A Funny Thing Happened: I'm A Speaker

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Funny thing happened last weekend while I was scrambling eggs. My cell rang—rather, it went into the Garth Brooks Calling Baton Rouge summons. I clicked. On the other end was a Bayou Writers’ Group board member asking if I would replace one of their conference speakers who had to cancel. I said no. I always say no when I’m hit with something totally unexpected. I have to think about things—or be talked into things. I have to roll the beginning, the middle, the end around in my mind. I have to play it out—the good, the bad and the ugly. After listening to my hubby tell me all the reasons I should—quoting me back to me in some cases—I called them back and accepted.

I haven’t slept since.

I have a sore throat.

I wheeze.

My chest feels like an elephant … well, you’ve seen that commercial.

It has been two years since I’ve stood in front of a group of writers and offered encouragement.  I’m not in that “place” anymore—if you know what I mean.

I’m still working on my talk. Well, I have a title. I keep visualizing my audience: all writers. New and experienced. Such a wide gap between the new writer and the experienced writer; between the literary writer and the romance writer. Often our needs are so different. Sure, we have a lot in common, but really, what do we have in common?

Fear?   Insecurity?  Procrastination?

Maybe not.  I’m bringing to mind several attendees who show no fear, who write with confidence and don’t have an ounce of insecurity—at least, they don’t let it show.

My talk is called The Power of The Made Up Mind. Doesn’t that say it all?

But what next?

I have a feeling I’m going to be the kind of speaker I hate; the one that gives a good title but a talk that has nothing to do with it. Ever wander into one of those sessions? I have—too many times.

Maybe I’ll just speak into the microphone: “Hubby says our conference—all writers’ meetings—should be held in graveyards so we’ll write with the end in sight. Now go home and pretend you have a death sentence."

Inspiring?

Think of me on Saturday. If I don’t lose my voice, I’ll be standing tall with Poet StellaNesanovich; Literary Agent Brooks Sherman; Linda Yezak, Acquisitions editor of Port Yonder Press; Mona Lisa Saloy, author and folklorist, and my personal hero-- freelance writing expert, Hope Clark, founder of Funds for Writers and author of Lowcountry Bribe.

I’ll speak at 9:10 for 50 minutes. ACK!  I feel my throat closing.

Tell me what you appreciate when hearing conference speakers--and tell me what drives you bananas!

Three Favorite Blogs

There are so many fantastic blogs I want to keep up with but how many can we read in a day and still work, write, socialize, live life?

I follow many but here are three I find interesting:

Working Stiffs is written by several crime writers. They blog about life, work and murder. I pop in periodically and I'm always intrigued by their stories and observations. I could spend hours reading their entries. Check out their latest about a young boy found in the Fox Chase section of Philadelphia back on February 25, 1957. Investigators haven't given up; this story is amazing.

I also enjoy The Graveyard Shift - written by Lee Lofland, a veteran police investigator. Lee is the author of Police Procedure and Investigation , an authoritative guide that provides insight into a cop's world.

My friend and Swamp Lily partner Jan shared this great poetry blog with me just this morning. There's a wealth of info here if you're a poetry lover. You can spend hours and hours exploring this site.

Last but certainly not least is THIS ONE and I can truthfully say, I visit Hope Clark's blog more than any others. It offers markets, how to, advice, opinions and encouragement--and a number of other things. If you like to keep up with contests and markets, large and small, then you should be hitting this blog every day or two and subscribing to Hope's newsletter called Funds for Writers. I don't think I'm being naive when I say that I trust everything that comes out of this woman's mouth... uh... fingertips...uh computer. Well, as Robert Blake said in his 70’s T.V. series Baretta,"You can take that to the bank." And many of Hope's followers do take their writing success to the bank, thanks to Hope Clark's info. Check her out.

I still want to tell you about my photog course in Houston and a number of other things, but I'm racing toward a deadline. More later. Promise.

What have you been doing?

Some Things Are Just Weird

I’m in Houston this week. Looking out my 11th floor window, I see a fountain, the freeway and constant movement. In fact, Houston seems always to be in a state of movement. Even in this hotel, there’s activity everywhere—employees trying to keep guests happy, men and women attending business seminars. I feel totally out of place until someone hollers, “Hello Mrs. Ferguson.” That happens quite often. My husband befriends everyone he meets so they’re very curious when the wife comes to town. I feel as though they’re checking me out to see what kind of woman is married to the friendly, kind, inquisitive, helpful, godly guy they see each week. Is she as nice as he is or is she a demanding snob? Is she worthy--because he gives the young clerk advice on business courses and she actually grabs a pen and takes notes. He looks at pictures of the plumbing fixtures one of the young men has chosen for his new home. He talks to the valets about their foreign homes. They’re surprised when he's actually heard of their small cities, towns, villages, and that he can share trivia about their government. He even went to the hospital to visit when one of them had brain surgery.

This isn’t the blog post I’d intended. I wanted to tell you about my word—a word that jumped out at me and claimed me. I know writers who claim, choose, pray about or grab hold of a word for each New Year. I’ve never done that—never claimed, chosen, prayed for a word to guide or inspire me through a new year—but I’ve been pretty curious about how all that comes about. Well… now I know how it comes about. It just does.

My word leaped out at me when I was reading something. Everything around it fell away and it’s the only word I saw. It meant something to me. I recognized it. I knew deep down in my gut that it was MY word and something that I would experience over and over again during 2011. Sounds crazy. My word just came today—not all nice and neat at midnight of December 31, 2010 so I could officially start the New Year with it. And though my word just claimed me today, I can look back over the past few weeks and see that I’ve been experiencing it since the first of the year in a number of ways. Want to know what it is? Sure you do!

REDISCOVER

In 2011 I’m going to rediscover myself and my love for writing. I’m going to rediscover my love for God, for life, my art, my dreams, my goals, my poetry, my novels and their characters and my friends.

Evidently, I’m going to rediscover a lot more because when I look out this 11th floor window, in spite of the constant movement, all I can see is the good of my husband.

REDISCOVER.

Do you have a word that symbolizes what your year might bring? Or a word that offers encouragement? Share!

A Few Thoughts and More Treasures

A lot of writing going on with my NaNo project but as you see in the right hand corner, only a little more than 6,000 words. Still, that's pretty good for me. I stayed up way too late last night.

Still browsing through boxes in the garage. I'm keeping much more than I'm throwing away. Amazing, the treasures I'm finding. A long letter from Redbook--a rejection, yes--but a rejection defining the why of it. I'm amazed that the Redbook editor traded three long, detailed letters with me. Looking back, I can see how close I was and can't help but feel I've squandered so many opportunities.

The first five pages of a novel (and short synopsis) of an idea for a romantic suspense. And I still like it. :) A completed romantic short story. I don't remember it but the characters have their own novel so maybe this short story was the beginning.

All these findings make me want to race to the BWG meeting on Saturday and tell everyone to find encouragement in every critique, in every rejection they receive; it's there if they look for it. Unfortunately, sometimes we don't recognize the good stuff until 20, 30, 40 years later.

I haven't found what I'm searching for: a huge folder of poems written when I fancied myself a poet. Where can it be? Garage boxes? Office boxes? One of the three file cabinets? Arggg, too much paper!

Good News! Saturday I have another Louisiana Saturday Night for you. An interview with a Louisiana novelist of crime fiction. And it's a good one. See you then.

What I'm Doing These Days

I've been so consumed with preparation for this Saturday's BWG meeting, that I haven't given any thought to blogging. Guess that really means I haven't had anything to say. Wrong!

I've finished Chapter One of a new novel and I'm so excited about it. I'm moving on to chapter Two. I have 100 rough pages and probably should go forward with the last 100, but you know me... gotta stop and revise before I can move on. My downfall.

I've got several really good interviews lined up. Louisiana authors are everywhere and I enjoy meeting them.

I can drive through town and point to places on my right and my left, and honestly say, "My daughter's resume is there, and there, and there, and there." Hopefully, someone will hire her soon. Please?

American Idol is back and I'm excited. Look at the hopefuls here. I thought I might have to forego this year if 'Bikini Girl' moved on to the next level. Whew! That was close.

I've written three poems, and received an encouraging rejection on one of them. I've submitted a memoir-type story to the Narrative Magazine contest. This periodical is so good. Check it out.

Oh yeah, I'm back to my roots and feelin' like a writer again. That happens when I follow my instinct and not the crowd.

Tell me what you're doing these days.