Category: Musings & Ramblings

Bad Juju

On By BekkiIn Musings & Ramblings1 Comment

I’m not exactly sure what it is that makes a “house” a “home.”  Maybe it’s the sense of a space having been lived in.  Maybe it’s the way the bones of the house arrange themselves around you when you walk in.  Maybe it’s like Justice Stewart’s definition of pornography: you’ll know it when you live in it.  I can tell you this, though.  The new house in Vallejo is home in a way the Glen Cove place or even the Brooklyn house never were.

We didn’t intend to buy a house so soon after moving here.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I told A five or six times that I’d be just fine staying in the rental a few years while we figured out where we wanted to live and found a place.  Except… the Glen Cove house had bad juju.

It made sounds.  Not “house settling” sounds, but “someone is in the house and walking around” sounds.  “The house is talking to me sounds.”  A sheet of glass in the garage spontaneously shattered, exploding so hard that it sent shards of glass flying a good ten feet away.  A light bulb in the upstairs bathroom that was screwed into the socket fell out, crashing into the sink.  And Z invariably said “hi” every morning to something neither A nor I could see.

Glen Cove House
Glen Cove House

Then we found out the prior occupants of the house had been an older man, who either had Alzheimer’s or was mentally ill, and his younger relatives.  The neighbors told us they thought the relatives were using the man for his social security check.  The bathroom downstairs had a lock on the outside and smelled like urine.  The neighbors were pretty sure he was locked in there most of the time.  We think maybe he died in there.  Because that house was angry, and it was mean, and it was sad.

The new tenants moved in on Halloween.  They seem nice.  I hope the house likes them.

Resolute

On By BekkiIn Musings & Ramblings2 Comments

I wasn’t going to do resolutions this year. It’s always seemed silly to me that the only day of the year you can reinvent yourself is January 1.  And anyway, my resolutions always seem to be the nebulous type. Things that are easier to say  than to put into practice.  Be patient.  Be kind.

Sometimes, though, the universe has a way of nudging you to where you need to be.

The first thing that happened was my friend Christine posted this gorgeous picture of her hand-lettered resolution for the year.  I wanted one.

Then another friend started a blog to chronicle her journey to health and wellness over the next year.  And I thought (and still think) that takes guts, to put yourself and your goals out there for anyone to see.

These are both ladies I truly admire, people who’ve worked hard to get to where they are, who have gone on pretty incredible transformations of the self.  But I still hesitated about making any kind of resolution.  Because, you know, I’m not that kind of girl.

So the universe gave me a swift kick in the seat of my pants, in the form of my husband saying one night, as we were washing up after dinner, you really should try to make time to write.  Because when you write, you’re more patient and nicer and less crazy.

He’s right.  It made me realize that maybe the trick to being a better person is to just be the kind of person I’m happy to be.  And while that seems like an incredibly obvious sort of truth (Tao of Pooh 101), I’ve spent the last five years working in an industry where we hide away our best selves to better fit the corporate mold.

I’m tired of being the person I’m supposed to be.  It doesn’t make me very happy, and it doesn’t make my husband very happy either.  It’s time I tried being the person I want to be.

Resolution the First

Apply Ass to Chair

I’m a writer.  If you’ve read this blog for any length of time you know this, as you know that I struggle with finding time to write.  I’d managed to get myself into a good place for a while back in 2012, finishing Persephone, drafting the zero draft of Railroad, and getting some Agent interest.  After I got pregnant, though, I was tired all the time, bone tired, I-go-to-bed-at-eight-and-can’t-drag-myself-out-of-bed-until-nine tired.  And with the baby… well.  There’s always something to do, laundry to fold, dishes to wash, a toddly to keep out of trouble.

But if I don’t write, I am not happy.  If I don’t write, I am not the person I want to be.  Enough said.

(The phrase “apply ass to chair” comes from advice given at the 2012 Clarion workshop.)

Resolution the Second

Get Moving

Writers are generally not known for their physical fitness.  We’re much more likely to be in a chair all day, hunched over our laptop or our notebook, frantically scribbling.

I’ve been lucky.  My body has, for the most part, been good to me.  It held a child and then returned (mostly) to the same shape it used to be with minimal complaints.  But it bothers me that I’m not as fit or as active as I used to be, and I don’t want to turn into one of those people who are old and creaky at 40.

And the person I want to be?  The one who makes me happy?  She likes to ride her bike and go hiking, and wants to share those things with her daughter.

Wanting and doing, though, can be very separate things.  Going to the gym isn’t an option for me, not if I wasn’t to have time to write and see my kid.  So I’m viewing this as a way to help me make choices.  Do I take the stairs or the elevator?  Do I make myself go to weekend yoga instead of sleeping in?  Do I actually use the pull-up bar at home?  When someone invites me to a work-out class, do I make excuses or do I say yes?

Conflicting Resolutions

I’m not thinking about these resolutions as keep or fail.  If I don’t write one day, if I laze out and don’t take the stairs, it’s ok.  Because every day, I get the chance to decide who I want to be.  Every morning, I can wake up and try again.

New Year’s Wish

On By BekkiIn Musings & Ramblings2 Comments
St. Pete Beach, June 2005
St. Pete Beach, June 2005

Ten years ago, I moved across the country to California. I had a newly minted degree in creative writing, less than $1000 in my bank account, and no reason to stay in Florida. Even so, I left a lot of things behind: an ocean that lit up at night along the edges of the waves; the restaurant where I learned how to wait tables and accept compliments; the woman who gave me my wings. I didn’t mind. I felt that I was moving toward something.

Between San Francisco and Monterey, May 2010
Between San Francisco and Monterey, May 2010

Five years ago, I moved across the country to New York. I had a newly minted JD, an offer at a big law firm, and a large pile of student loans. New York wasn’t my first choice, but it was a new job in a new city, and I’ve always been excited by new things. I left a lot behind: the farmer’s market with fresh, off -the-tree-that-morning peaches; the moody, untameable Pacific Ocean; family, and friends that were like family.  I minded this time.

This spring, we are moving again, back to California, back home.  I don’t have a job yet.  I should be terrified that I don’t have everything lined up, but I’m not.  I’m exhilarated.  For the past ten years, I’ve done what was expected of me.  College, law school, East Coast job, husband, house, child.  Check.  It hasn’t made me happy.

I’ve written here before about the impossibility of “having it all” and the need to decide instead to have it right.  For me, that means more time with my husband and my daughter.  It means letting go of what’s “expected” and doing what works.  It means time to write.  It means living somewhere that makes us happy, somewhere we have a support network of friends and family who love us.  It means going home.

And because it wouldn’t be New Year’s without a wish, here is my wish for you in the coming year:

Find the time for the people and the things that make you happy, and if you can’t find it, make it.  Do things for yourself, because you want to.  Ignore the people who tell you you’re doing it wrong.  Hug someone.  Smile at a baby.  And, as always, love and be kind to each other.

Things That Happen When You Become A Parent

On By BekkiIn Musings & RamblingsLeave a comment

1.  You find yourself rocking back and forth, even when you’re not holding the baby.

2.  Going to bed at 8 pm is the best thing ever.

3.  You sing, everywhere, all the time. On the street, in the subway, in stores.  Carrying the tune and knowing the lyrics are optional.

4.  You realize around dinner time that you haven’t showered or brushed your teeth all day.

5.  Everything gets a cute name.  Her toys.  Her outfits.  The dishes.

6.  Random things like shower drains and lawnmowers sound like a crying baby.

7.  You turn into a human jungle gym.  Hair, glasses, ears all become handles.

8.  Going to the bathroom becomes a family activity.

9.  Posting to your blog becomes one of those things you did before you had children.

10.  The best part of your day is coming home and seeing her smile.

…and then what happened?

On By BekkiIn Musings & RamblingsLeave a comment

When I was a kid, one of my favorite things about watching PBS was the part after the shows, where they said “funding was provided by X and Y company, and by viewers like you.”  There was something so darn cool about the fact that ordinary people could be part of shows like Reading Rainbow and Arthur.

That chance to be part of the magic, to make something creative happen, is what I like so much about Kickstarter. When you’re funding on a small scale, every pledge to back a project, even if it’s only a few dollars, matters. It’s exciting, too, holding your breath until the last minute, waiting to see if that project you backed is going to fund, or reach that crazy stretch goal you’re so hyped about. Kickstarter lets us all be patrons of the arts.

Enter Fireside Magazine. Once upon a time, during the “Golden Age” of the pulp magazines, a writer like Robert Silverberg could make a living on an average of 5 short stories a month. These days, pro markets pay 5 cents a word. That’s $200 for a typical short story of about 4,000 words.  Know anybody who can support themselves on $1000 a month, pre-taxes?  Yeah, me neither. *

Fireside is trying to change that. They pay 12.5 cents a word, or $500 for a 4,000 word story. At five published stories a month, that’s almost enough to live on. In order to make this happen, they’re running a Kickstarter, with a goal of $25,000. Right now, they’re only about 25% funded, with 17 days to go.

I want to see them make it.  I want to see a market, and an audience, that supports paying writers a livable wage.  So I’m offering to match donations made in the next 24 hours. I did this last year, with a $500 cap.  Together, we raised $922.

This year, I’m raising the cap to $625.  If we hit it, that’s $1250, or 10,000 words.  10,000 words funds 10 pieces of flash fiction, or 2-3 short stories.  10,000 words is almost enough to pay the writers for an entire issue of Fireside.

Let’s do this.

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Who are you, anyway?

I’m a writer, a lawyer, and a mom.  Not necessarily in that order.

When is this happening?

I’ll match all pledges from 2 pm EST on Friday, March 14 to 2pm EST on Saturday, March 15.

Why only 10,000 words?  You did just say you’re a lawyer.

Because it’s a nice, round number. And, without going into the economics of living in NYC with a kid and student loans, suffice it to say that this will eat up most of my discretionary income for the next few months.

What is Fireside?

It’s a magazine that publishes great storytelling and pays writers a living wage. Their stories aren’t confined to a single genre. The only criteria is that the story has to make the reader say “…and then what happened?”  Brian White, the cellar-dwelling pet of Chuck Wendig editor, has a great pitch for year 3 over on Wendig’s blog.

How does this work, exactly?

Easy.  Go to the Fireside Year 3 Kickstarter and make a pledge.  Then send out a Tweet using the hashtag #10000words and a link to this post.  Feel free to cc me @bekkiwrites or Fireside @FiresideFiction.  If you don’t use Twitter, post a comment here.**


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* Even the government agrees – the poverty line for a single person in 2014 is just shy of $12,000.

** You don’t have to post the amount you backed the project for, and I’ll match any pledge made during the 24 hour period, even if you don’t tweet or comment. But wouldn’t it be cool if we could get #10000words to trend?