Sunday, December 23, 2012

Someday


Don't you love it when you start with a piece of writing so rough you don't think it has a chance of ever making sense, but you change a word here, remove a word there, add a  phrase or two – and suddenly, right before your eyes, it begins to morph into something worthwhile – and your spirits soar!

That's what keeps me writing, I think – the possibility of a beautiful surprise today or tomorrow or somewhere down the road. I’m always waiting, expecting great words to flow effortlessly from my mind and live forever.

When I was just a child, I spent a lot of time lying on my bed writing poems and stories. I still have some of them. When I got married, my mother gave me two large boxes full of my early writings. My puffed up ego says, "Keep them. Someday you'll be glad you did." But the invisible sprite that sits on my shoulder trying to discourage me, says, "Throw them away. They're worthless!"

I've already reworked some of them and had them published, but many still linger in their original storage boxes, the paper growing brown and crisp with age – waiting, knowing that somewhere among them lives that one story, poem, or turn of phrase that will become immortal. Someday.

Ah... how sweet the hopes and dreams of a writer!

How inflated the ego!


Saturday, June 30, 2012

The Benefits of Writing

Nothing excites me as much as writing. When I was a young child, I’d lie on my bed and dream up poems relevant to what was going on in my life at the time. Sometimes my writing was happy, and other times, it was incredibly sad. If my dog died, the poetry echoed the despair I felt, and as I became older, it was more about friendships – and then, first love, happiness and heartbreak.

It’s still that way today. Whatever is going on is what motivates me.

Isn’t it like that for all writers? Our writing reflects our moods. And that’s not a bad thing. Perhaps it’s a way to avoid a lot of problems. It’s a well-known fact that artistic people are more emotional than others. So, instead of allowing our emotions to turn inward causing ulcers, high blood pressure and other health issues, we pour them into our stories and poems for others to enjoy. Or not.

At any rate, we get rid of them. If we’re lucky, we manage to put something worthwhile on paper. And if we’re very fortunate, others will get some benefit from what we write. I’ve been told many times that my writings “made someone’s day,” or “made him laugh – changing the direction of his day.” 

When I'm tempted to give up because my book isn’t selling well, or when I get a rejection from an editor of a magazine, I think about those dear people who actually feel something when they read my words!

And I go back to my computer.




Tuesday, June 26, 2012

A Dream Come True

All of my life I dreamed of writing a book someday. I must admit, I only half believed it would happen. But circumstances sometimes lead us right where we want to go – and that was the case for me. I had been publishing stories and essays in the Charleston Gazette for several years when one day, it occurred to me that there were enough of them to make a nice collection. All I had to do was put them in the order I wanted them, do a bit of tweaking, add pictures, a nice cover and give it a title.

And Voila! A book was born!

It took a while to come up with a title. Family and friends helped, but nothing satisfied me. Having read somewhere that the title should actually appear inside the book, I perused the pages carefully, writing down every word and phrase that was a possibility. One of my favorite stories ended with the words; Somewhere in Heaven my mother is smiling. That became my title.

My mother had passed away seven years earlier. I included a story in the book about her death and how it affected me. There were other stories about her, as well. Somehow, it seemed right to honor her with the title of my book. 

I’ve wondered many times since if I made the right decision. I think it’s a little long. But what’s done is done. One learns as he/she goes along and if there is a second book, I’m hoping to correct some of the mistakes I made with the first one.

Others don't believe me when I say I wasn’t expecting to make a lot of money with the book, but it's true. I told my husband from the get-go that I just wanted to leave something to my children and grandchildren. I thought this was a good way to do it because there’s a lot about my early life in it, as well as stories about my children and a few about the grandchildren. I felt they’d be able to relate to it. And I hoped they'd cherish a book written by their mother – or grandmother.

No, I didn’t get any big surprises. I haven’t become rich or famous, but I have made a lot of friends that I may never have known otherwise and I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. I’ve continued to write for the Gazette and have amassed even more stories than I had before – enough to put together another collection much larger than the first.

I may do it. Numerous ideas are swimming around in my head. Better ones, perhaps. The publishing industry is changing daily. It should be easier to publish the next one. I may even try publishing via Amazon Kindle. Some claim great success in that market. Many doors are open. I simply have to choose one.

How exciting!