Ahhh...It looks like life might be settling into enough of a routine to let me write a minimum of 2 hours a day...It's actually fairly quiet here at the moment (with only Friend Hubby bugging me about answers for his crossword puzzle), the windows open, the only noise from outside being from the wind chimes, birds, and an occasional vehicle passing by. (Darn! That UPS truck kept going! No goodies today!)

I rode my bike to the post office this morning (a 5 mile round trip), only to discover a large envelope from a publisher, sending back my query letter and first two chapters of my novel. That's always a little disheartening. But I have to have faith that it will eventually sell. After all, if a writer, painter, musician doesn't believe in herself/himself and their art, in their ability to get it right, why bother? You'd be better off getting a job as a CPA or tax attorney, something with a steady paycheck and a semi-rigid set of rules.

Over the weekend, Friend Hubby and I started a second bag of coffee from Boca Java; this one is called Late Night Log In. (I swear they have writers working for them!) The bag describes it as "a very bold, dark roasted blend...rich with flavor and...a smooth finish." They definitely have that right. It has a mellow, almost smokey taste to it...Definitely something I can handle while writing. (Hmmm...here I am on the west coast of Florida, windows open, letting the breeze in, while writing the Great American Novel, a mug of Late Night Log In, a plate of brownies or fruit, some jazz on the stereo...Yup, definitely the life...

I've come up with what may be a solution to get through the drought...at least temporarily. I've decided to try writing for a mere 2 hours a day. There have been days when I've written for 6, 8 hours and done well.

Those days may very well be long gone. And yet I strive to write. When I can't put in as many hours as I have in the past, it makes it difficult to write at all. But if I decide to write for only 2 hours a day, it suddenly becomes doable. I can fit in 2 hours.

So today, I gave it a try. Ran some errands I needed to run. Got home around 1:45, put stuff away, started some laundry, and then...ta da!...sat down at the computer. Got done with checking email, etc. by 3:00. Found a short story I'd started but never finished. I actually managed to get 4-5 pages added to it, as well as a better idea where the story is going. It felt good.

Tomorrow, I'll write that report on the environment for the city. Or at least start it.

Sure feels good to get back in the groove.

I feel like I'm going through a drought period. There's so much I want to change in this world, so many wrongs that need to be confronted and changed. I feel that the best way I can do this is through direct confrontation and my writing.

The direct confrontation, of course, is immediate. Here and now. I see the city council allowing wooded areas to be bull-dozed for someone's mega-profit when, in the long run, it'll wreck havoc on the environment. So I go to City Council meetings, discuss, confront, protest, organize. Of course, all this needs to be peaceful. Martin Luther King, Jr. had that right. Gandhi had that right. And yes, Jesus Christ had it right. You don't change things for the better by violence. True, you can change things through violence--temporarily. Governments may be overthrown, changed, businesses shut down (pro-"life"rs are notorious here), but sustained, long-term changes come only through peaceful means. Look at the Civil Rights movement. Would anyone have cared about Rosa Parks if she had violently opposed changing her seat on a Montgomery bus 50 years ago? Would American have listened, had Martin Luther King, Jr. (and those with him) been violent in their bus strike, marches and protests? They might have listened, but the movement would have been denounced and blocked. Instead, America watched as peaceful protesters and marchers were attacked by violent police in riot gear. America was outraged. And so, non-violent civil disobedience won out.

The other way to change things that are wrong is by writing the truth. There are pros and cons to this. The up-side is that you reach a larger audience. (Example: People read Rachel Carson's Silent Spring, Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird and Amy Goodman's Exception To The Rulers and are moved. A thinking person will find it difficult to read any of these books, along with hundreds, if not thousands, and not be changed by their reading.) The down side, of course, is that it takes time. First I must write. Then I must send off the writing (to a newspaper, to an agent, to a publisher, etc.). Then, hopefully, it will be picked up and printed in a timely manner. You're talking at best days (Letters to the Editors in your daily newspaper), possibly years.

I have a novel I'm attempting to get published. It deals with domestic violence, as well as women in non-traditional jobs (firefighter and, eventually, medicine, though there are more women entering medical school than in the past). I'd planned to give a percentage of the profits to a local domestic violence center (www.casa-stpete.org/). That would constitute activism in both realms--writing (novel) and financially helping a good cause. I've been trying for several years to get this published. But finances make it difficult. (Ink cartrages for my computer, decent paper, postage...the list goes on.)

Now, if only I could find a publisher and/or agent willing to take on my book.

Like most things, writing has its ups and downs, its yin and yang, as it were. Many times, these ups and downs are two sides of the same coin.

Example: Writing is a solitary job. True, there is the common visual of a newspaper reporter, hammering away on her/his keyboard in a room filled with smoke and other reporters, the shout of "Ten minutes 'til deadline!" bouncing off the walls. But for a freelance writer, it tends to be solitary, which lends to the mystery of it all. Most writers I know work out of their house. Sometimes there's no one else in the house during our writing time, and other times (like now, for me, anyway), everyone else is home and/or drifting in and out. Very distracting. And yet, I am the writer. When no one else is in the room, I still have to come up with the words. At these times, I sit and ponder; is the sky I'm describing pale milky blue, robin's egg blue, or, later in the day, cobalt, liquidly turning to purplish black? Is the green shirt my character is wearing a bright Kelly green, moss green, or chartreuse? Is he screaming at his wife, or simply yelling to be heard over the roar of the river? I can peacefully describe what I'm dreaming, while listening to background music, which can be anything I want to listen to, ranging from the Black-Eyed Peas or Mountain to Gershwin, Bach, etc. Soothing. Envigorating. But then, at the end of the day, I find the solitude just a little much. I have to talk to someone I don't see every day. I've got the phone bills to prove it.

Example: I make my own hours. Yup. Good side to that is that I can start at six a.m. if something hits me that needs to be put on paper and go as long as I have little or no distractions. Or I can write in the middle of the night. The down side, natch, is that, with no time card to punch, there are days where I tend to let things slide. I'll sit in front of the computer/word processer/paper and if the words don't materialize within seconds, decide, "You know, maybe I should fix a nice omelet."

Usually, though, I'm pretty good about my writing. Get through the solitude and/or noise, focus on writing...

And then, there's the perks.

First, there's the money when my writing sells. Haven't hit the big-time yet. I don't command the money that, say, Stephen King, Tom Clancey or Danielle Steele get. Yet.

Secondly, people have started asking, "How's the writing going?" This comes not only from other writers but from friends, relatives and acquaintences.

Then...and here's the yummy part...are folks who want me to sample stuff and write a little something about it. A lot of the stuff I pass on, thinking, "He/she put a lot of time into making/doing that; I can't hurt their feelings and let everyone know it's crap." Other stuff is so-so.

But I have discovered something I like a lot. Boca Java. I was first turned on to this coffee company through an email. Bought some of their coffee...OMG!!! Good stuff. Friend Hubby and I got a box today from them. "Would you review this?" I was asked with this box. "Why, of course," I thought. I checked the coffees they sent and picked one titled "Blogger's Beach Blast". The bag describes it as a "luscious flavored coffee...featuring a tantalizing combination of chocolate kiss and caramel."

"This is what we're starting with," I told Friend Hubby.

The pot was still in the filling stage when one of my sons (not a coffee drinker) came home. "What smells so good?" he asked. We told him.

How does it taste? We don't need to put any sugar in it. (We both tend to use sugar if the coffee is a little too strong/bitter/whatever.) But the Blogger's Beach Blast is fantastic: it's smooth taste has a touch of sweetness (with a hint of caramel) and a chocolatey richness without being overwhelming. Just enough to leave me thinking, "Ahhh...good stuff!" I do believe I could even try this blend without milk, it's that smooth. No bitterness...

Would I recommend B.B.B.? Heck, come December, there's a good chance everyone on my holiday gift list will get some. It's that good!!!

And it's helping me get over a 3-day writing block. And to think this stuff is legal!

I recently emailed another local writer. A. and I have been emailing back and forth since she quit her job last year. Sometimes we include a piece of writing, but usually just a short "hey, how ya doing?"

Recently, I sent A. something I'd started writing and she emailed back that she liked the energy of the first draft; was I still working on it? When I emailed her to let her know I was trying to, I was down in the dumps after an impossible week. Apparently, it showed, as her next email (as yet unresponded to) consisted of one line asking how I was doing; I sounded a little off.

That's one of the rough things about writing. It's you and the computer/typewriter/pen and paper. It can be very lonely. True, I have other people living here with me, but that doesn't always help; in fact, it can sometimes be a hinderance.

"It was a dark and stormy night when..." I'll start when suddenly I'll hear, "Honey, where's the coffee filters? I was going to fix another pot and..."

"On the shelf."

"I don't see it."

So I'm up and getting the package of filters, which is right where I said they were. "Here they are."

"Since you're already up, could you maybe fix the coffee?" So I start another pot before heading back to the computer and the writing. "It was a dark and stormy night when..." What was I gonna say? Oh yes, "...when out of nowhere..."

"Honey, I think the dog wants out."

"So how 'bout letting her out?" I think, rather testily. He's between me and the back door where the dog is heading. But nooooo... So I'm up and wouldn't you know, the dog has already messed on the floor. Guess who cleans it up? After washing my hands, I head out of the kitchen.

"Ah, coffee?"

Coffee fixed, I stalk back to the computer. And so it goes...

And yet, I think how A.'s life is. She lives by herself with only her cat to keep her company. I'm sure that has its own set of problems.

And yet, we both struggle to keep writing, trying to make a difference.

What a week. I managed to write, but, unfortunately, not to the extent that I would like (or that I usually manage). Doctors' appointments, etc. managed to get in the way. While I did do some writing while waiting in a doctor's office for Friend Hubby to come out, and did get some good writing time in at home, it was not nearly enough.

The good thing, though, is that the city where I live didn't have anything on their agenda this past week that would warrant my immediate imput. However, I have numerous books out from the library and am in the midst of writing a report on the environment that I plan to pass out among the City Council, pointing out how wrong it is to allow the destruction of the environment. I also plan in my report to show where the city might be able to build with the least amount of damage to: 1) the environment, 2) existing homes/neighborhoods, and 3) where it could be most cost effective for the city while keeping the environment safe. Big task? Yes. Doable? I believe so.

One nice thing...I've recently discovered a new brand of coffee. Still using the brand I've been using for years...But I was turned on to a new coffee while trying to earn enough points through a web site for a $10 gift card to a nearby restaurant. They were offering a bunch of points to try this brand of coffee through the mail (okay, it's Boca Java brand), so I bought 4 half-pound packages. Didn't realize it would be this good! We're on the fourth half-pound and plan to get some more in the near future. The flavor we're on now is called Hightide Hazlenut...Yummy beyond words. Even Friend Hubby, who isn't big on flavored coffees (as he likes to tell me when we go to coffee houses, "I like just plain coffee!") loves this flavor. OMG. It's that good.

Well, now to get back to my writing...and activism...

Ahhh...a sense of accomplishment. I just got done planting a bunch of seeds for my veggie garden. Might not sound like much, but all things considered...

First off, I used some planters that my next-door neighbor was throwing out last year. He'd cleaned his garage in honor of his brand-new car. The old car hadn't warranted garage space, so it had gathered a ton os stuff. There was also a bunch of potting soil that I'd bought last year and that, due to now-dead tomato, corn, and long-forgotten other veggies, I had recycled into an old bin.

Now for the fun part...I now have a 56 pots filled with soil and veggie sees: tomatoes (yup, I'll give 'em a try again), peas (I didn't realize one package of peas could go that far) and four--count 'em, four--different kinds of squash. And still with seeds left over.

I figure the pots save the aggrevation of digging up the back yard. Good reason for doing it this way: No digging. No planting in very sandy soil. No dealing with the underground power/phone/cable lines zig-zagging through the yard. And no worrying about whether or not the landlord will renew our lease. (Quite probable, since we've been here for years.) However, there is the slight possibility that they might take umbrage at me trying to take on City Hall about the woods-vs-building problem. (See yesterday's post.)

But in the meantime, I feel like I've accomplished something. Even if the veggies don't make it (a la last year), at least I'm trying to grow them. And finding it very relaxing...

I am upset. Angry. Righteously furious. Out-right pissed. Why? Short-sighted politicians and city planners.

Several blocks from my house, there was a beautiful section of woods. At one corner of the woods was a house, metal-link fence around the yard, with a sign that reads: "Wild-Life Habitat" and a number, showing that it is a state-certified wild-life habitat. I'd thought that the lady who owns the property inside the fence also owned the woods outside the fence, too. Turns out she didn't.

I discovered this several weeks ago when the bulldozers showed up and started knocking over trees, raping the land. True, I'd seen several trees with tape around them, indicating "Do Not Touch". But I'd figured that maybe some of the underbrush was being cleared. Not much, mind you, just cleared a little to allow new, healthy growth through. Silly me.

Several days into the plowing, etc., I saw a man whose back yard abutted the alley across from the horror. "What is this?" I asked him. "Broderick is putting up condos," he tells me. "Bought the land from the city. They even gave him the retention pond over there," he points. They'd be walling off the alley, destroying woods for profit. According to the man, everyone whose house backs against the alley had recieved a notice telling them about this and that if they objected, to show up for a city council meeting. They'd showed up, alright, for what good it did. The plans had already been drawn up, approved, the whole works. The citizens were told that if they could pull together enough money to buy the land, the developer would back off.

Such short-sightedness is crazy. I remember reading a quote from a Native American Chief that said something along the line of "When the last tree is cut down and the last bird is killed and the last lake and ocean are gone, we will realize we can't eat money."

So now, I've picked up books. Enviornmental books. Rachel Carson's Silent Spring tops the stack. I intend to write a report, confront City Hall at one of their meetings. It might not bring back this particular stand of woods, but it might save others.

Be forewarned: An intelligent, really pissed feminist-activist is one to be reckoned with.

Since I started writing full-time (or semi-full-time), I've become more aware of different types of books and shorter pieces...Some are purely informational, some completely fictional with no teaching, per se, while other writers use fiction to tell a greater truth.

Examples of each would be:
Informational: Dictionaries and encyclopedias (obviously); text books; non-fiction (such as Amy Goodman's Exception to the Rulers or Rachel Carson's Silent Spring).
Pure fiction: This genre is purely for entertainment purposes. This would include (but is not limited to): romance novels, westerns, mysteries, fantasy, most of what passes as "mass fiction". This is not to say that there is something wrong with it. No. In this stress-filled, fast-paced, cut-throat, hectic thing we call "life", we need something to help us kick back and relax without the possibility of a hang-over or harming our bodies. Much of it, while not giving us a message, can transform us to another time or place that we might not otherwise experience. The trick here, though, is to be discerning: while some books may be the equivalent of, say, a substantial meal, others are the equivalent of a bowl of candy or ice cream--fine, in moderation
Fiction with a message: This could be any piece that, while fiction, shows how a life can be changed for good or bad. It also brings forth a subject that, if done in text-book fashion, would bore the reader and/or not make the impact that a story with believable characters can. Good examples are Alice Hoffman's At Risk (dealing with AIDS) and Anna Quinlen's Black And Blue (domestic violence) and One True Thing (end of life care/cancer). All three of these also deal with family dynamics, making us care about the characters and their struggle with AIDS, domestic violence, and end-of-life decisions. The reader is shown something that might frighten or bore us, if done the wrong way. But many of us may be moved to do something to help, while not these characters who are fictional, but others caught in similar situations.

My biggest obstacle is to not get depressed when my writing is not published immediately. (I'm still trying to sell my first novel, which deals with domestic violence.) Publication will happen...In the meantime, I need to keep writing to change what I see is wrong for the good of those around me.

If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that if you want change, you have to instigate it. We all see and experience things that we feel need changing: an injustice to humanity, a wrong done to the world. It can be as small and insignificant as a porch not swept or a perceived slight by a neighbor or as immense as an entire forest being bulldozed for luxury penthouse or being told that you have no rights in the eyes of the prevailing heirarchy because of one's race, ethnicity, gender, or any of a million reasons.
What to do...What do most of us do? Unfortunately, most of us, at one time or another (some for their entire lives) find it easier to complain to friends, family, those around them. "It's just so unfair!" they'll say. "Just because I'm male/female/gay/black/white/Asian/mid-Eastern/disabled/et cetera, they won't let me apply for the job." Other problems could be the closing of a local library, the laying off of teachers (and the "dumbing down" of classes), destruction of woodlands, as well as a host of other wrongs. But what do we do? Complain among ourselves.
Here is where writers must act to help promote change. Write letters to the editor. Write articles for the newspaper. Write books. Insight people to want change.
How does this help? you might wonder. Ever hear of Rachel Carson? She was a scientist and writer who did a little number titled Silent Spring. It was what started the chain of events that got DDT pulled from the agricultural scene. Anne Frank's Diary and Elie Wiesel's Night helped bring the horrors of the Holocost to the forefront. Ever hear of Alexander Sclzenitzen? Had the Soviet Union's leaders scared enough to send him to Siberia for daring to tell the truth about the way the government treated their dissidents.
The list goes on. But writers are only the beginning. If a decent writer can convince even one person to use intelligence, non-violence, and reasoning to speak up, think what good could happen.