I'm Just Me...

It's definitely Fall outside. Autumn has finally come, and I'm fricking freezing! Ever since I moved into my new home last May, I've been enjoying my writing time on the deck. It's been nice having been able to say, "I've done most of my writing throughout the Summer months, outside, on the deck, while listening to the sounds of nature!" Everyday, I'd finish my chores, and then head outside to assume my chair on the wooden floor of my 'outside' office. It's been a joy to me, listening to the birdsong, and the children laughing while at play, and watching the animals scurry busily about their day, the breeze blowing across my sun-kissed warm skin, and a glass of homemade Iced Tea, or Lemonade sitting on the glass table by my side. Like I said, "nice!" I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I get my best ideas for writing while outside! But lately, the days have turned colder, and I've tried to stay outside, endur...

Okay, so here it comes.. Ready? Are you sure? "If you're sure," I say in my sing-song voice...  "Just remember, you asked me! Don't blame me if you don't like what you hear!" I.. have.. a.. 'sick folder'! "What'sat?" I hear you ask. I say again, "I have a sick folder!"  "What'sat mean?" You ask me. It means.. I have a 'sick folder' buried deep inside of me, and the only time it comes creeping out, showing its sickening little smile, and sickening little thoughts, is when I'm writing!!! "Ewww!" I hear you saying. "Agree. Totally. And please don't shoot the messenger!" Here's what I mean, what I want you to know... A few days ago, I finished the ending to Chapter 6 of my debut novel!  "Yay!" I hear you cheer. "Agree!"  Well, I think I tweeted about writing the end of Chapter 6, and I know I sent a text to a close writer friend ...

Dang! It's been a busy week! I've barely had time to put six sentences together, let alone write six paragraphs, or six pages, or six chapters of anything! Yes, yes, that's an overstatement. I wrote a little. But not nearly enough to satisfy me. And I'm upset with myself for not finding more time. But, this was a difficult week with the loss of a dear family member, and every day tasks that I've let pile up on my shoulders, because, last week I made the time to write and ignored some other things, and what not. I'm certain, you will agree with me when I say, life is just, busy. And everyone is dealing with nearly the same issues. Work demands, household demands, time to spend with family, and friends, and taking care of little furry ones, running errands, paying bills, correspondence, and taking a few minutes for personal grooming... Lol. You get my point, yes? But, what time does that leave for writing?  Well to be honest, it got me to thinking!  "Uh-o...

Farted around with my weekend for a cause!     Today, yesterday, and the day before, I’ve been filled with some serious self doubts! Am I a good enough writer? Do I have the chops to write? What the hell am I doing thinking I can actually write a full-length novel, when I can’t seem to get 3 damned paragraphs written correctly? What the hell’s wrong with me?     A small, tiny bit of criticism, and off I go running with my tail between my legs, and fill myself, my writing life, with self doubt. Hell, I knew something was wrong with the text, and I asked one soul to review a few paragraphs, and my world went plummeting. I plummeted. I began to question everything I’ve ever written, everything I thought I could do. I began to doubt... myself! So I took the weekend off from writing to lick my wounds, wallow in self-pity, and generally had a miserable time with myself. And just for the record, that person didn’t intentionally make me feel bad about what they...

And so, today has not been such a fantastic day for me! I woke with the realization, that to some people, I'm just not that worthy! Which is fine, but which also prompted me to pen a Poem: SILENCE     Your silence slices my heart, like a razor blade slashes the flesh, and I bleed as though I were cut and shown bare for all to see, and you laugh at my foolishness.     Unimportant to your needs, used, and discarded. Self aggrandizement, your importance. Your quest.     So darkly do I think of you now, hideous in your arrogance. You force me to feel what I dare not admit, your vulgar sanctuary, empty.     Your silence, the quiet, speaks to my innermost thoughts where you dwelt within me, the beast of rejection, agony, and injured pride, defeat.     You cast your eye about, but I? Not within your frame. How could you ignore what I so boldly laid out for you to eat?     Even the least infatuated would...

So, as you can see, I haven't blogged in a good and long while, and I'm going to rectify that now! The other day, I posted a message to a new friend I had made through Twitter, and, in the message, I had shared with him that I've been seriously putting pen to paper for the past four years. True? Yes. But it occurred to me that, that particular statement is not the case exactly . In thinking about my comment to him, and in reading the older blogs that I've written, I came to realize that I've been writing for my entire life! Really? You ask. My answer, "Um, yah." If you've read my older blogs, (and I hope that you have. You can read my older posts here: http://pattyannmccarthy.blogspot.com/ ) then you know a little something about me already, and what I've survived as a child. And if you haven't, by all means, feel free to do so! If you have read them, I'm certain the older posts may make me seem a bit...