General Writing · Journeys · storytelling · Time management · writing · Writing and Family

Writing, But Not What I Expected

I did not expect to fall in love with ancestral writing.  This type of prose differs from memoir but has many of the same elements- a snapshot of the ancestor’s life with an inciting event that leads to a conclusion. The beginning and ending are linked with a unique phrase or concept. However, whereas memoirs are generally book-length, ancestral pieces are generally shorter. 

Ancestral stories are intentionally void of non-fiction. You can certainly add impressions of what could have happened or elements of your own introspection, but it must be clear what is fact and what is not. 

So far, I have written about my paternal second great-grandmother who helped establish Cordell, Oklahoma, a paternal second great-grandfather who was a prominent farmer in Oklahoma, and great-grandmothers on both sides of the family who died young from disease and forever changed the lives of their infant sons. I continue writing these family stories and sharing them with my ancestral writing group created by our local genealogical society.  I have some exciting characters in my blood family!

That said, I have not accomplished much lately with writing fiction.  Now, being on a two-week staycation from my paralegal work, my goal is to redistribute my schedule so that I can do some serious writing each day.  I will not be picking up old unfinished work, some of which might not ever see the light of day.

I have decided a new beginning is what I need now.    

Today, I started working on a new novel using an idea that I have been chewing on over the last few days. 

A novel with a catchy title and twists and turns in the prose.  Unusual elements become characters in least expected ways.

A thriller with elements of my life of living at a lake—real life events slathered with embellishment to push readers to the edge of wherever they happen to be.    

Like I said, I love ancestral writing, but I have also missed writing fiction. 

Carry on, keep writing.    

Journeys

So Far, So Good

In September 2017 I moved from my condominium in the city (Santa Rosa is, at least to me, a city, since the county I now live in is smaller than Santa Rosa) to the rural community of Lake County, California. I moved to Clear Lake Park, a tiny community about a ten-minute walk to the actual lake of Clear Lake, the only natural lake (not made made) in California. As I settled in with the love of my life, I prepared my condominium for rent. The people came and applied, but background checks proved that I would not be renting to any of them.

Then, the devastating Tubbs fire happened, then the Sulphur Fire that was back door to where I had moved. We were evacuated from our house for about five days, and the area where condo is was evacuated for almost two weeks. Finally, when I was able to get back in to have an open house, desperate people came in droves looking for a rental. After all was said and done, I rented to a wonderful family who had lost their home in Coffey Park, Santa Rosa. It took them a year and a half to rebuild, and now they are safely back home, and my condo is up for rental again with the imprint of the good memories they left behind.

So, having advertised an open house, I waited for those potential renters to come running up the stairs. I advertised enough so that people from far and wide would know that my darling place I had lived in for 12 years was available. I emailed all the prospective tenants who had contacted me and let them know about the open house. I had been at the condo for over an hour when only one family showed up. Then another lady came with her smile, questions, and measuring tape. She took notes and filled out an application.

To be honest, I had anticipated the lull because the market is not as in demand anymore. After the fires, people relocated elsewhere, or they are still renting, waiting for their homes to be rebuilt.

So, I think today’s experience might be the Universe’s way of telling me it’s time for change- to release my 12-year past in my charming condo and move on. To let go this part of me, this house with good energy and history embedded in its’ fabric, to allow others to come and fill the rooms with their own joyous memories.

So far, so good. I am a true believer that my past has brought me to the place I am today. My past does not dictate who I am, but it has helped shape me into the self-sufficient and confident woman that my mother raised me to be.

Mom told me to get an education, find a career, and learn how to support myself. I did.

She told me to create my own life outside of a man. I did.

She told me not to marry the first man who came along. I did not, but I had a short union with the second man out of desperation and feeling like I was a late bloomer beside women my age.

I asked my mother why she wanted those things for me, and she said it was because she did not want me to be like her.

My mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. She had a heart of gold and loved my brothers and me fiercely and was always there for us to the best of her ability. But, she was also raised in a time when she could not experience the things she wanted for me- so, I have been sharing this journey with her.

My mother passed away from cancer long before seeing the mistakes I made along the way and the life I have today, but I am sure she is smiling down on me now- no, she is beaming as I embark on this journey, with four months closer to marrying my best friend, the love of my life.

In fact, she would love him.

She would say…..so far, so good.