Writing Retreat

I get lots of emails and FB ads offering fancy writing retreats in secluded exotic places... I'm not sure which writers can afford to do all of those? My writing retreat happens once a year, in PEI between shuttling my kids to camp.

My Middles, the Bobseys are in two camps this week; hockey and horseback riding. (Do I need to explain further why I can't afford exotic writing retreats?). I drop them off, then plant myself at Starbucks (or the rink lobby) and peck away at my computer.

There's something to be said about having dedicated time.

My mind feels calmer.

My body feels more still.

My energy feels full.

And I've written nearly 25K words!!! With that comes a new drive to finish this WIP and move onto the next stages, editing, covers, publication! I'm aiming for my favourite release date: February 28.

N

What to write

I've written stories (short and long), poems (really bad ones), professional reports, essays, research studies, lab results, excuse letters for the kids' schools, complaints, opinion letters...

... Today I have the honour of writing an obituary. If it takes up 300 pages to write a pregnancy story, a few months in dystopia, a day in the life of high school, how do you sum up a whole person and 104 years in 200 words? (The first answer is, you don't. I cheated and tripled the target.) But still. It's one thing to make up characters and dance them through drama. It's something else entirely to do justice to a real life with all the real love, loss, happiness. There aren't enough words.

N

Writing Interrupted

Mondays and Fridays are my 'Writing Day's. When I decided to make a go of this writing thing for real, I shifted my day job schedule and loaded hours on T/W/Th to leave M/F for writing. BUT, if there are kid appts, they are made on M/F as well b/c I don't lose money when I take time off writing...

Today there's double duty - a doctor's appt then a dentist appt for different kids. The chances of me finding a solid hour to peck away at the computer are frighteningly slim. And then there's the bag of Dairy Milk and Ritz mix that I've been saving for a writing day so I don't have to share them with anyone. Sad all around.

N

Back to Reality

Ah, vacations.

Everyone's back to real life today and, in true Sampson fashion, my alarm didn't work this morning. And by 'didn't work' I mean I probably turned it off to shut it up. I don't remember. Wake up to Kids at School was thirty two minutes... not bad! That included a shower for me, though I suspect none of my kids brushed their hair.

There are a bazillion things I should do this morning. The house looks like it threw up on itself. Especially the kitchen. If left any longer the dishes may sprout arms and wash themselves. The couch is taunting me with cushions that are uneven and sliding out of place. The dog is reminding me that he is a terrier and needs exercise in order to not be an asshole. Someone spilt Cheerios on the floor in the kitchen and those fuckers stick to socks so it's like getting a rock under your foot that crunches and crumbles with every step. Laundry. Laundry is like a good setting for a horror movie - you see the situation unravelling and know it's no good before the stupid characters do....

but I'm determined to write this morning.

If the dog lets me.

N

Last Day, New Year

It's the last day of 2015... the eve of a new year.

I'm compelled to write a blog but why?  What makes the turn from December 31 to January 1 any different than from January 31 and February 1? or June 4 to June 5? This milestone is an arbitrary, artificial one really, hyped by parties and greeting cards. Right? But it begs review of the year past and evaluation of the year to come.

In 2015 my immediate family was blessed with all the important things - freedom, opportunity, passion, health and happiness. But we have many loved ones who have been challenged with poor health, tough choices and uncertainty. Aptitude was released and has done well with reviews and feedback.

So what comes in 2016? Lots of exciting things - It Should Have Been a #GoodDay comes out on my 40th birthday... people will turn 10, 12, 14 and 11 (and some bigger numbers). There will be job contracts, team tryouts, piano exams, school assignments and tests. Maybe even the Paralympics in Rio!

Honestly all indications show 2016 may be our toughest year yet... and I don't remember facing a year with that in mind. It's a bit daunting. But come it will and so we'll have to figure out how to navigate it together, as a family, as a team.

Best wishes for a Happy 2016!

N

Wow...

... Where did December go?

I love Christmas. I love the lead up, the day, the relaxing days afterwards. The days with no where to go, no where to be. TV and pjs and snacking all day. Phone calls and visits and reading and sleeping in... what's not to love?

From my Nuthouse to yours, Happy Holidays, whatever you celebrate enjoy — be kind to yourself, love others and breathe.

N

Fraud Police

A friend recommended the book The Art of Asking by Amanda Palmer and I listened to it during our trip last winter. Pretty impressive book. At one point I had one of those moments where a fear I thought was mine alone was described and named and I realized I wasn't alone. She called it the Fraud Police. There are moments where I am sure I have fooled everyone around me to think I actually knew what I was doing, was worth their respect, was good at something. I've had it in all aspects of my life - professionally thought, "Who in their right mind gave me a real certificate to practice speech pathology?" in my parenting pretty much from "They let me leave the hospital with him?" to "I'm sure children's services will be by any minute to try and salvage this royal f*ck up of a job I'm doing".

But what it pertains to here is my writing.

What is a writer? This is what Google says:

I am the writer of three books, but that sounds suspiciously past tense.

I write books, though "job" is a strong word.

And when I'm sitting at my desk trying to write something that is stuck, or pretending to write but getting distracted by everything from cat videos to Facebook - am I still a writer? What if I stay stuck forever and never get another good book out - am I a writer then?

And what makes success? A finished book? A published book? A good review? Ten, twenty, a hundred good reviews? A best seller? I'm targeting the Nobel. They must feel pretty pleased with themselves. :)

N

Running out of Gas

This morning started later than most as it was Steve's morning to get the kids to school almost-on-time. I got up and walked the Devil's Spawn of a dog, then walked the girls to the bus stop, then drove them to school because we missed the bus (at both bus stops). I raced home to do a couple tasks and run an errand before meeting at the school to discuss bullying and how not to let my kid bully others. Great convo. Seriously. Then I ran home to pick up some necessities before my next meeting and realized i didn't have my wallet. A call to the office determined it was there, that's fine, a stop on my way to my 11 meeting is doable if I leave now. Race off again, to the office, grab the wallet, back on the road to my meeting, through traffic and up onto the highway and then... the car died. Died. On the highway.

I'd known I was pushing it, had squeezed the fill-up in either just before or just after my 11 meeting that was at a Starbucks beside a gas station. The extra stop for the wallet wasn't that big a difference right? Wrong. Who knows if I'd have made it without the roundabout route.

And as I sat on the highway watching traffic fly past me (and conducting a work meeting by phone since, hell, what else was there to do), I realized it was kind of poetic in a nasty way - I tried to jam one too many things into my morning and the means of my travel cut out. kaput.

I've been feeling like that a lot lately.

N

Vicious Cycle

Happy Monday! Happy September!

I've been lost in a vortex ... obstacles of time and energy and lack of direction stopped me from writing or drawing since early August. Sure I did some editing and reworking of things, but no creation of new words or pictures. And the lack of creation sunk me. Low. Like Gilmore Girls marathons of inertia low. Which plummeted both my motivation to do and my confidence that it was worth doing at all. Course, while I'm lying lazy on the couch, pile on some unbelievable stress ... I was trapped.

Do you get like that?

I've said before that writing and drawing keep me even. It reduces stress, gives me energy, makes me happy and helps me breathe. I forced out a drawing yesterday, and pounded out some words today. They're probably not my best, not flowing or natural but forced and choppy and artificial... but they're down. And I'm a little bit lighter for it.

N

Passions

Usually on Friday I get to write... which is pretty amazing. I sit quietly at my desk with my 47lb cat in my lap and peck out words that string together to create stories. Pretty cool. "Passion" seems like the wrong word because it's not frantic or heated or impulsive - it's quiet and reflective. But I love it.

Other passions - art, reading, baseball, pets... and today I get to watch my son share one of my passions. That might be my favourite way to experience passion - watching one of my kiddos learn to love one of mine. Often I am begrudging when I have to give up a writing day to do something else but not today. Today I get to watch my eleven year old play baseball. And by 'play baseball' I mean 'throw himself all in' to the game, down and dirty, full out, game on. He loves it. And I love to watch him.

My elder daughter loves shopping and drawing.
My younger daughter loves reading and animals.
My oldest son likes to write and read.

I love all of those things - my passions - but my favourite thing is to watch them learn to love it.

N

Happy Summer

School is OVER!

So are my productive, quiet, pensive writing days.

Course today is all on me - a sleep in followed by useless internet surfing... I've gotten nothing done except the 32 words I've just written here. 37.

That being said, I need to accomplish some things today - I have a report to write for the grant I received last year and I am starting to get the flow of my latest WIP so I want to keep moving that forward.  I'll just have to do it with a little more chaos. :)

Happy Summer!

N

Friday

Happy Friday. Fridays are my favourite. A day to write in my quiet house with the whole weekend ahead... Today I'm battling a cold and forcing my foot (and my pen) forward. I'm struggling with my new story which is feeling stalled and heavy footed right now. I feel stuck, pushing forward against the grain. In more ways than one.

N

Reluctant Post

It's Friday. I typically post here on Mondays and Fridays, so pattern suggests I should post something.

But posting something will bump other posts down, so the last post - Monday's - won't be at the top. Move on. Move past. It brings out my inner toddler - I want to kick my feet and scream 'don't wanna!'

I've had four nights of uninterrupted sleep. No trips outside, no requests for a snack, a water top up, no restless 'I-don't-know-what-I-want' wanderings. I'd rather be tired. I poured my cereal this morning without being stared at. Or barked at. Without having to explain that cereal is for people and you've already been fed. It's a lab thing.

And I'll be able to sit in my chair all morning and get stuff done without getting up a hundred times to  open doors, fill water bowls, move beds, scratch ears. I'm sure I'll get lots done, right? If I can turn off my heart.

In the weird world of timing and coincidence my task today is to work on my new story. Both Aptitude (September release with FIP) and Henry (Indie release in February) are back to editors to be spruced up so I'm free to move on. Move on.

Sure. I'll get right on that.

N

Limitation of Art - Goodnight my Boy

Writing and drawing are magic... they make 11yr old orphan boys into world saving wizards and simple portrait smiles into mysteries. But they are not limitless. They are better at creating new realities than authentically depicting truth.

I met the perfect pup and for 13 years he was mine and I was his. I can draw pictures of him. I can write stories. But I can't recreate how soft his ears were. Someone might say 'soft as silk' or 'soft as velvet' but the truth is, his ears were softer. And words, pictures, can't depict how the thick fur at the scruff of his neck curled around itself, and around my fingers when I stroked him there. Or the curls where his back legs met his sides. Or the warmth of his pink skin where his fur was sparse on his belly - the place he liked to be scratched the most. Or the wrinkles that raised up when he lifted his ears - which was almost anytime he looked at someone. He smiled with his whole body, from the wagging tail that wiggled his bum to his lab-faced grin. Even when he hurt. He was always happy. He was always love. How do you draw that?

I'm heartbroken. I know people have faced worse  losses - I called him my 'first born' but recognize the difference between a perfect dog and a human child. I called him my 'soul mate' but of course he wasn't my life partner of 50 years. But he was mine and I was his and he was my one shot at perfect love. Perfect love. How do you write that?

The surprise came when he was gone. I expected the heartbreak. I expected devastation.  I've been there before, lost cats and a dog - lovely furry souls - but never my first born soul mate. Never my once in a lifetime.

I didn't expect peace.

Peace. Like he was still, not gone. He is with me. But isn't that where soul mates belong? I'm heartbroken and devastated, but at peace. And so is he.

N

Happy May Friday

My favourite being on this Earth is a 13 year old lab. He's perfect. He adores sleep and food. He adores me. And he's 13. I booked a vet appointment to check in today and spent time last night crying because I was scared of what I may learn or hear at the appointment. But I got good news! His kidneys, which were concerning last fall, have returned to normal performance now that he's been off meds for a while and the vet had another suggestion to help manage his pain. I was so relieved. Still am.

I came home and dove into some editing... I'm really happy how that's going as well :)

All around a great day so far. My me-day is ending as chauffeur time is getting closer - music, hockey and errands are pressing.

N

Worthy topics...

What makes for interesting reading?

I was talking with a friend the other night about finding places to publish and we started talking about magazine articles and creative non fiction. My initial reaction to creative non fiction is "My life's too boring to write about." That's not a bad thing. I don't have some deep dark secrets to document, I don't have huge life struggles or trying times I've overcome, I don't have dramatic life experience.

So what do I have to contribute?

My friend listed several ideas, regular everyday boring ideas that maybe aren't so boring:

being a hockey mom to girls - is it different from boys?
dealing with single parenting while Steve's away
trying to kick my sugar / carbs addiction
why I shaved my head
trying to find some new TV to watch
struggling to get back into art or sports

It's not trauma and triumph but it is daily life...

N

Shakespeare

My kids participated in a Micro Musical, a programme sponsored by the provincial government to bring 30min musicals to elementary students. They LOVED it. They spent the week learning songs, lines and choreography and put on a show Friday night. The play was awesome and they had the best time.


What's better though is the experience has prodded an interest in Shakespeare. They want to read the plays! They're 10 and 9 years old so I figure I shouldn't throw my beautiful Complete Works from University at them just yet, but I found this series in Chapters. The original Shakespeare plays are on the left side of the page, an updated language script on the right so you can read in old or current English. My kiddos picked Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet and I added A Midsummer's Night Dream thinking maybe they might need some light in their Shakespeare exposure.

Who knows if they'll actually read it? I'm so excited that they're aware of them and interested. I love sharing passion with them - hockey, reading, art - I love seeing them gain happiness and excitement from something that I love. 

N

Lost

I had my blog post already composed in my head... then the ending changed.

Yesterday when I was towelling off from my shower my necklace caught on the towel and opened so that the pendant slipped off. When I noticed it the necklace was open and the pendant was gone.

I was given the pendant by my parents several Christmases ago. They had it adapted at the jeweller to replace four of the diamonds in the design for my kids' birthstones - two blues, a green and a purple. I've worn it pretty much every day since, never really taking it off.

And just like that it was gone.

I knew it was in the bedroom or bathroom but I'm not all that tidy of a person. My husband and I have a unique filing system, the piles of clothes and stuff get kind of out of control...

I couldn't take much time to look for the charm when it went missing - it was nearly 6:00 am and I had to race two chicklets out the door for hockey practice. I thought about it all day and when I finally had some time at 8:30 last night I went through every pile in the path I supposed it might be, shaking each piece of clothing out listening intently for a ping of the charm falling on the laminate floor. Nothing. I put away my ginormous collection of hoodies. I even found my missing car keys in the process... but not what I was searching for.

There's something about missing a thing that has become a part of you. A thing that you don't really even think of much until it's gone, and its absence becomes bigger and more pressing than it's quiet presence had been. After I'd shaken out and 'refiled' the last of the piles I didn't know where to look next. Steve assured me "it's here somewhere, it'll show up" but that didn't help much. Or at all. Without any further place to look, I got ready for bed. As I changed, the pendant fell out of the clothes I was wearing, the clothes I'd worn all day.

Even as I'd looked, it had been there with me hidden and safe. So you can draw your own hokey conclusions to this story - "you don't appreciate what you have until it's gone" or "what you're searching for is nearer to you than you can imagine" or "you'll find something once you stop searching"... Me? I'm getting a stronger necklace.

N

Reincarnation

I suspect in a past life, I was a bear.

I put flannel sheets on the bed Sunday night, and all week I've pined away for the soft, warm cocoon that happens when I curl up under the covers and tuck them in around my shoulders.... sigh.

When I get overwhelmed I shut down like that... I want to hide. If the kitchen is a mess, instead of digging in and getting it cleaned up, I leave the room so I can't see it. If the world is caving in, demanding too much, stressing me out, I retreat and cover my head. It's not a helpful strategy, but sometimes it's exactly what I need.

Today though, I'm not stressed or overwhelmed - there's no immediate mess or eminent cave-ins... the bed is just so warm and cozy... maybe just a quick nap...

N

Happy New Year

Happy 2015!!!

I ran away to Disney World with my family the past couple of weeks... we had a fantastic time riding rides and seeing shows. Though I feel now that we've all seen it, we've seen it... it was fabulous, but no need to go back again - our next family vacay will be a different adventure.

I thought I'd read a tonne of books while I was away! In fact, I loaded up my Kobo with several I've been meaning to read. I finished one. And got part way through another. I guess I just picked big books.

I finished All the Light we Cannot See, which was wonderful. It was poetic and sad, uplifting in parts and unpredictable in a way that most WWII stories are not. Very good, pick it up if you get a chance.

I also made headway in Far from the Tree, which is a non-fiction a client shared with me some time ago. It's heavy and slow but fascinating - a discussion about how difference (including disorders and such) can drive unique identity and how those identities contribute to our world. It's LOOOONG, each chapter is over 100 pages! But interesting on every page.

N