Widows Who Write

I thought it might be emotionally hard to re-read the journal entries I made over seven years of going to speech therapies with my husband in preparation for the book I want to write for National Novel Writers Month. But it’s not. I am able to look at the words and see what’s important, what isn’t and what needs rewriting. I suppose if I had tried this project in the first year after his passing I wouldn’t be able to separate my emotions from the story I want to tell, a story about living in the land of severe language disorders. We went through so much during those years and it’s hard not to take pride in all we accomplished. I say “we” because speech therapy for Don wasn’t something I just dropped him off for and picked him back up afterward. I had to take part in it all, so I could learn queuing, and coping techniques, and help with homework, etc.  At times, though, the book idea seems like an overwhelming task because I wrote so much during that time frame and it has to be ruthless edited down into a cohesive book. Oh, well, I have until the end of the month when the nationwide writing marathon ends for me to figure out. And in the meantime, it’s fun interacting with other wannabe writers on the site. We even got a pep talk email from author James Patterson of the Alex Cross series. I can’t wait to see who else they have lined up for pep talks.

In addition to writing this week: Levi got a haircut, I got a pedicure. My antique booth at the mall got restocked, my car got an oil change, I went to a life enrichment lecture at the senior hall about the river that runs through town and I went to a dinner theater with my Red Hat Society group. Some of my Michigan friends probably know about Turkeyville, near Marshall, which is where I attended the audience participation play, A Girl’s Guide to Murder and Mayhem. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that much and I couldn’t decide if I was glad or sad that they didn’t call me on stage to take part in a murder scene. I did ask a question during a portion of the show where the audience became the detectives who got to drill the suspect and that brought laughter from the crowd. That was fun---you know me, anything for a laugh. The dinner was---what else---a big turkey dinner like you visualize when you think of Thanksgiving. It will probably be the only one I’ll get this year with a real turkey and real potatoes. The only down side of the whole day was the seating was hard and uncomfortable and the ride down and back took a toll on my old bones. I came home with so many aches and pains that I can’t decide if a few hours of fun is really worth the trade-off of joint pains that kept me up last night. I don’t do well when I have to sit in one position too long.

I’m glad I didn’t sign up to go the ballet on Tuesday through the senior hall although I feel guilty for not. How often do you get a chance to buy $100 tickets for just $20? But I’m still overbook and will be for the next two weeks before I can slow down. Being a widow on a mission is too much like work! Oh, well, in December when I’m winter bound I’ll be back here complaining because I didn’t sign up for enough stuff at the Historical Society, Red Hat Society and the senior hall. I wonder, sometimes, if it’s even possible to find a balance when I feel the breath of old age breathing on my neck, telling me I need to keep moving if I’m ever going to accomplish whatever it is I’m on this earth to accomplish. I guess this is where I need to tell myself to quit over thinking it, and just learn to relax and enjoy each day as it comes. 

Speaking of accomplishments my second book, another self-published bit of fluff, is finally in print. You can preview the first 15 pages by following the link below. It’s a story about two canine brothers with a bond that transcends earth all the way to the Rainbow Bridge and back again. ©

  Book Link