Category Archives: Encouragement

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35 Days to 35: Betting on the Impossible

Now that we’ve fully accepted the rejection of our manuscript from the printer by eating our comfort food, venting our true feelings, and staring numbly into space, we need to move on.

Rachael and I exchanged a flurry of phone calls and text messages when the news broke, culminating in a two plus hour meeting going over the manuscript and discussing our options. There were several on the table, but only one that we both felt comfortable with.

Self-publishing.

Not that we don’t want to send off the manuscript to other publishers, or that we think it will get turned down. We do, and we don’t know. It might get turned down, it might not.

Mostly, it comes down to timing. If our last experience is any indication, if we sent the book off and got accepted by another publisher this very week, it could be a year to eighteen months before it is actually printed and released. This September, it will be the five year anniversary of the start of filming “No Lost Cause.”
When we penned the book, it had only been three. If things don’t happen soon, our cute little “Behind the Scenes” companion piece to the movie is going to be better categorized as a memoir.
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35 Days to 35: Dealing with Rejection

For Cheryl Foster, who asked to read something Inspirational.

What do you do when you’re just not wanted?

I had intended to start my “Birthday Blogs” on Feb. 1st, full of cute musings, funny stories, and cat pictures. But as I just had a pretty big disappointment happen, I realized that today is exactly 35 days til I turn 35, so now is just as good a time as any to get real.

You know those bloggers/speakers/mega personalities that encourage you by saying, “Don’t give up!” as they recline on a sofa made from money and pick their teeth with golden toothpicks after eating a salad of shredded cash?

I’m not one of those people.

I’m not a millionaire. I’m not even a thousandaire. I might be a hundredaire. I do bring in tens of dollars a week.

But I’m going to tell you not to give up; and given my circumstances, I’m probably going to sound ridiculous while I say it.  What kind of person encourages people when they’re not technically (read financially) successful yet?
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Allergic to Love: A Simon Story

If you’ve ever wondered about the power of positive words, allow me to reintroduce Simon. For those of you who haven’t yet met him, look no further than the article entitled, “Simon Sees A Murder.” It’s two below this one. I’ll wait while you catch up.

………..

Great. Now that you know how he feels about bath time, let me tell you a little bit more about his origin story. When I would visit him at the Humane Society before adopting him, he would run to me, leap into my lap, flip over on his back and purr. I was assured that he had ‘chosen’ me for his owner, and it seemed that was true.

Same

Love means exposing your belly and hanging upside down.

However, when I took him home, something strange happened. He got tiny bumps all over his little body, and whenever I would try to pet him, he would purr furiously and LOUDLY, but immediately begin to choke and run away. I took him to the vet, got some medicine, and his bumps cleared up, but not the purr/choke issue.

I finally figured out that when I tried to pet him, he became so overwhelmed with happiness, that his purr motor was ‘overheating’ and choking him, thus causing him to run away.

He was literally becoming allergic to love.
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Climbing the Mountain

As someone who seemingly has unceasing dreams and aspirations, I can honestly say I understand the drive, the passion and the insanity that a big dream, or even a calling, can inflict upon the poor soul who dared to have it in the first place.

In 2012, my mother, Rebekah, was inflicted by such a calling. She called me and told me she had an idea for a story, maybe even a novel. She outlined the whole thing for me and then laughed as she told me I should write it for her. To her shock and dismay, I turned her down. “That’s the thing about a dream, Mom. It has to be lived out by the person who has it. Nobody else can do it for you.”

“But I don’t know how!” she replied. I reminded her that my first film was made with little more knowledge than that. But I learned along the way, and there was one thing I was certain of. If I could do it, she could do it. While I knew it would be scary for her, I also knew that there was no replacement for the euphoria she would feel when she finished. Even if, as she said she feared, no one ever read it, it would be her own personal scaled mountain.

And the view would be glorious.

Once she realized I was serious when I said I wasn’t going to write it for her, she decided she would tackle that mountain. On December 27th, 2012, she began her story.

Now, December 27, 2014, exactly two years, and hundreds of hours of writing, researching, and rewriting later, not only does she have a completed book, but she has a SECOND book fully drafted. On November 1st of this year, she entered NaNoWriMo, which is short for “National Novel Writing Month.” The goal is to draft a 50k word novel in 30 days or less.

She finished in 21.

Back in July, I asked her to sit down and answer a few questions about the book. I told her I would publish them when the book became available. This is that interview.
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The Coldest Day

“If ever we are going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed; you cannot drink grapes. Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed.”– Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest.

Today’s weather has been a gift.

Four years ago, on October 2 and 3 of 2010, I was part of the production team shooting two scenes for my very first independent feature film, No Lost Cause. The weather was abysmal. Overcast skies tinted everything a pale blue-grey, and the air had moved beyond crisp and autumnal into the slicing cold of deepest winter.

The scene called for our actors to play basketball, while wearing shorts and sleeveless tops. The crew was in heavy overcoats and wrapped in layers and these two men were left with the acting job of their young lives: warm.

There were many shooting days, but these two stand out because they were the absolute worst weather we experienced, and October 3 is my Grandfather’s birthday. Which is why I notice the weather today and why I am particularly reveling in it’s balmy breeze. I’ve left the window open nearly all day, and I’ve made the time to sit on my front porch and read…soaking in the last possible heat before another rumored long and difficult winter begins.
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A Very Merry Happy Half-Birthday, to Me

Today is my half-birthday. If you were born in the frozen tundra of late February like I was, you might understand why, while I don’t necessarily celebrate it, I do enjoy acknowledging the day. I spent it with some of the people I love,  doing things I love.

It’s also begins the six month countdown to the middle of my thirties. The first five years (so far) have been full of unexpected adventure and some incredible sadness. I started working in film, co-authored a book, flew in a plane for the first time, traveled (a lot!) went back to acting on the stage after a very long hiatus, co-founded a theatre, and gained a surrogate niece. I also lost my two very best furry friends and my Grandmother.
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Keep Blooming

Back in May, I bought a bunch of flowers for my front porch. I don’t have a very green thumb, so I have to buy things that will grow despite me, not because of me. Most of my flowers have done really well…a few have withered, but most have flourished without incident.

Except for the little yellow flower in the white pot. I found a pretty wrought iron flower stand in the garage and a a pot that “just fit.” I selected just the right flower to put in the pot and landed on a pretty yellow one. It seemed happy, and something I’d like visitors to look at before they walked through the front door. A perfect little flower in a perfect little pot.

Had I but known.

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An Evening with Deana

This entry is from a journal I keep on occasion called, “Every Day Moments.” It was begun during a time when I needed to see the good in every day situations to cope with grief.

My beloved pet cat Sammy passed away about six weeks prior to this entry. His sister Deana, mentioned below, passed away on January 2nd of this year. Both had kidney issues. 

They were only in my life for just over four years, but brought me immeasurable joy, and I miss them. Occasionally, I will share more memories as they come to mind.

May 31st, 2013

“The day after Sammy passed, I started visiting the Humane Society once a week after work. I stood there, desolate, and told them I just needed to hold a black cat. It was the best way I knew how to cope and still function. I met many, many beautiful souls there. I’ll tell their stories another day.

Today, after a long day of work cleaning and being cooped up indoors, I came home and let all my remaining animals outside. Right now that total stands at two dogs and one cat, but tomorrow that will change. Two sweet black male cats are coming home to live with me. I know my two new friends won’t be able to replace Sam, but I’m hoping it will help me move forward.

As I sat down on the ledge of flowers we planted near his grave, I sighed. I know it’s silly and probably pointless, but every time I pass his grave I want to to, or do, say “Hi Sam.” For nearly four years, I said that every time I saw him, and I still miss saying it.

Deana followed close behind me, as usual. Whenever we go to that area of the garden, she always ends up sitting on the stone marker. Do I think she knows Sammy’s there? No; but it moves me when I see her perched there. I do think she sleeps under the couch now because that’s where he slept. Knowing things will change tomorrow, I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her tonight.

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