I don’t know how much about my life with breast cancer I want to blog about. But I’ve started an FB page to share this experience for what it’s worth. The FB page feels more conversational and more immediate. But the page isn’t for everyone. The blog format isn’t really working for me on this.
Anyway.
Click through and like if it’s a conversation you’re interested in: A Journey through the Carcinoma Wonderland.
Thanks.
my art
Today a new friend in my life puts her heart out into the world. Her heart should be lifted up and celebrated.
Well, perhaps every heart should be.
Forgive the potential sappiness. But sometimes sappiness is okay. We don’t have to be all edges and armor every day of the week.
(Anyway, I don’t know why black holes exist in space any more than I know why black holes exist in some human hearts, but those lost souls–the ones that suck in and destroy everything that comes too close are a problem for another day.)
As I was saying, the determined and caring Niamh Clune, author and founder of Plum Tree Books, is putting out a very heart-filled project today. Niamh has a great deal of personal experience with the drought and troubles in the Sahel in Africa.
You can find out more about events here and even more about the work Niamh is doing on The Plum Tree Blog.
Art is part of the solution too. Plum Tree is hosting an art auction–and one piece of mine is included along with several other beautiful pieces (I’d buy the Geisha right now if I could). The auction is the 16th.
And then there is music. A live radio show by the talented Claudio Fiore will be (is) in progress to support the auction and the book. Music is available to buy as well.
Oh. And the book. The book!! A book of poetry, stories, essays, and art is for sale. Song of Sahel. My art is in the book and a poem. Well, a sort of poem. A few tiny words to go with the art.
The proceeds go to help the people of the Sahel. Niamh has written more movingly (and knowledgeably) than I can, so if you go to the blog or the Plum Tree site, you can read the history and about the organizations that are helping in the region. Or if you have any questions, please ask.
Niamh has put heart and effort into this project. It’s an important cause and maybe you could do something to help. At the very least, share the word. The more people that know, the better.
Wow. I hope I covered everything.
Thank you!
from Plum Tree Books
My publisher has a passion. You see that passion in what Plum Tree supports. Soon, Plum Tree will put out a book and hold an art auction to raise money to help people in Sahel. Where is the Sahel? Here.
A piece of my art is part of the auction, too.
I know that many places in the world need, but we’ve got to start somewhere. Like the parable of the starfish, Sahel is another starfish.
An old man had a habit of early morning walks on the beach. One day, after a storm, he saw a human figure in the distance moving like a dancer. As he came closer he saw that it was a young woman and she was not dancing but was reaching down to the sand, picking up a starfish and very gently throwing them into the ocean.
“Young lady,” he asked, “Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?”
“The sun is up, and the tide is going out, and if I do not throw them in they will die.”
“But young lady, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it? You cannot possibly make a difference.”
The young woman listened politely, paused and then bent down, picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves,saying, “It made a difference for that one.”
The old man looked at the young woman inquisitively and thought about what she had done. Inspired, he joined her in throwing starfish back into the sea. Soon others joined, and all the starfish were saved. –Wikipedia
Why not begin by helping save this starfish? Every starfish matters.
Plum Tree is my publisher, and I want Plum Tree to succeed, and I want what the Plum Tree supports to succeed. That includes good causes and that includes me.
This is where the self-sabotage comes in. I want to do enough to support others and support myself. Fear of bothering others, of getting it wrong, of failing, helps me procrastinate on what I need to do.
Fear. Procrastination’s best friend.
That nagging feeling that I’m not doing enough manages to keep me from doing anything except to make excuses. Why is there always time to make excuses and no time to do anything constructive?
Now, I’ve got a novel to edit and an art show to prepare for.
You can follow these endeavors on my facebook page.
What helps you procrastinate?
Do you know when you’ve gotten better at writing?
I don’t.
Sure, if you’re published you could look at sale numbers, but that’s not he same thing as getting better. That’s getting more popular.
my skates
Anyway, three days a week I go to quad speed skate practice. I used to be one the slowest. Well, the coach doesn’t say slow. We line up fast-to-fastest.
Recently I got to move in the line to closer to the middle. The other night, a skater who used to pass me couldn’t.
I was so happy. Such a feeling–a year of three-days-a-week practice, and now I’m faster. I can feel it. Others can see it. I hit the curves and feel happy.
Next year I’ll compete in Nationals. I doubt I can beat women who’ve been skating for years, but it will be an experience. Over 40 and competing in Nationals!
Writing though…I write and write and write…am I better? Must be. Right?
How do you measure that? How can you see it?
And what do you do in life in which you can measure your progress?
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don’t stay in the cup
Sometimes the mind just brims over with ideas. Do you ever have trouble deciding what to focus on or what to pursue?
I’m going to pursue as many as I can.
One is the idea of a princess detective. I want to try to write a princess that isn’t what most people think. I’m writing about her over at The Fairy Tale Asylum.
Another idea goes back to my love of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks and Agent Dale Cooper. Cooper is one of my most favorite characters on television ever. Twice readers have said that my writing reminded them of Twin Peaks! I don’t know why since I don’t have a murder nor do I write about the northwest, logging, or the FBI–but my character do drink a lot of coffee.
Anyway, I’ve started another blog for a character in love with Agent Dale Cooper and determined to find him in the real world. For her travels and travails, read searching for Agent Dale Cooper. If you want to help her find her man, feel free to leave a comment.
I’ve got an art show coming in October as well. Projects will be posted over at Words Are Art.
And finally, there is always facebook.
What projects are you juggling in life?
part of a commissioned piece
In case you have somehow escaped me telling you, I have found a publisher.
This press is small and new and in the UK. Since it was a UK literary journal that published my first short story and the BBC is my favorite channel, a British publisher makes sense really. Don’t you think?
The name of the press is Plum Tree Books.
And no, they aren’t one of the Big Six, but I was never going to find a home with them. This press has enthusiasm and vision for my writing, and I feel as if I will be taken care of, not forgotten and sent straight to remainders.
But this is a new world–being able to say I’ve a publisher. Feels impossible to say.
So, I’ve started a facebook author page, and am figuring out what’s next–oh, yeah. EDITS.
I don’t know what will happen (who does), but I’m glad to travel different waters. Thank you to everyone who’s still with me.
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P.S. On a side note, I’ve started an online series–The Princess Detective. (For the reader who likes stories of princesses pursuing danger.)
Former high school friends find me on facebook. This happens to everyone who ventures onto fb-land. Maybe this makes you happy.
Most of the people who “friend” me, are nice people. They never did me any particular harm back in school. In some ways, catching up on their lives is good.
But here is the thing. I didn’t lose touch with most of them. No. Lose sounds so accidental, doesn’t it? Well, when I was 2 months away from turning 18, I packed my bags, got on a plane, and looked back reluctantly. I stayed in touch with one friend. One. We’ve stayed in touch for 20 years because she means an entire world to me.
Everyone else, no matter how nice they are, just reminds me of those high school years.
Did you like high school? I don’t understand people who liked high school. I’m 42, and still, to this day, when in my hometown I feel pressure on my chest, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m going to be unable to leave. This irrational fear lurks in my mind that one day, no matter how far I go, I will end up back there. In which I shall go mad and drink myself to death.
But my hometown helped make me the writer I am today. So. Make of that what you will. I’m reading If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland. So far, so good. She mentions how our personalities are reflected in our writing.
A college friend has a published novel out,(you should read it!), and she mentioned to me how readers would come up to her at different events and talk to her as if they knew her. She, of course, didn’t know the first thing about them. But they felt they knew her because they’d read her book.
Last night I was looking over three stories I’d written, and the mothers in these stories are all horrible. They do terrible things to their children in one way or another. I do not think this means I hate my mother…but should I ever be a successful writer, there is a future college paper that says I do.
If someone read only my fiction, what kind of person would they think me to be? Who are you in your writing? Is it possible to even tell?
Is it just more self-obsession or part of the struggle to understand the self?
