August 2007.
I started writing a second book that year, after having already written one from May to August. I finished that second book in December of that year on New Years actually.
Yesterday, I started writing something new. Sentence by sentence, the story grows.
334 words this morning.
Rome wasn’t built in a day.
What is the season
that falls between summer and fall
where August changes cause
the kids went back to school
there’s no one to play games
on the fading green grass
empty pool water idly licks the tiled sides
where boys of summer once bathed in the sun
the sun is lonely now
the temperature drops
the harvest moon rises
katydids sing longer songs
and birds fluff their feathers to ward
off the sixty degree chill
but the trees
still have their leaves
and their leaves are green
the grass is not dead
just empty
the only pumpkins I see
are plastic and lining shop shelves
to remind us
that harvest
will be here soon
and County fair ribbons will be won
and kids go to football games for fun
and say trick-or-treat
with candy corn to eat
while witches fly and
apples bob in water
But it’s barely September
and I can’t remember
what season it is
when it’s too cool for summer
but too hot for fall
somewhere in the middle
caught up in it all
when the flowers stop growing
and lawn boys aren’t mowing
down the last of the dandelions
and grass
Mother nature
your slip is showing.
The reason
what is this season?
Purple candle flickers on a wall
separating two lovers
who face each other
but cannot see
through the internet screens
through the music in the air
through the walls that separate them
but each knows
what the other looks like
inside and out
without having to see
through the walls
where
the purple candle flickers.
This week I’ve been reading Wayne Courtois’s book, A Report from Winter which is where the title of this post comes from. It’s a story about a gay man who returns home to deal with the passing of his mother. The story itself is pretty good. More about the book later when I post a review of it this weekend.
The story got me to thinking about how sometimes our life gets interrupted when we have to deal with certain long term or short term situations that need our attention, and sometimes it’s hard to imagine getting back to the way things were. Eventually, the situation comes to an end or maybe the inevitable happens (that loved one in hospice passes on), and it’s all over. We feel somewhat lost. The “pause” button on everything else has been pushed again and we have to move on.
I feel that way right now in my life. Thankfully, I’m not having to deal with a sick loved one. My situation has more to do with my professional life. The “back to school” season is a busy time for me at work and starts right after Independence Day. This year, I’ve also had to face the task of training two brand new people in our department at the same time. I love to train (should have gone ahead and become a teacher), so I was up for the task.
But training two people definitely had its challenges. One started two weeks after the other, so I tried desperately to get them caught up with one another and on the same track. Unfortunately, I still had to spend individual time with each of them to train them on the phones because our systems won’t allow two people to listen in at the same time, so the one who started earlier was released from my attention and went live on her own before the other did. This week, my second trainee went live on her own. Add on top of the training, emails piling up, phones ringing off the wall, orders to be keyed, and all of the other things I’d normally be responsible for during our busy season. It’s literally been like two months of the retail Christmas season, but it’s still not over yet. Things don’t die down till the middle of September, so we still have about three weeks to go.
With my second trainee going live on her own this week, it felt like now I sort of got to go back to doing whatever I was doing before. But I don’t even remember what that was or where I was before the rush season started. So it’s been an odd week and odd transition for me as my trainees leave the nest. It’s like being at graduation and wondering what the heck you are supposed to do now that this is over.
It’s hard to imagine that in August 2007 I actually started writing a book and finished it in December. You may remember I wrote two books that year, but only one of those books has been published so far. Last year, I devoted my off time to the book review blog I had created last year, and to promoting my own book which was published in June. This year, after work I’ve come home in almost a comotose state from the busy day and not been able to do anything except play Farmtown on Facebook. Isn’t that sad? Farmtown was my six pack of beer, my bag of candy, my sad guilty pleasure to wash away the worries and stresses a busy day at work created. All this month I picked up books and tried to read them but nothing could hold my attention. I tried to write something, but the words just weren’t coming out. I was creatively constipated! You might even notice my little blog here didn’t even get much attention.
But here I am now writing this long post, the longest I’ve written in a while. And I’ve been reading this week and the book is keeping my attention. And the clouds are moving out of the way and suddenly I feel the need to be creative again. So, it’s nice to see one job done and the rush season dying down already although I find it impossible to believe it already almost September. Where did the last 2 months go? So, as my head clears and the creative juices start flowing, I’m excited to see what Autumn holds for me this time. But this week, as that happens, I’ve been lost. Someone or something has pushed my pause button and life is catching up again. My heart is racing. My blood is pumping. I’m being pulled in every direction I can think of. And I’m not sure, just yet. how to react. But through all that, I do feel like I can breathe again. I’m not holding in and waiting for the stress to subside. There’s a release, and I can feel it.
It feels good.
Stealing Wishes got another review posted on Amazon just 5 days ago, but I just now came across it….
Shannon Yarbrough’s “Stealing Wishes” is a romance with serious concerns beneath a light comic surface. The novel explores themes of artistic talent and accomplishment, ambition and personal identity within the context of a Midwestern man’s search for love.
The novel’s narrator, Blaine, is a barista at The Latte Da, a coffeehouse run by his best friend Sallie. As the novel opens, he and Sallie spend their days grinding beans, pining for romance and commiserating on their lousy romantic luck. But not for long! Each finds romance of a sort, and the interplay between them and their various romantic partners drives the novel’s plot. The vagaries of their romantic entanglements provide Blaine a context in which to consider personal, philosophical and aesthetic issues surrounding his love of photography, his co-worker’s paintings and the pretensions of the cafe’s art-college customers. The chapters are short, miming the narrator’s short attention span (Blaine is obsessive-compulsive), and the plot clips along at a lively pace. Though the novel seems at first to be a straightforward gay romantic comedy, Yarbrough’s characters and plot never succumb to the cliched or sentimental, and the ending is unexpectedly moving.
The novel does have some minor drawbacks: it’s difficult to know how to read the narrator’s obsessive-compulsive disorder, since it’s mostly played for laughs, never presented as a serious concern and affects the character somewhat capriciously through the course of the novel; and while the narration does an excellent job of reproducing Blaine’s jittery hyperactive mind, I sometimes wished there were more slower passages with longer scenes, so the characters could reveal themselves to the reader and to each other (the few extended scenes, particularly between Auden and Blaine, do this well). That said, these drawbacks are more than compensated by the narrator’s good humor, and the touching, amusing romantic set-pieces throughout the book.
“Stealing Wishes” is a smart, enjoyable novel whose memorable setting and quirky characters stay with you beyond the last page. It provides real insight into gay life in a Midwestern town with warmth, wry humor and a deft touch.
We watched Wathmen last night. What a disappointment! The best part was seeing Patrick Wilson’s naked butt and Mr. 
Manhattan’s blue wang. Be warned! There’s a lot of blue wang in this movie, more than in Papa Smurf Gets His Freak On!
Our second Netflix flick of the evening was Passengers, with Anne Hathaway and also Patrick Wilson. I had no idea he was in it too. No butt shots, but overall it was a great film. Very well written and very surprising. I can’t say much about it without ruining it for you, but take my word….it was great!
It’s true. I haven’t updated my blog in over a week. I’ve gone days without answering email. The plants need watering. The cat needs combing. I waited till the last minute this week to pay bills. I haven’t bought groceries yet. I haven’t even picked up a book to read for about three days. What’s wrong with me, you ask?
It’s not beer. It’s not shopping. It’s not even crack.
I have become addicted to Farm Town on Facebook.
I check it two or three times a day. After work at home, I’m harvesting and plowing for hours. I turn on my computer in the morning and the first thing I check is what gifts my friends and neighbors have sent me. I’m filling their requests for certain gifts. I’m asking for a rooster and flowers for myself. I’ve learned how to earn more money by harvesting others and hiring them to harvest for me. I’m saving coins to buy a house. I’m giving others tips on farming now.
Farm Town is like Oregon Trail for adults. Do you remember that game from grade school? It’s the most simple and silly game in the world, but it is so addictive. Be warned! Here are some quotes from my farming neighbors…
I am so addicted to the Farm Town too! I cannot quit working on it. Want it all, bigger house, more land and I want it all.
I spelled my name in crops this morning. This is more than addiction. It’s a sickness, really.
As another friend said, the first step is admitting you have a problem. Did that! Now back to farming…
