poo poo week

I haven’t written in a week, because I haven’t slept in a week.

Got another head cold, sinus infection, can’t smell and can’t taste. Ear infections, can’t hear, have to turn the TV up so loud my husband is pissed; so much for concern on his part. Nasal sprays, antibiotics, compresses, hot showers, works for minutes than back to shit.

Coughing fits, sore throat, can’t talk…husband loves that. After a 4am trek to the emergency room I took today off and finally slept on the couch during, Parenthood and Prancer.

Somewhere in all of this I served a Thanksgiving meal to the hoard and made turkey soup which I am taking intravenously.

I must be feeling better because now I am able to write while holding a fudge-cycle.

Editors

I just read, Betsy Lerner’s Forest for the Trees.

I should have paid more attention to sentence diagramming, punctuation and spelling. If I had, those shortcomings would not have held me back from that which I love to do, write.

Thank God, for pencils with erasers, the delete key, copy and paste, spell-check, editors and possibilities.

Just because I cannot walk does not mean I cannot run.

Dreams

If you have come this far, to this blog, obviously from another blog based on writing, than you are an amazing writer in the process of researching and learning your craft. If you have come this far then you are curious to see just who Wry Wryter is. If you have come this far, I welcome you and wish you the best of outcomes for your dreams, writing and otherwise.

I have always dreamed, but every once in a while I wonder if dreaming sets us up for disappointment; because hello…not all dreams will come true. Whoa… (Cliché alert)… back up the truck...all of mine have…almost.

Some dreams I did not let clutter my future-wants because they were so far off my heart-grid, why bother. Like the getting married dream and having children. That would never happen for me so I didn’t bother to want it because why be heartbroken over something so unlikely to happen… but it did.

Cars, houses, jobs, accomplishments, yup, I spent nights lying awake, praying and promising in the hopes that ‘the-big-guy’ would help out and he did, always. Though I may not have liked the answer to my prayers, at that moment, time and experience has shown me ‘he’ was right. I wonder if he is a she, or maybe some little green guy with a lot of cosmic power, whatever.

So…if you have come this far you most likely have dreams about writing and so do I. We are a member of a struggling group of humans whose purpose is to communicate to other humans, our thoughts, ideas, and stories. If you have come this far let me know what your dreams are. Really, I’d like to know. I won’t tell anyone… lest I jinx your ‘future-want’.

Mother nature is pissed at us

Up here in the wilds of Connecticut we have had a hell of a time as of late.
I have power, my rooms, my shower, my heart and my home are open to friends and family who need a place to warm-up, get clean and sleep a restful night.
I don't charge much, just a smile and a place in your home when I need it.

Who would have thought that the beauty of autumn leaves could become so deadly when sprinkled with snow...lots of snow.

Be thankful, you folks with running furnaces and water, I am.

Pride in Completion

Finished the final project for my memoir class; damn it’s good. Am I being cocky, hell ya. It feels right.
Like Lawrence Block said, “make every word count”. I did.

It’s a wonderful feeling when I write something I am truly proud of. That is not to say I’m not proud of everything, I am, but truly, deeply, (using every ly word I can think of) satisfied, elevates it in my mind and heart.
It’s one of those pieces…even if no one likes it…I do…even if no one wants to publish it…so what…even if I were never able to write again…it would be a piece-perfect as a last.

A project of love; a near flawless child.

Before and After

I am tackling another full draft rewrite, twelve or thirteen I think, I’ve lost count. After over a month away from my novel I am able to read best, as a reader, rather than a writer.
That I thought it was READY is kind of embarrassing because I am making it better.
I am finding, changing, adding and subtracting but, Gee, I still really like it. The characters are like family members…ah…better than some family members, more interesting anyway. It’s like visiting an old friend who like me, loves a before and after make-over.
Now the dress fits better, the hair is perfect and the shoes are comfortable.
I’m waiting for the limo. Actually, I’ll call for it when I’m done.
I am hoping, getting ready for the big dance, isn’t all my date gets to do.

Life in a Year

Tomorrow my first born is twenty-seven years old. How the hell did this happen so fast?
It seems like a year ago she graduated from college and six months ago she graduated high school.
Only a few months back she got her driver’s license and a month ago she rode the big yellow bus for the first time.
Last week she mastered riding a two wheeler and few days ago she had just learned to walk.
Yesterday she was spitting up on my shoulder.
Minutes ago I told my husband, with fear and trepidation, “Honey, I’m pregnant, again. This one we will not lose. This one will make it…and she did. This one brought us out of darkness and continues to, each and every day of her life.

Our first born will be married soon and it is within me to know, because it is her dream, a life in a year will begin for her in a wink.
Happy birthday sweetheart…you were born seconds ago.