Monday Rants

It's been a long, long time since I've had a truly textbook case of the Mondays. But today topped the list.

I had an appointment for my car at 8am. I get up and am out by 730, because the construction on a local road tends to add an extra fifteen minutes to my commute. Even though the dealer is about ten minutes away.
So I sit in the construction zone for 25 minutes, and then drive down the road to find it completely and totally flooded. There is a car in the middle, only visible by its roof.

(Side note: this is the first time going to this dealer. My old dealer closed down without notification, thereby rendering my coupon book that I purchased with the car useless. So now I have to mail in the coupons myself and wait for reimbursement. Even though I've already paid for two years worth of oil changes!)

So, I finally get to the dealer by some miracle, because I had no clue where I was once the detour was complete. That was the silver lining of the day. I check in and about an hour later the mechanic comes back and informs me of a recall on the power steering for my car. They of course don't have the parts on hand, so I'll have to bring it back. He also informs me that the front two tires are worn down nearly all the way.

After waiting for THREE HOURS, my car passes inspection, gets its oil changed, and I am on my merry way. Except, the road is still underwater, and I have no idea how to get home. It took me thirty minutes.

Now I am cranky, which renders schoolwork nearly impossible. I then attempt to sign up for my discount on my cell phone bill, since I found out last week that the company I work for and Verizon have a little deal going. Of course, the online registration won't work. I go onto Verizon's live chat. He tells me I have to do it online and it won't be able to be completed in a store. So, I call customer service to try and have them walk me through it. But the guy sounds like he's 300,000 miles away and I can barely hear him. He had absolutely no idea what I was trying to tell him and told me to go to a store to get it worked out. I'll go tomorrow, and chances are they'll tell me no. And I'll scream.



Whew, break time.


On a positive note, I spoke with a former professor who gave me awesome information about writers' workshops and conference things coming up in the summertime. I'm hoping to wrangle someone to go to one or two with me - they sound like a great place to learn and network.

Overall, this was not a great start to my spring break. Here's hoping tomorrow yields better results!

Poetry post!

Hokay, so. Awhile ago, I wrote a poem. I've never written a poem before. So, I thought I'd post.
It's loosely based on a sestina, which uses the same six words to close the line, in rotating sequences. And by loosely, I mean I tried to follow the format, but mixed it up somewhere and didn't want to fix it. So here you have it.


A Solitary Flag

He stood in his uniform, the soldier;
She stood in faded jeans, the daughter.
He was leaving, “to fight for your freedom,”
He said, and they moved close to share a hug.
She wept as they embraced. He, too, shed tears.
In the distance flew a solitary flag.

She pinned on her backpack a tiny flag
And wore a ribbon to support her soldier.
Each day she tried to fight the endless tears,
Thinking “I’m strong, I’m a soldier’s daughter.”
Still she could not grasp the thought of freedom,
And wished he was here to share one more hug.

The sister, in college, could offer no hug.
The mother, distraught, could not fly the flag.
In the lonely desert sat the soldier.
The news was all of deaths for freedom.
Insolent classmates brought out the girl’s tears:
“Why be proud,” they jeered, “to be a soldier’s daughter?”

Soon the mother broke, the duties left to the daughter
And nobody offered to give her a hug.
Harder to fight down were the constant tears
As she viewed coffins draped with the flag.
And while she knew this was for freedom,
She wanted her dad back, the proud soldier.

She prayed each night for her father, the soldier.
Across the globe, he prayed for his daughter.
They sustained hope, for the sake of freedom,
But mother, daughter, soldier, all wanted a hug.
Summer months passed like a breeze through a flag
A new child was born, fixing hope, drying tears.

A year had passed, less frequent were the tears.
After school, in the house, stood the soldier.
On his arm, a patch – the shape of a flag.
Screams of joy came from the mouth of the daughter;
She flew forward for that long-awaited hug.
In his arms she finally found that freedom.

The mother, the daughter, and the soldier
Had no more reason for woeful tears.
Through the window flew a solitary flag.


I thought of trying to submit it somewhere, but considering this is the only poem I've ever written, I don't think I will.

change is a comin!

So, the news for this week is that I've lost my second job. While this leaves extra time for school work and leisure reading (yay), it cuts down on the all important, makes-the-world-go-round, money money money. I was already struggling to pay bills and now it's going to be worse.



However, I'm trying to see the silver lining here. I'm still working on my writing, and my WIP is going along swimmingly. I'm not suffering from the delusion that I'll get published and paid, but it's leaving me more time to work toward that ultimate goal.

In other news, I can't wait for spring. Today's temp of 58 degrees gave me a cruel taste of it and I want it now. And of course, could I go out and enjoy it? No...someone was too busy throwing up.

Silver lining...silver lining...

Rejection, Hurrah!

I sent out around nine query letters a few days ago, and in record time I have received my first form letter rejection.





So, I printed it out and put it on my refrigerator. One day I will take all my rejections and say HA! I win, YOU lose!

(maybe.)

I've been unforgivably slow and reticent. But, since I only have one follower (Hi, Melanie!) I think I'm excused.

The ice storm has hit NY. My patio is covered in ice and slush. I gave myself a concussion exactly one week ago on this patio, and since I have to go out to work tonight, chances are I'll do it again. Apparently I'm not too swift on my feet.

And that brings me to my first work related rant on the blog. I have been to work almost every time it snowed, and I still fail to understand why people shop in this weather. They bring their children, for goodness sakes! On the day after Christmas, there was a state of emergency, and people were STILL there. Every customer that comes in today deserves to be injured.

I'll be back sooner than later, I promise...hopefully with something more interesting to say.

Every Visible Thing by Lisa Carey

Summary (From back of book):
When unthinkable tragedy strikes, at what point must a family turn away from the past and move forward into the future? The extraordinary new novel from the critically acclaimed author of Love in the Asylum and The Mermaids Singing is a darkly absorbing, deeply realistic portrait of adolescence, family, and grief.

Review:

I picked up this novel entirely by chance. I'm a big believer in covers selling the novel, and it caught my eye on the way out of the library. From the very first paragraph, I was hooked:

Lena's favorite part of kindergarten is the end, when her brother comes to pick her up. At two PM on the clock where she is learning to tell time, Hugh descends from the second floor where they keep the fifth graders, and her class is let loose to gather coats and clean out their cubbies. The kindergarten is not a room with desks, but an open pit with massive read-carpeted stairs leading down, each one as high as Lena's waist. Her brother likes to run down to the center of the pit and back up again, because he remembers, when he was in kindergarten, climbing these stairs like she does now: as if they were mountains.

The book switches perspective between the two main characters: teenage Lena and her younger brother Owen. Each sibling tells the story of their older brother's disappearance differently, with an honest, believable voice. They each have their own sub-stories: Owen battles his feelings for a boy in his class, resulting in many dangerous encounters, and Lena furiously searches for clues to her brother's disappearance by developing his old film and hanging with a dangerous crew of people.
Lena's and Owen's parents also have their stories, told through the eyes of their children. While they aren't a major part of the novel, the breakdown of the family starts and ends with them.
As the book moves on, the reader travels with Lena, whose obsession with her missing brother turns into a drug-filled escapade, complete with dying her hair and dressing like a boy to fit in. The reader also follows Owen as his sexual experiments lead him down a road that there is no way back from. The book's conclusion is at once terrifying and heartbreaking. This book will stay etched in your mind and soul long after you have finished reading.

My Thoughts & Rating:

It is hard to review this book without giving away major spoilers, but I will do my best. This book is so richly crafted, as if incredible thought and intention went into every line. However, it is not a labor to read like many beautifully-written books can be. There is a distinct ebb and flow to the words, creating beautiful images into the reader's mind.

Usually, excessive swearing in novels makes me angry, but in this book I barely noticed it. It did not seem forced in any way, nor offensive, and it never took away from the story. Yes, there were a few f-bombs and a lot of others, but after awhile it seemed like any other word.
It is hard for me to pick a favorite part of this book. It was an interesting read for me, who not only has never known a "goth" kid but never read about them. I've also never experienced any parties with drug use, especially not when I was fourteen. I half-expected to not get it, to write it off as a stereotypical teen novel, but it was so much more.

The final point I will make is that I have never cried when reading a book, until this one. The last ten pages made me cry like a baby. By the end, I was so attached to the characters that I could feel their pain - even the pain of the parents.

Rating: 5/5 stars *****


Another Author's Perspective: (Which I agree with 100% and wish I could put it so eloquently)

"What I love about Lisa Carey's books is the way she manages to interweave magical elements without the story ever, for a moment, seeming contrived or strained. Her characters are absolutely real; it's a rare writer who can depict the voices of children and teenagers with such pitch perfect accuracy. Everything that happens to them, even the most fantastical, the most gut-wrenching and tragic, seems inevitable and true...And the book has lingered in my imagination ever since I finished it. It is a remarkable feat." - Ayelet Waldman