So my daughter and I were talking. I told her I was happy that she was comfortable enough when the kitchen flooded to cuss at me. To me that feels like she was able to express herself without worrying that I would be angry about it. I am big on self expression, which should surprise no one. She said that her therapist encouraged her to use whatever language she felt the need to express the thoughts in her head. *This is where I should note that we really don’t know any other language except American English. We know a few smattering of words in other languages, but not enough to be a fluency of it’s own…but swearing…well…yeah We swear like sailors around here. She mentioned that my mom had said that swearing shows a lack of intelligence. I so completely disagree. I think that it often is looked down upon, but there are times when a good creative swear (note I said creative) shows more intelligence than not. And not always does the swear have to be dirty. One of my favorites is a foreign (for me) word that means shame on you.
I have tried to make my home a place that my kids can call to express anything. I don’t judge them for speaking their minds. They can literally tell me anything. I am their safe space. For me that is what home should be. It is not what all of us had.
The last couple of days have been a whirling shitshow. I am completely out of my routine. Today I am dealing with an enormous amount of laundry…and the various dishes that are actually normal for my house. I am squeezing in doctors appointments and errands. I somehow want to attempt to write today. I am an ambitious soul after all. The end of the month is coming quite quickly, and I have two anthologies and an indie author publishing in October.
I am already preparing for kid’s week – The first week in December. We have books planned by A.R. Clayton, D.W. Storer, C.M. Snow, Raz T. Slasher, and 2 by me. (One picture book and one middle grade). I feel like It is going to be a good offering this year. The first Call is out for the spring anthology. And I have submitted a poem and a flash piece of Serena’s to various places. Some things are just falling into place. I will let you know as I hear about the submissions and the results there.
I was going to do the usual poetry update today…but my kitchen sink busted last night…well a piece of it did. We have a hose attachment that allows us directly to use water (my dishwasher is a portable) and the hose busted. It is not going to be an expensive fix. Just was a panic at 2 in the morning because of the flooded kitchen. It got me thinking, much as most incidents like that do.
My daughter was the one who had found the flooded kitchen, and bless her she immediately went to work cleaning up the mess. She sent me messages to wake me up. She was comfortable enough to curse at me for not answering the phone (I was actually in a deep sleep for a change). I wonder if I would have ever been so with my mom.
We had a conversation while we were stuck at Walmart about what our favorite dinosaur was (hers is a Saurolophus, mine has always been a triceratops) and I adore the little things that I can get to share with her. (The dinosaur conversation was initiated due to a figit toy she had in her purse. A club tailed dino filled with sand that can be manipulated various ways.)
I don’t remember ever being comfortable enough talking to my mom about anything. My doctor finds my mom and I to be a funny topic. I told her (doctor) that My mom still is blaming me for a virus I had as a teenager. I had infantigo when I was around 11 or 12. Mom is still convinced that I caused it by picking at it. And even though I am in my late 40’s brought it up as I was going to cause myself to get it again. The doctor thinks it’s funny. It is a bit of the epiphany for me.
I always expect my daughter to be amazing. Even if she has a bad day, she is going to be amazing. Nothing can change my mind on that. My mom expects the worst about me. She always has, always will… and I have to stop letting her voice color my self view I have spent 47 years trying to be good enough for a woman who is never going to see me as adequate. Time to change my aim.
Reguardless of the reason why the conversation happened, I was struggling with imposter syndrome. It irritated my boyfriend. So he proceeded to point out that Mark Twain was not a college graduate. I smiled at him and started listing the authors that had a college degree. Unfortunately most of them we not known during their own lifetime. It got me to think…
What will be history’s thoughts on me? Will I be relagated to some dusty shelf for books that no one reads? Or will I be someone’s favorite author?
So I have been busy working on publishing tasks yesterday, Well that for me included dealing with the dreaded Goodreads Now admittedly I don’t do everything I need to with it, because every time I go there it is the same thing. I can’t claim all of my books on there. Not even the ones all written as me. The reason – My name is too common. I should be able to give the information about the book and claim it…but no. It is based on the name of the author. I am debating doing a rebranding. Adding my grandmother’s maiden name in as my middle name (I tried my middle name to start with…it is even more common.) Still I wonder how much I should rebrand? Should I just start from here? or go back and rebrand from the beginning? There is a lot involved. I just don’t know if Goodreads is worth the effort. I have my amazon author page. I have my books2read reading list. Does anyone other than authors even really use Goodreads?
Though I have to say that I am annoyed by how common my name is. Names have always been a fun thing for me. I wanted to write as Susan Ann Andrews when I was a girl. I really thought it was the prettiest name out there. I chose to write my poetry and my kid’s books under my name because I wanted to love my name again. I wanted it to be mine again. It was part of healing the abuse I had been through. I chose to do the pen name of Serena Mossgraves for my horror and darker stuff so that my kid’s books would not be tainted by those writings. So I am struggling now. Do I really want to rebrand simply because of how common my name is? Or do I stick with who I am? This really feels like I am facing an existential crisis. Do I change my persona for the idea that I am not fitting in? Or am I fitting in too well? Oh crud. I really don’t know what to do here.
Yesterday I was sure that I needed to change the branding. Today, I wake up and find in my email in response to my help request…OK we merged this and this….I look on goodreads…now one of Serena’s books is listed as Patricia. And still not even half of my books are listed as me. I still can’t claim them. Changing my brand will mean I have to go and fight them for the right to the listing all over again. In order to change it I need to go into KDP and D2D and Google Play and Barnes and Noble. Change The Details on each. I need to upload a changed cover for each. Then I need to hope that I have not screwed something up. For one or two books it is not that difficult…but I have a catalogue of around 30+ It is a hugely daunting task. OK… I can change my branding from here on out…but the whole reason I wanted to do it was because of Goodreads not letting me accept my books…if I change my brand it will throw them into a worse fit.
I think I need to think on this. I am going to do nothing about it until after the first of the year at the least. That way I can be sure I am still needing to adjust and I don’t feel like I rushed in for stupid reasons.
I sometimes feel like Alice… the rabbit hurrying me for fear of being late. Admitted, I expected to be late for today. I was not in the mind space for blogging last night. To tell you the truth I am not quite there yet today. I survived the MRI. Though I was scared to death of it. This week I am going to be late if I post anything. I hate doing that but it has been a crazy week and it is only a Monday. I guarantee that I am not going to be able to do my blogging usual, but hopefully what I do post will be worth reading.
So, hurry hurry and let us see… what exactly the rabbit has in store for you and me.
The title of the post is thought catching, Isn’t it. I finished writing Handprints on my soul today. I was trying to decide how to announce it, and the Release date – November 18th… On the blog and I ended up joking that it was the end of an era…and it just seemed appropriate. Each of the volumes feel like a section of my life…
So the era of Handprints is over. I looked through the covers and I think the next general volume will be Thoughtcicles. When I woke this morning I found it was cold. We are at the very beginning of fall. I love fall, but I don’t really like the cold. I feel like I have more trouble thinking in the cold. Since I will be starting to write this in colder weather I feel like it is appropriate.
I will be over the next few weeks starting the marketing for Handprints, alongside Not another Danny…and the other stuff that Fae Corps is releasing. But for today…Here is the last poem in Handprints on my soul.
The last poem. Literally. And somehow… I see eternity.
I am five poems away from finishing The volume Handprints on my soul…and I am struggling with my writing…Not because I am unable – obviously. I just have too many topics and too many thoughts… so many that I have been fighting Insomnia. The end of a volume is always an anxious time for me. It is when I question my writing. It is when I question my motives. It is when I question my value…
Yesterday I answered a poem with a poem. The first poem was written by someone I love very much. A child I had given up at birth because I felt myself in a poor position to care for them. The child is now grown and I am amazed by the similarity they have to me. Also a talented poet, they posted one to their Facebook page. I have in the past found it fun to respond to poets with poetry…A slightly odd behavior perhaps but I find it a fun challenge. (I have been specifically responding to haikus written by my friend, on his Facebook feed In haiku because I find the syllable count to be challenging.) So I did not think twice to do the same with my child. Their reaction surprised me.
They said that they would never be as good as I am. I responded that they already were. In some ways that is such a lie. I see their poetry as better than my own. I see everyone who writes as better than my own. I am incredibly biased. I will never stop seeing the flaws in what I write. Though I imagine that most authors do the same. The problem is though I have some days where my writing is brilliance…I also have the days where putting more than one word on paper feels impossible.
I have days that I feel like I am too insane to be allowed to speak – much less use my voice to put something into this world that will be around for an indeterminate amount of time. (That is what writing is you realize? Passing your thoughts into the hazy future for the random person to read.) And I end up feeding the darkness of those days with my own self doubt and anxiety. That is why I refuse to be jealous of other writers or artists. Why I just judge my work and no one elses (unless I am editing their work which is when I am trying to help them get it to a state of technical perfection…) I shy away from people who cannot understand that I do not require judgement or want to be around jealousy. Those things make me harder on me. Instead I need honesty and just simply to be accepted for who I am.
Today I am a poet. I am strange and I am quiet. I am introvert. I am a writer. I am an explorer. Who are you?
Ps I also seem to update the blog more at the end of a volume…mostly because as I stated…This is when I am questioning myself more so I end up coming here with the random thoughts of am I good enough…knowing that I will never hear the answer I am needing to here.
Ever want to just scream? Or throw everything in the garbage and just say the first idiot thing that comes to mind? Yeah that has been me lately. I Don’t wanna be that girl who is always there for everyone. Hell Really I am NOT that girl but I am not that boy either. To be flat out honest I am not ever even sure what I am. I am not anything that I can put a label on. I tried to talk to my therapist about it…Only to find out the words I did use to describe myself were not good. (Weird is apparently hateful)
So I am the lonely introvert who pushes everyone away. I don’t fit anywhere. I don’t know if I mind that so much…though it adds to that feeling of not having anyone who sees me. Don’t get me wrong – I have a best friend…who I feel like I am burdening because I have no way of talking to with out complaining. It doesn’t help that I am high functioning in my anxiety. So I take on more than I can do…and then refuse to ask for help. She wants to help and I end up doing what I do ask her to do because my brain tells me I am asking too much.
My damaged soul is just enough that I can see the problems I put out into the world, but I cannot seem to help myself from pushing away those who try to accept them. I normally avoid talking about the mess that I am because I am trying to put forth an image of competence and professional nature…but as I said Lately I am wanting to say the first idiot thing that comes to mind. Instead…I think I will say thank you all for your patience with me and my lackluster blogging of late.
I am hoping after the MRI on Monday I will be in a better headspace. I am hoping to get back to our regularly scheduled half mad idiocy.
Yeah, I am sure y’all know this one by now…But today it is simply because I am fighting an almost daily migraine. I am fighting mental health issues, hard, and I just don’t have any extra energy to suggest new web comics. The internet is so full of Wonderful comics, but I just don’t know what I have already recommended and don’t have the energy needed to pick a new one.
Instead I will recommend a neat content creator on TikTok. She sings Puns. She is a fun creator. I may alternate a bit and recommend some Tiktok creators in between some web comics. It sounds like it might be less stressful. Go laugh at Drew and her Puns.
Pattimouse 