I've missed you. You might think I've forgotten, but I haven't. I don't intend to neglect. Things get busy and things are forgotten. For moments or days, but not forever. I'll catch you up a little.
First, the Wigleaf Top 50 Short Fictions 2013 came out and Corium has two stories in the top 50!! And one on the longlist! And I have two on the longlist (this one and this one), which makes me happy, but not as much as the ones for Corium, because people let me publish amazing stories there that other people read and love. And I would love to be in the top 50. Every year, I hope, but this was a good year all around. Wigleaf is awesome. If you don't read it, you should go read it now.
This weekend was very busy. I saw lots of friends. I went to a cool thing on Friday night where a bunch of writers got together and read stuff in progress, but there were too many people to really give/get much feedback. I did meet some nice new friends and left my usual Friday routine of too tired to do anything. On Saturday, I did some stuff that was fun, and was supposed to go to a reading, but fell asleep and had the best nap ever. That kind where you sleep so hard no dreams can get through and you really just want no dreams to get through. And you wake up feeling truly rested.
Today, I had brunch with a friend and went to this thing called a clothing swap at a friend's place. I did not know what this was until I started going to hers so I will tell you what it is, just in case. A bunch of girls get together and bring stuff they don't wear anymore, or are tired of or whatever, and everyone tries on stuff and ends up taking stuff home that is different than what they brought. And I had every intention of not bringing anything home, but I got 4 dresses and a short-sleeved cashmere sweater and some stuff to work out in so maybe I will work out a little more. Less than I brought but way more than I intended to take. I sort of had a feeling I wouldn't be able to resist. But I didn't spend any money. So there's that.
So, after the swap, I went to Target to busy some frozen meals that I live on and Lean Cuisines and Weight Watchers meals were way on sale, so I loaded up and the cashier asked if I was trying to lose weight and I got a little like - is he calling me fat?? - inside, but he meant well. And I'm not trying to gain weight. So I said umm hmmm and yes and for sure and the like while he went on about how hard it is to lose weight and how it's hard to exercise and I really just wanted to not sit there and think about the fact that it's tough to take off the weight I put on after the bad stuff happened in the old apartment and how I didn't really want him to comment on the contents of my cart. And then I got over it pretty quickly and came home and had to pretty much become a physicist to get all the frozen meals into my freezer. So, I think really the dude had probably just never seen anyone buy that many frozen diet meals and I thought back kindly on our exchange.
What else? I got nothing. My short-term memory has abandoned me for the moment. It will come back and I will tell you everything. The edited version. I may tell a lot, but not all. I am a big fan of people. I am a more realistic fan of people than I have been in the past. Which allows me to like people more. Which maybe allows people to like me more. And now I am into the rambly portion of the post, so I will say good night, people. Thanks for coming by.
Postscript: I hate myself. I was about to post this and just had a feeling that I didn't know where my keys were and that, if I looked, they would not be on the hook where I make myself put them. And I looked and they weren't. And I opened the door and they were there. Where anybody could take them or use them. And I am careless and I can't believe I would do such a thing and I hate myself because that is the best thing to do to make myself never do that again. But I still like you.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Sunday, April 7, 2013
dangerous
So, I did this reading the other night and met someone who was interested in my writing. Or who I encouraged to be interested in my writing. I don't recall. Anyways, when either one of these things happens, I refer said person to my blog, as I have that list to the left with links to some of my online stuff. And then I said something about not telling many people about my blog. And this other guy I was talking to who is kind of a friend said something like why do I even have a blog if I don't tell people about it. And he sometimes says vague and/or confusing things, but this thing made sense.
Why do I not tell people about my blog? Probably because I'm pretty honest here (when I'm not being vague and/or confusing) and THAT IS NOT ACCEPTABLE to some people in my life. Or I don't think it's acceptable. Which is why I am sometimes vague. I'm going to stop saying vague now.
The reason, probably, is I haven't quite figured out how to combine my lives. Like professional and personal and writing lives. But they are really one life. It's not a secret that I write. And if you Google my name, which is a pretty common name, which is annoying in many ways, I do come up near the top (which is exciting and maybe a little anxiety-provoking) and so, even if I were trying to hide something, I'm probably not doing a very good job of it. If people want to know stuff about me, they will know stuff. Even if I don't say it, you can extrapolate more from my writing than with some writers. Fiction is written through the filter of experience. Unless it's about zombies and stuff, in which case it mostly just tells people that you probably ate lunch alone a lot as a kid. (I did. In 7th grade anyways. And I was not into zombies. I was pathologically shy, but that is a story for another day.)
My point? Man, I swear I usually have one when I start these posts, but I go off on tangents. Don't think I don't know this. I'm a little ADD. Maybe more than a little. Someone once said I'm so smart, if I could focus, I'd be dangerous. I don't remember what I said but it was likely a non-sequitur because I was on to the next thought. Or I suspected them of mocking me and went to the bathroom to cry. Or I said it myself and am attributing it to someone else because I wish that is what other people thought. I think it was the first, but I don't know. What was I saying?
Here are some random things that are happening: I have gotten a few rejections for what I think is some of my best writing that I have had out for submission for a long time. I'm thinking maybe I'm shooting too high. Like I'm not ready for this level of places I'm submitting. Then I think if I were reading these stories for my own journal, I would like them. And I don't think that about everything I write. I do think that about what I submit, I think. Maybe I haven't always, or maybe I didn't think about that much in my quest to have things published. Tangent again. Sorry. Anyways, I would like an acceptance very much and that is the point.
Some other things: I have had this bad cough for about a month (I get these chronic upper respiratory infections every year now) and I coughed so hard last week, I broke a rib or tore some ligaments and tendons or whatever between some ribs. The x-ray results should be in tomorrow. Another injury not attributable to my active lifestyle. I do not have one of those, by the way. I left my house this afternoon for the first time since Friday night. That would be embarrassing, but for the rib thing, which is my explanation and I'm sticking to it. My cat has been using me as a very comfortable (apparently) piece of furniture upon which to lounge, so it was for his benefit, as well. He has been very healthy, but I still worry about him and maybe more me because I don't know what I would do without him. What I will do without him. But that is not a story for now, either.
Oh, I'm totally ashamed of this but, in the interest of telling secrets so they don't eat me alive, I watched Forrest Gump the other night and it made me cry. Granted, it was designed to tug on, yank, and mutilate the heart strings, whatever those may be, but I chose to watch it and I cried, dammit. And I watched the whole damn thing and I am not proud of that, but it is not the worst couple of hours I have ever spent. Ok, I'm done. Commence the judging. I could lie and tell you I watched documentaries, but I can't lie to you. All three or four of you. I don't know how many, really. There may be billions of readers sitting there aghast at my confession. But it's more like three or four. I'm sorry I let you all down.
I found one of my best friends from college and many years thereafter on Facebook today, after realizing we last spoke maybe three or four years ago. Which is many years after we graduated from college. She came into my head today and I missed her so much it made my rib hurt and I sent her an email but I knew her email address would have changed because it was from when she used her ex-husband's last name and I knew she would have gone back to her old name or gotten married to her then-boyfriend (which she did) and the email bounced back and I felt really grateful to social media in a way I haven't for a long time. She accepted my friend request and I messaged her immediately a few hours ago and haven't heard back, but I know I will. She is one of those friends you can go a long time without talking to and then pick right back up and be where you were because you have been friends a long time and it matters. Which reminds me I have to call back another one of those awesome friends who called me last weekend and I haven't called back. FOCUS. Jeez. He knows how I am and loves me anyways and I am so lucky to have people like that in my life.
I am super rambly these days. I guess I'm just getting old. Or maybe it's because I stay in my house and avoid people for two days or sometimes more. Or maybe it's because I don't write here enough. Or maybe it's because I forget things and then I remember and they matter. To me, they matter. To say them, trivial as they may be, matters. Important things, like good friends who have been there through difficult and wonderful times, matter. I may lack focus but I'll remember the important things. I hope someone will be here to listen when I do.
Why do I not tell people about my blog? Probably because I'm pretty honest here (when I'm not being vague and/or confusing) and THAT IS NOT ACCEPTABLE to some people in my life. Or I don't think it's acceptable. Which is why I am sometimes vague. I'm going to stop saying vague now.
The reason, probably, is I haven't quite figured out how to combine my lives. Like professional and personal and writing lives. But they are really one life. It's not a secret that I write. And if you Google my name, which is a pretty common name, which is annoying in many ways, I do come up near the top (which is exciting and maybe a little anxiety-provoking) and so, even if I were trying to hide something, I'm probably not doing a very good job of it. If people want to know stuff about me, they will know stuff. Even if I don't say it, you can extrapolate more from my writing than with some writers. Fiction is written through the filter of experience. Unless it's about zombies and stuff, in which case it mostly just tells people that you probably ate lunch alone a lot as a kid. (I did. In 7th grade anyways. And I was not into zombies. I was pathologically shy, but that is a story for another day.)
My point? Man, I swear I usually have one when I start these posts, but I go off on tangents. Don't think I don't know this. I'm a little ADD. Maybe more than a little. Someone once said I'm so smart, if I could focus, I'd be dangerous. I don't remember what I said but it was likely a non-sequitur because I was on to the next thought. Or I suspected them of mocking me and went to the bathroom to cry. Or I said it myself and am attributing it to someone else because I wish that is what other people thought. I think it was the first, but I don't know. What was I saying?
Here are some random things that are happening: I have gotten a few rejections for what I think is some of my best writing that I have had out for submission for a long time. I'm thinking maybe I'm shooting too high. Like I'm not ready for this level of places I'm submitting. Then I think if I were reading these stories for my own journal, I would like them. And I don't think that about everything I write. I do think that about what I submit, I think. Maybe I haven't always, or maybe I didn't think about that much in my quest to have things published. Tangent again. Sorry. Anyways, I would like an acceptance very much and that is the point.
Some other things: I have had this bad cough for about a month (I get these chronic upper respiratory infections every year now) and I coughed so hard last week, I broke a rib or tore some ligaments and tendons or whatever between some ribs. The x-ray results should be in tomorrow. Another injury not attributable to my active lifestyle. I do not have one of those, by the way. I left my house this afternoon for the first time since Friday night. That would be embarrassing, but for the rib thing, which is my explanation and I'm sticking to it. My cat has been using me as a very comfortable (apparently) piece of furniture upon which to lounge, so it was for his benefit, as well. He has been very healthy, but I still worry about him and maybe more me because I don't know what I would do without him. What I will do without him. But that is not a story for now, either.
Oh, I'm totally ashamed of this but, in the interest of telling secrets so they don't eat me alive, I watched Forrest Gump the other night and it made me cry. Granted, it was designed to tug on, yank, and mutilate the heart strings, whatever those may be, but I chose to watch it and I cried, dammit. And I watched the whole damn thing and I am not proud of that, but it is not the worst couple of hours I have ever spent. Ok, I'm done. Commence the judging. I could lie and tell you I watched documentaries, but I can't lie to you. All three or four of you. I don't know how many, really. There may be billions of readers sitting there aghast at my confession. But it's more like three or four. I'm sorry I let you all down.
I found one of my best friends from college and many years thereafter on Facebook today, after realizing we last spoke maybe three or four years ago. Which is many years after we graduated from college. She came into my head today and I missed her so much it made my rib hurt and I sent her an email but I knew her email address would have changed because it was from when she used her ex-husband's last name and I knew she would have gone back to her old name or gotten married to her then-boyfriend (which she did) and the email bounced back and I felt really grateful to social media in a way I haven't for a long time. She accepted my friend request and I messaged her immediately a few hours ago and haven't heard back, but I know I will. She is one of those friends you can go a long time without talking to and then pick right back up and be where you were because you have been friends a long time and it matters. Which reminds me I have to call back another one of those awesome friends who called me last weekend and I haven't called back. FOCUS. Jeez. He knows how I am and loves me anyways and I am so lucky to have people like that in my life.
I am super rambly these days. I guess I'm just getting old. Or maybe it's because I stay in my house and avoid people for two days or sometimes more. Or maybe it's because I don't write here enough. Or maybe it's because I forget things and then I remember and they matter. To me, they matter. To say them, trivial as they may be, matters. Important things, like good friends who have been there through difficult and wonderful times, matter. I may lack focus but I'll remember the important things. I hope someone will be here to listen when I do.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
you are here
I was sitting in my beanbag yesterday afternoon at around 6:30 and I felt like I was maybe going to start feeling bad about my life and I got out of the beanbag and changed my clothes really fast and walked outside. And I walked by where people dock their boats and I walked by cars and I saw bridges and it was getting darker. I saw the sun in one part of the sky and the moon in another and I kept turning my head back and forth. And I walked like I was walking to something. Like I had purpose or at least like I needed to and I did not care what people thought of me and I always care what people think of me.
I was thinking how nice it was to be outside and to see the things I was seeing. And how I don't go out that much and when I am out, I don't see that much. And I felt like I've been unfair to this place because of the bad things that have happened here. And I thought I need to forgive this place and I need to do things that will get me what I want instead of just feeling bad because I want to move and I need to get a new job and find the financial means to go and it's very expensive here anyways. So I stopped thinking about being sad and stuck and started to think about plans and even making them. And I started seeing these hearts drawn in chalk along the paved path I was walking and then I saw written on the path: ALMOST THERE!
And I got kind of weirdly happy. Because I was just thinking about here and there and how I needed to think of ways to get there, but that there wasn't the point, because there is no there. I know, this is ridiculous. I was really just thinking there are different ways to think. And the chalk on the ground was there at an interesting time during the thoughts I was thinking.
And I started walking down this pier but then I saw there were two guys at the end, so I stopped a ways before then and looked over the pier at the water and thought it would be as easy to be there (in the water) as anyplace I would go other than here and that it all comes down to plans. So I continued to feel very determined and I walked home and I got some money and I went to Home Depot and bought some boxes so I could pack up some things, especially a lot of books, to get rid of. And I walked in the door with all that purpose and tripped on this thick rubber mat and almost fell but I caught myself. And some other people saw and were amused or whatever and I still did not care. And I had just been thinking - in the car - that I don't have to apologize or explain myself to anyone for being me. Which is kind of a big thing to me. I am learning some pretty elementary things. So I just sort of laughed at myself and walked over to the boxes and bought 10 small boxes. They are only .69/apiece. I don't know why people are so crazy about going on Craigslist and getting people's boxes for free.
Anyhow, I came home and started to put together boxes and put books in them. And I saw all of these books I have been carrying around for many years. Packing up for numerous moves. Books I will never read again and some I might want to someday. And I am keeping a few, but I don't need to own them anymore. There are libraries for that. I'm not done, but I'm finishing and then I will donate them. And then I will go through and get rid of a lot of my clothes. And a lot of my other stuff. I will have less clutter and be more ready to go when I make things happen so I can go.
There is no timeline. The chalk encouragement doesn't matter. I am here. I want to be there. And I almost am.
I was thinking how nice it was to be outside and to see the things I was seeing. And how I don't go out that much and when I am out, I don't see that much. And I felt like I've been unfair to this place because of the bad things that have happened here. And I thought I need to forgive this place and I need to do things that will get me what I want instead of just feeling bad because I want to move and I need to get a new job and find the financial means to go and it's very expensive here anyways. So I stopped thinking about being sad and stuck and started to think about plans and even making them. And I started seeing these hearts drawn in chalk along the paved path I was walking and then I saw written on the path: ALMOST THERE!
And I got kind of weirdly happy. Because I was just thinking about here and there and how I needed to think of ways to get there, but that there wasn't the point, because there is no there. I know, this is ridiculous. I was really just thinking there are different ways to think. And the chalk on the ground was there at an interesting time during the thoughts I was thinking.
And I started walking down this pier but then I saw there were two guys at the end, so I stopped a ways before then and looked over the pier at the water and thought it would be as easy to be there (in the water) as anyplace I would go other than here and that it all comes down to plans. So I continued to feel very determined and I walked home and I got some money and I went to Home Depot and bought some boxes so I could pack up some things, especially a lot of books, to get rid of. And I walked in the door with all that purpose and tripped on this thick rubber mat and almost fell but I caught myself. And some other people saw and were amused or whatever and I still did not care. And I had just been thinking - in the car - that I don't have to apologize or explain myself to anyone for being me. Which is kind of a big thing to me. I am learning some pretty elementary things. So I just sort of laughed at myself and walked over to the boxes and bought 10 small boxes. They are only .69/apiece. I don't know why people are so crazy about going on Craigslist and getting people's boxes for free.
Anyhow, I came home and started to put together boxes and put books in them. And I saw all of these books I have been carrying around for many years. Packing up for numerous moves. Books I will never read again and some I might want to someday. And I am keeping a few, but I don't need to own them anymore. There are libraries for that. I'm not done, but I'm finishing and then I will donate them. And then I will go through and get rid of a lot of my clothes. And a lot of my other stuff. I will have less clutter and be more ready to go when I make things happen so I can go.
There is no timeline. The chalk encouragement doesn't matter. I am here. I want to be there. And I almost am.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
away
I'm going to go away for awhile. Probably just inside my head because I can't afford to go anyplace else. I'm going to be someone else or just me sparing other people me. This is a thing that will matter to nobody, especially me. This is a thing to do to try to make me better, to try to heal from things that might be burdening other people. To let them heal from me.
People say I think too much and assume things that are not true. People are smart and right. I will try to be interesting and lighter and less of a responsibility and more fun. I am going to move to a place where nobody knows me. Maybe Montana. Maybe somewhere else. Don't look for me. I won't be there.
People say I think too much and assume things that are not true. People are smart and right. I will try to be interesting and lighter and less of a responsibility and more fun. I am going to move to a place where nobody knows me. Maybe Montana. Maybe somewhere else. Don't look for me. I won't be there.
Friday, March 8, 2013
everything is the same everywhere
I think this is a good thing for some people but maybe not so much for me. I'm in Boston at this writers conference and I almost didn't come for some pretty legitimate reasons but I decided it would be good for me to get away. But I lost my voice, along with my drivers license and debit card. Some dignity. I messed up a reading last night. People are mad at me or disappointed in me or embarrassed for me, laughing at me or not registering my existence, which is status quo in my life.
I know a lot of people here but I've been alone all day. I'm in a nice Japanese restaurant eating some delicious udon. I probably didn't need to spend all this money to come be alone. I do it for free all the time.
So, this should be a whole different happy post but I guess it really fits. I am going to have a collection of short fiction published by Curbside Splendor next spring. It will be called after the name of one of my stories, If I Would Leave Myself Behind. So, I'm very happy about that. It doesn't sound like it. I'm just very tired.
I know a lot of people here but I've been alone all day. I'm in a nice Japanese restaurant eating some delicious udon. I probably didn't need to spend all this money to come be alone. I do it for free all the time.
So, this should be a whole different happy post but I guess it really fits. I am going to have a collection of short fiction published by Curbside Splendor next spring. It will be called after the name of one of my stories, If I Would Leave Myself Behind. So, I'm very happy about that. It doesn't sound like it. I'm just very tired.
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