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My friends can vouch for me, when I am happy I shout Woo Woo Woo! It’s something that just spits out of my mouth without any thought. Today, I am shouting Woo Woo Woo! I just found out that I won a great gift from The Writer Mama’s giveaway.
Just for commenting on her blog I won a book titled The Shy Writer by C. Hope Clark. I am super excited to read this book and love that the author’s name is Hope. I also won a super cool door tag from ninth moon that I will be putting to good use.
You can win too by stopping by her blog and leaving a comment.

Thanks Christina for the September Giveaway.
Good things happen in September, I just love this month and am proud to say I am a Virgo!
Woo Woo Woo!

I have made a pact with myself. I am getting my work out there, in hopes of seeing my dreams come to life. I have spent so much time, talking, daydreaming, and writing about writing that I have actually written less.

Let me reitterate that, I have written less material that I could try to have published. No more procrastinating, I am going full forward. I have taken writing courses, studied many books about becoming a writer, and now it’s time I take what I have learned and put it to good use. So, wish me luck.

 I know it’s a big sea out there, this little fish has to find a way to catch up to the bigger ones or at least leave an impression.   

My daughter knows I am always entering writing contests. I want my children to believe that whatever they put their mind to they can achieve. Rejections for me are notches under my belt, proof that I have been putting myself out there. Sometimes even the most optimistic person can become discouraged. Last night, my daughter asked me if I won the contest. She was referring to a small contest I entered about embarrassing moments in motherhood.

“No, I don’t think I won,” I responded. I always try to portray myself as having a large amount of confidence, because I think children become self-reliant when they have parents that exude confidence. Last night, I slipped and gave her a glimpse of me lacking belief in myself.

“Mommy will probably never really get anywhere with her writing,” I said. The answer she gave me opened my eyes and snapped me out of the self-pity party I was throwing.

“How do you know? Your life has not ended yet!” Her words made me rethink, regroup, and refocus.  Life is not predictable, sometimes when we think nothing will happen something happens. Thanks to the wise words of my seven-year-old, her confidence renewed my thoughts and slapped me back into reality. Nothing in life worth obtaining should be that easy. Giving up will only make it certain that whatever you wanted to happen, won’t.

Today, I am looking for inspiration. I am busy working on an assignment and putting together a portfolio for an editor at my local newspaper. To top it off, my kids are out of school early, so Mommy duty is in full force.

How am I looking to get inspired? By hearing of your first time published stories. What was your reaction? How were you informed? Did you feel like it was a long time coming?

So, go-ahead fellow writers inspire me. Sometimes we need to hear other’s successes to believe that we can do it too.

Leave a comment and inspire a fellow writer 🙂

The writer’s are on strike! I know this is not new news but it is still worth talking about. I have always wondered why writer’s were not given the same attention as the actor’s, director’s or producer’s. I am happy to see so many actors supporting the writer’s. After all, they set the creation of the script in motion. This is my Shout Out to writer’s everywhere. Do not give up on writing or let someone else destroy the love you have for your career.  I hope that you will not be behind the picket line for too long. Then again, art often imitates life and we may be in for one heck of a show after this one. 

I listened to a song the other day and thought -this would be a good song to hear on a bad day. The kind of song that makes you feel like somewhere someone knew how you were feeling and they arranged for this combination of soul touching lyrics and spirit warming melody to be played for you. After concentrating on the words your mood begins to lighten and you find yourself feeling okay. Okay, because you were touched through music and it changed the way you were thinking. So, today I decided to send out a song that someone somewhere might need to hear.  

If life is hard today – wait for it to get better.

Last week I wrote about how I didn’t win the Writer Mama’s writing contest. I was boo-hooing for a bit and feeling rejected. But today I am woo-hooing it and feeling excited. I just found out I won the September 4th give-away from commenting on the Writer Mama’s blog. I am super-super psyched. The books I won will be of great help and be put to good use, just in time for my birthday. So see, life has a way of turning bad days into good. And today is certainly a good one. Be sure to stop by her blog and maybe you will be the next winner. Let me know how it goes. Thank you to Peggy for commenting and letting me know I won. Keep on Writing, Reading, and doing whatever it is that brings a smile to your face. I will be walking around with my smile. I hear it’s the latest trend. :):):)

I am proud to say I am an optimist. I see my glass half full. If it’s half full, there is more to drink. Yeah life could be tough at times and certainly situations happen to all of us that we wish hadn’t. But in the big picture we are a lucky few. I once read that if you have spare change you are richer than most people in this world. Think about that for a second. More people than not have nothing or close to it. There are thousands maybe even millions that live in extreme poverty. My heart breaks every time I see a clip of a young child starving, standing in line for a cup of rice. They are not complaining that flies are circling their lips as they try to take a mouthful of mush. They are grateful to have something to eat. We all have bad days and there are times I myself can become pessimistic but on those days I try to remind myself just what I do have. I have a home to shelter me. My home is no mansion and can use a lot of work but it keeps me safe. I have choices when I open my refrigerator, sometimes the choices are less than the week before but still there is food. I have a cookie jar filled with loose coins that I can cash in on a rainy day. I have friends that I can call or write to when I need to vent. Even if the topic I am venting about is so silly I have people who will listen. I have a direct line with heaven and I call it everyday. Though I don’t get a verbal response there are many times I know my prayers were answered. I accept when the answer was not the one I was hoping for. I will not judge a person because I have not walked in their shoes. I give them the benefit of the doubt when they are miserable and hope there are valid reasons for them choosing that mood. I know there could be many reasons behind their behaviors including depression. I acknowledge this as a true sickness and sympathize with someone battling the terrible disease.  But for those of you that are crabby simply because you like to make other people miserable I plead with you to step outside of yourself and watch from a bystanders eye how you look.  If you see your glass as half empty, pour it out and fill it back up. There is but one life, at the end of the road you may look back and regret not recognizing the blessings you received. Call me a fool for seeing the bright side, but if living on the dark side is the alternative I will take it as a compliment. My cup is half full; there is room for much more. 

I am lazy. Why? I don’t know.

I am ambitious, although it doesn’t show.

My dreams differ from my reality, Can’t tell you why.

I see my vision before me, begging me to try.

I promise I will. I convince myself  it will be.

But here I am. Resting, sleeping, yeah that’s me.

One day I will wake up, my mind will run free.

Clarity will visit. It waits patiently. Hoping I will see.

Eventually I will resurface, emerging from the fog.

The dust of questions will settle and clear.

I will be energized, destiny is destiny, get rid of the fear.   

I did something the other day to help push me in the right direction. I took another writing class. This is an advanced course that will help with the completion of my novel. I want to be the person I envision myself to be. Not the person I am. Who is the person I envision? I see a go-getter, a girl who knows what she wants and then finds a way to get it. I know I am that girl, but I am also another girl, the daydreamer. The girl who looks out the window and fantasizes about what she wishes she could do. The older I become the clearer it is. Those hopes of a fool’s paradise are tangible if I utilize my time properly. I tend to waste time thinking about having a published novel rather than working hard to make sure my novel is published. I write everyday, probably a thousand words or more. If I took all the words I wrote for one month and added them to the novel I have started it might be finished. I stand in my way and I think it’s time I step aside. I fear failure but I fear success just as much. A wise person once said if you want something done do it yourself. I know there is no one out there that will walk up to me and say “Hey I heard you wanted to write a novel, tell me what you want it to be about and I will write it for you.” And if there was a person that offered to do that I would turn them down. It’s like stealing the answers from the kid next to you. You might get a good grade but you don’t get satisfaction or a sense of accomplishment. I want the good grade and know I studied very hard and earned it. I am who I am but it’s  I who could change me.  

I have heard the song Loser by Beck repeatedly over the last few days. It’s a catchy tune with a rhythmic beat and it’s repeated lyric was stuck in my head. The lyric that serenaded my thoughts were… I’m a loser baby so why don’t you kill me. It’s a bit morbid but catchy. Today I was excited to see the new Writer’s Digest nestled inside my mailbox. My mood quickly changed when I came to page eighteen. I wasn’t expecting to see the announcement of the Writer Mama’s contest so soon. I didn’t think it was going to be announced until October but then realized The Writer’s Digest I was reading was the October issue. Needless to say I did not win or even place for that matter. I am not bitter and truly offer my sincerest congratulations to the winner Kristin Carlson whose article was perfectly written. I am bummed out simply because rejection is a hard pill to swallow. We send our literary masterpieces (as we would like to think of them) out into the sea of boundless words and hope they will be returned with a gold star. We wait for days, weeks even months holding onto the cliff of our mind called wishful thinking.  When it is confirmed we weren’t even close to the brass ring disappointment rushes through our soul and we question why we tried in the first place. I have chosen to accept rejections as progress. The fact that we are being rejected means we are putting ourselves out there. And that’s better than having a desk full of manuscripts never sent. I have decided I will wait patiently for my gold star. I will take other’s accomplishments and make them my own. Because if someone else can do it so can I. I may have not won the Writer Mama’s Contest but I did have a fun time writing down my moment of when parenting and writing collide. I have decided to share it with you.  Though I was a loser this time around I still feel confident that one day I will be the winner.                                


  When you are a parent the sound of silence is both soothing and suspicious. I have spent a great deal of time deciphering which one I should take it as. Doing so has caused many interruptions in my writing career. I check on the kids. The boys are in my son’s room playing X-box. My daughter is sleeping beautifully on my TV room’s couch.     Excitement floods through me. I gather my slippers, journal, pen and thoughts. Sink down into my comfy leather chair, turn on a little music and prepare myself to create a piece of literature; I am sure will be a masterpiece. Before my pen could graze the paper I am presented with the first disruption.  Standing before me is my four-year-old nephew. His days are spent at my house while his mother works.                 

 “Aunt Mar,” he says smirking. My stomach twists a bit, Already, I think. “My bud needs you,” he states. By bud he means my son. “What does he need?” I ask. A twinkle of embarrassment illuminates his giant blue eyes.  “For you to wipe him.”  I jump from my chair and trudge upstairs to my one and only bathroom. Hunched in front of the toilet is my blonde curly haired little man bent over. His bare dirty butt is greeting me. I grab some toilet paper and continue doing what we Mothers do. After washing my hands and escorting them back to his room. I race back down the stairs. Hoping my thoughts can still be retrieved. After all I didn’t have time to write them down.  I let out a deep breath and plop back into my chair. It gladdens me that most of my original thoughts are still fresh in my mind. But, this time I will be better prepared for the next hindrance. I grab my pen and journal and furiously jot down my vision of words.     A stampede of heavy footsteps can now be heard above me. I pause and listen. It is obvious the x-box game has been abandoned. Maybe they will go in and watch the movie that is still playing from their last trip downstairs. I am thrilled when I peek in and see them sprawled across the floor intently watching the movie they begged me to buy. At last, I can finally start writing. I scribble down the clever title I came up with. Oh, this is sweet; I visualize myself drafting, escaping, creating, and then… reality hits.  The whaling of my two-year-old daughter is my wake-up call. So, once again I vacate my cushy chair and enter back into the world that inspires the very thing I write about.  

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