Family, Real Life, Short story, Travel, Writing

Be it ever so humble …

First, I want to thank all who took the time to read my short story, “Perchance to Dream“. I didn’t mean to leave that post up so long. I had hoped to publish a new one this past Sunday, but during my time spent in Indiana, I had even less internet access than I thought I would. I returned to my Pacific Time home yesterday afternoon, exhausted, and went to bed still on Eastern Time. After ten hours sleep, I feel almost normal. So I’m up before dawn writing this post.

Today’s photo is of my son and his grandmother (my mother), taken after his doctoral commencement at Ball State University. That ceremony was the highlight of my trip, of course. The next day, we had a big Syrian dinner with my husband’s family where both the wine and conversation flowed like water. Most of my time away, I spent with my mother and two sisters in the home we moved into when I was fifteen.

It’s always a weird experience when you return to a place that never changes. No, my mother hasn’t kept everything the same since the late 60’s, but the décor in La Maison de Cassidy, for the most part, has not changed since the 80’s. Every mirror where I checked my hair, makeup, and clothes on high school mornings and before weekend dates still hangs where it did then. Unfortunately, I look completely different in them now.

Okay, it’s now over three hours later and I still haven’t finished this post. Life intervened. But what’s life without life? I do have a few writing-related things on my mind, so expect a bit more meat next time.

… there’s no place like home.

Family, My Books, Real Life, Social Media, Writing

If life hands you a lemon … just whine on your blog!

In the midst of writing a thoughtful post pondering why we write fiction, I answered my own question, rendering the post moot. So now, I’m writing a ten-minute free-write glimpse into my mind and hoping it doesn’t result in someone calling for the butterfly net. Okay, go!

I am afraid to write my next book. I spend just about as much time talking myself out of it as I do writing it. It’s not because I think Brevity is so fabulous that I can’t hope the next one will live up to it. I think it’s more that I fear Brevity is as good as I can write. And yet—and I think I said this to someone once—how will I know unless I try? ‘Tis a conundrum.

The other day, I saw someone on Twitter, or maybe Facebook, bemoan that they were too old to still be getting zits. I feel that way about a lot of things. I’m too old to be so socially awkward. I’m too old to be so indecisive. I’m too old to be such a … wimp. That’s what I feel like. Grow up, already!

I haven’t been back to Indiana since my father died five years ago today. I will be going there next week, and I’m reluctant. I think, in some tiny corner of my mind, I like to believe he’s still there. Plus, my mother’s health has deteriorated since he died and the last time she came here to visit, and I don’t want to face that. I’m a coward. But my youngest son will be receiving his PhD at Ball State, so go I will.

How maudlin. Let’s move on.

Everyone on Twitter is talking about Google+ … except me. You had to be invited to join. My invitation got lost in the email, I guess.* Or maybe it’s just for Blogspot bloggers. People are setting up circles, apparently. The rumor is, circles will replace Facebook … or is it Twitter? … or both? I will probably never know. I think I’m a square.

But really, do I need more social networking? I said to someone this morning … or was that yesterday … that I feel like I’m whirling around constantly and I expect to pass myself eventually. I probably won’t recognize me, though. I still think I’m young and thin and look like I have a clue.

Time’s up. Now I have to figure out what sort of illustration will fit this bizarre post.

If you can find anything above to comment on … have at it. Please.

*Shortly after I wrote this, I received an invitation to join Google+ … now, will someone explain the circle thing to me?