Life Goes On

Well, it has been a week since my life changed. I'm ok, still a little emotionally and spiritually numb, but I'm making it. In order to maintain peace, I was encouraged to eat crow, cowtow and reinstate the status quo.

Fine.

So what now? Take it as long as I can before I explode. See I am a tad bit passive aggressive. I hold shit in, and then I burst. So one day, they will look up and I will be gone. I shared this with my best friend (since high school). "I will tell them why you left," she laughed. I laughed with her. It is all very ridiculous. It is time for me to leave. I will return one day, but I do need to but some miles between us for awhile.

It is strange. I am not angry. I am a little afraid, but overall, I'm ok. Who wants to loose their family? But they did not choose me, so why am I concerned? I feel strangely at peace about it all. It will resolve itself according to God's will. I know that my time here is short. Soon, I will be free. Not sure how (hmm, be careful what you ask for) but I would pray that God would not devastate our lives.

I just want to be free, that's all. I want to be happy. You know, I have never been happy? I think that the last time I was happy was in 5th grade. Yes, I was happy in 5th grade and the first few weeks of 6th grade, before transfering to a new school. I have not been happy since. I would be nice to be happy again.

Concede

Last night, I went home and apologized. Do I believe that I am wrong? No. I won't go into it, but sometimes we just need to bite our tongues and eat crow to make peace in the house. That is what I had to do. Do I feel better? No. But it does not matter. Everyone else is happy.

Although I read my horoscope daily, I fail to read my Bible verse of the day (backslider). I am a brat with my Brother. Sometimes I feel that He has forgotten me, when it is I who has turned my back on Him. So Jesus, I am sorry for being a bitch. I guess that I am tired of always having to settle and concede. But You did it for us willingly. So who am I? Am I better than You now? Don't thinka so. So I apologize for behaving with You as other members of my family have treated me. I am no better.

Oh. So anyway, I read my bible verse for today (www.biblegateway.com):

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”- Jeremiah 29:11

God is funny. Even after I have been a drunken chain smokin, cussin, selfish, fist fighting bitch, he would still consider me? Well, maybe he is talking to someone else. I don't deserve it.

But what if he would consider me? After so many years of suffering, would he remember me? Why would you? There are people out there who have endured and suffered far worse and have maintained an exceptional level of hope and faith in You. I cannot stomach attending church. I will attend Mass from time to time. Why would you consider an ungrateful, jelly backed bitch like me?

But I would be forever grateful if you did. ;-) For only You can release me.

Surrender

I thought it over. I am wrong.

I have not put my family first, seeking to satisfy my own needs and desires. But it is not about me, but the family. I must work with them to overcome obstacles and shortfalls. So, I yield to what the family has decided is right and wrong. I will stop being selfish.

I am selfish, you know. I drink too much and it effects the bottom line. I just enjoyed hanging out after work with 'normal folk.' I guess that everyone has their problems though. In any case, stopping off after work is taking me away from my family. Alcohol makes me complacent. It enables me to live in another realm, where I can experience my dreams without ever doing so in the present. I do not question what is going on around me. I accept all. That is probably why I got out of control. I woke up from my stupor (I have not had the money to drink, gotta pay the bills) and I began to think. I began to add up the expenses and charges. I began to remember the past and how I was treated. I got mad. I am wrong. Now, I must learn not to be selfish with the aid of alcohol. My parents are distressed by my drinking. I don't come home drunk every day(at least I do not believe so, but I am probably wrong about that too) but I guess they can tell that I've had a few and they don't like it. So when everything exploded, my drinking was blamed. It was 7am, and I was not drunk. I had two beers the night before. In any case, it was the perfect time to point out that stopping off everyday was a problem for everyone in the family.

So I will surrender my only comfort. I will surrender smoking too. You say, 'Hey smoking kills.' Not fast enough! LOL Just joking. You are right. It is an expensive and painful way to die. I will stop. I must buck up and endure the pain of life as does everyone else.

In any case, it is time to go home and help around the house, helping my family to complete any needed tasks. It would save a lot of money too, which I can give to them, were it would be better utilized. It is time to grow up and put away childish things. I cannot do what others do. I have responsibilities and it is time that I accept them and deal with them. Instead of giving all of my attention to my dreams and worthless non-paying projects, I must give my attention to my family, address their needs and concerns. I must learn to be a part of the community. I must do what community deems as prudient.

I will no longer go into the office on the weekends. It was an escape for me I suppose, sheltering me from the everything going on at home. I would come in and finish up items that I could not get to during the week. It was also my time to work on my writing. But as my sister told me, it is a waste of time and energy, working on books that no would ever read or have an interest in reading. I originally believed that she resented it because it took the focus off of her. I'm not very chatty while writing. But after thinking it over, she is right. When I write, I do not focus on my responsibilites, attend to household tasks, interact with others. I just sit at my laptop and write. It is all vanity and ego. It is pointless. So I will put them away. I will let it go.

I have wasted the past 3 years of my life on nothing. I always fall into traps such as these. In 2003, I believe that God had called me for some special purpose. I quit my job and followed Him. I became fanatical. I believe that God would come and save me from my life. I would stand in the window watching for Him. What did my sister remind me of? Oh yes. I believe that God would send limo's to gather us up, to save us from our foreclosed building. Never happened. Hmph. We would not have required saving if my fool ass had not of quit my job. We could have made it if I had not allowed my sister to convince me to evict the tenants (she could not stand hearing them walking around upstairs and a variety of other infractions they committed). But as always, she was just and right in her decision. It is pointless. It is in the past anyway. I only have today.

Life is not about living dreams, but doing what is required to help those around you. Our only value is what we are doing for others right now and what we can do in the future. It is all about giving. Giving is the only thing that matters. It is Godlike to give. There is no past or future, only now. Our only worth is what we have to give in the now. So, I surrender my dreams. They do not come to pass anyway. They were only just a vehicle to convince me to live another day. A little mental entertainment before going asleep at night.

The future seems exciting. I now understand what is required and can execute it. No more misconceptions or false hopes. No more ego. Now I understand what I must do and I accept it.

Finished

I am finished on so many levels. The first is with about the 10th edit of the newly named La Rose (formally La Fleur). I guess that the book is ok. I like it. It is long. I was recently told during an argument with a family member that no one would ever read it, mainly because no one is interested. Perhaps it is true. Nevertheless, it means something to me. A friend has read a previous version which contains both books (or volumes). She liked it quite a bit. She is brutally honest person, so if she did not like it, she would have stopped after the first 10 pages. I will accept her testimony.

It is funny. Those closest to you have the least faith in you and what you're working on, your passion. This one person in particular resents it (and nearly all that I do) because it takes attention away from them. If I am writing, it is a solitary task, leaving little time for socializing. With the recent events, I believe that I have chosen wisely. It is good that I did not waste my time with them.

With that being said, I am finished with my relationship with this person. I can no longer stroke them and make them them focus of my life. Sadly, when I stood up for myself with them (which I rarely do) they did not hesitate to demonstrate to me how little I actually mean to them. Other family members wish for us to reconcile, but I have no desire to do so at this time. In fact, they took their side, imply that drinking spurred my actions. I was not drunk. In fact, I have been sober (at least for me) for some time now. If I had been properly medicated, I would never have had the courage to stand up to them. Sometimes things happen for the best. I believe that this is one of those instances.

So now, it is just me and my writing. Everyone has left the office for the evening, off to enjoy themselves. I will sit here for awhile, read and then head out to a friends to sleep.

I am not sad, but I am. I am not depressed. I am angry. These feelings shall pass. Maybe I am wrong. Probably so, since the other party is ALWAYS right, even when they know that they are wrong, skillfully spinning the facts to justify themselves, conveniently forgetting information that disputes their point. I have seen them do it to so many of our other friends and acquaintances over the years. Now it is my turn. Did I believe that I was above the law? Not really. I knew in my heart that this day would come.

Yes, I am free from their tryanny. It is time to walk out into the unknown.

Home

I would rather go almost anywhere but there. But, it is time to leave work. My father has already called to see where I am. I wish that they would just let me come home on my own.

Short leash.

Sweet Potato Pie and Nachos

Last week, my father brought damn near a bushel of these humongous sweet potatoes. When I came in from work on Thursday, he told me about them. I could see where the conversation was headed. "Hey, if you have some time this weekend, you mind makin' me some pies?"

Not that cooking is ever the highlight of my day, but how could I resist a request from my Daddy? "Nope. Not a problem," I smiled.

So, early Sunday morning, while everyone else attended church (as I should have) I threw 5 prehistoric size potatoes into the pot to boil them. Gee whiz, it took over an hour for them to soften. When Mama and Daddy came in from church, he smiled. "What are you up to in here?"

"I thought that you wanted some pies?"

"Alright, alright!" he grinned, returning to his bedroom.

"I had a feeling while in church that you were going to start on those pies. How did you find the potatoes?" Ma asked me.

"I don't know. I found them yesterday while looking for something else."

So after hunting and pecking around for about 45 minutes I finally gathered together all of my ingredients. I barely had enough vanilla flavoring. I grew irritated when it came time to make the pie crust. We had neither lard nor shortening. "My crusts are going to be tough," I sighed. But I decided to make due with what I had. Once I added the water to flour and butter mixture, I knew then. The dough was not as soft and fluffy as I would have liked, but it would be ok. I assessed the finished ball of dough. "Ma, this is not enough to make four crusts."

"That is plenty. You make your pie crusts too thick anyway. I like a thin crust."

I frowned as she walked away. Ma likes her pies on crackers. I wrapped the dough in foil and placed it in the refrigerator to rest.

"What are you making Auntie?" my niece asked, bouncing into the kitchen from church.

"Sweet potato pies for Grandpa."

"Ooh!" She stuck her fingers into the mixture.

"Wash your hands!" My sister yelled at her. She rushed to the sink, washed up and resumed her task of licking the beaters dry.

Although I try to avoid cooking at all costs, the pies came out pretty good. Even my sister ate a piece. She hates sweet potato pie.

"I'm making nachos for Jordan. Do you want some?"

"Hecky yeah!"

"Good. You can help me fry them."

Damn! I had been hoodwinked. As my mother reclined at the kitchen table reading the paper, my sister and I set about the task of making nacho chips. I fried them as my sister balled up the dough and then flattened it with the cast iron skillet, cutting them into triangles. 1 1/2 hours later, chips overflowed the cookie sheet.

"I wonder how's Daddy's wine is coming along?"

"Good!" Dee said. She went and got the big pail of fermenting wine, scooping out a few cups, mashing the grapes, its nectar escaping. "I'll put the 'yum yum' back in."

"Just give me the wine," I said, holding out my glass. My mother swooped in, taking the freshly harvested wine and pouring some into an old barbecue sauce bottle. She put it in the freezer. "Hey, who is that for?"

"Your Father."

"How come he gets a whole bottle and I just get a little glass?" She ignored me as she poured yet another glass for my father and one for herself. "Dang, now we're gonna hafta dip some more," I whined.

"Stop being a lush. Besides, drinking too much wine will make you fat," she said as she returned from the family room, retaking her throne at the kitchen table and reading the paper. I think that she gets off on watching my sister and me cook. I know that I would. The tastiest meals are always the ones that you don't have to prepare. "Ooow!" Grease popped me.

I saw a little hand stealthily move out of the corner of my eye. "Jordan, stop stealing chips!" She giggled, running to the protective custody of Grandpa. He was not in the mood to provide sanctuary, for her squeals broke his concentration on the Bears game. "Whoa Jay! Stop all that hollerin'! What are you all doing to her in there?"

"Nothin' Daddy. She's in here stealing chips!" I told him.

"Leave her alone." Jordan returned to the kitchen and made a face of me, letting me know that she had bested me yet again. I lunged for her.

"Leave her alone Claudia! You're going to get her in trouble with Grandpa," my mother scolded me. "Come here Jor." She melted into her grandmother's arms, stopping just short of sticking her tongue out at me.

"Grandma?"

"Yes baby?"

"Do I have to eat the broken chips?"

"What?"

"Auntie said that she's gonna give me all of the little broken chips. I want some big chips too!"

"What? Give her some big chips."

"Ma, I said no such thing!" I fumed. "I'm gonna git you little girl. Your day of reckoning is fast approaching. Once you turn twelve and start doing things that you have no business doing, Auntie will have her due!" Leaning back against the sink as the nachos browned, I smiled pondering the glory of it all.

"Yes, those will be days... My shoes will be polished, my clothes ironed and pressed to perfection. You will wash my car and clean my room. And depending on the seriousness of your infraction, Auntie may even convince you that it would be in your best interest to surrender your allowance." Jordan looked at me, confused. "Oh, you do not understand now, but you will. I'm going to catch you doing everything that you have no business doing. If you don't want me to tell your Mama, you will certainly opt to accept many of the settlement plans that Auntie will present to you at that time."

"Your going to hide her sins from me?" D'mona asked, amazed.

"For the right price, yes."

"Stop blackmailing her Claudia!" Grandma snuggled her close. Jordan primed her crocodile tears. "Pay no attention to Auntie. She will do no such thing." Jordan sneered at me in victory. Leaving Grandma's arms, Jordan passed her little fist before each eye, threatening to blacken each of mine. She grabbed two chips and ran into her bedroom. I ran after her little tail. She had it coming.

"Claudia, I said leave her alone!" Mama said, rising from the chair.

I ran into the family room seeking refuge in my Daddy's arms. "Bobbie, leave her alone. Dawg! What are ya'll doin' in there? It's the fourth quarter!" I made a face at Ma. She walked away.

There is always a higher court.

Saturday

Another Saturday of hanging out at the office, editing the novel. I need a second job. I am not making it on my salary. I detest not having money to at least go out. Once again, a few days before payday I am flat broke. I cannot do this anymore.

But otherwise I am in a decent mood, isolating myself from others who are not. I need to figure out what to do. I know what I should do, but I do not have the heart to do so. I must figure out a way to free myself. I have to be free. I have been locked down for so long. I would like to travel, have a place of my own, perhaps even move to another city or country. But how can I?

Well, I will return to work, escaping into the world of my characters.

2012

I just saw the trailers for the new movie, 2012. I'll be damned if it was not a scene out of the final novel of my chronicles, Le Baton. In the trailer, a man races his home to save his family from he end time destruction, driving them to the landing strip, taking off as the earth engulfs Los Angeles. Wow. In my story, it is New Orleans, along with much of the Midwest which is destroyed, in order to consume Le Baton. In my story, it occurs in 2010. A little different, similar premise. Plagiarism but not.

I have spent the last few years of my life telling a story that has already been told. What was the point? Once again, I come up short with nothing to show for my efforts. It is all pointless.

Better Day

I am finally beginning to come out on the other side. Although a little irritated when leaving home this morning, my agnst has dissipated. Hopelessness is departing. Don't get me wrong, nothing has changed. Still bored, broke and frustrated. However I am hopeful today. I think that the sermon and the word that I received yesterday truly helped me.

I just wish to thank everyone who has prayed for and supported me over the past week. I still have a way to go, but at least I am better for today.

Charles Blanton

I would like to begin by extending my condolences to Raquel Blanton and her family concerning the loss of her Father, Charles Blanton. He was a longtime employee and union man for Electric Motors, since 1969 I believe. But more importantly, Mr. Blanton was a good man, a true provider, father, lover and friend. Raquel and I would always muse that God did not make men like our fathers anymore, who believed in taking care of home and raising families. But I suspect that there are few golden nuggets out there within our own generation, but I fear that they all may have been snatched up!

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."
Matthew 5: 4

In any case, God rest your soul Mr. Blanton. Raquel, our prayers are with you and your entire family. The pastor gave a great eulogy for Mr. Blanton, honoring him while inspiring the living. Dare I say hope is trying to take ahold of me? What is this old soul coming to?

Anyhow, Mr. Blanton enjoyed wrestling. His love for the sport brought reminded pastor of Jacob wrestling with 'a man' all night until he blessed him (Genesis 32:24-32). Although 'the man' crippled his thigh, Jacob continued to hold to him, holding on to hope and faith. Finally, Jacob surrendered to his hope and faith, no longer struggling and wrestling. It was then that God blessed him. Mr. Blanton wrestled to the very end, overcoming Cancer and Diabetes. Although he surrendered to pnemonia, he wrestled to the end, refusing to let go until God blessed him and his family. Raquel I spoke about the moment he gave up(without realizing it), receiving the blessing that he had been waiting on for so long. Once God granted it to him, he let go, surrendering to the Peace, Comfort and Love of Christ.

I should take a note from Jacob and Mr. Blanton.

And to Mr. J Marshall who overheard me griping on the bus to my friends, thank you for the word that you gave me today. I will hold God to his promise. Wow, spooky. Kinda ties into the whole Jacob message. OK... Wow. God, did you really hear me in my time of despair, sending your angel to laugh with me and comfort me? Really folks, he told me to 'hold God to his promise' to make him accountable for what He promised me.

I've been down so long, I am not sure what He promised me anymore.

I do remember He promised a Love for me. A Son for me.

He promised a home for me.

He promised to save me.

He may have promised a ministry for me, but I was not real interested in becoming a preacher. I am sure that I blacked that part out. LOL

Mr Marshall, thanks for sitting in front of me and enduring my foul language today. I praise God that He brought you out of your valley within 6 months.

Perhaps I should lose the bitterness and anger and surrender to God, to hope and faith once more.

Stepping Back from the Edge

I have rallied my resolve to go on. Sorry for trippin' out, but I just could not take it anymore. I am still fighting the urge to skip paying all bills, buying my own laptop and then buying a train ticket to parts unknown, but I know that I do not have the guts to do it.

Besides, I love my family. They are all that I have, the only people in the world who truly love me and have always been there for me. After awhile, I would miss them! I just need some time away, to get my thoughts and plans together... To write... Goodness gracious to get some sleep. I need sleep in a quiet peaceful enviroment. If I could get three days of rest, that would help tremendously.

So today, I won't bitch (although I could). I will bitch another day.

On Saturday, I finished my review of probably 85% of Resurrection. I like it. I just need some quality time to finish it, as with all of the novels. Gee whiz, ideals are just bouncing around in my head and I do not have the time to right them down. I need to finish up the first book, La Rose. It overwhelms me. I cannot tie it all together. But now that I have taken a break, perhaps I can.

Lyric Opera

I'm in the office today, working on one of my novels. Well, making changes. I decided to take a break to go outside and pollute my lungs.

While sitting there, I noticed that there was quite a bit of traffic. A people watcher, I began to notice couples walk by in their finery. Looking south to Washington and Wacker, I spotted three ladies, in the glory of their youth, posing for a photograph. One adorned a beautiful red gown.

I always envisioned myself in red.

Looking about, I found a woman walking with her with her husband, dapper in his tuxedo. She flaunted about in lavender.

"What is happening?" I asked myself. I reviewed my internal calendar. Fourth Saturday of September. I understood. Tonight is the opening night at the Lyric Opera, here in Chicago. Drew, one of my drinking buddies who constructs the sets there, had not even mentioned it. I guess that he did not know that I cared.

Another year has passed and I did not make it there. I always dreamed of attending the opening night performance, and then joining all for the ball which immediately follows. I dream of attending with my love, attired in a deep red velvet dress, mingling... Lela attended the opening night performance of La Traviata in Paris, in my novel. I wonder what will be the performance for this evening? Funny, I did not even think of it until now, once seeing the patrons. I guess that I have been consumed with other more pressing issues.

So now I have returned to my desk, listening to 'I Who Have Nothing' by Sylvester. I'm going to take a nap and then catch my train. I had planned to get on the 6:40, but I cannot face my family right now. I'm tired. Life is passing me by.

Heartache

Yes, that's right folks. There is nothing like a old fool. I never learn, continuing to make the same mistakes over and over. I know better than to take an interest in anyone, well you know a romantic interest. But alas, I did. My friends kept saying that he liked me. I told them no he did not. I was right, as always.

I am just lonely, I suppose. I have learned not to look at any man. I am not sure how I even saw this guy. Well, I guess that I do. In any case, I should know better by now. I know I continue to repeat myself, I guess it is symptomatic of my life in general.

I feel a sinking in the pit of my stomach, thinking of the weekend. I wish that I could skip weekends. It is harder for me to get out. I am tired. I wish that I had somewhere to go asleep. I want to get pissy drunk and pass out, but I cannot. I got to go back to my parents. Can't stay out too late, because they will wait up until I come home. They lock the house down. Then I must endure questions tomorrow about how I'm feeling. I don't know, how do you think I feel? I feel like shit, but I have to keep moving.

So tomorrow, I will come downtown and hang out at the office, working on my book as I have done every weekend since getting kicked out. I don't have any money, so what else can I do? I am grateful that I at least have this place to crash. Then I will go home. Then I will be awakened at 6 am on Sunday. I will sit in the house all day with my family. Then Monday will arrive and I can come back to work, just to repeat the same sad, mundane circle again. It never ends. I feel like sitting here at my desk and screaming until I loose my voice. I feel like crying. Neither would do any good. I will go and have a few drinks and suck it up.

I just wish that it would all end. I am tired.

Auto pilot

Dare I say that I feel better today? Depression is weird, once you're in it, you don't want to let it go. But I am not depressed, just tired, desperately in need of a vacation. I spent some time yesterday checking out vacation hot spots in Paris, Brussels, Seychelles, Mauritius, and other locales around the world. Unless God opens up the floodgates and rain some financial blessings down on me, there is NO WAY I can visit these spots anytime soon. But I did take some comfort just looking at the pictures and dreaming of what it is like to live such a life.

Can you imagine it? A life with no financial concerns? One has money all of the time instead of finding their checking account on empty with payday more than 7 days away? Not living on credit, but on actual money... on wealth? What is it like to receive a bill in the mail and not have to figure out how to pay? One simply sits at their desk and writes the check. No worries about miscalculating the balance in the account, thus causing the check to bounce to high heaven. Just write the check and don't worry about it again. Go to the grocery store and stock up. Go out to dinner with friends, choosing whatever you desire to eat from the menu. Picking up and jaunting out of town for the weekend. Going on worldwind tours. Living life without boundries.

It is a nice dream. But in my case, I must figure out how to make the little money that I have left stretch for two weeks. This sh*t is a drag.

But even while I continue to b*tch, I still manage to do some work on La Rose. It is never ending as well. Maybe I need a break from it. But what else would I do? I am just irritated because I am at a part in the story that I do not enjoy. The characters are enduring some unbelievably bad times right now and things will only get worst before they get any better. Kinda like life itself huh? But things do eventurally improve. It will take about 30 years though.

Yeah, I'm not in the mood to edit this part right now. I think that I will work on Resurrection for awhile and watch Julian be an as*hole.

B*tch and Moan - Day 2

I just got my boss off to the airport. It has been a busy day full of scheduling, screwing up the schedule, fixing the schedule, editing docs, getting breakfast. I'm pooped.

I got paid today. Rather, everyone I owe money to got paid today. I'm broke again.

I really need something new and exciting in my life. Sure, stuff happens to me, but it is usually not enjoyable. I try to make myself and others around me happy by telling jokes and goofing off, but even that is getting old. I have nothing left to give. I realized on the train ride in that I have nothing to look forward to in life... I just work and pay bills. There is nothing tangible to anticipate. Folks around me plan trips and such. I plan them too, simply for other people. Since I cannot live my own dreams, I live vicariously through others.

I dream of having a nice quiet place of my own, to sleep in my own bed, to get up in the morning at my leisure. I am grateful to have somewhere to stay. I guess that I just want my life back. No, I want a better life than what I had before.

In any case, I have plenty to be thankful for. I have a job and I have a place to stay. Most of all, I have somewhere to escape to. The novels are my private little world, watching as Lela navigate the ups and downs of her world. Not that Lela's life is so great (much of it stinks) but I enjoy Beatrice's life (Lela reincarnated, current times). Once Bea meets Octavius, her life definitely takes the turn for the better, that's for sure! I always dream of meeting my Octavius. Wouldn't it be nice to dream up those whom we wish to meet? I guess that we do on some level. I always believed that writers channel souls from other times in space, giving them a voice here in our world.

In any case, I need to get back to work. My lunch break (yes, it's late today) is nearly over. I must finish auditing my bosses expenses and set up book meeting space for them in Florida.

Purgatory

After a couple of weeks passing, I decided to make a post. Not that I have anything new to disclose, but I just felt that I should post something.

Life has been somewhat depressing for me. I have no money, but fortunately I get paid tomorrow. Rest assured that I will be broke by Friday. I have too many bills to pay, many of them not my own. But I thank the Lord that he has provided me with the means to pay them.

My life is the same everyday. I have nothing to look forward to. I find myself unwilling to hope in change. I am ashamed, for there are people in this world who truly suffer and I am glad to say that I am not one of them. I guess that I have been disappointed so much, that I do not wish to believe in impossible dreams. False hope is a killer. Why set myself up for disappointment? What will be will be.

I continue to work on the novel. It is ok. It is way too long, yet again. I have even given up, well that is a strong word, let us say emotionally disconnected myself from it. I have accepted that no one would be willing to take on a work of this size. I am not the best salesperson in the world, that's for sure. So like many other projects close to my heart, I have resolved that the only one who will ever enjoy these books is me.

Kind of sounds like a pity party, huh? Not really. This is where I am today. I just have the whole 'fuck it' attitude, simply grateful that I have a job, a place to sleep and a story to dream of. I don't see the point in fighting anymore, in believing that everything will work out fine.

I do dream of my characters quite a bit, even now. Only my characters comfort me in my loneliness. I have no one to cry to but them.

Maybe that is my problem. I am lonely and now it is starting to seep into all areas of my life. Well, I know this to be the source of my agnst. But who would want me now, all broken down... I have nothing to offer anyone right now. I have no home, no money, kinda overweight, kinda wierd, kinda abrupt in my actions, hot and cold. Who wants to deal with that?

Well, I will check back in, maybe in about a week or so. Hopefully, my indifference will have passed. However, I do not expect that to be the case.

Letting Go

Over the Labor Day weekend I did a little work on the novel, adding another two chapters. Oye. What am I trying to achieve here? I'm not quite sure anymore. I am rounding out the story. That is it. But can there be too much 'rounding?' For real.... If I told everything, this book would be over 2,000 pages. So, I am only trying to include information that will... I don't know. Just going on gut instinct here.

I wish that I could go somewhere for about a month (minimum two weeks) where I can just focus on the novel. Writing after work and on weekends is not working at this point. I really need to assess what I have here. I find it difficult to do. I am exhausted, distracted and stressed out. These factors are making it very difficult for me to tell this story in a concise matter. I really just need a good night's rest. I think that would help me in several areas of my life.

New Life

After splitting La Fleur in two, I am finding that it is taking on a new life of its own. There is more explanation as to what is going on, instead of allowing much of it to remain in the shadows, leaving it for the reader to figure out. I am not sure how I feel about this. I kind of enjoyed the mystery of it all. It is still there, but different somehow.

It seems to be going in many different directions, headed for a common end. Once I finish, I will sit down and read it (hopefully without the aid of my red pen). I believe that it will flow well.

I have been considering self publishing. However, I am not much of a saleswoman so I am sure if it would be wise to do so. I am still receiving rejection notices and my hopes are waning on a publisher picking up the novel. In any case, I could sell a few copies to friends and family who are interested in reading it. I am still mulling it all over.

Well, back to work!

Workload

Writing daily has become a challenge. Either I'm bogged down with work, uninspired or just emotionally drained. For the past week, I have been so busy, that I cannot write after work. If do get a few moments, I find that my thoughts are scattered... I have to reread what I have written in an effort to unify with the tale once again. I have also started going to the gym... I am so tired. I feel as if I am being pulled in 40 different directions.

I think that I am also distressed because one of the storylines that I have added back in does not seem to flow well. I think that I am more concerned with length. I don't know. I am just confused right now. Perhaps I should take a break.

There is just too much story to tell. Everyone wants me to tell their full story. Anton, Claude, Chantelle, Isabel, Gosh they are all driving me nuts. I cannot tell everyone's saga in one book. So I must decide, should I just write the book, or should I write something that a publisher would be willing to take on?

I know, we have visited this question many times before, but for real? I have put so many years into this. I cannot not tell the story, though. Maybe I should just self-publish the novel that I wish to write and sell to those who are interested. That may be my best bet. I cannot cut it again. That is probably the reason why I am struggling so. I am not being true to my characters. I have become more interested in making a buck (which they should all know that I desperately need). But sometimes when you follow your heart, it will lead you to your heart's desire, n'est pas?

Well, I've been following my heart all of these years. Why be rational and stop now? I will do it my way, as I have traditionally done.

Containing the Beast

Novels within a novel... That is what it has become. I don't know what to do anymore. I guess that I will just go with it. Two new stories are unfolding for 2 other characters... I knew that the stories were there... But once again, I worry that it is too much detail to contain in one novel. I have already split it once.

I cannot worry about it. See, I am still trying to write within the constraints of what an imaginary audience/publisher might enjoy. I'm just going to write it.

But when does it end? I guess that it is over when it is over. Gee whiz, I don't see how I'm going to keep this under 200K words.

Scattered - Day Two

Ugh. This is not going so well. I am considering removing the scenes that I just re-inserted. At this rate, I will be at 300K words again. Well maybe not. There is just too much to say and I am trying to be consciencious of my word count.

On the train this morning, I remember the words of one of my Snuggery buddies. "Claudia, write the book that you want to write." Ray told me that. He's right. I think that I am trying to mold my work so that I can publish it. Perhaps I should return to my first love and just write the story. Hell, either someone will pick it up or they won't. If it is good, will it not sell itself to the right publisher anyway?

I am not sure why I am so concerned with publishing anyway. It is a distraction. This is where my problem lies. I cannot write for the market. I am only required to write the story.

Scattered

My energy, my focus is scattered. Did you ever have one of those days, weeks or months?

I know what I should do, and that is focus on completing the edit of La Rose. Then I am distressed on what to add in, leave out or take out. Then I am being bombarded by passages for the other novels, ALL OF THEM. To top it off, I have to do my job. It is a challenge to focus on my work because all of my characters are talking to me. I have to tell them to wait a minute. When I get the minute what do I hear? Silence!

Ugh! Look guys, if you wish for me to spend all my time with you, you need to make me wealthy so that I do not have to work! LOLLOL

I know, I'm nuts. I never told anyone otherwise.

Sha-La-La

My All Time Favorite Al Green cut. I am an Al Green fanatic. He speaks to my heart and soul.

Absent

I have been so busy at work. I can find little time to do anything else, including posting to this blog. Needless to say, I have done very little on La Rose as well.

It is so strange refering to the novel as La Rose. I wear a charm rose on a gold chain about my wrist. On August 1st, right after I split the book, the charm broke in two. I was devestated, but it was symbolic in a way. Now, I wear both pieces on the chain. When I look at it, my heart aches that I have split my child in two, but at the same time I am comforted. The girls needed to be seperated so that they may both have the opportunity to express themselves fully.

Divided

The incision was painless, the surgery, a success. Both patients are doing well, resting comfortably under their new titles. Although apart, they are still one in spirit, stretching and growing into the own, but still one heart.

LOL... Yes, I split the novel today. I think the final word count for La Rose, (formally book one of La Fleur) will come in between 170-175,000 words. We will see for La Fleur(Book two).

I am very excited, but melancholy at the same time. However, I think that it will be better this way. We will see.