Well I have to admit [again] I haven’t been very productive as a writer lately; well not in a creative capacity.
I could blame it on the move after selling our fishing shack in Port Lavaca.
I can blame it on the new pups our daughter gave us.
I do blame it on a lot of things, heck the heat here in Texas by itself is an acceptable excuse [and I have lots of excuses] but the truth is…
in my spare time …
I’ve been TikTok’ing.
I know!!! Oh the shock!! The shame!!
I stay up late nearly every blasted night gobbling up this stuff like a big man eating biscuits and gravy.
Some of you know my TikTok account has been deleted more than once but I keep going back.
Hardheaded??Opinionated? Determined?
All of the above.
But this time I am curbing my enthusiasm.
This time The Real Janna Hill has learned a lesson or two.
So hopefully TikTok won’t put me in time out or evict me again; after all my demeanor is milder now – not so anti ______ – not so confrontational – not so spicy.
Yeah I’m more like a lovely bowl of covert cold oatmeal – with an agenda nothing but optimism.
Let me first assure you I am not in a funk nor am I suffering from writerâs block.
On the contrary, potential stories abound!! I say potential because none have made it past my imagination.
In the garden, the grocery store, in front of the television or at a restaurantâŚ.
The list goes on forever.
So this morning as I was rocking and sipping my coffee (without spilling a drop), I asked myself,
Self, why havenât you written a damn thing ???No new books, not even a short story⌠Not so much as a blog post since April, and by the way you failed miserably at supporting NPM.
I pondered the question while I kept rocking and sipping, listening to the birds, watching the butterflies in the Mimosa tree and waiting for a response.
Finally self answered. Well, (in no chronological order) letâs see...
You got older and slower so multi-tasking got a little harder.
Not nearly enough candles.
You had a birthday and Motherâs Day that went on for weeks-because you have some awesome ass kids.
You had Covid twiceâŚ
Your oldest brother died and it is still a painful and fresh woundâŚ
Remember a large portion oflast year was consumed when the home had to be gutted and restored due to the flood after the freeze. And the fishing shack had to have all of the pipes replaceddue to the same freeze.
The economy has put a strain on your finances so youâve had to seriously reconstruct your retirement- and even put the fishing shack up for sale.
You chose to spend a significant amount of time mentoring and advocating for others because you know how it can beâŚ
You spend a lot of time âworkingâ at the pond and in the yard and gardens. But honestly you âmeanderâ as much as you work.
Your dog died and you got a new kittenâŚ.
After listening to self for a minute, I said Oookay, and I didnât feel too bad.
But then the selfish self had to wonder⌠am I still relevant? Not that I base my self worth on my writing but⌠you know.
So I typed my name and search-engined myself.
Great. At least I still appear in the www sphere.
But I found a piece of me in a place I had not heard of.
If you donât hear much from me it is safe to assume I am probably wandering in the woods or on the beach or working on a story even if it is in my head.
Ah I vaguely recall my start as an independent writer; it almost seems like a lifetime ago.
I canât even remember how I found [the oddly named] Smashwords, but I am glad we connected. Mark Cokerâs publishing platform really simplified my life.
And then Draft2Digital with Books2Read came along with their pretty little layouts and boom I had a new crush. And a new distributor.
But I never left Smashwords.
By the way, it is true Smashwords and Draft2Digital are merging and I think thatâs a good thing.
Iâm not sure if Smashwordâs support of the annual Read an eBook will continue in the years to come, but it is going on right now through March 12th. I, of course, am participating. Several of my books are available free or at a drastically reduced price. Just scroll through and check it out.
I believe The Perpetual Series was the first, or one of the first books I published with Smashwords; that was in 2013. Can you believe that?
I recall making the cover from a photograph I had taken of a flower blooming in the yard. Sadly, that flower never returned.
My apologies for not blogging more but I have seriously been busy. Iâm talking BiZZy!
We are just getting the house back to normal after Februaryâs winter storm, Uri. Iâm not sure why itâs (unofficially) referred to as Uri? đ§
I did a web search and unless I overlooked a reasonable definition-I found nothing that applied to the ice storm. Feel free to educate me.
Anywho we are getting back to normal. Haller-lu-ya!!
[doing the happy dance]
So before I get busy this morning getting the yard and pond back in shape I will leave you with a #TBT.
A Little More Time was written in 1980 something, originally published in Pose Prose & Poems in 1998 and republished in the 2017 poetic memoir called Getting Me Back
A Little More Time
Thereâs an eagle out there soaring And my best friend is out whoring
Turning tricks of any kind
Doing anything to make a dime God forgive her for the crime
All she needs is a little more time.
On the roof three stories high
A junky cries and begs to die
Ainât had a fix in several days Swears he canât go on this way
Across the street a church bell chimes
Grant us please a little more time.
An old man sick and dying
Alone with no one crying
He grieves for all the pain heâs caused
For all the people that heâs lost
Outside the window painted mimes All rushing for a little more time
A woman labors down the hall
Her anguish echoes through the wall
But soon a laughter takes its place When she looks upon the babyâs face
We are still months away from NPM and poetry discussions are abuzz. I love it!
Iâm not even upset that one âgenreâ is dissing the other â I am just happy poetry is being discussed.
I clicked on a link/interview that was shared with a member of the Horror Writerâs Association and then BOOM I was knee deep in reading, searching and lurking a dozen other sites.
I [honestly] never considered a genre when writing poetry and probably couldnât categorize if my life depended on it. But [speaking of dissing] Iâll share Thoughts on Writing from Getting Me Back.
Thoughts on Writing (The Requirements of an Author)
Desire: A congenital need to tell the story.
Determination: It is not enough to walk a couple of blocks or run five miles on a treadmill, come prepared to hike the Himalayas and explore the abyss.
An exoskeleton: A thick skin will not suffice â no indeed. Colleagues and critics are apt in the sadistic art of shaving and burning the thickest of flesh; their tireless wheel of pumice leaving the toughest callouses raw and bleeding. They will thin your skin; get beneath it and prove your vulnerabilities. Like a flesh eating bacteria they will consume you â kill you if you let them.
A poker face: Never let them see you sweat.
Gratitude: Because no one owes you anything!
Grace: For the rise and the inevitable fall.
Pills and booze and smoke: Because it is a hard and hateful world and you are not a god-damned ant.
The Real Janna Hill 