I'll Get You New Novel (& Indian Music Video)

I woke up early this morning thinking I’d be productive and get some writing done. Then I sat at the computer for an hour tweeting, stalking random people on Facebook and looking up Indian pop songs with ‘supposed’ translations.

Man. What am I doing?

I’m working on this novel called “Tunnel Vision”. You’ve probably seen posts here. It’s killing me. The novel sometimes feels like a dysfunctional relationship. Like, if the novel were a man I were dating, I’d feel like, oh, I’m not smart enough or good enough or devoted enough to understand all the mind games. It’s making me crabby. What I need is some serious one-on-one time with the novel. Like a romantic getaway in a cottage somewhere, only there won’t be any romance or love oil. Just me staring at the endless blank space that is Tunnel Vision’s future and thinking “Good god…what on earth happens next.”

I don’t have time for love affairs with new novels, healthy or unhealthy. This was my day yesterday:

4:30 AM Cats woke me up by head banging against door and then jumping on me and biting my face.

4:31 I flung cat across room and then jumped up immediately feeling horrible saying “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

4:35 Fed cats wet food to assuage guilt.

4:36-8:00 Random things like packing the kids lunches, wiping noses, putting cough medicine in juice and then mixing it, fixed breakfasts, rubbed cats, worked on computer, took a shower, wiped more noses, struggled into coats, into car, then daycare and then off to work,

8:01-11:20 Graded papers, tried to look professorial, taught a writing class where the students basically just wrote and I pretended I was helpful.

11:30-12:40 Shoved a sandwich in my face. Ran to River City Studio. Recorded a webisode.

12:41-6:00 Drove an hour to Muskegon. Narrated for an audiobook for two hours where I tried to channel South Carolina accents and might’ve ended up sounding just slightly relaxed and/or drunk. Drove home.

6:00-8:30 Shoved a sandwich in my face. Went for a walk with a friend of mine and talked writing and relationships and why we do what we do, and when, like Rob Gordon in “High Fidelity” do you stop fucking around and commit?

8:31 End of day. Kicked back with Kealoha and watched Dexter AND Boardwalk Empire.

Where’s the time for Love Fest with “Tunnel Vision”. Hmm. It’s right now. And I’m blogging.

I’m going to conquer this novel. By God, if I have to dress up in a big old dress and wax all “Gone with the Wind”…this novel will not defeat me! I will go on, as god is my witness…I will go on!

But not today. Maybe…oh…I dunno…next week.

A Short Story--What I Want to Know about my Mother

This is a story that was published a year or so ago in "Kalliope" a journal for and by women. I think they're defunct now. At any rate, this is one of my favorites. I'd entirely forgotten about it until a friend of mine was digging on the site and re-earthed it. I like the poetic feel. Most of my stuff lately is comedic, but sometimes, I like the lyrical quality of words. I wanted, here, to write a story about understanding, and loss, and longing...and this is the result. Hope you enjoy it.