Sunday, July 5, 2015

Memory Lane

So, it feels really strange to be back writing here on the blog. A funny thing happened at the office the other day... and it all led me back here. I didn't expect it, didn't plan for it, and I'm quite frankly, a little overwhelmed by the idea that I'm actually typing out a post right now.

It all began with a team meeting. My team is made up of a bunch of introverts. Getting them to speak about themselves is ridiculously difficult. My boss came up with the idea of doing an icebreaker each meeting, in the hopes that they'll open up a little. Did I mention they're all men? Introverts and male. Now that's a recipe for a silent meeting if I ever heard one. Well, not silent -- my boss and I can fill the void, quite nicely actually.

This last week, the icebreaker topic: Funniest family vacation memory.

For once, I struggled to come up with something to talk about. Then I remembered this wild rafting trip I took where a Texan nearly killed us all. I tried relating this story from memory, and for whatever reason I just wasn't doing it any justice. I got a few tepid reactions, but no one really seemed to find it all that amusing. I finally said, 'Ack! I told it better on my blog." That led me to emailing them the body of said blog post. Nervously, I waited to see if anyone would comment. It was seriously like being back in crit mode--awaiting anxiously to see whether anyone would find it funny -- give it the ole' thumbs up -- snicker at me as I passed by them in the hall. I got nothing that day -- thankfully it all slipped my mind shortly after sending it out or I might have neurotically worried about this lack of reaction for the rest of the day/evening.

The next morning, I received an IM from one of the guys, stating he didn't know I was a published author. That, he said, it made sense, because after reading my story he thought to himself that I should be a writer. Something apparently led him to googling me or something because he stumbled across BTPM on Amazon. He said I really needed to stick with it because I was good--or something to that affect.


I haven't written anything in a very long time. Longer than I care to admit. I know it sounds stupid, but it was seriously like a having a bucket of ice water thrown in my face.

What the heck am I doing that I've allowed writing to just sort of slide off of my list of priorities? Something I love--that I once could never imagine my life without?

I won't lie and say that it hasn't been on my mind. I have a co-worker who harasses me about WIS whenever I see her. I've been like a parrot whenever she asks: "It's coming." "I'm working on it." Well, no, I haven't been working on it. I used to have small bursts of writing here and there, but it's been a long time since I've even had a minor one. I have the best of intentions, of course, but it's always a "soon" or "someday" I'll work on my book thing with me -- never a TO-day thing. I guess I keep waiting for this flash in the sky to signal it as THE day. Well, it hasn't happened. Pretty sure it won't.

So, I came back to my blog and started poking around -- both here and over at ATWOP. Admittedly, I spent the entire day reading through my posts, thinking the entire time, "Who is this girl and where did she go?"

This isn't meant to be a sad post. It is what it is. :) Life happens and there's no real point in mourning or getting angry. It simply is.

Honestly, I read RT from end to beginning (Yes, backwards) -- the entire thing. Well, at least the published posts. I didn't have the energy to go through and read all of the stuff I hid for one reason or another. That's a whole lotta posts. I'm pretty tired and not a little cross-eyed at this point. WOW. It's humbling to see so many years of my life laid out in this fashion. There are so many things going through my mind about:

1. How whiny I was about school/work

2. How I was obviously very sick for a good portion of my time on this blog

3. How I definitely was NOT ready to be published when FI caught agent attention

4. How I love me some disclaimers. OMG. Every book review started with a brief synopsis, which I promptly followed up with a..."Oh dear, I'm so awful at these things" lol I don't know what the heck that was. False modesty or just a simple cry of "Please don't judge me!"

5. How the HECK did I have the energy to do half the things I did? I was writing like a crazy woman, blogging, critiquing, actively participating in writer's exercises, beta-reading, doing book reviews, reading like books might disappear from the planet the next day... AND going to law school. Seriously, y'all. I'm exhausted reading about it all and I LIVED it.

6. Half the stuff I blogged about was progress on this or that WIP, without any real specifics. How did that not drive everyone completely bonkers? Well, to be fair, it might have. But thankfully no one ever said so to my face. :) But man, the number of "breakthroughs" and "epiphanies" boggles the mind. A good majority of them turned out to be total crap in the end, but I suspect you already knew that.

7. That girl had chutzpah. A certain lack of guile. Kind of like a small child playing dress up in her mother's clothes. Oh, she wanted to be able to walk in her big girl heels, and often times she pulled it off. At other times, the performance came off as condescending and asshole-ish. Sometimes she was just an asshole. Hey, I had firm beliefs at time and I wasn't afraid to say them "aloud." Yes, I cringed reading some of my posts. Others I laughed. Some I shook my proverbial fists in the air and loudly proclaimed, "Preach on, Sister!"

I was riveted by what I read. That was me, yo! Parts of it are still me. I'm just a bit out of practice. :) Am I coming back to the blog? Hell, I don't know. Maybe yes, maybe no. But it was nice to at least pay a little visit. As for the rest...we'll see.