Starting Over ~ Fingers on the Keyboard

Posted on May 2, 2013 by Linda Barrett

A BEAUTIFUL REMINDER…

My new bookmarks arrived yesterday. One one side is the pink banner that you see above. On the other side is the cover of Family Interrupted with some information about it. Ordering bookmarks is not new for me. I designed and had them printed for almost every book I’ve written. Their arrival at the house was always exciting. But it’s been three years since my last book was released, and the FedEx package that came yesterday contained more than my latest bookmark.

It contained proof. Proof that I’m still a working writer. Proof that I’m back in the game. Sure, it’s now a digital world, and I wonder how to distribute bookmarks to readers buying on their Kindle or Nook. But that question didn’t matter as I opened the carton. My hands shook a little as I stroked the top layer of polished pink 2 x 7 cardboards with reverence. And then I smiled. Widely. Yes. Writing is what I do.

There are easier ways to earn a living. I know that. I’ve gone through periods of doubt many times, especially in the beginning, and learned that a writing career is not for sissies. It’s not for the faint of heart. I don’t say that lightly. I don’t say that to show off or to scare those pursuing a writing career. The truth is that to succeed in this profession, not only must you produce a good story, but you must be a special kind of stubborn. Not the stubbornness of those “who will not see,” but rather the kind requiring belief in yourself and your stories.

Most important, that belief must reside in the very core of who you are. If creating stories is part of the air you breathe, if you talk to characters in your sleep, then you have the soul of a writer. The road to publication and beyond, however, is filled with potholes. Along the way, you will trip. And you’ll have to pick yourself up and begin again. And again.Stubbornness comes in handy.

There are easier way to earn a living. Teaching high school subjects to homeless adults for seven years was easier. I loved it. I gave 110% of myself to that position. But at day’s end, I jumped into my personal life, into my second career. Writing. When I worked a day job from Monday to Friday, I put in fourteen hour weekend days at the computer as well as a couple of hours at night during the week.

A thick skin comes in handy. Remember those potholes? Whether you submit your work to agents, traditional publishers or to an editor you’ve hired independently, be prepared for rejection. Be prepared for the brush off: “Thank you for submitted your work. Good luck elsewhere.”

Or be prepared for a ten page, single spaced critique that might turn your story inside out, upside down and backward. The timeline is wrong, backstory too heavy, and the pacing’s too slow. The main character is unsympathetic. Her motivation’s not clear, and no one will care about her. You’ll think that the editor knows nothing! Until you reread your manuscript through the editor’s eyes and realize she’s got a point or two. Or three.

There are easier ways to earn a living. But my bookmarks are here, and I am one stubborn gal.

How about you? What struggles have you had on your writing journey? Let’s talk among ourselves.

WE HAVE A WINNER: Louise B has won the April contest. Congratulations, Louise!

NEW DRAWING!! Leave a comment and you’ll be entered into the May drawing for a free copy of Family Interrupted or your choice of book from my printed backlist. Bookmarks included with either one!

Thanks so much for stopping by. I hope to see you next time for another edition of Starting Over.

Linda

Starting Over ~ and Over and Over…

Posted on April 30, 2013 by Linda Barrett

Empire State Building – my hometown symbol.

ONCE A NEW YAWKER…

A few years ago, I shared the news about the birth of my first granddaughter on my website. One reader wrote to me and said I had to move to Florida, that I could not live a thousand miles away from a grandchild. Well…okay. Maybe I agreed in spirit, but practical reasons prevailed then. Now, however, I know she was right! Nothing beats living near family. So, for the fourth time in my married life, I’m starting over in a new home. Which might sound like a royal pain in the neck to many of you.

I grew up in the Empire state, in New York City, with aunts, uncles, and cousins nearby. For those of you who might imagine New York to be only a hustle and bustle place, let me assure you that family neighborhoods thrived. My childhood was secure in Jackson Heights, Queens, with many friends and real everyday people living in apartment houses, attached row houses or single family homes.

As a young married woman, I moved north to the Bay state, to a place called Worcester. I had never heard of the town and was very nervous about relocating and leaving my familiar territory. So Mike and I made weekend trips every month or six weeks back to the city to visit everyone. Both sets of parents visited us as well. Grandchildren are such a draw! Worcester, Massachusetts became a place on the map for all of us. It took just a little time for us to settle in very well.

When our sons were in college, Mike and I headed to the Lone Star state because of a new job. Was I thrilled about moving? No. We’d become very comfortable in Worcester and didn’t want to leave our friends behind. Who wanted to start over again? But, we did..Whether by plane or car, we headed back up north regularly. Every time LaGuardia airport came into sight, my heart raced with excitement. And two years ago, we started over in the Sunshine state.

I’ve actually loved living in all four places – New York, Massachusetts, Texas, and Florida – and feel lucky to have tasted life in various sections of this beautiful country. What can beat genuine Texas B-B-Q or the casual lifestyle? “Hey, y’all. How’re doing?” Texas Friendly is what I call it. And what can be more breath-taking than the blazing autumn foliage of New England, or more fun than apple picking time? I scarfed up the clam chowder and lobster whenever they were on sale.

The time it took to transition from tourist to resident, adapting to the culture of each region, became shorter with each move. But no amount of regional delights could erase my New Yawk beginnings.

It seems to me that ‘starting over’ is NOT a problem that interrupts your life. It’s simply part of the long adventure that IS your life. Whether it’s a new home, or a new husband, I think starting over enriches the journey. While my New York roots remain strong, and I will always reach for a second cup of cawfee, a glass of Florida orange juice tastes very sweet, too. .

I’ve set several of my stories in New England and Texas. Oddly enough, The Soldier and the Rose, a WWII love story, was the only book I’ve written that took place in New York City. Are there any native New Yorkers out there reading this blog? How about visitors to my hometown? Or is New York the last place on earth you’d go?

DRAWING! Post a comment and you’ll be entered into a drawing for a copy of Family Interrupted. Winner chosen tonight! Will post winner’s name on Thursday.

I post a new blog every Tuesday and Thursday. Hope to see you for the next episode of Starting Over.

Best always,

Linda

Starting Over ~ A New Home

Posted on April 25, 2013 by Linda Barrett

These match. Mine don’t 🙂

LET’S GET REAL…

Happiness in a home can be measured in closet space. Whether you live in a one bedroom apartment or a four bedroom ranch house, closets are the real in “real estate.” As an extra challenge, basements don’t exist in the southern tier of this country, So say goodbye to a terrific storage alternative. I spent my early married life in Massachusetts in a house with an unfinished basement, but it was large enough for us to throw down a rug and use as a playroom. Mike even built a “sports” closet under the staircase–much appreciated for the basketballs, baseball gloves, ice skates, even sleds and whatever else kept our three boys busy during each season.

Then we moved to Texas, and now live in Florida. Southern enough? Definitely no basements. My organizational gene was challenged, but with a little surprise help, I conquered this issue..

In Texas, my lower kitchen cabinets were filled with a hodge-podge of pots, pans, storage containers, cutting boards, trays, colanders and even a George Forman grill. I will never have a color coordinated matching set of anything because everything I have still works beautifully, So how can I throw them out? Besides, I’m a basic cook. A decent basic cook. I know which pots I use for brisket – the two Dutch ovens. I know exactly which crummy one I use for boiling eggs so no other pot will turn black inside. I’ll admit I’m a creature of habit and comfortable with my array of stainless.

But I wasn’t comfortable messing around inside the cabinets, trying to dig out the exact pan I needed. Aerobics in the kitchen. Bend. Reach. Bend. Reach. Left, right, center. Crash. Crash, crash. Oy, the noise! Every time I went through another crash routine, I’d think about installing sliding drawers which I’d seen at Lowe’s. But then I got busy and forgot about it until the next time.

Finally, next time arrived. One Saturday, I walked into the kitchen to see a mess of Reverewear, Farberware, Emeril and whatever else I’d collected all over the floor. Mike was lying on his back, his head and arms scrunched inside that bottom cabinet. I could hear the curses and grunting emanating from the depths. Then the commands:

“Lin, hold this screw.”

I held it.

“Lin, I need the screw.”

I gave it.

And twenty minutes later, I had a stainless steel two-drawer storage unit. Pots on the bottom; covers on top. I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Surprised?” he asked.

“Sure am. How did you know to take this on?”

“Hard to miss with all that complaining you did.”

“Moi? Complain?”

His eyes gleamed. “Maybe just a little. Now, how about a kiss?”

I stepped closer, my feet bumping into the pans still on the floor. This time, I didn’t care about the noise. All I saw was the pleasure on Mike’s face for having made me happy.

So maybe “real” isn’t about closet space at all.

In Florida, I actually have enough drawers for the pots and pans, but those plastic and aluminum foil rolls, the plastic baggies and dish washing soaps had to go somewhere. And the space beneath the sink is totally inadequate the way it is. Another item on the “honey-do” list. And another kiss–maybe more than one–from me. Just keeping it real 🙂

Thanks so much for stopping by, Hope I see you next time for another story about Starting Over.

Linda

Thanks so much for stopping by. If you have a story you’d like to share about what love looks like to you, send me an email and it might appear in this column. Spelling and grammar don’t count!

DRAWING: Remember to leave a comment and your name will be in a drawing for a free copy of Family Interrupted. Drawing held at the end of the month.