Roughing the Elements

Yesterday, the words wet, soggy, misty, cloudy, drizzly and annoying described the day. Despite the lousy weather, my friend and I were determined to attend the opening day of the annual Apple Butter Festival in Berkeley Springs, West Virginia.

My friend and I had circled the weekend on our calendars a month ago and I knew I couldn't let him down. This is his birthday weekend and I was determined to get him to the Festival, even if for an hour or two.

We found parking on a side street and immediately joined thousands of other intrepid souls huddled under tarps, umbrellas, baseball caps and hoodies with their children and soggy dogs on leashes. An hour or two of walking in the rain and dodging other umbrellas and strollers by isn't my idea of a good time, but we rolled up our jeans and I kissed my smooth hair goodbye.

The luscious smells of pumpkin, apple butter, cinnamon and sugar lured and led us directly to a food truck with a huge sign out front that read: Funnel Cakes. The long line of people told us this was the place to be. Despite sidestepping each other's umbrellas, everyone seemed to be in a great mood. I bought two pumpkin funnel cakes and we headed to the relative safety of a small tree to sample the amazing concoction. I'd eaten my first funnel cake when my kids were in elementary school and this was to be my second experience. After the first scrumptious bite of heavenly Pumpkin Funnel Cake with powdered sugar on top entered my mouth, I shut my eyes and for a second, I forgot where I was. My hair frizzed up and a raindrop rolled down my cheek, but I didn't care--I was in heaven!

Perseverance and a positive mindset are what's for dinner. The ultimate rewards of sticking to the highs and lows of a writing project (or any difficult project) and coming out of the valley can be pure magic. If you stick to it. Those of us who left our warm homes on a chilly, rainy day to brave the elements were rewarded with great memories of a fun Fall day in beautiful and historic  Berkeley Springs, West Virginia.

I left a job and the DC area to write full-time and although I don't always see the rewards of my sacrifices every day, I'm getting closer. I can feel it. Roughing the elements is tough at times, but the experiences have been well-worth my efforts and I know the end will be beautiful.

Ellie

What Publishing and Sharks Have in Common

This morning I'm thinking of the 12 people who went to work at Building 197 in Washington, DC's Navy yard yesterday morning who will never return to their families and loved ones. Events and tragedies such as this one boggle the mind. We just never know when it's our turn. Even with a strong faith, we have a hard time understanding it all, especially when children are involved. I have a hard time with that.

We're left with many questions. Was this merely their time? Did any of those who perished have a feeling that they should have called in sick that morning? Is there a rhyme or reason to life? Why do good people die and why do others escape within an inch of their life? How does it feel to be next to someone who loses his or her life and you escape? I don't know the answers.

While taking a break from swimming in the waters of Cape Hatteras two weeks ago, I watched a black Lab try very hard not to follow his master into the surf. He or she had a hard time remaining in a sitting position, but ultimately obeyed his master who repeatedly told him to sit and stay. The Lab continued to wiggle his bottom and wag his tail in anticipation for the call from his master that never came, so he remained on the shore. When I caught this shot, the Lab raised a paw as if he were begging to join his master. I could feel his nervousness and see his jittery actions from where I was sitting in my comfy beach chair with a cold Dos XX beer.

Minutes later, a few yards away, a surf fisherman caught a Black Tip shark in three feet of water. I knew he was reeling in something large and 15 minutes later, I saw the shark's fin. Holy shnikies. I shuddered to think what could happened to the dog's master or the dog had he gone into the water. My friends, their children and I swam in that very spot earlier in that morning. Wow. I didn't want to think about that, either. Needless to say, everyone on the beach remained close to shore or swam in the tide pool that afternoon with no life guard present.

Life. We just never know what's coming down the road for us, sometimes at warp speed. Did the dog know the shark was out there? Did he want to protect and warn his master? Who knows.

Ever since the release of the movie, Jaws and watching Shark Week religiously for years, I've remained in waist high water and very vigilant in the ocean. Murky waters and I don't go in. But, I remember that it bugged me that I couldn't force myself to go in deeper that morning. The waters were crystalline blue and I was excited to ride the high waves with my friend's children on their boogie boards. And then, voila. There was my worst fear realized--a damn shark.

I felt conflicted as the shark was reeled in and flopped around on the shore. My emotions went in so many directions. I love nature, animals and here was this majestic shark with a huge hook in its mouth. I fidgeted on the beach and called out to hurry up and remove the hook. I wanted the fisherman to lead the shark back into the water as soon as humanly possible which he did. I didn't want the shark to die and yet, I wanted that shark out of the water because I wanted to swim and ride the waves and for people to be safe!

I ended up going back into the ocean the next day with a fishing rod and blood worms as bait (should have used squid or shrimp). I surf fished for the first time in waist-high water. I loved it. I was taking a risk, but that's what I had to do. I had to get back into the water, but I wanted to be distracted by fishing which I love. I don't get it either, so don't worry if you're not following my thought processes. We're all more complicated that we realize! It was the only way I could return to the ocean.

Since this is a blog about the writing life and I'm a writer, of course, my thoughts go to my novel, A Decent Woman. I dove into clear waters by writing my book in 2006 and wasn't worried about the future. I had no clue about the writing business or how difficult it would be to see my novel in print. I had to leave my manuscript a year later when my marriage fell apart and I left Europe where I'd lived for 13 years. The waters quickly became murky and I didn't touch my novel for four years while I worked full time, saw my kids through university, and went back to school. I jumped back into the writing waters in 2010 and with editing and querying agents, have swum against heavy currents since then with the publishing business as it is today. Some days, the waters are crystal clear for me and others are murky as hell when I want to chuck it all and self-publish.

Would I have started writing my novel if I'd known how frustrating and 'dangerous' to my emotions and mindset writing and the publishing world can be when you're trying to sell your book? Yes. I love the ocean and writing and yes, I have a fear of sharks and never seeing my book in print. What can you do, but protect yourself as much as possible and continue living and writing which I intend to do.

I've just had to develop thicker skin and remain committed to my novel-length manuscript and second novel which I'm presently writing. Don't wait to write if you feel that urge. Just do it. Jump in and swim.

Ellie

Going Solo and Taking Risks in Life

I replaced the power cord on my laptop last year and was back in business. This morning, my newish power cord didn't do the job. I'm borrowing my neighbor's power cord and had to apply plumbing tape just to keep it plugged in.

Ellie Unplugged. I don't like the sound of that, so my son ordered me yet another power cord. Thank you, son! I just pray it's not my laptop...that would suck royally.

I love new beginnings whether it's me, someone I love or a complete stranger. I love challenges, new experiences and new vistas and my children are no strangers to new beginnings. We started new lives in the United States after my marital separation in Belgium 2005 where we'd lived for 13 years. I taught my children by example to embrace new beginnings and take risks in life and they are certainly following my lead--my son is taking a three week "lone wolf" trek through Southeast Asia next month.

My initial reaction was a dropped jaw as I heard the news from my son on the phone this afternoon. But I know my son--he will research everything he can possibly research and he's travel savvy enough to know that he has to be careful and watchful. He has consulate phone numbers, train schedules and names of hotels on the way, but he's solo. I'm thrilled and worried at the same time. However, I raised fearless children and that makes me proud. I shouldn't be surprised that he is ready for this international trek.

My son invited his sister, my daughter, on this trip which really warmed my heart. But she is in graduate school and working part-time, not a good time for her. I'm PRAYING that she can go on one portion of the trip as she has always wanted to visit Southeast Asia. I think this would be a great trip for them both. My daughter is on her own adventure with graduate school and her new beginning will be when she graduates--she's a natural born therapist. I'm as thrilled for her as this is her passion in life and the happiest day will be when she graduates and my other happiest day will be when my son returns from this "lone wolf" trip!!

I joked with my son that I had time off and could go along on his adventure and knew that he'd laugh--he did :) It's not my place to go on this trip or any trip that my children go on these days. These are my children's life adventures and I'm thrilled for them. I did good with these two. I'm so proud of their life's achievements and their courage in the face of adversity when it has hit. I couldn't ask for any more from my children--they amaze me and I love them more than life itself.

Writing a book takes a lot of the same things that we're talking about here--risk taking, stamina, courage, resilience, strength of character, facing rejection and setbacks, and love of our stories and characters. Writing my first book, A Decent Woman, was a new chapter for me and seeing my book in print will be a whole new beginning and I'm more than ready for that!

Take the risk for your dream and passion in life--you'll never be sorry you did. Just put one foot in front of the other and walk toward your new beginning.

Peace and love,
Ellie

How An Audition Helped Me Push Past My Fear

I'm all for taking on challenges that put or push me outside my comfort zone. It has been my experience that when I do this, I am able to tackle and finish projects that have me stuck or stumped at the moment. I've also found that taking a risk and doing something totally out of character builds confidence.

Writing is one such challenge. Once I finished the first draft of my novel, I had no idea how much out of my comfort zone I'd go. Writing a book is one long, lonely road which requires strength of character, persistence and patience of which I didn't have a lot of when I began. I was absent the day God handed out extra patience.

I believe that putting ourselves out there in new situations can help us in ways that we never expected or dreamed of. For example, I wrote my first novel, A Decent Woman, in six months. The first draft came quickly to me and then, years of rewriting and editing as I was new at writing novels. I learned as I went along, read books on writing and storytelling and always kept reading books by favorite and new authors. I didn't always really know what I was doing, but I plugged along and soon I had a copy of my manuscript I was happy with. I was in a great rhythm and very pleased with myself. I was proud of finishing a book!

Soon, it came time to query agents. Now, I was in a world I knew nothing about. I hemmed and hawed, read through books on the subjects of marketing and publishing books, but still I couldn't see the next concrete step. That was when I lost a bit of self-confidence. Now what? Was I stuck? Was I blocked or was it a case of never seeing my book in print? I couldn't let that happen. I had too many books to write to just lay down the manuscript and forget about it.

Right about that time, a friend called to invite me to her theatrical performance of The Vagina Monologues. I invited ten friends who were doing The Artist's Way with me at the time and we had a wonderful time. After the performance, we hung around to congratulate our friend who'd done a monologue theater piece the year before. She told me that her theater group was holding auditions for a comedy to be performed in the fall and she urged me to audition. Me? No way. I'd performed in high school and had a bit part in a college production, but I was a writer and an artist, not an actor. 

My friend bugged me until I accepted the challenge. I was scared to death. As I stood there among veteran actors, I just knew I was in the wrong place. What had I been thinking? This was a joke. I had a fear of speaking in public. I'd given talks on subjects I knew a lot about in school, but this was entirely out of my comfort zone. So, I pushed past my fear and since I was already in the theater and would have looked like a baby if I walked out, I went through with the audition process. Well, the audition was a blast. We read lines in funny voices and foreign accents and at the end, my sides hurt from laughing so much. I made new friends and although I didn't get one of three parts for women, I had a great time and learned a lot about myself--I can do comedy.

I came home that night with renewed strength, pride and new-found courage. Things always look worse and harder until we actually do them. The unknown is sometimes scary, but looking back, we realize that the things we feared weren't all that bad. I began querying agents the next morning.

So, say yes to new challenges, you just might surprise yourself.

Peace and love,
Ellie

Thoughts of Dogwoods and Life

The sidewalks and streets in my neighborhood are wet and my garden is green again. I looked out the window this morning and smiled. No snow and the sun is out. I instantly felt energetic and wonder if the lack of sun affects me or is it just that I love the sun and sunny days. I immediately feel more energetic even if I'm home and don't go out in the sun, just seeing the sun makes me feel better. My neighbors must feel the same way as I hear my neighbor's children playing in the yard and all this week, I've heard birdsong around dawn. Spring has arrived.

After breakfast, I walked through my garden in my white robe, sipping hot tea and checking on all my babies. I hope that the perennials I planted last summer bloom again. I spotted two robins along the back fence and noticed new growth on the hydrangea plants and the astilbe. The daffodils and lilies are six inches high now and the ivy in the pot is as strong as ever. I still have this month to prune my ancient grapevines and the little dogwood tree my friend D gave me last year has tiny buds on the branches. That made me happiest of all. 

Last year on Earth Day, my friend D was offered two 'twigs', dogwood trees with roots in a plastic bag of dirt. She surprised me with one 'twig' last year as a house warming gift and couldn't have known how happy that made me. D said she didn't know if the 'twig' would survive, but I was hopeful and so pleased.

You see, dogwoods were my mother's favorite tree. They will always remind me of my mother who passed away in 1992. She also loved lilac bushes. I love both. My parents had several flowering dogwood trees on their property in Northern Virginia. Beautiful dogwoods in creamy white and shades of light and darker pink. They're delicate-looking, compact trees that don't grow huge like an oak or a maple, perfect for a smaller yard like mine. Well, I was thrilled.

A Virginia dogwood had ended up in a West Virginian garden. Just like me, a Virginia transplant in a new home, I told D. I too, had been delicate, fragile, and had replanted myself many times after my divorce. My kids, family and many friends feared for me in a new town and state, worried that I'd hate West Virginia and that I'd made an awful mistake in moving. It didn't matter that it hadn't been my choice to leave Europe, end my marriage, and move across the Atlantic, but here I am.

I immediately planted the little dogwood in a large clay pot and decided that we would no longer call it 'twig'. It's a dogwood and I babied that tree all last spring. Midsummer D visited again and we planted the dogwood in my yard. I decided to plant it along the side fence away from the wind that always blows like crazy through the side yard. She reminded me that I would have to move it, but I was dead set in protecting it first. I staked the little dogwood and it has thrived there. The dogwood grew four inches last year and I'm praying that it survives the winter and continues to thrive. But, I might have made a small mistake with my precious little dogwood...

I planted it along the side fence, way too close to the fence, actually. In my attempt to protect and save the sapling, I'd forgotten about trust and allowing things to progress as they are meant to. I'll have to move it to a location where it is able grow as large as it wants. The spot is confining and not conducive to future growth...I forgot to trust.

as I write this blog post, it feels eerie. The comparisons between my new life in West Virginia and this little dogwood are amazing to me. I've always felt in tune with nature, so this shouldn't surprise me.

Two springs ago, I moved to West Virginia to start a new life. I bought and move to a house that I could well afford and to a location that would allow me to write full time. At the time, I saw no other option. Friends and my children encouraged me to look at other houses, but I was so afraid that I just made the decision and did it. West Virginia isn't forever, but it sure has been a soft place to land and I've been able to live my life as I envisioned it. I've felt safe and protected in this place. The experience of moving on my own has been difficult at times because I'm away from my two adult children, but I've healed here. I'd put down tender, shallow roots and they spread. I've grounded myself in this town and I feel I've thrived...

but, I now realize that I've planted myself real close to the fence in an attempt to regroup after divorce. I wonder what would have happened if I'd trusted and been a bit more patient? Well, I'm not one to dwell on the past nor agonize over decisions. I did what I thought was right for me. I finished my novel and have begun to write my second book. I've made friends and feel a part of my crazy and colorful neighborhood. I've also protected my heart in many ways...there it is.

Is it time for me to move away from the fence? What will moving away from the fence mean for me? What will it look like?

It looks like book #3, that's what it looks like :) The outline is already written because I've lived it. That book will be the sequel to the book I'm writing now or the ending...and I didn't realize it until just NOW. Just this second.

Trust.

Peace and love,
Ellie

The Nest

I don't know when the first day of spring is this year, so I'm pretending it's today. The skies are blue, the sun is shining and it's a beautiful, albeit chilly day. 

On our walk this morning, Ozzy and I came across a bird's nest in a tree that we've probably passed every day. Either I never noticed the nest or it's being prepared. I raised up on my tip toes to peek inside and it was empty. The nest sits on a branch of a young tree in our common area where people walk their dogs and of course, there are those who don't pick up after their dogs. It's annoying because I have to walk gingerly, looking down or I'm liable to step in a hot mess that usually isn't easy to remove from my shoes or boots which has, of course, happened.

I'm surprised the birds have built a nest in this spot because it's heavily traveled and the little tree is barely seven feet high. Last summer, I heard chirping and found a baby bird lying on the ground, its eyes barely open. I always walk with my eyes to the ground for poop purposes which is a good thing because I might have stepped on the baby. The birdling was weak, wet and not happy about his situation. He kept opening his mouth for food and my immediate impulse was to pick up the birdling and place it in the nest I'd discovered on a low branch of the tree closest to the baby. But I didn't touch the baby for fear that I'd do something wrong. I remembered someone telling me that if a human touches a baby bird, its mother might reject it and I didn't know if that was an old myth, so I went home to search the Internet to see what I should do. As I walked home, I had a real fear that the many feral cats in my neighborhood would snatch the baby before I got back. I was a nervous wreck!

What I learned was that I had to fill a clean, plastic container with shredded paper and nail it to the tree, as close to the nest as I could and using gloves, pick up the baby and place it in the makeshift nest. I left Ozzy in the house and ran back to the common area with the materials to save this baby -- I was on a mission! Thank goodness the baby was still there. I looked around for the mother, but I didn't see any birds. I could hear one though, off in the distance as I nailed the container to the tree.

The instant I picked up the baby, a bird came out of nowhere and swooped down, aiming for my head! I ducked and honest to God, that bird continued her 'attack' until I moved away from the tree and crossed the street. Then, the bird sat on a power line and we watched each other. How stupid of me to think that the bird would be thankful that I'd rescued the baby! I laughed at my naivete and told the bird that I would have done the same thing if anyone had touched my babies.

The next day, Ozzy and I went out for our walk and the nest was empty. I listened and checked the surrounding area and nothing. I hoped the bird had taken the baby to a safer location, but I also wondered if a cat had indeed killed the birdling. I'd never know. I'd done my part and realized that nature would do as nature does. I also laughed because if it weren't for the poop left behind by irresponsible dog owners , I might not have been looking down that day :) C'est la vie.

Happy weekend to you!

Peace and love,

Ellie

Moments of Pure Magic

Three inches does not a blizzard make. The weather experts on the local and national news stations looked a bit sheepish last night when they announced that the DC area had barely reached two inches of snow. I couldn't help but feel bad for them and was happy for all the kids who were off from school yesterday. I'm sure kids all over the area were hooting and hollering on their way out the door with sleds and dreams of epic snowball fights. Ya gotta love kids.

On the news last night, a mother told a reporter how she'd searched online for the location with the most snow in the area and she'd driven her kids to Manassas, Virginia so that they could play in the snow. Beautiful! Good for her and her kids, I thought.

I love a good snowfall, but I didn't enjoy trudging through the slushy snow to the post office yesterday. The sidewalks were impassable which meant that the only recourse I had was to walk the one block to the post office in the cleared street. Almost immediately, I felt cold wetness in my sock. Nice. The winter boots I purchased two winters ago were no longer water-proof. Fun!

I remember as a kid when NOTHING kept me inside and nothing prevented me from playing outside other than restriction, no matter what the weather was. My mother bundled my sister and I up until we looked like mini-blimps and once she opened that front door, we were gone until nighttime. How did we do it? How did we stay out that long? I suppose those were more innocent times when parents could let their kids out to play and not worry so much. We had no cell phones to keep us connected with our parents and were never where we told our mother we'd be. Never!

I remember one snowy afternoon when my sister, some friends and I decided that we would make an igloo. I'm laughing as I type this. Not should we or could we, we would. I love kids and their incredible imagination. They have no fear and no censor in their heads telling them that it's impossible. Of course we made that igloo! It was a fine igloo-like structure and it took us all afternoon. I still remember peeking out of our makeshift doorway in wonder as the sun went down and the snow glistened under the back porch light like millions of diamonds. A moment of pure magic! We heard my mother yelling for us shortly after that and I remember worrying that the boys would destroy our igloo in the morning. I hardly slept.

When we got inside, my sister and I stripped off our wet clothing onto the bathroom floor. The hems of my pants were frozen and I probably could have balanced my stiff pants to stand upright. I remember looking at my red, chapped legs as I entered the hot bath, wondering if I'd lose my legs to frost-bite. The steam rose off the hot water and soon, I felt tingling sensations as my skin warmed up. I never did lose a limb to snow, but in later years, my sister and I would laugh that a hot bath is probably the worst thing you can do for near-frostbite! We didn't know and we didn't have a Merck manual at home. We simply played outside until we could no longer feel our fingers and toes and then, we went home with runny noses and huge smiles.

My mother was a relaxed mother or maybe she just needed time to herself. I, on the other hand, was not so relaxed with my young kids. I owned a Merck manual that listed every disease known to man and I used it! "Let me see that spot on your leg again," I'd tell the kids. "What were your symptoms again?" It got to the point where I was so frightened that something would happen to my kids that I couldn't relax. I threw out that Merck manual and my kids taught me to play again. It was either keep my kids inside or go outside with them because the world in the late '80's was much different from the world of the 60's. So, I joined in.

Last night, I took a slushy walk with my Pug, Ozzy. Again, I marveled at how the snow glistened and sparkled under the streetlight as we walked home. Pure magic. Today, my inner child is alive and well. Take your inner child out and get your play on.

Peace and love,
Ellie

Pruning Your Novel

Have you ever kept your Christmas tree up long after Christmas music is off the airwaves and the wrapping paper is put away? I have. As long as the needles aren't littering my wood floors and the tree is thriving, I find it very difficult to throw away a perfectly good tree. I've had the same feelings about heavy editing, it's tough, but necessary.

Every Christmas I choose a live tree and fresh wreaths and garlands to decorate the exterior and interior of my house. The evergreen smells and the joy that fresh trees and greenery offer me are worth the trouble and money. Once, I kept my tree and decorations up until March because I couldn't bear tossing them into the back of the trash truck. It happened again this year with the garlands of greenery along my front fence and the fresh wreath my friend gave me for Christmas - the one on the antique chair I placed on my front porch. Correction, had. I finally threw the wreath away yesterday. I hated doing that and was hoping to add little Easter eggs to it, but it was too dry and brittle.

I had the same experience with cutting out certain scenes and chapters in my first novel. I had put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into those scenes and chapters. I loved them, but ultimately, I had to face the fact that they did nothing for the novel I was working on. Pruning the novel felt like cutting away pieces of me!  It was hard to do, but I understood why it had to be done. I could use those chapters and scenes in another book.

This coming March, I have to prune the ancient Concord grapevine on my patio that offers me precious shade in spring and summer, not to mention bushels and bushels of wonderful grapes through October. I bought this old house two years ago and couldn't bear the thought of pruning, fearful that I'd kill it in the process of  pruning!

The first summer, I had more grapes than I could eat and last summer, the harvest was great, but not as bountiful as the previous year. I could tell.  My friend insisted that this March was pruning time - a heavy, no holds barred pruning. That terrifies me. What if I kill it? What if the vines never grow back? I know it has to be done, but I'm scared.

It was then that I realized that there would be new growth on that old grapevine and more grapes.  I also realized that there would be another book and another book after that with heavy editing.  The three things I love, Christmas, gardening, and writing would continue and thrive with careful attention, love and pruning.

Pruning is necessary for new growth and a beautiful harvest.

Peace and love,
Ellie

What Flooding Has To Do With Writing

This morning, I discovered this photo taken in March of last year of the Potomac River in West Virginia.  That year, the river crested at 27 feet and the owners of riverfront lots on lower ground woke up to this sight. Yes, that's a child's swing set in the upper right hand corner of the photograph. Our lot levels out at 30 feet, so we were close, but safe...that time.

We riverfront lot owners know that flooding is something we have to deal with and we accepted that fact when we bought. There have been times when we've chosen to ride out the weather and watch the rising river, praying that it will crest way below what's been predicted. There was the time when my friend Gwen and I decided that it was time to call in the big guns - the tow truck company that would haul the camper to higher ground which is a difficult, tedious and costly decision. It turned out that we'd predicted wrong. The river didn't reach our patio, but many lot owners experienced flooded campers and lots. I saw refrigerators and coolers float by. It's a gamble living on the river. I was okay with the decision that was ultimately mine and I learned to be more patient and watchful for signs that maybe we would be okay staying put.

I have to be alert to NOAA's predictions and then, gamble. To move or not to move to higher ground, that's the question and floods can happen any time of year. In recent years, melting snow in the mountains have caused the MD and WV creeks and rivers to flood and surge toward the Potomac River in the spring. Last April, my friend Kristine and I watched the waters of the Potomac River reach the fifth step of the stairs that lead to the river as we sat around a bonfire at 3 am, wondering if we could chance falling asleep. What an adventure Kris and I had that night! Our adrenaline was pumping and we made the right choice not to panic early and call the tow truck company. We'd gambled and survived and we were very proud of ourselves! My co-owner Dana and I are two of four women who own riverfront lots. Men watch us to see how we'll react, we know that. And, we've learned well and we've survived two seasons now. This spring will be our third - we're here to stay :)

Our friends who own lots on higher ground say they couldn't stand the stress and the uncertainty of living on the river. I shrug and say that the pleasures and beauty of waking up to a view of the Potomac River while I sip my coffee are worth the risk. When I see geese glide over the river, an eagle soar overhead or watch a new family of ducks swim by and listen to the fishermen's conversations from boats I can't see through the early morning fog, I'm at peace. "Just not worth it", our neighbors have said to us and we smile because when the weather is dry and hot, these same neighbors will be calling us to see about bringing their kids over to swim and fish off our floating dock.

Writing a novel is like that.  It's a risk, a gamble that we as writers sign up for every time we start a new book. Writing isn't for everyone. The risks that our story might not be picked up by a big name agent or a big publishing house are there, ever present, but we persevere. Friends and family secretly believe that we should get a day job. But, we know that the pleasure is in the writing, it's a passion that has put its hooks into us and we can't deny it.

Yes, there have been times when I've thought about throwing in the towel and calling it a day at the river and with my first novel-length manuscript, A Decent Woman. I've experienced and dare I say, have been plagued by night time thoughts that we'll lose the camper to flooding and that I won't see my book in print. But then, I think about spring and summer mornings to come when I'll sit and write at our farm table on the patio that faces the river and it all goes away. My two loves will come together again. I'll be reminded of how blessed I am to write and will continue to put myself out there with my novel. I visualize my book in print.

Writing is worth the long hours, isolation and uncertainty that come with it and the longer hours and uncertainty when we're ready for an agent and a publisher. I'm a storyteller and I love the river, what can ya do? How else am I going to get my 55 year old blood pumping?

Peace and love,
Ellie

One Way to Overcome Writer's Block

Hi all,

Yesterday I found out that my local library has a fax machine for public use.  I don't mean that you can stand there and fax any ol' thing you want.  First, you have to get through the tall, wiry, and might I add, stern-looking woman who will fax documents for you at one dollar per page. I don't know if this is common practice in libraries, but as a person who hasn't figured out how to install her printer at home which has fax/scanning and printing capabilities, this was awesome news.  Please don't tell my local library if it's not 'normal', I love it!

After I faxed my documents (so easy!), I trudged upstairs to the computer room  and decided to see what it would feel like to enter a strange room, write a new blog on a strange computer (to me) among 20 strangers. 

As I waited to get assigned a computer, I scanned the room.  Much like I do in a crowded restaurant while I wait for the host/hostess to seat me. I want a nice table and not in the middle of the room, thank you very much. The computer room was packed with people of all ages.  The only free computers were right smack in the middle of the middle aisle of three aisles. Damn!  People on all sides.  I don't like sitting in the middle of any room. I've always liked my back against the walls, so that I can view YOU :)

NOTE: I've worked in residential treatment centers for kids...you don't turn your back, ever. I learned that quick and it has stuck with me.


I didn't have to stay in the computer room.  I have a perfectly lovely red laptop at home. I could have left any time after faxing my documents. But something pulled me upstairs. I'm curious, intuitive and I happen to reading "The Alchemist" for the third time.  (My daughter gave me her Kindle and the book happens to be on her list, so I started at 4:30 am when I couldn't sleep.)  Yes, 4:30 am.  Well, I love a good challenge and I wondered if I would meet anyone interesting in the computer room.  Would I meet someone with a message for me about my novel?  Would I meet the Alchemist? The King? The Englishman? A talking camel?  Who knows, but I'm open to new experiences.

I was up for the challenge, but writing my new blog in this computer room was posing an internal challenge for me. I could do it and I would!  I would accept whatever computer was offered to me and not worry that someone was looking at my screen.  That was it!  I was feeling 'naked' and spied upon and I hadn't even sat down.

I pushed through it, looked to my left and right several times (just because) and looked behind me because the guy was having a conversation with his rental office. Highly annoying.  Someone else had their music blaring and I could hear the rap music through his head phones.  Very annoying.

I pushed on!  I checked Facebook, checked my two email accounts and replied so some emails and I wrote this blog :) There is ALWAYS a lesson and a lesson learned in every situation and experience that we have. I usually learn something new from a brief conversation with a neighbor or someone in line at the grocery store.  I truly believe that. You have to be open to people, places and things.  I usually am.

What did I learn this morning during my writing experience at my local library?

Writing at home is freakin' awesome :) I can't wait to walk home and fire that baby up and write to my heart's content.  Make your writing experience crappy, challenging or just interesting enough and I guarantee you that your computer will look awesome to you when you get home.

Peace out,
Ellie

But, I Digress...

Hi all,

We had snow flurries this morning!  I woke up, checked my phone for the time (no one wears watches anymore) and at 8:38, we had wet snow and snow flurries.  I was as excited as a kid, teen or adult who is hoping to get out of school or work or the commute to work.  And, I work from home :)  Hell, as an at-home Mom, I was excited for my kids to stay home so we could play! They had my ex-husband's genes in that respect, however...they never wanted to miss a day of school.  But, I digress...

Then, it was all over.  The snow flurries landed on wet sidewalks and it was all over, really before it even began.  Bummer.  I really wanted to see snow on the ground this morning.  I wanted to put on my old gray robe, make a pot of vanilla chai tea (chai means tea, doesn't it?) and write to my heart's content, watching the snow fall from the dining room window.

I've always wanted to live in a Currier & Ives painting. I want to live in a thatched roof cottage by a lazy river that has a brick bridge going that leads to my children's homes because they live a stone's throw from my house.  But, I digress...

Of course, I put on my old gray robe, made a pot of vanilla chai and powered up the laptop.  I edited my novel yesterday from 9 in the morning to nearly 10 at night with a few breaks. I was on a roll! Why?  Because I forgot to pay my cable bill that includes the Internet :)  No distractions and it worked like a charm.  I made huge strides on my novel and I'm so, so pleased with the first ten chapters.  But, I digress...wait.  What is this blog about any way?  Writing, snow, or kids?

So, I powered up the laptop this morning, shoo'd the cat away from my vanilla chai (which must be a drug as powerful as catnip for my Maine Coon, Pierre) and took Ozzy my Pug out for a quick walk.  On our walk, I noticed that Main Street has put on their Holiday accessories which are beautiful.  I just LOVE walking through small towns with big Christmas and holiday decorations like the town I live in.  It's charming this time of year, but I digress...

You know what? I don't have a damn clue what this blog is about.  I started losing the thread almost immediately and I don't think I even had a thread!  I just started writing.  That's the way it happens with me.  I just start to write and I end up with a short story, five poems (I canNOT write just poem) or a blog.  I write dialogue, scenes and character descriptions.  I rewrite paragraphs, whole chapters, beginnings and endings.  I never get bored.

I don't really know what today is all about, but I DO know that I have to write like I have to breathe.  I have to write and you should, too.

So back to my novel :)  Happy writing.

Peace and love,
Ellie

On Being Grateful and Gracious

Hi all,

This will be my last blog before Thanksgiving as tomorrow morning, I'll be on a train headed to Northern Virginia.  I'm excited to see my children and cook our side dishes together.  I'm also excited to share our Thanksgiving meal with my sister and her children in Maryland.  

I wish you a beautiful Thanksgiving with your loved ones and safe travels if you'll be on the road!

I love traveling by train.  Not only do I love the beautiful West Virginia and Virginia countryside, it's a great way to people watch.  I'm not a stalker, believe me!  I just enjoy observing and listening to people, wondering what their story is as I sit quietly, enjoying the views.  More than once, I've built characters on people I've watched and listened to.  I watch their body language, how they interact with others and their facial expressions as they converse. People are fascinating to me :)

I'll be cooking side dishes with my son and my daughter in her home while watching the Thanksgiving Day parade in NYC and in the afternoon, we drive to Maryland to share Thanksgiving dinner with my youngest sister and her kids.  We always have a great time when we get together and this Holiday should be no different.  We laugh and joke while we get dinner and the table ready, we take photos of each other and the kids as a group, we start dinner off with a prayer and I always ask my family to say what they're thankful for.

That Thanksgiving tradition might be getting old for our kids who range in age from 27 to 21, (maybe it's already old for them!) but I never tire of it.  To me, it's important to give thanks and NOT only on this day.  I believe that the root of happiness and joy is in the giving to others and not in the receiving.  This year, I got a surprise that changed my mind a bit.

My family is blessed and we know we are.  We've all had difficulties, faced challenges and found ourselves in the deep valleys before.  Most of us have come out of those valleys into the sunshine.  I hope you have, too.  When I've found myself in the dark, I only have to look around me and listen - there's always someone who needs help, my help.

In the past, it was me who was the helper whenever I could.  This year, I received many blessings and realized that for once, I was the person other's thought needed help.  That came as a big surprise to me as a self-sufficient, stubborn, single Mom!  I like to think that I've got all my ducks in a row and my shit sorted out :) I just didn't expect it and it was beautiful!

This year I received four invitations from beautiful new friends in my new town to share Thanksgiving dinner with their families because they wanted to make sure I wasn't alone.  They know that I live two hours from my kids and family.  Another friend brought me a little artificial Christmas tree with lights because he knows that I'll spend Christmas with my kids and family in Virginia this year and he figured that I'd probably not put up a tree this year.  Beautiful!

Those invitations and gifts, were precious gifts to me.  Gifts that warmed my heart and yes, made me cry. I cry a lot these days which I attribute to menopause :)  Happy tears, mind you.  My friends wanted to make sure that I was taken care of and that's a beautiful thing. I was so thankful and grateful.

I learned a valuable lesson this week.  Life is a give and take and it's as important to allow others to help us as it is to help others.  It's good Karma for everyone involved :)

Happy Thanksgiving to you.

Peace and love,

Ellie