Fat Lil’ memory Notebook

Lots of time on buses and what not running errands and dealing with Dr’s shit and, forgetting my Kindle in my friends car meant some quality time with the ole Fat Lil’ Notebook today. I bought it a few months ago for on the fly notes and what not as it’s essentially only a little bit bigger than two Post-Its (5 1/2 x 3 1/2).  You see, I have a little bit of a Post-It fixation as previous co-workers can attest to… but that’s for another entry.

On occasion I will flip back towards previous entries. Today was one of them as I realized my book was beginning to get a bit thin.  There’s only about 20 or so pages empty left in it and so, another is likely needed in the pretty super near future.

This notebook says so much it’s a bit crazy. There’s notes on an abundance of things from the everyday directions list to meetings to.. little snippets and memories of things from when I first found out I might be pregnant.  Reading the entries brings about thoughts that, although fragmented, show just how much brevity can still weave a story.  Reading this I’m able to watch the excitement and happiness I felt initially to…my latest entry which is, suffice to say, not.

I’m curious how much one could assess about my mind and it’s inner workings from seeing these little notes and blurbs. About the other notebooks that have been lost in moves. Who knows what happened to those old pages? Perhaps they never saw anyone else’s eyes before they were tossed into a trash. Perhaps they weren’t. Perhaps it’s for the best either way.

These pages are evidence of a life lived. They are a reminder of why I ALWAYS will have a notebook and a pen on me… and why that hasn’t changed for as long as I can [not always] remember.

These pages are why I know that I know that what I am before anything, first and foremost, is, and ever shall be: a writer.  Till death do I part.  And that ain’t bad even when it is bad.

Halts and time outs

I’m in the midst of yet another major time out.  It’s spring cleaning and with it comes… well the evaluation process of what’s working, what needs to go and what’s actually important.

I’ve noticed over time I seem to have strayed from my journalistic roots.  Once upon a time, I was a game journalist.  In high school, for our school newspaper, I covered everything under the sun, with primary focus in features articles.  I loved it.  It challenged me.

The blogging I initially started here was more for personal reflection.  In some ways it was a collection of all of my thoughts- both fluid and real time that I wanted to release and share.  It was part of the collection for the book I’m writing about my journey through an abusive marriage and divorce.   Later it grew to my path towards getting on my feet, falling on my face, learning to find the strength to get back up again and do it all over.

It was very personal.  It was harsh and real.  It was also a double edged sword.  Ultimately I came to some very important conclusions from it.

Friday was very significant to me.  In many ways, I realized just how much I really wanted to be more careful and greedy about what I sent out into the digital space.  I took a time out.  A very much needed time out.

“There are some things that are meant to be legendary.” he said.

Simple, yet profound,  it was a piece of commentary in a silly private conversation that resonated so strongly… reminder of things I already know but tend to forget.  The easiest and hardest things seem to be that way.

I shared bits and pieces about the events that transpired on my weekend with close friends, but left few digital footprints about it.  It was legendary and however selfish it may have been to keep them private, the moments were my own and the world doesn’t need them unless I chose to share them with them.

People know far too much about my love affairs.  And although I’m forever thankful and happy to tell tales of my brushes with romance and heartache, perhaps part of the problem is that I am sharing these and not writing about it the way that it should be.

I’m taking to account the comments made from my peers: a cast of characters embued into the story, my readers, and the potential readership.  It comes with a price.  I’m weighing in.

I think it’s time you know more about the paths to the stories.  I need to dedicate more time into writing my novels, my screenplays, my childrens books, and, in this realm, my journalistic roots.  I’ve been doing it the way I wanted to for some time, and for those of you that have followed me through this journey, I appreciate you emphatically.  It’s time to put a halt on the bullshit.

I’m sick of being crucified for putting myself so out in the open to be crucified.  The relationships I have become compromised.  Despite my relatively off radar lifestyle, the blips that I do share get run away with.  While I encourage your imagination, there needs to be more left to your imagination.

I think in the end, the format really needs to be more evident of how I’ve changed.  People haven’t taken me as seriously as I’d have liked them to because I show them too much.  If people want to know my personal stories, they’re going to have to get to know me personally or read about it in one of my novels.    Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?  I’ve been selling myself short here.

Ironically it’s the ease of connectivity and accessibility that is really taking a toll.  I want more emphasis on building ways to effectively communicate ideas, passions, goals, desires in a cohesive fashion that isn’t so much “Look at me.”  How about you start inwardly and stop giving a crap about if people are watching what you do or not.

Life is about the journey, not about the destination.  Share your stories with the people you hold dear.  Stop being so accessible to strangers.  If you’re going to put yourself out there, be careful what you write.  On the digital scape, there is no undo.

Reformat.

There are some things that are meant to be legendary.

The best advice I was given in such a long time…