Sorry

Sorry for the huge space between blog posts. My internet has gone on the fritz and it only works when it wants to. I don't have too much to tell today. The writing has been coming along beautifully. I'm FINALLY into the double digits. Strangely enough I'm not writing EVERYDAY but when I do, I'm usually writing over a couple thousand.

I have too much going on to write EVERYDAY. But, it's consistent when it happens.

So I guess that's it. Not the most informative post right now, but I just wanted to let you all know that I didn't disappear off the face of the planet. I do come back down to earth from time to time.

If You Gave A Whale A Waffle

Doesn't that title sound like something that's already in bookstores?
So I went to my 8 year old niece's Art and Literature night at her school in Pennsylvania and I just got back.

My niece's book title was "If You Gave A Whale a Waffle" and it was extraordinarily good. Like...not even for an 8 year old either. The teacher went all out with actually getting these blank hard cover books and the kids wrote the story and did all the illustrations.

She didn't finish the pictures, but the story was just...amazing. I was really impressed, and not just in that indulgent way adults tend to be with their kids.

She couldn't take it home yet, but when she does, I am going to take pictures of it and her art work. It was just...good.

So you know my mother, my sister and I were all trying to take credit for her mad skillz!

Confidence

It's not something I ever really had. Maybe occasionally when I was particularly sure of something. And even then, there was that niggling little doubt.

I couldn't at all imagine why something amazing or spectacular could happen to me when there were so many other better people it could happen to.

Thinking like that doesn't really get you far if anywhere. And even upon saying this, I'm sure that some part of me will always have that twinge in the back of my head.

I think the reason why I've had so much trouble with my writing isn't because it isn't good. I know it is. That's not being particularly vain or even confident. I know that because it's probably one of the few things I can do marginally well. It's more along the lines of feeling that somehow no matter how good you are, you somehow aren't as adequate as others.

Then you begin to read your work back to yourself with the eyes of someone who suddenly doesn't feel as confident and you end up second guessing yourself and quitting.

And somehow amidst that, you are foolishly able to convince yourself that you probably aren't that good anyhow. You pick up the pen or turn on your laptop and you keep writing, having no confidence in what you're writing and then you just...stop.

Well, not you so much as Me.

Then I realize that after stepping away for a day and a half and looking at it with new eyes--and a bit more objectively makes all the difference.

Then I can at least say "I'm no Hemingway, but it's actually pretty good."

Don't know how many times this will happen before I'm finished...but as long as their is a finish instead of an eternal pause...then maybe that's not so bad.

Colin Hay - I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You

Losing words

Lost thousands.
Thousands.
Almost said SCREW THIS.

Actually I said it. And then I started over.

Is just...really pissed off today. REALLY.

How long does this crap last? When do you finally just get THROUGH it? Is there a finish line?

Or is that just fiction?

Back to the drawing board..and farting.

I have literally been avoidng my computer for days. "Aha, I knew it!" one might say. But the truth is, I've been writing long hand for so long that I reverted back to it. I'm not going to finish the whole book long hand, but I did end up starting over which was FOR my better judgement as opposed to against it. The fiance said something--profound last night and I was like "Oh my god...that's IT!" and he had a dumb, pleased look on his face which was incredibly cute.

So it's very late right now. It's about 11pm, my daughter's diaper is soaked because--well...long story and I really need to get her into and changed. I'll post the new word count by Wednesday for those interested.

Other than that, there's absolutely nothing interesting going on in my life. Unless you count pregnancy gas as one. Like..I seriously fart alot. I don't even notice anymore. I think the fiance has long since learned to ignore it.

Random people on the bus...not so much.

Mom, you ask stupid questions.

I asked Israel what she was building with her legos, and being the clever momma that I am I said, 'oh, is that a castle?" and she gives me a look and said "No! It's a pancake Licia!"

Like...I can't figure out if my two year old was being sarcastic or not.

Stand by Me

It's 1:17 am and I'm waiting for the fiance to return with my calzone. I only put Israel to bed an hour ago after coercing her with cold spaghetti and a back rub--two of her favorite things aside from watching Nim's Island and eating peanut butter and jelly.

While rocking her to sleep, I watched Stand by Me on Netflix and remembered why to me, it will always be my most favorite movies. I think it was brilliant in a simple ways that movies really aren't anymore. I think Stephen King's writing is phenomenal, I really do. It's what I aspire to. Books and works that span over decades--things that you will always remember even when you have grandchildren.

Who remembers the part when Gordy and Vern and Chris and Teddy were in the woods and they waded through that creek and when they came out, they had leeches all over them? Or the part when Gordy told the story of Lard Ass who got everyone back at the pie eating contest by making everyone throw up all over one another.

Classic. Perfect. I remember watching this movie when I was a little kid and I've never gotten tired of seeing it.

After everything is said and done, after all the querying and editing and rejections and staying up late staring at your screen--after all the writer's blocks and blogging and writing conventions--why is it that you write? Sometime all those things seem to take the fun out of it.

And then, you remember that you love it. That you get to tell a story the way YOU see it and it's yours. It's all yours. And...it makes you happy.

What I would give to be a 12 year old kid again, exploring the world and being full of ideas and my most pressing thought of the day being:

"If Mickey's a mouse, and Donald's a duck and Pluto's a dog...what the hell is Goofy?"

took off...

Even us reclusive writers have to get out of the house once in a while, so I didn't do any writing yesterday, instead I enjoyed the day at the park with my two year old and my sister and her daughter.

'Enjoyed' meaning...getting eaten by bugs, chasing Israel into the woods and trying to keep her from jumping in the pond with the ducks. Oh and...she also tried to put this stick up some dog's butt yesterday too.

Oh yes...yes she did.

So after some pizza in about 20 minutes...back to work! -cracks whip-
I've also decided to post the word count at the end of the week. My internet is too spazzy to try and do it every day. But so far...so good. Keeping up with my own challenge though I desperately want to go back and start fixing things already.

-twitches-