So, our summer is going well and I am getting those things done on my list:  our garden is beginning to look like a garden again; those recipes I wanted to try, I am making;  I found a writer, Rob Marsh, whose books I am enjoying; things are being collected for the garage sale; and those odds and ends which needed doing are slowly getting done.  But the harder thing which nags at my conscience is my writing so today I sat down as planned and wrote for two hours.  It was a memory piece of growing up in the Catskills.

The funny thing that happened was that after I finished the piece;  I was reminded of an event which took place one year after my first year teaching elementary at a title 1 school in Florida.  I really enjoyed working with most of the children, but I had an ugly encounter with a principal who was part of the “good old girl system.” To this day, I still can’t determine why she singled me out and made my year the year from “hell” that is when she wasn’t absent from the school.  The good thing was that by googling her name, I found out that many had complained about her but I was so naive and green to the district that she ran over me like a lawn mover on beautiful green grass glistening in the sun.  So, I was side tracked and then I began to look up soon of the teachers I worked with to see what happened to them.  Then I looked up an old friend who I knew when I was studying in Paris.  She worked as a secretary for the South African Embassy.  I went to her wedding in New York years later when she married the South African diplomat.  I send her a note on facebook asking, “Charlene, do you remember me? You and I were good friends in Paris.  I would bring you croissants in the morning for breakfast.” Maybe I will hear from her or maybe she will just let it go.

For someone who wants writing material, I have plenty of it with my past but at the same time it is amazing how time goes swiftly racing down the mountain while I spend googling old friend’s names or searching for them on facebook, so 15 minutes becomes an hour of time spent like this.  Because writing is hard and then I research the best way to publish my writings and it becomes more challenging.  So 20 minutes later, I write down Fiction Alive Press as a good option and also University publications of which I have been published in previously as my best bet.  Being published in The New Yorker is probably not an option.  Then I begin to think of inviting a writing group into our home but I want to be in charge of it ….maybe my husband should find another club.  Then I think of some of the very talented writers I work at with the University and wonder why I am not part of their book club.  But then I realize as I read other writer’s work that we are different and our style of writing is different.  I wish I were an Alafair Burke but my style and subjects of writing are often not main stream, so until I figure out my voice and my direction, I just have to bite the bullet, keep on writing and stay off googling the past.  But yet, I can certainly use it in my stories!