mary june brown

What are regrets?

Distilled energy, or fantasy

Thoughts gone sideways

Memories suffused with romanticism

Recollections of a past

Combed clean of nuisances, irritations

Practical problems

Larger, better, forever

Musings of yesterday push

Hope, a picture of tomorrow

Happily ever after

—Very interesting—

The cusp draws footsteps, hands reaching out ahead to feel the open air where all below is unknown. Here, on the rock face, time stops its sweeping and fire replaces stagnant air. Here, anxiety and anticipation become indiscernible; they face each other in mighty battle.

It is only one mere step—that drop below—and the urge to retreat radiates an influence that is not to be dismissed. “Dive! Dive,” a voice calls up, and with closed eyes, I—

Wait, what?  

Silly, I don’t give away these things so easily. Not in a blog, anyway.

Okay now, cats.

What’s the word, what’s up, what doing? What’s news, Wall Street? Gas prices up, no commute partner; heat on the rise, and no A/C. Fair’s gone, carnival leerers have packed up and are on their way to another Great American Community. Kids and dads put their hands back into empty pockets and think of their gains: stuffed teddy bears (5 inches big, polyester, made in China…throw $50 worth of plastic balls into the clown’s mouth and WIN!). It’s summer. Not much to report.

Blogroll, please.

This morning, between a bout of tantrums and refereeing, and hearing myself screech, “I said get your shoes on! I’m counting to three now!”–I had a powerful memory of my younger, single, childless days.

I  remembered the sweet simplicity of lolling in bed, of watching the news without any demand on me to get up and get the kids moving…I remembered what it was to jump into my car and drive to the nearby coffee place for a cup…I remembered the freedom FREEDOM of my life, the way it was.

Except it wasn’t. It does a soul good to remember that sometimes, the good old days never really were. Yes, there was spontaneity and there were casual moments sitting in a cafe and reading…but there was stress, and loneliness, and frustration, and monotony. So as the New Year approaches, let us all be thankful for the present moments in our lives…they are precious indeed.

So, I’m gearing up for NaNoWriMo, are you?

National Novel Writing Month: www.nanowrimo.org

I figure I can get the skeleton book done in November. The rest of the year, and a good chunk of 2008 will be taken up filling in those bones.

Join me?

Dear readers,

Yep, I’m still around. It’s been a while, and for that, I apologize. I’ve been busy writing, working on my novel, and submitting poetry.

A recent poem has been accepted at Farmhouse Magazine, so I’m excited about that and can’t wait to share it with you once it’s been published.

In the meantime, please take a look at my other website: http://wordglow.com. There, you’ll see that I’m busy working in a professional capacity, writing and editing for others. It’s a joy to be able to work with other writers and to share with them.

Keep writing!

Here’s one of my newer stories, recently published in The Rose & Thorn.  Enjoy:

http://www.theroseandthornezine.com/ 

I’d stopped writing my novel for a couple of months–it wasn’t going anywhere. yes, There were words on a page, but I’d lost my enthusiasm for it, which I’m (unfortunately) apt to do.

However, a strange thing happened. It came back to me. Came roaring back, asked me if I missed it, seduced me back into it’s web. So here I go again. Again. Again.

One of these days, I swear, I’m going to finish the thing.

What does a writer do with that story–the one that comes from the heart, that took everything you had, that you are in love with…the story that you are immeasurably proud of…but just can’t place in any market, no matter how many times it’s submitted?

We’ve all got one. A piece that we worked on, rewrote, edited, poured ourselves into; a piece we are moved by more and more with each rereading. It’s a bummer of magnificent proportions that nobody else seems to see it’s brilliance.

I’ve written many stories, some great and some not so–and I’ve seen several make their way into print (thank you, publishing powers-that-be!). But there’s this one that sits on my hard drive, languishing. It’s one of my personal faves, and yet–”not for us…good luck placing it elsewhere…”

So, there it sits, waiting for an audience, and I scour duotrope every couple months, looking for its home. Poor wayward, homeless (but brilliant!) little thing.

I was listening to the news today, and in it, there was an update on that certain blonde heiress and her stint in jail.  You know who I mean, right?  If not, stop reading now–this post’ll bore you.

Okay, still with me?

See, the thing I was thinking when I heard this update was, “who needs to know what her current status is…in jail, no less?”–it goes to show how the news media conditions the news, makes a story where there isn’t one, indeed, makes us care about things we’d never imagine smart, sensible people (like you and me) would pay attention to.

It’s saturated, this kind of material media coverage, our lives.  People may say, “well, turn the channel; tune out.”  But I live here, in this culture, and I cannot get away from it.

Worse, in the middle of the Heiress Day 5 in Jail Update, I find myself leaning forward, interested, at attention.