I blame @EisleyJacobs for tagging me! She's sooooooooo going to pay. I usually get these once in a blue moon and what do I do but -- "gently" toss them in the fires of the trash bin. I mean!!! Do you really care what YOU know about me much less what YOU don't know about me? I'm not that interesting. I write, I work, and I go home to a nice glass of WHITE (never red--drank red all through my 20s and now can't stand the smell or the TASTE) wine. That's my life except for an occasional meet and greet with the above mentioned person on Tuesday mornings for chit chat and redbull (sometimes a danish...well, okay, to be honest, always a danish) while she has coffee. Most writers are introverts. I'm an introvert that becomes a raging extrovert when I feel comfortable with the person I'm with--hence the SINGLE status of my love life. No guy wants to date a woman who doesn't know how to put words into sentences on the first date. If they would just give me a FOURTH or FIFTH chance they'd see I'm a hoot and a half. ;-) But, alas Miss Heather (you must read her blog http://eisleyjacobs.com/life/7-things-about-me/ for the inside joke) er... Eisley would like to know more about me. What's to tell?
1. I grew up in Lincoln, NE amongst the corn and the Catholic sexist rules. Women weren't allowed on the pulpit...come on, really??? My mom and dad belonged to a group called CALL. To put it nicely, they fought against the rules and we kids, my brother and I, paid for it big time. One priest wouldn't let me leave class to MAN the Red Cross Bake Sale that I had signed up for. He publicly embarrassed me in front of the whole class by blurting out that I couldn't afford to leave class due to my grades... um, I had a 'B'.
2. I moved to Colorado with my parents at age 19. The best and worst thing I could have done. I was able to get out of Lincoln (thank God) but then I met my best friend Racheal who taught me to let loose during my 20s... partying, skipping classes, doing illegal substances (over it so really don't care it's out there) and just giving up on God, life, and anything else that should have mattered.
3. I have two cats. Boring but the loves of my life. ;-) Jagger, my 15 year old (yes you read that correctly) male is my baby. He follows me around everywhere I go. I get up from the couch to go into the kitchen he's right beside me...I go to the restroom he's right beside me...and so on. Xena my adorable 5 year old female is also there but she tends to like her quiet every so often. They both purr constantly.
4. I just RECENTLY lost 40 pounds doing Weight Watchers. It. Is. The. Best. Weight program out there. I love my new and improved body that I worked at to get so much....it still needs work but for now I'm very happy with the results.
5. As Eisley mentions in her blog, I too have doubts about my writing. I was accepted to Goddard College's MFA program... beginning in February. But, even though they seemed to like my writing and realize it may have potential I still find myself doubting whether THEY'RE right. 'What if' is always in the back of my mind. What if I fail... what if I am laughed at... what if I'm not really that good... etc.
6. I bought a townhome in 2007 (never thought I'd ever have property of my own) before the huge housing crisis... actually a month before everything went down hill my townhome closed -- whew! Country Wide was my first mortgage company but they denied me the loan. It was only later I realized that they denied me because they were going bankrupt. Thank goodness they didn't approve the loan or I would have been up... well you know... a certain creek without a paddle.
7. My townhome that I purchased for $115,000 and was worth at the time $125,000 is now worth... dum dum dum... $100,000.... guess I won't be getting any equity loans any time soon.
And that's me! All out there for all to see! Be blogging with you later!
Monday, January 24, 2011
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Still I Need You Tonight
Still I Need You Tonight
by
Eve Morton
I look for the answer,
I look for the light,
I walk on every highway;
still I need you tonight.
"Criminal World" composed by Jim Kerr
and Charlie Burchill of the band Simple
Minds
I look for the answer.
Oh how could you want her?
Why did you enter my life,
to only steal my strife?
My jealousy wants to lance her.
I look for the answer.
I look for the light.
It shines too bright.
Your seemed revenge
causes me to cringe,
but your presence causes me to fight.
I look for the light.
I walk on every highway.
Hoping to begin my way,
but the hope is lost,
as you come to me at cost.
My heart will soon die away.
I walk on every highway.
Still I need you tonight.
Your arms to hold...you know...you might.
She to you is nothing,
but me to you is something.
Your flee will cause me to fight
still I need you tonight.
by
Eve Morton
I look for the answer,
I look for the light,
I walk on every highway;
still I need you tonight.
"Criminal World" composed by Jim Kerr
and Charlie Burchill of the band Simple
Minds
I look for the answer.
Oh how could you want her?
Why did you enter my life,
to only steal my strife?
My jealousy wants to lance her.
I look for the answer.
I look for the light.
It shines too bright.
Your seemed revenge
causes me to cringe,
but your presence causes me to fight.
I look for the light.
I walk on every highway.
Hoping to begin my way,
but the hope is lost,
as you come to me at cost.
My heart will soon die away.
I walk on every highway.
Still I need you tonight.
Your arms to hold...you know...you might.
She to you is nothing,
but me to you is something.
Your flee will cause me to fight
still I need you tonight.
Friday, November 19, 2010
I shall succeed!
I shall succeed! Isn't that something that should come easily to a person whose life has been rapt with successful conclusions to harrowing trials and tribulations? You would think so, wouldn't you? But, confidence has never come easily to me -- hence the harrowing trials and tribulations. I have had to struggle through disappointments and decisions that have affected me or someone I loved since I was a teenager.
My life, all cherries and tin man smiles, began with success. My mother, who was told she'd never have children, bore my brother and then me. I guess you could say that was a "success" she accomplished and not the other way around. The Beave lived on my block in suburban hell and Donna Reed was just down the street. Dad -- the man of the house and mom -- the house wife (although she hated vacuuming and didn't wear pearls) were the strengths of our household. They created a valueful, moralistic home life for me and my brother.
After moving to Denver at age 19 I met my best friend, Racheal. In high school I was never popular -- tended to be teased daily. Racheal was the total opposite of me. She was beautiful, skinny, popular, and a drug addict. I remember the first time she offered coke to me -- "You don't have to." -- But at that point in my life I did have to. I needed something to grasp onto and not let go -- I needed a real friend. So, yes, the drugs entered my life with a vengeance and the writing, my passion since I was a wee one, exited. Nine years later I looked at myself in the mirror. I said to myself "I shall succeed!" and threw my stash down the toilet. I cut ties with Racheal and went back to school. The day I graduated was the day I knew those three words were the reason for my success.
After graduation some major health problems arose causing me to lose my job. I didn't have any insurance, money, and I was living with my parents. I moved to Omaha to be near my brother and his family, hoping to also find a permanent job. No such luck! But one day I woke up, looked in the mirror and said "I shall succeed!" The next day I went to see a doctor about my health problems. He offered to do surgery Pro Bono. I was floored. But that's not all. I had only been in Omaha for a few months but the hospital where the surgery was taking place offered to also foot the bill. It was an amazing time.
After the health problems were gone I received a call from an old friend. Racheal had killed herself. I cried for days knowing I could have tried to bring her out of the depressive lifestyle she had immersed herself in...but I also knew she had to have wanted to succeed. So I uttered "I shall succeed" in her honor.
But still there was no permanent job and my parents were tired of paying my expenses. I said to myself "I shall succeed!" The next day a friend offered me an interview back in Denver. I packed up and moved back without hesitation. The job didn't pan out but I didn't lose hope. I interviewed for many jobs that had to do with writing. Three weeks after moving back to Denver I was hired as a proofreader for a law firm. I have been at the company for four years -- the longest time at one company.
For the last four years I have concentrated on my writing -- trying to make it the best I can. Every day I wake up and utter those three words. Last February I applied to Goddard College for their MFA program and was accepted. I begin this February. Every day I have to continue to utter "I shall succeed!" or my mind may wander towards the "What if I don't succeed?" and that is not a place I want to be.
My life, all cherries and tin man smiles, began with success. My mother, who was told she'd never have children, bore my brother and then me. I guess you could say that was a "success" she accomplished and not the other way around. The Beave lived on my block in suburban hell and Donna Reed was just down the street. Dad -- the man of the house and mom -- the house wife (although she hated vacuuming and didn't wear pearls) were the strengths of our household. They created a valueful, moralistic home life for me and my brother.
After moving to Denver at age 19 I met my best friend, Racheal. In high school I was never popular -- tended to be teased daily. Racheal was the total opposite of me. She was beautiful, skinny, popular, and a drug addict. I remember the first time she offered coke to me -- "You don't have to." -- But at that point in my life I did have to. I needed something to grasp onto and not let go -- I needed a real friend. So, yes, the drugs entered my life with a vengeance and the writing, my passion since I was a wee one, exited. Nine years later I looked at myself in the mirror. I said to myself "I shall succeed!" and threw my stash down the toilet. I cut ties with Racheal and went back to school. The day I graduated was the day I knew those three words were the reason for my success.
After graduation some major health problems arose causing me to lose my job. I didn't have any insurance, money, and I was living with my parents. I moved to Omaha to be near my brother and his family, hoping to also find a permanent job. No such luck! But one day I woke up, looked in the mirror and said "I shall succeed!" The next day I went to see a doctor about my health problems. He offered to do surgery Pro Bono. I was floored. But that's not all. I had only been in Omaha for a few months but the hospital where the surgery was taking place offered to also foot the bill. It was an amazing time.
After the health problems were gone I received a call from an old friend. Racheal had killed herself. I cried for days knowing I could have tried to bring her out of the depressive lifestyle she had immersed herself in...but I also knew she had to have wanted to succeed. So I uttered "I shall succeed" in her honor.
But still there was no permanent job and my parents were tired of paying my expenses. I said to myself "I shall succeed!" The next day a friend offered me an interview back in Denver. I packed up and moved back without hesitation. The job didn't pan out but I didn't lose hope. I interviewed for many jobs that had to do with writing. Three weeks after moving back to Denver I was hired as a proofreader for a law firm. I have been at the company for four years -- the longest time at one company.
For the last four years I have concentrated on my writing -- trying to make it the best I can. Every day I wake up and utter those three words. Last February I applied to Goddard College for their MFA program and was accepted. I begin this February. Every day I have to continue to utter "I shall succeed!" or my mind may wander towards the "What if I don't succeed?" and that is not a place I want to be.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Writing 101
Writing must begin with an idea -- a thread of a thought that meanders itself into your brain and won't unlatch itself from the crust of your thoughts. It can begin on the train to work when the person next to you, who smells like rotten fruit, turns and begins a conversation about turnips. Or it can begin one day as you witness a child who misbehaves by shoplifting a shiny action figure from the toy store while their mom looks the other way. Or maybe, as boring as it may seem, the seed could implant itself in your empty brain as you hear a conversation between a gangster and his cell phone planning a meet to trade money for drugs. All that I have mentioned has happened to me -- even the turnip lady...the strangest people ride public transit -- me included.
The next step in writing? Well, transferring the idea to your computer microchip. I am a pantser. I don't do outlines. They're cumbersome to my writing. Writing should be fun and outlines are most certainly not. I take the idea and run with it typing (would never consider using pad or pen to transfer my thoughts...yuck) like a fiend. Scenes flow out of my brain onto the white screen creating worlds of fun that I never thought would be possible. The shoplifting child and neglectful mom have turned into a pair of thieves who steal toys for other boys and girls who don't have it as nice. The Turnip Lady, well she's an alien come to steal all of the turnips on our planet (not a really horrible thought) to bring to her planet whose people will die without them. And the gangster? He's a mobster's wife's boy toy trying to arrange an assassination of the mobster. All good beginnings to stories that may intrigue.
The final step, after all thoughts, dialogue, imagery, action, etc. have been tossed into the wide blue yonder of your computer, is revision. Revision -- ugh! If I have an enemy to my writing it would have to be revision. Many writers enjoy it. Well, not me. But, there is no getting around this step in your writing. Stephen King says that he spends hours upon hours of each day revising. If he can do it then there should be no reason you or I couldn't do it. So, you have your story. It's sugary sweet and cradled in your arms. Get ready to take a match to it because no first draft is beyond annihilation. Not even one written by Stephen King. Read it out loud...DO NOT BYPASS THIS AT ALL! Reading it out loud brings forth problems you didn't see before. Then hand it off to other writers (ask them first...of course) and not just to one person (your mother). When your peers return your story there should be red, blue, and/or computer track changes marks every where. Say thank you...VERY IMPORTANT...don't disagree with your peers or try to explain where they had questions...if they had questions then you didn't clarify it in the story. If there were opposite reactions try to appease both sides and figure out why it was clear to one and not the other. And then after the revisions have been made and it's in second draft form send it to another set of peers. And then to another and then to another...this last step is the hardest and takes the longest to complete but it's the most fulfilling when the final draft is ready for submission.
Good luck, and happy writing!
The next step in writing? Well, transferring the idea to your computer microchip. I am a pantser. I don't do outlines. They're cumbersome to my writing. Writing should be fun and outlines are most certainly not. I take the idea and run with it typing (would never consider using pad or pen to transfer my thoughts...yuck) like a fiend. Scenes flow out of my brain onto the white screen creating worlds of fun that I never thought would be possible. The shoplifting child and neglectful mom have turned into a pair of thieves who steal toys for other boys and girls who don't have it as nice. The Turnip Lady, well she's an alien come to steal all of the turnips on our planet (not a really horrible thought) to bring to her planet whose people will die without them. And the gangster? He's a mobster's wife's boy toy trying to arrange an assassination of the mobster. All good beginnings to stories that may intrigue.
The final step, after all thoughts, dialogue, imagery, action, etc. have been tossed into the wide blue yonder of your computer, is revision. Revision -- ugh! If I have an enemy to my writing it would have to be revision. Many writers enjoy it. Well, not me. But, there is no getting around this step in your writing. Stephen King says that he spends hours upon hours of each day revising. If he can do it then there should be no reason you or I couldn't do it. So, you have your story. It's sugary sweet and cradled in your arms. Get ready to take a match to it because no first draft is beyond annihilation. Not even one written by Stephen King. Read it out loud...DO NOT BYPASS THIS AT ALL! Reading it out loud brings forth problems you didn't see before. Then hand it off to other writers (ask them first...of course) and not just to one person (your mother). When your peers return your story there should be red, blue, and/or computer track changes marks every where. Say thank you...VERY IMPORTANT...don't disagree with your peers or try to explain where they had questions...if they had questions then you didn't clarify it in the story. If there were opposite reactions try to appease both sides and figure out why it was clear to one and not the other. And then after the revisions have been made and it's in second draft form send it to another set of peers. And then to another and then to another...this last step is the hardest and takes the longest to complete but it's the most fulfilling when the final draft is ready for submission.
Good luck, and happy writing!
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