Back on Track

I couldn't not go anymore.  No more excuses, I used them all up.   After months of using all the excuses of moving, and injuries, rescuing kitten and every other excuse I could think off.  I faced the fact that I had to get back to exercise again.  The doctor told me too also.  *pouting*

One exercise that I love is Zumba.  So after work I brought my exercise clothes to change into, I went into the bathroom and while I was changing clothes I caught a look at my body in the full length mirror.  I don't have one at home.  Nothing sets a jolt through you like seeing a body that once was fit and tone now flabby.  My heart broke.  I stopped exercising and I ate my emotions again.   I learned a very valuable lesson last night, stay the course.  During all my trouble I managed to stay with writing.  Why didn't I do it with exercise?   I question myself for that.  

 What I mean is if I had stayed the course and kept up the exercise even in the face of all I had to go through, along with the writing, I might have been stronger not only physically but also mentally.  I feel like I let my self down.  I will never know how things might have changed or if they could have if I kept the exercise up.

My flabby body right now is a good symbolism of how I feel about my soul, mind and life. The only exception is the writing.   

What if I had kept up the exercise, would I feel like that now.  Would my body be better, stronger, toner?  Will my mind be better equipped to fight through my writing lessons.  Learning how to write, to be critiqued and write again.  It's like learning how to walk as an infant.  Children get back up and try again.  Sometime adults don't.   They lost that fight.



One thing I had forgotten was the really cool group of girls that attend the class.  There were a few new faces but the same regulars who gave me a hard time.  I guess the excuses are gone, I told them.  I'm a regular again. 

I feel up to the challenge of my writing now at present but would I have been even more determined?   I will never know.  All I know is that now I am determined to get back on track with my health, fitness and physical strength in addition to my mental strength.  This is the best time of my life.  Updates coming soon.

No matter what is going on in your life.  A good diet, exercise and something that you love, that makes you feel passionate about, stick with it, even in the hard time.  Be the best you can be.

All Pictures by pictures.com  If you wish one of these pictures removed let me know and they will be removed immediately.  Rm

The Writers Group and the what happened after.

I have a Writers Group that I attend once every month. This was the second meeting. We all belong to another bigger group and wanted to have a smaller group to do more active things like reading our work and critiquing each other plus feedback.

The first meeting we were all delayed because a few people named Ryan and Dino were going to be late and we all waited for them at a vegan café and coffee house around the corner from the library, our meeting place. Once at the library we really only had maybe less than an hour, so we all piled into chairs we picked someone to start reading and then we were off. I have to say the writers are very good.

This time the discussion was good with lots of feedback. Other read but when it came my turn. I read my entire first chapter. The first time I got to read my first chapter I only read a small portion of it at the other group. The feedback back then was very good but I felt that without reading the full chapter the group couldn’t get a real feel for the story. So this time I read the full chapter.

Once I finished the chapter we had a good discussion and I told a little of the secrets to the story. Again I was told that people wanted to know more. Overall the group was good and I learned a lot.

Later on Ryan read his story. If you read my last post on the Writers Group you may remember my comments of his stuff being dribble. Well it was dribble again. He writes a lot each day, and this day same as the others didn’t get a chance to edit it. Of course his face was turning red as he was reading, knowing full well how poorly written and badly editing was needed. But he continued. He seems so proud of his work, but once again it sounded like dribble to me. There was no plot; most of it was just narrative and very little interaction between the characters.

One thing about being a good writer is to show a story not tell the story. I believe the narrative that Ryan is doing is showing not telling.

Let me see if I can explain the difference.

Narrative.
In a small quant coffee shop Mary sat at her usual booth eating her usual sandwich. At the booth next to her a couple women were gossiping about everyone, when she overheard them talking about someone she knew, Simone. The women were gossiping about Simone having an affair, and her poor husband Larry.

This just glosses over the parts and in a lot of books there is a need for it but it is not very exciting. Now let’s take a look at showing the storyline.

Showing the storyline.
Mary was sitting in a coffee shop, the same booth she’s eaten in many times. Her favorite Roast Beef and Swiss cheese with mayo sandwich in front of her, a few bites eaten, when she overhears the people in the next booth talking.

“Did you hear Simone got caught having an affair with some guy she met at a dance and now she’s getting a divorce?” One of the women said.

“Really.” Mary thought, “Are they talking about Simone Simpson?

The other women excitedly chimed in, “I heard, poor Larry,” She tisks “He must be heartbroken. I know he loves her very much.”

“Ah!” Mary signed dramatically “They are taking about Simone Simpson. When did this happen and why? Larry is such a good guy.”

She had to know more, so Mary strained her ear as hard as she could to hear every detail. Then she was going to talk to Simone, knock some sense into her because as the other women said, Larry was a nice guy. “Why would Simone do such a thing?”

Can you notice the difference? Showing the storyline engages the reader, brings them into the story let them find out the same time as the characters.

Well this is how Ryan writes or narrates his story. It is very boring.

I find it funny since mine is engaging and gives enough mystery to make the reader continue to turn the pages. Okay enough about Ryan and his boring story. What happened after the Writing group is more exciting.

Last month all of the group ended up at a vegan coffee shop and talked for hours and had a great time. I had planned on going again this time. I don’t get many chances to go out so I was game for it, and expecting it, except no one was going. They all have other thing to do except Ryan. Of course, dread filled me but I was going and I was going to be diplomatic about it.

Ryan was a perfect gentleman who surprised me, he bought me an iced green tea and himself a coffee and we just talked about writing. He did say the first part of my story wasn’t very good. I do agree on that part and I’m debating how I will fix it, or just put it else where in my story.

Soon a blond woman showed up, I recognized her, she was in our other writing group. We exchanged introductions, Maria is her name, and made friendly talk. Soon it was clear to me that Ryan was using the group get together to get close to Maria. She is from Russia and has a lovely accent. I felt like a left heal but took it stoically. We did have a good discussion of books, mostly literature, and writing. Then when we noticed the coffee shop closing down Ryan suggested we go out for drinks. They both encouraged me to go. I thought why not, I’m old enough and want to check out the scene, so off we went to a local place with loud music and people milling around. It was interesting to me. One thing I love to do is watch people. It’s a great way to find new characters.

So while Ryan and Maria talked I watched people. And Ryan bought Maria and me a drink, which is something I rarely do. Again my opinion of him was changing.

At one point a group of people were doing a cute little line dance in the small dance area. I watched it carefully and soon had it down so I grabbed Ryan to dance, he grabbed Maria and we all trekked to the dense dance floor. As soon as we got there the music stopped and everyone disbanded. Oh darn, I knew I should have gone sooner. “Next time,” I promised myself I will go with or without dragging the others.

Ryan was still talking to Maria, he was showing her some of our crazy secret handshakes, and we were all standing together close in a small cluster. At one point Ryan put his arm around me and pulled me close then he took a picture of all of us with his camera phone. I noticed him trying to include me so I wouldn’t feel left out, which I appreciated. All in all I think having me there gave both of them the comfort of not feeling on a date and yet the chance to get to know one another.

I still had a good time watching everyone else. Around midnight we all went separate ways. The time out would have been awesome if some really good looking man saw me from across the room; sparks fly between us, and just had to talk to me. As he made his way to me, I shyly smiled and looked at him, encouraging him. Oh well, a girl can dream.

Share, laugh, cry, learn, grow, and bond with other women. Until next time.

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.