Why?

Why? Remember as a kid, you would ask your parents why they did something and they would try to explain? Finally, they would get sick and tired of all the questions and say, “Because, kid. There is no why, it just is.”

That’s how it is with my writing. I don’t know why I do it- it just is.

People often seem surprised when I tell them that I write stories. They ask me if I hope to make money by writing books so that I don’t have to be an optometrist anymore. Then they say they would be happy for me, but are going to be bummed out if they have to find a new eye doctor.

I assure them. It’s not going to happen.

Sure, making money from selling books would be great- but that is not why I do it. In fact, sometimes putting it out into the Universe for everyone to read for a price is a bit tortuous. Bearing your soul for .99 cents isn’t for the weak. Even more daring is baring your soul for a limited time free promotion and getting a bad review. It’s the freebies that give the most scalding reviews, by the way.

I write my stories because they make me happy. I have a method. Each year I start thinking about my story when Spring arrives. Time for a new beginning. I think about my story as I go on long walks and watch the trees and flowers bloom and grow.

When November 1st rolls around, I am ready. It just happens to coincide with NaNoWriMo (November is National Novel Writing Month) and I start putting words down on paper and/or screen. It starts. I work on my book for the next few months, finding time between work and the Holidays. I am not a Holidays person, so writing the book helps me get through that difficult time. I am happily sitting at my desk writing while others are dressing up to go and socialize. Two things that aren’t my cup of tea.

And then the day comes. Today is the day this year. I publish my story on Amazon as a Kindle book. I do it because friends and families are excited for me and want to read my story. I do it because it’s easy. I could try to find a publisher or self-publish a real book. But, I am not going to do that. I think it would turn my passion for stories into a job- and I already have one of those.

I will let this story live with me for a few more weeks. If all goes according to plan, Spring will start to show up in little bits and pieces and I will find a new story to tell. It’s early yet, but I can feel that a seed has been sown. It will be fun to see what grows.

GGJ


My stories.

One Chapter

When Grandma Rose invited me over for dinner, I readily accepted. Cooking on The Gypsy was limited and I was getting tired of sandwiches. When I walked in the door I was greeted by the smell of freshly baked bread. “Yum! Something smells good!” I said as I gave Grandma Rose a hug. “I made your favorites, Jac. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and roasted carrots. The bread is for you to take home- I am hearing that you are making a lot of sandwiches.” We laughed. I guess maybe I had complained about my sandwich making to Grandpa Joe.

Grandma Rose shooed me into the living room. “Why don’t you practice a bit. Joe and Billy aren’t here yet- they ran into town to get Billy some warmer clothes. He didn’t realize it still gets chilly at night here in Wisconsin. He’s used to California weather.” She laughed. “We’ll get him straightened out yet.” She went back into the kitchen as I went to the piano and opened the keyboard. I ran my fingers lightly over the keys. I hadn’t played for awhile. I sat down and started with some simple warm ups and then started to play some of my favorites. I was singing softly to myself as I played. It felt good.

I was concentrating on my music and working on some pieces I hadn’t played for at least a year. I was stumbling through a few stanzas of Midnight Blue. Melissa Manchester does a good version. Her version uses an electric piano. My version on a regular piano makes it seem like a different song. I used to play this song as part of my set when I used to sing in Madison. It’s a good couples song, good for late at night.

All of a sudden, I realized that someone was singing harmony. I looked up to find Billy Richards standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He was wearing a brand new blue Sampson’s sweatshirt. They must have stopped by to see Amy. “Hi. Nice sweatshirt. ” I said as I stopped playing. “Hi. Thanks. I got three in different colors. I’ve been freezing my ass off. ” He said back. “Don’t stop playing. You almost have it. Scoot over.” He came and sat next to me and pointed out a few things on the sheet music. “I think this is where you are getting hung up.” He showed me how he would play it. I practiced a few times and finally got it. We played and sang the entire song. It wasn’t half bad.

Grandma Rose called, “Dinner’s ready, kids.” Billy and I got up and went into the kitchen. Grandpa Joe was already sitting at his spot at the table. Billy and I sat down. I was in my usual spot and Billy went straight to the other side of the table, so I got the impression that was his usual seat. That was where Mick used to sit. Grandpa Joe said a quick prayer and we got to eating. It was delicious. We all ate the first few bites in silence. That is a sign of a good meal. After a bit, Billy started to tell us funny and interesting stories about his life and also asked about our lives. Grandpa Joe and Grandma Rose told the story about how they met and got married. That’s a good story. I didn’t say much.

Towards the end of the meal, both Billy and I told Grandma Rose it was the best meatloaf we had ever had. We meant it. “That’s because you both are starving yourselves!” Grandma Rose exclaimed. Billy laughed. “That’s true… I used to just drink instead of eat. I am going to have to figure out how to not drink anymore while trying to not get fat from eating Rose’s food. I have a rock star figure to maintain.” I smiled. I was surprised how open Billy was about his drinking.

“I’m not trying to starve myself, I just haven’t been very hungry.” I confessed. Everybody looked at me. “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked Billy. He nodded. “Yes, I am sorry to hear it. I don’t know the gory details, but I got the gist. I am sorry that is happening to you Jac, you are in a tough spot. That’s the kind of thing that usually happens to me! If there is anything I can do to help, let me know.”

I was getting a little choked up. I think everyone could tell. I got up to clear the table. “Billy, you can help by going into the living room and playing a few songs while Grandma Rose and I get the kitchen cleaned up. Grandpa Joe will keep you company.” Billy and Grandpa Joe went into the living room. I stood at the kitchen sink with my hands in the hot, sudsy water and washed dishes. Grandma Rose stood next to me and dried. I bowed my head and cried a few tears.

All these changes were a lot to absorb. Mick had a son, Billy was sitting in Mick’s spot at the table… I was living on a boat and playing music with a rock star. Grandma Rose let me cry. She understood. Billy played a bunch of songs from his Greatest Hits album. He kept it light, playing only the happy songs. I think he knew I needed it.

The rest of the evening was spent playing music. Billy brought down his guitar and played for us. He played a bunch of stuff… his famous songs, plus some old time tunes that everybody knows. Grandma Rose played as well. It was clear to me that they had played together before – they were good. It was a nice evening. I was tired though, and before long I just laid down on the floor, put a sofa cushion under my head and listened to Billy. Paulie came over and circled three times and laid down next to me.

Before I knew it, it was 10:30 and it was time for everyone to go to bed. Grandma Rose wanted me to stay, but I told her I would be fine. Paulie and I jumped into my Volvo and headed back to the marina. I swung into my parking spot at the marina and Paulie and I walked up the dock to The Gypsy.

As I stepped onto the deck I could see Smitty McCoy flashing his flashlight three times from his upstairs deck. I didn’t have a light, so I yelled, “Goodnight Smitty!” He yelled back, “Goodnight Jac. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Someone from a few docks away yelled, “Get a room!” I could hear Smitty laugh. I smiled, shook my head and went below deck with Paulie.

Boy Scout Motto

 

I looked at my hands. They were covered in blood and trembling.

How many times had I been forced to cross the bridge with a gun held to my head? I had lost count. My Dad used to say, “Whatever you do, don’t let them get you into a car. Make them kill you first.” He was right.

I was completely stunned by the attack and didn’t put up any kind of a fight. I thought about that mistake for many months. Had it been a year? I was put in the car. When I woke up, I was on the ground with my hands tied and mouth taped. I was in the middle of nowhere with one of my long-time patients looking down at me. He smiled and then dragged me by the hair until I managed to get my legs under me. He walked me across the bridge with a gun to my head.

Tonight, he made the mistake of leaving the butcher knife unattended. I crossed the bridge for the last time. My Dad used to say, “Do you know the Boy Scout motto?” I nodded, “Yes. Be prepared.” Tonight, I was prepared.

Advanced Chemistry

Book Cover Advanced Chemistry

I published my first book. It is a “cozy mystery” that is very loosely based on my life.  Don’t worry, old friends.  I made up most of the juicy stuff. Most of it. Not all of it! Someone had to die and I didn’t have the heart to kill any of my real friends so the dead people are all fake people. There are some nods to people both dead and alive who have made my life interesting.  It is a love story in more ways than one. It’s a nod to the hometown I grew up in, the town I live in now… and most importantly the friendships and relationships that have molded my life.

The years are going by fast for me now. Looking back into my early twenties and writing a story based on those years was a blast. The twenties are such a crazy time… trying to figure out what to do with your life…  managing the expectations of others… and maybe not really knowing what to do… somehow it all gets sorted out.  Those decisions turn out to be important and pretty much dictate how life is going to go… so it’s not without risk.  This book made me think about the decisions I have made in my life and what the end result turned out to be. I felt both happy and sad.  Woulda, coulda, shoulda….

I published it on Amazon. I don’t expect to make a ton of money on the book… I just wanted to try to write a book. That is something I have wanted to do for many, many years. In my high school year book- my ambition was to write smut books! That is so funny to me now.  I think I just like to make up stories and see where they go.

This book was written from August 2017- February 2018.  I walked many miles along the lakeshore plotting of good ways to kill people.  I attended the Writers Policy Academy in Green Bay, WI last summer and it was in the arson investigation class that my first big idea for the book came to me.  Actually, it was presented to me in class and I twisted and turned the idea.  Thank you WPA.  I am attending again this summer. I have a bunch of questions to ask and I am sure I will get some more good ideas and information.

Lakeshore 1Lakeshore 3Lakeshore 2.JPG

The characters have become friends and I can’t wait to see what happens to them.  Jac Sanders and her best friend Sissy McNamara can’t help but get themselves into trouble! Throw in Sissy’s hot big brother Mick and a German Shepard named Paulie who flunked out of police dog training and you have got…. another story!

Just write the book.

Last year I attended my first writers workshop. I went to the Writers Police Academy in Green Bay, WI. I went for a number of reasons.  Initially, I signed up because I wanted to see Craig Johnson (author of the Longmire series) in person and listen to his keynote speech.  Then I decided to attend the entire three day conference and signed up for classes in Death Scene Investigation, Blood Spatter, Arson etc… it really lit a fire under me! Hahaha! I met a lot of interesting and friendly writers who are obsessed with telling stories about people dying in very unpleasant circumstances. It was right up my alley.  I participated in a hands on long gun class- which means I shot an assault rifle. It was informative, engaging and a great way to get my creative energy flowing.

The last evening of the banquet I sat at a table of about ten writers. We introduced ourselves and discussed what we were writing and if/how we were planning to publish the book.  I admitted that I did not have a book, but that I had wanted to write a book for as long as I could remember. The writers all encouraged me- regardless of whether it would be self-published, published independently, or if I got an agent and publisher. They told me it didn’t matter. Just write a book.  So, I did.

It’s a “cozy” which means it is a lighthearted romance with a murder/mystery thrown in. I started writing November 1, 2017 as a first time participant in NaNoWriMo and published it on Amazon today.  I don’t know what will happen next, but I know that writing this book was fun.

I signed up for the Writers Police Academy again this year.  Jeffrey Deaver is the speaker this year. It should be interesting… It’s the ten year anniversary for WPA so they are going all out. The classes and speakers look great.  I signed up for a bunch more hands on classes and look forward to learning new ways to portray my characters and get them in and out of hairy situations.

Mostly, I can’t wait to see my new friends and tell them that I did exactly as they recommended. I wrote a book. I just might write another one. My main character, Jac Sanders is a lot like me. I have to figure out what happens to her. I will keep you posted.

Flying Too Close To The Sun

I had a farm in Africa…

No, not really but lately I have been receiving some cosmic mojo from Isak Dinesen’s book Out of Africa.

You know, the one that was made into a fab movie starring Meryl Streep and Robert Redford. She played Karen Blixen, a gutsy Scandinavian who married a Barron to get away from her family. He was a very likeable sort, and they really were good friends. That being said- he had numerous affairs and gave her syphilis. She survived by having terrible treatments (this was before penicillin, bummer) leaving her unable to have children. Denys Finch Hatton, played by Robert Redford, was the gorgeous ex-soldier turned game hunter who loved freedom more than anything or anyone else. He was an addicting combination of extremely capable (no lion is going to eat you on his watch) and well-read and a bit romantic. In the movie he washes her hair by the river while reciting poetry to her. That will do it. Sign me up.

But wait, hold on! There is more to the story and I just found out about it this week.

If you recall in the movie there is a character of a young tomboy named Felicity. She and Karen were fond of each other and became friends. She is sent to school and comes back gorgeous and well mannered. Karen later does not like it that Denys is taking Felicity flying with him. Remember that? Oh yes, my kitties. There is more to the story than that.

Here it is.

That character was based on a real person. That person was Beryl Markham. Beryl grew up kind of wild. Her father was a horse breeder and trainer. His wife took his son and returned to Europe leaving him alone to raise Beryl. From all accounts she was tall, gorgeous, extremely talented with horses and most certainly a woman before her time. She was married three times, had a few open affairs….one with a Prince but that was shut down by the royal family.

She was friends with Karen Blixen. She also had an affair with Denys Finch Hatton and may or may not have been impregnated by him and had an abortion. Wow!

It is reported that on the day Denys Finch Hatton was killed in a plane crash… he had first asked Karen to join him and she said “No.” He then asked Beryl to join him and she was asked not to go by a flying friend who had a bad feeling about flying that day. She said, “No.” She felt there would be other days to fly.

Denys’s plane went down that day.

Karen went back to Europe and became a writer. She had been writing stories all along and published her first story at age 22. Her marriage and the coffee farm in Africa were but one part of her life. It was that life that she recorded in Out of Africa which was first published in 1937. She also wrote Babette’s Feast which was also made into an Academy award winning film. It won the 1987 Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film. The name is familiar to me but I have not seen the film. I hope to do so this weekend. It is reported to also be a favorite of Pope Francis.

This is also interesting to me because I am getting some religious vibes. More on that later.

As for Karen, after she left Africa she continued to have some ups and downs. It seems to me that her success as a writer did allow her some fun. She became a bit of a character herself and was regarded as being eccentric and a bit of an outsider. I could find no more mentions of lovers or relationships after Denys. She was plagued by health problems and it is widely believed that she was anorexic. It is thought she died in 1962 of malnutrition.

Beryl Markham broke the rules. She grew up wild, got married and divorced a bunch of times, and had a few affairs with men who seem to have been very interesting. Go Girl!

She was the first woman to become a licensed racehorse trainer in Kenya. She later was the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic from east to west. She wrote a memoir, West with the Night, that I am dying to read. Her book did not receive very much attention when it was first published.

Later, in 1982 in a collection of Ernest Hemingway’s letters it was found that Hemingway himself praised the book saying, “But this girl, who is to my knowledge very unpleasant and we might even say a high-grade bitch, can write rings around all of us who consider ourselves as writers….it really is a bloody wonderful book.”

That spurred some interest in the book and it was republished in 1983. The proceeds allowed a now broke Beryl to live the rest of her life in modest comfort.

If you want to read more about these people/characters in a fictionalized setting check out Paula McLain’s book Circling the Sun. I just read it and that is why this story is being written. Oh Paula, what road have you gotten me going down?

As for me…

Many of you know that I am single and have never been married. No kids. There have been a few romances along the way… good ones…bad ones…. They were all worth it. Am I like Karen and Beryl? Am I destined to be alone at the end of my days with nothing but a few good stories to tell? Would that be okay? Maybe, I think to myself. Maybe.

Something has shifted. I think maybe it is stemming from the yoga I have been doing this past year. Last night I went to a sound immersion- a combination of restorative yoga and then resting while a sound therapist plays gongs and chimes. I did not think anything was happening to me. Suddenly, I was fully awake, right before the crescendo. I was energized and knew that I could handle it. I was AWAKE. I wanted to jump up and run out of that room and get GOING.

Where are you going and what are you going to do, you ask?

Well, for starters I am going to STOP WORRYING.

I signed a contract to purchase a historic building. I plan to gut it and design a new optometry office. I had to give my notice this week to my current land lord- so I am officially past the point of no return. I was stressing out about the building stuff- rules, rules, rules! Who knew that renovating a building could be such a hassle. But I have found the right architect and he is going to steer me through the mine fields of historic building renovation and City codes… I have faith. He is good at what he does and I am going to let him do his thing.

I am going to RELINQUISH CONTROL.

I think this is the underlying basis for pretty much everything that is happening in my life.

I overthink everything.

Thinking can be good. There is nothing wrong with attention to detail and striving for excellence. Perfection on the other hand… is a nasty word that needs to be destroyed. What is perfection? Can perfection endure the test of time and forces of nature? I have tried to be perfect. The perfect daughter, sister, friend, and lover… I can state with certainty that perfection is at a minimum fleeting and most likely nonexistent.

What is it then? What am I craving? What am I needing?

I think what I need is to be able TO BE MYSELF.

I want to try. I don’t always care if I succeed. I want to try to write a novel. Who cares if it is bad? I want to travel to places I haven’t been. Who cares if I don’t like it? I want to cook and bake and eat and drink. Who cares if I am not as skinny as I was in 1987, or 1996, or 2005? I want to be me and I want to eat some bread, dammit! My face and my boobs are certainly showing the effects of gravity. Who cares? I might not look as good- but I do have some good stories to tell. I want to have lots more of those stories to tell before I end up too old to remember or dead. I want to do those things with people who like being with me and don’t expect me to be perfect. I want to be able to disagree at times and have messy hair without fear of abandonment. I want to be able to wear my flannel pj’s with holes in them and still feel desired. Is that possible? I may have gone too far.

As for being alone, I have seen with my own eyes that most of us do end up alone. It is probably a good thing to be comfortable with that from the get go.

What are the rules? I do not know….rules, rules, rules! I am not a big fan. What is good for me, might not be good for you. Who is to say?

Yesterday I was speaking with a lady who is helping me find new health insurance. My current plan is being axed from Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield. I buy my own health insurance and have for many years. The whole thing is a mess. Anyway, she told me I have a few options. One is to buy traditional insurance. The other way is to join a group of individuals who are Christians who “help” one another with medical expenses in a Christian way. She asked me if I was a Christian? I said, “Yes” because I grew up going to St. Mary Magdalene every Sunday and CCD every Wednesday of my young life until I turned 19 and started tending bar. That was the end of that. However, I still pray to St. Rita and I have faith. I am not sure if that qualifies as a resounding yes, but I think that got me over the first hurdle. Ok, now on to the second question. Am I interested in helping others? That one was easy. Sure! I am a definite “Yes” for helping others. The last question…Am I living my life in a way that upholds Christian beliefs? Uh oh. What does that mean exactly? Well, for this model of medical sharing (they don’t call it insurance) it means that if you engage in behavior that is not considered acceptable… you will not be covered if you hurt yourself or get diseases. No smoking, no drinking and driving and getting into accidents. No sexual relationships outside of marriage. Birth control isn’t covered. You get the drift.

For the most part- I do live a Christian life. I am not 100%. You had probably figured that out by now. I thought a lot about that. I am a sinner. I sent a text to a good friend and told him I could save $2300 bucks a year. He replied it might be worth $2300 bucks a year to have fun. Lol.

So, I am going to pay extra and get traditional health insurance. I just don’t want to have to LIE about anything or pretend I am someone I am not to save money.  I will stick with St. Rita (patron saint of lost cases) and try to live a good life.

Maybe I am like Karen and Beryl. In some ways I think that would be great. Maybe if all goes well I will have a better ending. I will work on that. Before you can have an ending though there must be a beginning.

I bought a historic building in Oshkosh…

101 High.JPG