Entry 61: Listening to the Wind

I’ve never been good about keeping a journal. It all boils down to consistency. There are days when I skip making an entry. Life can crowd out the time I need to write down my thoughts about a day’s events. I’ve also been reluctant to pose as an expert on the writing process. If I knew anything of value about writing, my work would already be in print. I went out on a skinny limb of a tall in 2022 when I shared my 365 days of thankfulness. The exercise forced me to put myself out there with my soft belly exposed. Thank you for joining me on my journey in the written word. Therefore, I plan to keep a journal in 2023 to document my progress. I will call Entry 61: Listening to the Wind.

Note: I consider editing an important part of the writing process. Editing is where all the artistry happens.

My morning writing before I started Entry 61: Listening to the Wind

I enjoyed working on Amazing Buchanan and the Beast this morning. I am shocked at how much of the NaNoWriMo version I am ditching. The Wind is pretty intense today. It knocked the table on our patio over and righted it again. I think that’s what I’m doing in this rewrite. I am blowing over the original story and then sitting back on its feet again. For everything I remove, I add something better. Another thing I did was introduce the other women who will appear throughout this series I plan to write. I actually have the first draft of one of these books finished.

Late last night, I worked on a couple of Bop poems. I looked over them this morning, and I think I am ready to move on to another style. I feel clumsy when I write these.

The book I am currently reading right now and Entry 61: Listening to the Wind

Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina is lumbering along right now. There is a long marriage ceremony to read through. The story will pick up soon because Anna and Vronsky have spent three months living abroad. Vronsky is bored. Who would have guessed? He has taken up painting but has given it up already. Levin and Kitty take three months to get used to married life, and they are anything but bored.

There are certain things I noticed about the way Tolstoy writes. He can jump to as many as three points of view in the same chapter. He writes in the third person and can climb into his character’s heads, so he knows what they are thinking. I still don’t think a contemporary writer could get away with that today.

What I’m listening to right now and 

I was in the mood for classical music this morning, so I put 25 Tchaikovsky Favorites on the stereo. I never cared much about this syle of music while I was growing up because I was not too fond of it because I was never exposed to it. My father-in-law passed away, and we had the job of cleaning out his apartment. He left behind dozens of CDs, and I kept a few I like to listen to when I’m in the mood.

The thing I am most thankful for at this moment.

I am glad I could navigate my morning pages without hating everything I wrote. I didn’t get much sleep last night. When I did, I had strange dreams.

The dream I remember from last night centered around my job working at the Welcome Center at the university where I worked before I retired. Joe Biden was supposed to speak, so many important people were milling around. Berney Sanders called and wanted me to get someone I had never heard of to come to the phone. I told Berney I didn’t recognize the name or whom he was talking about, so it would be impossible to find him. He said I couldn’t miss the guy because he looked like Elmer Fudd. The big problem was that everyone in attendance looked like Elmer Fudd. I finally located the person in question, and the reason Sanders wanted me to find him was so ridiculous that the guy got mad at me for bothering him.

This old lady says

Dream interpretation must be a difficult profession. I wouldn’t want to attempt to decipher the tangled mess I dream about, but I know I always have nightmares about the former place where I worked. My guess is I have unresolved issues with the establishment.

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!

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Published by henhouselady

I am the author of Saving the Hen House. I didn't know when I started it would turn into a series. I love to ride motorcycles, the blues, my family, and going on adventures. This old hen rocks.

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