Do you remember radio plays? I was a child at the tail-end of that wonderful form of entertainment. I used to love listening to radio plays on my mama's favorite station. It was like being read to, but watching a movie at the same time. At least that is how I described it, then. The truth was that it got my imagination running and I could get lost in the story just. Like. That.
It took a while before I gave in and tried Audible books. I have always been a reader and something seemed, well, lazy about it. I am not a child, anymore. I can read for myself, thank you very much. That is why when an old friend of mine suggested that I should try listening to books on audio while I was busy with housework or driving, I smiled slightly and changed the subject.
Three years later, I finally tried it. I started yesterday and I have listened to two lectures on writing creative fiction and half of a novel. I want to point out that I have been busy while listening to the novel. The lectures? I take notes and then do the assignments that he suggests. I've been listening for two days and I am in love with Audible.
Honestly, I am a little frustrated at the thought that I won't have time to listen tomorrow. TWO, count'em TWO family Thanksgivings to attend. How dare my precious family time take up my audio book time?
No, really. I am looking forward to Thanksgiving. Honest. I can listen on Friday.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Grief and Loss
From the outside it looks like any other building, but as I draw closer, the stark blackness of it engulfs me. There is a light on in there, but it isn't very bright. The moon is behind me and I see my own reflection in the broken window. I am in pieces and splayed out in a circle. I think someone should break it out and put a new sheet of glass in there. If it breaks unexpectedly, people could get hurt. I have climbed the steps and reached the door. I can hear them inside. There is laughing, shouting, and singing... I hesitate. If I knock on this door, someone will answer, and then I will have to go inside- where happy people play around me. In the dark.
My response to a course assignment - Describe a place from the point of view of a parent who has lost a child without pointing out they have lost a child.
I have never lost a child. My nephew died in a car accident three years ago and it was a living hell, but my grief was not the same as my sister's. And just this last weekend, my cousin lost his youngest - only slightly older than Danny was... and in a car accident. Life is so unpredictable. So is death. :(
My response to a course assignment - Describe a place from the point of view of a parent who has lost a child without pointing out they have lost a child.
I have never lost a child. My nephew died in a car accident three years ago and it was a living hell, but my grief was not the same as my sister's. And just this last weekend, my cousin lost his youngest - only slightly older than Danny was... and in a car accident. Life is so unpredictable. So is death. :(
Daily Life Of A Bipolar Writer
I'm dreaming. I have memorable dreams every night. I can recall them all soon after I wake up, but others stick with me. My most vivid dreams follow the same themes. I think about them while I drink coffee, with my husband sitting beside me wondering why I am so quiet and serious in the mornings. He works the second shift and I do most of my writing while he's gone.
I sit here at my desk in front of an open window, with fans blowing air behind me, checking email, checking Facebook, and of course, this blog. While I'm checking my blog I bookmark posts from Discover and my reader and then check for available assignments. I grab what I can and start writing.
When it's been 3 hours and my shoulders, neck, and swollen feet are feeling it, it is time for coffee or iced tea and an oh-so-good-for-me cigarette. And this is where I get in trouble. I've learned a few things. Three hours worth of freelance web content is about all I'm good for, folks.
My thoughts do not stop and I am not always sure I want them to! I create in my head until my cigarette is gone and then head back inside with the intention of looking up a particular phrase, brand name, synonym....
Before I know it, an hour goes by and I am now reading about street life in Asia. Fortunately, I always bookmark my searches.
This is when I get to write for myself and it feels so nice to be in the flow.
Well, on some days that is true. On others, I'm probably reading blogs and exploring fabulous artists, or playing a game and telling myself I should be writing.
I went to bed at 7 this morning and got up at noon. I've been reading and writing ever since on the day I am not supposed to be working at all.
This is mania. She and I have a love/hate relationship.
She's my muse, my antagonizer, my mother, my child, my coach - and the reason I am not sleeping or dreaming away my sleep.
Sometimes she is even the reason I am not falling apart.
Music time :)
I sit here at my desk in front of an open window, with fans blowing air behind me, checking email, checking Facebook, and of course, this blog. While I'm checking my blog I bookmark posts from Discover and my reader and then check for available assignments. I grab what I can and start writing.
When it's been 3 hours and my shoulders, neck, and swollen feet are feeling it, it is time for coffee or iced tea and an oh-so-good-for-me cigarette. And this is where I get in trouble. I've learned a few things. Three hours worth of freelance web content is about all I'm good for, folks.
My thoughts do not stop and I am not always sure I want them to! I create in my head until my cigarette is gone and then head back inside with the intention of looking up a particular phrase, brand name, synonym....
Before I know it, an hour goes by and I am now reading about street life in Asia. Fortunately, I always bookmark my searches.
This is when I get to write for myself and it feels so nice to be in the flow.
Well, on some days that is true. On others, I'm probably reading blogs and exploring fabulous artists, or playing a game and telling myself I should be writing.
I went to bed at 7 this morning and got up at noon. I've been reading and writing ever since on the day I am not supposed to be working at all.
This is mania. She and I have a love/hate relationship.
She's my muse, my antagonizer, my mother, my child, my coach - and the reason I am not sleeping or dreaming away my sleep.
Sometimes she is even the reason I am not falling apart.
Music time :)
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