On This Day 12-31-2007

On this chosen day, Writer Woman looks into 2008 with a backward glance into 2007. What can be said about 2007? It was a year of surprises and change. Writer Woman is becoming accustomed to both. She almost sold her novel and then the deal fell through at the last minute. A tree fell on her house due to the drought conditions. One of her personal essays was accepted for publication in a large popular anthology. She began a memoir on her mother’s last two years of life. Good news arrived on the eve of New Year’s Eve. Writer Woman was contacted by a magazine editor who wants to feature her Black Mountain stories in her April issue. This is a first for the magazine to feature only one writer for the issue, and Writer Woman is beside herself. Maybe this is a good sign for 2008.

What happened to the cake? ‘Love of Her Life’ came by last night and picked it up. He had no idea what he held in his hands. Writer Woman restrained from pointing out how long and what effort went into the baking. Instead, she only smiled.

Shortly before for ‘Newly Married Daughter’ and ‘Love of Her Life’ showed up, the Christmas decorations came down. With all the best intentions and promises, Writer Woman still didn’t get started until late afternoon. Funny how it’s so much fun to put up all the festivity, but when it comes to taking it down, the task is more like a household chore. Soon the house was stripped of any remaining sign that Christmas had arrived and left. The rooms had expanded in a matter of a few hours. She could breathe.

Writer Woman made vows not to put so many decorations out next year, but she knew this was just a lie to get her through the cleaning process. Next year would bring just as many decorations or maybe more.

It’s the same when Writer Woman writes a story. Always there is a paragraph, sometimes several, that she falls in love with. The sentences make her sound like such an articulate writer. It is just such sentences that takes away from the story and must be cut, put away for a better a use. She promises herself that she will not write such stuff again, will not get carried away with the sound of her own voice, but it is a lie. A writer has to write without the editor sitting on her shoulder, dictating the good and bad. A writer has to love her voice.

So, in this coming year, Writer Woman has promised to write only her best work, but this makes her laugh. Because it’s within the worst prose she writes the jewels, the glimpse of a wonderful story, a better chapter than the previous.

Writer Woman wishes you a Happy New Year and a year of writing. Now get to work.