A lot has been going on lately, some of it challenging my sanity. I live in a lovely condominium with trees all around, beautiful green lawns and where neighbors are nice but generally keep to themselves. A condo next door to me (I live upstairs in a flat that comprises all 950 square feet with two two-story condominiums connected to my back wall) was vacant for months while the owner tried to sell. With the housing market as it is, a sale didn’t happen and the owner rented it out.

They rented it out to two young men, probably in their early 20’s. I’ve had to ask that their visitors stop blocking my car, that they turn down their car stereo when in the carport, stop blasting their music and to get off my stairs. They sit there on my stairs below one of my living room windows and choke away on their cancer sticks, the smoke moving straight up into my home. The last two nights, I’ve had to burn incense and candles to get rid of the smoke smell. Worse yet, they leave their windows open while smoking pot, thus that disgusting smell wafts outside into my airspace.

A quiet little area has turned into traffic central since the first of the month! If they don’t respect my boundaries, I will need to complain to the homeowners association. Maybe there is another way, though-

I saw Freedom Writers where young people were encouraged to write their experiences and what life was like for them. In this vein, I realize I have no idea what their lives were like growing up, what their lives are like right now, why they act the way they do. Maybe I can go buy them some notebooks and encourage them to write about their goals in life and what they want to do other than irritate their quiet straight-laced neighbor.

So much for that…

As for writing. My novel is starting to come together quite nicely. I am on Chapter 8 now, page 83, 17,270 words. I am really enjoying this process of allowing my characters to tell their story. It’s fun writing without knowing what will happen next, allowing the characters to be people too. Yes, I know- if you are a non-writer reading this, I must sound like I belong in the loony bin. But, the truth is that characters are people too!

I find that I am most creative when I make myself sit down and write, when I don’t wait for inspiration, when I have a schedule and I stick to it. No matter what happens, I write at least one hour six days a week, more if I can. Writing to me is as essential as breathing, sleeping and eating….

So much for that….

Looking forward to when Don and I visit Grandpa on Saturday. I’ll have some more to write.

So much for now….this moment, this breath….

This weekend, Don and I drove five hours from his home in Clearlake up to Northern California. We left a little after 6:30 a.m. on Saturday. The main focus of this vacation was a 50th wedding anniversary party for my Uncle George and Aunt Bertha. Even though I have not seen much of them over the years, and had not seen some of my cousins since I was a kid, I have fond memories.

When I was around six years old, my parents bought their first house in Fortuna, a small Northern California town about 2 hours from Trinidad, where my Aunt and Uncle still live. During the move, my older brother, Tommy, and I were sent off to stay with George and Bertha. Uncle George taught me how to milk cows; Aunt Bertha showed me how a chicken runs around with its head cut off. As we sat around the dinner table eating fried chicken and drinking fresh milk, there was plenty of chatter and laughter. At night, we all huddled in the bunk beds that Uncle George had built for his six children.

At the party, I realized what a gift it is that George and Bertha made it to their 50th anniversary. Uncle George battled leukemia for several years, and has been in remission for awhile now. Both he and Bertha are strong, loving human beings. It was such a joy to be there and share in the love they have for one another and their family.

After the party, we headed on up to Crescent City to stay the night with Don’s brother and sister-in-law, Ed and Tori. On our way up, we came upon a large grassy area to the side of the road where a herd of elk grazed, their presence so magnificent and statuesque. I counted 25 cows and one buck, all within about 20 feet from us. Several tourists stopped along side of the road and got out of their cars to take photographs or to just observe. The elk seemed unbothered by the human presence, even though the buck scratched his huge antlers on a tree and watched us, as if protecting his family.

That night at Ed and Tori’s house, I wanted to do some longhand writing in a spiral notebook I had bought along the way. But, by the time dinner was done and we were settled in, I was so tired that I couldn’t bring myself to write a single word. Instead, I fell asleep on the sofa while everyone else watched a program about wildlife! Sometimes I can beat myself up for not writing. However, I also know that it’s okay to take a short break as I do with anything else, just as long as I get back to it after vacation. Saturday and Sunday were my break from writing.

Sunday morning after breakfast, Don and I headed back home. On the way, we noticed a sign directing us to another place to view elk. We found ourselves at a park with hiking trails shaded with towering redwoods. We decided on a hike, and on the way back the herd of elk grazed in a meadow with a swamp/marsh area. After eating her fill, one of the cows led the rest of the herd into the swamp. Soon, the buck came along and chased the female elk across the swamp away from the herd and out of the water! Once the cow got on land, the buck lingered in the water, as if keeping guard. After about fifteen or twenty minutes, the buck headed the other way back to the herd, dipped his antlers into the swamp and then, in quick succession, tossed water and moss all over his back. Before we knew it, the entire herd started running as a unit through the meadow, shaking the very ground we stood on.

Today, as soon as I got home and completed some essential tasks, I sat down and wrote on my novel. I have come to realize that I need to make time for writing whether or not other stuff gets done. In my two days of adventure, I can pull out many story ideas. I think I want to write a short story about an elk- how about writing it from the elk’s point of view? Okay, maybe that is a little far-fetched. But, the point is that story ideas are everywhere and it is up to me to sit down and write.

© 2007 Susan Littlefield

When I was growing up, I spent a lot of time writing in my journal, a thick spiraled notebook I had bought at Woolworths. I wrote about whatever came to mind- fears that I was forever stuck in small town Fortuna, the hope that something better and more exciting would come along. I wrote sacred things, secrets I could not share with anyone but God and myself. I wrote verses of abstract, experimental poetry, then flowery heart-wrenching lyrics, filling notebook after notebook until I had a stack hiding in my closet.

Within those pages, I also wrote about my dream of becoming a writer. My dreams of becoming a writer grew big, so big that one day I fond the nerve to tell my mother. I showed her some of the poetry I had written. She discouraged me and said, “You need a real job, a career. And, don’t marry the first man who comes along either. You need to be able to make it on your own.”

When I was in high school, I wrote some essays and short stories for English class. I turned in the essays, but I kept the short story to myself. I thought I would be laughed at, ridiculed. After all, they were not as good as the stories I read in books. They were not even as good as my classmate’s stories!

Many times throughout high school, I would bring up being a writer to my mother. The scenario was always the same- I’d share my passion of writing, she’d tell me writing was fine but I needed to set my sights on a job that would bring me money. Finally, one day, after I’d graduated high school but had not yet decided on college, she told me I was just jealous of my aunt who also enjoyed writing. I was devastated at my mother’s words!! She wanted me to set my sights on college, on a career, so that I did not have to depend on a man to bring in my money for me. She would do whatever she could to make sure I saw value in myself as a self-sufficient woman. But, I wanted to be a writer and make my living putting words on paper!

About a week later, mother asked me to sit down. “I’m sorry I said those things to you. You’re out of high school now. Why don’t you go to college and you can also write.” With that, she handed me two books: Short Stories that Sell by Louise Boggess and Make Every Word Count by Gary Provost.

That day was life changing for me because I realized that my mother’s intentions were good. At 17, she chose to marry after taking her GED and decided her career was as a stay-at-home mom and raising three children (three wonderful children, I might add). She never had the resources to make a living outside of the home. She wanted for me what she did not have for herself.

Today I saw the film Freedom Writers and was inspired and reminded about how freeing it is to transport one’s truth onto paper. I cannot imagine what some of those kids lived through, the terror they endured every day. Sometimes it seems that verbal expression is not enough. My teenage journals contained truths that I cold not verbalize. I believe that writing is the one true avenue toward feeling freedom within, whether it’s journaling, writing a novel, or writing an essay.

Many years ago, I gave up my dream of becoming that famous writer, or of making a living off of words. Today, I still write but I write because I love it. I’ve had some poetry and a short story published, and I am currently working on a novel. However, my motivation has changed. I write because I love the feeling of freedom when I put words onto paper.

My mother had been gone since 1985. But, if she could see me now, she would be proud. I listened to her when she told me to go to school and learn how to take care of myself. I didn’t marry the first man who came along. I listened to her when she told me to write for fun. Mothers know what they are talking about.

Every time I look through those two books, I am reminded of my mother’s wisdom.

© 2007 Susan Littlefield

I have not written in my blog for awhile. This month has been a lot of fun, especially with family and friends. A few weeks back, Don and I visited my grandfather, who lives almost two hours away. We always have a good time with grandpa- he is a small German man with silver hair, mild-mannered and sweet as can be. He has an outrageous sense of humor that keeps the family in stitches!

For several years, Grandpa and I have had a tradition of lunch once a month- a different person pays each time. At first, when I was single, it was Grandma, Grandpa and I. Then, Don came into my life two years ago and the lunch routine changed to double-dates! Now that Grandma has been gone for a little over a year and a half, it is Grandpa, Don and I. The physical dynamic goes through a change, but the lunch tradition stays an integral part of our lives. Many times, we eat lunch out somewhere, or when Grandpa is not feeling well, we eat in. If no other family is present, we almost always finish the afternoon with Yahtzee. I have never beat Grandpa at Yahtzee, nor did I ever beat Grandma. Two seasoned Yahtzee pros if you ask me.

Around February, we had a scare with Grandpa’s health- at 90 years old, he ended up having his gallbladder removed. Luckily, it was removed with a laparoscope and Grandpa was able to recover quickly. The doctor warned there could be residual effects with gallstones. Sure enough, just this last week Grandpa became ill again and had to go to the hospital. He went through a procedure where the doctors found a stone in his liver duct. They had to make an incision made and remove the stone. Keep in mind, Grandfather is now 91 years old. Yesterday, after undergoing this grueling procedure, and after the comics of the anesthesia wore off, he was back to himself and doing very well. Thank goodness!

In between the business, I have been writing on my novel. I am striving with all of my might to write every single day. I like the feeling of getting words on paper. It’s important that I get my basic story down in an entire first draft before editing and doing a rewrite. I don’t know how many rewrites I will actually do. Before submitting to an agent, I want to make sure it is thoroughly edited and written to the best of my ability.

At the Writer’s Digest forum, there were some threads concerning “book doctors” and self publishing. I have already made up my mind that both flow against my grain. I really want to go through the entire process of getting an agent and of my work being accepted because I put my own sweat and tears into it. I have learned from seasoned publishers that self publishing is practically suicide for a novel. I am all for self editing and traditional publishing.

This is all I have to write for now. In the last 15 minutes I have written 570 words, and I am proud as pickles (where did that come from?) about it! I would like to write more on my blog, but sometimes working on my novel and plain old life gets in the way!

Until next time….

Take it easy out there!

© 2007 Susan Littlefield

In my last entry, I wrote that I was going on vacation. I enjoyed the time I spent with my cousin, Tammy, and being present during her graduation for her Master’s Degree. I also spent time with my uncle and many cousins and their significant others, as well as second cousins! For me, it’s always great to visit with family and learn more about where I come from. Family is a reminder of how precious life really is.

I spent the rest of the week at home. I had grand plans for doing work around the house, of accomplishing great tasks that I did not otherwise have time for. As it turned out, I did not take any of those big projects on. In fact, I was quite lazy and found myself being a couch potato and snuggling with my white and gray tabby, Buddy ask Budster. Once I couldn’t take the daily lethargy anymore, I went to the gym and went on a cardio blast to get my frozen blood circulating.

My greatest accomplishment during vacation is that I found plenty of time to write. I have been writing a novel about an adult who finds out was abducted as a small child. It’s an interesting journey allowing my mind to run with the story, to bring my character alive within myself, to realize that, while I create the story, the characters create themselves.