Friends

Enjoyed a good discussion with one of my children today, regarding friends. Specifically, how to manage competing interests. One friend wants to do one thing, another something else, and another nothing at all; how to balance that to please the majority, while also remembering to prioritize personal well-being. Good question. And one I hardly feel qualified to answer.

Growing up, I had one close friend. One person I hung out with 90% of the time. The other 10% I was either up to my elbows in household chores, or horse, chicken, and rabbit dung. More often than not, my friend helped me get my livestock chores out of the way, because we were in some instances partners--we each owned rabbits and chickens and caged them on my property, bred the bucks and does, hens and roosters, and sold the kits and chicks at auction--and because in exchange for helping, my friend had exclusive access to ride one of my horses. But time changes everything. And everyone.

By the time we were eighteen, we each had serious boyfriends. From different backgrounds and friend groups. My parents had separated, and my mom sold my childhood home; I had to sell most of my animals, taking with me only one horse (boarded out) and my dog. My friend and I hung out less often, wrapped up as we were in our new boyfriends and their family/social groups. Not to mention full-time jobs. Eventually, we each married our respective boyfriends, and our visits were even less frequent. Then I had kids. She didn't. My marriage broke up. Hers didn't. She had kids. I remarried and moved away. Had more kids. My friend and I went from hanging out daily in elementary and high school, to not seeing or speaking to each other for months. Sometimes a year or more. And yet, when we did finally manage to coordinate our personal and family schedules to visit, it was like we'd never been apart. That's friendship.

The same is true with most of those people I consider true friends. 

Me and one of my life-long friends.
Not the one mentioned in the post.

We don't talk or text every day. We don't hang out every weekend. And we're not all in the same group. Or lifestyle circumstances.

My friends are spread out. Only two live within ten minutes of me. The others are anywhere from an hour, to twelve hours away. Some are married or in long-term relationships. Others single. I see some more often than others. And they all mean the world to me.

Friendship isn't about how much time you spend together, or how you spend that time. Friendship is in the heart. It's a feeling, and it can't be charted.

I've made mistakes with regards to friendship. Looking back with age and wisdom, I realize people I thought were close friends, were actually, In The Moment Friends. Meaning, that in that moment in our lives, we needed each other. We each served a purpose for the other, providing emotional or physical support. Shared lifestyle. Children of similar age, or on the same sport's team. And when that moment in our lives passed, or we outgrew the need for the other person's support, developed new interests or hobbies, or entered a different stage in our life where that person no longer easily fit, or filled a necessary role, like a black hole collapsing inward, the relationship imploded. It happens.

What I also learned, is that true friends forgive. They actively strive to resolve differences. As my childhood best friend and I did. Many, many, times. 

We threw rocks at each other. And hurtful names. Hung up on each other. Refused to answer the phone when the other called. And yet somehow, we always found our way back to each other. Our way back to putting our friendship above petty differences.

So, when it comes to managing competing differences among friends, I have no hard, fast answer. I don't know that there is an answer.

I think, however, when you're happy in yourself, in who you are and what you do, you'll attract like-minded friends. People with whom you can safely share and exchange ideas, interests, goals, and dreams; people who support you, or, at the very least, give you the freedom to do what you need to do, to be happy. People unafraid to challenge you if, or when, you veer off path, or attempt to sacrifice important values or goals for less-important or easier diversions; people willing to be honest, and who value your honesty in return. Friends care. Even when you don't do what they want you to. Even when you don't like some of the things they do. Even when you want something they don't. The same is true in reverse.

Friendship is about empowering those you care about to be authentic; to be true to themselves. To their goals. Their dreams. Their values. And perhaps, that's the answer.

Check your values. Do they align with the people you consider friends? Do theirs align with yours?

Our friendships are a reflection of who we are. In the moment. At the time. Where we are in our life. Where we'll end up. Some friendships flow, change, and grow with us our entire lives; others last only until the harvest. The key to recognizing the difference, and appreciating each, is to spend time with and know, nurture, educate, entertain, love and empower, the very best-friend you'll ever have: You.

Deborah

To be capable of steady friendship or lasting glove are the two greatest proofs, not only of goodness of heart, but of strength of mind. ~William Hazlitt

In Praise of Jimmy

I spoke to a former co-worker today when I called my former place of employment with a concern regarding a recent bill. She sounded so happy when she realized who I was, and stated she had been thinking of me of late, wishing I and a few others who also left the company still worked there, because then "I know we could get through this" (an exceptionally heavy workload, would be my guess). Her indirect praise, and the genuineness of her tone and expressed delight, gave me a much needed boost.

It is very easy when you spend your days at home, alone, without regular social feedback--good or bad--to lose sense of your abilities, good or bad. Working to break into publishing can compound the shaky-feeling. Today's chat with my former workmate reminded me of my abilities, and more importantly, how good it feels to receive positive feedback. I must remember this in my daily encounters and share with others what I appreciate about them. At the same time, I must remember that if the only person in the world that appreciates me, is me, then I have enough.

I am enough.

As are you.

Be the change you want to reflect, and love the person in the mirror; she's the only one that truly has your back.

And Jimmy, thank you. I miss you, too.

Deborah


It is no use saying "we are doing our best." You have got to succeed in doing what is necessary. ~Sir Winston Churchill

Stirred, Not Shaken

2013 was the year we were going to shake things up. A new job for hub's meant a 400 mile move for the family complete with a new lifestyle, new neighborhood, new school, new bank, new hairstylist, new gym, and…no. We did not move, despite the fact I packed boxes, investigated schools, researched rentals—we almost signed a lease on one (cancelled just two hours before we were to meet Landlord and sign off on paperwork)—and negotiated (okay, pleaded) to get youngest on to a sports team, and lo and behold, due to a series of events beyond our control, we slide into 2014 in the exact same place we started 2013. Oh, the irony.

And that is life.

You can plan, postulate, prophesize, and pray, but if it's not time, it's not time. God/the Universe/Fate/Murphy's Law, whatever you want to call the conductor of the Big Picture has a plan, and He/She does not always consult you, or even care about what you think you want or believe you should have.

I wanted long blonde hair when I was a kid. I got short, fine mousey-brown hair that my friends delighted in pulling out in tufts until puberty strengthened the strands—and me—enough to require effort (and stealth) to make a game of it. As it was not a fun game—someone (me) always got hurt—my tormentors finally lost interest (thank Dog). In my late teens, I decided one day I would own a red Ferrari. Not one of the ten-plus vehicles I've owned over the, um, many years since, was, or is, red. Or a Ferrari. Not that I let that stop me from driving like Tom Selleck on Magnum P.I. (yes, in ultra-short jean cut offs and a tank-top, with a big smile and mustache. Not). Anyway, if I have learned anything from all of this—okay, in the last six months—control is like smoke.

It's an amorphous by-product of energy and impossible to harness. You can "see" it, but you can't get a firm grip on it. You can try to grab hold, but you look like an idiot waving your arms and snapping your hands open and closed. At least that's how I feel I looked.

Like a child trying to catch snowflakes, I waved my arms, snapped my hands, and spun circles in a vain attempt to capture the intangible. I packed and unpacked summer clothes and shoes, Christmas dishes/ornaments and decorations. Twice. Just boxed them up for the third time, and though it is my fondest wish that the next time I peel off the packing tape it's in our new home in our new location, I no longer expect it.

2014 is the year of Acceptance. Like I do when I float the river, I will let the current carry me, but keep my wits about me to direct and redirect as necessary to avoid rocks and deadheads; otherwise, I plan to relax, focus on things within my power (like writing, education, fitness, prepping house and listing at market value, and spending quality time with family and friends), and if I end up stirring a back eddy for another six months—or year—I will smile and imagine Daniel Craig with a martini and Tom Selleck shirtless in his jean cut-offs turning lazy circles on inflatable-loungers right alongside me.

Deborah

Luck affects everything. Let your hook be always cast. In the stream where you least expect it, there will be a fish. ~Ovid

 

 

Friday...Celebrate the Small Things!

Sneaking in another Celebrate the Small Things post...


What I'm celebrating this week...


1) A great weekend away last weekend to cheer on youngest at his lacrosse tournament.

2) Another showing this week, and the potential buyers are coming back next week for a second walk-through. Yippee!

3) Learned how to turn off the u/g sprinklers during a torrential downpour (at midnight, in my bathrobe, while hubs coached me over phone); no need for sprinklers when the heavens open up.

4) Decided to put my name in for the contract position I was considering last week.

5) Booked hotel room for the Surrey International Writer's Conference!!

6) The sun shone today after a week of rain, which enabled boys to mow the pasture lawn.

7) Enjoyed a nice visit with eldest's girlfriend while she and I watched him play slow pitch tonight--a great time if one overlooks a brief rain shower and mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds.

8) I read all three of the books I bought little over a week ago, and enjoyed them all.

9) Finished review pass of All That Matters and started filling in the holes. Currently at 70,000+ words, which means I should finish first draft by end of June. Yay!

And last, but not least, # 10...

It's Friday!!

Happy weekend everyone! And if you have a moment, please comment...what are you celebrating this week?

Deborah

Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to risk life, to be needed. ~ Storm Jameson

V is for Valor

A to Z Challenge letter V today. And the theme, valor.

Valor. A quality of being that transcends physical strength, or mental prowess; a courageousness of spirit encompassing both pride and humility, honor and compassion, a willingness to do what is right at personal expense.

A soldier who takes a bullet to save a buddy, a policewoman who puts herself between an abusive drunk and his traumatized victim, a nine-year-old boy who submits to the strap after he admits to breaking the vase his two-year-old sister knocked over because he knows she's still bruised from the last beating. A grandmother who attracts the snarling pit bull's attention to give her grandchild time to get inside the house. Valor in action. Valor is action.

Size, gender, race, religion have no bearing on valor. It's a quality anyone can cultivate. A few do.

Today's blog is dedicated to those who do...

Firefighters, police, EMTs; teachers, mothers, fathers, soldiers; doctors, sisters, brothers, husbands, wives; pilots, nurses, veterinarians; birthmothers, daughters, sons; anyone and everyone who has sacrificed sleep, food, safety, limbs, lives; anyone who has put another's well-being ahead of their own, I salute you.

Valor does not require big action; it only requires action.

Deborah

To see what is right, and not do it, is want of courage. ~Confucius

Q is for Queries and Queens

Q-day in the A to Z Challenge and today, the theme is Queries and Queens.

Yesterday I mentioned the complexities of human behavior and emotions, how motivation is different for different people, how different people cope with similar situations, how novelists strive to write engaging—saleable—books. Today I share how one woman helped me cope when I finished my first novel and started to query.

A query is a letter, a business letter, in which the author pitches his/her work to an editor/agent in hopes of garnering enough interest to prompt a request for a look at part, or all, of the novel. Simple, right?

No.

Not really.

It's an odd paradox, but often the same author that writes 400 pages of compelling, heart-warming or pulse-pounding storyline, is paralyzed by the thought of tapping out a 400-word, one-page letter that condenses not only the entire novel to a one or two-sentence prevue, but promotes the author's credentials. Say what?

For the multi-published photo-journalist who's authored a novel featuring a photo-journalist caught up in international intrigue, or the criminal defense attorney whose main character is a defense attorney framed for murder, well, selling the creds is not as big a stretch as for, say, the stay-at-home mom whose novel shares the trials and tribulations of a Regency-era heroine forced to marry her nemesis in order to prevent him bankrupting her father. Or is it?

In truth, the only credentials a fiction author needs are good grammar, great characters, proficient execution, distinct style, persistence, and most importantly, positive attitude, belief in one's self, good friends, and thick skin. Without the latter qualities, the former are moot.

If writing a novel is hard, and crafting query letters daunting, receiving rejections to said query letters is absolutely demoralizing. That is where the positive attitude, belief in one's self, good friends, and thick skin comes in.

For the most part, I have a positive attitude. I believe in myself, and my writing. And I'm developing a hide a rhinoceros would envy, in part, because of a good friend who anointed me Queen, Rejection Queen.

To ease the unease and torment of sending query letters and receiving rejections, a friend and fellow writer in the the throes of querying challenged me to a contest, the Rejection Queen contest.

Rejection letters were no longer symbols of failure, but evidence of success—we were putting ourselves out there, tallying up the proof that we were serious about, and dedicated to, our craft. And that simple twist turned what could have been a traumatic venture, into an extraordinary adventure.

That friend, kc dyer went on to publication, and I to the paid workforce where I temporarily—okay, for ten years—abandoned my publication quest. But as I haul out my novels, finished and conceived, and prepare to resume my quest, I find I am better armored, with experience, and the strength of good friends, one who would name me Queen.

 

The elusive, estimable, and intrepid kc dyer. Photo by Deborah

D.


The emotions are not always subject to reason...but they are always subject to action. When thoughts do not neutralize an undesirable emotion, action will. ~William James

Turbulence

Life is turbulent.
                                           
From the first crushing instant of our birth when we're squeezed squalling from the warm liquid cocoon of the womb into the glaring clamor of oneness, we are struggling to adapt.

Mothers, fathers, grandparents, breast milk, and lovers and friends when we're older—much older—offer guidance and support, but they do not adapt for us. They wrap us in flannel, pat our backs, jiggle us as they pace the floor; apply Band-Aids, pour cough syrup, plump pillows; chase boogie men from under the bed and Exes from our lives; they help us study, invite us to movies or pub nights, laugh, kvetch, and commiserate with us, but they don't stop crying, worrying, or hurting for us.

Each of us chooses to accept solace, medicine, love and/or friendship; embrace wisdom, welcome new, tweak technique to fit our needs, and adapt accordingly. Or not. Change happens regardless.

I know. I've lived it. So have you.

Remember when your first baby tooth wiggled under the pressure of your tongue? Or you completed your first wobbly solo on a two-wheeler? What about that training bra, first kiss—and broken heart? You changed. Adapted. Traded white t-shirts for under wires and plastic Scooby-Doo razors for the real thing. Kindergarten to graduation; pig-tails to page-boy; Sippy-cup to wine glass; you changed. And adapted; often loving what Change brought you—driver's license, High School Diploma, Victoria's Secret, admiring looks, independence, your own bank account, new love, old money—freedom, and as you adjusted to eye hooks and inflated gas prices, so did those around you. Some better than others.  

I tend to adapt well—once I make the decision to embrace Faith and Change. It's In-Between that gets me.

Limbo and I are not good buddies. And I don't get along well with Indecision, either. Too often when they're around, so is their ugly cousin, Turbulence. And my perfectly ordered life hangs over a gaping chasm called Unknown.

I am there now. Like Wile E. Coyote, front paws on one side of the chasm, back paws on the other, taut, trembling; unable to move one way or the other without help, or risking a serious fall.

Hubby accepted a promotion. It requires us to move 400 miles to a new city. For six months he's split his time between here and there. When our house sells we'll all go there. Away from family. To other family. Away from friends. To other friends. Away from home and lifestyle we know and love, to one hidden the shadows of Expectation and Intent, the path there lit only by Faith. Our only guarantee is our lifestyle will change; and our love for family and friends will not. Here or there, there or here; love and true friendship remains.

In the interim, we adapt; me to single-parenthood, him to evening solitude. Limbo and Indecision hold sway to help us prepare, collect the tools, knowledge, encouragement, advice, and skills necessary to make the transition. And Faith gentles Turbulence's tantrum.

When you're 40,000 feet up, the landing strip still a long way out and the ride rocky knocking the oxygen mask into your face, you can close your eyes and scream in terror--or you can adapt. Put on the mask, tighten your seatbelt, hold hands with those closest to you, and remember to breathe.

And pray.

There are no atheists on turbulent airplanes. ~Erica Jong

Deborah

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

Ask, And Ye Shall Be Answered

So, I've been tossing around the idea of whether I need a website. Well, maybe not need, so much as, would it be beneficial to have one? A fellow author, and friend, advised me, yes.

She believes the fact she had a website--despite the lack of a book contract at the time--played a part in her securing a contract with Entangled Publishing. To paraphrase our delightful conversation over coffee in which she divulged some of her long journey to publication, she believed that having a web presence via Facebook, Twitter, blog and a website helped legitimize her intent; it verified to the editor--who no doubt did a web search before contacting her regarding her submission--her seriousness in developing a career as a novelist. Personally, I believe her talent played a larger part in her success, but she has a point.

There are a lot of wannabes out there. And serious players. What sets them apart is one thing: action.

Words on paper. Finished manuscripts. Revisions. Query letters written. And mailed. Rejections received. And sobbed over. More words on paper. More manuscripts. More revisions. More queries. More rejections. And somewhere in this exhilarating, tedious, bewildering, circuitous--and productive--process, a blog, Twitter, Facebook, and maybe, just maybe, a website. With a real URL. Like my friend's:

http://www.roxannesnopek.ca


So, in recent weeks, between writing/revising stints, and life, I have contemplated the next step--a website. Host sites, domain names, reviews...I've read, researched, scribbled and scratched. But, overwhelmed by the concept of creating more than an imaginary world replete with oh-so-realistic characters, I dithered. And dallied. And then I did as I often do when stumped--or stuck on the fence--I asked for a sign. And boy, did I get one.

Another author friend wrote this . And I swear, she wrote it for me. Or at least, Someone or Something, inspired me to go online. While there, I got to considering a website again; I decided to review my blog with an eye to how it might be improved; I spied my blog roll and seeing Vicki Pettersson had posted for the first time in a long time, I decided to click through to read her post. And it happened to be about the very thing I was thinking about seconds before! (yes, this is where you shiver and hear the X-Files theme music). How cool is that?

And reaffirming.

Once more I am reminded that I am but a vessel, a physical entity housing a soul connected. All our dreams, all our wishes, all our desires...they're there, waiting for us--when we're ready. We need only ask.

And act.

God gives every bird its food, but he does not throw it into the nest. ~Josiah G. Holland


Deborah


**Have you had a similar experience, or have ideas on the theme? Please share in the comments!**

Be Well

Four days 'til Christmas, and I am not ready. Seriously. And I have absolutely no excuse.

Christmas comes around the same time every year. December 25th. Without fail. And still, I am not ready.

I am not alone. There are others like me. Scrambling, fretting, tense and frustrated, teeth ground to nubbins because there is so much to do, and NO TIME TO DO IT. And yet it will get done. It always does.

Presents bought and wrapped, cookies baked, and turkeys stuffed. It will be done. Eggnog poured, driveways shoveled, floors swept, and seasonal dishes brought out of storage. It will be done. Furniture dusted, extra bedding washed, toilets scrubbed, and sofas denuded of cat hair. It will be done.

It will.

Five days from now, I will stagger from my bedroom to peer through puffy eyes at the wine stains, heap of trash and recycling, half-empty (or full if you prefer) drink glasses on every horizontal surface, and layer of dry pine needles and squashed food bits littering my floor, and I will smile. Because it was done. And I had fun.

That is what I wish you my friends. Fun.

Good food, good friends, good times with family, not only four days from now, but today, and every day.

Seasons Greetings. Happy Holidays. Merry Christmas. Hanukkah. Whatever this time of years means to you, may it be a time of joy and togetherness. Be well my friends.

Be well.

Deb

Dino to Dynamo!

I did it. I caved. I upgraded my old Pantech for--gasp--a Blackberry. I swore I never would. I also swore I'd never remarry again. Or move to a red-neck town like this.

I lied.

Twitter. Facebook. Text. Email. All from my phone. And only $10.00 mo more than I was paying for my dino-pay-as-you-go-phone. I can update my status, tweet, chat with friends all at the same time without getting out of bed. Perfect, as a current arm/shoulder/neck issue makes sitting at the computer (like now) a tad uncomfortable. For that reason, this post is short.

How about you? Are you a dino or dynamo when it comes to staying connected? Please share in the comments. And if you want to connect through BBM let me know in the comments and I'll contact you privately.

Deborah

Sorted out, sort of.

Twitter issues seem to be resolved. Still wondering where my fave Blog list went. I'll work on restoring that tomorrow. Today is booked for a 65th birthday celebration that we're hosting, which means domestic chores and wine rule the day.

Speaking of wine, ensure you keep an eye on Tawna Fenske's blog - She signed a three book deal with Source Books last year, and her first novel is coming out in August this year. Wine features prominently in her third book, Let It Breathe.

And if you're in a celebratory mood, pop over to Linda Grimes blog and help her celebrate her recent two-book deal with Tor. Go Linda!

And now I must go - laundry and food prep awaits. Guests are not far behind.

Deborah