Tag: writing

Writing

Learning Endurance–Running in Long Beach

I just got back from a run with Heron and Hendrix, my dog.  We ran along the bluffs in Long Beach–the port stretched out like an ancient Egypt and the electrified Queen Mary–and Hendrix must have pissed on every freaking shrub that he saw.  He must have wanted to smell every freaking flower.  And he must have wanted to sniff every freaking dog that ran within a mile of him.  I, clearly, was a bit frustrated.  I wanted to keep running without interruption.  I wanted to find my groove.  I wanted to lose myself in the run, wandering into an eclipse.

Well, I know that running metaphors are pretty clichéd and trite, but this is exactly what I’m going through right now.  I’m learning endurance.  I’m learning how to get through the pauses and stops.  I’m learning how to get through the failures.  And I’m learning, most importantly, that this journey is going to take longer than I could have ever expected.  It’s going to require more work than I could have ever thought.  And it’s going to require more strength and patience than I could have ever fathomed.

It’s been a little bit over a month since I’ve started this blog.  I’ve written almost everyday, except for some weekends.  I’ve been working seven days a week, too, while some days on the weekend are, truly, half days.  And every morning before nine, I’ve been working on my memoir.  I’ve made some mistakes; I’ve half-assed some blogs; I could have written better pieces; and I could have spent more hours pitching.  There’s always something I could have done better.

But this is a part of the journey.  Making mistakes.  My grandfather used to tell me, “Every man makes mistakes, but it takes a man to learn from his mistakes.”  That’s always resonated with me.  My grandfather was a hard-working man.  Just like my father.  They both knew what work is.  They knew/know commitment.  They worked hard to give me a better life.  And they struggled, too.  It’s clear, from their example, in order to grow, then, it’s almost necessary to fail, to breakdown, and begin again.

And, you know, that’s cool.  I can handle it.  But I have to be in this for the long haul.  I can’t let this just be some fleeting thought.  I have to make it work.

Creative Inspiration, Personal Stories, Writing

The Beginning of a Journey

So, last week, I left my job.  I was working at a rehab center for drug and alcohol addicts and teaching creative writing.  Wow, how do I even begin to tell you about that amazing experience?  The kids changed my life.  So did the stories I heard from people in recovery.  (More on this as the blog develops.)

But there is something else out there for me.  I wanted, and have always wanted, to be a writer.  Below is a picture of my new writing desk.  A friend was clearing out her apartment, and she gave me the desk for $10.  The old desk was a tiny IKEA mess.

All along the walls of my room are post-it notes with ideas for stories.  Some of them will be unsuccessful; others, I believe, will be published stories, poems, and other projects.  And it’s only the beginning.  So let me tell you a bit about what I learned over the last year that has prepared for this journey.

When I was working at the rehab center, I was commuting from Long Beach to Woodland Hills.  Now, if you know nothing about  Southern California, let me put this into context.  Five days a week, I drove 44 miles in the worst traffic in the country, which sometimes would take me two hours one way.  That’s like driving from the East Coast of Florida to Tampa.  Basically, I found myself staring into brake-light machinery that devoured my spirit.  And while I was stuck in that traffic, I was checking my phone to see if I received an e-mail — oh that glorious electronic ticket — that my novel was finally accepted for representation by a literary agent. Continue reading “The Beginning of a Journey” →