Terrible Two's

...I mean, she's actually been a terror before this...but tomorrow, she's officially two years old. Tomorrow won't be too much fanfare because I have to get the apartment in order for her birthday party on Friday. A house full of toddlers doesn't sound all that appealing, but on the upside, she'll be so tired out by the time that it's over that it'll have all seemed worth it.

I'm going to celebrate with a glass of wine tomorrow night when she's sleep with the knowledge that I kept her alive for a whole two years! Here's to many MANY more.

Be Bold

I had the most amazing conversation with my best friend last night on the phone. We were discussing my recent break-up with Eric. I won't get into all of that right now because it's not important--and I won't give him the satisfaction of having his name fall off my lips.

But I was telling her that for the first time in a long time I felt free and happy. No limitations, no restrictions...I can just be myself. And so she asked me what I was going to do now and I said, 'Be Bold'.

Next summer I'm going to be thirty years old. I've spent too much of my life hiding who I am so it wouldn't offend people. I even stopped writing a few months back because he said fiction was 'stupid amd for people with their heads in the clouds' or some nonsense. And while I never believed that, I did believe that maybe I was too old to be chasing dreams I've had since I was a girl.

It seems silly in retrospect, to let someone have that much control over you, but I did. It was an abusive relationship that I allowed to go on way too long and effect my writing.

Next to my daughter, writing has to be one of the most important things in my life. It's never been a hobby for me. Sometimes I wish it was. Obsessions are tedious, time consuming things.

But I don't know what else to call it and I don't know how to feel any less intensely about it and I don't think I really want to.


I spend more time with my notebook and pen then I do networking. It distracts me. It really does. But I love this place. I love talking to new people and keeping up with what's going on in the writer's market. It keeps me grounded--but it's the sort of thing I have to take in doses. Too much information and I'll forget my purpose.

When I finish this book...I don't want it to be just 'good'. I want to blow people out of the water. I want to inspire and challenge and give hope...and...all of those things. I want to write something that you can't put down, and even when you do...it stays with you. You ever read a book SO good that you dream about the characters?

I want to be unforgettable. And it's a lofty aspiration for someone just starting out--but I hope for no less. And until I get there...I'm not going to stop.

So that's all...no more excuses.

and National Novel Writing Month is upon us...finally. So...I decided to just do the damned thing.

It's been a long time...

Well, at least a little over a month since I last posted here.

Life has thrown some major curve balls and I've been doging some and hitting some out of the ball park--or something like that.

Mostly, I've been writing alot. I don't know how it's going to pan out. I'm just doing it because it's what I do. You get to create a world to live in for the time being--and the real world problems are gone for a couple of hours.

Life is...life. I'm trying to get mines back in some semblance of order and once I do, I'll be back full force.

There is a calmness in knowing that my pen still touches paper as often as possible and sometimes for hours on end. That hasn't stopped. That's the most important thing. Before blogging and networking and posting chapters...it's always been just the pen, the paper and the words.

On another note, I've signed up for NaNoWriMo. Whether or not I'll even wait or still participate remains to be seen. I'm a rebel. I always like to do things my own way (which is probably why it only works out for me 48% of the time)

I'm still keeping up on current events in the whole writer market thing. I'm still reading blogs and keeping up to date. Even though I'm not here every day or even every week...I'm here in spirit--or some junk.

Bubble Guts

(I know, the title. Don't ask. You so don't want to know.)

Sleep has been elusive for the past two weeks. I fell asleep on the bus this morning on my way to class and nearly missed my stop. You don't know how badly I want to go home, pull the blankets over my head and go to sleep.

Then I remember, I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm a gal with a little gal and I'm just not going to get the sleep I want.

Oh...so her dad came home from jail Friday. Showed up at my door with his mother, and I made up a lie as to why they couldn't take her. I ended up taking her over there for a few hours last weekend, but I didn't leave her alone. His mother has yet another new boyfriend--with a hairy belly.

I think this weekend drained me. I have finals coming up this week and then the first mod is over and done with. I'm passing with flying colors though I haven't been particularly interested in writing. I'm really taking my friend Crystal's advice and writing when I have to...not because I have a deadline.

I'm in this weird place right now that when I get home and put on Peter Pan for Israel, I sit on the couch and basically zone out. Eventually I'll do the dishes or cook, but I zone for at least an hour. Trust me, I know I could be writing, but for me, it just doesn't happen like that. It's a mix of apathy and lethargy.

Then again, eating a honey bun and barbeque chips for breakfast doesn't really have the greatest effect on energy...or your stomach for that matter.

Back on Track

I guess.

It's always hard to say with me. I haven't been writing as much because of school--or more correctly, because I have to make up some work missed at school.
Life has been...strange in the way it usually tends to be for me. I wish I could condense all the oddities in my life and make it into a story, but I don't think it would even begin to make sense.

But I think that's the problem--I'm trying to make sense of something that has no need for it.

It's beautiful today. It's breezy and cool and the sky looks like rain. I can't help but to look up from this computer from time to time and just look out side. I keep getting distracted by the trees. It's always been that way for me. I remember a few years ago before my daughter, I was at this park in Hamilton, New Jersey with my sister called Veterans' Park. It was July and the day was pleasantly warm. The sun was setting when we got there and it would have been completely dark within an hour or so.

I remember walking the path with my sister and her daughter and some other children we had taken with us, and I walked off the path with my niece Orion and we pretended to get lost in the woods. I remember pausing while she went on, and staring at the green canopies of the trees swaying slowly, rhythmically back and forth. I was in a trance. It almost seemed as if the trees were breathing in and out. It was beautiful. I swear, if it's a windy or breezy night and you stare at the trees, it's like your eyes are playing tricks on you.

In other news: One of the classes I'm taking for this course is Business English or Coder's English and OMG...you cannot believe how much it is improving my writing. It is so important to be able to punctuate correctly and know when to use prepositional phrases, conjunctions, past participles and...god...stuff I haven't thought about since grammar school. It's helped me alot and has definitely given me more confidence in writing. Granted, I haven't really written in a few days, but I've lost that urgency to write because I need to put something on paper for the sake of doing it. I've learned to write when I have the time and know that it's still just as important as it was all those weeks and months ago.

So...we'll chat soon!

Seppy: I hope you're feeling alot better! I miss you!

Daughters

This blog entry has nothing to do with writing at all, but I think it's important for all mothers, caregivers of children, aunts, grandmothers etc, to read.

Last weekend, I allowed my daughter to see her paternal grandmother after nearly a month of keeping her away. For a while, her paternal grandmother was baby sitting her while I was interning. For many reasons, I chose not to have my child associate with her father or his family. Maybe I should be nice and politically correct, but I'm not going to and I'm sure some of you know that about me by now.

His family...is disgusting. I think they're horrible people. They've been horrible to me and my daughter. But because I felt the need to include them in her life and because I often allowed myself to be bullied by them, I would let them see her. There were times when they would turn up at my apartment unannounced demanding to see my daughter. Thankfully, my boyfriend successfully nipped that in the bud.

But that's not what this post is about.

This past weekend, I allowed my daughter to stay the night with her paternal grandmother. Since I never gave her my cell number, she'd been calling MY mother non stop asking me why I haven't brough Israel over to see her. Not only that, but I had people from her family stopping me on the street asking me about it. Giving in, I allowed her to go over there.

When I picked her up on Sunday, I found out some news that solidified my resolve that she will never go over there for as long as I am alive.

When I arrived at her house, my daughter was on the shoulders of her ex-boyfriend Tommy (whom I don't have a problem with. I've known him forever and he's known israel since she was a new born). I walked into the house and I asked 'Where's Darrell' which was her current boyfriend that was living with her. Part of the reason why I stopped bringing my daughter there was because Darrell was a drug addict, and a pervert and he hit on me a few times. I never trusted him.

My daughter's grandmother informed me that she had left a little girl alone with Darrell, a girl she was responsible for, that she was getting paid to take care of while her mother was at work. Tammy had to go to the doctor's and she left this 7 year old girl alone with him, and he molested her.

I know the little girl VERY well. Often times her mother and stepdad would bring the little girl and her brother to my apartment when they went out and they'd end up spending the night with my daughter. The girl has spent the night with me numerous times when my niece comes over because they are good friends and the same age.

My anger isn't simply from what this creature of a man did to a child, but it was also directed towards Tammy.

Reciting these words even now make me seethe with anger I haven't felt in a long time. When I asked her about it, she said, and I quote:

"Well, at first I didn't believe her. You know *name witheld* is a little hot ass anyways."

This...is the mother of five children. The grandmother of three. I shouldn't be surprised as one of her sons was recently in prison for similar charges and her other son, my daughter's sorry excuse for a father is currently in jail for domestic violence. Her other children are completely inept and incapable of doing anything for themselves but blaming the world for their problems.

The little girl in question is an uncommonly beautiful little girl, even moreso because she has such a sweet personality. She's very intelligent, and happy and just a good girl. She's very affectionate, loves hugging and just being herself. Just last night she called me from my kitchen window and waved--like nothing happened. And my heart just hurt for her.

I feel lax as a parent because I allowed my daughter to be taken care of by her when I was working for the State of New Jersey. Granted, this man wasn't around then, but I am sure she had countless other degenerates around my child. Because my daughter can't really talk yet, I am praying to God nothing happened to her when I was gone

I'm sure I don't have to tell any of you this, but I'm saying it because we all need to be reminded sometimes. Just...ask your kids questions, be aware.

I am so grateful this little girl spoke up because if she hadn't, who knows how much further it could have went. She told her parents, not Tammy, because she was afraid and the man was still there.

He's currently in jail with a 50,000.00 bail and I don't see him getting out any time soon.


Be good folks.

!@#$!

Man.


I don't even know where to start with this one. I really don't. I waited too long. Maybe I knew this was coming. I couldn't flesh out 'Charlie' the way I wanted, no matter how hard I tried and I've hit a brick wall.

Shit...I don't like her. I just don't fecking like her. At all. She's flat. Uninteresting...I don't like her. I can't feel her.

And she's the center of the story. I don't know how many thousands of words I wrote. But I stopped.

I flat out...stopped. I cannot--I will not waste any more time with this story. I never came up with a title that I liked. I've been writing this story for almost six months (which is way too long) and I'm not in love with it anymore.

I'm not even sad. I actually pissed off. Really, fundamentally pissed off. I'm not saying that I'll never pick this up again. But I'm putting it in the drawer until it wants to cooperate. I'm sick of looking at it. I'm sick of thinking about it. The idea is solid. It's sound, but for some reason it's not just coming together. When I send out the manuscript, I want whoever I send it to, to be floored by it.

But I'm not floored with it. I'm BORED with it.


Now Jane...I like Jane. I love Jane. Jane is fecking fantabulous. Man, I just started writing about this mousey little screw-up of a woman who cannot use a public bathroom when there's other people in there (she'll actually stop in mid-piss when she hears someone comes in), who owns this horrifically ugly pink t-shirt with dancing kittens across the front of it and sits on her computer at home playing nerdy video games.

I fecking (like my new word?) LOVE her. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do with her...but it's going to be something.

I don't care about genres or queries or agents or agent blogs or anything. I worried about that shit way too much with this last project and it totally killed me.

Chronicles of Jane. Not changing it. Not fixing it. Not thinking about it. It's there.


I suck. I really REALLY do.