I'm Going Outside, Mother

Blogging Burn Out or so it seems. I'm not reading much these days and my posting has been little as far as content goes these days. Besides, it's hot here in Santa Fe these days, and I don't think they'd let me move into Starbucks for the AC. I've been escaping from the heat by going for an Iced Venti Chai and writing (or trying to write) for an hour or so in the cool, refreshing land of refrigerated air.

So, here I am outside in my backyard (thank God we have no humidity in New Mexico), and I just spent the evening reading some of Fr. James Martin's newest posts over at America.



The Mysteries of Childhood made me think about my own childhood back in the mid-to-late 70s and how innocent and easy it all seemed. My mom stayed home, I grew up a neighborhood with a whole bunch of kids and our parents would late us play in the cul-de-sac till it got dark. We actually played. None of us had video games or any of the stuff kids have now. None of us were latch-key kids, though my generation was the first for that. We all had married parents, we were all Cathol ic and our experiences were all pretty much alike. It's funny, now that my friends have kids, their children's childhoods are/were so different. I really could relate to Fr. Martin's perspective in the article.

Then I read a piece he wrote criticizing an article in the New Yorker about Nuns. I don't have a subscription to the New Yorker so I couldn't read it all, but the snippet Fr. Martin posted was enough to leave a bad taste in my mouth. I then followed his links in the article and read a piece he wrote several years ago about Anti-Catholicism.

For me, Anti-Catholicism was something I never experienced on a personal level. I was never ridiculed for being Catholic. I had some misguided attempts to be converted or saved by family members or friends who left the church, but they were never nasty about it.

I learned about places where Anti-Catholicism was prevelant in my history classes, but it was always distant, far from my own experience. As I said, everyone I knew was Catholic, my hometown is historically Catholic and so, no one ever dared to preach intolerance or hate against Catholics here. Now, you find some churches, pastors and others preaching certain messages. But I never knew it existed before till I hopped on the Internet and in my wanderings stumbled upon it. I think I've said this here before, but still, it astonishes me how it is acceptiable to pick on Catholics.

I really hate the protrayals of our religious and priests in TV/Movies and Books. And the thing is, if you find a positive portrayal of say a priest in a novel or a movie, someone is always looking for a scandal. As a writer, and looking back on my fiction, I've noticed that it's highly Catholic or heavily influenced by my Catholic upbringing. Not all my characters are "good, practicing Catholics" but they're Catholic by culture, history, tradition and experiences. I probably am writing to a limited audience, but hopefully an audience who can appreciate my take on the faith. And my priest character, sad to say, is happy, well-adjusted and won't get caught up in any kind of scandal.

Anyway, I will say again how much I enjoy Fr. Martin's writings and his thoughts over at America.

There are still a few Novena posts I want to finish and if anyone is interested I'll still post the slideshow I still intend on putting together.

The Hands of a Priest

I was working on a scene in one of my stories. It looks like my character Andrew will get his own story someday, but he's with his sister Isabel as they're contemplating their lives without each other as they've now graduated from college and are taking jobs in two different cities, he in DC and she in Albuquerque. It's the first time they've been away from each other. She reaches out and makes a comment about his hands. I'm not sure what she's going to say exactly but it's sort of foreshadowing to the fact that he's going to become a priest one day.

So, I googled " a priest's hands" to see if what I could find and I found this poem here and thought it was pretty and worth remembering. I'll find the right words for her to say to him.

I must admit, I've noticed that all the priests I know have beautiful hands.

The Beautiful Hands of a Priest

We need them in life's early morning,
we need them again at its close;
We feel their warm clasp of friendship,
we seek them when tasting life's woes.

At the altar each day we behold them,
and the hands of a king on his throne
Are not equal to them in their
greatness; their dignity stands all alone;

And when we are tempted and wander
to pathways of shame and sin,
It's the hand of a priest that will absolve
us----not once, but again and again;

And when we are taking life's partner,
other hands may prepare us a feast,
But the hand that will bless and unite
us is the beautiful hand of a priest.

God bless them and keep them all holy
For the Host which their fingers caress;
When can a poor sinner do better than
to ask Him to guide thee and bless?

When the hour of death comes upon us
may our courage and strength be increased.
By seeing raised over us in anointing the
beautiful hands of a priest!

Author Unknown

Walking on Sunshine.

Rain makes the world or my little piece of it seem all that much brighter. This morning I woke up to a great morning rain, several hours of heavy rain, actually. It wasn't warm enough to open the window to smell it and listen to it, but it was truly lovely. By noon, it had cleared up to a lovely New Mexico blue sky, but a couple hours later it clouded up again and rained even more. Now, it's gorgeous outside. The ground is soaked, everything is fresh and clean. I contemplated heading to the gym to work out, then I thought about going to a movie, but ended up driving around town with the sunroof open, the windows down and the Goo Goo Dolls playing on the CD player while I ran errands.

I don't remember how long ago I cleaned out my college notebooks and papers, but awhile back I tossed most of those things while I saved notebook after notebook with stories and ideas for stories. In college it was mostly Highlander fanfiction, but before that, it was mostly teenage angst. I still have a vague recollection about some of my stories, but I don't want to venture to guess what some of the plotlines were or who the characters were based on.

Meanwhile, I am on a quest to find a paper I wrote Junior year for Religion class. I had to write about the Death Penalty and I didn't quite grasp the concept of Capital Punishment then. It was probably the first real research paper I had to tackle and so I worked really hard. I ended up with an A, but for the life of me I can't remember what I wrote and I saw it when I was cleaning out my school boxes and I can't find it for the life of me now. I know I saved it.

Amid the notebooks and other papers, I found old Trapper Binders from high school filled with story after story written in long hand. I wrote hundreds of pages. I didn't read through them because I was a bit too scared to look at them, but now I know why I didn't care all that much about high school, I was too busy becoming an unpublished novelist. There is some really craptastic poetry too. I mean that. I am a lousy poet. I envy you guys who write and post poetry and it really is mostly you "guys". It blows me away how poets can express such poignant and profound thoughts in so few words, meanwhile, I ramble on probably losing track of my whole point, which of course anyone reading this journal should be able to figure out.

It was a good day. Now I'm off to have dinner with my folks, which I still do a couple of times a week. For those playing along, dinner tonight will be, orange roughy, corn, baked potatoes and salad. As, I'm not cooking, I know it will be good.

I brought the poodle doodle back with me and walked him home, together with Estrella. It was a nice evening for a walk, but you know, it's gonna to amaze me when I'm sore. You don't think walking is so hard, but it can be a great workout, especially when you've a precarious hold on two four-legged beasts. I think two miles is Estrella's limit though. She's sacked out.


posted at the lj earlier.

Been Thinking Again

Amazing huh? Actually, I've been thinking about my writing in relation to the niche or genre in which I'd like to eventually market it. I pretty much think I write for a women's oriented audience, it may be chick lit but I think it's more like contemporary lit. I'm not sure I'm bold enough to call it literary fiction, for me that genre seems a whole lot more pretentious than I write, but reading the NANO lit-fic forums, I feel like my stories fit into that genre. I am not writing romance, though I include that in my stories. It's part of life, right? My fiction always contains elements of angst, tension, and struggle. There is always something big that happens. It's drama and my characters must work their way through it all. The drama/struggle/challenge, not sure what to call it, is immediate from the moment Lena's story begins. In Isabel's story, it takes awhile to appear, but there is quite a bit to shake up her life, even with her ambivalence about her brother's ordination to the priesthood, it's there.

Now... I've mused about if I'm writing Catholic Fiction or if I'm just a Catholic Writer writing about Catholic characters. I certainly don't think any of my stories would fit in the Catholic/Christian fiction genre. Actually, I know they wouldn't. The nature of my stories don't fit into that niche at all. Quite honestly, it's not a genre of fiction that I have any interest in reading anyway. I have a not so objective opinion about how I feel about that genre. I have a stereotype in my head about the genre. I suspect the plots are solidly written, religious in nature, but don't have much by way of tension or drama. I've been told publishers don't like to see any cursing, swearing or sex of any kind in the stories. Surely, it would just be wrong for the characters to have pre-martial sex-- maybe they kiss sweetly, but not deeply, passionately on the mouth. It's electrifying just to hold hands. They can't go further than that. They always go to Church on Sundays, perhaps there is a preachy message about salvation and redemption. Perhaps in some ways, these books serve to evangelize the unsaved, maybe they serve to entertain the already believing flock or perhaps they exist to counter balance all the other work that is out there, that doesn't necessarily fit this mold. The stories that are daring, that don't mince words, that may be dark yet still teach the same lessons in redemption and salvation, but aren't white washed.

Honestly, I'm not trying to be snarky but I do worry that my fiction might be way too Catholic. That I might be preaching the faith too much in my work and am by some unintended way, making my fiction inaccessible to a mainstream audience.

I believe that my stories have lessons in salvation and redemption as well. It may not necessarily be in a religious sense, but in a personal sense anyway.

However, discussions I've witnessed on forums and communities have also led me to the notion that my work would not fit in either. I'm not writing to shock or create scandal. My characters are just who they are, some created from facets of my own personality, some are people I'd never want to be and others are idealized versions of who I might like to be. We, writers, all do that. In original fic, the dreaded Mary Sue, isn't as dreadful or the kiss of death as it is in fandom writing. I willingly admit that my characters are part of me and come from my own experiences. I cannot say that I am writing wish-fulfillment stories through my main characters. Quite frankly, I don't think I'd really want to have their lives entirely.

My characters, I hope are fallible and human. They don't strive to be perfect, in fact, their flaws make them human. I try to capture a moment as I see it happen in their lives.

So while I worry about the Catholicism creeping in and turning off main stream readers, I wonder what Catholic readers would think?

Oddly enough, I suspect that my characters would be judged harshly in the Internet Catholic Realm. I still find my mouth agape when I read stuff posted by other Catholics on the Internet regarding real people, so as my characters reflect reality, I suspect that the term "Cafeteria Catholic," or the accusation of being "not a real and true Catholic" would be tossed at out many of them. My characters are sinners, just like everyone. And they seem to catch flack in my fictional universe. There's Lena's brother who abandons the church to go to a gay friendly Episcopal church in DC. The aunt who apostates, the priest who truly believes in his vocation, is strong in his faith and wishes his twin sister understood him. The younger brother who is lost, the cousin who had an abortion, the grandmother who lost her faith completely, the seeking boyfriend who finds his faith.

It seems like in my universe my characters are either looking for faith or something, or are abandoning it one way or another. I hadn't thought much of faith in my fiction until one day I sat down and reread and revised some of Lena's story. When I started writing it, I was lapsed from mine, but elements of Catholicism crept into the story through Lena's culture and upbringing. It amazed me just how much it all influenced her and though she doesn't want to believe (I don't think she disbelieves, but she doesn't need or want God in her life) she can't deny how it has shaped her life. We Catholics joke about Catholic guilt all the time, but it's very real. We just all deal with it differently. Some obsess, some blow it of and some confess it all the time to a priest. I'm sure there are other ways too.

Anyway, I'm starting to ramble and am not sure if any of this makes any sense. I'll come back later and see.

Also posted to my writing blog.

You Give Me Something

Allergies are kicking my butt and I'm procrastinating getting to the 'rents house. As today is my day off, I told my dad I'd go deal with the bills and finances for the rest of the month but I'm still here at home.

Actually I'm reading a scene I wrote about my character Andrew-- in the scene he's 16 and complaining about a lot of stuff 16-year-old boys complain about. So he meets a popular girl-- and I read over the line:

She danced on our school’s drill team and performed atour football and basketball games.

Seeing that, which I wrote a long time ago, I immediately thought to myself that I created a future liturgical dancer. Yeah, I'm bad. I know it. I have 8 more pages to read then I'm going to work.

In other news, I'm not really inspired much to do any blogging these days. Perhaps that is why I'm interjecting more tidbits about the mundane parts of my life and some writing bits. I received a strange email yesterday to my gmail account, actually the one associated with this blog and my facebook account. It was a letter criticizing Sr. Helen Prejean, her work and her books. I didn't toss it as spam because of the subject heading: Sr. Helen and the Death Penalty. I've never talked about her in the blog before, at least I don't think so, so it seemed odd to come from a bot or someone reading the blog. I think because I joined her facebook group recently, I may have been mass emailed. Still, it was a bit weird.

Waiting For PIllowcases to Dry

So, lately, (again) I've been revising my novel, my second one. To say it's Catholic is an understatement. Of course my main character spends the first half of it declaring how much of a heathen she is, she constantly gives her twin brother grief for being a priest and while she knows she knows she's not really a heathen and while her brother's vocation brings her pride, she won't admit it. It's not till she moves to Europe with her fiance and ends up in a country with an atheist majority that she rediscovers her faith, though I don't think she ever really lost it.

I just wonder if my journey back to the church mirrors some of what my character is experiencing?

I don't profess to be the next great Catholic writer, but I am writing about Catholic characters and Catholic culture. I hope in a realistic way. I'd like to think they're human. They definitely sin, they fight, they love, they make mistakes. They're flawed. None of them are perfect.

Just because it is a "Catholic" story, my story is not G-rated by any means. It's not squeaky clean, nor is it scandalous. I think it's just based in reality. It's just every time I sit down to revise or reread particular scenes, it amazes me just how much Catholicism has influenced the story.

I don't think that this is unique to my writing though. It's obvious that even in my first novel, my Catholic upbringing has influenced my writing, which makes me think about how Catholicism influences other writers, artists, musicians. I am working my way to that post I've wanted to make...but not tonight.

cross-posted to the writing blog.

It's In My Head

While doing some minor story research for my failing attempt to do this year's NaNoWriMo story, I stumbled upon this article from a Cuban American writer who was a Shabbos Goy back in his youth for the Jewish families in his Brooklyn neighborhood. It was a really sweet article and definitely worth a read. I don't know where I first heart about "The Shabbos Goy" if it was something I read or someone mentioned, but it was nice to read someone's personal account.

I know a lot about Judaism, but like a lot of things, I know enough to get me into trouble. For this story I'm working on my characters are half-Jewish, raised by mostly secular Jewish father and a Jewish mother by conversion who was raised Catholic and converted before she met the father. The characters are actually part of my fictional universe and are cousins to my other characters in my other stories. They're the children of the second oldest daughter on my story-family tree. I really think will turn out to be a really interesting character in the end. I'm really just fleshing them out, trying to figure out who they are and I have a loose plot brewing in my head, which will incorporate a lot of the family history that I know, but haven't written or compiled for this particular story. While I don't think religion is going to play into the story much, I do need to look up spellings and definitions of terms and words for the story. I need to make the characters as real as possible and I need to explore what life would be like growing up in their family.

Being curious by nature, I follow links everywhere around the Internet. Maybe one day I will actually stay on a website long enough to learn something. Or better yet, get off the Internet and read something!

An onto something else...

From the CNN website Anne Rice Finds Jesus. She's moving onto writing her memoirs and Christian Literature. I haven't read anything of hers since the last novels in the Vampire Chronicles and the Mayfair Witches stories (before she merged them). I've read stories previously about her return to the Catholic Church, why she left and why she felt compelled to come back. That's the wonderful thing about the Church, anyone can come home, Catholic or non-Catholic.

I haven't heard good reviews about her latest two books, novelized accounts of Jesus' early life. Maybe I'm one of those who like the mystery of Jesus' life and don't really want to read someone's subjective retelling of his life. It's like Bible Fanfiction. It exists but I don't want to read it.

The other most read news stories there are either quite depressing or amusing. I hate turning on the TV these days. It's all election news, nasty, sleazy campaign ads and bad punditry.

I'm dragging. I always drag after the time change. I have two hours to get ready for Mass. Knowing this, I will probably be late. When I have time to putz around the house I always do and I'm always late. At least I already ate. I haven't been making the hour-fast the last few Sunday's. Also, I need to fill in my sheet of paper with those who have died to honor them and them to add to the Book of Life at the parish. This week, I also need to pay for a Anniversary Mass for my grandpa. It will be 15 years on Friday since his death. He died about three months to the day after my grandma died. So, my mind is on him today. Though, I have been thinking about all the ones I loved or cared about who have died. I am looking forward to Mass today. All Soul's Day rarely falls on Sunday and I don't think I've ever been to Mass where it's been celebrated.

Ok... here I go. Otherwise I'll go back to bed and sleep through Mass, which starts at 11:30. It's amazing how I can be late to Mass.

Awake and Thinking

I just realized I rarely talk about my writing in here, so bear with me while I do. Sometimes, when I can't sleep I write in my head or at least think about my stories. I'm not always stressing out about life, which is a good thing. I can, however, stay up late writing in my head too. I've always been a creative person. For me, fiction and writing is a natural part of my life. I've been making up stories since I was a little girl. I do believe creativity runs in my family. We have artists, seamstresses, carpenters, and a couple of writers (journalist types) in the family. It makes sense I express myself through words.

I've lazed in bed on a weekend morning or a day when I don't have to be up early and think about my stories. Sometimes, scenes or actual bits of plot come to being from these moments. Often, I just try to work out a scene that is troubling me. Unfortunately, I'm still troubled with two of my stories. I still don't know how to end my first novel. I need my main character to go off to Europe with her daughter and her best friend. She is supposed to spend the inheritance his partner left for her and her daughter when he died. Meanwhile, the best friend will meet a nice guy in Spain and stay, giving her the keys to the NYC apartment and tell her to move back to NYC, which I can see happening. However, I don't want to write about her adventures in Europe and I need to make her reunion with her daughter's father seem realistic. Oy. That's where I've been stuck for a long, long time now.

Then with my second story, which is the one I've been writing for a couple of years now, is at another turning point and I can't decide how it all ends. This is a story that I don't want to see end. I love my characters. for better or for worse, they truly live in my head. A few nights ago, I was thinking about, Isabel and Andrew, (the twins of this story) and a scene that emerged as a result of my thoughts on the election.

They were sitting around the county fair building here in town waiting to vote. Of course, there was the usual conversational banter between them. He was reading and studying all the voter guides, which I'm sure he'd read and studied before. He had the bishops' guide for Faithful Citizenship, the archbishop's pastoral letter, and whatever else he found helpful to help guide him in his decision. He was smart, well-educated and didn't like that he had to make this choice, either way he felt it was a bad one. Meanwhile, Isabel knew how she was going to vote, no second guessing, no reservations, but her brother, the priest, was struggling as many people I know are struggling.

Perhaps I was working through my election conflict through Andrew, the priest character.
Maybe I was thinking or speculating what the priests at my parish were struggling with this year. I really don't know. This isn't a scene I'll finish or include in the story but I had to write it. I tend to find stories in just about all things, some are good ones to tell, others just little pieces to the whole. Often, I write about things I've been observing in others and not necessarily happening to me. You never know what just might inspire me to write something.

Where Are The Muses?

So, I'm sort of cross-posting things from LiveJournal into here. Anyway, this is the latest.

Things with the parents seem to be slightly more under control. I'm paying all the bills now. Dad's ok... but it worries me when he gets so foggy. I still think he's over medicated. We had a serious talk yesterday about my short-term goals, wants and desires. He was actually supportive. I seriously do need to get a better job before year's end. I don't know if I can continue to do real estate in an ever-slowing market and who knows when we'll hit bottom and I don't think it will get better for quite some time, no matter who gets elected. So... I'm going to go on the serious job hunt, if I'll be able to find one. Oh, there's a part-time web thingy I should apply for at one of the radio stations here in town.

I'm so procrastinating about everything these days. I think it's an end of summer sort of malaise. I don't want the summer to end even though I love fall so much. At least it's warm that I can still sit outside and enjoy my back patio. However, I've already put the down blanket on my bed because it's getting cold at night. Ah, life in the desert. My allergies are wiping me out. It's chamisa and yellow-stinky flower season 'round these parts, so I'm living on Claritin right now. Still, the sky is golden, the trees are starting to turn on the mountain, and the roadsides are dotted by purple and gold wildflowers. The light has that soft, muted hue and it's just gorgeous here. It seemed like it happened overnight. Fall is my favorite season of all seasons. Yeah, I know, it's not fall for another few days. If feels like it. It's crisp and chilly.

I think it's an early night tonight. I'll either do some reading or fight with the muses. I can't end either of my stories. I may dig "Andrew" out of the character box and write more of his story. He is fun. Or, perhaps, work on some other semi-fleshed out story beginnings for other stories, but bed might be best.

I really need to watch and listen to my Catechism DVDs. I teach my first class on Saturday. I've been studying the teacher's guide for a while now, I've been looking up resources online and am preparing myself for 18 third-graders. I'm teaching straight from the book, but I'm still nervous. I keep telling myself I know more than they do. I know more than they do... heh! I've been assured there is a music CD in which we can sing along with, because there is no way I'm going to lead the group in song! Then starting in October, for 12 nights till April, I start to teach the sacramental classes-- the kids will make their first Confessions in January and then their First Holy Communions in May. That will be fun, seeing them to a goal.

Now... who would have thought three years ago I'd be a supporting member of my parish church? I blame the Czech for all this! If he hadn't broken my heart, I never would have felt the need to work through all the pain through a new novel, which had a throw- away line in the story about the OFC's brother, the priest, who then I had to flesh out and research, then he grew on me and became a main character, and I really had to figure exactly who he was, so then I started going to Mass again (actually, it's my friend's fault, she dragged me to a really special novena) but I kept going afterward-- all in the name of research... yeah, right. Eventually, I then joined the parish, had a meeting with my priest, then talked to the director of religious ed and somehow I ended up here... gulp. Lord help me from writing bad grammatical sentences and third graders.

Inside You The Time Moves and She Don't Fade

So... my novel is driving me crazy. I know I don't spend a lot of time rambling on about it in here. How did a fictionalized account about my broken heart end up becoming some epic saga about Isabel and the men in her life, her eventual return to the church and now the possible conversion of her somewhat agnostic boyfriend? It's about more than just that, but if I keep on going at the pace I'm going, it will be a thousand pages long and be so far off from my original idea, I don't know what I'll have.

Speaking of reading, writing and characters, I saw a book at Borders that caught my eye a few months ago. Usually, after Mass I usually go for coffee with a good friend of mine and my mom sometimes comes along. I buy lots and lots of books, mostly in the genre that I write, sometimes historical fiction and I've read a few biblical fiction books. There was one fictionalized story about Mary Magdalen that I really disliked but I read it all-- it was like 800 pages. In lieu of reading fiction, I buy and read non-fiction. Lately, a lot of spiritual stuff. Anyway, on that particular Sunday, I picked up a book with characters that sounded similar to mine. The main character a single woman (younger than Isabel) living with her boyfriend, and a brother who is a priest. I decided not to buy it for those reasons. Anyway, a couple of weeks ago I went on a book buying spree and I bought this particular book. It was nicely written, though I thought the characters were a bit flat and the plot wasn't bad or overly original, it was an easy read. I don't think the story will stick with me.

Regarding plots, honestly, there aren't that many overly original plots in fiction-- they're all re-tellings of the same basic plots in fiction. I have an email I should repost with the basic fiction plots. I'll save it for the writing journal, but I digress.

This story was more about characters who happened to be Catholic, than anything really exploring Catholicism in fiction, which apparently mine does. While there was a sister with a brother as a priest relationship, it isn't like mine. Whew. Thank goodness. I don't like what she did with her priest character-- but that was her choice-- my gripe will wait for my post about priests in portrayed in pop culture. It's still in draft mode. The life my character lives in my story will be very different.

Reading this book isn't going to change how I write my story or influence it by any means. I just realized that my approach with similar sorts of characters, relationships and themes are going to be done very differently.

My stories are more character driven than plot driven. Believe me... I don't even know what my plot is. Well... I do... but it doesn't follow a simple path or outline. The working title of my first novel is called "Unmarked Paths" which is quite fitting.

One of my fears is that it's far too Catholic for a mainstream audience. That's actually trumping my fear that it is too Hispanic. And then on top of that... all the other characters are talking to me and I have a whole future story churning around in my head. I wish I knew how to shut it all down at night.

Eeek. I spotted a mouse. At least I think it was a mouse. It might have been a big, black spider that ran really fast. Ohh... a centipede perhaps. Ewww. I hate those more than mice. You'd think after spending an afternoon washing floors, no vermin would want to come into my house-- no crumbs, no mess, nothing to find on the floors. I guess not. Anyway, I'm now in my bedroom, hopefully far, far away from any unwelcome creatures.

Are We Having Fun Yet?

Not very. It's not even funny how stupid I am. And because of my stupidity, I can't follow through with my plans. None the less, I'm not happy. I can't do anything to fix it till Monday and it's not unfixable, but what I planned to do with my commission check I can't do.

This is intentionally cryptic I know. Someday maybe I'll talk about why I'm stupid. I think I'm going to go to bed. It's starting to rain, which is good.

I want to write but my characters aren't talking to me. I actually am on the verge of just scrapping it all.I hate feeling the urge to delete everything.

I think I'm going to read something, maybe "Thoughts on Solitude" or pray a rosary before I go to sleep.

Burned Popcorn almost a sin.

So... I haven't done a whole lot of much. Have not started to re-read Death Comes for the Archbishop yet. I've been following with interest about the Five Conditions offered to the SSPX to return to Rome. Opinions to come later. Maybe.

Been writing, a lot in my head, more than on "paper" but everything I'm writing about takes place in my Under the Milky Way universe and is about the future and what happens to my characters. I was reading about cloistered nuns all last night because (no I don't want to become one and if I did, apparently I'm too old anyway) one my characters probably will become one. Of course, that's a character that really doesn't exist yet and if it ever got written would be set nearly 30 years into the future.

Anyway, among my wanderings last night, I discovered that the Dominicans in Summit, NJ have a great blog, there is a Poor Clare monastery in southern New Mexico. I learned that many young men and women are choosing to join contemplative and cloistered orders these days and because of the Internet we get a glimpse of that life, which seemed so foreign and hard to comprehend before.

See, the Internet isn't that bad.

We have Carmelites here, which isn't news to me, but I can't find anything about them online. I hear their numbers are dwindling and apparently, they don't even make the hosts for the Eucharist here, but they celebrate the Tridentine Mass and have a huge secular and lay third order here. I think they still host retreats. We have two Benedictine Monasteries nearby too. Apparently, Thomas Merton was here in NM way back when, when the Trappists were trying to start a Monastery here, but this desert life wasn't conducive to their lifestyle so the Benedictines took it over. I'm really enjoying reading Merton right now.

What else, there was a nice article about "Theology On Tap" in the local paper. It looks interesting and I think I'd like to check it out sometime... but can't seem to find anything further.

Circles in My Head

I saw this first at Amy Welborn's blog, which directed me here to the Inside Catholic book circle. It sounds like something worth checking out and following along.

So I ask myself the question:

What is Catholic Fiction?

Is it fiction about Catholics, Catholic themes, characters, etc.? I think that's someone else's answer but I will ponder it.

And do I write it?

I must admit that is one of my worries. I don't know why I worry if my stories are "too Catholic". Should it matter? Does it exclude readers by the nature of my themes, characters and plots? Am I limiting myself to a certain niche or genre? I must admit that all my stories have Catholic characters and themes, but until I started writing my second novel, I never thought I was writing Catholic Fiction. I barely just learned there was a whole genre of Christian Fiction, Catholic Fiction must be a niche within that genre.

Anyway, readers who read my first novel will see that my main character is a product of her Catholic background, but it's not a major theme of the story. She's not practicing, to the dismay of her parents. She baptizes and educates her child in the faith, but it's not strong within her. I don't quite no why. I also don't think she will ever have an epiphany and return to the church (in the story) maybe in later life. My stories never really end, they keep playing on in my head. She truly is the definition of a Cultural Catholic and a product of where she was raised. She's a Hispanic New Mexican-- where Catholicism and Catholic culture are intricately tied together.

In my second story, the circumstances are different. It is Catholic. It is about Catholics. It's actually been the story that has helped me journey back to the faith and has helped me figure out exactly what it means to me.

In looking at my novels so far, perhaps they are Catholic. I hope more so in an universal way, touching upon themes that are common to everyone, that the stories are realistic and my characters are truly fleshed out and human. I want to touch someone with my writing, be it Catholics and non-Catholics alike. I want to show people a world that rings true and opens their eyes to a world they might never see otherwise.

And maybe I'm not a writer who happens to be Catholic, but a Catholic writer. Of course, then the next question I might need to ask, do I write Hispanic fiction. Oy.

Breathe

I hate coming to an end of a book that I'm enjoying. It's silly to say but i get a little sad when I end a good book. Last night I finished "The Seven Storey Mountain" by Thomas Merton. I have lots to say about it and will later, but I was totally in love with this book. I know it's possible to fall in love with books.

Anyway, I logged onto my Google page and this was the quote in the tidbits module:

"Let there always be quiet, dark churches in which people can take refuge...Houses of God filled with his silent presence. There, even when they do not know how to pray, at least they can be still and breathe easily."
— Thomas Merton

The part about knowing how to pray really sums it up for me most times, but sitting in a quiet, dark church is one of the most calming, comforting things in the world. I have noticed in that kind of stillness and quiet, it is easy to breathe.

I thought the quote was rather timely since I just finished reading his autobiography and am anxious to delve into some of his other writings, but meanwhile, I have to find something else to read. I'm trying to stick with non-fiction, spiritual and books not in the genre that I write, which I haven't quite figured out, but contemporary literature/drama/light comedy/maybe angsty chick lit best sums it up.

And the Priest is on the Phone...

Man... I lost my post. My computer totally froze up on me. I must remember to always save a draft as I compose. It's such a pain in the ass.

Anyway, the original post started about music and I ended up talking about prayer and writing. I'm not going to recompose it well but I'll try. I started off by saying how I've been listening to the Goo Goo Dolls and Lenny Kravitz a lot. The title of this post comes from the song "Slide" by the GGDs. For some reason, I listen to them a lot when I write.

I was looking for a John Mayer song that I heard at a funeral last week. I wasn't sure if it was an older song or a newer one but it touched me. I did find it and am listening to it now. I've kind of discovered Corrine Bailey Rae. One night I had the blues and I heard one of her songs and it made me think things a bit more clearly. Men are so not worth crying over. My cousin who stayed with me for Easter gave me a CD from a Canadian Jazz singer named Molly Johnson. I like it a lot. It's on the stereo in the living room, but I should take it with me in the car so I really listen to it. She's Homicide actor, Clark Johnson's sister.

So... that was it about music. I then somehow segued into talking about my weekend. It was nice and peaceful, especially after a slightly stressful week. I really am not sure I can deal with having aging parents. I struggle with it a lot. I fear being alone when it comes time to take care of them and make decisions, but we're not there yet and who knows who's soul is yet to meet mine. Anyway, Dad had a hard week and I had to deal with a lot, but it went ok. I'm really trying to learn patience. I know as they get older, I'm going to need it more and more. It's something the priest told me to pray for when I went to confession before Easter. I hadn't gone to confession since I was a little kid and it was an awkward experience for me. I see value in it, despite the fact it's something that is intimidating and I'm not sure I'm feeling overly ready to go back. Still, maybe I will one day.

Right now, I am still struggling with prayer. It is hard for me as it was never something I really learned to do. I think I talk to God. I manage to pray at church and yet, I'm still struggling when I'm not in church. I picked up a Catholic prayer book, hopefully that will help a bit. Maybe I'll work enough courage to talk to one of the priests at my church to talk to them about it. I think it's important and maybe just talking to one of them will help. I'm not really struggling with my faith or questioning a whole lot, but I'd like to have a more successful prayer life.

As I'm still trying to recreate that last post, my thoughts rambled over to talking about writing. I've posted my fiction and have given a few people I trust access. I printed up pages of it for my friend to read. I truly worry that it's too Catholic and I'm writing myself out of a mainstream market. Of course, I know it's far too Hispanic and too New Mexican for a mainstream market. I probably am also writing myself out of the Chicano/a market too, as my characters don't really fit in there either. Oy... But at Borders today when I picked up the prayer book, I bought two more novels which I DIDN'T NEED to buy as I'm not reading right now. I skimmed through one, which was my plot. Ok.. not quite because my story is not set in Ireland. I should go back and look for it again. I hope that the brother and sister were not twins. The brother is a priest in that book too. Well... I'm not having any luck finding the author or the book. I really don't intend to buy or read it. My story is quite different I'm sure, but still I'm quite curious.

I've recreated this post as best I can. Now it's time for bed.



Despite that, the weekend was lovely. I made it to the gym on Friday, went for a walk yesterday and then went to the gym today. Tomorrow, I'll start the day with a walk and then see what else happens-- like work!

Since I'm in a writing mood.

Random Shakespearean Insult of the day:
Thou puny ill-breeding knave!

Life in My Head

So... today, I finally figured out my character names and finished up most of my family tree for my novel universe. I'm still trying to get unstuck but I think I need to leave things alone for a while and work on something else while the scenarios work themselves out.

I got three hours of sleep and finally feel better. So, after Law and Order SVU, I think I'm heading off to bed. Hopefully tomorrow I can make it to the gym. I plan on going to MLS and then my office.

Wildfire

Ok... I've settled on pink as my template for this blog. I've learned to embrace the pink in my life, whatever that means.

So, this is my secret, quiet place. I don't expect any excitement around here. I started this blog because I've been reading a lot of other blogs on the blogosphere (not on LJ) and I decided to get my own so that I could comment or say hello in the event that I wanted to. Most of what I'm reading 'round here are news related or Catholic related. I'm not sure I'm going to through whole reversion process because yes... I have issues, but I've gone to Mass quite a few times since Easter and it's actually been a good experience. I'm actually a bit frightened by what some of my so-called issues are really non-issues. Though, sometimes, I wonder if there is a way to be socially and politically progressive and go back fully to a faith that seems to be changing so much, to be more akin to the conservative Christians, whose philosophies frighten me a bit. I truly think that politics and religion need to stay separate. I hate how the two have merged so much in this country. I think one can practice religion (or not) and have a social and political life, that doesn't involve one's faith. I think one should. Call me naive or irrational, but I believe it's possible.

Maybe I'm not thinking clearly as it is two am and I can't sleep or maybe I'm just thinking rationally and know that I will always have issues and that's that. Perhaps I'll work through them.

I don't know where this all started. If it was something I was thinking about before I started my new novel or if it was something that came up as a result of it. Why did I ever give "Isabel" a twin brother who was a priest? I can't tell you the difficulty that has arisen just because of that. Not that it's a bad thing. It works for the character and I think I've created the right motivations and circumstances for him to chose his vocation. I want him to reflect a real person, just as I do Isabel-- and her issues. I think it's perfectly possible for two people to grow up in the same household and become two very different people. (I'm an only child, so maybe I'm wrong.) But I think her issues with her brother's choices for his life are very valid and very real. As the story develops, I see her growing and coming to accept and understand him for who he is, and I think he'll always accept her and love her sins and all.

It's funny how a short story that was supposed to help me heal a broken heart has changed into something so much more. I've practically dropped the initial plot point. I'm having a hard time trying to figure out where to fit it into the story now that story has changed so much since I started. I don't think there's room for that little scenario in the grand scheme of the story. I've already written a sequel to this novel-- though it's really the prequel--- but it has to be read afterward, as it ruins the big surprise in Isabel's story.
And that really came out of the fucking air. I couldn't believe it when I wrote that scene. It went from sappy chick lit to angsty drama in one quick sentence.



I've also created a whole universe based upon the characters (the female characters) in these three stories. Wouldn't it be cool to write four different stories based on these women? (Four sisters, their daughters, and their experiences.) My own version of Little Women. Heh.

I'm sort of in a weird place tonight and cannot sleep. I have a feeling I'll be dragging all day long tomorrow/today. I'm used to getting to bed at 2:00 these days. I've been writing or reading what I've written and so I'm not just sitting up doing nothing these late nights.

I have to admit that my stories are taking on a life of their own. I don't know if I can contain my characters. I should really try to sleep as I have to be up in 5 hours.

So far tonight I've tried the sleep thing twice, once at midnight and once at 1:43. Both times, while tired, I laid there unable to shut my mind down. 1. I have PMS. 2. I remembered something and it made me sad. 3. I have other stress, both rational and irrational stress going on right now. 4. I'm out of Sync with my sleeping habits. 2 is my bedtime these days. As I've been writing or editing, I've lost track of time. I don't have a lot of business right now and so I'm spending more and more time writing.

I think I'll take one of the dog's Benedryl tablets (Yes, they get the Benedryl for their allergies while I'll take Claritin) and hope it makes me drowsy. Maybe I'll function at a reasonably decent speed tomorrow.