What? I have a blog?

Oh, hi there.

Greetings from my dining room table, strewn with books, Letters in the Mail, drafts of short stories, and who knows what else. This is where I sit every morning and evening. To write.

On paper.
Or in a doc.

And to check the face book and to catch up on email and to follow the book world via Twitter, and sometimes to submit to lit mags.

And I frequently have a cat in my lap.

xoxo

Why I blog (or don't)... and an Honorable Mention

I'll never be a star blogger. I'm not trying to create a platform. I'm not out to drum up as many "followers" as possible. I admire those people who can blog every day (or just regularly) out of the overflow of their hearts. But I don't want to try to be like them because I'm afraid I'll end up blogging out of duty rather than for art. In the past, I've blogged when I really didn't have anything to say. Or I've not blogged because I felt I didn't have any interesting thoughts.

Sometimes I have too much going on in my head to blog. I'm a fictionist. Up to a point, when I'm working on a new project, if I write anything else, or even talk about what I'm working on, I'll lose the spark. The new stuff starts to feel flat and old. Maybe this is especially true for fiction writers, I don't know. I just know that I can't plan or talk or write about anything else until I reach a point of being at home in the new work.

The writing needs to come out of a heads-down, eyes-&-heart-open kind of focus, kind of paying attention throughout the day to every serendipitous moment. Choosing not to get distracted. 

Well, I'll get distracted this once...

Last night I got an email from the editors at Glimmer Train that my story "The Rust Red Feather" made it into the top 5% of stories in their February short story contest for new writers. http://bit.ly/12FebSSAhonorablementions

Though this doesn't mean I'm published, this kind of recognition from a journal like Glimmer Train bolsters my legitimacy when I submit this story and others elsewhere (not to mention my confidence as I continue to write!). 

I wrote "The Rust Red Feather" from a place of such surrendered focus, and I'm extremely grateful for the response it's gotten so far. This is just another reminder to keep my priorities in order. To keep my eyes and heart open and choose not to get distracted. To me, the rewards of such discipline, even if I remain in relative obscurity, far outweigh garnering a huge blog following! But thank you to those of you who do read my blog, for sharing this moment of celebration with me. I love you all!

P.S. Here's to the top 25 & the three winners of the contest! I'm doubly intrigued by a short story that made the top 25 called "Diatomaceous Earth" by a writer named (coincidentally) Sara Schaff. I'll be watching for it to be published!

Indecisive

This A-to-Z April blogging challenge is getting hard!

True to my nature, I wait until 11:40pm to decide what to write for the letter I, which is supposed to be published before midnight. Not that I haven't been thinking about it all day... Seriously-- Imagination. Inspiration. Inquisitiveness. Introductions. Introversion. All in the running.

Earlier tonight, Andrew and I searched our Netflix instant queue to find something to watch. He knew he wanted a light kind of movie, of which we don't have very many. So we quickly narrowed the list to either Toy Story 3 or Blazing Saddles. Then Andrew said my two least favorite words:

"You pick."

Nooooooooo! When I don't really care, and someone else is involved in the results of my decision, it's torture for me to pick between two fine options. After several iterations of "I don't care," "Either one is fine with me," and Andrew continuing to insist that I "just pick one," I soon realized I was rocking back and forth clutching my knees to my chest. "Look what you've done to me!" I said. And finally, "Fine! Toy Story 3." Meanwhile Andrew found me thoroughly amusing.

How convenient that "Indecisive" begins with today's letter. And after tossing around ideas all day, I finally realize the root of my problem and decide to go ahead and write about indecision.

Andrew asked me what I would have done if I was by myself, wanted to watch a movie, but didn't have a particular one in mind. I said it's different if no one else is affected by my decision. But when there are other people, I like to make sure everyone is happy.

In fact, I realize now, the question is irrelevant (another "I" word!), because I probably wouldn't even think to watch a movie unless I had a particular one in mind. I told him if it were just me tonight, I'd probably re-watch Anchorman. But then again, I might read or play the piano, or work on my translation, or play with the cats. I don't plan these kinds of things.

Hmmm. Maybe I'm never indecisive in my own free time because I just go with the flow--whatever I feel like doing, I do. Then again, I don't know. Maybe some other reason. You pick.

Random, Weird Things I Do Instead of Write

It's high time I finally posted a note here.

I was busy wrestling with a couple projects for school. A friend from my MFA program wrote a great post about the process of writing. How writing is what we want to do, but we are tempted to find anything and everything else to do but write. Don't be ashamed, Lindsey. I feel the same weakness, the same self-doubt. "Why am I doing this if I am so easily tempted to avoid it?" I don't have the answer, but I am comforted that I am not alone. I've heard many good writers admit to this.

I still have one author interview to complete before officially "finishing" the second semester of my MFA. But last Thursday, after fighting procrastination/distraction demons for weeks leading up to the deadline, I felt a lightness of spirit when I handed the manila envelope containing my story and annotations across the post office counter to a nice lady named Heather. I had proudly defeated many (but not all) potential distractions over the last few weeks (including the blog god reminding me condescendingly that I still had not posted after several weeks MIA). So on Friday morning, I let myself indulge in a few choice distractions in celebration of being "done."

Here are three random and possibly gross things I did that morning instead of writing my interview questions:

1. Dumped the contents of my purse and discovered a week-old rotting apple core partially wrapped in a napkin. I ate the apple at work and wanted to compost it, OK?
2. Watched and cried at a weather channel video about a girl rescuing a starving horse from the side of the road (near my hometown, no less!). 
3. Cleaned out my belly button.

Yes, it's true. These are the kinds of things I find to do instead of write.

And now the blog god can stop looming for a few days while I get my questions written.