days of their departure, my son flew up from a different part of Texas to Indiana. We agreed to meet about mid-way on a Wednesday. The timing worked and in Cleveland, we had lunch with a great friend named Michael who turned us on to an amazing market. We wandered around in there while waiting for my son and his family to arrive. Husband and I had appetizers with my son, DIL, and both grandkids at Great Lakes Brewery.

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While exercising off our meals, we stumbled across a glass operation with a resident chicken.

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We got a tree – which isn’t that unusual, but we went with a living pine tree for decorating. We – and by we, I mean Husband – put up multiple strands of light.

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All month, I’ve been receiving cards and notes from all over and I love each one. Thank you to all who sent us holiday wishes!

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Nephew from Portland, Niece from Boston, and her husband arrived to spend the holidays with us.

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During their visit, we went to the Eternal Flame. A logjam prevented me from going to the end because I’d brought the dog with us. He later thought he’d scored a rug, but it was a beautiful, 8 years in the making, gift from Niece to her brother.

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We drove to Leicester to see my sister and another niece. I was able to make it to a writing session/gift exchange with Gina and Mary. I doled out bags of candy to the workers at The Comfort Zone and my other writers’ group. I stopped by and visited with Nina Fosati. So basically, I’ve seen pretty much all the people and I’m grateful for those interactions because today is a rough one. Like I said, I’m losing a part of my heart today…

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She’s been in decline, but now – 4:30pm, actually – we’ll be driving her down the road for an appointment where we say our goodbyes.  I know, not the greatest way to end the year, but what are you going to do – other than wish you a Happy New Year. I’m ecstatic to be leaving this one behind.

Thank you for stopping by and for the read.

Celebrating a Higher Tier Rejection from the Paris Review

Happy July 4th (even if that’s not a holiday for you.)

I’ve got to say you look incredible. Have you lost weight? Is that a new haircut? Whatever you did, you’re looking fine. As fine as I’ve been feeling recently…

The Paris Review sends out nominal slips of paper with rejection. I’ve gathered a few. I just got a different one. This one said they liked my work and would like to see more. Fantastic, right? Except now I’m wondering what to send.

I absolutely love and adore the problems I have.

If you’re following along, I am four days into Camp NaNo. The story I’m seeking advice on as a possibility to send to TPR was written in the first two days. Last month I subscribed to The Southeast Review’s prompts–a great (and cheap) amount of inspiration if you are thinking about doing it. End shot: I didn’t do every day’s prompt but I did do most. I wrote what I consider two solid stories. I sent them in as contender‘s for their best story written from the prompts. Rough contest–you had to have them sent in by the end of July 1st. The last prompt was interesting, but what I wrote for it, I couldn’t have revised in time to send–just saying it’s intense, but worth it if you look into it.

Anyway, I don’t expect to win, let alone be a finalist, but I feel really good for having written those stories. Like I said, I’m a few days into Camp NaNo and it is also intense, but this time I’m in a “cabin” and my fellow campers are an inspiration and I love the friendly competition.

There are slugs and weeds in my garden. I’ll be out there soon, combating those beasts, and it’s all good. I’m registered to go to a playwriting workshop. New form. New challenges. New hope.

I think I’m ready.

I do love writing. I probably have a crush on you if you must know. As if you’re reading this, I’m all shimmery from your attention, dear reader.

Thank you.

(These are just my overly  happy to be writing creekside reflections. Your experiences may vary.)