Month: January 2011

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The Will to Write

The difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather a lack of will. — Vince Lombardi

Legendary Green Bay Packers’ Coach Vince Lombardi understood success and he understood what it took to achieve it.  It takes willpower to coach a team to the SuperBowl and win – twice.  Willpower, and always keeping an eye on the ultimate goal.

It also takes willpower to write and publish a book then another, and another.  Raw, butt-breaking, stick-to-it willpower.   Best-selling author Madeline Hunter once said that she had never seen a writer who persevered not eventually publish. Since then, I have observed others and seen first-hand the truth of her words.  Writers who persevere do eventually publish.

When I think on my experiences in writing my first book, I’m awed that I ever finished it. It was a daunting job, even with the assistance of a decent critique group.  My second book came easier.  My third, written in only eight months, seemed even simpler, although the middle is still mush.  Perhaps if I had pushed myself harder to polish and actually sell those early efforts, I would have had more success with those that followed.  But, somewhere along the way I let life intrude.  Again, again and yet again. 😦

About a year ago I received a medical wake-up call.  It made me examine my life and where I was headed.  I started eating healthier. Over the next several months, I lost a whole lot of weight, and gained a whole new wardrobe. 😀   My husband and I had long talked about a dream trip.  In October we flew to Paris.  But where is my writing in all of this?  It can’t just sit idle.

I’ve had this innate need to write for too long to let it just fade into oblivion.  I won’t allow my obituary to say “An amateur writer, she wrote several novels that were never published.”  I ache to churn out characters and stories that will not just lie buried in some computer file, but will be read and enjoyed by many.

So I’m writing again, daily.  My newly created characters are talking to me.  They’re taking actions that reveal who they are.  They’re getting into trouble.  Forcing me to plot just how I’m going to get them to the point where they finally declare their love.  Just now I’d be thrilled if they’d even talk to each other in a civil manner.  Regardless of the grief they cause, I am writing about their lives and will continue until their story is told.

I will finish this book.   Writers who persevere do eventually publish. ∞



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Mothers & Daughters

I’m thinking of her today. Her gentle voice and proud image linger about me.

The relationship between a mother and her daughter can follow many paths.  A childhood friend was incredibly close to her mom. The two of them talked, laughed and shared silly secrets. Yet another good friend and her mother were like strangers; they barely spoke. At various times I have envied both. Why?

She was generous in her legacies. I cannot fault her for that.

From her I learned the value of family. She was an at-home wife and mother with a large family. At a time when bottle-feeding was rampant in America, she breastfed her babies. When store-bought Wonder Bread became the national favorite, she kneaded and baked wholesome homemade bread and cinnamon buns filling our home with an awesome aroma. Our childhood meals always saw us seated together around the table. As a young mother through the 1950s and 1960s, she regularly used her Kodak, snapping pictures of all those she loved and recording our history for posterity.  Throughout her life, she treasured family and family gatherings.

She also loved to read. Another cherished legacy, one that led to my writing. From my earliest days, I saw scores of books on the shelves of our living room – REBECCA, WUTHERING HEIGHTS, JANE EYRE, and a magnificent edition of the complete works of William Shakespeare. In junior high, I brought home Victoria Holt’s MISTRESS OF MELLYN from the school library; that started our shared immersion into gothic romance and then romantic suspense. How she loved those books – a rambling cliff side mansion, a dark, brooding hero, a heroine in danger.  Sometimes, I think she saw herself in the role.

From her I learned dignity, self-esteem and stubbornness.  She took great pride in her appearance. Each morning, and whenever she left the house, she would preen in front the mirror, freshening her make-up and hair. For nearly four decades she sold Avon cosmetics. It brought in some cash, but it also brought luxury into her life. In her last years, after we all convinced her she was too ill to continue with it, she secretly signed up again and struggled to sell for another year.

Still, there were aspects of her character that I rejected. Parts of her were a puzzle I could not solve, a riddle I never understood. Sometimes, I think I will spend my remaining years trying to understand her, and our relationship. Penance.

It’s now been 3½ years since she left us. Today, she would have been 83.

Happy birthday, Mom. I love you.  ∞

 

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A New Year

It’s Sunday, January 9th, and my house is still decorated for Christmas.   I got a late start.  When I finally got around to decorating, I scattered seasonal décor with a light hand.  Instead of a 6-foot tree, I set up a table tree in our bay window.  Elsewhere our Christmas stockings, my Jim Shore Santas, two red poinsettias, and a bunch of candles spread holiday cheer in our home.  With the sparkle of the tree lights and glow of the candles, it was enough.

Now, even though Christmas is more than two weeks gone, I’m not ready to put it all away.  Call it the afterglow.  I’ve always loved reading through holiday cards and letters after the holiday.  Just as precious are the late arrivals that season our mailbox between Christmas and the New Year.  I take time to enjoy my new gifts, especially the books and CDs, bath and body products, and assorted kitchen gadgets. I love wearing my Santa socks, and posting new pictures of babies and toddlers on our refrigerator.

Still, there is a time to put it all away and bring in the New Year.  Just not yet.

In the spirit of welcoming 2011 though, as I hung my new calendar I made a few resolutions.  Mostly they pertain to health and writing.  I WILL continue to eat healthy and to lose a few more pounds. I WILL finish my latest book by April 1st.  And I WILL blog weekly.

This last resolution caught me by surprise.  It came in response to a challenge posted on WordPress.com, challenging us to increase our blogging time.  WP suggested we blog daily, or weekly.  I knew I’d never make the daily gig.  It’s enough for me to scribble a few more paragraphs on my book each day.  But a weekly blog?  Still, I have a good friend who’s been doing just that since she set up her blog in 2008 and she’s now published.  It’s about putting commitment and scheduling into one’s mindset.  A good idea.

So, dear reader, watch for a new blog each week.  Come summer, watch for an even healthier me.  And finally this spring, watch for word of a finished book.  My resolutions are lofty ones so could you please send a few positive thoughts my way?  I’ll hold your hand, if you hold mine.

Now, if I hang some hearts from the branches of my small tree, do you think I can keep it up until Valentine’s Day?  ∞