by Geralyn Ruane
I’m going home!!! In October!!!! Mmmruh!
There is nothing like autumn in Pennsylvania. The smoky smell of the air. The cold damp of the days. Orange and yellow and red – everywhere! The scraping of leaves skidding along the street. Snuggling into sweaters that have been packed away all summer. Raking the yard into crunchy piles, again and again. Apples falling off the tree. Football games on Friday nights. Getting dark at five o’clock. The pungent glow of the kerosene heater. Mmmruh!
Autumn back home sparks my imagination, soaks me with a sense of longing . . . just like it did back when I lived there . . . mmmruh. I was a kid growing up in a small town on the side of a mountain in Pennsylvania – I wanted to be anywhere else. Clueless as I was, though, I still slipped under autumn’s spell. That sense of . . . incandescence – boundlessness – the feeling bubbling down deep and sparkling up to my skin that something wonderful is on its way! Maybe the scoundrel who sits in front of me in chemistry secretly likes me back, even though I’m not size two a cheerleader. Maybe I’ll win the diva part in the play. Maybe we’ll get another dog. Maybe my parents’ll buy new living room furniture, like the kind they give away on The Price Is Right! Maybe . . . oh, just, maybe something . . . anything! Mmmruh! Autumn back home just always had me on the edge, leaning over the brink, looking out for . . . something!
And the good news is, I’m still looking. There’s still so much out there. I want so much out of life – a house, a book contract, a TV show as good as Veronica Mars, Season One. The scent of autumn reminds me that it’s all still out there, holding back, waiting for me to give chase. Mmmruh!
But you know what? Fall, especially fall back home, reminds me of something else, too. Something that is all too easy to forget when I’m trapped in a cloud of smog as I race around trying to keep up with myself. In the fall, I remember my teenage dreams, and I realize that some of those dreams have come true. I have cats and a dog all my very own. And a helluva guy who loves me for the me-ness of me even though I’m not a size two cheerleader. Mmmruh! I hardly ever have to get up early. Plus, I buy my own clothes now, so I like what I’m wearing almost every single day. Mmmruh! I really like all my friends, and I’m pretty sure they like me, too, since they are, after all, patient enough to explain football to me and field my questions during a game, and not just cuz we ended up in the same clique and now can’t get out ‘til graduation. Mmmruh! I don’t live with my parents anymore so I can have sex in my own bed as much as I want. Mmmruh!
But you know what’s the best thing about moving away? I can always go back home. Mmmruh!
Geralyn Ruane’s favorite Hardy Boy is whichever one Parker Stevenson played, and these days she writes romance, chick lit and women’s fiction. Last year her short story “Jane Austen Meets the New York Giants†was published in the New York Times Bestselling anthology The Right Words at the Right Time Volume 2.
FINDING THE JOY AGAIN
By Kitty Bucholtz
Like you, I have a laundry list of things that keep me from writing, and another list of really good reasons why I should and shouldn’t feel guilty. But lately, I’ve been finding that writing isn’t what it used to be for me. I’ve lost the joy.
For the last two years, my husband John and I have been living a bit topsy-turvy. He took a 3-month job in Australia that got extended a month at a time for a year. Because we thought we’d be there for only a few months, we rented a studio apartment. Then we moved back to the States where a new job had us living in a hotel for two weeks while I found an apartment in yet another town. Thinking that job would only last a few months, we again rented a studio apartment. That job is over and now we’re packing up again – but don’t exactly know where we’re going yet. (I’ll tell you one thing, it won’t be to another single-room apartment!)
It’s been fun and exciting…and not a little stressful. Add to that the fact that I have an agent patiently waiting for me to deliver the goods, and I’ve worked myself into a frenzy of high expectations never met.
So I took a moment last week and perused the 808 section of the library. (If you’re not familiar, the 808 section is where all the writing books are!) When I spied Take Joy by Jane Yolen, a flicker of hope sprang to life in my chest. I sat down with that and Sometimes the Magic Works by Terry Brooks and began to laugh out loud at their anecdotes. These writers reminded me again of the joy in creating something silly or scary or adorably romantic.
I’ve made a couple of changes in my writing life already, even though I’m still reading both books. One is really helping my creativity and joy, but is so ridiculous and embarrassing I’m not going to tell! 🙂 The other is to take a deep breath and relax and start writing for the joy of it – not for my agent or for a check or for the sense of accomplishment. Just for the joy.
So…last week I chose to enjoy the process of putting on a huge bash for John’s 40th birthday party without feeling guilty or resentful for the loss of writing time. Today, I choose to spend the day enjoying John’s birthday gift from me – one day on a huge rented Harley Davidson motorcycle (woo-hoo!). And I choose to spend tomorrow wrapped in the soft, ticklish joy of writing. Maybe I’ll even find the unexpected treat of a new story twist…but I’m not going to force it. I’m just going to enjoy it. It’ll be worth it.
Kitty Bucholtz writes romantic comedies because, well, she lives one! She wrote her first book in the NBC cafeteria, the second snowed in at a Reno hotel, and the third from a tiny apartment in Sydney. Even though she loves talking about, writing about, and teaching about writing, she’s pretty sure she knows at least three people who aren’t writers.
Congratulations Jueligh!!! Please let us know how your event works out. Now a message from Jueligh…
Thanks for mailing the shirt so quickly. I’ll let you know when it arrives and will be sure to leave positive feedback when it does. It will be a fun addition to my personal book collection. I have some lovely signed first editions by one of the authors and books by three or four others on the shelves at home. A signed tee-shirt by so many wonderful authors will definitely be a talking point! Looking at the list of authors I confess to only having read books just under a dozen or so of those listed. I work for a large metropolitan library district so thankfully I recognize most of the authors. I’m now going to set about to read at least one book by each of the authors who have signed the shirt. I’m also going see about using the shirt at work as part of a display over the coming summer months and challenge our patrons to do the same, to read at least one book by each author on the shirt. It could make for a nice summer adult reading challenge and a great way to introduce alot of patrons to authors they may not have otherwise considered reading!
Thank you so much for such a unique auction.
Kind regards,
Juleigh
Hello authors, this is The Reader. So, what have you written for me
this month? Let me tell you a secret. There is a reader out there,
probably me, who is waiting for your next book. Maybe I can’t
remember youf name, I can’t ask for you, but when I see it…yeah. And
I’m looking for a book to scratch that itch that I just can’t reach
with any other book. The one that says it just a little bit different.
Sometimes, I think I’m forgotten. Oh, I know authors are out there
trawling the internet for me. But frankly that makes me feel like a
shrimp. I don’t mean to dis you, or the whole idea of advertising and
reaching out and so on. I just like the idea that someone is writing
just for me. Me. Lonely. Tired. Wanting to know what it feels like to
be beautiful, desired. Today, experiencing a win, a thrill after the
cat threw up all over the new carpet, and I lost the file at work and
missed a deadline. You know – just make me feel good.
Do you ever think about me?
Last night, the full moon slid over the horizon, painted pink and mauve by the setting sun at the other end of our world. Swiftly, the moon thrust itself into the sky, impatient to shed light across the high plains. As the sun slid out of sight to the west, briefly limning the Sandias with orange and gold, the moon lit our world well enough to see without outside lights. Not many stars can stand against the brilliance but it’s worth missing a few constellations to bask in the silvery light.
We moved from California to New Mexico in the full moon. This was a bonus since a drive which should have taken thirteen hours actually took twenty four and we needed every advantage we could find. Three vehicles containing most of our lives friend crept up the long private road and into the driveway at the top of the hill. We didn’t need headlights to see the large fenced yard, waiting for our Salukis to get out and stretch their legs. We split the dogs among the three of us: my husband, myself, and our dearest friend, who had put her own life on hold to help us move, and walked them around the yard.
Most of our dogs had seen wide open fields in California but never had they lived where nothing blocked their vision for miles. It wasn’t as bright as midday in spite of what might happen on the night before Christmas but it was bright enough to see the closest neighbor’s house plus a few lights out in the distance for those who felt the need for a night light. Not many do in this part of the world.
Since that time, full moon nights mean just a bit more to us. We’ve been here a year and have put our personal stamp on the property. Even so, we wonder if we’re going to wake abruptly from a dream. Full moons remind us of the drive, of first stepping into this house as owners, walking through echoing rooms to peer out windows at the quiet night landscape.
When I have to travel away from here, I make a point to go outside at night, to see the stars and the moon from a different part of the earth. If indeed I can see anything but ambient light or cloud cover. Once while in New Zealand I looked up to total disorientation. The stars are in the wrong place in the sky when you’re at the other end of the world.
If you’ve never experienced a full moon out in the desert you need to do so at least once. The most pragmatic among us would be ready to believe in pretty much anything under this light.
Monica K Stoner
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So far as the Duke of Wolveton is concerned, Charlotte Longborough is a scandal waiting to happen.
More info →Winner of the 2010 Next Generation Indie Book Awards for Best Short Fiction and Best Anthology
More info →A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
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