Sneaky Minds - IWSG August 2025

 

Welcome to IWSG Day. The goal of this blog hop is to share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a haven for insecure writers of all kinds. IWSG is the brainchild of our ninja leader Alex Cavanaugh. Thank you to August co-hosts: Ronel Janse van Vuuren, Natalie Aguirre, Sarah - The Faux Fountain Pen, and Olga Godim! To read other contributors, click For a list and links to all contributors, click here.

I’m not experienced enough to have an opinion on this month’s question about the publishing industry, so today, you get just—me— surprising myself.

I think I mentioned here that after writing four (frustratingly unpublished) novels, so far, nothing has inspired me enough to consider spending years devoted to a fifth.

This wasn’t so scary in April when I retired, because I still had to make edits to my fourth manuscript. In late June, I started querying it.

Oye. Such an exercise in hair pulling. Current count, nine submissions, two rejections, many, many, many more to go and well, each time I'm working on a query it kind of feels like when I worked for a living, except for the lack of constant interruption, and, yeah, well, I’m not getting paid. For sure, querying isn’t creative.

But the human mind is a sneaky thing, and in between queries, mine has been goading me.

“What? You’re not writing anything new? Well, then here. Let’s throw you a storm. Let’s make your fireplace leak and your little boat almost sink. Now, write a poem about it.”

“Um, okay?”

“Boring laps in the pool followed by walks on the beach. That’s good for another poem.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes. And by the way, repainting your bedroom from Sherwood green to Chamois white? There’s definitely a poem in that.”

“You think?”

“Yup.”

“Huh!”

“When you’re done, how about a poem about hummingbirds?”

“Aha. Gotcha. I already wrote that one.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Pull that sucker up on your laptop and give it an overhaul!”

And so it goes. I even wrote a poem inspired by an old poem I found on my hard drive. So while fiction has been non-existent over the last few months, unsolicited poems have muscled their way in. I get lost in them, spending as much time as it takes me to send out a query (and more!) tweaking one single line.

How do you make yourself move forward when writing is a struggle?

Not Work at All - IWSG July 2025

 

Welcome to IWSG Day. The goal of this blog hop is to share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a haven for insecure writers of all kinds. IWSG is the brainchild of our ninja leader Alex Cavanaugh. Thank you to July co-hosts:  Rebecca Douglass, Natalie Aguirre, Cathrina Constantine, and Louise Barbour. For a list and links to all contributors, click here.

Optional July question: Is there a genre you haven't tried writing in yet that you really want to try? If so, do you plan on trying it?

I don’t entertain significant thoughts about writing in a different genre. Occasionally I ponder taking blog posts from when I was writing regularly about life around me and combining them with my pictures to make my own little book, but pondering is as far as I get.

Speaking of the world around me, though, I’m finding it a new place post-retirement. For the past few weeks, I’ve woken up sans alarm, pondered life for a while and then popped out of bed to head to the (summer only) town pool. Adult lap swim is from 7:00 to 8:00 am. Given that my alarm used to go off at 5:30, it’s no hardship for me to yank on a suit and drive five minutes to dive in. I grew up swimming but haven’t had a chance to do so in forever. It feels like going back in time. After the laps, I head right to the beach, where I set a timer and walk for at least a half an hour. By the time I get home, there’s breakfast to eat, coffee to drink, planters to water, and as I write this post, queries to send.

Yep, the foot-dragger gave herself a deadline and finally started querying. The process is as hard as it’s always been, but now I have time to focus on the chore. In the past, I created my own query tracking sheets but this time I’m using Query Tracker. For $25 for the year, I gain full access to a database to identify agents and their preferred genres/wish lists, assess response rates, and to track submissions and replies. Before querying, I can see how active an agent is and can read comments from other writers in regard to their experiences with a particular individual. Query Tracker also offer tutorials on how to get the best out of the database, links to articles of interest, some of which have reinforced what I think I know, and others that have taught me things.

My plan is to send out a handful of queries over the next few weeks and then wait for a bit before assessing where I stand. It’s summer. Fourth of July is coming up. The world will be going on vacation. Inboxes will fill up. I get all that. But now that I have all the time, there is no excuse not to be diligent with this process. Perhaps putting that in print here will hold me accountable.

And there’s some good news. Even though querying is a challenge, I’ve rediscovered something. When you can sit down and focus on work you actually want to do, it doesn’t really feel like work at all.

Have you used Query Tracker? What has your experience been like?

And because I can... a photo. The beach at 8:15 am, on a recent walk

Always a Good Read - IWSG June 2025

 

Welcome to IWSG Day. The goal of this blog hop is to share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a haven for insecure writers of all kinds. IWSG is the brainchild of our ninja leader Alex Cavanaugh. Thank you to June co-hosts: PJ Colando, Pat Garcia, Kim Lajevardi, Melisa Maygrove, and Jean Davis. For a list and links to all contributors, click here.

Optional question for June - What were some books that impacted you as a child or young adult?

Last fall, my local library started a new book group. While working, I could never make the existing morning group, but this one met after hours, so I signed up. The focus was “gentle” reads and while the selected books varied in their “gentleness,” they were all stories I may have never encountered, except for one.  

Don’t laugh, but the choice for May was Anne of Green Gables. Readers of this blog may not be surprised that this story remains one of my all-time favorites. I’ve probably read it twenty times since eighth grade.

But while "Anne with an E" is so well known, folks may not know that the author, Lucy Montgomery, wrote seven sequels to Anne. Early in our marriage, my dear husband did some research and bought me the eight-book series as a Christmas present. I’ve purged a lot off my shelves, but those books will never go. Every several years I start the first book and I have to plan accordingly because nothing can stop me from binging on the rest. 

For those of you who don’t know, Anne of Green Gables is about a lonely orphan from Nova Scotia who uses her imagination to help her through the toils of her early life. She mistakenly lands with Matthew and Marilla, an elderly brother and sister who think they’re adopting a boy to help on their farm. Ultimately, they decide to keep her. Anne’s imagination gets her into a lot of trouble, but through her antics, she stimulates humanity in the stern couple, both of whom learn to love her as much as she ends up loving them. All sweet, all endearing, and the bonus is stunning description that makes me yearn to get to Prince Edward Island. It’s definitely a gentle read.

But Anne of Green Gables for an adult book group? Well. I guess? I mean, I was happy enough to read it again, but what about the other twenty  group members?

So there I was in our last meeting, defending Anne as other readers projected today’s diagnoses on her. “She must have had ADD,” one person said. "She definitely needed counseling," said another. Ugh, I thought. She’s fiction. How can you label a character from the late 1800’s with today’s manifestations?  In my opinion, she's just how she was written, adorable, trouble-prone, creative, imaginative Anne. But regardless of my thoughts, there was some hearty discussion and it ended like this. After each meeting, we score the book from one to five, with five being the best. The members of the book group are mixed in age and gender. Everyone with the exception of one person scored it five. It was by far the highest and most consistent rating of any book we read.

And, in case you are wondering, yes, I kept reading. (I can do this now! I’m retired!) I rocketed through the eight books this time, and was particularly touched by the last book, the story of Anne’s youngest daughter, a spoiled, happy-go-lucky teenager who matures during the painful years of WWI. I tell you. Anne of Green Gables and its sequels stand the test of time.

Spoiler alert. After our early May gathering, the librarian who ran the Gentle Reads Book Group retired with no replacement. Anne ended up being our last book.

What book from your past do you re-read?

Managing - IWSG May 2025

 

Welcome to IWSG Day. The goal of this blog hop is to share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a haven for insecure writers of all kinds. IWSG is the brainchild of our ninja leader Alex Cavanaugh. Thank you to May co-hosts:  Feather Stone, Janet Alcorn, Rebecca Douglass, Jemima Pett, and Pat Garcia!  For a list and links to all contributors, click here.

This month’s optional question: Some common fears writers share are rejection, failure, success, and lack of talent or ability. What are your greatest fears as a writer? How do you manage them?

My fears? Easy peasy. All of the above. How do I manage them? Well, that question provides some muddy grounds for introspection…

Remember how Dorie from Finding Nemo use to say “Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming?”

That’s me, I guess. A long time ago an acquaintance, a published author of fiction and non-fiction, said to me, “As long as you never give up, you’ll get there.”

I keep that advice front and forward, but sometimes a little voice inside me suggests it’s time to call the game on account of darkness. It’s time to hang up my typing fingers as it were. But then I think of the hours I’ve put in, and more importantly, of how much joy the writing has brought. It would be awful to let it all come to nothing. Besides, if I let myself drift away from my writing, I have zero doubt that eventually it will call me back. It’s a kind of addiction. The craving to write always lurks.

At the current time I’m probably in a writing lull, but it’s OK. Fulfilling a promise to myself, upon retirement I started working on the lessons from Walking in this World, by Julia Cameron. That means as soon as I wake up, I’m writing “Morning Pages,” three pages longhand. It’s a brain dump. Letting whatever is on my mind out. It’s not writing that will ever be published, but it’s writing. So if on a given day, I miss sitting down to work on something that’s theoretically publishable, at least I’ve written something. I’ve kept the neurons firing.

Sometimes I post things on IWSG to hold myself accountable. So here’s a confession. I have (very) slowly begun a list to where I want to query my current novel. It’s slow because Julia Cameron requires that I walk. I’m also having fun working in the garden and getting things done at my own pace. It's beyond marvelous not to have to cram all the “to do’s” into one weekend. Quite frankly, I plan to  luxuriate in it for a bit.

But in spite of how much I’m enjoying myself, let’s be truthful here. You would be correct to call these lovely distractions procrastination. File them under “Fear of failure.”

What are your writing fears and how do you address them?

Endings and Beginnings - IWSG April 2025

 

Welcome to IWSG Day. The goal of this blog hop is to share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a haven for insecure writers of all kinds. IWSG is the brainchild of our ninja leader Alex Cavanaugh. Thank you to April co-hosts: Jennifer Lane, L Diane Wolfe, Jenni Enzor, and Natalie Aguirre. For links to all contributors, click here.

This month’s optional question: What fantasy character would you like to fight, go on a quest with, or have a beer/glass of wine with?

I’m not big into fantasy so this question isn’t my bailiwick, but a butter beer with Hermione Granger might be kind of fun.

So, writing related. No. Sorry. Life related. 

This week marks a new era for me. 

I started this blog to deal with the emotional fallout related to unexpected job elimination from a long-term employer. Middle Passages led to some freelance writing and one of my freelance jobs resulted in an offer of a position for my town council on aging. When I accepted it I promised myself I’d keep writing, no matter what. I’m proud to have done that, getting up at 5:30 in the morning, five days a week to spend an hour writing before work. But on Friday April 4, I’ll be turning my alarm off permanently. At noon that day, I’ll be officially retired.

I let out a long breath as I typed that last sentence.

Being used to so much structure in my life, I’m not sure what shape unlimited free time will take, but I hope I’ll buckle down and focus on getting one of my darn books published. Over the last year while working on a revision for book #4 as well as one for book #2, I stopped doing anything query related. It left me disheartened and it was hard to write and query while working and keeping up a home, pretty-much singlehandedly.  

I’m honest enough to recognize that other people find a way to do it all. I however, have not.

That says something, and I know it. With all the time in the world, I wonder if I’ll call my own bluff and dedicate my energy toward publication. If anything, I’d love to shut off that nasty voice in my brain that says, “It’s not that you didn’t make time. You’re just not good enough.”

In the meantime, I do have one plan for early retirement. Fifteen years ago I worked through the lessons in The Artist’s Way, by Julia Cameron, which I’ve referred to so many times here in Middle Passages. Between morning pages, artist’s dates and the weekly lessons, I determined my future course. Without The Artist’s Way, I’m pretty sure my four novels would never have been written.  

The book sits on my bookshelf with other treasured reading. After a vacation down south to clear my head, I plan to open it up again.

 

The Half Full Glass - IWSG March 2025

 

Welcome to IWSG Day. The goal of this blog hop is to share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a haven for insecure writers of all kinds. IWSG is the brainchild of our ninja leader Alex Cavanaugh. The March co-hosts are Ronel Janse Van Vuuren, Pat Garcia, and  ME! For links to all contributors, click here.

This month’s optional question: If for one day you could be anyone or "thing" in the world, what would it be? Describe, tell why, and any themes, goals, or values they/it inspire in you.

This is a pretty creative question and since I don’t often get particularly introspective, I’m finding my answer hard to articulate, but here goes.

If I could be one “thing,” it would be the particular feeling I get in my heart during certain experiences. Without being cliché, although I suppose I am, it’s what I feel after waking on a February morning to see pink clouds behind skeleton trees and realizing the sun is coming up earlier. It’s the joy of discovery when I find the first Snow Drop in my early March garden. It’s the sound of seagulls as they soar over tidal mudflats. It’s the belly laugh I get from my adult daughter when, once again, one of us says what the other is thinking. (“Get out of my brain!” we yell at each other!) It’s the sad-joy I experience when I see a fleeting glimpse of my dear late husband in the gait of his brother who lives next door. It’s the kindness of the volunteers with whom I interact, who use their own time to drive senior citizens to medical appointments, prepare hot meals and deliver food to the homebound in my town. I could go on and on, but I suppose the feeling I’m trying to describe is gratitude for all the gifts I receive and witness on a daily basis. But it goes beyond gratitude. It’s the continued feeling of unexpectedness to these things and an all-encompassing delight that they are a part of my life. The newness never goes away.

I’m aware as a general rule I’m pretty naïve, but humor me here. There are so very many people in the world experiencing challenges beyond anything I can imagine. If I could, I’d infuse my feeling into every being across the world,  so that everyone could experience positivity even when things look beyond bleak. 

If you could be any one or thing, what would you choose?

Back to the Future - IWSG February 2025

 

 Welcome to IWSG Day. The goal of this blog hop is to share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a haven for insecure writers of all kinds. IWSG is the brainchild of our ninja leader Alex Cavanaugh. Co-hosts for February are Joylene Nowell Butler, Louise Barbour, and Tyrean Martinson. For links to all contributors, click here.

February optional question - Is there a story or book you've written you want to/wish you could go back and change?

Funny you should ask. The first book I ever tried to write was such a disaster I put it away, took a couple of writing classes, and moved on to other things. When I thought of that first attempt at all it was only to consider how not being able to write it propelled me forward.

But over a year ago, I found myself at a low point. I had no interest in starting anything new but wanted to keep writing. Rifling through a drawer, I discovered a printout of that first muddle. Sorry to say, it was even worse than I remembered. But the timing was good. Pulling that mess together would certainly involve a challenge.

Today, what was once a wreck of a novel is now a solid piece of work I like. The red-ink comments of a trusted reader are sitting beside my computer. She suggested I rewrite one scene to make the stakes higher, but I'm happy to say that other than that, her feedback was positive, her changes few.

Honestly, I thought this book was a lost cause. Even now I’m surprised I had the nerve to dive into it again. So in answer to this month's question, I can’t say I “wished” to return to this particular story, but I’m delighted I proved to myself that I could.

Do you have stories you wished you could go back and change?

A Tribute - IWSG January 2025

 Welcome to IWSG Day. The goal of this blog hop is to share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a haven for insecure writers of all kinds. IWSG is the brainchild of Alex Cavanaugh. Co-hosts for the January 8 posting of the IWSG are Rebecca Douglass, Beth Camp,  Natalie @ Literary Rambles  and me! For links to all contributors, click here.

This month’s optional question: Describe someone you admired when you were a child. Did your opinion of that person change when you grew up?

The summer I turned sixteen, I spent two months living with my best friend who’d moved one state over when her father purchased a country inn. Looking back on it, I think she was having trouble settling and  her parents imported me to help with that. Whatever. We missed each other like crazy and the plan was we'd both waitress in the inn dining room while having the summer together.

Starting my first paying job in a town where I knew no one but my friend was a bold step for shy me. After my first breakfast shift answering to a barking cook who had zero patience for a scared teenager, I climbed the stairs ready to flop on my bed for a good cry. But in the hall in front of my room, which happened to be next to the laundry area, I encountered a freckle-faced woman holding a bundle of sheets. Her face broke out into a welcoming smile and she greeted me by name, as if she'd been waiting to meet me. I have no idea if she recognized how miserable I was, but if someone asked me to describe an experience representing kindness, it would be that moment.

Kitty was a sort of Jill-of-all-trades around the inn and meeting her was the first thing that gave me comfort during those early awkward days away from home. Every time I saw her she offered me that same brilliant smile. Ultimately and regardless of a fifteen-year age difference, the two of us became friends.

I spent two summers working at the inn and afterwards became a prolific letter writer to folks I met there. Even then I expressed myself better in writing, and foremost and especially, I wrote to Kitty. She rarely wrote back but called on the phone and reached out to me when she was in my area. She invited me to her home on many occasions where we picked blueberries and blackberries in her yard. She and a friend traveled to see me when I was in college in Vermont, and after I graduated, she visited when I worked my last “summer job” on Martha’s Vineyard. We went to lunch when she’d come for appointments while I was employed in the city, and I remember being tickled when she commented about how grown up and professional I looked. The day after Christmas one year, I brought the man who ultimately became my husband up to meet her. Years later, after training as a nurse, she quizzed me when my young daughter and I visited her and she learned I’d had serious  surgery.

And then, as it is wont to do, life happened. A full-time working Mom, I crammed my daughter’s activities, home management, and family demands into the precious little free time I had. Letter-writing (or emailing at that point) landed lower on the priority scale and my regular communication with Kitty petered out. But always, I made sure to write a detailed Christmas letter, and most years, I got a long one back. Though I hadn’t spoken to her for longer than I care to remember, there’s Facebook, and when she discovered I’d lost my husband she called, telling me how even though we’d reached the ages we had, she’d always consider me her “little friend.”

I keep the silver bracelet she gave me for my seventeenth birthday in my jewelry box. I carefully hand wash the one wine glass remaining from a picnic set she sent as a wedding present, thinking of my dear friend every time I use it. These days, I’ve whittled what used to be an extensive Christmas card list down to three, but as always, the first one I wrote this year was to Kitty.

It’s been fifty years since that first summer I encountered her in the hallway, but even now, I think of her smile when I greet people, trying to replicate it with a warmth that starts in my eyes. I know I wore it on my face when I checked my mailbox last week and found her Christmas card inside.

Who had an impact on your life growing up?