beeconcise

… and suggested that we write children’s books together. I keep telling her she should write children’s books, and she knows I keep thinking about it, and she keeps telling me I should write children’s books. What a brilliant idea to
write them together. We even have some ideas for collabration. Sounds like fun to me. I think that we should write under the name of Josie Andrew, because in numerology this comes out to the number 5 for success, and I love that it uses both our names (Allison’s middle name of Jo, and my last name of Andrew).

I keep thinking of writing my fiction under the name of Ann Drue, becaue Andrew is really my last name and I love this play on words, and of course Ann Drue in numerology does come out to the number 5. In fact, my whole birth name comes out to the number 5, also. So then I ask myself, if the numnber 5 really stands for success, why am I not an established writer by now? Do you think maybe my NOT writing a book yet could be the cause of this? Maybe?

I realized, late yesterday afternoon, that one year ago, as I stopped spinning from a stroke 10 days earlier, Dennis came home at 10:00 a.m. and had been laid off from his 15+ year drafting/designer job at what we always believed was a wonderful and caring local engineering company. I knew when he walked in the door with his lunch sack that it wasn’t going to be good news. And it wasn’t.

My friend, Denise, was here, to drive me to my therapy appt. with the Occupational Therapist. What a crappy day. To say we felt betrayed would be such an under statement. But we were cruising, couldn’t believe he’d be unemployed long. Maybe fodder for a novel one day.One year later. He’s working a temp project for a manufacturing company here in Spokane, but – oh, my – the gravy days are gone.

So much of my own life is gone, too. I feel like I’ve wasted it by not writing and getting a career going. I thought I knew everything when I started chasing the dream, but somehow came to a fork in the road, went to work full time and threw the dream away, having no idea that’s what I was doing at the time.

It feels like I’ve buried my heart’s desire in a secret spot in the forest, came back 25 years later and found a bull dozer had plowed it up and planted a business park there, instead. Covered in concrete now. Not an easy dream to unearth. No going back for it. It’s starting from scratch now, if that possibility is even still alive. Something inside me tells me that just maybe a tiny piece of that dream ended up in the new business park, though … a small speck, just enough to make me still wonder if a small part of that energy is still around, waiting. I laugh thinking well, if a part of that landed anywhere, it would have landed in the petite dept. of a Macy’s department store. You never know. Stranger things have happened. This makes me smile.

This morning the top of my coffee cup handle fell off, leaving me thankfully holding securely onto the cup by the bottom of the handle. Such a surprise. At the very moment this happened, I was wondering if it’s time to stop telling myself I’m writing a novel, and that maybe this activity has served its purpose in my life … then kerplunk went part of the handle. It felt as if an angel or a higher power was saying, “Yes, I understand. Like this handle, right? This whole cup has also served a purpose and no longer needs to hold your coffee any more than your novel needs to hold your thoughts – read here indecision, anger, frustration, hopelessness, sadness, some eagerness from time to time … all those things a person in a new town with a new job might experience (like my character, Addy – a new manager of an inherited book store in a new town, or like myself some years ago (new apartment, new job, new life.)

With the New Year I have set up a break-neck pace of activities for myself and am getting tired. I know it’s not a good thing to exhaust myself trying to do everything all at once. I’ve waited so long to sincerely focus on my writing that it now crowds out everything else in my life. Obviously this is what it feels like to have stayed too long at the fair.

Today is definitely a letting go for me. Am I letting go of that ‘new girl in town’ frustration that my character, Addy, is experiencing – meaning I’m allowing Addy to feel more confident, now that I know where this book is heading with her character arc?

Or am I letting go of the journey I’ve been traveling for the pat 25 years? New to the working world, out on my own, not sure how it would all end, and for the last 10 years, putting all of that emotion into a character in a book I thought I was writing. Has this been Addy’s journey? or mine? Either way I know today is definitely a letting go. How opportune for that cup handle to fall off and leave a gaping hole the very instant I was having this thought.

Life sometimes works in surprising ways. Now I have even more to ponder, don’t I?

.. . that the name of this blog is BEECONCISE. My daughter and I thought this was hilarous, a place to put all my words WITH a reminder to BE CONCISE, or MORE concise, if that’s possible for Chatty Cathy here. This morning the thought hit me that if I can’t learn to be more concise (you know – old dogs, etc.), then if I only post something here every 3rd. or 4th day, instead of an average of 600 or 650  wds. per post, I’ll avereage something like 200 or 220 – now that’s something I can aim for.  It’s those little victories that keep us going, I tell myself. Another ‘must learn to do’ this year is to stop hitting one particular key when I write, the exclamation point. More little victories to aim for.
This makes me think I need to get out more. 🙂 Lots of things lined up for myself today – Yoga (such a blessing), grocery store, taking 92 yr. old mom with walker and oxygen to the ear dr. for a checkup, then home to critique 4 or 5 manuscripts for a Thurs. night critique group. Maybe that’s enough for one day? Have already figured out earlier today how to view a text message ‘long after’ it’s first come in, if I first lose it in my phone. Figured it out all by myself. My kids will be so proud of me. Guess it’s good to have more goals … always more goals. Keeps me going.
But I’ll tell you one thing. It’s really, really hard for me to not use that exclamation point. 260 words today. Hurrah!

Wasn’t that a line from Georgie Girl? I’m beginning to understand that more as I get older, and it especially pertains to my TV watching.  My question – What’s this all about? This violence in nearly every show I enjoy? And why do I enjoy them? First, it’s the characters, themselves – not the victims or the perps, but the people who solve the crimes, and how they argue, play, disagree, ponder, come to consensus together.  For all I care it could be issues of solving road construction plans or environmental policies or city issues – would much rather it not be about finding and capturing murderers.  And those shows that have the Steve McQueen San Francisco-like car chases that are bigger than life, or the movies that destroy some 50 cars in one 2-minute commercial (Really – saw one at the movies yesterday!!), give me a break.

Now I know why I have so much trouble adding conflict to my writing.  I don’t write conflict. Tension and disagreements or strong differences of opinion are fertile grounds for my mind to work out the issues – seems I have been born with a mediator’s heart. But the over-the-top violence? Not into it.

Last year hubby and I recorded shows we enjoyed but didn’t want to stay up so late to watch on a regular basis, and they all seem to be 10 p.m shows – Castle, The Mentalist, CSI (with Mark Harmon), The Good Wife and Blue Bloods. Of those, four of them are involve brutal murders that need to be solved, and always with other murders show-cased on ‘Next week’s show’ previews. Only The Good Wife presented shows filled with non-murder tension, although some horrific crimes were still presented, tho only sometimes murders.

Why am I watching this stuff? It only serves to make me unhappy with my own writing, my sweet contemporary women’s fiction novel with so little conflict in it that I think late at night … maybe I should drop somebody off a bridge or have an accidental drowning for a little more spice. Then my heart gets the best of me. Nope. Not what I ever want to do. It’s just not me. No wonder I don’t like the murder on the ‘cast’ shows I enjoy.

So, for me these shows have become pretty much a thing of the past. I’ve been watching HGTV, Hallmark (in spite of the commercials that just won’t stop coming), and some spoiled children who shouldn’t be able to afford the huge houses they seem to have a budget for … and … I’m getting judgmental here, aren’t I?  Then I tell myself, well, this is the time to listen to some wonderful music on NPR, or my stereo, and read or knit or nap or have coffee with a friend. The more I involve myself in other activities (like yoga and gym classes 3 times a week and walking with a friend two other days), the more I am enjoying my own life, not stressing about the TV lives of people I don’t even know.

It’s also given me so much time to work on My book. My life. My reading list and My friends. I sort of lump it all together into MY TIME.  

In the spring and summer, even the fall, I never fall into these traps of TV watching. I’m too busy outside, soaking up that Vitamin D, going for walks, reading on the patio, writing in a journal every moring with a cup of coffee, again on the patio, and inspecting the asparagus, reminding myself over and over again that I really am going to start making my own salad dressings, and will learn to make a non-fail vinagerette … so many plans, so little time. I guess I just don’t have time for TV anymore, unless it’s Anderson Cooper, Masterpiece Theater, or something equally as refreshing. It’s comforting to finally know how much pleasure this gives me, and to still have the breath to enjoy it.

Really, think about it.  Only 500 words to put down what happens in a 65,000 or 85,000 word novel. Could I do it?  Gasp!  Didn’t think so, but I did.  This was our goal with the Mary Buckham on-line synopsis class, and I’m really happy with what I’ve pulled together for this novel. One piece of advice she gave us that really helped me – If you remove this word, or that word, or this whole phrase, will it change your story?  If not, leave it out!  And in spite of my doubts, it worked like a charm. It’s always nice when something turns out well.  I’m feeling blessed.

For me today has been a full writing day. Woke up at 2:15 a.m., got out of bed, sat down right here at the computer, and proceeded to finally draft out a synopsis for my novel. It’s only been how many years since I’ve been trying to do this?  Mary Buckham’s workshop pulled it all together for me. I finally pulled together the templates – In the Beginning, Internal template, External template, Role template, Protagonist template, Antagonist template, Villain template … and more .. the Black Moment template and the Resolution template … not to mention a 93 page ‘Sins of the Synopsis’ from Mary.  I pulled it together out of necessity. My facts were running together in a pitiful pattern.  Finally, I got down what I thought was ‘just the facts’ as Jack Friday used to say on Dragnet. (Oops, am I dating myself?).  My first attempt at synopsis (in this on-line class) came to just under 1500 words, but our goal was to boil it down to 500 words, and I just did that. But it’s now 8:17 p.m., and I long for a hot bath. I did, no kidding, get up at 2:15 a.m.  Sat down here, started working. Got up to throw on some sweats and hustle off to walk at the mall wtih a friend, then came back until 2:45 and left for a haircut … back home, back here, more synopsis.  Finally, finally I boiled this down to only 500 words.  Have posted it to Mary.

Am expecting her to let me know I’ve mistakenly removed some of the emotion, all of the conflict, and any suggestion of humor.  What’s a writer to do?  I’ll just have to wait and see!

I’ll let you know tomorrow.

Really, if you ever think you’re having a stroke, you probably are. I found out, one year ago tonight, when I began having a stroke. A friend from my yoga class this morning told me that a ‘bleed’ is called a ‘Red Stroke’ and a ‘clot’ (which I had) is a ‘white stroke’ … who knew?  It’s all so interesting, and what a year it’s been for us.  I know my stroke symptoms weren’t evident until the next morning, Jan. 18, but the evening of the 17th, around 11:30 p.m., I got up because I couldn’t go to sleep, fixed some hot tea, then promptly sloshed it all over me, the coffee table, the end table, the floor … easily 2/3 of the cup of tea sloshed out of the cup … I’m sure that’s when it first began.  Or maybe that was why I couldn’t sleep to begin with?  Who knows!  I just know the next morning, around 3:30 a.m. when I again got up because I couldn’t sleep, I shattered a glass in the bathroom first thing, then dropped two coffee mugs, dropped the phone receiver twice, and dropped the remote control twice, all with my right hand.  It’s funny … if you’re having a stroke, or at least for me, the thing you don’t do is connect the dots.  You think (or I did) … Good Grief.  My right hand is NOT working!!  But the dots didn’t come together to say … it means you’re having a stroke. Call 911.  All my right brain told me was .. .”Humm … interesting.”  😦

So, listen up folks, especially if you’re a woman.  Whatever you do, if you think you’re having a stroke, for God’s sakes, go shave your legs before you call 911 or leave for the emergency room. And I’m not kidding.  For the next three days, every Dr., Nurse, and practitioner in the hospital will come into your cubicle or room, push up your gown, push down your socks (which we all wear in the hospital because they keep the damn places so cold), and then they’ll rub their hands up and down your shins.  Some medical person told me what ‘reaction’ they’re looking for, but I can’t remember … it doesn’t matter.  In a couple of days I had probably 20 different people running their hands up and down the front of my lower legs.  And me?  Had I shaved my legs recently?  Of course not!!!! I could’ve died.  And I don’t mean from the stoke. I mean from humiliation!

But, today is a celebration day for me. I fixed a favorite dinner tonight, we toasted our good health with a delicous chilled white wine, and were pretty quiet – thankful, I think. I mean, what else is there to say? Made it, one year. Yea.  The neurologist at the hospital told me that 20% of stroke patients will have another stroke within one year.  Gasp. I worried about that the entire year. Every morning I would go into the bathroom, stand in front of the mirror and hold out my arms and hands straight, to see if a hand or arm migt be drooping. What I know now, from being in the Sacred Heart Stroke Center a couple of days, is that my left hand and arm were perfectly straight in front of me, but the right arm was straight with the hand flopping around like a wounded duck. They’d say, “Hold BOTH arms and hands out straight, and I’d say, “I AM!”  Like … HOW many times do I have to do this???  Well, enough, I guess is the answer.  When I came home I wondered what on earth they were all looking at.  I held my arms and hands out straight and … oops … what’s that right hand doing?  Oh … I see … Hummm … dead give away, I guess.

They also asked, “Touch your index finger on each hand to your nose.”  Oh, good grief.  How simple is that?  Left index to my nose, OK.  Right index … humm … going off in La-La land … touched the ring finger, instead, to my nose.  I remember looking up at the Dr. and saying, “Well, guess I flunked that one, didn’t I?”  Ahhhhh … yes.  I did. Flunk the test, that is.  But I’m here to tell you they were wonderful, gave me excellent care, and I am ever so grateful for all of that care, as well as the 6 weeks of out-patient therapy at St. Luke’s.

And to the friends who drove me hither and yon before they would let me drive again. Hopefully this is a thing of the past. They told me the only factor for stroke I had was that I was taking the osteoporosis medication Evista … looking it up on line I see lots of people taking it involved in stroke-induced class action law suits.  I don’t want to bother with any of that. I just want to thank the people who helped me thorugh a very difficult time … like my family, and friends … and yes, today is a very good day, indeed!

It’s true. Time does fly, but so do the hours and the days. Where do they go? I used to wonder as a child what tomorrow looked like. Sometimes now, in my real life, I wonder what today looks like. When it’s going by in a blur, who can tell?

I tell myself things like ‘I need a bigger calendar. I can’t write everything down on this,’ but my son would say, “No, Mom. You need a smaller calendar. You aren’t managing the one you’ve got.”

So, I ask you, how do we raise our children to be so bright but we don’t learn the lessons we’re trying to teach? Or maybe they just pass right through us and hopefully land on our kids.

Earlier this year I wanted to get back to my writing. Well, boy, did I ever get my wish in spades. They say you must be careful what you wish for, and I’m here to tell you it’s all true, every word of it.

I sit here now with synopsis workshop assignments due, with two very full (and large) boxes of library information I volunteered to oversee (what was I thinking?) for one writing group, with goals to be posted for another writing group, and I haven’t even written a book yet.

However, I did have a great first meeting last night with the Sassy Scribes, at a coffee shop in Hayden, Idaho. I also learned there are two towns with similar names – Hayden, ID and Hayden LAKE, ID … big difference. But my designated driver (Hubby) faithfully took the ride with me, we found the place, and he browsed the local Borders while I chatted it up at Starbucks. Such a life … so many manuscripts, so little time!

WOW! Mary Buckham is fantastic, and I’m suddenly very much involved in her Synopsis on-line workshop. It’s like there’s no hiding any plot holes in a story with Mary around to dig those missing pieces out. I even learned today that ‘things’ – like issues with land or inheritance or things like this, can even be considered a secondary antagonist. Who knew? Not me!! I think this is going to set my little train back on track and give me a great start to finishing up my book project this year. My goal is two chapters a week, and to be finished by the time for our RWA retreat in May at the Western Pleasures Guest Ranch! All for now.