Time Ain't On My Side

Thought for the day:  I think our house is haunted. Every time I try to look into a mirror, some fat old lady gets in front of me so I can't even see my reflection. 

Time for this old gal to try something new. The Insecure Writer's Support Group has been around for quite a while now, but up until now, I've been content to sit back as an observer. Well no more! The clock may be running down, dadgum it, but it's time to get my sorry butt off the bench and into the game before the buzzer sounds to end the game.

The first Wednesday of every month, participants write a pertinent ISWG post, and this month, for the first time, I'm one of 'em.(You can find a list of other insecure writers who are participating this month by clicking on that participants link.) 

Now then, let's start by addressing the basic issue of insecurity. Am I insecure, and if so, why? A gal named Sheila Kaye-Smith said it best: I am old enough to see how little I have done in so much time, and how much I have to do in so little.

Yep, that's it in a nutshell. I'm an old broad. I'm not particularly upset about being this old, because it happens to everybody, and there's a lot of good things to say about this time of life. But considering I've been an avid reader and writer my entire life, the fact that I've only published one novel in all these years is a wee bit disheartening. Not that I'm not happy with Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade. I am. But for the most part, since it came out, I've been sitting back as an observer... just thinking about writing another book, and thinking about when I could find time to do it, instead of actually doing it.

No more! My butt is off the bench and back into that game, too. The thing is, I'm working on a trilogy. An ambitious undertaking at any age, but even greater for someone with nearly fifty years of marriage under her belt and a whopping crop of thirteen grandchildren. I mean, what if I don't live long enough to finish it?

I say... SO WHAT???

So far, I'm only about half-way through the first draft of book one. Maybe I'll live long enough to complete all three books; maybe I won't. But I am going to keep at it, because that's what writers do, right? We write. And for me, for now, the finally getting around to beginning another book is what matters most.

Thoreau said None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm. That I still have. In spades.

The question for this month is How do you find the time to write in your busy day?

Funny you should ask, because not finding time to write is the reason... no make that the excuse... I used for not getting started on this trilogy sooner. We all have twenty-four hours in a day, and how we use them is a good indicator of where our priorities lie. Trouble is, I wasn't prioritizing writing. At all. I've always been an early riser, but when I got up, I'd have a cup or two of tea, and read the newspaper. If my better half still hadn't shown his smiling face by the time I'd finished devouring the newspaper, I'd check emails. Once my hubby got up, it'd be time to cook breakfast and start the daily routine of chores. One thing would lead to another, and before I knew it, yet another day had passed without me writing a single word of my so-called Work-in-Progress. I made time to read, and time to write reviews, and time to edit for other writers, and to putz around in the blogosphere, but nothing... zip, zilch, zero... no time at all went into the book I supposedly wanted to write. I'd done tons of research in preparation, but when it came to the actual writing... I couldn't find the time.

Dumb, dumb, dumb!!!

Few things are as foolish as hoping old behaviors will somehow present new results. [Robin Sharma]

Clearly, if I wanted different results, I had to change my behavior.

Now? Those delicious early morning hours are spent with a cup or two of tea and my writing notebook. Every morning, I spend a peaceful hour or two with pen in hand, and it feels awesome!!! Now that I'm in the habit, and getting all wrapped up in my book, I'm even finding additional time here and there during the day, as well. Son of a gun! Time I didn't think I had was actually there all along. Bottom line? If you truly want to write, you will find the time.

                             Nice to meet you guys. It's fun to be part of a team again.

Now, for a quick tip of the hat to a gal who definitely knows how to find time to write. Not only has the lovely Julie Flanders written four terrific thrillers to scare the bejeezus out of us adults, (Polar Night, Polar Day, The Turnagain Arm, and The Ghosts of Aquinnah)  but she has now written something that's (ahem) the polar opposite. Tomorrow, her first children's picture book will be released. CONGRATULATIONS, Julie!

                                                                     Here's the scoop:

Baby Moo has a dream. He wants to travel the world and sing on the stage of the Sydney Opera House! While he loves his home at Sunrise Sanctuary, it hasn’t been the same since a piglet named Nathan showed up and stole all the attention away from Moo. Jealous of the new baby, Moo decides now is the time to make his escape and pursue his dream.

But the world outside the sanctuary gates is not quite the fun and exciting place Moo imagined, and he quickly finds himself in big trouble. Moo's friends Missy the dog and Ruthie the cat rush to help him, and land in some trouble of their own.

Lost and frightened, Moo and his friends must rely on each other to find their way back home. Will they ever see Sunrise again?

Release date: September 8, 2016 from Native Ink Press

Links:

https://julieflanders.blogspot.com/p/baby-moos-great-escape.html

Add on Goodreads

Julie will donate $1 to Sunrise Sanctuary, home to Baby Moo and numerous other rescued animals, for each copy sold in September.

                        Here's wishing all the best to Julie Flanders and sweet Baby Moo. 

              [To my regular readers, this will be my only post this week. Seeya next Friday!]
{Oh, crap-a-doodle-doo. Turns out, I may be away from the computer for several days, so it may take me longer than usual to respond to your comments. Sorry. I'll get to your blogs asap.}

                            Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

A Prelude to Change

Thought for the day:  Sometimes it's important to work for that pot of gold. But other times it's essential to take time off and to make sure that your most important decision in the day simply consists of choosing which color to slide down on the rainbow.  [Douglas Pagels]

No telling what kind of pot you might find at the end of a rainbow, but if you drink enough water, you'll be plenty happy to find the kind that's in the picture.

In the meantime, let's enjoy the slide, shall we? This is Labor Day weekend, which of course means... no labor, people! (For you folks in Canada, Australia and the U.K., that's Labour and labour...) It's a time to relax and let things slide a bit. You could say it's the last gasp of summer, or a preparation for the upcoming change of season. Time to forget about baseball, (especially if you're a Braves fan) and start thinking about football. (Even if the thermometer is still reading close to ninety degrees...)

If work were such a wonderful thing, surely the rich would have kept it all to themselves.  [Lane Kirkland]

According to the calendar, summer doesn't officially end for another three weeks, but for all intense purposes, most of us consider Labor Day weekend to be our last hurrah. Our last desperate effort to squeeze in another round of fun in the sun. You can be as active ... or inactive... as you'd like.

There's lots of things you could do this weekend, but whatever it is, I hope you take a little time to ...

escape from the usual grind.









                         
                                           
You could take a nice relaxing bubble bath,

take a nap in the great outdoors,








                                                          or enjoy a good ol' barbecue.

    Don't forget the watermelon!

You could spend the day at the beach,









                                                               or lying in the grass.

You can run, drive, golf, swim, fish, sightsee, or just curl up with a good book. Do whatever the heck it is you want to do, but don't forget...

summer will be over ... and the chairs will be empty... before ya know it.









And so, I raise a cup o' kindness to you, (You can fill it with whatever you'd like)

and wish you all a wonderful Labor Day.

At the end of this Labor Day weekend, I hope you can look back on it and say... It was truly golden.

                   Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

** Images courtesy of morguefile seniorark and perfectlytimedphotos

P.S. Next week, I'll be posting on Wednesday, instead of Friday, as part of the Insecure Writers Support Group. (Yep, I'm a little insecure... I am a writer... and God knows, at my age, I need all the support I can get!) Hope to see ya then.

Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Moe

Thought for the day:  It's easy to make a decision when there are no choices.

True. There weren't a heckuva lot of choices for me to make as a kid. Nothing important, anyway. There were the silly eenie meenie kinda decisions we neighborhood kids made when playing games, but around our house, my choice was generally to do what I was told.

However, there was one memorable occasion, when I was no more than ten years old, when I had to make a decision on my own. It wasn't the right decision, mind you, but it was a decision.

Be decisive. Right or wrong, make a decision. The road of life is paved with flat squirrels who couldn't make up their minds.

You have to understand, where we grew up, lots of people hung out in bars. It was like... a hobby. Well, it just so happens that my parents, aunts and uncles happened to enjoy this particular hobby very much, and we kids... some of my cousins and I... were often given the choice to go with them. Oh, it wasn't so bad. Some of the places were located on the waterfront, so we kids were allowed to go out on the pier to fish, crab, or just dangle our feet in the water. We got to dance in some of the places, sing in some of the others, played lots of shuffleboard and pinball machines, ate all kinds of barroom junk food, and there was always a copious amount of either Yoo Hoo or Squirt to guzzle throughout the day. Which is what led to my momentous decision one Sunday afternoon.

As anyone knows, what goes in must come out, and after numerous bottles of Yoo Hoo, something most definitely wanted to come out. I was directed to go through the back room, past the dance floor, and I'd find the rest rooms against the back wall. Yep, I did all that, and there they were. The problem was, I didn't know which one to use. See, instead of the helpful men and women signs to which I was accustomed, this bar tried to be clever. So there I stood, in considerable discomfort, dancing back and forth from foot to foot, while trying to choose between the two doors, each of which bore a picture of a dog. Yeah, a dog. I kid you not. One was an Irish setter, and the other, a pointer. Yeah, yeah, I know what it means now,  but it was a very important and difficult decision for a little girl in serious danger of wetting her pants.

Matz's maxim: A conclusion is the place where you get tired of thinking. 

So I just picked one. Didn't even go eenie, meenie. Just yanked open the pointer door and ran in. When I got back to the table, I told everybody about the bathrooms, and said I thought I might have picked the wrong one... because there was a cigar butt lying on the floor.

Trust me, the family teased me about that for years.

With all of the hoopla that's been in the news for the past few months about who can use which bathroom, I got to thinking about those ambiguous toilet signs from so long ago. (Ambiguous to me, anyway.) As it turns out, there are a lot of clever toilet signs to be found these days, and I'm guessing they'd be just as confusing to a ten-year old today as those dog signs were to me back then. But... some of these signs really are clever. Wanta see? (As if you had a choice... HA!)

I'm considerably older than ten now, but that last one is still a bit confusing. Can you imagine a couple of gals chatting as they walked to the rest room together... blah, blah, blah, blah, etc... and just seeing the word women? Tricky, tricky, tricky.

                               For some reason, I suddenly have the urge to...

                      Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.