Updated Draft
Topic: Start of Another Draft
When you see Mike and Austin together, you just have to smile. They are so different. Mike is tall, dark-haired, lanky and quiet. Mike wears glasses. Last time I looked, though, he was not sporting a pocket protector. He does have a heart of gold, though. Austin is short, blond-haired, outgoing, and independent. Of course, Austin is only five years old so he has an excuse for being short. Just like salt and pepper, when you find one, you expect to find the other. I feel privileged to have Salt and Pepper as my neighbors.

Our building has four apartments, two on each floor. Mike and Austin have the other apartment on the first floor. The apartments are long with a hallway that runs the full length from the living room to the dining room. Kids love this hallway, it is their runway. I take pleasure in hearing Austin come home from day care. He tears down that hallway as if he’s impatient to see everything he missed during the day. I hear him through the walls and say “Austn’s home!” I don’t see my neighbors often, but will always gravitate to my back door if I hear a child’s voice on the porch. I’m considering calling Austin my little leprechaun since he was born March 17. Maybe he’ll lead me to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Austin joined our neighborhood almost three years ago. When his mother died unexpectedly, his uncle, Mike, took him in. Austin’s father was in prison for crimes against Austin that are too horrible to recount. Mike became his world. It was obvious the feeling was mutual. From the very beginning of this newfound relationship, Mike decided to adopt his nephew. In March of this year, he succeeded in his quest.

Since I don’t have children of my own, I rather “adopted” Austin. Every time I got a toy in a box of cereal, or with the purchase of another product, I put it aside for him. At Christmas, I would buy him some coloring books and crayons. They were always little things, but to Austin, they meant something. Now, though, when he sees me he wants to know if I have any presents for him. I think we need to break the cycle just a bit.

Mike got sick a few months back. When his car didn’t move for several days, I finally knocked on his door to see what was going on. After several weeks of illness, he was diagnosed with mono. Since he was very weak, Austin was spending some time with other family members out of town. He and Mike spoke daily on the telephone; but it was the first time they had been apart in two years. It was hard on both of them. Such is the trial of single parenting. Fortunately, Austin seems to be quite hardy. Aside from the scar that was a souvenir from his father, he’s quite a healthy little boy.

Twenty Minute Test
I read an article yesterday that made so much sense. We've talked previously about setting aside a specific time each day to write. This goes one step better. Say you really are not in the mood to write today, take the twenty minute test. After twenty minutes, if you're still of the same mindset, quit. Otherwise, you've written for twenty minutes and you might as well keep going.

I thought this was great! Twenty minutes isn't so long that you feel you're wasting precious time. Twenty minutes is only a small slice of your day. The idea, though, is that once you actually start doing it, you'll do more. That way, too, on those days where you really aren't in the mood and quit after 20 minutes, there's no need to feel guilt.

I don't know how many of us really feel guilt for not writing, but still. Give it 20 and if it doesn't work, you've still done something. There's also the idea that if we do things in smaller pieces, we have more chances of feeling a sense of accomplishment. Some days, the accomplishment will be to last the 20 minutes.

Next time you're not in the mood to do something, take the twenty minute test. You might surprise yourself. This could work for anything including exercising...

Rambling On
Topic: Rambling On
Things are not always as they seem. Let’s hope this is true because they seem pretty dreary. I guess since spring is here, other avenues seem more attractive. There is more daylight, more sunshine, and maybe even more happiness. Yet the world is still full of the same unhappy people that lived yesterday. Have you ever wondered why unhappy people try to make everyone else feel the same way? This is something that bothers me.

While I, personally, might not be a happy person, I am more or less content. I know that contentment is not I word I want to use about myself for long. I would not be where I am today if I were merely content. Maybe it would be better to say that I am content but not complacent. At this point, these are mere words and don’t mean anything other than what I attribute to them.

Isn’t that the whole point of this blog? To find meaning in our words. To make our words have meaning.

Exactly, and there are unlimited way to do this. Poetry is a more immediate form of writing. We want our readers to see and feel what we are writing about. Okay, so I got another crummy review. I seriously don’t think my reader even tried to understand what I was writing about. Because he didn’t get it, though, I was told that I didn’t think it through. I think he got that backwards.

I have no idea what the point of this post is. It may simply be a chance to hear myself think. It may be simply to not break my habit. It quite possibly is an attempt to stir up some inspiration. Get down anything that wants to work. There may be an idea hidden somewhere in the garbage. It is time to inspect our own trash.

There Comes A Time
Topic: There Comes A Time
There comes a time when you have to start wondering whether any of the things you do make a difference. This post makes 60 days since I started the blog. There's one additional post for the counter. For the month of April, National Poetry Month, I posted an entry a day from this blog. The responses were disappointing to say the least. I did, at least, get more comments at MoontownCafe than I do here, but still. The number of reads averaged around a dozen. One day, I barely had four reads.

I keep trying to convince myself that I'm doing this for myself. Some day, little tidbits from these entries will all come together to create one hell of an article. Maybe I'll actually have more than one. I have two semi-articles already started plus the ones from Wired Poet. These incomplete projects will re-surface and get done. Same with the short stories I started a couple of years ago...lol

Who am I kidding? Today I will convince myself that I do this simply to see myself in print. The page looks nice and it looks like I'm doing something constructive. Maybe it is simply wasted space. I deserve the space, thank you very much.

Chicken Soup deserves a break today. I did, however, ask Mike how old he was. He is so young at 26, and now he has a 5 year old son. Amazing

Choices
Topic: Choices
For the past couple of days, I've been struggling with choices. I know exactly what I want to do and I know the story well. Two days ago, I captured the facts. The facts are very dry. Yesterday, I took a stab at the beginnings of a story. The angle I chose was still very factual.

I am not a stranger to story writing. I have written a few. At times like this, I wish I had a few more under my belt; but, I know I can do this. It is only a matter of finding the correct approach, the right tone, and getting to it. I may be on the right track now.

There are so many different ways to write the same story. I've been trying to follow some on of own advice as well. I'm writing what I know. I went with the flow in getting the facts down on paper. I put the not-so-good work aside to come back to it. And I keep coming back. I have the drive and determination to write this story and have it accepted.

If nothing else, I will have the satisfaction of writing a story that is well worth telling. That can be enough. I will keep you posted on my progress.

---

When you see Mike and Austin together, you just have to smile. They are so different. Mike is tall, dark-haired, lanky and quiet. Mike wears glasses. Last time I looked, though, he was not sporting a pocket protector. He does have a heart of gold, though. Austin is short, blond-haired, outgoing, and independent. Of course, Austin is only five years old so he has an excuse for being short. Just like salt and pepper, when you find one, you expect to find the other. I feel privileged to have Salt and Pepper as my neighbors.

Our building has four apartments, two on each floor. Mike and Austin have the other apartment on the first floor. The apartments are long with a hallway that runs the full length from the living room to the dining room. Kids love this hallway, it is their runway. I take pleasure in hearing Austin come home from day care. He tears down that hallway as if he?s impatient to see everything he missed during the day. I hear him through the walls and have to smile. I don?t see my neighbors often, but will always gravitate to my back door if I hear a child?s voice on the porch. I?m considering calling Austin my little leprechaun since he was born March 17. Maybe he?ll lead me to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Austin joined our neighborhood almost three years ago. When his mother died unexpectedly, his uncle, Mike, took him in. Austin?s father was in prison for crimes against Austin that are too horrible to recount. Mike became his world. It was obvious the feeling was mutual. From the very beginning of this newfound relationship, Mike decided to adopt his nephew. In March of this year, he succeeded in his quest.

Start of Another Draft
Topic: Start of Another Draft
Single parenting has to be a hardship under normal circumstances. It is becoming more and more common as well. People are even choosing to become single parents. This brings up issues dealing with daycare while the parent is at work, babysitting for social engagements, and healthcare considerations to name a few. The complication of children in the single’s market is no picnic. Many individuals simply don’t want ready-made families. The family is being re-defined.

The state of single parenting often is unexpected. The parents divorce, a parent dies, or an unplanned pregnancy complicates issues. There are many reasons for the rise in single parenting. Today, I’d like to tell you the story of a single parent. Many of us have god parents and we don’t think much about them. We pray that our own parents will live long and healthy lives and that we won’t need our god parents.

My neighbor, Mike was made god father to his nephew, Austin. When his sister died unexpectedly, Austin came to live with him. Austin’s father was not available and would not be a suitable father. Mike found himself with all the responsibilities of a single parent overnight. Most times, there is something of a conversion from a two-parent family to a one-parent family. Or, there is a pregnancy that hones in on the fact that things are going to change. In this case, Mike had an instant child. He didn’t have the pregnancy and birth to prepare him. Seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day, Mike had a child in his care.

Very Rough Draft
Topic: Very Rough Draft
One of my goals is to get something published in Chicken Soup. They pay for stories. One of their possible titles is Chicken Soup for the Adopted Soul. I thought I might try to do Mike and Austin's story. I jotted it down today, but it needs lots of work. If you have any suggestions, please make them.

---

I suppose Mike?s life was relatively normal for someone his age. He had a decent job and was taking classes when he could. He had a place to live and still saw his family as often as possible. He had a roommate, but could come and go as he pleased.

Things changed overnight for Mike. When his sister died suddenly, he was the godfather to her child. Austin was only two when his mom died. She had her wisdom teeth out during the afternoon. Several hours later, she died of cardiac complications. She had an undiagnosed heart condition that surfaced with the dental work. Since Austin?s father was not around, Mike stepped up to his responsibilities.

Starting in October, 2002, Mike and Austin became an inseparable pair. From the very beginning, Mike pursued the adoption of Austin. It was what his sister would have wanted. It was what Mike wanted. Austin thrived under Mike?s care. Austin would attend day care while Mike worked. Weekends seemed to be spent visiting various family members.

The adoption process becomes costly and lengthy. One would think the process would be easier for those adopting members of their own family. The adoption was to be finalized December, 2004. December became January and finally a hearing was scheduled. This hearing was accompanied by a surprise.

Austin?s father put in an appearance for the first time. He expressed an interest in his child. The father had been receiving notification of proceedings all along and never responded or sent a representative to speak for him. It was a very stressful day to say the least.

It seems the reason Dad never showed at any of the hearings was that he was incarcerated. When Austin was 22 months old, his father drop-kicked the child and caused severe injury. He was sentenced to four years in April of 2002. We are unsure how he was released after less than half of his sentence was served, but there he was. The court set a new hearing date for March 8, 2004. At this time, they would determine whether Dad would have any rights for visitation or custody.

There was always the possibility the court would rule in favor of the natural parent and grant custody to the father even if he almost killed the child. As far as everyone was concerned, the court should never have granted the request of the father. Fortunately, when the new hearing date came about, he didn?t show up. Instead, the court rescheduled the final adoption hearing right there and then and granted Mike full custody.

As unexpectedly as this whole ordeal started, it was over. Mike went from being an uncle to being a father in a matter of minutes. Austin is five years old now. The majority of his young life as been spent living with Mike. I doubt he remembers much of his mom. His dad always lived far, far away. When someone asked Austin where his father was, he would respond, ?Oh, Mike?s at work.?

I have no doubt there will be complications in this relationship. Mike is legally Austin?s father now but will accept any address Austin is comfortable with. Mike is still young and might be interested in marriage and a family some day. With Austin already part of his life, this might be a bit more complicated. Neither Mike nor Austin would have it any other way.

I?m reminded of Mutt and Jeff when I see the two of them together. Just yesterday, Mike picked up a bookcase from the curb and Austin insisted on helping him carry it home. They are the most unlikely pair, yet they complement each other.

To Preserve or Destroy
Topic: Preserve or Destroy
I just read a news story about Tibetan monks who spent a week creating a sand panting only to destroy it. The destruction symbolizes impermanence of material things, even those things of beauty. They simply sweep up all their hard work. The sand is given away or added back to nature. This last sand painting was absolutely gorgeous!

Words are probably the easiest to destroy. We can simply push a button to delete a word or an entire document. Thankfully, not all of us feel as the Tibetan monk’s do. Preservation seems to be the order of the day. When we write, there is usually a reason behind it. Even if the reason loses its meaning over time, the writing meant something to us. We preserve that piece of time.

We can often look back at our work and know what was going on at the time it was written. Our works, to us, are something of a diary of our days. Since some writing is said to be cathartic, even darker writes are preserved. Those darker days are still a part of us and the writing documents that fact.

To destroy our words is to destroy part of us. Just like a snapshot that captures a specific moment, our words capture a specific mood or time period. Of course, the author may be the only person to know the true significance of the words, but significant they are. Let’s say, for example, that we’ve written a very upbeat piece. We may know that this upbeat piece is uncharacteristic since we suffer from depression. Our readers might not know this.

Material things quite probably shouldn’t have as much meaning as they do, but art comes from deep within each person. I can’t see the justification of destroying it.

When All Else Fails...
Topic: When All Else Fails...
…read the instructions. No really, some days no matter how much you want to or how hard you try, your efforts are in vain. We just can’t get inspired. Pictures don’t work, examples provided by others don’t spark the imagination, and we just can’t get going. It happens. Unfortunately, there is no one instruction book for inspiration or writing.

Even if our words sometimes come out kicking and screaming, this is not how we want to behave when they simply won’t come. We want to be more productive. There’s no sense in beating yourself up over finding yourself in the dumps. Maybe it is time to do something for yourself. Take a walk. Put on your favorite album (do people still have record players?).

If nothing begs to be written, maybe it would be a good time to review what we want to accomplish. Dig out your “to do” list. Have you done anything on the list? Have you found any new goals to add to the list? We all know how slow editors can be when we submit work, maybe we can update our list to show that we’ve gone three weeks without a rejection. That could be a milestone!

Pull out some of your non-successes and read them over. Can you see anything today that you would do differently? Jot down the ideas. Since we’re not actually writing today, making notes of what we see or of research we want to do could help when we are again ready to work. Pull out some crossword puzzles. Are there some clues or words that just get us going? Make a note of them.

Maybe there’s a movie you’ve been dying to see. Now would be a good time to watch it. Make up some popcorn or other snacks and just vegetate in front of the television. Why not? We’re writers not barbarians! Sometimes we just need to do things for ourselves. Be selfish; I give you my permission. Obviously, today is one of my non-inspiring days. I think its time to go for a stationary bike ride.

Have a good day, all!

To Workshop or Not
Topic: Workshop or Not
Okay, so you’ve decided to send your poem through the workshop. There are several things you need to know about workshops. There is also one thing you need to remember.

The poem belongs to you!

Workshops are designed as a learning tool for writers. It offers an in-depth look from different perspectives on what you have written. It is the job of the workshop instructors to point out your strengths and weaknesses and to offer suggestions. It is your job to filter through this information to determine what is usable to you.

The poem belongs to you!

You, as a workshop participant, have a voice. That voice can say no! The poem belongs to you. If a suggestion or a comment is sending your piece into a different direction than you intended, say so. We can only help you if we understand the intent of what you have written.
The poem belongs to you!

Workshop instructors are not there to do the work for you. Take all suggestions with a grain of salt and, if worthy, use your own voice to give them life. It is not necessary to use every suggestion. We know, or hope, that you have put a lot of time and effort into your poem. You have stamped it with your identity. We only want to help to enhance that identity.

The poem belongs to you!