Update on Writing and Weight and a New Writing Group.

Weight first.
I had been mulling over the idea that if I continue to put bad stuff into my body that I am drawing myself one day closer to my death. Well every day that I live I am moving closer to my death, but the death will come quicker if my body gives out sooner that it normally would. If I was a drinker or smoker or take drugs, I would feel the same way. So I had been looking at that concept for a few days.

I decided to go on the strict diet again. I have succeeded for a few days, and feel comfortable, until today at work when I smell the fried food at the little restaurant across the street. They serve nothing but fried, greasy, hot dog, hamburgers, chili cheese fries, chicken sandwiches and breakfasts. They do not serve any kind of salads or good for you food. There is a corner store two blocks over that also serve fried greasy food. Neither place I can go to receive anything of value in the food department.

So when I smell that delicious fried food, I want so badly to go and get some. I am trying to be strong. I’ve eaten my favorite breakfast, strawberries, cottage cheese and half a bagel. But two hours later I am hungry again. (Pulling out the slices of oranges I brought from home now and munching on those. Maybe those will quench my taste for not eating that fried stuff.)

Writing Update:
In a prior posting I explained what happened at a creative writing class I attended. I was accused of using the class as a therapy group, which wasn’t true at all. I used the class to explore my writing. One person in the class who happened to be the friend of the editor who put the group on was indeed in therapy and at one point stated she spend some time in lockdown at a mental hospital.

I was using my work to help other young children who may be in or could be in the same situation that I was. The trauma was great when I was young and did considerable damage to me. If hearing my story can help other to see what is happening or could happen to them, then maybe it can be prevented.

I am talking about incest. Incest is insidious, it happens to both boys and girls. My story can stop the abuse for another. If they can know that they are not to blame and that they have control. Control by simply telling someone.

I have heard other people who have had tragedy in their lives write about there experiences and be rewarded for it. But for me when I try to help others, I get some stupid girl who is in therapy herself and thinks its cool to tell everyone she was in lockdown in a mental hospital for a week and on meds. (Shaking head here)

Can you understand why she would wrongly accuse me of using the writing group as a form of therapy? When in actuality I am using my writing to help others.

Even though the creative class turned out the way that it did, I choose to take the good that I got from it. The learning exercises, the friends that I met and still stay in contact with. The things in my writing that I need to work on.

Back to the writing group:
The good news is I found another creative writing group. The group is really a reading group, because we won’t be doing any kind of writing exercises, but reading our work and critique with discussion time.

The group is a fine group of writers; we belong to another group together but want to have the smaller group for further discussion. We gathered at a meeting room at the library and all went well until time ran out and we scrambled out before it closed at 9:00pm. Otherwise we would have been locked in for the evening. Then we all decided to further discuss our books at a local cafe. The cafe had a two man band playing really bad music, while we read the one persons work that we didn’t get to during the meeting, after a time the band went on break, and we did more discussion.

It was nice to find others who struggle with writing a book the same as me. There was one man there, his name is Ryan.

Before I tell you what happened I want to explain. Writers approach writing differently, some have ideas jot them down and then write what their ideas are and see if it can be put into a manuscript. Some writers write a word count each day and see if the plot forms out of it. Some writers write a plot then write as the plot develops. There are other ways to write, but the point I want to make is Ryan is a writer who writes a word count each day. So when we went to the cafe afterwards Ryan gave us copies to read during the bands loud noise and I gave only Ryan my first chapter, so he could have something to read.

After a while Ryan turns to me and starts picking apart my first chapter. Before I get into what Ryan asked me. I read what he wrote. It read as if it was a jumble of thoughts with no plot; I couldn’t distinguish anything about the hero, no name, age, what he looks like. I couldn’t even finish, but because others were reading I felt I needed to press on. But when Ryan started questioning my chapter; this line doesn’t make sense. This paragraph is kind of cheesy. I was shocked.

See, a first chapter is to introduce you to the characters, what they look like, a little bit of their motivations, and a little bit of a drama playing our to hook you into reading the story. The first chapter needs to have many mysteries and things to pique the interest of the reader and cause them to turn the next page.

When Ryan started to pump me for more information as to why this line read like this, I explained that I know the characters background, I know what he or she is thinking and feeling and to understand more he would need to read my book. He didn’t say much after that.

My book is completely plotted out from beginning to end. I don’t have endless rambling of nothing writing, leading nowhere. Ryan portrays himself as being an artist. (That last word said with a flourish.) But after reading his work, the first draft by the way, same as mine, which cannot be considered a finished product until it is revised many time and edited by a professional and looked over by an agent. So how can this man talk about my work like that? I really wanted to say something to him, but didn’t, because I didn’t want to squash him, or his work. (Anyway)

By the way the orange slices worked. I am not interested in the greasy food now. Whew!!!

So Share your own story here, grow with us and bond with other women. Hopefully my life will let you see that other lives are not any different than yours and that we are all connected. We can be a cohesive group support in times of struggle and need. Please feel free to comment and join the discussion.
Share, laugh, grow, cry, and bond with other women. Until next time.

Updates On Writing and Weight.

Writing Update: Creative Streak.
I got a streak of ideas in my head early Wednesday morning, 3:00am. I couldn’t stop the creative juices so I wrote down everything. It was so exciting to be open to the creative process like that. I was on a high for the next few days.

The more I explore the background of my characters the more my book world grows and the more creative the story becomes. What is more is the characters begin to take on a life of their own. I have heard of things like this before but never experienced it. I have to say, that as I am writing and my fingers are tapping on the keyboard trying desperately to keep up with my mind, I receive the revelations just as you would if you were reading it for the first time. I find this aspect of writing fascinating.

Writing or Journaling
Sometimes I think I don’t have anything to say; I get a recognizable yearning, so I just start writing and then a flood of stuff comes out. I found Writing or journaling to be a great stress releaser.

Sometime I just write down a stupid thing that happened and then I vent. I state everything. Such as the name I wish I could call them to their face. The way I feel about what they said or did. What would be a better way to do what they are trying to do? (Like my opinion is best. Oh well.) Then I throw it all away, and the action of throwing it away alone is lifting the burden off of me.

(I don’t get a chance to write my feeling out, but it is a good exercise. If anything my tying improves.)

Update on Weight:
If you know someone who is on a diet, would you bring a lot of goodies for them at the office or at their home if they’re family? (I am going to vent here for a moment. I am sorry but I need to say this.)

It is bad enough when a person is on a diet and trying not to eat all the wonderful tasting food out there, and using that food to ease their stress and pain, then to find some really good sticky, sweet, gooey and highly bad for you food that someone left. Have some consideration please. That is all I ask.

If you are wondering where that came from, I have a confession. I am not doing so well on my diet. My mind is good, but my hand is always reaching for something. My mind says reach for the wonderful mango, or whatever I have brought from home as snacks, but my fingers go for the energy bar that has 90 grams of fat in it.

You see, my boss gave me a box full of them. She bought too many and decided she would give me a whole bunch. (Don’t get me wrong I appreciate it. But I am trying hard not to eat them, but they’re so good.)

Then she kept me late at work on Monday, my Zumba class day, and I didn’t make it to Zumba. I told her on Wednesday from now on I have to leave the office at 5:30 on Mondays and Wednesdays to attend Zumba because my health is really important. Even if I eat a few bad things I still need to exercise. My boss, taken aback for a few moments, agreed.

What’s more I threw out some spoiled food again in my refrigerator. (You know how I feel about that.) Food that I told myself I would eat before it became expired. Darn it to hello.

I’m supposed to see the doctor in a few months regarding my thyroid levels. I wonder what he will think when I go in and will have put the 30lbs I lost last time I saw him, back on. (I can see him shaking his head now.)
He will probably try to put me on some kind of pill. The infamous little white pill, it solves everything. (NOT.)

And another thing: I still haven’t heard a word from my daughter. The one who decided she no longer wanted to hear from me. My negativeness she tells me. Ha. (Oh poor baby, her mother wants to stay in contact. The nerve.)

Oh boy I’m having fun venting here. I mean to be more professional, but I wanted to show all of you that I can be normal just like any other women out in the world that is going thru stuff.

So please join me and throw caution to the wind. Be anonymous if you wish. Just vent some of your frustrations here and let everyone know you won’t take it anymore. Come on its fun. Share live, laugh, grow, cry and bond with other women. Until next time.

Forcing One’s Fears: Update on Weight and Writing.

Writing: Wrote to an editor that I have on Facebook. He gave me some sound advice. He said to stop the inner talk and to just write. (He said a few other things but the main part I want to convey is the inner talk and just writing.)

I was debating where I was going to start; I haven’t written in so long I kind of forgot where I was in the book. So I thought about it a little bit. I know I have to have a love story between the two main characters I just didn’t know how. Then I started asking myself questions. How do they approach thing that happen. In doing this I realize that the characters will take a journey together when thing happen in the storyline. They will approach each thing differently and will bond during the events.
(Wow! I this is getting exciting.)

I also went back over my manuscript. Cutting and pasting the small passages that I had written out before, and getting rid of the ones that I double pasted in. I realize I had some missing parts. Now I am making plans on getting those missing parts together.

Now is the part I am most proud of. I spent 3 hours yesterday on my half day before going to work on the manuscript. I accomplished a lot. (So kudos to me.)

Weight: I started making sure that if I was going to eat something bad. I was going to eat the good stuff first then I won’t eat so much of the bad stuff. I will continue to work on my drug of choice. It is a constant struggle.

I did exercise at Zumba on Monday. And Wednesday I went bike riding around the area. It was a beautiful day, there were at least 6 other bikers riding the area just as me. I wanted to smile and wave but they didn’t acknowledge me. Oh well.
I still had a great time in the warm evening air, and I got my hear pumping quite a bit.

Other developments:
I had a falling out with my daughter. She and I used to have a good relationship until she married a man that is no good. To marry him is her choice and I will not say anything about it. However, he is isolating her. I know I am not imagining it because I talked with a women neighbor who helped my daughter before. This neighbor woman was the one who stated my daughters’ husband was not good to me without any prompting. Up until then I said nothing to anyone about him.

The neighbor heard my daughter’s husband yelling at my daughter and my grandson. All the other neighbors heard him, I’m finding out. I heard it because they were living in the upstairs on the duplex where I live, which is not a good idea by the way, to have family living that close to you. They moved away and now the new tenant, the owner, is very quiet. And we get along.

My daughter and I have been emailing each other back and forth and she is in myspace page connection. I read one of her blog journals and when I commented on it she flew off the hook and said she wanted nothing to do with me. Such is the life of a mother. Anytime we as mothers say anything to our children, they do not like to listen. So, Okay you don’t want me around me. {This is to my daughter. The next time you put your hand out to me to help you pay a bill, maybe I won’t be available to you.} Think about that.

Wow I needed to get that out. It irks me when grown children want everything but they are unwilling to work for it.

All are welcome to comment even men if you wish. Remember you do not have to be a member to comment and join in the discussion. Share, love, laugh, cry, grow and bond with other women. Until next time.