Grandma's Hands

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of my Granny. She earned her wings years ago, but she's with me with every keystroke. Allow me to put a pin in that for just a minute as I get to the business at hand.

This writer's website is 1 day and 4 years in the making....yes, you read that correctly. I bought and have been paying for this space for four years. I'm a space hoarder...there, I said it. It wasn't until back was against wall today when someone asked me for my bio and website link, to which  I shamefully said, "I don't have a bio and I have space, and I know what I wanna do with it, but nothing built." The caller said, 'You have until 5p to send me something. Oh and remember, that is 2p your time." Sure, I had ideas for the space four years ago. Excited, I began to build out the pages and then I realized as a communications professional, I need a well thought out Comms Plan. At that time, looking for a job to survive was paramount to a dream career. The thought made me cry then. It sickens me to the pit of my stomach as I type this four years later. It's no less true, except now, I'm determined to have my next paying job BE my dream career. Do I have a communications plan now...NOPE! So at this point you are probably thinking, "girl, bye...you are in the same stuck rut you were in four years ago." "Pity party Lauren" is right there with ya on that. "That one there, can kiss my ass Lauren" is  thinking, "hold on there, Sparky." There has been progress.

In the first two years of the last four, I've written 200+ pages of my debut novel. They weren't 223 pages of anything publishable, but I had the wherewithal before embarrassing myself with submissions and crushing my spirit with rejections to recognize that fact. In the last two years, I have participated in webinars, virtual writing groups, conferences and retreats to learn the craft of novel writing.  I have joined a book club. I have read myriad of craft books. I am now in my third writing group and my Happy Place peeps ARE my tribe.

I have put said knowledge and inspiration to work on an outline. I am so far deep into outline hell, I can't remember what the catalyst was that begat this abyss from which I am only now beginning to see light again. There is actually ice water in hell. I learned I am not a Pantser...I am a Plotter...and I'm thinking, a Plotter with a problem for which couch care might not be a bad idea.  In  four years, I have done numerous comms plans for my day job. I can whip one up nearly as quickly as Domino's can deliver a pizza. Slight exaggeration, but I know what I need to do to make a thorough plan...so why haven't I? Hmmm... more reasons to hit the couch. Be that as it may, I haven't because I've been working my way back to the book - the outline. Nope...have not written one blessed word of the book again and I won't until this outline is complete, but I'm almost there and I invite you to keep visiting my page when I pop the cork with my Happy Place peeps to celebrate that milestone. At this age, I celebrate and encourage myself just by putting feet to floor and not letting out a yelp every morning.

In the meantime, I remain energized after four years with no book to show for it because I applied the sage advice of my writing mentor who said early on and keeps reminding me, "write it down....did you write it...until you write the thoughts down, you aren't clear about it." My ice water while in purgatory has quenched my thirst for structure and hell, all pun intended, learning what the story really is and THAT, I owe all to my Granny.

Entering high school decades ago, my parents advised me to take vocational classes as well as college prep classes so that I would have life skills. My Granny, who never provided unsolicited advice to my parents, letting them rear me as they saw fit, chimed into the conversation declaring, "I don't care what my first lady studies as long as she is happy AND that one of those classes is a typing class. These computers in these rooms now are gonna be useful, I think for her to write later. Baby, take typing. You'll go far with that."
 
With every keystroke, these hands, Granny's hands, are typing my way to my future.