So this was 40

So this is my thought process.  I’m sitting on the back porch trying to kick off some marketing for my writing.  It has been an easy thing to procrastinate as I settle into my new job, get distracted by the frenzy of other creativity, and await a design.  But it is the time of the annual discount/giveaway on Smashwords so I thought I would update An Ever Fixed Mark, include a chapter excerpt, and see if a solicitation for emails yields anything. 

Marketing for a book is hard work.  Harder than writing the damn soul sucking thing.  So I sit here in the waning light of day and realize the twinkly lights on the back porch aren’t enough to type up my author’s note and I start thinking about other promotional copy.  Blogs.  I haven’t written a blog in so long.  So long.  Wasn’t I just writing a lot of them a year ago?  Well, definitely two years ago as I started a countdown to 40.  I gave up on that when inspiration seized my brain (and theater).  But I realized I gave myself such a big buildup to the turn of one predicating number of my age to another… so why not contemplate the other side of it?  Especially as birthday #41 rapidly approaches.

Wow.  What a year.

It sucked in some major ways.  In the banal, unoriginal way a life can suck.  I hated my job.  Backstabbing bitches.  Getting that annoying flu that doesn’t allow for much sleep.  Petty grievances that are annoying because you know in the grand scheme of things they aren’t that bad.  Not when you look at some headlines or hear news from a loved one’s much more real struggle.  And the fact is, they all got better.  Well mostly.  Some I just learned to deal with a few deep breaths and the recognition of other people’s life sucking moments.  I got a new job and over the flu.  So you can maybe guess what I mean.

I’m not going to linger there, because as I look back on the last eleven months, I have to say it has been pretty great.

Here are some highlights.

1. I turned 40 in London.  My favorite city.  I got to see Chiwetel Ejiofor and Sinead Cusack live on stage that weekend.  I saw the Magna Carta.  I got a 99p cone (that wasn’t 99p).

  It was the end to a life altering trip.  I never really felt the yearning or kinship to the diaspora of my ancestors so deeply.  But now I look at those green misty hills and know where I hope to spend age 50, for much more of a duration than a couple weeks.  That trip also affected me in a way I didn’t expect…

2. Any regular reader or voyeur of my Facebook might have noticed my relative silence on the presidential election this year.  I’ve written about this and spoken to those who care already. But picking a fight on social media no longer makes sense to me.  Aside from the fact I saw one debate get horribly out of control this year, I really want to disengage from the vitriol.  When we get caught up in the differences, we forget the overwhelming commonalities.  And then there are walls like this that get locked every night.

3. Okay.  Enough of that.  Well maybe not.  I will say this.  All that political angst I have started to direct into my novels.  Granted, I started this project at age 39.  But it didn’t stop.  And that is its own accomplishment.  With some admitted distractions and detours, I still get up every morning an hour-ish early to write.  I have one novel nearly complete (beta readers still wanted) and am plunging into the research and escalating scenes of the next.  I never had much interest in the American Revolution.  Maybe it is the current political climate.  Maybe it the fact Billy Elliot is on Turn.  But now I find the tension and danger and forgotten history of how our country came to be positively riveting.  Hopefully that will translate into this novel.  Before I move on to the early 20^th century and the manufacture of corsets and Catholic culture of Worcester.  The important part of this item on my list is that I am still writing.  Even when I feel like I don’t want to, I make myself.  And it is, I think, the way I get to have that life at age 50.

4. I got a dog.  My Sadie.  She’s sitting on the corner of the porch right now, sniffing the breeze and watching the shadows I don’t see on the dusky back yard.  She whimpers… because she is still such a delicate puppy, traumatized by something on the beaches of Puerto Rico.  She is my fur baby.  I am the human with whom she feels safest and happiest.  I wanted a dog for a long, long while.  This was the year I made the choice to make the changes to bring her home.  And it was meant to be.

5. Theater took over my life again.  Of this I am not entirely proud.  I told myself I would never let it be so important I let other things fall by the by.  I’ve done that – including and most regretfully – my writing.  But there are highlights worth celebrating.  I really enjoy my Friday night script readings.  It is one of the best things of art, sharing a story and discussing different ideas without acrimony.  I was really excited that I got to bring a play I found in London (Mermaid) and provoked diverse thoughts and excitement around it.  I was thrilled by the turnout for Shakespeare… but I’m not doing Shakespeare.  I’ve gotten swept up in a lot of different projects and politics.  There was some deeply hurtful backlash delivered to me when I took a stand against bullies, a betrayal that still rattles my self-confidence.  But the other end of it and the reason I don’t just give it all up are those delicious moments of human connection and creative triumph.  I got to direct a children’s play again, reminding me of the importance of being on a stage – giving someone a voice and a place to belong.  There were cast parties and laughter and many sleepless nights after shows (a major contribution to that flu I mentioned).  There will be more of this in the fall and a show (that while not Shakespeare) will fuel my inspiration.

6. A new job.  I made a scary choice in April to just quit.  I got to a point where I looked forward to Fridays so there would be two days when I didn’t have to go to work, only to wake up Saturday already dreading Monday.  It affected my health, my productivity, my desire to socialize, and so much of my bandwith.  I am lucky I have so many things in my life that it didn’t defeat me completely… but it was bad.  A lesson… once the distance of a little more time comes between me and then to recognize the warning of how not to treat other people.   There is also the lesson that the universe conspired as I held my breath towards uncertainty, I landed in a new job.  In Fitchburg.  It reminds me a lot of my first job at Higgins Armory, where people all work together and pitch in.  No ego.  A lot of love for the community.  And very little pretense.  I’m a happier person.

So that is what 40 has been thus far.  I still have another four weeks until the next birthday.  I confess I’m a little sulky these days because I’m not counting down to my trip, but it is a yearning I can give my character.  I have some house projects making progress.  And I have some blocking to start to consider… well, not now.  Maybe later.

Now I’ll enjoy this Chardonnay, the dog curled up beside me (we’ve moved into the living room because the mosquitoes found their way through the screens), and the cello from the soundtrack I like more than the show it accompanies.  

All told, life is good.