My Journey to Become a Writer 01/28/2024 Post #28

This is my rest day, so I’m gonna sail through the rest of these questions, since I’m doing this early, as my future-sleepy-self. 

Since that leads to very little content, I thought I’d also include a copy of a poem I posted two years ago in honor of my mom.  Her birthday was a few days ago, and it’s the first one she hasn’t been here to celebrate, which seems rather strange. 

This is what I wrote:

Tiny specks of snow dust

In dawn’s first early light

How can just one snowflake

Glow so beautifully bright?


The sun from up above

Shines down on what’s below,

Setting off a fire glint

That makes my heart beat slow


Fallen flakes don’t hurry,

They simply sit real still,

Resting where they’ve landed,

Surrendered to God’s will


Rainbow glints like diamonds

Which put my soul at ease,

That Your love can warm us

Though all around might freeze


God in Heaven fill us

With Your radiant glow

That even in the cold

Your glory we may show


Birds may peck and squabble

And crush a tender flake

Heedless to the damage

Their bustling movement makes


Squirrels may romp and ramble

And trample under foot

Helpless little snowflakes

And where they have been put


Wondering why they’re there

Frail crystals may protest,

“Put me some place safer!”

But our Maker knoweth best


Looking to the Arctic -

Some more conducive place

They might sob, “God, save us -

we perish with no trace!”


It may seem no response

Is given to their cry

As they start to suffer

And then they start to die


The same Light that brightens

Will also melt them down

Like tiny tears of grief

Wept fast upon the ground


Ugly mud will follow

Where white snow once rested

In the in between times

Hearts are sorely tested


But all these things must come

And we must say goodbye

To each tiny snowflake

That captures heart and eye


Forlorn days will follow

Where life seems hard to bear

The bleakness of the weather

Will taint each grieving prayer


And then one day a bulb

Buried beneath the earth

Will show its tiny head

Reminding us of birth


For every mother knows

Who bears a girl or boy

That sorrow has to come

Before there can be joy


So, with all Creation

A pattern is in place

Nothing blooms like a smile

Where tears have once been traced


Frail and melted crystals

Will work with morning beams

Green will soon surround us

Surprising as it seems


And so, we will give thanks

For snow that’s gone away

For what we thought was loss

Brightens each new Spring Day


Hyacinths and tulips,

Knock-out Rose bushes, too

Will bring back tender thoughts,

Reminding me of you


Daffodils shall stand tall,

As Rhododendrons wave,

Hydrangeas nod their heads,

“She’d want you to be brave.”


We may joke of “snowflakes”,

And how they’re not real tough,

But I smile with wonder,

They shine when life is rough


When their beauty’s broken,

Delicate edges marred,

They may want to protest,

“Our lot is far too hard.”


When heat distills us down

And strips all else away,

And seeing what remains

Fills our hearts with dismay


When two parts hydrogen

Cannot come up for air

And one part oxygen

Complains, “Life’s just not fair.”


Absolutely distilled,

Thinking, “I’ve had enough!”

In moments of doubt, we find

We’re made of tougher stuff


Colors will soon spring forth,

Where barrenness once lay

A melody will rise,

As we give thanks and pray


Seasons come and then go,

This one will pass us by

Sunshine gives rest and joy,

And storms may make us cry


When summer comes, please smile,

Pick “rosebuds while ye may”

Don’t long for what you had,

Enjoy the sprinkler’s spray


For God in Heaven knows

Right when to give and take

Just when we’ve reached August,

It’s time to get a rake!


And then some sleepy morn

The ground will be made white.

Upon the evergreen,

Two blue jays will a light


One flake among billions

Will sparkle in the snow,

Capture my attention,

And at that time, I’ll know


Even though I have lost,

The cycle starts anew,

Someone will catch my eye,

Reminding me of you


And how for a season

You sparkled among men,

Better yet, up above

I’ll know you Live again.

Decorative Image
My mom, Beth, with her white curls growing in after chemo – camouflaged in behind her hydrangeas.

It’s been a very cold winter. 

My first without my mommy. 

I never called her that as an adult before all this; but for some reason, I find myself saying that word now. 

I’ve got a scar across my leg from that evergreen tree I mentioned. It got chopped down by the purchasers of my parents’ house, before they’d signed a single paper; but all that’s for another story on another day.

Still, I wonder, where did my mom’s bluebirds go without its protective branches? And what of the hydrangeas, and all the other plants she adored, growing from her little piece of earth, the ones that were dug up and landed in that big red dumpster the first day in forty-eight years for that house belonged to someone else?

And here I am, going back to the story, when i only meant to share my journey to get it to press…

What Did I Accomplish Today to Be a Writer?

Likely response:  Took a day off.

I probably did Day 28  of the 100 Words a Day Writing Challenge 2024 through LA Writer’s Lab.  

What Am I Afraid of Doing Next in My Journey as a Writer?

I’m afraid of not following through on my efforts to write these post – not that I think anybody will notice; but I’ll know.

Stuff I find myself saying:  I just need to close my eyes for a couple of minutes.

How Am I Balancing the Different Aspects of Being a Writer?

I’m balancing my writing-world by making sure I take a break at least one day a week to reset my bearings.

What I’m Doing About Building a Body of Work as a Writer

Letting my tired body rest, so I’ll be ready to start re-inspired, tomorrow, helps me build a body of work as a writer.

What I’m Doing to Complete My Manuscripts as a Writer

I’m gearing up for two writing conferences in February, both of which will offer opportunities to make pitches to agents and focus on writing query letters to send to publishers.

What I’m Doing to Grow My Website as a Writer

I’m letting my site run while I rest. I’m aggressive all week – then go passive for at least a day.

What I’m Doing to Build My Blog as a Writer

I’m letting this journal entry post automatically, since I wrote it ahead of time and had it pre-scheduled. Planning a head helps my head.

Not so Fun Fact About Me:  I’m not a good listener.  I get distracted easily.

What I’m Doing About Networking as a Writer

I’m not working on networking today.

What I’m Doing About Monetization as a Writer

Nothing is happening for me in the realm of monetization for now; but I’ve got some plans for next month (they are way too tentative to tell them yet).

What I’m Doing About Social Media as a Writer

Trying to get used to social media is not something that comes easily for me. It doesn’t seem to be my medium, at least not like plain old typing is.

What I’m Doing About Artificial Intelligence (AI) as a Writer

I don’t know.  Shall I ask Chat GPT?  I’d rather not.

What I’m Doing to Stay Organized as a Writer

I’m letting my brain shut down and restart for the day, so it’s not so scrambled.

Looking Back at My Writing Journey

I’m hoping to look at my writing journey through the back of my eyelids, while I take a nap.

Any Other Thoughts on Becoming a Writer, Random Rants, Tales, or Trials…

Everybody needs a day off every now and again.  I’m grateful for a day to get refreshed.

Thanks for reading what I’m writing,

Jody Susan

To read more of the story behind my poem, please click the story about Borrow Ponds below:

Jody

I'm not sure what to say here: I once got second place in a dog-look-alike-contest? I know how to fold a fitted sheet? I'm pretty much a poster child for social backwardness - at least as far as social media is concerned; but I have some stories I think I'm supposed to share and am attempting to do that here, in this space.

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