We Don't Know Me

Hi friends:

You can find my latest blog at Jenny Gilliam's blogspot: http://www.jennygilliam.blogspot.com/. The title of the blog is "You Don't know Me." It's also posted below:

You don't know me so let me introduce myself. My name is Lena and I'm pretending to write a romance novel. I mean, I'm not really pretending, but it really feels like I am pretending. Sometimes I even feel like I'm pretending to pretend to write a romance novel. Good grief, it may be that I'm not actually doing anything. Is it all pretend?

As you might suspect, this pretending thing concerns me. It concerns me because I quit my day job last December with the adamant intention of finishing a full length novel by early spring 2009. So far I've written about half of a novel that - I swear to you - quite suddenly stopped making sense. And, to my horror, it seemed to take a rather dark and gloomy turn. Considering that I am known, almost universally, as the most horribly cheerful and fun-loving person you could ever meet I began to worry. This was when I started to realize that - gasp - I don't know me either! Or, at least, I don't know all of me. Who am I and what am I doing?

This question is alarming, depressing, agitating, exciting and significantly uncomfortable. It is also my loyal companion on this labyrinth-like journey of writing a book. It's not as scary as it initially seemed however because, as it turns out, it is also the fodder of my trade. Not knowing me – or what I'm doing - sparks my imagination. If I can't achieve the answers through the use of reason and logic (and trust me, I can't), than I simply must shift out of my head and into my heart. And then it comes. The story, the plot points, the characters….they simply come right out of my heart. And through these things I catch a glimpse of who I am and what I'm doing.

Maybe someday I won't have to torture myself with this dark and gloomy process of fear-doubt-surrender before I arrive at the answers. But, then again, maybe I won't. And maybe I don't want to. Maybe I don't want to end my daily journey of casting off the smallness of my mind in order to delve into the deep well of universal experience that is the birthplace of all Story? The place where I know me and you know me and we recognize one another because we understand things in this place. In that place we are all embracing love and joy and celebrating - without shame – the beauty of our bodies, our feelings, our very natures. There we are free. Whoa. I am getting all this from the process of writing a romance novel. Awesome.

So, I suppose, whether or not I ever find my book on the shelf at a bookstore or the NYT Best Sellers List I can feel confident that I am not pretending to write a romance and that I am, in fact, learning who I am and what I'm doing at every cross in the road. And I can rest assured that you do recognize me even though you've never seen my face or read my book. You understand me because you've been to that very same cross in the road yourself. It's even possible that you are there with me right now.

See you 'round - LRW

A Day in the Life

A list of the unfortunate daily rituals of one unpublished writer:

• Wake and identify excellent new plot points for story. Feel enthusiastic.
  
• Drink coffee while waking household to a bright new day. Think about exciting new ideas for story.
  
• Make 3,478th sack lunch for child.
• Argue heatedly with boisterous 10 year old son about weather appropriate clothing, politics, God, the pros/cons of sword fighting near a hot stove, the NerfGun dart that is stuck to the back of my neck, and what shoes he will wear (he will make the WORST choice).
  
• Use threats, coercion and bribery to successfully send son off to school.
• Chastise self for good measure.
  
• Search memory for new plot points identified that morning. Fail to locate them.
• Chastise self for good measure - again.
  
• Despair over writing career.
  
• Drink coffee and read email.
• Open Story on laptop.
  
• Suddenly think of something else that needs to be done right away.
• Do that other thing.
• Return to desk.
  
• Read Huffington Post.
• Consider blogging but feel inadequate for the task.
  
• Stare interestedly at toenails. Consider seeking emergency pedicure. Remember vow to stop all self-indulging behaviors until first book is published. Ha.
  
• Talk to dogs about problems.
  
• Think fondly of the days when cigarette smoking was cool. Pat self on back for quitting years ago while secretly fantasizing about making smoke rings.
  
• Pluck eyebrows thoroughly (as if this is actually possible).
• In an effort to justify lack of creativity (and to avoid having to actually WRITE), read and edit Story pages written to date.
  
• Have a snack and wonder if it is too early for a glass of wine.
• Experiment with new Epi-Lady on legs and armpits. Yeouch!
  
• Have another snack.
• Drink coffee.
  
• Drink coffee.
• Drink coffee.
  
• Re-read Huffington Post.
• Day dream.
• Nap.
• Drink coffee.
  
• Call a friend to talk about her problems.
  
• Go for walk or run or do yoga and day dream the entire time.
• Use positive self-talk to pull myself together.
  
• Sit down at desk again and disconnect from the internet.
• Despair of ever writing a complete story much less publishing one.
• Take a deep breath. Exhale.
• Begin, finally, to write.
• Write and write and write until that subtle shift occurs and I am lost in the sea of my dreams.
• Start over the next day.