I haven’t been writing, and I miss it.
I’ve watched TV. I’ve read blogs. I’ve come up with a thousand brilliant ideas that quickly vanished into the ether. I’ve played a lot of Pokémon Go (Go Team Mystic!).
But I haven’t been writing, and it’s left a void.
Getting back in the habit is…
Ah, books. Glorious books! Wonderful books! How I love thee! 🙂
Yep, I’ve been reading again. This time, my literary obsession is The Impending Possession of Scarlet Wakebridge-Rosé by S.L. Saboviec. It’s a stand-alone novel from the same universe as Guarding Angel and Reaping Angel, and it was the perfect way to whet my appetite for the next book in the Fallen Redemption series.
Wow, so that’s a lot of titles right there. A person could be confused by all that, I suppose, so allow me to tell you what this book is all about …behind the cut!
Identity is a tricky thing, always changing. Identity can shift at a moment’s notice, or over a span of years. I think back on all the things I am and all the things I’ve been. I wonder about all the things I’ll someday be, or if I’ll be able to reclaim the girl I was back when.
I’m a mother, I’m a lover,
A chef, a referee,
I’m a doctor and a chauffeur seven days a week.
Back when I knew it all, I was going to be a famous writer before I turned thirty. I’d be critically acclaimed and make a fortune and not need a day job. I’d work as a medical transcriptionist for a few years, until I hit it big, and then I’d quit the day job to write for a living.
It’s the hardest gig I’ve known,
I work my fingers to the bone.
Yeah, the dishes and the diapers never stop.
Lousy pay,
There ain’t no 401(k).
I know this may come as a shock,
But this here’s a full-time job.
Back when I knew it all, I was going to…
It’s always the quiet ones.
You know, the ones you have to watch out for. The quiet ones blend into the background. They do a good job of it, too – they’re quiet, after all, and it’s the squeaky wheel that gets the grease, not the silent one.
Not the timid girl in the corner desk.
Maybe you don’t even notice. Maybe you never heard her heart screaming her frustration, or begging for a kind word. Maybe you did, but you don’t care.
Maybe she didn’t want you to, but maybe she did. What if she did?
Maybe she wears neutral colors because she’s afraid of loud noises. Maybe she’s afraid to be loud, to draw attention to herself because attention means she’d have to open up to others. Maybe the last time she came out of her shell, it was crushed by the person she trusted most in the world, and she had to find a new shell, a harder shell, to protect her fragile self.
Sometimes the squeaky wheel doesn’t need the grease – sometimes it just needs someone to listen. Grease will silence the squeak, but maybe that’s not the point. Maybe the point is for someone to notice the wheel behind the squeak.
Maybe the squeak isn’t something wrong, but something right.
Maybe it means that that timid girl is trying out her voice, trying it on for size. Maybe that little, tiny squeak is really incredibly loud, and she’s trying to figure out how to modulate her volume. Wouldn’t you feel terrible for silencing that squeak?
Because that’s what the grease does. It quiets the squeak.
It’s always the quiet ones.
(c) 2016. All rights reserved.
And now, a snippet of something that’s been eating away at my brain for the last month:
Fog hangs low in the valley, hugging the hills and kissing the trees, while the corn whispers in the fields beyond. Birds perch warily on the power lines, watching, waiting, and even the crickets have ceased their singing. The air is thick with anticipation, as if every living thing is holding its breath.
Such mornings are not uncommon as summer gives way to fall, but something is different this morning. This is an uncommon morning.
The words of an old song drift through my head as I slice through the fog with my high beams. La nuit m’a oubliée…Pourtant…je suis toujours là…Je suis toujours là…
The night may have forgotten, but I certainly haven’t, I think as I pass his house. I keep my eyes on the road, trying to forget the way he used to hug me, the kisses that used to linger on my skin long into the night after he’d gone. But it’s no use.
I can’t forget, though I would dearly like to.
Thanks to Jane Dougherty for the words of inspiration!
(c) 2016. All rights reserved.
Today, I send my darling baby boy out into the big, wide world. Next year his little brother, Thumper, will follow him, but I don’t want to think about that just yet. For now, I’m just trying to get through today…
Dearest Cricket,
I cannot believe you’re starting kindergarten today. It seems like only yesterday that we brought you home from the hospital, home to the proudest big brother and sister this family has ever seen. It seems like only yesterday that you started walking, started talking, started sleeping through the night.
It seems like only yesterday, but of course, it wasn’t.
It was six years, one month, and twenty-six days ago. Hardly yesterday, and yet it doesn’t seem like it was so very long ago. How the time flies!
You looked so grown up this morning as you headed out the door in your new school clothes. Your rockin’ Ninja Turtle backpack looked almost as big as you as we walked down the driveway to meet the bus, and your hand in mine felt so very small.
But I know you’ll be fine. You’re in good hands. You have a fantastic teacher and a wonderful school, and I know you’ll have fun. I know you’ll talk my ear off when I pick you up tonight. I hope you’ll stay excited about school, because today is the first of many first days for you, my boy, and I hope they’ll all be as much fun as this day. I hope you’ll make lots of new friends, the kind that will stay with you for thick and thin through the rest of your life.
Most of all, I hope you’ll never forget that no matter how old you are, you will always be my little Cricket. I love you, buddy.
Love,
Mommy
How did you handle your kids leaving for school?
(c) 2016. All rights reserved.
Welcome to the cover reveal for S. L. Saboviec’s The Impending Possession of Scarlet Wakebridge-Rosé, an urban fantasy stand-alone novel set in the world of her Fallen Redemption books. But that’s not all — after you check out the cover, stay tuned for details on how to enter an epic giveaway of a $1,200 Amazon gift card!
The cover for The Impending Possession of Scarlet Wakebridge-Rosé is by Clarissa of Yocla Designs, and you’re going to love it. I know I do! 🙂
But before we get to all that, what is the book all about? Keep reading…
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.
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.
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.) 🙂
Suddenly they all died. The end. 