WRITERS ANNONYMOUS

I haven't had anything funny, inspirational, or helpful to say this week. Instead of making up some dribble that no one wants to read (including me) I'm going to share this poem that made me giggle...

Writers Anonymous: A 3 Step Program

[Step One: Resentment]
Hi, My name is Quentin.
I'm a write-a-holic.
I can't control it, can't curb
the urge to write.
I need help.
I want my life back.

[Step Two: Commitment]
I write poems on fast food napkins,
with toothpicks, using ketchup for ink.
I jot ideas for poems
on my arms and legs. When I run out of space,
I use my shoes.
I make motions
similar to Michael Jackson's moonwalk
when I need to erase.

I make up stories
while making love to my wife.
She left me. Who needs her?
She was suffocating my creativity.

I await submission replies
like an addict, hands trembling,
head shaking in disbelief.
Not another bout with rejection!
I'm manic depressive.
I'm happy to be here.
No I'm not.

I live for revision.
Instead of sex, I have poems.
I eat feedback.

[Step 3: Contentment]
As a recovering write-a-holic,
admitting my problem
has provided a much needed catharsis.
Joining this nurturing group has

(Excuse me,
but are you going to throw away that paper cup?
That's good paper!)

taught me to reconcile my past
and move forward.

~Quentin Huff

Moonwalking to erase. That's brilliant in my opinion. ;)

My Own Kind

I ordered myself a New Year's present with a gift card that the fabulous Natalie Bahm sent me. (Thanks, Nat!) The book is called A Writer's Book of Days. Per the description on the cover, it's "a spirited companion and lively muse for the writing life." You can check it out via the link if you'd like to learn more. So far I'm really loving it.

Now, for the part I wanted to blog about...

As I read the opening pages, Judy Reeves said something that really hit home for me.

I have been invited to participate in a community where I am free to be all that I am as a writer--insecure, self-conscious, ungraceful, passionate, raw, reckless, wild, and even outside my self. I have found my own kind.

Those words made me think of all of you. My writing world people. Some of whom I've never spoken to in real life, much less met face to face, but nonetheless...are my own kind.

I don't get to read your blogs as often as I'd like, but when I do it's like hot chocolate for my soul. When I read the comments left on my posts it's like I've been handed warm chocolate chip cookies that make me feel all cozy and happy.

I love your stories, your thoughts, your metaphors, your jokes, your photos, your announcements, and everything else you're brave enough to blog about. I think we've all had our moments of Am-I-any-good-at-this-writing-stuff? or even worse, What-if-no-one-cares-what-I-have-to-say?

Try to put those insecure thoughts in a shredder and toss them away.

We are writers.
What we write may not always be poetic, or brilliant, or funny, or publishable, or even memorable.
Who cares.
Write anyway.

Be ungraceful. Be reckless. And yes, even when it's difficult, be passionate.

Every word you write is one step closer to improving your craft. It's one step closer to learning about yourself. It's one step forward on this crazy writerly path that we are all strolling (and sometimes stumbling and tripping) along.

The best part is you are not alone. I am not alone. None of us are alone. They say writing is a lonely job, but I disagree. Look around. Look at all the wonderful people. Between my CPs, blogger buddies, friends I've met at conferences, or even just the occasional commenters who say things that make me smile: I am part of an astounding network of talented and supportive people.

I have found my own kind.
Thank you for being one of them.

Just Another New Year Post

A new year.

A blank page.

A beginning to a new chapter.

I want to fill this one with an abundance of good health, happiness, success, and love.

I have vowed to write more, read more, and create more because that will bring all of the above into my life.

I will try to forgive my boyfriend’s bad moods and thank him for forgiving mine. With a heavy heart, I will hold his hand as he copes with losing his mother less than 2 weeks before Christmas, and I will silently (and somewhat guiltily) pray that I have a long time left with mine.

I will tell my friends and family how much they mean to me, and how grateful I am to have them in my life. But not just on Facebook, Twitter, or via email, because they deserve more than that and it saddens me that real communication is becoming a lost art.

I will try to remember what’s important.

I will try to keep things in perspective.

To hell with making resolutions to lose weight, join a gym, or stop eating chocolate or drinking coffee.

I most likely won’t lose weight and I’m okay with that. It saves me from spending money on new smaller sized clothes—my current ones fit just fine. Not to mention gyms are expensive and I’d rather put all that money towards chemotherapy and supplements to help my bulldog, Rooney, win his battle against cancer.

I won’t give up chocolate or coffee. They bring me comfort and taste delicious, and life is just too short to give up what you love.

That will be my theme, motto, and inspiration for 2011…Love.

Love what you do.

Love who you’re with.

Love yourself.

And when in doubt, love.

Happy New Year to each of you. With love, I wish you an abundance of happiness, good health, success and love.

Thank you for being a part of this chapter.

Hopeful

Usually, I wouldn’t post what I’m about to write on my blog. I worry it might bring readers down, be of little interest to anyone because it’s not writing or book related, or just be too personal. But most of you reading this are writers. You probably understand that sometimes writing it down is therapeutic. So here we go…

Four years ago an American Bulldog sat shivering and sick in a kill shelter in Miami. He was red flagged. Scheduled to be put down at the end of the day because he was a large breed, abused (therefore fearful of humans), emaciated (starved), infested with engorged ticks and fleas, and covered in burns and scars. According to the shelter he was “hopeless.”

Hopeless is a matter of opinion. And opinions can be wrong.

I spoke up for him, and his release papers were signed less than 10 minutes before the shelter closed. Another 10 minutes and his story would have had a tragic and lonely end.

4 years later, most of his scars have healed. He’s no longer scared of people. He gets spoiled with the best quality foods, car rides, squeaky toys, yummy bones, and a sister (part lab/border collie) who gives him kisses every day. He’s the best snuggler in the world, and his tail hardly ever stops wagging.

Far from hopeless.

If I had written about him three weeks ago the paragraph above would have also included “healthy.” Unfortunately, I can’t say that now. The day before Thanksgiving, Rooney had a mass removed.

(Here he is after surgery. So cute. )

Six days later, the vet called and informed me it was cancerous. Over the sound of my heart shattering, I listened to his recommendation for chemotherapy: the pros, cons, risks, statistics, best and worst case scenarios. It left me terrified.

For almost a week I debated whether or not to put him through chemo. I was sure I couldn’t let them inject poison into my baby. Then I was sure I had to do everything I could to give him a fighting chance at beating cancer. Then I didn’t know what to do. I was scared, sad, and lost.

Tuesday we returned to the vet’s office to have his stitches taken out. Rooney was on the table, being forced to lay on his side by the vet and tech. He was confused, shaking, and thrashing around in fear. Then I held his head, pressed my nose against his, locked eyes with him, and promised it would be okay. (The same way I did the first day we met.) He instantly relaxed and held completely still while the doctor went to work.

It was two minutes at the most, but for two minutes we never took our eyes off each other. We were communicating volumes without saying a word. He trusts me. I’m the first person he’s ever trusted, and with that trust he counts on me to decide what’s best for him.

I can only hope that I make the right decisions.

Friday he had his first chemo session. He did great. We’ve been curled up on the couch together all weekend trying to recover; him from the physical damage, me from the stress and worry. Many times we locked eyes again and he’d wag his tail, rest his head on me, or give me kisses.

(Relaxing with his new toy.)

I know I made the right decision to rescue him. I don’t know if I’m making the right decision to do chemo. We’re taking each day as it comes. In the meantime, I’m giving thanks for each day I have with him, and I’m trying to stay positive. Because together, Rooney and I have learned…

where there is love, there is hope.

Going For A New Look

In case you didn't notice, my blog got a facelift. Pretty snazzy, huh?
See the new tabs up top separating my shenanigans into easy to read pages? I felt like the old layout was too busy and crowded, so voila! Welcome to my new look. Have a look around while I pour us some cocktails. I still have some things to move around and add, but I had to show it off because I love it so much.

Now, I have to give credit where credit is due. The awesome design was created by a good friend of mine, Ron Schirmacher. He's got wicked web designing skills, and he had the patience of a saint as I sent emails asking him to tweak, tuck, tear away, etc. Contact him if you want him to design you your very own. You can see his company site by clicking on his name, or email me and I'll hook you up with his contact info.

And The Winner Is...

Finally, my teddy bear has been returned (a little shaken up, but physically unharmed) so I can announce the winner of my signed copy of Paolo Bacigalupi's SHIP BREAKER. Well, not MY copy. I'm keeping my personalized one for myself and will never ever give it away. But the winner of the OTHER signed copy is...

Matthew Rush!!!One of the only guy's I've ever seen pull off the I-ooze-coolness-even-with-a-cig-hanging-outta-my-mouth look. He even left a really cool comment that would be a great plug for the book and I feel it's worth quoting:

Wow. What an amazing premise. Sounds dystopian, and fantastic and beautifully romantic all at once. Just the idea of a lovely old wooden ship suddenly showing up in this down trodden world of beached steel behemoths drew me in instantly.

So congratulations to Matthew! And also, special thanks to Ms. Honey Hostage--er, I mean, Carol Valdez Miller for plugging my contest and boosting my followers to over 600. And WELCOME to all the new friends who found me through Carol's blog. I'm sorry I didn't have 50 of these books to give away because I'd love to give everyone a copy. BUT, she is giving away SHIP BREAKER and some other great titles, so head over there and enter if you haven't already.

Thanks to everyone who commented and entered. Happy Friday!