Book ’em!

I have a friend who just finished writing his second book. I edited it for him, and I now have a much better appreciation for what a huge task it all is…frankly, I’m in awe.

I continually tell myself that I need to write more, and I get lots of love and encouragement from those who read what I do manage to get in writing. However, being a dues-paying member of the Procrastinator’s Guild, I’ve pretty much just been poking a stick at the process for quite a while. Not a lot of actual writing going on, but I have been jotting down a few initial sentences and notes. In a tentative, half-assed way, I guess I’ve finally started making the first attempts at beginning to write my own book.

One thing that’s been a big challenge for me is feeling like I don’t have a crystal clear vision of what my first book is supposed to be. Hell, I don’t know that I even have a muddified Portland fall morning’s notion of what it’s supposed to be. I keep worrying at it though and (in fun) here are some of the titles and ideas I’ve been throwing around in my head…

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Lessons From Losers

The diary of a middle-aged woman as she reflects back on the more entertaining choices in suitors that she’s made. Not for the faint of heart. (Look for the upcoming sequel   —   Go Ahead…Date the Drummer.)

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The Know-It-All Life

(sub-title: A Professional’s Guide to Pissing People Off Without Even Knowing It)

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Don’t Wear Your Hoochie Mama Dress to Court…The Tammy Kelly Story

A racy coming-of-age tale with just enough bluegrass, booze and jury duty to keep you on the edge of your bar stool. (Come on, you know you’d buy it.)

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Big Hair…Will Travel

She came into town with a can of Aqua Net and a dream. (Soon to be a minor made-for-tv movie…see your local LifeTime channel listings.)

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It’s obviously still a work in progress, but I’m feeling better about it every time I put fingers to keyboard. Stay tuned for further developments!

And then I hit 9000 hits…

I love you…every single damn person who’s clicked on this site and spent their minutes reading what I write. Thank you…seriously.

I haven’t been having any damn luck writing lately. The truth is that I’ve been trying to get my gumption up to write a book. A real life, honest to goodness booky book, with a beginning, middle and end. The challenge is what (in the hell) such a thing looks like…? I continually overthink this…should it be a fantasy/fiction? I can’t say that I’ve ever been good at that. Or maybe it’s my story…cobbled together from blogs and tall tales? Hmmm. How ’bout my story told through my grandmama’s eyes…or maybe…her story told through mine?

Thoughts? I welcome your feedback, gentle reader.

You have the right to remain…boring

So here’s the thing…I want to write. I need to write. I LIKE to write…but I got nothin’. I make lists, jot down random thoughts while in the grocery store, keep a dream dictionary, record strange non sequitur blog ideas, and then randomly just sit and start typing. I do all the things that have given me ample ammo in the past…but nothing sticks.

I tend to get hung up on feeling that, in order to justify doing this bloggy thing, I really need to have something to say. Something WORTH saying…something that a reader might find interesting, humorous or even annoying. Hell, I can only pray for those posts that might possibly even make coffee come out of someone’s nose…sigh.

But here I sit, whining that my once oh-so-sparkly life feels (dare I say it?) a bit normal. I have a regular old office job now, great friends, too many bills, two crazy cats and no boy friend. (Actually, that last one isn’t really so bad, considering some of the men I’ve let into my life in the past!) Just the same, all this normal is making this former ‘better strange than boring’ mantra’d gal just a little bit nervous.

Hell, the most excitement around here this week was wrasslin’ with Pickle to get him to the vet. (I only sustained a few scratches this time…the first vet trip for this boy with none of my blood drawn.) He actually broke out of one carrier (the cheap one) and I had to rummage around in the basement to find the smaller anti-Houdini version that he outgrew a while back. Then came the minor miracle of me stalking the wily beast with a pillow case, catching him for a second time, then successfully muscling him into his personal jail cell. It certainly wasn’t boring.

PICKLE IN JAIL

I started thinking that maybe the lesson here is that normal isn’t really so bad. Then I took another look at that face, and I decided it’s much more likely that the real lesson is that there’s nothing normal about Pickle.

NOTHING.

Has anyone seen Tammy???

I’m afraid that I haven’t been very successful at writing for a while, but I’m still here!

I’ve actually been working a lot and have also been very involved with a special project that I call ‘Time to Grow the Hell Up, Girl’. The primary goal of this particular endeavor is to get my wounded heart and bruised ego healed from the long overdue, extremely nasty breakup of a relationship that didn’t really exist.

So, you may be wondering to yourself, how exactly does a relationship not exist…isn’t that sort of an oxymoron? And, assuming that such a situation is even possible, exactly how does a witty, sweet, kind, not altogether unattractive, and (otherwise) intelligent woman find herself in the middle of such a faux-lationship?

Well, in this case, I just opened my heart up to the wrong person…but I’m hardly the first person to make that mistake. My real blunder was that I didn’t have enough sense to listen to either my gut or my family and friends when they told me to open my eyes and acknowledge the truth about the situation. I didn’t know how to put myself first, or to love myself more than someone else. (Especially THAT someone else!)

Nope, I insisted on clinging for far too long to the hope that things would somehow miraculously work out, and to the belief that I couldn’t possibly have trusted the wrong person so completely. (So much for any assumed intelligence on my part!)

Thankfully, things have finally changed. I’m happy to report that my eyes are now WIDE open, my heart is on the road to recovery, and I’m focusing on learning to love myself. Thank you for bearing with me…you should start seeing more of me here in the very near future!

 

healing

 

 

 

Did ya miss me?

I just realized that it’s been almost a solid month since I’ve posted anything, and that’s just WRONG. I’ve certainly thought about it plenty of times, but too much work and too little sleep just don’t contribute a whole lot to the creative process.

Not much new and exciting to report…it’s fall again, so my yard once again smells like a Welch’s grape jelly factory — it’s a beautiful thing but I do seem to be buying a lot more peanut butter than I normally would.

Big banking news…I used my debit card online so much that the bank thought terrorists had it and shut that sucker OFF. I didn’t really buy that much actual stuff, but (note to self) it’s probably not wise to have five Amazon repeat orders, two eBay finds and a pet supplies order in the same week. cat thingy

The good news: the cats have a new scratching post tower climby thingy that was on the last credit card charge before the plug on the BofA connection got pulled. The bad news: I must have picked a dud, because those damn ungrateful cats don’t seem the least bit interested.

I’ll try very hard to have some better adventures before my next post.

 

 

My demons are drinking age

I tried today to write about something that’s been gnawing at me for a long while. I thought I was ready to explore (and maybe even share) the true story of my exodus from South Carolina to Oregon, some 22 years ago. I felt that I was ready to recount the tale of how #1 decided that the life we had built together was too badly damaged to salvage. I wanted to explain how we ran, leaving behind our store, home, friends and families…how we escaped without a destination, deserting all that we’d acquired, known and done.

It’s an exciting story of adventuring across this country but, as I started pulling together the words, I could feel the emotions starting to swirl in my gut. My face felt hot and I sensed tears beginning to well up, just as they did so long ago on the day we first drove away from everything I’d ever known and loved. I was transported to the day when all of my life’s history became just a shrinking rear view mirror’s width, and I thought I’d lost everything in the world that was precious to me.

What I know and understand now is that we decided back then that we didn’t have a choice. We decided not to allow ourselves to deserve the life we’d created. Our desperate escape from (what we decided was) the certain hot breath of failure and doom on our necks was a turning point in my life. I wanted to be ready to share my realizations…to free myself from the demons who hang on to painful hidden parts of your heart like a dog with a new toy.

Writing about the ending of such a huge chapter of my life should be cathartic…right? Hell, it’s been over twenty years, and I’m happily settled in a life that I love, in a place that I adore. I thought I was ready to face down those demons of that past life and tell ’em who was boss…who wears the pants in this relationship!

As it turns out, the damn demons have all the britches. They are, in fact, the boss of me. For now.

So I filed the draft away as something that needs more work…more time…more healing. But be warned, demons–the band-aid has been pulled off.

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Too much livin’ I tell ya!

Well, to say that I’m disappointed in how little writing I’ve been doing wouldn’t be nearly whiny enough, so I’m just going to vow to do better. Here’s what I currently have going on, in case you think I’ve just been slacking off…

  • Two jobs
  • Yard work (since I’ve finally acknowledged…after 13 years in this house…that it won’t do itself)
  • A vegetable and herb garden (now that I’ve decided that eating things that grow in the yard isn’t a sin…and hell, if I’m out there anyway…)
  • Two crazed kitties with a new-found addiction to being outside (with their mama, while she slaves over the crops)
  • Worrying about if I still have any followers when I do write
  • A (more than) crazy, on-again-off-again boyfriend
  • A serious addiction to HBO
  • Periodic bouts of totally necessary retail therapy
  • Listening to my neighbor children grow up (to the South we have a budding Ethel Merman in the making who belts out that song from Frozen over, and over, and over …on the North we have a toddler named Wyatt who, if my ears don’t deceive me, may just be the most perfect child ever, cause all his mama ever says is, “Good BOY, WYATT!” She yells it a lot. A whole lot.)
  • Returning a lot of beer cans and…um, never mind that one

See? And I didn’t even mention all the time it takes me to put my makeup on and do my HAIR…I don’t wake up looking like this, you know!

The other issue is regarding what comes out when I finally DO write. Let’s just say that my last post was, well, maybe a teensy bit self-indulgent. Don’t get me wrong, everything I wrote was true, but I didn’t really need to dump all that on ya’ll. This is supposed to be a happy, feel-good break in your day…a time to check in and see what old wacky Tammy has going on. I can just hear you thinking to yourself, “NOW what has that girl gone and done?” or, more likely, “Damn, that girl better get funnier FAST, or I’m outta here,” or, “Hmmm…isn’t America’s Got Talent on right now?”

Well, keep your britches on…I’m still here and, like I said at the beginning of this post, I’m vowing to get back into writing more regularly. I’m also learning to type while drinking and watering the garden, so the odds are in our favor!