dreams

Performance anxiety even though I won’t be on stage

So last night I dreamt of even more things going wrong at Local Authors Live! It’s the reading at the West-Falls Colden Library that I’m hosting on 25 April. There were 50 people; I had no food. I borrowed pretzels from Eric Tertinek, then worried if they were all right because he had a half-eaten pan of Jell-O in his cupboard. A woman who wasn’t on the roster wanted to read first. I get her to understand there was a line up and so I go to introduce Stephen Eoannou, but I can’t pronounce the name of his book because his son wanted him to read from the different one. My print out with intros was lost not once, but twice. My mother was selling pop in a tent in the front, while in the back, a storm raged and an owl threatened to break the window. This set of dreamed problems is just as whacko as the other disaster dream I had the day before.

I’m exhausted and there’s still over a week before the reading.

4.16tulip

In other news, I went out for my birthday and well, so much for weight loss goals. The day after, Betty and Angela dropped by with wings and pizza and a gift certificate for the The Meat Shoppe. *Sigh.* I did get these lovely tulips from Angela. I have 9 flats of seedlings growing now. I’ll be getting a workout in the garden soon enough.

After this horribly long winter, the weather has warmed up and the crocuses are out.

4.16Stripe

Husband finished the prototype swing seat. There are a few tweaks we’re considering and then he’ll make it out of cedar.

4.16swing

The Camp NaNo book has stalled out. That’s all I want to say about it. At the moment, I’m in a reflective mood wondering if I even want to write anymore. It is hard and scary. With exercise, I can look in the mirror and see that I’m making progress. With writing, well, I’m a better writer than when I tackled Campus Crimes, but other than that? Eh. If I go farther in the latest manuscript I’m not sure I can write through the scenes well enough.

Why yes, I do have lousy self-confidence. Thanks for stopping by and reading my Creekside Reflections. I trust your experiences will vary.

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Pavlov’s got nothing on Samsung

So, I tend to be close-lipped on some things, a blabbermouth about others, right? I’m now confessing that we got rid of our landline–and our abusive relationship with AT&T–over a month ago. Of course, there’s still a little back and forth slapping going on with AT&T, but my blowup on Twitter did get me some satisfaction in that regard. Supposedly, the bill we shouldn’t have gotten in the first place–let alone with a late fee–has been taken care of, but I have a whole month to wait to see it in print.

Our semi-smart phone takes great pictures and since we got the case and touch screen stylus, I can type longer texts. The other good thing is that I can check my Gmail account without having to go upstairs, turn on the tower, and check a bunch of other pages like Duotrope, Twitter, and Facebook. The bad part is that now the semi-smart phone chirps whenever an email arrives. I’ve turned into a puppet for that sound. I tense up and feel the need to rush over and check what was sent. I’m learning–slowly–that most of my “mail” is actually Facebook group updates and not worthy of my immediate attention. Of course, as soon as I typed that, an actual important email did arrive…

I’m signed up for April’s Camp NaNoWriMo. Just before I fell asleep last night, I found the “key” that was missing from the-new-piece-that-I-still-don’t-have-a-name-for. Looking at it again this morning, I felt stupid for not seeing the answer before since it is so obvious. Regardless, I think I’ve got it and look forward to writing it soon.

3.18.2015B

Besides the melting snow, I have pansies and impatiens sprouting as well as deer coming too close to the house. My list of people I owe letters to has been reduced. I finished reading Chuck Palahniuk’s Haunted and Gail Carson Levine’s Ella Enchanted. I’m a quarter of the way through Thom Jones’ The Pugilist at Rest and half-way through Paulo Coelho’s Brida, which gets me closer to catching up to my goal of reading a book a week…but the idea of reviewing them, well, that has fallen to the wayside for now.

 

 

 

3.18.2015D

 

3.18.2015C

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I truly love the problems I have.

Thank you for stopping by! One of you lucky readers should be on the lookout for a small care package that I sent out Tuesday as a random act of kindness. Will it be you? By the way, these are my creek side reflections; your experiences may vary.

Happy 2013! I’m an Editor now!

I hope your 2013 is starting off to be a great year. Yesterday, I was promoted from a fiction reader to a Fiction Editor at r.kv.r.y. Quarterly Literary Journal. Thank you, Mary Akers! I went through the receipts for the year and gathered all the tax information I have so that dreadful bit which I usually wait until the last minute to do is over and I already have a contest entry and three submissions sent off. My year is starting off very well, and last year was not too shabby. I went to a writer’s conference in Westfield where I met James Goertel, Reg Darling, LouAnne Johnson, and Linda Lavid. I traveled to Binghamton and met Jefferson Rose and his family. My son and his family visited. I saw Chicago again. My garden shed was completed. I had ten pieces accepted (including one which will appear in Rosebud–one of my “dream” publications) and an agent queried me.

While I don’t make resolutions, per se, I’m not immune to the hype for personal betterment in the new year. I do hope that my writing (and editing) skills improve and that my work is accepted in awesome venues. Payment would be nice and finding an agent that believes in my work would be fantastic. I think I have these vague “goals” at all points during the year, but they seem most pronounced in January.

I know it works for some people, but declaring a new start at the beginning of the year has never worked for me. When I quit smoking (on Saturday, it will be the eighth anniversary) it was something I had tried before. I hadn’t been as serious about it until then. And don’t get me wrong, the drugs helped, too. Without Welbutrin, I don’t think I would have made it past the hump. But, I quit on the fifth, not the first. Now, writing challenges and prompts are different. So are deadlines. I have a better chance of meeting another person’s parameters than deciding which things to impose on myself for some reason.

I’m so grateful the holidays are over. Husband has been home too much for my taste. I thought that today I might be able to get back to normal, but no. On the ride over to Weber City, he got a call and he’ll be putting a bid in on a job in Depew this afternoon, and since there will be no time for him to get back to the Buffalo Zoo and get tools out, he’ll be home early again. Yesterday, he was home early because he was all ‘manly’ and had three cavities filled during one dentist visit which numbed his tongue completely. *Sigh* Men…

Cats though, they are sweet and look lovely in ribbons. Since mine is a diva, here are two photos where I tried to capture her New Year’s Eve ‘costume.’

1.1.2013B

1.1.2013C

This month there will be an additional posting as I’ve been tagged to participate in the “Next Big Thing.”

Thanks for checking in!

(*These are just my Creekside Reflections. Your experience may vary.)