In a cloak the color of Spanish moss, she follows the path through
the ancient cypresses of the swamp. The only sounds are the squish of
her bare feet in the mossy mud and the call of a loon. She parts the
knee-high fog, which slithers behind her to cover all traces of her
passing.
She glances back, and a long coil of dark hair falls out
of her hood to rest over her shoulder and against her chest. Foggy
eyes wide with worry scan the wet, dim trunks and bruised skies.
Bothered, she quickens her pace, dotting the hem of her cloak with the
murk splashed by her feet.
She carries a use- and age-darkened
scroll and slides her hands along it as she approaches a set of vivid
red stairs. She stops -- her left foot just above the bottom step -- and
inhales sharply. Around her, the trees have turned to twisted spires of
metal, and a thousand head-height shafts of rebar pierce the fog, each
one tipped in red.
Her nostrils flare, and she shakes her head in
disbelief. Biting her lower lip, she rushes up the stairs and straight
through me.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Birdsong
Spring is coming. With the warming weather comes a rapid increase in birdsong. There is one call in particular that stands out -- a mocking bird. With each song, he says, "Hey ladies. This is my tree. Come on over and check out my nest." One long tweet followed by a lower-pitched short tweet and then a slightly higher, off-key short tweet and I am thinking of the swings and the first time I ever heard the mockingbird's song.
When I little, about once a week in late spring and all summer, my mother would pack up our giant, wooden picnic basket with the smiling sun on top, load us into the car, and take us to Memorial Park on the backside of the public swimming pool. My brother and I hung from jungle gyms, dirtied our bottoms on metal slides, got stung by yellow jackets, and (my favorite) swung on the swings. These were old-school: black plastic U-shaped sling seats that burned your legs on summer days, long just-rusting chains, and towering A-shaped pole supports.
Tweeeeet, tweet, tweet, just like the squeak of the chains as she swings. Listen! He thinks he's found a mate, but it's her on the swing. Poor, poor bird.
Back, forth, the pendulum child stretches out her legs, leans back on the chains. Higher feet, higher. She reaches, reaches and scoops the clouds with her soles.
Down she goes, knees tucked tightly. Lean forward now, but don't fall out!
Soaring, reaching, stretching, yearning, until she gets so high that the chains go slack. Weightless for a moment, her bottom leaves the sling, then she returns, the chains catch with a loud clang. Watch your fingers, honey, the chains pinch. They leave blood blisters and blood and a worried mother. Fingers safe, she wobbles wildly for a bit on the back arc.
When it's the dry, hot misery of late August, she watches as the poured concrete around the pole wiggles in the grassless dirt. She sees the earth crack, sees the pole puff out dust as it settles at her lowest point. She wishes for her brother, because if they synchronize, they can get a bit of the pole to come out of the ground. They can see how the concrete looks like a crumbly, gray mushroom. It won't come out too far though. These things are buried deep (lawsuits and all).
Tweeeet, tweet, tweet. She swings up, up. At the highest point, she leans back and lets go. Little girl, let your feet fall over your head. You will stick the landing with a smile.
When I little, about once a week in late spring and all summer, my mother would pack up our giant, wooden picnic basket with the smiling sun on top, load us into the car, and take us to Memorial Park on the backside of the public swimming pool. My brother and I hung from jungle gyms, dirtied our bottoms on metal slides, got stung by yellow jackets, and (my favorite) swung on the swings. These were old-school: black plastic U-shaped sling seats that burned your legs on summer days, long just-rusting chains, and towering A-shaped pole supports.
Tweeeeet, tweet, tweet, just like the squeak of the chains as she swings. Listen! He thinks he's found a mate, but it's her on the swing. Poor, poor bird.
Back, forth, the pendulum child stretches out her legs, leans back on the chains. Higher feet, higher. She reaches, reaches and scoops the clouds with her soles.
Down she goes, knees tucked tightly. Lean forward now, but don't fall out!
Soaring, reaching, stretching, yearning, until she gets so high that the chains go slack. Weightless for a moment, her bottom leaves the sling, then she returns, the chains catch with a loud clang. Watch your fingers, honey, the chains pinch. They leave blood blisters and blood and a worried mother. Fingers safe, she wobbles wildly for a bit on the back arc.
When it's the dry, hot misery of late August, she watches as the poured concrete around the pole wiggles in the grassless dirt. She sees the earth crack, sees the pole puff out dust as it settles at her lowest point. She wishes for her brother, because if they synchronize, they can get a bit of the pole to come out of the ground. They can see how the concrete looks like a crumbly, gray mushroom. It won't come out too far though. These things are buried deep (lawsuits and all).
Tweeeet, tweet, tweet. She swings up, up. At the highest point, she leans back and lets go. Little girl, let your feet fall over your head. You will stick the landing with a smile.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Tickled
"You write books?" This is what a student asked of me today. I can't help but laugh because it's laughable. I am a math professor - not at all what most people invision a fiction author to be. Yet, I am. I am! "When does it come out?"
"May, after final exams."
"Well, what is it about?"
"It's a modern-day version of Snow White."
Her eyes bugged. "I would read that."
My response:
"May, after final exams."
"Well, what is it about?"
"It's a modern-day version of Snow White."
Her eyes bugged. "I would read that."
My response:
Friday, March 1, 2013
Book Update
The artist emailed me a draft of the cover for FAIREST. It's very pretty, and I only have a few things I'd like her to tweak. Overall, I am very happy with it and will be happy with it even if she doesn't make any changes.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Works Always in the Works
I have a series of which I have written six books. Because my timing is absolutely wretched, they will most likely never be published unless I do it myself. I might, one day, but right now, I don't have the time to do all that I would need to do to make such a thing worth while much less successful.
After receiving a rejection but with excellent feedback, I decided to attempt another rewrite. I've spent the last two weeks editing books 1 and 2. As with every time I open the files and dive back in, the story pulls me. My heart and soul went into these characters and their lives, and it is sometimes painful to me that I am the only one who has met them, who knows their struggles, their shortcomings, their saving graces. The main character reflects quite a bit of me, and many times I have written her experiences and thoughts with tears burning my eyes and throat.
I'll have to think about it more, but I may post chapters or scenes here. Camellia's story is dark, and most people don't do dark.
For tonight, I will just share one of her thoughts:
After receiving a rejection but with excellent feedback, I decided to attempt another rewrite. I've spent the last two weeks editing books 1 and 2. As with every time I open the files and dive back in, the story pulls me. My heart and soul went into these characters and their lives, and it is sometimes painful to me that I am the only one who has met them, who knows their struggles, their shortcomings, their saving graces. The main character reflects quite a bit of me, and many times I have written her experiences and thoughts with tears burning my eyes and throat.
I'll have to think about it more, but I may post chapters or scenes here. Camellia's story is dark, and most people don't do dark.
For tonight, I will just share one of her thoughts:
Loneliness was a catching illness. I am an adult. I am strong, physically and mentally. The loneliness shouldn't get to me, but somehow, it always does.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
EA* Imitates Life
I had not played Sim3 in about 3 years, but when the house was
struck by lightning just before Christmas and we had no internet, I got back into it. I made
Sims for myself, Fluffy, and Spawn. At the point when this conversation occured, I was top level in the
science career, Fluffy was a gardener/inventor, and Spawn was a
firefighter (We have since all retired and are awaiting the Grim Reaper.).
Me: I hate that I just now realized they'd added that you could be a teacher. I would've made my Sim do that since I'm actually a teacher.
Fluffy: Well, you can always re-start your game, try again.
Me: And go through raising Spawn all over again? No.
...
Me: I should've made you a teacher, too. I mean, what else are you going to do? I don't know, if I could get a job that paid well enough, you could be a stay-at-home dad.
Fluffy: Really? If I did that, I would take care of the house and even do home improvements. I actually enjoy that kind of stuff when I'm not also having to work.
Me: Sure, and I actually enjoy teaching.
Fluffy: I am so in love with you right now.
Me: Of course, that means we could never leave the south because we wouldn't be able to afford to live on one salary anywhere else.
Fluffy: Buzzkill.
*For you non-gamers, EA is Electronic Arts
Me: I hate that I just now realized they'd added that you could be a teacher. I would've made my Sim do that since I'm actually a teacher.
Fluffy: Well, you can always re-start your game, try again.
Me: And go through raising Spawn all over again? No.
...
Me: I should've made you a teacher, too. I mean, what else are you going to do? I don't know, if I could get a job that paid well enough, you could be a stay-at-home dad.
Fluffy: Really? If I did that, I would take care of the house and even do home improvements. I actually enjoy that kind of stuff when I'm not also having to work.
Me: Sure, and I actually enjoy teaching.
Fluffy: I am so in love with you right now.
Me: Of course, that means we could never leave the south because we wouldn't be able to afford to live on one salary anywhere else.
Fluffy: Buzzkill.
*For you non-gamers, EA is Electronic Arts
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Real Life Updates
1) Last Sunday, Spawn turned one. We held a large party (in my opinion) of family and friends. It went better than I expected - all the children had a good time, no one had a meltdown (including Spawn). It was stressful, but it was good.
In the time I spent with Spawn and looking through pictures of the party, I noticed how interested in other children Spawn has become. He needs friends his age, but every time I think about putting him in daycare or a mother's day out, I think a) I don't have the money for that b) Spawn is so healthy and I know he will be sick all the time if he's in daycare c) Once I find a full-time job, he'll have to go to daycare, so I should just enjoy having him home and teaching him myself while I can.
I keep telling myself I just need to try to enjoy him while he's little, especially since he will probably be my only child. Taking care of him can be so exhausting. It's hard when you need a break or you just want to go out, see friends, or shop and you can't.
2) Friday, I received my signed contract for Fairest. It has been put on Eternal Press' publication schedule for May of this year. I've returned my author information sheet, so now, I'm just waiting to hear from the editor about suggested changes or corrections.
I'm amazed by this little book. I started it as a NaNoWriMo project in 2010 and gave up after 15,000 words. In 2011, I added a few more chapters before I gave up. I moved on to other projects for a while before I made up my mind to finish it. Unlike most of my other works, this one is stand-alone. Those other stories, even if I have finished entire books of them, are still unfinished. I had a chance to complete something with Fairest. In summer of 2012, I did. It was fulfilling to finally FINALLY finish something. It has a beginning, middle, and end.
I spent some time editing it and tried querying in September. When it received no interest, I sent it off to friends and had another go at editing it. Then, on a whim, I decided to look for publishers instead of agents. It's not easy to find YA publishers who take unsolicited works, but Eternal Press does and did! I was so used to rejection that I had to read the email twice before I realized they wanted my book!
3) I have applied for twelve jobs across the southeast. I am qualified for all of them, but I well-qualified for three of them. As a female and with my work experience, I should be a prime candidate.
It may be too early to worry about, but I'm torn over whether or not to move. There is a position at my current school, one that I could easily learn what I don't already know, one where I already know everyone, am respected and like, but it is administrative. I'm not wild about having to evaluate co-workers and grad students. I'm not sure I can tactfully deal with parents, one of many reasons I will never teach high school again. Before I had Spawn, I was too sympathetic. Now, I have almost none. All of my patience and caring are spent by him, and I don't know if this would be a good thing or a bad thing for my job.
On the other hand, I don't enjoy research. I see it as necessary for my career, but I'm not passionate about it in the way I am about my actual career. This administrative position comes with no research, but the pay and workload are terrible. Having said that, there is a similar position at another school that has competitive pay and workload to that of someone in a regular professorship. But do I want to move? Do I want to leave my friends and family? Yes and no. Yes and no.
4) I spent the last three days proofreading Fluffy's dissertation. He finally sent off first drafts to his committee last night. Now, he just needs to set a date and time to defend and make a power point. Why is this more stressful for me than my own defense?
In the time I spent with Spawn and looking through pictures of the party, I noticed how interested in other children Spawn has become. He needs friends his age, but every time I think about putting him in daycare or a mother's day out, I think a) I don't have the money for that b) Spawn is so healthy and I know he will be sick all the time if he's in daycare c) Once I find a full-time job, he'll have to go to daycare, so I should just enjoy having him home and teaching him myself while I can.
I keep telling myself I just need to try to enjoy him while he's little, especially since he will probably be my only child. Taking care of him can be so exhausting. It's hard when you need a break or you just want to go out, see friends, or shop and you can't.
2) Friday, I received my signed contract for Fairest. It has been put on Eternal Press' publication schedule for May of this year. I've returned my author information sheet, so now, I'm just waiting to hear from the editor about suggested changes or corrections.
I'm amazed by this little book. I started it as a NaNoWriMo project in 2010 and gave up after 15,000 words. In 2011, I added a few more chapters before I gave up. I moved on to other projects for a while before I made up my mind to finish it. Unlike most of my other works, this one is stand-alone. Those other stories, even if I have finished entire books of them, are still unfinished. I had a chance to complete something with Fairest. In summer of 2012, I did. It was fulfilling to finally FINALLY finish something. It has a beginning, middle, and end.
I spent some time editing it and tried querying in September. When it received no interest, I sent it off to friends and had another go at editing it. Then, on a whim, I decided to look for publishers instead of agents. It's not easy to find YA publishers who take unsolicited works, but Eternal Press does and did! I was so used to rejection that I had to read the email twice before I realized they wanted my book!
3) I have applied for twelve jobs across the southeast. I am qualified for all of them, but I well-qualified for three of them. As a female and with my work experience, I should be a prime candidate.
It may be too early to worry about, but I'm torn over whether or not to move. There is a position at my current school, one that I could easily learn what I don't already know, one where I already know everyone, am respected and like, but it is administrative. I'm not wild about having to evaluate co-workers and grad students. I'm not sure I can tactfully deal with parents, one of many reasons I will never teach high school again. Before I had Spawn, I was too sympathetic. Now, I have almost none. All of my patience and caring are spent by him, and I don't know if this would be a good thing or a bad thing for my job.
On the other hand, I don't enjoy research. I see it as necessary for my career, but I'm not passionate about it in the way I am about my actual career. This administrative position comes with no research, but the pay and workload are terrible. Having said that, there is a similar position at another school that has competitive pay and workload to that of someone in a regular professorship. But do I want to move? Do I want to leave my friends and family? Yes and no. Yes and no.
4) I spent the last three days proofreading Fluffy's dissertation. He finally sent off first drafts to his committee last night. Now, he just needs to set a date and time to defend and make a power point. Why is this more stressful for me than my own defense?
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