Monday Morning Thoughts After a Working Weekend

Thankful...that's how I feel.

I remember my first freelance features story for The Herald-News in May 1999 when I, a single mother of six children ages 2 to 15, was wondering how we would survive, how we would still carve out a family life when I needed to work so much, and how they would grow up to be wonderful people when my attention needed to be diverted away from them so much.

While watching the field of journalism change from 1999 through the end of 2013, it never occurred to me I might ever become an employee. Instead, I built out my freelance career and accepted additional opportunities from other clients.

My youngest son earned his GED in November 2013 when he was just barely 17. He had already been taking classes at Joliet Junior College since January.

In December 2013, I learned Shaw Media had bought The Herald-News. I thought that was the end of the freelance writing as a full-time job and resolved to look for work after our family Christmas in January 7.

Instead, a work colleague urged me to submit my resume since I was the ideal candidate (in her opinion) for the position. So I did, never dreaming I'd get a response.

But I did. And I was sitting in a chair as a new employee in The Herald-News office on January 15, 2014. So I guess the kids and I all graduated from our homeschooling experiences together.

"Thankful" really does sum up how I feel.

In 1999, I wound up working three independent contractor jobs for The Herald-News. I was home-based and my kids were nearby for all three jobs. My connection with The Herald-News allowed me to both work and raise my children and not choose between the two.

My children learned their keen work ethic through Herald-News related job opportunities. And we lacked no family life. It wasn't the same as in the past. But nothing stays in the past. So we must keep what we can and carve out the new.

I even met my second husband through delivering newspapers for The Herald-News.

One side fun fact: I was sick my first day as an employee at The Herald-News, although I didn't realize it until I walked out the door - I was that overwhelmed by my new role.

Ten years later, I'm telling hospital staff it was my 10th work anniversary. That's because on July 15, 2024, I was hospitalized for my second bout of diverticulitis in five months.

So I came into the role sick and spent a milestone anniversary sick. Hey, at least I'm consistent!

And in true journalistic fashion, it's now time to figure out WHY I'm having these repeat attacks, despite my good lifestyle habits.

Finally, you should know all six kids grew up into some of the nicest people you will ever want to mee.

As Tedious as Writing a Dictionary

Our family's experienced a rough twelve months.

We lost Frances in August 2022, my father in January 2023, Ron in May 2023, and we lost Theodora, my great-niece Evelyn Celeste in her second trimester, a step-grandson (Dhane), and Cindy lost her father, too.

Rebekah also lost her car when someone totaled it while she was sitting at a red light. And I've had two separate overnight stays in the hospital this month, along with two weeks of daily trips to the infusion center.

So I entered my first vacation week of the year behind in life things and needing a nice long break. 

I had considered taking a writing retreat during this time. But, honestly, I didn't want to focus that hard. 

So how have I spent the time?

I've been catching up on sleep, odd bits of "life" chores that kept getting pushed aside all these weary months, and working on the BryonySeries guidebook that I hope to have available at WriteOn Joliet's anthology release party on December 7.

The guidebook is called, Welcome to Munsonville: The People, Places and Things of the BryonySeries, and I started compiling it last year.

It has an introduction and three sections: people, places, and things. Each section has the appropriate entries with brief descriptions (no spoilers) and which book(s) the reference appears.

Here's an example:

"The Fish and the Ring": An English fairy tale collected by Joseph Jacobs in English Fairy Tales. Appears in “Before The Blood: Bryony Marseilles.”

The Fisherman and His Wife: Folk tale by the Brothers Grimm about the perils of greed and discontentment. Appears in “Before The Blood: Bryony Marseilles.”

The Girl I Left Behind Me: An old English folk song. Because a U.S. Army marching son during the War of 1812. Starts with the lyrics, “I'm lonesome since I crossed the hill, and over the moor that's sedgy.” Appears in Before The Blood: Bryony Marseilles” and “Before the Blood” Bryony Simons.”

The Green-Headed League: A parody title of the Sherlock Holmes short story "The Red-Headed League" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Appears in “Cornell Dyer and the Howls of Basketville.”

The Green Lady: Folktale from Hertfordshire. A poor girl finds work with a fairy and is warned by the fishes not to eat her food. Appears in “Lycanthropic Summer.”

The Eleventh Commandment and other Tales: Fictional book of short mystery stories by Harold Masters. Appears in “Bryony.”

The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo Nilous: A real ancient book, attributed to Horapollo, one of the last priests of the Ancient Egyptian religion in the fifth century. A copy sits in the library at Arcadia. Appears in “Before The Blood: Henry Matthews.”

Now, putting this BryonySeries guidebook together is as tedious as writing a dictionary. But a writing retreat is not amenable to multitasking.

But it's the perfect project for moving forward with the BryonySeries while catching up on rest and life tasks.

Have a great Friday!

"Song of the Shirt"

This poem from the nineteenth century is dedicated to characters in Before The Blood: Henry Matthews' mother and sisters, their friend Bess Masters, and Mrs. Cady and Mr. Langley, who gave them work, as well as to all those who feel as if their labors are vain and unappreciated.

A Poem for Labor Day

"Song of the Shirt"

By Thomas Hood

First published in 1843 

With fingers weary and worn,

   With eyelids heavy and red,

A woman sat in unwomanly rags,

   Plying her needle and thread—

      Stitch! stitch! stitch!

In poverty, hunger, and dirt,

   And still with a voice of dolorous pitch

She sang the "Song of the Shirt."

   "Work! work! work!

While the cock is crowing aloof!           

   And work—work—work,

Till the stars shine through the roof!

It's O! to be a slave

   Along with the barbarous Turk,

Where woman has never a soul to save,

   If this is Christian work!

   "Work—work—work,

Till the brain begins to swim;

   Work—work—work,

Till the eyes are heavy and dim!

Seam, and gusset, and band,                  

   Band, and gusset, and seam,

Till over the buttons I fall asleep,

   And sew them on in a dream!

   "O, men, with sisters dear!

   O, men, with mothers and wives!

It is not linen you're wearing out,

   But human creatures' lives!

      Stitch—stitch—stitch,

   In poverty, hunger and dirt,    

Sewing at once, with a double thread,

   A Shroud as well as a Shirt.

   "But why do I talk of death?

   That phantom of grisly bone,

I hardly fear his terrible shape,

   It seems so like my own—

It seems so like my own,

   Because of the fasts I keep;

Oh, God! that bread should be so dear.

   And flesh and blood so cheap!

            

   "Work—work—work!

   My labour never flags;

And what are its wages? A bed of straw,

   A crust of bread—and rags.

That shattered roof—this naked floor—

   A table—a broken chair—

And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank

   For sometimes falling there!

   "Work—work—work!

   From weary chime to chime, 

Work—work—work,

   As prisoners work for crime!

Band, and gusset, and seam,

   Seam, and gusset, and band,

Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumbed,

   As well as the weary hand.

   "Work—work—work,

In the dull December light,

   And work—work—work,

When the weather is warm and bright—       

While underneath the eaves

   The brooding swallows cling

As if to show me their sunny backs

   And twit me with the spring.

   "O! but to breathe the breath

Of the cowslip and primrose sweet—

   With the sky above my head,

And the grass beneath my feet;

For only one short hour

   To feel as I used to feel,          

Before I knew the woes of want

   And the walk that costs a meal!

   "O! but for one short hour!

   A respite however brief!

No blessed leisure for Love or hope,

   But only time for grief!

A little weeping would ease my heart,

   But in their briny bed

My tears must stop, for every drop

   Hinders needle and thread!"

With fingers weary and worn,

   With eyelids heavy and red,

A woman sat in unwomanly rags,

   Plying her needle and thread—

      Stitch! stitch! stitch!

   In poverty, hunger, and dirt,

And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,—

Would that its tone could reach the Rich!—

   She sang this "Song of the Shirt!"

Illustration by Matt Coundiff for "Visage."

All About COVID-19

Like many newspaper writers and editors these days, the bulk of my writing at work lately has centered around the novel coronavirus.

Here is some information I've shared from submitted content. This includes health information and ways the community is responding to the crisis.

The only post not directly related to COVID-19 is the first one.

However, these animals still need a home, perhaps now more than ever. If you have room in your house and your heart, consider opening up both to a special dog or cat.



Pets of the Week: April 13

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/10/pets-of-the-week-april-13/dwkau7p/


When do you need to be hospitalized for coronavirus?

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/06/when-do-you-need-to-be-hospitalized-for-coronavirus/a93bwid/


Community blood drive in Minooka a success 

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/06/community-blood-drive-in-minooka-a-success/apisx0t/


Morris Hospital postpones select services

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/06/morris-hospital-postpones-select-services/appb10z/


Minooka Community High School provides meals and laptops

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/03/20/minooka-community-high-school-provides-meals-and-laptops/assy78r/


Plainfield-based Friends for Charitable Giving now accepting grant applications

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/08/plainfield-based-friends-for-charitable-giving-now-accepting-grant-applications/avl1ec6/


TOPS offers tips for staying healthy while staying home 

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/06/tops-offers-tips-for-staying-healthy-while-staying-home/awsfuw2/


Workforce Center of Will County still providing help for job seekers

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/08/workforce-center-of-will-county-still-providing-help-for-job-seekers/ah1zhvz/


Illinois Early Intervention providers will be able to provide services through live video visits
Services continue for families with infants or toddlers with disabilities or delays 

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/08/illinois-early-intervention-providers-will-be-able-to-provide-services-through-live-video-visits/apvg16s/


Recovered COVID-19 patients may aid in fight against virus

 https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/10/recovered-covid-19-patients-may-aid-in-fight-against-virus/agh6622/


Past clinical experience, new facts guide medication choices for COVID-19

https://www.theherald-news.com/2020/04/10/past-clinical-experience-new-facts-guide-medication-choices-for-covid-19/ay4bl7y/

Illustration by Christopher Gleason for "Staked!" Follow him at artworkbytopher.com.

BryonySeries Throwback Thursday: What Keeps You from Writing?

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

What Keeps You from Writing?

Balance in your life is important.

One can't and shouldn't write all the time, even if one works as a writer and editor. Each individual must find his/her balance life and the writing life.

Nevertheless, many of us know that one person who is "working" on a book or who is "going to write a book" in that elusive someday...except that person is busy, busy, busy with so many distracting fun activities that the hard work of writing never actually gets done, except, at best, in short and occasional spurts and stops.

Are you a real writer or a pretend writer?

The first? When do you write? How often to you write? Do you write with any consistency?

The second?  List the activities you do instead of writing. 

You Still Have To Do The Work

Many people have an image of writers (and I've seen some sellers of various products use thia image in their marketing pitches) that looks something like this:

You lazily wake up without an alarm, mosey to the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee, enjoy a leisurely breakfast, and then spend the day blissfully transferring the stories living in your imagination to the computer, where (if you only had this marketing product), they sell millions of copies to adoring fans.

The End

Hahahahhahaha!

My mornings look more like this: wake before dawn (after hitting snooze a few times), stumble out of bed (to the delights of the cats because I'm FINALLY going to feed them), make coffee, stumble back upstairs, and sign onto the computer.

After posting a Bible verse, some good mornings on my social media pages, and birthday greetings, I then spend the next couple hours answering email and scheduling posts.

I then spend a couple hours working on my story budget while working out, as well as making phone calls (personal and work-related, and keeping up with email and social media.

The rest of the day is spent keeping up correspondence, keeping an eye on pages, writing and editing stories and news releases, editing pages, designing pages, and conducting interviews.

I am never finished and almost always push today's work into tomorrow...and into the weekend. I do not, as a strict rule, work on personal writing and editing projects during the week (no time), so all of that writing is kept for the weekend (or a vacation day).

The only day that MAY look like the aforementioned fantasy scene is Saturday, a truly magical time. For a few short hours, deadlines vanish. I've even had a few Saturdays where I've had NO "work" work to complete (rare), and I've spent an entire day working on a novel.

Here's what this past weekend looked like:

On Saturday, I actually did spend a few productive hours on the werewolf story before heading to New Lenox for a dentist appointment.

Afterwards, Timothy treated me to a cup of Gloria Jean's, which I enjoyed while addressing some BryonySeries related, non-writing chores with Rebekah, who was now home from work.

I scanned some photos for Monday's "An Extraordinary Life" photo list, took a break at sunset to get into the pool with Rebekah (the first time all year that happened), and then spent another couple hours scanning and processing photos.

On Sunday, I skipped church because I had to finish the "An Extraordinary Life" and design the page. Yes, I could have done it on Saturday, (or stayed up extremely late on Friday), but I felt this story needed a few hours of unbroken time and a fresh mind - so that's what I gave it.

I also ducked out to take a photo and, because I was in the area, to run over to Menards to look at fake fireplaces with Timothy and Rebekah (because they're considering buying one).

I then spent twenty minutes cleaning the house, and then two hours with Phyllis, a Joliet woman in her 90s. For the past year and a half, I've been working on her memoir. We are coming into the home stretch, and she actually cried when I read portions back to her.

After picking up my medicine at Walgreens, Timothy and I headed for Morris, where we spent a couple hours with Ron in the nursing home, a bittersweet experience.

Bitter because he's lost more weight, has pneumonia, and the dementia has firmly set in. "Sweet" because he was thrilled to see me. Enough that one nurse said she hadn't seen him look this happy in days.

Although he was extremely surprised I wasn't going to smoke with him and even more surprised that I had never smoked. Which left me wondering if he hadn't mistaken me for a former girlfriend in his younger years, which actually made ME grin. No matter, it made him happy for awhile.

Then it was back home for a quick dinner, a workout, and that was the weekend.

The point of this post is that a writer's life looks like anyone else's life: work and the rest of life.

Yes, there's those glorious moments of bliss in the craft, but many of those are planned, and the rest are elusive. Mostly, it's work, and you have to show up to do the work.

A writer writes, then rewrites, then cuts, edits, and (sometimes) goes online the next day to correct any typos that were missed in the process.

This is not counting the amount of time spent posting finding ways to connect readers with the stories, because many people don't read newspapers as keenly as they once did. This process is even more difficult with fiction.

Now, I'm glad I put that time into yesterday's An Extraordinary Life. I received some great feedback on it yesterday and not just from the man's loved ones.

But this, ultimately, is not where writers find most of their satisfaction. Because praise is fleeting.

Rather, the satisfaction comes from the hours spent in thinking about the structure and then hammering it out letter by letter, and then dismantling all that effort like a kid knocking down a stack of wooden blocks because it's not the castle he pictured, until finally you read something that makes feel good you wrote.

Or, at the very least, makes you relieved you made deadline and are able to go to the next project.

The "Myth" of Writer's Block

I think anyone who engages in creative work has felt that block: we have the time, but the ideas don't flow.

We can call it "writers block" or "painters block" or whatever, but a recent article I read made the point that "bloc" ought not be a thing if writers, even hobbyist writers (of which I am on the fiction side of writing), take their craft seriously.

For instance, the article said, there's no such thing as "nurse's block."

Now I'm certain some nurses have their days when they don't want to go into work. But that's not the same thing as a "block."

Likewise, there's probably no garbage truck driver block, accountant block, informational technology block, firefighter block, etc.

I do get the point of "block." It's hard to be stunningly creative on a whim.

And yet, on my professional end of writing, that's why I get paid.

A bunch of years ago, probably 10 or more, I was stuck in a preview story for the former Waterway Days in Joliet. I had written similar stories over the years and couldn't think of the umpteenth, brilliant way to write it.

I was tired (too many nights of not enough sleep before delivery newspapers in the middle of the night), and I had to leave in 45 minutes to run a small Vacation Bible School 40 miles away.

But I was on deadline. I had no choice but to do it. OK, I guess I did have a choice. I could not make deadline and never write for the publication again. I could not write the story and lose the income I needed to support my family.

Yeah, no.

So, I reviewed my notes for words or phrases that jumped out (or ones I could make jump out). And I wrote that story.

The result wasn't Pulitzer quality, sure. But enjoyable, readable, and "payable."

On my hobby end side of writing, I enjoy the freedom of not writing on deadline. I have time to explore creative ideas, concepts, world-building, and character development without feeling the crunch of the clock.

But that sense of "all the time in the world" is a fallacy.

Because the clock continues to tick away. And so do days, months, and years.

Without any sort of goal or deadline ("I will write that novel this year." I will not stop for dinner until I have a solid outline for chapter eight." Saturday will not slip away until I finish chapter five." "I only have 30 minutes today, but I WILL write the opening scene."), the odds are 2020 will arrive with little writing to show for it.

And BTW, coffee helps. ;)

Illustration by Christopher Gleason for "Staked!" Follow him at artworkbytopher.com.

Goodbye to my Favorite Writer's Blog

Ever since I began writing Bryony in 2007, I've been a semi-faithful reader of Paperback Writer, the blog of one very prolific writer, Sheila Kelly, also known as S. L. Viehl, Lynn Viehl, Gena Hale, Jessica Hal, and Rebecca Kelly (depending on the genre of her project).

Kelly's blog was fairly new at the time, and she casually and humbly shared a little of everything: her writing projects, her hobbies, pieces of her life, and hosted giveaways.

She'd found what many fiction writers rarely find in the commercial industry: a very successful means of income.

And then she stopped, in favor of freelance ghostwriting, which released the pressure and gave her a new-found freedom.

A few weeks ago, I responded to a book marketing post that appeared in Facebook news feed: It started off by saying something to the effect of "Imagine your perfect day as an author. You get up without an alarm clock, mosey to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee, and spend the day writing the stories in your head."

I usually keep scrolling past these things, but I had just come off a very long (and not unusual) Friday, and I added a couple of polite sentences that refuted that vision.

Let me tell you, with few exceptions, anyone who makes money in the publishing industry does not "mosey." The industry is challenging, competitive, and very, very hard work. For anyone who thinks I'm prolific, I'm lazy and laid-back compared to this Kelly's output. The more I learned about her (and I've never read a single one of her many, many books), the more I wondered at and admired her.

For me to write that last book of Before the Blood required squeezing out every last drop of creative work I had in me. I have no idea how writers write creatively for a living. At least with features, I start off with a story pitch and then gain plenty of information in the interviews.

Although it sounds like a wonderful dream to live in your creative mind 24/7, that's all it is, a dream. Nothing is wonderful 24/7, and nothing is more real than taking wisps of ideas and pounding them into life.

This is not to discourage anyone from writing. But it is meant to encourage you past the dry spots, the frustration when words don't easily gush forth (when few people even read them once they do), and to keep in mind the reason why we bother at all: because we must.

Because I believe all creative people have, at their core, an invisible something that urges them to arrange words on paper and splashes of color on canvas.

I'm forever thankful to the people who pushed me forward to still be writing and editing today: starting with my mother recommending me to the outreach person at Barnes and Noble to host a homeschooling workshop, which led to three radio programs, which led to writing guest columns for The Herald-News, which led to freelancing for 15 years-plus, which led to a former Herald-News reporter exhorting me to apply for the role I have today.

It is a privilege to share stories - other people's stories and the stories of the people who spring out of my head.

It is an honor to sit among other very hard writers and editors in a newsroom and learn from their example.

In the very beginning, I admit, I was a little envious of what Kelly had accomplished. The envy is now gone, and I have  glimmer of understanding. She's now carved a very happy writing place in her life (and it sounds like there's even a bit of mosey), and I wish her tremendous success with it.

So naturally, over the last few years, Kelly's post have grown sparse, and so did my popping onto her page. About a week ago, I read this one.

http://pbackwriter.blogspot.com/2018/08/last-post.html#comment-form.

Near the end, she hands her torch to the next generation of writers.

For writers who are reading this: she means you.

For readers who are reading this: we ultimately write for you.

BryonySeries Throwback Thursday: Hunting Down Story Links

Monday, December 22, 2014

Hunting Down Story Links

So I finally spent some time (a couple of hours, to be honest) hunting down story links from the last six weeks, resolving (yeah, right) to "copy and save" each day for Friday's round-up, and wondering why I fail to remember to do so.

Mostly, I believe it's a cross between lack of habit (I try to establish habits for things I wish to accomplish; by rote, for me, is more productive than spontaneity) combined with a touch of distaste for self-promotion. I do like words to speak for themselves, but, sheesh, I could further the process by at least putting the works out there.

Amongst all the posts of vampires, fiction-writing tips, and anything that interests me or pertains to the series, is the work I do each day. Posts on homeschooling have dropped to nearly nothing after my two youngest earned their GED's last November, which left the features writing/editing portion of my day to, if not increase, than to shift focus in my life and receive more of my time.

I am exorbitantly proud of the work I do, not because of a twisted sort of self-inflation type of pride, but because of the humbling awe in talking in-depth to people on a regular basis, hearing their amazing life stories, and then retelling them in a way that lends itself to newspaper publication and a desire by readers to, well, read them.

I also have a passionate attachment to The Herald-News, which I have read from my youth. It's a local newspaper with a strong community chain, from staff to readers, that has made all my jobs through the years connected with it (selling it, writing for it, and delivering it) a joy to perform.

To have passed so many hours and days and weeks and months and years in such a fashion is a blessing that defies defining - and to now have the privilege of making editorial decisions and working with other freelancers as other editors have worked with me - is also a tremendous blessing. When I post story-rounds, I'm sharing the work of other writers, too, something I really need to keep in mind.

This may explain my preference for fiction that borders on literary, well-defined characters that move the plot, rather than novels that require only a few standup paper dolls to keep the pages turning at a rapid rate. I've nothing against genre fiction, as long as characters have substance and shape. It's the integrity of features writing that drives my fiction, with fiction being an extremely minor part of my life.

To combine all of these reasons into a weekly post of story round-ups is, I feel, reasonable. So I really need to get my shit together.

How Do You Know if It's Good?

That was one of many questions a high school job shadower asked me last Friday.

First of all, a little about this student.

Over the past few years, I've had a number of students (and one adult) hang out with me for a few hours while I work, but I've never had one that put the level of thought into the time as she did.

The students typically arrive with several standardized questions they must ask. This girl, however, also compiled her own list, a list so extensive it took two hours to answer them all.

As she asked, I explained and showed portions of my job. Interestingly, every student through the years except one, is also interested in writing and publishing poetry or fiction, so we talk about that, too. And this student was no exception.

She did, however, ask one question that made me pause.

How do you know if it's good?

Good question, a really good question.

What criteria do writers use to determine if a piece of writing is good?

High sales? Perhaps. Although it's true cream often rises to the top, it's also true that bad writing often sells well while good writing languishes.

Awards? I think the previous point also applies.

Lots of readers? A band of loyal readers prepared to fiercely defend the prose?

And yet, how often do we stumble upon a really stellar obscure work and wonder, "Where have you been all my life?"

The writer says so? I mean, we are the gods of our creation (And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good. Genesis 1:31). But are we the best judge of its value?

Publishing contracts? Lots of clicks and shares? Concise sentences that are free of grammar, punctuation, and style errors?

Even at WriteOn Joliet, we'll have a room full of writers who will really like or dislike the way a string of words is assembled with a minority who emphatically disagree.

So in the end, I told her, "Instinct. I think when a writer reads and writes a lot, the write just knows."

What would you have said?

Taking the Long Road

Life is, sometimes, a series of trade-offs.

All of us must decide how we shall spend each twenty-four block God, in His mercy and kindness, graciously gives us.

I've spend the last few weekends with mostly work projects, not working on the novel. And I shall do do again this weekend.

However, these were all projects I was pleased to tackle. And I'm learning a new skill, video editing, in the process. And the only way to accomplish all of the above was to, temporarily, trade off my fiction.

Which means finishing the formatting for Cornell Dyer and the Missing Tombstone takes a back seat until the weekend after this one. Because that will be the first opportunity for returning to it.

That said, today's post is short on purpose so I can spend my thirty minutes on Before the Blood.

Happy Monday, vampire fans! :)