I have a traffic jam happening in my head. My thoughts are colliding with each other at break-neck speed. It’s a wonder I don’t have a headache!

I’ve been in such a good place lately. Peace has become my love song. My mantra. And I am loving it. Last week, as I was mulling over some things, I decided that I’m going to commit myself to a “Joy Project”. What does that mean? Simply this: I am going to immerse myself in those things, those relationships that bring me joy; those things that allow me to share my joy. To learn to cultivate joy each and every day. I say joy rather than happiness because happiness to me can be more circumstantial whereas joy represents something deeply rooted, centered, foundational, a constant.

So, I made this decision and then guess what? All kinds of things came up to test my resolve. Paid a grip to have the A/C fixed on Thursday; power went out that night for 14 hours; came back on Friday evening but the A/C is MIA! Got a “gentle reminder” from my homeowners association about a “special assessment” I forgot to pay. Realized my relocation plans might have to wait a little longer. Noticed a downward trend in my checking accounts that requires me to get myself in gear in a mighty way. Made such a bleeping horrendous mistake that put me right smack-dab in a position that I said I didn’t want to be in. *Sigh* See what “sleepwalking” through your life will do? Now I’m scrambling to smooth this out, slow it down, retract it, put some things off…but in the end, I know I’m going to have to suck it up and simply deal with it. Trust me – this definitely makes things truly crunchy ‘round the house. There’s more – some of it big, some of it small. And it all converged on me today like some supersized SAT that I didn’t remember signing up for. I thought to myself, “So much for my ‘Joy Project’.”

I was so close to just falling over the edge today, to just letting myself slide down into the artificial comfort of OVERWHELM. I really wanted to just sit in the middle of the floor and cry. I was out earlier today trying to distract myself when I drove past what looks like a mini-swamp. Right in the middle of this dark, decaying, drab backdrop was a single, beautiful orange flower. Growing tall, beautiful and carefree…regardless of its circumstances. Peace snuck up on me just like that. Hugged me tight. Whispered to my soul. Reminded my spirit of what was meant for me. Coaxed me to BREATHE. To surrender. To trust. To call joy forth. And so, I did. And I do.

Now, I’m not sure what this “project” is going to look like, what shape it will take other than me trying to grow joy and multiply it, transfuse it into my life and the lives of those I come into contact with. At some point, I’ll give myself a set of rules of engagement so to speak, some kind of framework in which to operate. I’m excited. And that’s always a good thing. I think this is a perfect extension of what this blog was meant to be. A revolution of sorts or as I like to say a “reveal-ation”. We’ll see how it goes. In the meantime, here are some wise words from Iyanla Vanzant on joy and how it differs from happiness. THIS is what I was trying to say.

Live DELICIOUSLY!
Live GRACEFULLY!
Embrace all the JOY you can stand!

Joy is the result of peeling away the “layers of the onion” and discovering our spiritual self. Author Iyanla Vanzant, in One Day My Soul Just Opened Up provides a great discussion of joy as it relates to our spiritual life.

According to Vanzant, joy and happiness are often thought of as the same thing, but they are very different. Joy is an internal process grounded in spiritual truth. It is about having faith in the wisdom of the Divine, your God, or whatever you perceive as your higher power. Joy is an emotional feeling that occurs in response to spiritual inspiration. Joy is a state of being that stays with you no matter where you are and what is going on.

Happiness, on the other hand, is a more temporary feeling. It is a mental and emotional response to some immediate external stimulation. Happiness, which is usually based on something physical and tangible, can come and go from moment to moment.

“The benefit of cultivating joy,” according to the author, “is that no matter where you are it stays with you. It is not reliant upon any outside factors. Does it mean you will be smiling all the time? No. Does it mean you will feel good all the time? No. Does it mean you will never again experience a moment of fear, doubt, shame, or loneliness?” Absolutely not. “It means that when you’re challenged by these emotions, you will have the spiritual strength created by joy that nothing and no one can take from you.”

• Joy is a state of being.

• Joy is spiritually inspired.

• Joy begins within.

• Joy is not dependent on people or circumstances.

• Joy has a lasting effect.

Are you a collector? It’s big business. People collect coins, art work, vintage ANYTHING, stamps, baseball cards, and beanie babies (remember that?).

Me? Other than shoes? (What? Yes, I said shoes.) I have a mini-collection of art work that I intend to expand. There’s also a collection of Thomas Blackshear figurines. Oh, and ink pens. I used to collect unique brooches. My favorite collectibles right now? African-American Christmas ornaments.

The thing with collecting it, you have to love what it is you’re collecting. You have to understand that item so you know what’s what. You have to know what things are worth. How to spot a fake. All that applies to the serious collector..of serious items. If you’re collecting fun things (my pens, brooches), it’s not that serious. You like what you like, you buy it.

I realize I have other things that I collect also. Some are invaluable to me and others have absolutely no value to anyone no matter how you twist or turn them. Things that are invaluable are my relationships, memories of time spent with family/friends – good times and bad times. Things that I’ve learned about myself and life. Good books. Good music. Art.

But those other “collectibles”? It’s time to let them go. They hold no value. Never have. They’re dust collectors and simply weigh on my spirit. Things like memories of bad relationships that we tend to put on repeat. Pain that we tend to keep on redial. Poorly made decisions. Memories that keep adding new lyrics to my “Am I enough?” tape. Nothing. Those things are like those sets of glasses the fast-food restaurants used to sell. The ones with the cartoon characters on them. They served a purpose – holding your drink. You can hold on to them but they will never have any greater meaning, purpose, or value than it did when you first bought them. So it is with those other “collectibles”. They have no value.

To me, that translates into clutter and I’m trying to live clutter free – literally and figuratively in every area of my life. So, I’m packing all that stuff up and tossing it out. It served its purpose.

It’s all about knowing what makes your spirit sing, who makes your heart smile, what’s truly adding value to your life and investing your time and energy in those things, those people. That’s true wealth Baby.

Dear Yesterday,
There were so many thoughts running through my mind when I sat down to write this letter. Now they seem to have dried up and blown away leaving me standing here with lazy tumbleweeds rolling through my mind. I’m not sure I know where to start – I can’t remember where we began, or where we end.

I need you to let go. Really. If you cared anything about me at any point in our past, please – just let go. Holding on to what was is weighing on me in a mighty way. I see you tiptoeing around the edges of Today, close enough that I know you’re there but not so close that I can accuse you of crossing the line. I don’t want to sound mean about it because we had some good times – but, what we HAD is just that – what we HAD. I need to free myself from the memories that bloom slowly in your shadow so that I can move on.

There is no life for me in living in the past. I’m not saying this is goodbye forever because you helped shape me. There was a time when YOU were my very present PRESENT but…that time has come and gone. I will always acknowledge you – you are part of my reality. Part of the quilt of days that comprise my life, you are deep in the fabric of my being. How can I forget that.

And yet, sometimes, you want more time and energy than I can give to you. And I don’t want to live my life from the rear view mirror, don’t want to live life in reverse - always focused on what’s behind me when Life in all it’s richness is standing before me with open arms. There’s no need to be jealous of Today or even Tomorrow. I promise to build so many beautiful moments into Today and Tomorrow that when they become a part of you, it will make you that much more beautiful, that much more strong.

You’ll always be a part of me. Just not my primary place of residence. I love you no more or no less. After all, you are the yesterday that I created. You came to me a virtual blank slate and it was up to me to fill you with whatever I wanted. I tried to choose wisely, to paint you full of happy memories, learning experiences, laughter, faith, promises to be kept. From where I’m sitting, I’ve done a good job. You can rest now.

I’ll bring the very best of who I today into TODAY. Pack this 24 hour stretch of time with grace, love, faith, laughter, dreams, and all the goodness that I can find so that you are made that much more rich. Let me do this for us. I’m letting go. I need you to do the same.

I love you – yesterday, today AND tomorrow.

From my heart to yours,
Always with love,
Always,

J

When I was younger, the little snotty-nosed kid across the street used the sleep walk. His family had a “cozy” little house so his nightime roaming was rather short in term of distance. It was creepy as hell cause dude already had a habit of sleeping with his eyes open. Ugh!

I was thinking about sleepwalking earlier today. In light of all this newfound energy, clarity and movement, I realize that for far too long, I actually HAVE been sleepwalking through my life. Seriously. On automatic pilot. Doing just enough to say I participated but not really rolling up my sleeves and getting my hands dirty. Just letting things happen. And sometimes having to scramble to straighten out a mess I let happen while I was living unconsciously.

They say sleepwalking is usually a sign of lack of sleep, intense emotional problems, stress or fever. Yep. That’ll do it for sure. The variation that I’m speaking of can be brought on by the same things although generally, there’s also a desire to avoid something, to not have to make a choice, a reaction to pain. And for some, a sense of hopelessness.

I tend to suffer from what’s called “fibrofog” which means my concentration may be off if I’m having one of those ‘fibro’ days. Add to that my penchant for “sleepwalking” through my life and my dilemma is doubled.

Sometimes sleepwalkers wake up and don’t remember anything that happened or understand how they got wherever it is they ended up. Been there. Done that. In my relationships. Career. Personal. Definitely in my personal relationships. Ended up somewhere I hadn’t intended to be, someplace I didn’t recognize and couldn’t figure out for the life of me “how” I got there. Ended up somewhere uncomfortable, painful, hurtful with my head in my hands, my heart shattered and laying around my feet as I cried wondering just how the heck I got to *this* place.

In those moments when I was sleepwalking through my life, I know God sent me many wake-up calls in the form of other people, situations, and a bunch of events. Sometimes I saw them. Sometimes I ignored them. Sometimes I prayed to “sleepwalk” through them. I did - ain’t no sense in me trying to make it out to be anything other than what it is. “Tell the truth, shame the devil”.

I don’t want to deal with that anymore. “Sleepwalking” through my life. Living unconsciously. Just letting life happen to me.

Naw - I’m about CONSCIOUS LIVING. Being present for each and every moment. Wrapping it in as much rich goodness as I can. As much joy as I can stand.

Yep, I’m awake now. WIDE AWAKE.

BOUND AND DETERMINED TO LIVE MY LIFE LIKE IT’S GOLDEN.

Shoot, Dorothy ain’t the only one trying to ease on down the road.

Besides, I have the perfect pair of ruby red sandals that will put just the right amount of stank in my strut to let the world know that what I’m traveling on ain’t no ordinary yellow brick road but a golden highway leading to something beautiful.

Every once in a while, I “detox” my life. Meaning, I step away from people for a while, evaluate where I am, where I want to be, and how I can move forward. Generally speaking, in this process, some people, places and things drop by the wayside.

This time around, after my little tête-à-tête with my doc, I decided to literally detox my body as well. I’m on Day 8 but I have to tell you – I feel so much better already. Seriously. I had a headache the first couple of days but that’s it as far as “negatives” and even that’s to be expected to some degree. My energy level is through the roof which is just fine by me. I’m not in constant pain (though a massage is still in order). I’m not craving sugar in any form (um…well…er…neva mind!). Hmmm…makes me wonder if I was ever really *craving* it or if it was just a habit. With the heat being what it’s been and my a/c not being what it should, I’ve been eating lighter for obvious reasons. My doc would probably faint to note that not only am I drinking water, I’m drinking A LOT of water. That’s major for me. The weather cooled over the weekend so I started tackling projects in the house. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again – it is amazing how much clarity you gain by simply clearing physical space in your life. Ahhhh, change can be a beautiful thang.

In my last post, I talked about how things were getting a bit crunchy. They are. That’s life. I have to keep moving. Until late this afternoon, I’d been without my laptop for about a 1.5 week which is normally BEYOND torture for a ‘net junkie like me. But you know what? I took it all in stride this time and treated it as part of my detox. Let myself step away from reading about other people’s lives long enough to do some housekeeping in my own. Pushed the off button on other people’s relationships so that I could direct some positive energy into my own relationships.

I was listening to one of my pastor’s recent sermons and he talked about chaos. We spend so much time either trying to avoid it or causing it for ourselves and/or others. “The Rev” said that creation comes out of chaos. God sat down on a swirling mess and created the universe. He didn’t struggle against it, He didn’t walk or run away from it – He sat down in the midst of it, thought about what He wanted, and then called it into being.

Are you were I was a couple of weeks ago with life swirling around you?

Sit down.

Calm yourself – heart, mind, mouth, body.

Think about what you want.

Call it into being – specifically call what you WANT, not what you DON’T want. Give

Create your world.

Then live in it.

What’s the word? Thunderbird! (Ok. Let’s consider that homage to the country in me)

*sigh* Ya’ll know what? I am soooooo at peace right now. I’m amazed. Grateful. Amazed again. Humbled. In awe.

See, here’s what’s what. Thangs are starting to get a wee bit crunchy ‘round da house, what with me not having a regular 9-2-5. I keep looking at my checkbooks (notice the plural…how many checking accounts does an unemployed Diva need? *smh*). And the balance keeps falling like those low, low prices at Wal*Mart. Am I stressed? Nope. Might have to tap into my 1st level reserve but that’s cool – that’s what it’s for right?

Ok, add to that the following things:

1. My car is acting up. Day before I left for NC, it wouldn’t start. Wasn’t the battery. I thought it might be electrical. Went to repair shop. Dude says sometimes the computer needs to reset itself. To do that, let the engine tack up to 2000rpms. Cool. Except for one thing – if the frigging car won’t start, how do you let the engine do anything but lay there like it’s in a coma?? Anywho, $20 later, I was on my way to NC. Coming back, stopped at my mom’s. When I was leaving, guess what happened? Yep. My car tried to play me again. I won that round.

2. Got estimates for A/C repair at mi casa. Can I tell you that I might have to sell a kidney? CRAZINESS. But with temps in the 100’s, what’s a Diva to do? All that sweating just ain’t cute or necessary…um…unless….well…anyway. So, called up another person today. I like his style so come Monday morning, we shall see what we shall see. His guesstimate was $2000 less than the lowest estimate I’ve gotten.

3. Hmmm…my laptop died on me earlier this week. Battery said “I’ve had enough!” and that was all she wrote. Technically “that” was all I wrote too. *Sigh* And I was on such a roll with my novel and what not. Now I’m waiting on replacement parts. With my fingers crossed. That “Brown” will knock on my door tomorrow and show me exactly what they can do for me.

4. Let’s see…I put off some auto repairs earlier. Gotta do that.

5. Mi casa is do for some sprucing up that can’t wait much longer. I think that will require the sale of my second kidney.

6. My doc did me a solid this week (homage to real old ol’ skool). Considering that I’m now one of the “great uninsured”, he cut me a deal on a visit I couldn’t afford…but couldn’t afford not to keep. But um, why was we (yeah, I said “why was we”) in his office arguing? He’d asked me to track something for a month. I did – quite honestly I might add. He didn’t believe me. I knew he wouldn’t so….I brought a note from a “witness”. Yes I did. Anywho, things are not as they should be and he can’t tell me why. We’ve been doing this dance since before my ex-employer and I “divorced”. So he tells me to do XYZ, 123, yada yada yada. Doc tells me all this things that might cause my “syndrome to flare up and tells me to “just say no” to caffeine, alcohol, sugar, red meat, processed foods, dairy. Did he say DAIRY? As in no cheese? Blasphemy! Doc also tells me that I should stay away from the “whites” (white flour, sugar, potatoes, rice). I can’t stop laughing – not because he’s stripped my diet down to nothing but fish, veggies and fruit with water – but cause here’s this new age white man all up in my face telling me to stay away from “whites”. He had to laugh himself.

7. My neighbors (the “good” neighbors) are moving. They put the house on the market last Sunday. How ’bout, I go to the house one day last week and both of my parking spaces are occupied? The realtor is showing the house to someone. Ok. But um, why didn’t she park in the 2 spaces belonging to the townhouse she’s trying to sell? I’on know. So what do I do? Um, “Jacquita” came out and blocked both their cars in while “I” went inside my house to do whatever I came to do. I watched them come out the house, look left, look right, look left again, wondering who could have blocked them in. By this time, I was standing by the front door getting things off the table. The realtor comes halfway down my steps, lets at-ti-tude drip from her voice and says, “‘Scuse me. Is THAT YOUR car behind our cars? If so do you mind moving it?” I smile and say, “I’m sorry, were you talking to me? I didn’t hear you say good evening or anything so I didn’t think you were addressing me.” She looks at me like WTH and I give it back to her. She’s at the bottom of my steps by this time and the prospective buyer is standing at the top so I speak to her, general chitchat about buying a house. The realtor does her “Scuse me - but could you move your vehicle? I have another appointment.” I turn back to the buyer and say, “It’s a quiet neighborhood, needs a little work but it’s cool. One of the things I really like is having two RESERVED parking spots per unit.” And the realtor’s face cracked and rolled down the sidewalk. She looks all foolish and says, “Oh, I didn’t know the spots were reserved.” So I tell her “No problem - I’ll be out in about 2 minutes” and then tell the prospective buyer “It kinda makes you wonder what else you didn’t know about.” That darn Jacquita. She’s a mess. Specially on a hot day.

Some other random stuff coming and going. Family matters and whatnot. Trying to get D, my cousin A, and D’s best friend straight for senior year and freshman year at somebody’s college next year. One of my aunt’s (she’s the oldest of my mom’s siblings) has been diagnosed as being in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. She’s already having trouble remembering people. BigSis#2 and I were just talking about flying to NY this Fall to see her.

I wont’ even go into the rest of the what’s what. It doesn’t matter. I’m good. Surprisingly. Amazingly. Humbly. Good. With all that swirling around me, I was gonna hold an online telethon with moi as the cause. Instead, I signed up for the bellydancing class that was on my list of “201 silly facts about me”. Gotta love that!

I was talking to someone about this stuff today and she said that, when you have God, you don’t stress this kind of stuff.

I smiled and said Baby, even better than that – GOD HAS ME.

Enjoy your weekend! Perhaps I’ll blog atcha later, much cooler, from the comfort of my own home office (yes, technically it IS my living room sofa. And what?)

Live DELICOUSLY!

Butterfly: The Butterfly represents transformation and is a symbol of metamorphosis. The Butterfly represents a need for change and greater freedom to be ourselves … and brings us the gift of Soul Evolution. The Butterfly teaches us about the never-ending cycle and power of our own self-transformation.

It reminds us to stay in the moment and at the same time it represents courage: one requires courage to carry out the changes necessary in the process of ones own growth.

If I told a Caterpillar
that tomorrow
he would be a Butterfly
he would call me a liar!
… old Sufi Saying

******** ******** ******** ********

I love butterflies. If I had to pick something, an image that represented me, I would most likely pick a butterfly. They remind me of freedom, transformation, beauty, femininity, growth, change, power, grace…everything that’s in the words above and then some. Probably even more so today as those things seem to mean more to me. Subconscious goals. My internal “To Do” list…or rather my “To BE” list.

I feel like I’ve been in a cocoon (um, a chrysalis - butterflies develop chrysalis not cocoons - moths spin cocoons) for a while now, awaiting the day I punch my way out of it, unfold my weeks and find myself transformed. Personal metamorphosis. Not a “re-creating” or reinventing of myself. Simply a deeper level of being who I was intended to be, finding myself just that much closer to my soul purpose as designed by the Creator. Transformation – metamorphosis – can take place on many levels in our lives and I’m feeling it in every area. I’m ready. Ready to spread my wings and take flight.

People are always going on about why someone else doesn’t learn XYZ, why they continue to stay in dead-end jobs or bad relationships. I’ve learned that each of us has a journey and we can’t take shortcuts on that journey without stunting our growth. Reminds me of the story of the man who that he was helping the butterfly out by opening the “cocoon” before it was ready and it never really made it to that beautiful butterfly stage. Sometimes we think we’re helping people but we have to be sure that what we see as “help” is what they truly need. I think about the experiences I’ve had in my life and where I am now and I can truly be thankful for each and every one of them. THAT’s growth.

Power. How does that apply to something as delicate as a butterfly? I read somewhere that something as simple as the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings can cause a typhoon halfway around the world. That’s impactful. That’s POWERFUL.

Beauty. Femininity.

There’s a WHOLE ‘nother post in and of its self. I’m not going to delve into the details right now – it’s so deeply personal, it may never make the blog. Just know that, f or the longest time, for many reasons, I fought against my femininity. Don’t get me wrong – no matter what was going on in my life at any given moment, you would know that I was a woman. You just wouldn’t always see, to paraphrase the Sears tagline, “My softer side”. I’m done with that now. Enough is enough. It’s time to stand up, reclaim those curves, and revel in being the beautifully bold, beautifully creative, beautifully grounded, beautifully grace-filled, beautifully human person that I truly am.

Now that’s what FREEDOM is really all about.

Off to shop for a butterfly charm for my necklace. Who knows? Might end up with that butterfly tat after all. Smooches!

I’m about to hit the road. My nephew D and I are taking a leisurely drive to North Carolina to hang out with BigSis #2 and her hubby. It should be fun. Haven’t visited them in NC in a few years cause um…my bruh-in-law? He’s crazy. LOL

D…

My nephew’s entering his senior year in high school. Whew! The prayers, the work, the threats it took to get him to this point. When I picked him up last weekend, he was making phone calls (as usual). He called one of his teammates (he plays football) and told him to be sure he studies the playbook this weekend. I, being the amused Auntie, laughed and asked him why he was giving his friend’s assignments. Well, it turns out that “Da Dynasty” is captain of the football team. What?! What?! Yep, he and his best friend are co-captains. Awww shucks now!

My baby is growing up. Don’t get it twisted, he’s still a brat, he’s still “pampered” (I don’t like the word “spoiled” – it implies something should be thrown away) but that appears to be a family trait . Why ya’ll looking at me?

We’re working through the college thing now, trying to find the perfect balance of curriculum, athletics, etc. We’re a behind the eight ball to a degree – I find that to be true of his best friend also. I’ve been trying to impress upon him that there are people who will clamor for him per his athletic ability but he has to look at all the angles. Not everyone has his best interest at heart as evidenced by the lack of information circulating in his school and from his guidance counselor. *Breathe*

So, he’s about to head out into “the real world” to a degree. And I find myself making mental lists of things to talk to him about, things that he needs to learn how to do for himself. He’s driving now so when we were on the way home last weekend, I asked him if his parents had given him the “what to do if the police stop you” talk. Nope. We talk a bit about defensive driving strategies, weather conditions & speed, TICKETS.

I was washing clothes the other day and I wondered if he knew how to separate his clothes. College you know? Had he been paying attention when I gave him money and made him save half? Did he listen when I told him about weighing the pros and cons of a situation? Was he paying attention when I told him that being an athlete is wonderful but the real prize is that degree? When we talked about athletes and “privilege”? (Poor D – almost every time an athlete acted up, I was calling him with a mini-lecture. It got so that he started calling me first with the breakdown.) Did he understand what I meant about his tone of voice and how, if it read “wrong” to me, surely someone who didn’t know him wouldn’t get it either? And who can forget the “condom” conversation? My poor nephew turned 15 different shades of red but…that’s life and I want to be sure he protects his. Did he finally get what I meant about not everything that people say to him requiring a response from him? That as much as I love the truth, I needed him to understand that what’s true for him may not be true for another person and that was okay? That sometimes it wasn’t his place to tell the truth to another person - always check his motives, how he delivers it, when? That while he’s a talented athelete, a smart person, and not hard to look at, all of it is a gift - he can’t take credit for it, not to take advantage of it either but to treat it as a gift because it could all be taken away in an instance? That he doesn’t have to go along with the crowd, that he can make up his own mind? That it isn’t the quantity of “friends” - it’s the quality? That he has to make wise decisions because decisions have consequences so he needed to choose wisely? To learn to do for himself but to remember that he has a support system that he can turn to when he needs help and there’s no shame in asking for help if/when it was needed?

We had a conversation about how some people at his school (teachers, counselors, etc), keep telling praising him for “making such a great turnaround”. He was flattered. I was not. He asked me why. I asked him what it was exactly that they thought he had done that required a “turnaround”. *Crickets* Exactly. So why would they stand in the face of a young black male who has decent grades, is a good athlete, and has the same kind of brushes with authority that most kids his age have had and proclaim that he’s made “a turnaround”? I told him that first of all, he DIDN’T “turnaround” - this is the direction in which he was ALWAYS headed. I told him that, if they had truly been doing THEIR part, there wouldn’t have been any such thing in their minds as a “turnaround”.

I know that some of the things we talked about stuck because I’ve heard him talking to his best friend about some of it and some of it’s evident in his behavior. Cool. Gives us a little more breathing room.

When he was younger, my nephew told me that sometimes I was mean, at least mean to him. I told him he was right but as a young African-American male, he needed to understand that LIFE would sometimes be mean to him. I impressed upon him that I would never tell him anything that was wrong or that would hurt him but that I wasn’t trying to help his parents “raise a child”. I was interested in raising him into manhood and sometimes that meant getting in his face…or getting in his a**.

Off to double-check the suitcase. Enjoy your weekend!

Relax. I haven’t done anybody in…yet…though somebody DID pluck my nerves Saturday in such a MIGHTY way, it warranted some serious azz kicking to almost near-death proportions. I’ma leave that alone cause the mere THOUGHT of what was said to me makes my teeth itch and my blood boil. And um, now that I think about it, somebody else hit my irritation button yesterday but you know what? That was a flea - one flick and he was gone. Over. Done.

Anywho…on to the “real” murder.

My novel-in-progress. I’m KILLING it!

No, not as in “scraping” it. As in wracking up the word count. Whoo-frigging-hoo! I set a goal of reaching 20,000 words by this Friday. I crossed over that line yesterday afternoon. 24,000 words. That’s right…twenny-fo thou!! Go Jackie, Go Jackie!! Now, is it 24,000 “solid” words? Well…see….what had happened was….um…

Honestly? I don’t know. I mean, I wrote what I think are some tight scenes. They flow. Individually. But um, when knit together will them make a beautifully quilted story? Um…I’m not sure. The thing is, this story is coming to me in scenes. And not sequential scenes either. It’s all over the map. The first scene I ever wrote was the prologue. Then I wrote the ending scene. Backed up and wrote a scene that will be a middle scene. These characters have been jumping all over the place trying to tell this story. Sheesh! If this is how they live, I see why they have relationship problems.

It’s all good though. I really just want to get the words on the page then I can go back and reorder scenes, tighten up writing…all that stuff that comes with editing. We never did much “Show-and-Tell” when I was in school and somehow I think that’s carried over to my novel. I think I’m trying to make up for it by “telling” with just a wee bit of “showing”. We’ll see. As wordy as I am, it shouldn’t be hard to go back and add descriptive prose to the mix right? Um. that’s purely rhetorical. For the longest time, I didn’t think I could write fiction. I didn’t think I would be good at writing dialogue. Ha! I don’t know why - as many voices as I be hearing in my head.

I need to go back to my outline - it’s a very, very high level outline. Ok, basically it’s how the story starts, a couple of things that happen in the middle, and how the story ends (which is subject to change). In other words, I’m winging it. *sigh* So not the plan I had in mind but “the Muse” reminds me that he is driving this train and I am along only for my dictation skills. That muse. He can be such an animal sometimes.

As I was writing yesterday, it dawned on me that I just might have to commit murder. No, not as part of the storyline although that chick, the antagonist, is irking me to no end. That’s why she got a knife thrown at her head in the opening scene. But no, as I was reviewing my character chart, I realized I’d given the lead character a younger sister, a mother, and a father. I’ve written 13 scenes and not once have any of them entered the story. So, they’re just clutter. Extras. Fluff.

Hmm…I think I’ll kill off the sister (um, she won’t be a part of the storyline. Ever). That will explain the lead character’s close friendship with the heffa “alleged” best friend. And her parents? Hmmm…oh, I got it. They will meet untimely deaths which tie in with another plot twist. Hehehehehe.

Ahhhh, I love it when a plan comes together. Well, when a high-level plot comes together that is.

Keep ya fingers crossed. If mine are crossed, I can’t write.

Forgive the cheesy pun. Charge it to the fact that I’ve been up all night.

Yep, I got the fever.

Forget the 12-step program unless it moves me 12-steps closer to the end of this novel in progress.

Off to greet the day before my fictional rampage begins!

Live DELICIOUSLY!

~*~ J ~*~