Inspiring Blogger Award

When I found out the other morning that I’d been nominated for a blog award, I realized it was just what I needed. Catsby—the kitty who appeared on our doorstep just two years ago—has been sick. The nice thing about adopting a senior kitty is that he arrived neutered and declawed, and with very nice manners. The bad thing about adopting a senior kitty is…this. Just the other day I was thinking how much I’ve grown to love the little guy. If you can spare a prayer for his comfort and ease, we’d sure appreciate it.

So this award has been a bright spot, as is the blogger who was kind and thoughtful enough to nominate me, Lisa Ricard Claro of Writing in the Buff. I’ve been a fan of hers since I first happened across her blog, oh, years ago now. She is a fierce spirit who captures that combination of strength and grace and warmth for which the quintessential Southern woman is known. Add to that her own brands of wit, wisdom, and cleverness, and she never fails to inspire me in the most delightful ways. Her posts make me think, but she adds deft touches of humor while never, ever allowing those naked truths to approach the bad kind of naked. In fact, they never cease to be art.

On to the Very Inspiring Blogger Award! The rules are these:

• Display the award on your blog

• Link back to the person who nominated you

• State 7 things about yourself

• Nominate 3 bloggers (I guess it was originally 15, but Lisa changed it and so am I), link to them, and notify them about their nominations.

1. The day before I was born, my mother—who apparently couldn’t see over her giant baby bump—tripped on the dog dish and broke her leg. It was after her due date, so when they took her to the hospital no one knew whether to put her on the maternity floor or the one for breaks. They couldn’t give her the pain medication necessary to set the leg, so they put her in traction and left her there, and then later discovered they couldn’t get her in the door to delivery because of the traction-contraption. When they gave her a spinal for the delivery, she was so overcome with relief that she flopped back and set her own leg.
2. There’s a congratulatory card tucked into my baby book that says, “At least it wasn’t two broken legs and twins.”
3. Supposedly my name means “trouble.”
4. Almost majored in earth science in college because it’s hard to make a living as a writer, and I did major in psychology for the first couple of years before switching to English. Have possibly spent more of my life trying not to be a writer than trying to be one. It’s just that every time I get away from it, I seem to be drawn back in.
5. Okay, I admit it: I’m a Downton Abbey fan. But now that this season just got over for those of us in the U.S., I’ve been awarded a new Sunday night love: The Last Man on Earth. I don’t want to like it, and I’m probably the only middle aged woman in the world who considers what is practically the antithesis of Downton Abbey to be a welcome replacement for the show, but so far (only two episodes in), I love it. Only don’t tell anyone, or they’ll cancel the show the way they do most of my favorites.
6. I’m a little creeped out by beards. I know it's weird, and heck, my own son has one, but still.
7. For some reason I attract: small children, large dogs, and the guy with the phlegmy cough on the bus who wants to tell me his life story.  Librarians love me—or maybe they love everyone and I’m just taking it too personally—and so do the clinically insane. Also spiders love me, or maybe hate me as I seem to get more spider bites than other people do. Oh, and I also attract men with beards.

Lisa Ricard Claro’s revised rules state that I need to nominate three bloggers. So I hereby nominate these women who always seem to inspire me:

• Lynn Obermoeller of Present Letters. I don’t know if she will accept the award, but I do know she just had an anniversary, so stop by and wish her well. Multitalented Lynn is a critiquer extraordinaire who inspires me often with her disarming honesty, her unwavering spirituality, and her writing that positively soars on wings.

• Donna Volkennant of Donna's Book Pub. Donna is a polished professional and a lovely human being. It doesn’t matter if I’m reading her work or meeting her at a writers’ group—I am always left feeling as if I’ve been in the presence of greatness. She truly is as gracious as she is talented and vice versa. Wow.

• Pat Wahler of Critter Alley. I don’t think Pat accepts awards, and I respect that. I’m nominating her anyway because I think of her blog as an inspiring treat. It has a clear, focused brand, top-quality pictures, and short, pithy prose. I don’t know her well, but every time I’ve talked to her, I leave thinking that she, too, has her own grace and style. She also just got published in Sasee. Congratulations, Pat!

Thank you again, Lisa!

But the thing you don’t realize is that there’s good naked and bad naked. Naked hair brushing, good. Naked crouching, bad.

~Seinfeld, The Apology, 1997

One Stop on the Writing Process Blog Tour: Where There Be Dragons

Many thanks to Sioux of Sioux’s Page for including me in The Writing Process blog tour! It was begun by Margo Dill, who passed it to the incredible Donna Volkenannt, who formerly took first place in the global humor category of the world famous Erma Bombeck Writing Competition and who this year won honorable mention in the global human interest category of that same contest. Sioux summed her up so well that I can’t add a thing except to say that everything Donna does and is has a kind of grace to it.

Donna then passed it to Sioux, who is a fierce spirit who can do pretty much anything (and then act later like it was nothing at all). Her wit is of course sharply, impishly wicked-clever, but it’s tempered by such generosity, kindness, and modesty that both she and her art are hewn into legend itself. As if that weren’t enough, she is a 2014 winner of the Saint Louis production of the national Listen to Your Mother event and will perform May 10 (YES, she performs, too) at the St. Luke’s Institute for Health Education at 10 a.m. and 2 p.m.

So here were the Writing Process blog tour questions:

What am I working on?

A young adult novel. Also some other stuff, such as possible submissions to various upcoming Chicken Soup for the Soul titles. 

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I’m not going to answer this question exactly the way it was intended. Instead, I’ll say that my last creative nonfiction piece differed in that it turned out not to be the piece I wanted it to be. Sad, but true. I don’t think bad early drafts necessarily make us bad writers. I think not knowing they are bad does. That’s why I think a lot of writers perpetually do battle with both sides of that most fearsome of two-headed dragons: self-assurance vs. self-doubt. We’re led to believe that self-assurance is everything, but it can only get us so far. If it takes over too much, we’re liable to write stuff that isn’t our best. But when the latter rears its ugly head, the piece is in danger of never getting written in the first place. Odd that it doesn’t matter if someone accepts the piece or not—somewhere deep down we have to know it’s the best we could do, and it’s only when I’ve reached that point that I feel like I’ve slain the dragon. The greatest weapon in this battle is objectivity, which is why an honest critique group helps so enormously. Sometimes there’s only so much they can do, however, so some pieces are better left to sit a while. The aforementioned piece turned out not to be appropriate for the publication I had in mind, for example, so I may put it away to marinate. Sioux is so generous of spirit that she says things fall out of me. They don’t. They do often fall out of an old file where they’ve been marinating—and sometimes pickling—for a long time. The irony! Sometimes if I can forget the piece enough, I can later read it from the most objective place possible.

Why do I write what I do?

I try to capture a message that’s important to me, and I try to capture it in a way that I hope will somehow resonate with others. I think people who are interested in any kind of art in the first place have a need to make sense of the world. 

How does your writing process work?

Usually I have an idea of both the beginning and end before I ever get started, and writing is the process of making the journey. Being able to make the journey at a time when I can lose myself in it to the point that it feels like it takes over and writes itself is, of course, the eternal goal. And the confoundingly tricky part for me.

Time to pass this illustrious award to:

Lynn Obermoeller of Present Letters. 

Lynn is one of those other people who can do just about anything and make it look effortless. She is also incredibly gracious. She is a deeply conscious and fearless soul who never hides behind pretense. (Why do I keep envisioning knight imagery?) She is disarmingly honest, and it’s that very quality that makes her characters complex, fascinating and delightfully vivid. She is also a whiz at plotting.

Lisa Ricard Claro of Writing in the Buff. 

I’ve never met Lisa in person, but her blog and writing are first rate. She blends wisdom and warmth with incredible grace. Her clever wit is legendary. She does a wonderful job of walking the line between being approachable and being the soul of professionalism. I can’t wait to read her upcoming book.

Thank you again, Sioux!

If you are not discouraged about your writing on a regular basis, you may not be trying hard enough.  Any challenging pursuit will encounter frequent patches of frustration.  Writing is nothing if not challenging. ~Maxwell Perkins, editor

And, in honor of World Down Syndrome Day, here is a conversation I overhead at Target between a young male employee with Down Syndrome who puts carts away and his male boss:

Employee (after the boss said he was going home soon): Don’t forget to hug me before you go!

Boss: Well come here and let’s hug you right now, then!