aside from the mama thing

It Is All Boy Meets Girl But What Comes Next

Blogging | February 9, 2010

I am trying my hand at fiction and I can't shake a funny god complex. I feel like I am shuffling pawns around on a chess board. There is a measure of letting go and being in control. Letting your imagination go but making clear decisions. I am writing a story, a love story (blushes) and I am daunted by the end. I feel pressure. What will these people do. What is the tone, what is the message, what is the underlying message to me. Is there always an underlying message to the write. Is there always something about the writer that is revealed in them telling a story. Is this true of all artists? I am not sure.

I am embarrassed about writing a love story. It is coming out so naturally. It is easy to write, it will be easy to go back and clean it up. I get so hung up in what other people will think. I am practicing not caring but it is tricky. So I wrote a love story. We have all been swamp footed with cheese and love. Some one has to tell it.

I managed to do a lot of writing today in spite of Opal. She did her playing and I wrote. I think the fiction didn't demand a part of my psyche that memoir writing calls from me. With the memoirs I am driven to give the atmosphere and need concentration and I need to travel and be in my heart. The fiction is an easier journey. Hmmm. In this light I think I feel a little freer about it already.

So that was my day. Opal and writing and the cat. He is so mad at me. He has cancer and we are doing our best to keep him comfortable. He gets delicious, yummy food with filet chunks of silver fish to eat and rose water in his drinking water and he eats at any time he demands and we are all stopping at any chance we get to give him pats and belly rubs. Today he had to get fluids. I went to the vet for a lesson in administering the fluids. Subcutaneous.

Under the skin. He did great at the vet. He hardly moved. At home a different story. I was able to get all of the fluids in but he left quickly and has been giving me the evil eye all day. He also shrinks his body away at my touch. But he looks much better and seems better for it so I don't feel terrible but I miss him. I hope he forgives me by tomorrow.

This weekend is the memoir festival in Woodstock. We are going to be away. I wish it was a different weekend and I could go. I would love to see the writing community come out of the woodwork and meet some people. I have decided that if I am not going back to school that I need to take some workshops, find a group to write and read with so I have a dynamic to be engaged with as I do my work. I will have to figure out how to find a group I like.....

Tomorrow is supposed to bring snow and the possibility of no school and s house full of kids is looming large. I foresee no writing tomorrow.


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About saidee brown

Been making some changes. The bits that will remain. I have three young children. One is not yet in school. Time is limited and sacred.
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Categories of Published Work

A Visitor

By SAIDEE BROWN
Published: January 28, 2010

A visitor can weave magic over the house.

In The Parking Lot Where We Decide About Life

By SAIDEE BROWN
Published: February 7, 2010

We make decisions to remain in our lives. I am the greatest escape artist in the world. If I wrote down all the routes I make in my mind it could be a handbook for the trapped and disenchanted.