It’s all so random


I’m finding it very hard to write these days.

First of all, I just can’t face the news anymore. I can’t stand the helplessness that I feel about guns, in particular. I dreamed the other night that I was shooting up Congress. I’m not kidding.

And I have never even touched a gun in my life.

Rage is so exhausting.

I’m also struggling with putting myself out there in my writing. I’ll be the first person to admit that I am a blogger, not a “writer.” I’ve never had a piece of fiction published, although I’ve sent a few things off.

It takes some internal courage to keep typing up this chatty little blog. It’s pretty personal, and its my limited attempt to keep myself feeling at least a little bit creative. It’s scary every time I hit the “publish” button, knowing that every typo will be out there. Every trite sentence will be read. People will read and react, and some will think it’s lame.

I recently had some very snarky, mean spirited comments posted about me and about this blog. Posted by someone I love and thought I could trust. It hurt more than it probably should have, and it shook me to the core.

But I need to get back on the bike, if you will. I can’t let someone else take this away from me.

I like writing. I like having this place to express myself. I thoroughly enjoy reading other blogs and being part of this community.

So here I am. I hope that those who find this blog silly, annoying, pointless or boring will do me the courtesy of just not reading it any more.

In light of all the negativity in the world right now, from the insanity of our President to the insanity of the NRA, I think I’ll write about the random nature of life.

I will write about my tomatoes.

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I picked these beauties in about 5 minutes yesterday. Aren’t they lovely? Don’t they look like a gardener actually planted them and took care of them and, you know, grew them on purpose?

Yeah.

But no.

I did plant some tomatoes last May. Right in my actual garden! Right in the soil that I had enhanced with manure and in a deep hole with the right additions. I staked them and I pruned them and I watered them. All 8 plants.

I harvested (ahem, cough, cough) a grand total of 4 cherry tomatoes.

Then I took a walk around the back of my house. You see, we had three huge pine trees cut down last fall. All kinds of new growth has sprung up where they used to cast their shade.

For almost 30 years I had a compost pile back there, in the area around those pines. But when they were cut, their limbs covered the spot, so I have started to compost indoors.

Welp. Lo and behold, while I was ignoring my backyard and letting it go wild, what looks like a veritable forest of tomato plants has taken over the old compost pile. Mixed in with black eyed susans and a lot of crab grass there are at least ten different tomato plants, and they are LOADED with fruit, of all sizes and shapes. All growing on the ground, all tangled in a heap, all overgrown.

Isn’t life random? So much for my illlusions of control.

 

Off The Main Page


In my effort to reinvent myself after my mommy years disappeared, I started this blog.

In my effort to keep improving myself after my teaching years were taken away from me, I started to write for some online sites. I’m trying to get to the point where I can call myself a professional writer. A freelancer. A place where I can sit at a bar in the Caribbean and casually say, “Oh, me? I’m a writer” as I sip my rum drink.

Well. I might not make that last part, but I really am doing my best to make a small living by writing.

With that in mind, small blog following, I have a favor to ask. Can you check out these two sties, and see what you think? If you like them, hoorah! If not, thanks for looking.

The first is LiberalAmerica. Obviously, we have a decidedly leftish approach to the day’s news. If you want to hear from like minded writers, and want a site that aggregates big news stories and included lots of links to more news, please come and check us out. We are absolutely 100% REAL news; we make nothing up, ever. We double and triple check our sources and we always link back to the sites where we get our information.

The second site is a place to read funny, silly, heartwarming, interesting and for the most part not very political news. Its called Off The Main Page. I’ve written about goat yoga, local restaurants, dead cats, a camel camera and a giant space ravioli. Just to name a few.

Come by and check us out. Share if you like what you read!

A nonni’s gotta make a living, right? Even if she’s not at a bar in the Caribbean.

 

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What can I say? A woman can dream.

Awkward……!


NaNoLogo-HookYeah. So I’m doing that ridiculous, self indulgent thing called “National Novel Writing Month.”  The one where you have to slap down 50,000 words in the month of November to win.  Yeah…….

I was sort of semi taking it all seriously until the other night, when I was driving home from my Mom’s house and I heard the originator of the site on NPR.  He was telling us all how he and a bunch of his drunken buddies came up with the idea one night. Hahaha! Let’s try it out, they said.  What the hell, why not?

They had 21 guys the first year.  Something like 150 the second. Around 2,000 the third.

You get the idea.

This year there are, according to this guy, around 400,000 of us slaving away at our keyboards.  Gulp.  We are from 30 countries.  Gulp again.

I guess my novel isn’t likely to earn me that big money that I’ve been dreaming about,huh?

And here’s the next kick in the gut item from the NaNoWriMo creator: your 50,000 words are way too few to make a real novel! And they will inevitably be complete crap!   Now you’ll need to edit. And add on.  And revise.  And reconsider.

sigh.

I thought I was finally on my way to fame, fortune and no more recess duty.

Alas.

But the funny thing?

Its that as I read my own words, my very own thoughts, I keep finding myself moved to tears.

So either I am a complete sap (highly probable), or my novel has some potential (highly unlikely, yet still enticing.)

I am on track to get my NaNoWriMo “winner” badge.

Big freakin’ deal.

sigh.