I Promised I Wouldn't Whine...
Wait. What? WHAT? I went almost a whole month without a blog? What is going on here? What kind of insanity is this? Is this another dimension? Is this another dimension where people wear shiny unitards and talk into their watches? No. All is well. All is very steady and well and slightly boring. I also made a promise to myself to stop whining so much and, uh, you can see the effect of that on the blog…or lack thereof. I mean, I THOUGHT of plenty of topics. I wanted to whine about trying to lose weight and seeing a dietician, and the new yoga classes I’m taking, and trying to cook healthy foods like quinoa and hating it…but in all those blogs, I just sound sorta douchey.
Then I wanted to blog about being rejected for the seventy-sixth time for my memoir and be all “What? My childhood isn’t painful or interesting enough for you?” and “Why are all the agents mutherfuckers!” and “Why won’t someone just give me a CHANCE?” But that just made me want to punch myself in the face.
Then I thought of blogging about everyday issues with the kids, and why bread makes me feel bloaty, and the trouble I’m having with this new book I wrote. It’s great. I love it. But it’s only 20,000 words and if I want to be published ‘for real’, like a ‘real’ girl and not Pinocchio (aka self-publishing), then I need to add 60,000 words to it. And. I. Don’t. Want. To.
See, though? See? Even my blog about not whining has turned into a massive whine of the old SNL skit Pat variety!
In short, I’ve lost the focus or point of this blog. I don’t like pushing my fiction because I feel like a bully when I do it. And I don’t like writing too much about narrating, because I don’t want to get in trouble for saying too much or not enough. And I don’t want to whine. And I don’t want to be a dink. And I just want everyone to get along and be happy.
So. Ehm. Maybe it’s time to revamp my Dip Blog. Maybe I should put all my angst into THAT. MMmmm. Angst Dip. Good with gluten-free crackers.
If you have any input here, let me know. Why do you read this blog? Do you like train-wreck Tanya, or slightly-mal-adjusted-Tanya, or bloated-Tanya the best?
I’m trying to figure everything out. It’s making me tired. But I’m not WHINING. I’m really not. That high-pitched sound is just a mother fucking LEAF BLOWER.
Ahem.
I mean, amen.
I just had multiple epiphanies
What's better than one big epiphany? A series of prolonged little epiphanies. That's what.
I’m done whining. At least for a little while. I do apologize for my last post where I was all “Woe is me!” I’m over it. I’m glad I didn’t chuck the whole idea of writing and self-promotion and marketing, because then what would I do? Chalk drawings probably.
After my prolonged tantrum, I had a series of epiphanies. The epiphanies felt so good I think my toes curled. Mmmm. Epiphanies. Anyway, these realizations inspired some decisions. Most of them begin with pseudo-swearing, because honestly, I sound kind of ridiculous when I really swear.
1. Blast! I’m going to stop complaining and get back to what I do best: write. Or is it writing. Whatev.
2. Tarnation! I realized that ebooks sell great…if you write erotica or paranormal stuff. Quiet novels with saucy language, well, they don’t sell as well. I considered writing “Three Men and a Little Semen” but then quickly reconsidered. So….
3. Muther humper! I’m going to send out “Foodies Rush In” to the other editor who requested it. If she doesn’t want it, I’m publishing the book myself so that I can move on to the next thing I want to write.
4. Holy smokey! The next thing I want to write is to finish “Tunnel Vision” and return to a novel I abandoned ten years ago called “Fortunes Told Above Rusty’s Grille”. Both of these stories are literary fiction, but with my quirky stamp on it. I’ve been afraid of literary fiction. But I’m taking it back.
5. Daggnabit! I had hoped to do a reading/book signing of “Pepper Wellington and the Case of the Missing Sausage”. I was going to have my cousin sing with her duo (she plays accordion and everything), serve drinks and appetizers, and have it be super cool. Originally, it was going to be on a Thursday…but cousin can’t come. So, I found a place that I could rent on a Saturday. May 28th. The only date I could get. Everything is pretty much booked through July for theater events and weddings. I was excited. Then my cousin reminded me that the day I booked is Memorial Weekend. So. Yeah. It’s hard enough to get people to come to a reading on a regular weekend, let alone a major holiday. Reading/signing is cancelled…BUT…
6. I’m going to do an Awkward Book Tour instead, with a little help from the Blunder Team. What’s the Blunder Team? Click here to read the post on that. Anyway. Starting in Mid-May I’m going to have flash signings. Not ‘flash’ as in I wear nothing under my cape (scary), but ‘flash’ as in instant. I’ll tweet/facebook a location, set up a hand-written sign in a restaurant and sign books while I eat a gigantic sandwich.
And finally
7. Stuart at Sound Post says I can record “Pepper” for audio book release. Even though I can’t do a reading in a cool location with wine and appetizers, you can still listen to my work while getting sloshed and eating too much in the comfort of your own home.
And that’s it. That’s my series of epiphanies followed by decisions. I’m tired now. This whole thing has worn me out.
I haven’t even written about my experience at last week’s Art Downtown/Site Lab yet. Man. Stories to tell.
Those stories will have to wait. I’ve got to crack my knuckles and get back to work.
Ouch.
Melodramatic Writer Meltdown
I’m having an existential writer moment. At least I think it’s existential. Hell. Basically, I’m just throwing a tantrum. I get so tired of promoting all the time and then when I see my sales report (abysmal) it’s really hard not to take it personally. It reminds me of auditioning…even dating…where somehow you’re never quite good enough. To wax old-gold-digger: Tarnation!
I guess this is the modern life of a struggling writer, or any artist really. You have to produce work, believe in your work, constantly put it out there, and hope that it catches on. I wonder though, sometimes, at what point do you just give up? Not that I’d ever give up on writing, but I do think sometimes of giving up on trying to get a big publishing house, or even promoting my current work.
I just sent out a dozen free books to people in hopes that they’ll help spread the word about my work. There’s no telling if it will work. That all comes out of my pocketbook. I had to buy the books to give them away. Ouch. And I paid for some advertising. Promo stuff. Etc. etc. And now I’m looking at doing a reading/signing at St. Cecilia. I couldn’t get Schuler’s to call me back. A reading is a great idea, but it will probably cost me about $500 with food and promo materials. And there’s no guarantee that anyone will show up. (See the onion spoof here. It’s funny because it’s true.)
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve been swept up in some massive scam that gets writers to pay for promotional material and even their own books. Then I immediately stop thinking about that because it’s too sad.
Wah. Wah. Wah.
I think this is just another temporary setback. I’ll get over it. It just comes at a time when I still don’t know if my teaching contract will be renewed and I’m not sure how many more voice over gigs I’ll get. If teaching tanks and I’m not selling books…dear god…what will I do then? It scares me. Deeply. Probably not the best time to watch the first episode of Mildred Pierece where she’s all starving and looking for work. I do not want to be a waitress again. I really don’t.
I’ll get over this and my tight pants. I’m not dieting, exactly, but I am upping my workouts. I probably need the endorphins. And I have wonderful friends and family who read my work and love it. And, of course, I’ve got my kiddos and Kealoha. It’s just sometimes I get tired of all the work and I want to see the fruits of my labor. And by fruits I mean ‘income’ and by labor I mean ‘writing’. That’s my dream, I guess. To one day see my writing pay off, literally.
It might never happen. So…guess I’ll just continue doing what I do. I might bitch about it every now and then, but sheesh, I’m endlessly flawed and human. And my zodiac sign is Cancer, so what can you expect really?
And Mildred Pierce eventually made some kind of fortune out of pies or something, didn’t she? I haven’t watched the whole thing. I’m afraid maybe she has some kind of confrontation with her daughter involving wire hangers. (I could be mixing up old movies here.)
I’m hoping all this will blow over when it’s finally sunny outside and I can get over my angst and put on a sundress and a pair of sandals. That’s all I really need. OR…I could pretend I’m in a 1950’s melodrama. I sort of like that idea. Let me go get a hanky so I can flit it around while crying dramatically, and without tears.
I leave you with some melodrama. Enjoy.
Blugh
It's just one of those days.
I don’t know if it’s the dreary weather or the fact that the kiddos are gone with their dad and are up in Canada…or maybe I’m just PMSing…or maybe, just maybe I’m a moody mofo, but I don’t feel like doing ANYTHING today. It’s not like I haven’t done a ton already, but now I’m sitting here in my yoga pants and big tshirt and I keep looking at the clock trying to figure out when I can eat again and it wouldn’t be considered gorging.
This morning I had a voice over before school so I went to the studio waited for Joe to get done recording. I was cracking up. He had to say the line “Mmmm. That’s some tasty beef” like twenty times. Each time he said it, he had a little more enthusiasm. It was hysterical. I’ve had to say ridiculous things. (Some of you recall the time I had to say in a commercial “Boy! I just love to sit on a big deck!” It was a restaurant with a deck party and I had to REALLY enunciate the word ‘deck’.) This morning, though, it was just a warm and fuzzy bank commercial. I had to make sure I had a smile in my voice. Mostly, I just wanted to scratch myself.
Then I went to school and prepped for the next two and a half hours. I forgot my lunch and picked up the worst tuna salad ever. It was noodles, tuna, peas, cheese and straight mayonnaise. Blugh! Then I went to class and we talked about beauty and why is there suc h a pressure to be beautiful and I said that I’d been trying to lose five pounds for twenty years. It’s true. I’m never thin enough or smart enough or pretty enough or successful enough. It was a great conversation, but I ended up just wanting a donut. I schlepped home. I was starving so I heated up delicious dinner from last night. made some coffee and then looked at my To Do List. That was three hours ago. I’ve since played an hour or so of Angry birds, complained about the weather, looked at myself in the mirror and said “Oh, just give up on those five pounds already” and then went to watch TV.
Even TV didn’t work, so I turned to youtube thinking I could post a clever video, but the only search term I could think of was ‘funny’.
Now I’m here. Yoga pants, tshirt, and half an hour until Kealoha gets home and we’re having pea soup and grilled bacon, cheese and apple sandwiches.
I want me some sunshine and warm weather. And a book deal would be nice too.
If today’s blog isn’t exciting enough, I leave you with 9:43 seconds of a dude mowing his lawn. FOR REAL. At least it looks warm.
Random Thoughts: Best with Depressing Music
bluh
I know. I know. It’s bad form to double-post. But the previous post was from writer-Tanya and this post is from whining-Tanya. They are two entirely different people (on good days). My DVD player is broken and I drank too much wine and then waited and took a valium for the dentist tomorrow (per prescription. Don’t worry about the wine. I ate and waited first) and now I feel all wobbly. And I feel old. And lonely. Whaaaahh!!!
*insert pathetic babyish crying here*
Random Thoughts
#1 Two weeks ago I went to Comedy Monday at Dog Story. I’m not currently performing there because organizning and producing the radio plays took too much energy for very little reward. I just can’t keep doing it. So I was there to run box office and to help out. It was a fun night, though people seemed to look through me since I was “Box Office Staff” and not “A Real Person”. And then I was going to stay and do the open improv jam and I looked at all the people staying and they were all in their twenties. A few were in their thirties, but they’re still single and I felt…well….really, really old.
When you’re single, divorced, a single parent, it does something to you. First, it makes you unreliable because there are always issues with babysitters and the kids and family and job obligations. Second, you just can’t seem to shake a constant sense of responsibility. Third, it makes your boobs droop.
So I looked at all the young people and single-no-kids people and I thought “We don’t have a thing in common”. And then I drove home.
#2 I love my house. I love it. My kids love it. And now they’re at their dad’s. He lives, now, a couple of blocks away. His fiancée now answers his phone when I call to talk about the kids. He needed to pick up some things for our daughter and sent his soon-to-be-step-daughter to pick it up for him. And I sat on my deck and had a glass of wine and I thought “Huh. 6 years ago we were married and now I talk more to his fiancée than I do to him.” Our would-be-anniversary was yesterday. The whole day passed and I didn’t realize it until today.
#3 I decided to stop online dating. By stopping online dating and waiting to meet that Special Someone naturally, I’m now not dating at all. And I want to be. I’ve had a few offers from very nice men but I can’t…I just….I need someone who’s my age or older. Who knows about life and struggles.
#4 I miss kissing. I miss lying next to a man in bed and falling asleep with our bodies touching. I miss cooking for someone and adding just a little bit of sexiness into a meal. Food is sensual after all. I miss phone calls and texts. I miss someone thinking about me during the day. I miss daydreaming about coming home to a man and kissing him before he can say a word.
#5 Even food isn’t appealing anymore, though I eat a lot of it.
#6 My pants are tight. My broken foot caused me to gain weight, and though I’m trying to up my activity level, the weight stays on. It’s like a bad memory I can’t shake, because it’s not a memory at all. It’s with me all the time.
#7 I don’t know what I’m doing anymore in my career. I want my teaching to be permanent. I want health insurance.
#8 While life is varied and complex and mysterious, I also wish it weren’t so blasted lonely and hard.
#9 I want to buy a sundress and wear it for someone special.
#10 I want my fantasy life for just a while to match my real life.
I think I’m depressed. I need a good cry. I need to go for a run. I need to make out. I’m not kidding. A good old-fashioned makeout session would cure all of this.
Maybe it’s back to online dating after all. God help me.
Dear Universe: Bite me.
Here's where I throw a tantrum and blame the universe for everything.