I’m not technically there yet. Still 14 months to go. But I did it! I made the hard call to the boss Thursday.
The day job was really wearing me down, like to the point of fearing I might not make it to the finish line. The thought of commuting through another hard winter was wearing me down. Not being able to focus more on my passion was wearing me down.
So… I retired early!! I need to shout it out and celebrate! Going out before my pension kicks in is still retirement, right? Even if it is scarier?
Lot’s of changes in our lifestyle ahead, which means… It’s Time to Simplify!
I’m already going through my accumulated junk (aka, treasures). Here are a few precious things I’m memorializing before I toss them out.
Living in the same place for 25 years can make anyone a hoarder, right? (That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.) We’ve purged things every time we made a big move, but this is the longest stretch between bouts of purging. One of those moves included living in a travel trailer for half a year, which meant I really had to purge. Still, I managed to hold onto things from my childhood, high school, starting out in life…
Each decade in this home I became obsessed with a new hobby. My craft room is brimming with stuff from my mixed media art days, knitting and crochet days, scrapbooking days, journaling days, and cross stitching days. Did I really think I would use up all that stuff? I never gave a thought to what I would do if I had to clean it out. It’s oddly both exhilarating and deflating.
Getting rid of favorite books and LPs, hordes of yarn, and other precious stashes is really hard. The labor to sort through it all (without loosening precarious piles on top of my head or flooding my floor space) is hard.
After a summer of all that bittersweet labor, you might find me like this by next winter.
As In It Didn’t Even Make it Through the First Round of a Micro Fiction Competition
So, I’m just releasing my thoughts about this into words. Thanks for allowing me to indulging in this exercise with you.
At the very least, it has been a huge learning experience participating in the NYC Midnight writing challenges. The prompts and random genres are hard! But I was bit by the competition bug and have been compelled to torture myself in a few of these events where you only have a day or two to write according to prompts. I managed to score points for two stories in the flash fiction contest, but not enough to go to the third round. So, failing to even get an honorable mention in my latest endeavor put a big dent in my day yesterday.
Why am I whining? I’m not really. I have learned so much from these competitions, and the feedback from the judges is detailed and well thought out. I had the idea that I could share this with a few readers (if anyone is willing) to shine some light on what the judges say was lacking.
I was assigned Action/Adventure, Catching an Insect, and the word Clean to use in my story.
Now I admit, Action/Adventure is not my thing, though I had fun with it in my short story, A Leap Through the Elder Oak, which I wrote for my solstice writing group and hope to publish in some form one of these days. But I gave it a shot because I do love a challenge. I was pretty happy with the plot that popped into my head as I mulled over the prompts.
The main issue was that the story failed to have a direct action scene. Oops. I’m fairly certain Action/Adventure needs a direct action scene. I thought dodging between skyscrapers in a squirrel suit was pretty direct, but that’s just me. Kenji might have been a little too contemplative for an action story. At least the judges said it was a compelling story despite the lack of direct action, and Kenji was a compelling protagonist. I’ll take it!
Then they said I needed more backstory for the brothers. I get that. The judges were confused about the purpose of the story. Was one brother good, one bad? Both bad? But backstory in 250 words? Hmmm. And I think my main theme was pretty clear. It was about family, so it didn’t matter if either of them were good or bad. One brother was desperate to save the other, and he risked himself to do it. Again, 250 words… how do you give them both a backstory plus the story in 250 words? Sorry. I’m repeating myself.
They discussed the idea that the omen of the moth could be bad, or it could be good depending on the reader. I’m okay with that. It’s what I intended. This lovely moth in fact represents portents both good or bad depending on the culture. I wanted to leave that up to the reader, whoever you may be.
Finally, they said the paragraph where I use the required prompt word “clean” could have been shorter, less descriptive to allow room for more backstory. But how the heck would “clean” fit in without Kenji looking around his environment? That’s a stumper, but it’s probably why I need to work more on my micro fiction.
Well, here it is for better or worse. Feedback is always welcome, and feel free to share your micro fiction in the comments. Thanks for taking a read!
The Death’s Head Omen
Kenji suited up, knelt on one knee, propped his elbow on the other, then used his mini scope to confirm the coordinates. Target was locked.
Jumping from a high-rise balcony in the dark to land on the roof of a warehouse three miles away was crazy. The wingsuit flight could kill him any number of ways. An accurate parachute landing would be the first miracle. Doing it in the middle of a drug deal raised the stakes impossibly higher.
But he would arrive unseen, and it was his best option to save his brother. Kaiyo would do the same for him.
Still, prickling sweat mocked him. Made him doubt his abilities. Kenji needed an omen. As the thought entered his head, a shadow flitted across his vision. A death’s head hawkmoth. Up here so far, and all alone? Like Kenji in his desperation.
Swiveling, he scanned his surroundings one last time. It was beautiful amid the tops of the gleaming buildings. Muted, like the outer reaches of space. Pristine. The glass wall behind him was so clean he could see through to the east end of the hundred and first floor.
He captured the portentous insect between cupped palms, absorbed its fluttering life, then spread his hands. It flew free. He aimed his body and did the same. Familiar excitement took hold as the air currents gripped him and he hurtled twenty-five miles an hour between gleaming skyscrapers and flashing neon, zigzagging towards the only family he had left.
Okay… so it’s not as scary as it sounds… It’s just the way my new year is shaping up.
I’m talking about my expanding world of developing characters, and if I’m honest, it feels closer to being invaded by a litter of 99 Dalmatian puppies frolicking and vying for a standout place in my stories than impregnation by horrific alien parasite beasts.
If you’ve been following this thread of musings, you know I’m fond of expounding on how my burgeoning characters mysteriously began showing up only a few short years ago when I inexplicably began writing fiction, which led me to conclude they must have been seeded by aliens who conspire to use the human race to produce their entertainment.
I say keep it coming, Pod Seeders!
But what I’m really talking about here are all the short story submission opportunities that seem to be due almost on top of each other. Do they all get together and plan it this way? Every magazine or competition I’m interested in has a deadline in February, pretty much all at once. But that just means my little podlings are popping out right and left from the deep recesses of my mind. I’m good with that. I hope the stories never stop coming, the characters never stop developing, and I always have too much to write. That is my idea of a good life. And that is what I’m looking forward to in 2023.
I’ll let you know around April if I survive the first quarter.
Now, if I could just get to that point where I didn’t have to spend forty hours of every week working for someone besides my Pod People… oh, what I could do with that time…
But my amazing and dedicated spouse is outside rescuing our trees from dense snowfall so full of water we keep hearing the echoing cracks of tree branches all over the neighborhood as they give way.
He spent two hours shoveling snow off the roof this afternoon and keeps stomping around tonight muttering words of doom. But that’s not a whole lot different than every other new year since we have lived in a high desert valley at 5,000 feet below a 9,000 foot mountain peak. I just had to have the bright idea to marry my sweetheart at midnight on 1 – 1 – 91, not giving one thought to a future where we live in a place that makes celebrating wedded bliss in winter difficult. So, it wouldn’t be ringing in the New Year without listening to the beloved grumbling, then tucking the stressed out grumbler into bed by 8:30, so I can stay up and maybe catch my sister on Facetime at midnight.
I love you honey! Here’s to 32 amazing years. And retirement will be in a place where there is no snow to shovel… I promise.
P.S. I’m having a hard time writing this coherently because despite it all, he never misses an opportunity to crack open a bottle of champaign. So, when I say, “I wish I could say WE were kicked back drinking champaign,” it means ME. He’s shoveling more snow and worrying about our giant elm crashing down on us. I hear him coming back inside. Yep… that’s him now calling our tree service… sounds like they’re having a busy night.
I’m raising my glass to all! Here’s to a fabulous new year full of exciting times and ordinary moments we can cherish!
I often talk about the inspiring setting in which I live that plays a huge role in my stories. Yesterday offered particularly spectacular scenes, though my amateur photographs don’t do them justice, especially when shot through a window on a cold morning, or from my car on a cold afternoon.
The Sierra Nevada Mountains, Nevada USA
For perspective on geography, Lake Tahoe is just over the mountains.
This month’s guest spotlight will focus on the creative process and the mindful art of doodling (otherwise known as the Zentangle method), which was passed on to me by my friend and artist, Audrey Markowitz.
Audrey, a great teacher and unflagging motivator, will be joining me on Sunday, December 18. Stop by and find out how easy it is to put down a bit of ink on paper in a mindful way that helps get those creative juices flowing. In fact, Audrey will be talking about how she accomplished that in her everyday life.
I thought I’d gather and share a few of my past creations inspired by Audrey during so many amazing classes over the years. Zentangle is super easy to learn, perfect for creating a piece of art with few supplies, just a few lessons, and in a short time… all while being immensely satisfying and relaxing. There are no mistakes! If you can doodle, you can Zentangle. If your hand leads your pen in a direction you didn’t expect, all the better! Mostly, you can use it to unclutter the mind, and restart that imagination.
If you Zentangle or do other arts or crafts to relax and unclutter the brain, I’d love to hear about it in the comments. Happy creating!
Can’t have a complete art journal without adding a spread about my teacher.
For me, winter writing means cozied up with blankets, my dogs, coffee or tea, and my laptop. It’s blustery at my house, with snow all around, and it’s been bitter cold. But that all adds up to the perfect conditions for writing.
How about you? What is your favorite season for writing. If you love writing in every season, what is your favorite thing about each?
Writing contests… What compels me to set myself up repeatedly for an emotional one-two punch? That is my initial reaction anyway, after the rejection comes, or the silence when my beloved story is knocked senseless to the mat after all the arduous work.
Eventually, after much moaning… ahem… soul searching, reason returns, and I take away the valuable lessons and start my next story.
How about you? Do you submit to writing contests to hone your skills? Are you a writer who thrives in that environment or shuns it? Share your highlights, successes, and best lessons in the comments.
By D. L. Lewellyn 