Walking in a winter wonderland*

Ummm...so it's snowing, and it's October 29th. And this is Connecticut, not freakin' Alaska. C'mon, Mother Nature, give us a break! At least let us get through Halloween. I guess this is just another weird weather phenomenon in the year of The Boy.

*Richard B. Smith

"Sitting, Waiting, Wishing"*

I've never thought that sitting around wishing for something to happen makes that thing happen. Not that I haven't done my share of wishing on shooting stars, on eyelashes that have fallen out, when the digital clock reads all one number (like at 11:11, for example), on a coin thrown into a fountain, when splitting a wishbone, when blowing out birthday candles...okay, I really don't just sit around wishing on things all day.

Oddly enough, though, a lot of writing is sitting--the old butt-in-chair as you write--is waiting--to hear back from critique partners, agents, or editors--and is wishing--because you've got to have something to keep the hope alive. But you also have to be active too. I need to experience life in order to be inspired while I'm sitting and writing, I need to send out my work in order to wait to hear back, and I need to actively daydream about my life as a best-selling author to fuel all those wishes (okay, that last one doesn't really work, but you get the idea!).

So for that past year or so, I've been submitting my writing more actively than I have in all my previous years as a writer. Some opportunities have come up. And a strange thing happened: I found myself turning some of them down.

It wasn't because they weren't good opportunities or because I had so many offers pouring in that I could just shrug off the ones that didn't give me the most gain. It was because they didn't feel right in my gut. Not that the offers were bad; it's more that they were not the right fit for me at the time. Every time I've said no, it's been very, very hard. What if I never get another opportunity for that piece of writing? What if I never get another opportunity for any piece of writing? Did I just say no to the only chance I ever had as a writer?

The thing I've come to realize is that a single no or a string of noes (I originally typed "a string of nose," which would be an entirely different thing...LOL!), whether it's someone else telling me no or me telling someone else no, doesn't mean the end of my writing career. My career ends when I stop sitting and writing and waiting and wishing.

It just so happens that some 3,120 days since I first conceived of the idea that, yes, I can be a writer for real (this is an estimate because I don't remember the exact date I thought this), a pretty big opportunity has come up. One that I feel is right in my gut...one that I am going to say yes to. One that makes me want to climb to the top of my house and shout "YES!" from the rooftop (admittedly, this wouldn't be too hard because I live in a one-story ranch).

So maybe sitting, waiting, wishing worked out okay for me after all. I think I'll go do some more of that and maybe the next offer will be even bigger.

*Jack Johnson

"Nothing's gonna change my mind"*

When I was a freshman in high school, my older sisters' best friend was the captain of my soccer team. She was kind enough to drive me to school, let me hang out with her in between school and practice, and drive me home from practice.

One day before practice we were driving around with some of our teammates and decided that we wanted to "make an entrance" as we drove down the small road that led to the field. We flipped through the radio, hoping to find either a rap song with a solid beat or a hard-hitting rock song to blast. The radio failed us.

So we went the complete opposite of what we had planned and blasted the lamest song we could find: Celine Dion's It's All Coming Back to Me Now. Let me tell you, we rocked that song like it's never been rocked before! And we made a hell of an entrance! Even though I couldn't stand that song before we rocked it out, I now listen to it fondly all these years later.

Then there was the time my sisters (all three of them) and I were at a wedding and Lady Marmalade (the Pink, Aguilera, Mya, and Lil' Kim version) came on. The four of us danced and lip-synced to that song like we were shooting a music video for it. I had thought that song was pretty good, but now I love it and always listen to it with a bittersweet mixture of pure joy and pure sadness (since one of my sisters died not too long after that occasion).

The point of all this reminiscing (contrary to what it may seem, I try to have a point to all my posts...even when the point is somewhat pointless). I consider myself something of a free-thinker. I'm often stubborn (a trait it seems The Boy has inherited) and don't like to think I'm easily swayed by others opinions. Not that I'm totally inflexible. On the rare occasion someone backs up their point with solid reasoning and proves me wrong, I'll totally give them props for it.

Yet, when it comes to sharing moments with people and music (as is often the case) or a movie served as a catalyst to that moment, my opinions are easily changed. That song that I hated, but my hubby loved became a cherished song for both of us when we listened to it in the car together during a vacation. That TV show that always used to make me roll my eyes because it was just so dumb became one I faithfully watched with my dad and brother because we just had so much fun mocking it. And you know what, I truly ended up liking it by the time the series was over.

There's the flip side of this too. Did you ever really like something and you mentioned it to someone and they were like, "Oh, I hated that. It was so stupid"? And then the magic of that thing was gone for you too.

I think what it comes down to is connections (and isn't that what so many things come down to?). If you can make a connection over something, that thing becomes more special, but if that thing is a source of a disconnect, then it loses its charm. I guess I'm not as badass stubborn as I thought I was after all!

*Puddle of Mudd