The Paradigm of the Typewriter

The typewriter on the shelf was a closeout deal. The office supply store was getting rid of old stock –and this old behemoth, no one wanted. It called out to the middle-aged, women. Choices must be made. An typewriter for 99 dollars and some change, (ink ribbons included) or that brand new laser jet ink package for a whopping 209 dollars –plus tax –something, a working mother and struggling writer, could little afford.

She was reminded where her love of writing began. When she was no more that five years of age, she began writing her stories. Her first written books were about the Valley River people. People that came from all walks of life. One woman that came from Japan and wore beautiful Kimonos, so everyone thought that she was a princess from a far off land. They couldn’t be more wrong.

Then there was a man, that lived in a nursing home because he had Parkinson’s disease. He had a wheelchair that allowed him more mobility because he was unable to walk steadily.

Of course there was the Valley River girl, from a far off land that wrote stories, had big dreams, and loved to illustrate all the books she wrote. That girl was me.

She held on, to all her notebooks and the first play she ever wrote. It was about a girl that would rather write than do her chores. She got mad and left home because she didn’t have enough time (or paper to write.)

She looked back at the old typewriter next to her desk and woke up in her bedroom, knowing that the typewriter that had been a closeout deal at the store was really all a dream.

Next to her desk, sat the typewriter she wrote all her first stories on. This was her Grandmother’s typewriter. The one that inspired, on which she cried over, because a lost dream had been realized each morning she woke up and saw it sitting next to her desk.

All that time she knew who she was. She had always been a writer.

‘Thirty years of age– that’s not a bad place to start,’ she thought.

–And so she promised herself after many failures, this year she would try and would succeed. That dream and her family –the sense of the community that the Valley River people had– was perhaps the only thing that truly mattered to her now, as much as it had when she was a little girl.

The paradigm of the typewriter had finally been realized.

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NaNoWrMo- Things I have Learned

So as NaNoWrMo is coming to a close, I thought I would share with you the things that I have learned from it. The good, the bad and the Ugly.

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THE NANOWRIMO EXPERIENCE

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THE GOOD

  1. It has encouraged me to continue to write, even when I do not particularly feel inspired.
  2. I have learned that planning and outlining is beneficial to me, especially since it is hard for me to focus on one topic, since I have Attention Deficit disorder.
  3. I have learned I must set aside time daily for myself to write, even if it is only fifteen minutes.

THE BAD

  1. You cannot put a word count on your ideas. Sometimes a book may be written in less that 50,000. I think that when you place emphasis on word count, instead of creating a plot and concept, you sacrifice quality for quantity.
  2. It is hard to reach a goal of completing a entire novel of 50,000 words or more in only a month but it is sure fun to try. (That could either be good or bad.)
  3. It is hard to get past the roadblock of thinking that you cannot do this. Remember, If you don’t meet your goal at least you tried and you still wrote something!

THE UGLY

  • I got done with the first rough draft. That is always an Ugly mess, until you go through it several times with a fine tooth comb, and then have others go through it for you.
  • I did not, and will not meet the goal of 50,000 words, because my project does not fit,what is considered a typical novel. (That could be Good, bad or Ugly, depending on the way you look at it.)

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Most importantly I learned how to set goals for myself, my novel did not turn out at all how I expected, but I finally found a place that I could put all my ideas into, and I will be outlining it for you in subsequent posts.

 

 

Love Birds Cry

I found some old poetry I wrote. I wrote this while I was in an abusive relationship that lasted on and off for seven years. I wrote this shortly before I left the abuser and found my husband. I guess when you pray real hard and hope that Mr. Right is out there, you find him. For all those women that are in an abusive relationship. I once was you. Please let go. There is a better person waiting out there for you.

Love Birds Cry
I’m like a bird that crys for help,
with no one to save me.
I’m exotic.
I’m used and abused,
then throwen away when I am no longer useful anymore.
I’m a rare and beautiful sight to behold,
but not something that can be loved and adored.
I’m shot at,
day after day because some man wants me for his trophy case.
Then I fly away.
Someday.
Someday soon,
some beautiful love bird will catch me.
Someone that will love and adore me,
cherish and hold me.
Forever and always.
The men that hurt me,
will fade slowly,
untill they disappear.
Into the forest.
A dark forest filled with nothing but
pain, hurt, loneliness, that will last forever.
As I am living my beautiful dream.
With a love that will last an eternity.

The Birth of a Father

   Becoming a Father is a series of miraculous events. The father expectantly waits for the arrival of a child. Expectantly means watchfully waiting. Fathers are watchfully waiting from the very moment that baby is conceived. They are watching creation take place right before their eyes. Fathers are waiting for life to happen. Then it does. Out of love, life is born. This is one of the most important events in a mans life.

The Father becomes expectant again. He is watchfully waiting. He is watching his child grow, waiting for them to take their first step, waiting for their first birthday, graduate high school, and then college. Then they meet someone. Someone they want to spend the rest of their life with. They begin waiting for the marriage of their daughter.

My Father who I have always called Dad is singing a beautiful song “Borning Cry.” He sang it right before he came to walk me down the aisle. I hear him cry as he sings the last line “to see your life unfold.” I start to cry too. This was the same song he sang at my Baptism. The day I was born to the Father in heaven. The doors open and My Father and I walk into the sanctuary. He gives me to my Husband.

My Husband is expectantly waiting too. As I am standing at the Alter, my little son is kicking the inside of my stomach wildly. I am six moths pregnant now, He can probably feel how nervous I am. As we say our vows, my Husband starts to tear up. Then we are made Husband and wife. We are made a family.

At the reception my Father and I dance. I notice my father is starting to look older, he now has gray hair. I had never noticed it before. Probably because he is my Dad. When we are younger we think our Dads will always be here. So we never see they are ageing. Then I am scared. I  don’t want to ever have to live without him. He is one of the first people who ever held me. One of the first people that loved me. I love him. I am thankful my Dad is still here. That he is able to share this special moment with me.

A few months later, My Husband and My Father are expectantly waiting. My Husband, the birth of His First Child. My Father, the birth of his First Grandchild. He was two weeks overdue, so I was induced. After 77 and 1/2  hours of labor, his head started to crown. My Husband started to shout excitedly “He has a full head of hair! Oh my God this is so cool! Push…!! Pushpushpush!” My Dad and My Father-In-Law were listening to all of this happen, downstairs from a cell phone that was on next to me on a bedside table. After a half hour of pushing He was born.

Expectantness begins again. This time it is my Husband. He is watchfully waiting for his son to grow up.

Life is a series of events where Fathers are Expectant. They watchfully wait, for the culmination of an event to happen. They reinvent themselves, and are born all over again.

I thank My Dad and My Husband for always being Expectant Fathers, and to all other Fathers that are Expectantly waiting.

A Wise Man

   A wise man once told me to fight like hell, follow your dreams, and never give up. That wise man was my Grandfather. I miss him very much. He always gave me good advice. Some of that advice I didn’t understand tell I was much older.

Things My Grandfather Told Me

1. Never Go to Bed or Leave Angry-
My Grandfather got into an argument with his only son. That was the last time he saw him. The next time he saw his Son he was in a coffin.
My Mother and I got into a fight before she left for work. She was in a nearly fatal accident. I am glad she was ok so I could tell her how much I loved her, and that I was sorry.

2. Do What Makes You Happy-
I was a teenager that was easily influenced by others around me. My Grandfather told me I needed to do what made me happy. Not what made everyone else happy.
My Grandfather did what everyone else told him. He went to college. He failed miserably. Then he did what he really loved even though his parents told him he would always be a cripple. (He had a bad hand.) He built race cars and built and restored airplanes. He even restored Wacos for the Smithsonian!
Here I am, a few years later. I am reading a great book. I always loved to read and write. I have regrets that I did not pursue a career in writing. I did not pursue my dream because everyone told me it would never make me money. Well you know what? What I am doing right now, is not making me a great deal of money anyways!

3. There is Only One Person for Everyone. Soulmates Do Exist.
  My Grandfather said my Grandmother was his one and only soul mate. After she died, he tried dating many other women. He was even married a second time. (It didn’t last) He truly believed she was the only women ment for him. He said with the other women it was just never the same. My Grandfather told me he knew there was a soulmate waiting out there for me too.
I thought he was crazy. Then I met my Husband. I realized my Grandfather wasn’t so crazy after all. My Husband is my one and only true Soulmate.

4. When you accomplish all you set out to do, you no longer have fear. You make peace. And if you die, you are ok with that.
I’m still working on this one!

What inspiring advice did your Grandparents give you? How has it changed your life?

 

Laughs, Giggles and Playtime!

My husband was getting ready to leave for work tonight. My son looks at him and pulls at his scrub top, and he begins to giggle and squeal. I don’t think he wants Daddy to leave. I don’t either.

I look at my Husband. This man who works many sixteen hour days. A man I love and have great respect and tenderness for. I wish he would be able to work less and spend more time with us. He is doing what he can to provide for his family. It is also a reminder of why I must write.
He encourages me, and reads everything I write. My Husband is my biggest fan. (I call him my editor, because he reads over my shoulder and makes me aware of what needs to be revised.) I hope someday I will be able to make enough money from one of my books. Enough so we can have more laughing, giggling, and more playtime as a family. I write out of love.

For all those naysayers out there…

I am currently working on writing a book. I am looking into getting it published in the near future. I have always wanted to write a book…purely because, I get enjoyment out of writing. It is therapeutic to me. I was reminded of today of why I write. For all those naysayers out there that say I can’t. For all the times I have been rejected. For all the people who tell me I will never to be able to make a living with my creativity. For all those people that say I can’t.

My work is worth more than $11.75 an hour. It is worth sharing. It is worth sharing for all those people who care. It is worth sharing so people know they are never alone in their journey. Worth sharing so people have hope. Maybe it will inspire someone else, to share their beauty, knowledge, and creativity.

Then I am reminded why I gave up my dreams at such an early age. Because of the naysayers out there that told me I couldn’t follow them. They told me my dreams wouldn’t make me any money. Well, neither is what im doing now. What have I got to lose? For all those naysayers out there my dreams are worth more than $11.75 an hour. I’m going to follow them, fight like hell. I am not giving up.

IV. Chasing Dreams- What the hell is this supposed to mean?

   I thought nothing of the episode of food poising that I had. The next morning it happened. I felt fine. “This is strange!” I thought. Then it began to add up. “OMG! Maybe? Could it be!?” I grabbed my keys and was out the door as quickly as my feet would carry me.

I ran down the aisle when I got to Giant Eagle.  I grabbed the first box of pregnancy tests I found. I felt nervous and giddy as the cashier rung them up. I raced home to the bathroom where I would wait on my final results.

Those moments when you are waiting for the results to appear on the window are the hardest. I saw the result. Now I had to figure out how to tell my boyfriend.

It was the moment of truth… I handed him the test. He said, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I said, “You see those two lines on the strip? That means I’m pregnant!” He smiled and we kissed. Our long lost dream had manifested itself. Don’t give up hope. Not yet… Not yet…

II. Chasing Dreams- Infertility

   It hit me like a box of rocks, and it hurt. It really hurt! I sat there, on the couch looking at my one and only soul mate. I burst into tears. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “Today, at the Doctor’s appointment they told me I couldn’t have children.” I sobbed even harder. He hugged me. We were chasing our dreams. Our every hope and dream of a family now gone. My other half did all he could do. Reassure me that he loved me.
I told him I felt like less of a women. “A woman that can’t produce childeren! What the hell kind of women is that!” He kissed me and listened to me. Then he told me he loved me, and it didn’t make me any less of a woman. He said we would travel just me and him all over the world. We could do things that people with children could not do. That dream of having a family was just a pipe dream. Now…Back to reality. We were chasing a different dream. The only dream we had left.