Barking at the moon

I've been neglecting you dear blog. And I'm sorry. It's been almost two weeks. Where did the time go? I know where. To work and to my project for school. This weekend was full of me working on my play adaption, cuppa coffee in hand.

Coffee is my main drug of choice right now. I say main because Advil helps too. I get headaches from so much computer use and Saturday, my neck ached from the hours spent staring into a screen. 

Many don't know, but I write my blog on my phone but with the formatting of play adaption, it's not doable on a small device. 

I thought adapting it would be easy. But writing/adapting a play is a whole new animal. There's descriptions, staging, stage directions and revising and adding dialogue. And the formatting!! Torture. Self imposed torture.

The chapter I'm currently adapting is dialogue heavy, but it's still super difficult to figure this out. It pains me, but when I get an even small section done (I'm on page twelve after three weekends of working on this), I'm happy. It's rewarding I guess. Tedious. But rewarding.

Last night, Frodo was barking for hours. He started in about midnight. Padding downstairs, I asked him, "what's wrong?" After taking him out over and over, I'd had it. By the fourth time, I took him out in the back, looked up at the sky and thought, just bark at the moon. 

In a way, we're all just barking at the moon, living lives of quiet and not so quiet desperation (credit to Thoreau for that paraphrased quote) with occasional moments of bliss.

Like when you get that scene just right. It is wonderful. It is true blue like you. It's all we can do. So write. 

I'll be me

There's a Replacements' lyric (from a song called I'll Be You) that says,

"Lonely I guess that's where I'm from..."

I'm not feeling lonely nowadays. While I may still "be a rebel without a clue" at times (another Replacements' lyric from that same song), I don't want to be anyone but me. 

It's as if the clouds opened up and I got to see who I want to be and who I am and the two visions are not so far apart. Since I was a little girl, I always dreamed myself into stories. Now I dream stories into being. These are my books, my stories that I'm reading from. And I'm so very grateful.

None of this could happen without my dedication and lots of support. I'm so very lucky to have a great family, a supportive husband and the best writing friends a gal could ask for. Every opportunity I have ever received is because of my relationships with other writers.

Sometimes, I want to pinch myself. Am I really part of this community of writers? I've loved books so much, forever and ever, and to have other writers I admire lift me up is amazing. All I can do I guess, in gratitude, is to try and return the favor and support other writers in return.

Now I am not yet exactly who I want to be. I am still anxious as hell. I didn't sleep the night before my UCR talk because my anxiety was outta control. The day of, all I could do was breathe, do my makeup, drink espresso and pray I would do ok. 

And it was a beautiful experience. Epic. I'll never forget it. 

No longer am I the girl under the bleachers crying. I've made it. It felt even better than the day I got my USC law degree. Because this writing thing, you see, it's all for me and in memory of my dear departed dad. 

It's all love baby. Just love. I'll take it. 

Awake

I'm wide awake. Eyes wide open. In many ways. 

Since my recent surgery, my sleep patterns have been off. I'm up weird hours. Sometimes, when I wake up at 2 or 3 am, I just stay up. It's wrecking havoc on my energy levels and driving my poor husband bonkers. He needs his regular sleep. 

So tonight, when my eyes popped open at almost midnight, I padded downstairs to spare him. It's now 1:37 am. 

The term "AM" (AM vs PM) is an interesting one because it also reads as "am" meaning I am, meaning I am awake, and I am here. I am not sleeping. No longer. 

You see, I've been asleep for far too long. Metaphorically speaking. But not anymore. It's as if I'm seeing everything in startling hues when before it was in black and white. Like Dorothy stepping into the technicolor world of OZ. 

It's almost blinding it's so darn bright. This is the brightness of reality. 

That said, I'm glad I'm awake, but being awake is hard. It's easier to slumber with eyes closed in life. Gliding through not seeing all the horror around you. 

Don't get me wrong. There's a lotta beauty in life. A whole lot. Mountains of it. Yet, there's a lot of sadness, tragedy and injustice too. And I see it now and can't undo the lifting of the veil.

What I'm here to say, I guess, is that the only relief for me is my art of writing. Transcending the sadness with an escape into story and words is the only way I can breathe my friends. 

So here's to taking a deep breath and writing our own stories, and amplifying those of others, one step and one word at a time. 

Crossroads

Believe it or not, I started this blog over 12 years ago. It seems like yesterday, but also like forever ago. 

It took me days to make the blog site. I remember working on it while sitting at a Starbucks in Los Angeles. For the life of me, I can't remember why I was in LA but I was, and hours later, I had a skeleton with pictures and my first blog post. It felt wicked. It felt a bit subversive. It felt private, like airing my inner most thoughts. 

Plus, even if no one read it. It was all mine. 

It started with just one story, a story about me doing the sprinkler dance at the public defender gala. Like most of my writing, it was humorous and self deprecating. Looking back, that first story is not the most well written of my blogs but there's something there. Some might call it a voice, or an energy. 

Twelve years later, from one blog to hundreds and from two readers to well over a thousand every month, I am so proud of the effort I made to write a blog almost every other week for twelve years. It is not perfect. It's not meant to be. Over the years, my blog dealt with weight issues, mental health, my infertility journey, death, grief, love, justice and most of all, creativity. 

Sometimes, especially when I was grieving loved ones lost and my miscarriage, it felt heavy. I wondered who would want to read these sad, melancholy tales? 

Maybe I overshared some days, but I couldn't help it. But people suffered through with me and maybe found a light of hope in my writing and kept reading. So I kept writing. And writing. 

These days, most days, I keep on asking myself where to go and what to do. Most of my recent blog writings have focused on these questions. I've done so much. Two books, a podcast, my one class at a time MFA and many appearances. But still, I have to focus on my work as a deputy public defender. My day job is important to me. It made me who I am.

So I'm at a crossroads friends. Which way I go is yet to be seen. So tune in. It will be a roller coaster ride. Promise.

Stop

I can't sleep. I can't dream. I just lay here staring at the ceiling.

Man, sometimes I want the world to stop. I'm running again. It's exhausting. Telling myself to slow down the hamster wheel hasn't worked. Someone needs to stop the roll.

Then I think, the world only slows down when you need it to. Do I need to slow it down? They say if you're asking the question, you already know the answer. So yes, I do. 

But how? Stop. Hold still. Keep inhaling. Exhaling. Again. 

Last night, I took the dogs out and there were so many stars in the sky. All of the constellations blinked at me as if to say. Look at us.

I stared up at the blue velvet blanketed sky. My anxiety was overwhelming me, but in the minute I took to just stare at the stars, I took a few deep breaths in and out. I asked the universe to help me and show me how to bring everything to a manageable pace. But really, we all know this, I was just telling myself, reminding myself, and asking myself, to take it easy...

There are times I wish I could be satisfied with what I've accomplished, but I always want more which is, surely, a quick way to unhappiness. Because I don't need more. I have everything I need. 

So for today, I've decided to just be. I'm gonna take it easy baby. 

Where to go

Where do I go now? What do I do? 

My book "Tales of an Inland Empire Girl " is out in the world. Finally. I'm happy. The book albatross has turned into an eagle. It's soaring around the states and soon the world. The book has already ended up in Ireland and is on its way to my cousin in France.

But what's next? I have goals. Promoting my book. A mini JEM style Cali book tour. I have another Barnes & Noble lined up and virtual appearances at UCR and AWP. I know that I need to put out more feelers to bookstores and podcasts. Adapting the book into a screenplay or stage play is also on the horizon.

I'll tell you a secret. But don't tell anyone. I wear a bracelet with my goals in a tiny scroll inside. Many of them have come to fruition. A few still remain unfulfilled, but I see them happening. I need to add more.

Just tell me what to do and where to go universe. My heart and mind are open, my body is poised and ready. I'm putting out my wings to fly.