Gosh, wish I had kept a decent blog record of my journey toward becoming a published writer. But, alas, I did not. So, I will just move forward. I have been pounding out the words of my stories, and exploring publishing avenues. There has never been a time like this in the publishing industry. The ground is shifting so rapidly beneath authors' feet that it is a challenge to dance fast enough to keep up.
I have shifted my old blogs to wordpress, a very easy two click operation offered by Microsoft, from the now-defunct livespace experiment. I am sad that I lost so many wonderful contacts associated with that account, though. Boo, MSN once again.
So, this site, along with several others, will be my beginning of networking all over again.
I am searching my soul for inspiration, but all that comes to me is sad and dark. The novel I am working on right now--THE CRIMSON MAOLGURDANE-- was started a couple of years ago, before loss managed to pervade so many spaces in my life.
Grammy Buss, gone a year ago in October. An inspiration to anyone who ever wondered if a human really can love everyone.
My job of 22 years, lost last August in-- yet again, another corporate restructuring. There might be a blog about that later. I loved my job and losing it was a deeply painful experience. But, it has given me the opportunity to attempt to do what I truly love to do. Write.
Our old dog, Gus, lost last August from complications of diabetes--after a nearly two year struggle with the disease. Sweet old Gus Buss...a god among dogs.
My mother in November, after a series of events leading up to her heart attack while in the hospital, subsequent resuscitation, ICU, feeding tubes, ventilator, dialysis, and a diagnosis that her brain waves were slowing and she could no longer swallow. Hospice-- for ten days she lived...I spent nights with her, and had a lot of time to examine my life, and to recall hers...there are no words that can describe the empty place in my heart.
Dave's best friend and best man from our wedding, in February, a dear young couple's loss of their preemie daughter in February, reminders that life has no rhyme or reason, and loss is not limited to just those over a certain age.
The pain of loss knows no boundaries, is not prejudiced, and crosses into every walk of life, every age, every economic bracket.
Last week, my old dog of 15 years, Pokey. Now in the ground like so many. He taught me that my belief in dog deities is not monotheistic, but polytheistic. I now know more than one god among dogs.
I am reeling. I know it, but have taken very little time to grieve. It will come out. I don't know when or where.
Perhaps in the words of a story...my pain will disentangle itself from my soul and flow onto pages to be shared?
But, like I wrote above, this is the beginning...I guess I just felt a need to acknowledge some endings before I trotted off into the future.