My new vocation – fiction writer

I’ve been keeping a pretty regular beach walking schedule since moving here to Port Orange, 3 months ago now, typically walking 3 days a week.  It’s getting dark earlier these days so if I get to the beach by 6 pm I can get an hour walk in before dark – down to the green-roof house and back. Tonight after work, when I left DeLand, it was sunny and beautiful, a perfect night for walking.  Approaching Port Orange, only 25 minutes later, it was a tornado-sky – not raining – but one of those fall/winter skies that looks ominous – so I thought I’d bag it. But then, then, my determination returned.  I changed quickly into beach walking attire, actually donning a long sleeve shirt (I know it’s sooo exciting, long sleeves in Florida) Anyway, got to the beach, the only one stupid enough to be there, and headed out for my walk. It was soooo windy but I went to the right and walked down(south) to the green-roof house no problem. A lightness in my step, a feeling of walking on air, proud of my fast pace, proud of my high spirits and then I turned around.  Holy shit. That damn wind had pushed me down the beach. I thought it was me, my light nature and happy self, but here I was being carried by the wind. Walking back was torture. (I think there’s a metaphor in here somewhere)  I just now looked on the weather app and it says there’s a 13 mph wind tonight but Jim Cantore would agree that it’s closer to 100 mph. Perhaps a slight exaggeration but surely more than 13 mph.  In the end it was an invigorating workout with all that wind in my lungs and salt air opening up whatever it opens and I got it all in before dark.  I’m so dedicated. God bless me.

Since last blogging (how long has it been Pat?) Usually Pat sends me an email reminding me how long it’s been since my last blog.  I haven’t heard from him this time, I’m not sure what that means, but anyway I digress, since last blogging I have discovered 2 local writing groups.  Actually there’s more than 2 but for now I’ll stick with just 2.  So what you do is upload up to 10 pages of your writing (book, whatever you want) and then everyone in the group gets a chance to read what you’ve written and critique before coming to the next meeting.  An exercise not for the light of heart I tell you.  But good to hear comments when you’re trying to improve.  I’ve only submitted to one group so far.  I’ll submit to the 2^nd group for the next time.  Anyhoo, I submitted the first 10 pages of Finally Florida.  I’ve already been shopping it looking for an agent but it’s good to keep polishing because no one is biting yet.  So far everyone that reads Finally Florida (edited or not) says they want to keep reading, well except for an agent or publisher saying that.  One member of my new group writes about his time serving in Afghanistan.  Very excellent writer, very different from my fluff.  I don’t think he has a lot of patience for my fluff.  It’s not for everyone, it’s okay! He offered the most critical (but good) comments. Zachary says the more critical the better (dam kids) anyway, one of the comments is that I write with way too many “I” – Sharing this comment with Zachary (oldest son) I wrote to Zachary :

…“but I think it’s my style and my voice and for this particular book I’m not sure I can change that.”

Zachary responded:
“but it’s my style and voice and for this particular book that’s not an easy change.”
or
“but changing my style and voice for this particular book wouldn’t be easy.”
or
“but it wouldn’t be easy to change my style and voice for this particular book.”

Hate him.  (notice the lack of “I”).

I find myself now trying to think without “I” so when brain dumping I leave it out. Notice I’m not being successful with it.  But nevertheless, it is a challenge.  Going back through my Finally Florida pages I have changed a few sentences but it’s really hard. (although successfully changing some pages in Finally Florida, it is a task that is a difficult challenge…doesn’t even sound like me does it?)

Most everyone in the writing group(s) are fiction writers.  I thought…wait no…thinking about this, I thought (I can’t do it)…thinking about fiction writing…and trying to think of ways to broaden my writing horizons..I thought I’d see if I could give fiction writing a go…

As some of you may know, I’ve been struggling with why I live here in Florida now.  Never a fan of DeLand, not a fan of the job, no social life, no real reason to be here, other than the weather.  Moving to Port Orange has helped immensely with moments of happiness, many moments.  I love the beach. I have a pool, a movie theater, the Home Store, Paneras and the beach. Wait I already mentioned the beach.  Well, it’s worth mentioning twice. Anyway, the move here to Port Orange has helped.  But without that job, that I’m going to quit at some point, I wonder if I will stay in Florida.

I have preached all my life about being true to myself, no matter the cost, life is short, yadda yadda, and, well, if I stay in a circumstance where I am not appreciated or worse, then who I am? I know it’s not pretty when I leave, but is it worse to stay where you’re not wanted?  Surely when I get to the leaving point I know that leaving is the only option, for me.

So back to my story, the do I stay? or do I go? story.  On the “pro” move back up North side – of course it’s where my boys are. However, I know realistically I’m not going to see much more of them even living across the street anymore than I see them now living 1000 miles (but only a 2 hour plane ride) away.  They cannot be the reason I go back up north.  But the babies, those great nieces and nephews, they break my heart every time I have to leave them to come back to Florida.  Donevan asks me every time I visit “Do you like moving all the time?” I answer “I hate it” He responds (I swear every visit we go through this) “why don’t you come home?  Come back here.” Usually I respond something about the weather. Lately I’ve said “I’ll be back, but not yet.”

And Mya, she literally makes me cry when I leave.  After my last visit I sobbed.  She was crying so hard our last morning together that I too started to cry. When I’m there visiting we are attached at the hip.  I feel that sometimes she gets a little left out in all the commotion with her siblings so it’s nice that she gets the attention from me when I’m visiting.  Of course Donevan gets a little pissy that I’m not spending enough time with him too so I have to be careful to spread the love.  Kai, the baby, well he still is on the fence about me. But given the chance to go for a walk he’ll hold my hand, or if I get to take him to school he’ll be okay with it.  He won’t talk to me, but he’ll let me take him.  Love those kids.  They will ultimately be the reason I accept going back and facing the cold, if it comes to making that decision.

There’s this little girl who lives in my apartment complex.  She reminds me so much of Mya.  I saw her standing by a car one day.  Just standing there by herself. I thought, “she looks like Mya.”  She has really long hair.  Mya has short hair.  I bet Mya’s hair would look like that if she let it grow out.  I wish her mom would let it grow out. The girl with the long hair just stood there looking at me, she was all alone. She was making me miss Mya so much.  So I took her.

End Chapter 1

Lynn Monahan
Fiction Writer

xoxoxo