I Almost Forgot I Was a Writer

It's been three weeks since I've touched my MS or read something for my critique partners. I haven't even thought about my MS. Haven't read any writing blogs. Barely have I solcialized with my twitter writer peeps. I've barely even read a book! Between kids being home for summer and vacations, writing times are tough. Now that I am home, I will try to resume to normal. ("Try" being the operative word. Until kids are out of my hair, that may be near impossible.)

Being away from my craft for so long, I almost forgot I was a writer. It's a silly notion to think one could forget. It's like leaving house without your shoes. Not likely but possible. How do you forget? It's this thing called life and it can get carried away and keep preoccupied.

Now that I am home and I have three seconds to ponder my story a bit, this warm fuzzy feeling stirs in my gut. I get a little tingly thinking about what I need to sit down a work on next. This tiny realization rushes over me as I remember... I'm a writer. It feels like home, to settle myself firmly into a writing frame of mind. Like burrowing your feet deeply into the warm sandy beach and knowing this is the place you really want to be.

How about you, do you ever forget you are writer?

Checking In From Tennessee

Still visiting my family in Tennessee.  It's hot but I love being home.  Didn't quite post every day like I had idealized.  That's life.  Have not touched WIP or critiqued for my critique partners at all (sorry guys).  I hope to get to it when I get back home.
(The flower to the left is a weed.  My favorite.)

What am I doing?

• Picking wild blackberries.  So juicy and delicious.  I hope I find enough to make a cobbler.
• Swimming and laying out by the pool.
• Riding four wheelers
• Feeding the fish at my father's pond and when they come for the free meal, we catch them.  That's lazy man's fishing.  So mean.  We throw them back.  Less dangerous than shooting them with a pistol.
• Eating chicken livers because they are the best ever!

Here are the critters we have seen since we have been home (and I'm not talking road kill):

• Momma skunk and her three babies teetering across the road.
• Possum and six babies scattered on the highway at night.
• Young raccoon.
• Six vultures (pecking at a squashed armadillo.)
• Three wild turkeys and their chicks.
• Giant bull frog, size of my palm.
• Donkeys, goats, Shetland ponies, buffalo, lemurs, llamas, horses, and cattle. (all owned by various family members.)
• Bats, bats and bats.

Does any of this matter?  No, but I love nature and revel in the chance to see it up close and personal.  Something my California boys never get the opportunity.

Why I Love Going Home

Fried green tomatoes just a backyard away.

Homemade Muscadine Wine.

Tiger lilies on steroids.

Hibiscus on crack. 

Cicada shells to creep the kids out.

Butterflies the size of your thumbnail.

Butterflies.

Butterflies.

Butterflies.

Butterflies.

Gah! Packing!

Tomorrow I'm heading out!  I'm going to go visit the folks for a few weeks.  Gonna get my twang on. Hope to get some reading done.  ~The duds I've picked up recently have made me skittish.  I just don't know if I can take another boring/poorly written/self-absorbed book.  Hope to get some critiquing done...but probably not much.  And editing my MS, Ha! Not. Gonna. Happen.  There will not be enough of a time block to sit down an focus while I'm in Tennessee. I do think I'm finally at that stage I need to print off a hard copy an see it in full.  You know?  Even though parts of it are broken, I need to see it in paper form to smother it in post-it notes and make a good set of notes in the margins.  By the time I red ink it to death, it will truly make the pen mightier than the sword.

But never fear, I plan to blog every day.  Key word "plan."  Plan to and what actually happens are two different things.  There are few days I will be without internet so plan or not, it won't happen.  Also, my posts will mostly be about me and my life in Tennessee.  Whether it be about now, childhood, etc.  So you'll get to see a little more about me.  Hopefully (dude, enough with the adverbs already) you find it interesting.

What are your summer plans?  Do they cramp your writing too?

Profanity Incognito Really Isn’t

WARNING: Profanity will run rampant in this post.  Easily offended is fair warned.

On Twitter, Facebook and in blogs I see swear words disguised as: a$$, effing, f**k, Shiz, mofo, beeotch, mugger fugger, sh**, or WTF.  Just to name a few.  I understand that the purpose of disguising a swear word is to try to come off less offensive and/or to keep your tweets, blogs, status rated PG.   I’ve done it myself. And I have no problem with people disguising their words for whatever reason they see fit.

But I have to tell ya, when I read a$$, I still read “ass” not “a money money.”  Or if you write WTF, I read “what the fuck” and not “double-u tee eff.” 

Who are we really fooling?  Do dollar signs really censor the word or more importantly the meaning?  Even using darn instead of damn, is still considered cursing, according to dictionary.com (verb 2. to curse; damn/ idiom 3. give a darn. damn.)

I’ve never had a problem with cursing, among adults.  To me, it’s the meaning/emotion behind the words I put value on.  For instance, which do you find more to be more hateful?

                “This is the best fucking writing ever!”

                                         or

                “Your fucking writing sucks like a vacuum!”

(For the record, I appreciate some censorship, especially in music.  I always buy the clean version when available or I can’t listen to it around my children.)

I know a lot of people find profanity offensive, so I will continue to disguise my words, occasionally.  But I have to ask, does sprinkling colored sugar on a pile shit make it a chocolate cupcake?