So I've been spending a lot of time thinking about the past...again.
If I'm going to write about it, growing up where I did, the adventures I had, the people I knew, I'd have to include as much as information as possible, right? Right.
But here's my dilemma...I have a few dark things from my youth...extremely dark...that no one but my husband knows about. (Well, maybe one or two others know about them.)
These are not things that I did, or that any of my loved ones did, but events that just happened to happen in the course of my childhood. One of them scarred me for life. The other I had actually blocked out completely until it suddenly jumped up at me one day from somewhere deep in my subconcious, giving me several nights of sleeplessness and anxiety since.
I want to include them in the story. I don't want to paint a ridiculous picture of some fictitious and skewed childhood where the bad is not included with good. There was good. I liked where I grew up at the time. But there was bad as well. I saw it. I experienced it. I want to write about it.
And I think I will.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Me-time and the story of my life
I have a day to myself today. The husband took to kids out for the afternoon, and I have a few blessed, quiet hours to do what I want to do.
If you're a woman, you know what this means. We prepare in our mind a mental list, yes - one of the hundred others in there - of what we'd like to do in this free time. Read a book, go for a walk, do our nails, watch a movie in peace.
Yet, part of our mind is telling us, well, we can certainly do all those things after we put on just one load of laundry. And maybe just wipe off the countertops. Oh, and quickly dust the wood furniture in the living room...that won't take long. And before we know it, the day is gone.
Why do we do this? We look forward so much to doing absolutely nothing but the things we put off doing for ourselves, and then when the time comes, we find ourselves doing what "needs" to be done. I could kick myself sometimes. LOL
I've been turning over a story in my mind these last few days. My husband gave me the idea for it, and I want to try to get some of it, at least, down on paper as soon as possible. I have almost no discipline at all when it comes to writing. If it's something for work, I wait til the very last moment and then throw it all down in haste. I hate that, but unfortunately, it seems to work for me.
I have the beginnings of several books written, both fiction and non-fiction. I'd write them in a crazy, almost delusional pace for days or weeks, and then get bored with the direction they start to go in. So I put them down, or save the files, and never touch them again.
What I've always wanted to write about is my life. I've lived a very interesting life to this point, more than most people's, I've been told, even during those years when I thought my life was so boring, and I want to write about it. But like any family, mine would die of shame if I wrote about them. But I have so much to tell! So many experiences to share!
So thanks to my husband's idea, I'm tossing over in my mind how to write about my life from the viewpoint of a fictional character. I wouldn't be that hard, I think. I would be speaking from my own experiences.
What would be hard, unfortunately, is remembering all I'd need to remember....the moments, the feelings, the dialogue...a lot of it is hazy at best. I'd need to think about how to talk about the people I knew over the years, without them recognizing themselves and possibly being offended.
In the end, I know I need to suck it up and just do it and worry about all the editing later.
There are a lot of my friends here who are writers, so your input would be most welcome.
If you're a woman, you know what this means. We prepare in our mind a mental list, yes - one of the hundred others in there - of what we'd like to do in this free time. Read a book, go for a walk, do our nails, watch a movie in peace.
Yet, part of our mind is telling us, well, we can certainly do all those things after we put on just one load of laundry. And maybe just wipe off the countertops. Oh, and quickly dust the wood furniture in the living room...that won't take long. And before we know it, the day is gone.
Why do we do this? We look forward so much to doing absolutely nothing but the things we put off doing for ourselves, and then when the time comes, we find ourselves doing what "needs" to be done. I could kick myself sometimes. LOL
I've been turning over a story in my mind these last few days. My husband gave me the idea for it, and I want to try to get some of it, at least, down on paper as soon as possible. I have almost no discipline at all when it comes to writing. If it's something for work, I wait til the very last moment and then throw it all down in haste. I hate that, but unfortunately, it seems to work for me.
I have the beginnings of several books written, both fiction and non-fiction. I'd write them in a crazy, almost delusional pace for days or weeks, and then get bored with the direction they start to go in. So I put them down, or save the files, and never touch them again.
What I've always wanted to write about is my life. I've lived a very interesting life to this point, more than most people's, I've been told, even during those years when I thought my life was so boring, and I want to write about it. But like any family, mine would die of shame if I wrote about them. But I have so much to tell! So many experiences to share!
So thanks to my husband's idea, I'm tossing over in my mind how to write about my life from the viewpoint of a fictional character. I wouldn't be that hard, I think. I would be speaking from my own experiences.
What would be hard, unfortunately, is remembering all I'd need to remember....the moments, the feelings, the dialogue...a lot of it is hazy at best. I'd need to think about how to talk about the people I knew over the years, without them recognizing themselves and possibly being offended.
In the end, I know I need to suck it up and just do it and worry about all the editing later.
There are a lot of my friends here who are writers, so your input would be most welcome.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Gone, Baby, Gone (spoilers!)
Now, I know this is a controversial subject, but I can't help but bring it up again.
I've just finished watching Dennis Lahane's "Gone, Baby, Gone" for the second time, and I'm riled up again.
I love that movie, not only because I think it's a great movie, with a lot of talent in it, but because it shows a lot of true life from the streets of Dorchester and South Boston.
Yes, we really do talk like that. Most of us try not to curse as much, I think, but the characters and the lives of those from this neck of the woods really are like that. I knew many people like that in my time, as have a lot of you who will read this. It's where we grew up, where we lived, where our parents struggled to put food onthe table...or places close by that are just like it.
Now, here's the spoiler, so if you haven't seen the movie yet and don't want the ending ruined for you...don't read any further.
A child was kidnapped from her mother in this story. Her mother is a junkie...a selfish woman who didn't give a shit about her child until the cameras were rolling. Otherwise, this beautiful girl was hardly an afterthought in her mother's head, while she looked for her next fix or lay.
In the end, after many violent turns and about a hundred f-bombs, we discover that the child was taken not by a sex offender, as believed, but in a well thought-out plan by the police themselves. And not just any policemen, but by the captain himself, who wanted nothing more than to give her a decent life, to be raised by people who would love her and provide for her and care of she were alive or dead.
So the dilemma Patrick (Casey Affleck) faces in the end is whether or not to return her to her mother from whom she was taken, and leave her to whatever future she would be dealt, or turn the other way and let her begin a new life with a good family.
My husband would do what Patrick did. He would return her to her mother, because of course kidnapping is a felony, and that's where she belongs. He would then try to work through DSS and hope she could be taken from her mother and placed in a foster home, and then maybe have a better chance at life by going through the system.
I would walk away.
I know it's wrong. I know it was a kidnapping and that her mother would never see her again. But I know that if I took away that child's possible only chance to be brought up in a loving, safe environment and return her to a mother who's only concern is what's in it for her, and just hope for the best, it would haunt me for the rest of my life. I would do what my heart told me to do.
So...now I ask....what would you do?
I've just finished watching Dennis Lahane's "Gone, Baby, Gone" for the second time, and I'm riled up again.
I love that movie, not only because I think it's a great movie, with a lot of talent in it, but because it shows a lot of true life from the streets of Dorchester and South Boston.
Yes, we really do talk like that. Most of us try not to curse as much, I think, but the characters and the lives of those from this neck of the woods really are like that. I knew many people like that in my time, as have a lot of you who will read this. It's where we grew up, where we lived, where our parents struggled to put food onthe table...or places close by that are just like it.
Now, here's the spoiler, so if you haven't seen the movie yet and don't want the ending ruined for you...don't read any further.
A child was kidnapped from her mother in this story. Her mother is a junkie...a selfish woman who didn't give a shit about her child until the cameras were rolling. Otherwise, this beautiful girl was hardly an afterthought in her mother's head, while she looked for her next fix or lay.
In the end, after many violent turns and about a hundred f-bombs, we discover that the child was taken not by a sex offender, as believed, but in a well thought-out plan by the police themselves. And not just any policemen, but by the captain himself, who wanted nothing more than to give her a decent life, to be raised by people who would love her and provide for her and care of she were alive or dead.
So the dilemma Patrick (Casey Affleck) faces in the end is whether or not to return her to her mother from whom she was taken, and leave her to whatever future she would be dealt, or turn the other way and let her begin a new life with a good family.
My husband would do what Patrick did. He would return her to her mother, because of course kidnapping is a felony, and that's where she belongs. He would then try to work through DSS and hope she could be taken from her mother and placed in a foster home, and then maybe have a better chance at life by going through the system.
I would walk away.
I know it's wrong. I know it was a kidnapping and that her mother would never see her again. But I know that if I took away that child's possible only chance to be brought up in a loving, safe environment and return her to a mother who's only concern is what's in it for her, and just hope for the best, it would haunt me for the rest of my life. I would do what my heart told me to do.
So...now I ask....what would you do?
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
La Luna Bella (and other mystical things)
There's a full moon tonight.
Well, officially, the calendar says it's tomorrow night, but I just came from the store and I couldn't help but stand in my driveway, looking up at the moon, bags forgotten in my hands.
Why is it that the moon holds so much magic for us small humans here on earth? That bright white circle in the sky is just a big chunk of rock, reflecting the light of the sun.
But cultures have been mystified by it for centuries. They've prayed to it, worshipped it, planted their crops by it, knew the time of night depending on its position in the sky. The oceans ebb and flow to its cycle. It's a prominent figure in tales of romance.
There was a time when I didn't believe in anything mystical. Considering the fact that I'm Christian adds irony to that remark, as faith in the unknown is the fiber of our religion. Yet, I never believed in spirits or unexplained phenomena or anything like that. I considered myself a realist. And I never bought into any superstitions. I felt they were just stories created to place fear and doubt into the minds of the weak.
I've discovered, however, as I've grown older, that I am not completely the realist I thought I was. Events over the years led me to believe in the possibility of the existence of things that cannot be explained. Part of me still wrestles with it, and tells me to cut the shit and screw my head back on straight.
But another part of me...a part that wants to believe in the mystical and magical things...has been floating on the edges of my conciousness more than it once did. I see it more now. Call it what you like...intuition, Celtic superstition, silliness...but it's there. It tells me to believe; to stop being so closed-minded and accept the things I can't explain.
I've written here in the past that I get feelings about things sometimes. I always have, even since I was a child. I have that feeling tonight. It's a nervous sort of excitement. Giddiness. My hands are trembling (although they do that sometimes when I'm stressed) and I feel like something is coming. Something is going to happen soon.
I can't get a read on if that something is positive or negative, and that's the frustrating part. I think it's something positive, but I've been wrong before. We'll have to wait and see.
In the meantime, I'm looking at that moon. I can hardly pull my eyes away to focus on this post. I feel very drawn to it when its full like that. Is that a female-thing, or just me? LOL Does everyone feel that same draw?
Either way, I'll continue to stare at it with wide eyes, and expect the unexpected.
Well, officially, the calendar says it's tomorrow night, but I just came from the store and I couldn't help but stand in my driveway, looking up at the moon, bags forgotten in my hands.
Why is it that the moon holds so much magic for us small humans here on earth? That bright white circle in the sky is just a big chunk of rock, reflecting the light of the sun.
But cultures have been mystified by it for centuries. They've prayed to it, worshipped it, planted their crops by it, knew the time of night depending on its position in the sky. The oceans ebb and flow to its cycle. It's a prominent figure in tales of romance.
There was a time when I didn't believe in anything mystical. Considering the fact that I'm Christian adds irony to that remark, as faith in the unknown is the fiber of our religion. Yet, I never believed in spirits or unexplained phenomena or anything like that. I considered myself a realist. And I never bought into any superstitions. I felt they were just stories created to place fear and doubt into the minds of the weak.
I've discovered, however, as I've grown older, that I am not completely the realist I thought I was. Events over the years led me to believe in the possibility of the existence of things that cannot be explained. Part of me still wrestles with it, and tells me to cut the shit and screw my head back on straight.
But another part of me...a part that wants to believe in the mystical and magical things...has been floating on the edges of my conciousness more than it once did. I see it more now. Call it what you like...intuition, Celtic superstition, silliness...but it's there. It tells me to believe; to stop being so closed-minded and accept the things I can't explain.
I've written here in the past that I get feelings about things sometimes. I always have, even since I was a child. I have that feeling tonight. It's a nervous sort of excitement. Giddiness. My hands are trembling (although they do that sometimes when I'm stressed) and I feel like something is coming. Something is going to happen soon.
I can't get a read on if that something is positive or negative, and that's the frustrating part. I think it's something positive, but I've been wrong before. We'll have to wait and see.
In the meantime, I'm looking at that moon. I can hardly pull my eyes away to focus on this post. I feel very drawn to it when its full like that. Is that a female-thing, or just me? LOL Does everyone feel that same draw?
Either way, I'll continue to stare at it with wide eyes, and expect the unexpected.
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