Summer Brine

There’s salt in the air,
And butter;

The tangy brine of summer
Hangs heavy all around.

I can almost taste the sweet fresh corn,
Can almost feel the watermelon juice
Dripping down my chin.
The snap of fresh green beans
Rings loud across the yard,
An echo of summers gone,
Or maybe of summers yet to come.

There’s salt in the air,
And butter,

The tangy brine of summer,
And I am filled with joy.

(c) 2016. All rights reserved.

Camp what?

So sometime last month (I think), in a fit of enthusiasm, I signed up for Camp NaNoWriMo. It’s essentially the same as the November event, but with more flexibility regarding word counts. And cabins (hi, bunkies!). And it’s a lot of fun.

But it’s seven days into the camping season and, so far, I haven’t written a word. (I have gone actual camping, but that’s another story for another time.) As a matter of fact, I switched projects. After realizing that I wasn’t sure exactly what I was trying to do with the novel I’ve spent years tinkering with, I shifted gears and moved onto something else.

I made a decent start on a new/old story and got a little feedback that had me second-guessing pretty much every aspect of my writing life. I got similar feedback on something else, which led to third-guessing my ability to write professionally, period. Then I tried to eat my weight in chips, fiesta ranch dip, and parade candy.

Suffice it to say, it’s been a rough week. Month. Whatever.

And it seems it’s not just me having a rough time of it lately. Between Brexit and the upcoming election here in the States, it seems a little like the world is trying to tear itself apart. Yesterday I read three different posts about people being tired. And not the usual, “Oh, I had a late night,” kind of tired, either. I’m talking the kind of existential exhaustion you feel in the marrow of your bones, the kind that makes you wonder why you even bother to get out of bed in the morning, let alone face the world. The kind of weariness that tells you that dreaming is hard, and it’s just not worth the effort, and the odds of success are astronomical, so why even try?

I’ve avoided the news for months now because paying attention to it depresses me. I joke about living under a rock, but the truth is that it’s quite nice here. Then I log into Facebook, and see things about how politics are destroying friendships, and my heart hurts. I was actually nauseated a week or so ago after reading that someone I consider a good friend had been deeply hurt by someone she considered a close friend, but whose politics differed greatly from hers. I was left reeling, and it wasn’t even my friendship that had been broken.

Why can’t we all just get along? I wondered.

This post is the first thing I’ve written in some time. You see, I’ve become paralyzed by fear. And I hate it. I’ve been inspired to write before now, but the Doubt Monster always crept in, whispering fearsome things and stilling my pen, relaxing my fingers. Doubt is a slimy, scaly beast, and I’m tired of tangling with him. Fear is his even uglier bosom buddy, and I’ve had it with him, too.

So this is me, trying to rid myself of the Ugly Twins, trying to break free of the paralysis. The silence round these parts will likely continue for a while, but I hope it won’t be quite as quiet as it has been lately. If I’m still, I can almost feel the fire stirring inside me again, the fire to write, to live, to be instead of to do. My embers are slowly warming, and one day soon, a crackling blaze will light my blog again.

In the meantime, though, the coals are perfect for s’mores…

How is summer treating you?

(c) 2016. All rights reserved.

Hungover…again

To ease the lingering symptoms of my book hangover, today I want to share my thoughts on Reaping Angel, the second book in S.L. Saboviec’s Fallen Redemption series. I read this book even faster than I read the first one, and I find myself wanting to reread it already, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. The plot definitely thickens in this book; by the end of it, I wasn’t sure who to trust.

But I’m getting ahead of myself…

Adventure time!

Can you believe June is half gone already? It seems to me like school just ended. Hard to believe that was two weeks ago already. At this rate, my little Cricket bug will be heading off to kindergarten before I know it!

*counts weeks left of summer*

Only ten weeks left. That’s not nearly enough summer!😀

I had great plans for this summer. Plans for writing and querying. Plans for camping and adventure. Plans for fun. But after a spring filled with revisions left me sapped of my writerly mojo, I haven’t written a word in weeks. So what have I been doing?

Well, I have been camping. Twice, even. We had an adventure at the campground pond this past weekend, and an adventure in an antique store on our first camping trip. Said antique store had a calligraphy set, complete with a pen, four nibs, ink, and instructions for several different calligraphy styles, for only a dollar. I’ve taken up the pen a couple of times, but with less-than-stellar results. I can’t wait till I have more than a half hour at the very end of a long day to get in some practice.:)

I’ve listened to birds singing, cats fighting, and thunder crashing. I’ve seen roads washed out and rivers raging. And I’ve read a couple of fantastic books.

Yes, books. Glorious, wonderful books.

I’ve always got something to read with me, but it’s been a while since that something was a book. And not just one book – two books! I’ve read two books in the last two weeks, and it’s been a very long time since that happened last.

Oh, you want to know which books I’ve been reading? Very well, then… (Please be warned: mild spoilers lie ahead.):)

Nothing – or something?

I’ve got nothing.

For the last few weeks, every time I sit down to write a post, my mind goes blank. As white as the screen at which I’m staring.

For the last few weeks, every time I sit down to work on revisions, my mind goes blank. As white as the pages I’d hoped to fill.

I’ve got nothing.

When my husband asks what I’m thinking, I say, “Nothing.”

And it’s true.

I’ve got nothing.

I sit and stare into space as seconds become minutes become hours become days. Not a thought flickers in my mind as I watch dust bunnies frolic in the sun streaming through my window. Everything I want to say, all the stories I want to tell, all the characters I want to bring to life – they yell and scream and clamor for attention, but all I hear is the dull insect drone of a thousand voices talking at once, and even that finally fades away into silence.

And I’ve got nothing.

I’ve got nothing but hopes and dreams and an ever-growing to-do list. I’ve got nothing but a sense of time wasted and a never-ending headache from all the things I’ve left undone. I’ve got nothing but apologies for my family and my readers and my friends.

I want to have it all.

But instead, I’ve got nothing.

Something tells me I will never have it all, despite what I see on TV every day. Something tells me it’s not possible to have it all, despite what I see on TV every day. Something tells me I’ll stop wanting to have it all, because of what I see on TV every day.

So instead, I’ll focus on having something instead of nothing. Because what I’ve got is plenty. And this zombie state will pass. Eventually.

Right?

Right.

But until it does, the posts here may be few and far between. Don’t worry, though – I’ll be back soon. I love blogging too much to let this place go quietly into the dark of night, especially when the light of day is so warm and inviting.:)

In the meantime, how have you been lately? Tell me about everything going on with you – I may not have much to say, but I’ve got plenty of time for listening!

(c) 2016. All rights reserved.