Things I love: II

The most important love object in my life:

The Charming Man, here with my Charming Mother in Law.

Well, I'm home.

It's been a poignant couple of weeks. There has been a lot of crying, hugging, and sharing but still, I am incredibly fatigued and numb. So yeah, no writing going on.

In addition to the loss of my grandmother, I learned that my family of birth doesn't read my blog. It didn't surprise me - I've always been the oddball of the bunch (and that's pretty darn odd, considering our bunch). But it did sting.

I'm trying to soothe that sting. The best thing I've come up with is that I am free to say whatever the hell I want here. I could write about my intimate secrets - well, ok, not that I *want* to say that much about my private life, but I *could*!

My grandmother believed in me. The Charming Man and my family of choice believes in me. And that goes a long way towards making the world a better place.

Death and other realities

My maternal grandmother passed away early this morning.  She was 94.

This is the second death for The Charming Man and I in one month.

I'm numb with grief. My grandmother gave me my love of history and my love of writing. She was the only one who seemed happy that I chose history as my major and pursued that love to an MA. She was the one who inspired me to study the Ancient World and the Middle East. She also gave me my love of romantic stories.

Everything that swirls around a death - the rituals, the services, the pain, the bizarre family in-jokes, the potential for the eruption of uncomfortable truths - creates a sense of drama and mystery. Life is sharper, fiercer, and more precious than ever.

Someday, I will write a gentle, historical romance story for her.

Thank you, Grandma, for loving me. You never gave up on me.

Death in the Family

The Charming Man's step-father died yesterday from cancer. Things are going to be complicated for a few days.

Dinner with The Flaming Chef and Dr. Snickerdoodle

The Flaming Chef (whose witty and politically aware blog is sadly on hiatus) is another writer trying to make his way in the world. He is working on a brilliant and funny memoir of being a gay man in the macho, intolerant atmosphere of the food industry.

We try to get together once a week to encourage each other and write together. Then The Flaming Chef will cook something spectacular and The Charming Man, Dr. Snickerdoodle (TFC's gorgeous husband), and I will eat like crazed cavemen.

Here is one meal he created last month.

Baguette and butter for a starter, followed by:

Salad made with avocado, tomato, olive oil, salt, lemon, and baby lettuces.

Yum, yum, yummy wine from Vino Vixens wine shop

Langostines  sauteed in butter, olive oil, shallots, and parsley!

 

 

And, finally, an amazing baked salmon to top it off.

You should have been there!

Ick.

I have managed some sort of throat/upper chest infection, with a dry, hacking cough that really really sucks. I've got my cough syrup with codeine, and I'm going to bed.

Traveling!

I'm visiting my family this week! The plan is to jot as many notes as I can, write when I can, and smile a lot.

Embrace your Beloved.

Last night, my paternal grandmother died. She was 93.

Grab someone (heck, it can be your pet!) you love and give them a long hug. Then go celebrate something together.

Embrace life. It is the reason we write. And it's the best way to mourn a loss.

No fear?

A dear friend of mine has characters and stories roaming her head. She wants, no, yearns to write.

Just like the rest of us, she is frightened.

Writing is scary stuff. Let's list a few of the things that can scare someone.

1. Rejection by publishers.
2. Rejection by agents.
3. Rejection by friends and family.
4. The possibility that you really DO suck.
5. The possibility that you might learn something about yourself that you didn't want to know. (I was pretty surprised that I wrote vampire stories. I wanted to write screw-ball comedies).
6. Bad reviews.
7. Good reviews.
8. Not getting published which leads to...
   
9. Feeling like you've wasted your time.
10. Not making money.

Not too shabby for about five minutes of thinking on what scares me, eh?

These fears are real. They stop people in their tracks every day. They even stop me from time to time.

I have no easy answers about how to not be afraid. In fact, these fears are important. You have to look at them and say, "Well. What if I do suck? What if my work does gets rejected from now until the end of time?"

The payoff might not be worth the pain. If so, then congratulate yourself, and realize that there are many other dreams waiting for you! Maybe you will find fulfillment in improv comedy or Linux open-source work.

Make your fears work for you.

NaBlogWriMo?

Last night, a friend of mine challenged me to National Blog Writing Month. Better late than never, I say.

So, a few days into November, I will now attempt to write a blog entry every day.

*bites nails*

For my first entry, here is something I found online (but with no attribution, so if you know who wrote this, let me know!!)

How to feel miserable as an artist
(or, what not to do. Underline any that currently apply)

1. Constantly compare yourself to other artists
2. Talk to your family about what you do and expect them to cheer you on.
3. Base the success of your entire career on one project.
4. Stick with what you know.
5. Undervalue your expertise.
6. Let money dictate what you do.
7. Bow to societal pressures.
8. Only do what your family would love.
9. Do whatever the client/customer/gallery owner/patron/investor asks.
   
10. Set unachievable/overwhelming goals. To be accomplished by tomorrow.

What do you fall into? I'm a sucker for #1, 2, 3, 5, and 10. Especially 1 and 10 together.

Can't you just hear it?

"Jayne Ann Krentz puts out how many books a year?! I'd better get seventy-five pages in by tomorrow!!

Yep. Works every time, let me tell you.

The many gifts of sorrow, or Guess Who Reads Romance?

My maternal grandmother is in the hospital. Last week, I flew half-way across the continent to be with her, and things were not looking good.

So I decided to tell her that I was writing romance and not anything sweet, either. I had been worried she would disapprove.

She held my hand and said, in her tiny, halting voice, "I love you because you're you. I know there are lots of different books out there."

Cue huge crying jag here.

I am staying with my father who lives very close to that hospital. It's fair to say that he and I have had differences of opinion. I had feared telling him and my step-mother than I was writing romance.

My Dad is a PhD. in chemistry and my step-mom an MA in mathematics. I remember lots of very intellectual books in our house. So I was not going to let them know I was writing genre fiction.

Until I saw a Linda Howard title on the counter.

Which I found out they both were reading.

So I told them.

Now my parents are very busy giving me ideas for new novels!

In the middle of fear and worry, beauty and harmony can grow.