Tag: writing

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another 7 quick takes

Check out the collection of other 7 Quick Takes Friday posts, hosted at Jennifer Fulwiler’s blog, Conversion Diary. 

–1–

So many things have happened this past week that I had to sit down and just breathe deeply and go, “Wow, Momma Mary, you’ve been busy untying some knots. Thank you.” Some of it is deeply personal, and much of it is just about good things coming together for the family…and while I’m not going to go into details, mostly because they aren’t my stories to tell, I can say that my visit to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament today is going to be a lovely chat full of gratitude. Amen.

–2–

I’m getting excited about the CNMC this year in Dallas/Fort Worth! Are you going? Are you a blogger and want to present? Check this out!

–3–

I am doing a total consecration to Jesus through Mary on the Feast of the Annunciation. Would y’all pray for me? And I will pray for you, though I do that already 🙂

–4–

I’m toying with the idea of joining Pinterest. If I hide that revelation in here, maybe no one will notice I said it.

–5–

The pollen is not my friend. Usually, it affects my eyes and and sinuses, but this year it has messed big time with my lungs and my ears. I feel like a giant vice is crushing my chest when I go outside, and inexplicably, my ears itch — bad enough for me to want to stick a skewer in them. Yeah. How’s that for an image?

–6–

Do you keep a journal? I’ve kept one on and off throughout my life, starting, I think, in the fourth grade. That was a little locked diary…today it’s whatever I happen to like when I need one. Sometimes it means using a discarded composition notebook, and other times it’s pretty journals given as gifts. When I buy one, it’s usually this style on the top, with a rubber band so I can keep prayer cards and mementos stuffed in it. I don’t fill it with Mentos, though.

–7–

I joined the Son Rise Morning Show brackets for March madness. The only bracket that looks like it ought to look. I won’t show you the mess I made of everything else, but I didn’t delete my failed Missouri pick ;-P

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on the road

I drove home a little distracted by the conversation I was having with myself. I do that a lot. Have conversations with myself. I finally decided to do something productive with it, and started to dictate stuff to myself. Who knows? Maybe the only thing keeping me from writing the great American novel is finding the right undergrad needing money and willing to transcribe my madness.

But I digress.

I was talking about my drive home in a distracted state. Yes. Distraction. It plagues me when my To-Do list sprouts To-Do lists. And that’s when the little artist voice inside me decides to come out and play. When I don’t have the time or the attention span to dedicate to it. Because the grown up voice with the job and the bills and the familial responsibilities says it’s time to be a grown-up.

The real me wants to play with words, and I’m not talking about that neat little scrabble knock-off that consumes my phone battery. I want to write, and it seems that everywhere I look there is something I want to capture. Especially on my ride home, when I’m supposed to have both hands on the wheel.

What do you do when you have the need to create?

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manic…monday?

I’ve had a manic writing period these past 2 weeks. It’s been pretty unusual to say the least. Ordinarily my avoidance behaviors lead me in other directions, away from writing. I guess my word tank finally filled up. I’m not going to try to figure it out, I’m just going to ride this wave until it washes ashore — no doubt leaving me in the sand covered in seaweed and sand lice. I’ll live with that when the moment comes. Until then, I feel like the Silver Surfer.

It does kind of wreak havoc with my personality, though. I wouldn’t call it a depression because it doesn’t make me sad — more like subdued. It just ZAPS my energy. Geez. Why couldn’t this be easy?

I once saw an interview with Barbara Cartland, the prolific writer of hundreds of romance novels — the ones with Fabio on the cover! The interview was in her boudoir and she was draped across a chaise lounge. For real! She admitted to writing the same story over and over, selecting the characters and settings from rolodexes of possibilities. I admire her chutzpah for admitting as much. Hilarious, if you ask me. I mean, this feisty old broad is a far cry from the stereotype of the  long-suffering writer.

I also happened to catch an interview with Jackie Collins, another prolific writer — and interesting character. When I first saw her talking about her office and her work ethic, I had to chuckle a little. She writes from a large table in a well-lit room, in a scrapbook-like notebook where she hand-writes her manuscript.

Teehee. Hand-writes her manuscript. Hand writes. Get it? Manu-script.

I never thought I’d have something in common with Jackie Collins. It turns out that some of my best writing happens, not on my fancy schmancy computer, but on notebook paper using a #2 pencil. I can’t even claim to use a fancy pen.

There’s just something about hearing the scratch of the lead on paper.

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