You have asked for a kick in the ass, and I am going to provide a kick in the ass.  I’ve been mentally tossing around starting this for a bit, but Lacie’s comment was the tipping point.

I am starting a multi-dimensional online writing project.  It’s going to be a listserv as well as random posts.  And it’s called Prompt-ly.

Wait, you say.  I am already part of an online writing group.  Well, this is not actually an online writing group.  If you want to do that, I think you should join the one at Too Many Fish to Fry called the Pomegranate Society (leave a comment in that post to be added to that online writing workshop).  That’s a place to exchange actual pieces of writing and support each other in publishing efforts.

This is not that.

What Prompt-ly is:

• A listserv with blog prompts and other writing project ideas presented by me as well as other members.  In other words, all members can float out a random question that people can use as a diving board for a post (such as: “what is the scariest thing you’ve ever done?”).  There may be one prompt a day or there may be many.  You pick and choose if you want to use them or delete them.
• A receptacle to pass along hot news stories that you think others might like to write about too [this is the listserv].
• An email list where you can debate hot ideas and see if they’re actually post-worthy [this is the listserv].
• A space to send a blog post url and ask for feedback about a post that didn’t get a lot of comments [this is the listserv].
• A space to say: “crappers, I’m about to post this but want a second opinion before it goes live because I’m worried I may offend people.” [this is the listserv].
• And every once in a while, Prompt-ly will be a blog post that will pass along ideas on publishing news or how-to advice, all coming from authors, publishers, editors, and agents.  I’ll collect up questions and answer them.  Or it will simply be a writing exercise or idea to light a brand new fire under your ass [these are the blog posts].

See, listserv and blog posts.

LISTSERV

You don’t need to join the listserv to participate, BUT I have a feeling that the majority of the information will be passed along in that space vs. here on Stirrup Queens.  This is the group’s homepage:

PROMPT-LY

Just click there if you want to join.  All members will be approved in order to keep spam off the list.  The membership request asks you to provide your blog url if you have one.  You don’t need to have a blog to join since some people will be using the list to work on other writing projects such as books or magazine articles.

The list is open, meaning; the majority of members will probably come from the ALI community simply because I am in the ALI community, and I can keep the list ALI-friendly as the moderator.  But anyone is welcome to join: men, women, young, old, gay, straight, talented, and total bores.  By which I mean that I’ll obviously float IF-related news stories to the list, but I also may float something interesting I read on Jezebel that someone might want to use as a springboard to a blog post.

Here are things that are okay to post on the list:

• Blog post prompts.
• Links to news stories or opinion posts that may spark a blog post idea for another person.
• Whole posts you want an opinion on before you hit publish (not everyone will answer you, but hopefully one or two will give you their opinion).
• A link to your own blog post that you’d like some feedback on.
• Questions about writing or publishing.
• Questions about blogging — from the technical side of things such as which software to use to thoughts about social media sites to worries about commenting etiquette.
• Questions about a hot idea that you want to write about but want some feedback on first.
• Personal writing, publishing, or book news.

Here are things that are not okay to do on the list:

• Berate or belittle someone.
• Offer non-constructive criticism.
• Steal another person’s idea and claim it as your own.
• Spam.
• Only use the list to promote your own work without giving back anything to the community by way of throwing out ideas or giving someone else feedback.  In other words, if you’re sending news about your book to the list, you must also participate in other ways such as answering people’s questions.  It’s a community — help has to flow in all directions.
• This is also not a writing workshop (see the link above to Too Many Fish to Fry if you’re interested in that).

BLOG POSTS

The posts will be infrequent (maybe once a month or every other week).  But if you do have specific writing questions that weren’t answered my DIY MFA series, especially ones about the how-tos of blogging, traffic building, of commenting, send them my way in an email with Prompt-ly in the subject line and I’ll answer it in the next post.

So that’s it.  Prompt-ly.  A fire lit under your ass to get you to write more.  Because the only way to become a good writer is to actually do it.

You in?

On Monday, I was looking out the window, waiting for the Fed Ex man, when I noticed that someone had left an enormous black hose over our top step.  Our own garden hose is green, so I knew that it wasn’t someone borrowing our own, but my first thought was that my neighbour must be using our water spigot outside and maybe I should go see if they’re washing their car and get in on the car washing action.

And then the hose started to move.

And I realized that it wasn’t a hose and it wasn’t our neighbour borrowing our water, it was AN ENORMOUS BLACK SNAKE!

I watched in horror as it writhed and slithered on the top step.  From the angle I was at, I couldn’t tell exactly where it was moving, but it looked like it was entering the space between the front door and the screen door.  I flipped out and called Josh, who was about a 45 minute drive away, and screamed into the phone that there is a SNAKE ABOUT TO COME INTO OUR HOUSE AND KILL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

He actually sounded a little panicked by this news, namely because we don’t live in a snake-y area.  In fact, this is my first time seeing a snake in our area.  The last snake I saw was about two feet long and totally skinny, chilling on the hiking trail in Catoctin.  This snake was between four and five feet long and thick.  Like this.

I called animal control and they essentially told me that they didn’t give a shit because rat snakes are not poisonous.  They told me to open the door and knock it out with a broom.  Are you fucking kidding me?  Can you hear the panic in my voice?  Do I sound like the type of person who is going to open the door?

I ran back to the window, now unable to see the snake, and noticed that two nice missionaries were walking up and down our street, neat shirts and backpacks, knocking on people’s doors.  I was about to open my window and ask if they’d help move the snake when the Fed Ex man arrived.  I hysterically told him through the door that I couldn’t accept my package because there was an enormous snake between my front door and the screen and could he please please please help me?

He opened the screen door and examined the area and told me the snake was gone.  He couldn’t stop laughing as I went outside and looked around the area.  He was right — the snake was nowhere to be found.  It had most likely slithered off toward my neighbour’s house, but that didn’t stop me from watching the front door the rest of the afternoon, just waiting to see that slick body slithering through a microscopic crack in the door (because snakes are boneless, right?  They can squeeze themselves anywhere… I think.  At least the man-eating ones can).

Freaked me out.

*******

Is it just me or has the blogosphere gone enormously quiet and still in the past week or two?  Fewer people reading, fewer people writing, fewer people commenting.  I’ve read blog posts and scrolled down to leave a comment, expecting to see dozens of comments already there since the post was a few days old… and saw two.  I’ve opened my Reader and seen that only a handful of posts have been added though that number is usually enormous.  I know there is the summer slow down, but this feels like something else.  Blogging Listlessness.  Are you listlessly blogging, reading, and commenting?  How can I light a fire under your ass?

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Sometimes, You Just Need a Good Rant” (From IF to When)
• “It Came in a Rush” (Production, Not Reproduction)
• “Confessional Fridays: Flirting with my Past” (Stumbling Gracefully)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Things Get IF’fy has a banshee scream post about receiving yet another pregnancy announcement, again from a co-worker.  I love this musing on the future: “I wonder if the banshee will ever tone it down to a croak or a sighing moan.  I can see myself at 60 – who knows lucky enough to be a grandmother myself – trying hard to tune out the other grannies boasting about their scores of grandkids.”  Though I think Heather’s idea of an infertile nursing home is brilliant…

Too Many Fish to Fry has a post about the cruelness of the world; about the bitter and the sweet, and she finishes the post with a Pampers commercial that had me bawling.  Watch if you need a good cry (heads up: for a diaper commercial, it is IF-friendly).  TMFtF also has a writing workshop idea so look at her top post as well.

The Misadventures of MissOhKay has a post about unfulfilled due dates; namely why she imagines the size the child would be if she were still gestating yet she never thinks about that child past the due date, into the future.  Today is the unfulfilled due date, and I’m certain that she could use some extra love.

Life from Here has a post about her daughter’s birthday and the various celebrations, all seen through the lens of open adoption.  She writes: “Open adoption is complicated because relationships are complicated. Life is complicated.”  And this post is complicated, but it’s beautiful.  And it is also so clearly filled with love.

Lastly, No Kidding in NZ has a great post that I think deserves a larger discussion which is whether or not one babyproofs their house if they don’t have children (or, I’d add to the idea, if your children are older and you’ve moved along from the electrical-socket-cover stage).  I like what No Kidding does and her thoughts, but others have put good ideas in the comment section as well.  Add your thoughts too.

The roundup to the Roundup: I was almost eaten by an enormous black snake (or something like that).  What’s up with the wave of Blogging Listlessness (are you noticing it too?) And lots of great blog posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between June 3 and June 10) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.

I got the electric guitar this week — a dark blue and white Fender Squier Stratocaster.  We brought it home and plugged it in and took turns rocking out for an hour.

And then it was time to name it.

All of my suggestions were rejected including Peebles St. Ives (the ChickieNob informed me that “Penis St. Eye” is a terrible name) and Harvey Sweatmachine.  Suddenly, the best name occurred to me — Bob Jackson — and once I said it, everyone in the room agreed that it was the perfect name for the guitar.  Since then, we have only called the guitar Bob Jackson (as in, “where did you put Bob Jackson?” or “Can I play Bob Jackson?”).

The ChickieNob at first didn’t want me to share where the name comes from, but she has since changed her mind and said, “feel free to share this with the Internets.”

A week or so ago, we were watching Free to Be You and Me and the ChickieNob said to me, “when did Bob Dylan die?”

Me: He didn’t.  He’s alive.  He just celebrated his birthday.

ChickieNob: No, Mommy, he’s dead.

Me: Did he die today? (I had been offline most of the day and it was possible that he had died without me knowing).

ChickieNob: No, it was a while back.

Me: Then he’s definitely still alive.  He’s probably touring this summer.

ChickieNob: Mommy, you just have to accept it and stop pretending.  Bob Dylan is dead.

Me: I’m not pretending!  I promise you that Bob Dylan is very much alive.

ChickieNob: Then why did he die when he took all of that bad medicine?

Wolvog: (slowly tearing his eyes from the screen) Are you talking about Michael Jackson?

ChickieNob: (thinking for a moment) Yes, I believe I am.  Is there a difference between Bob Dylan and Michael Jackson?

Me: Yes, there is an enormous difference!

Wolvog: Like one of them is alive and the other one is dead.

ChickieNob: Then let’s switch the question.  When did Michael Jackson die?

Hence how our guitar got its moniker.

Baby Smiling in Back Seat knows just how to push a hormonal girl over the edge.  She sent me this video of Rayna Ford who was pulled out of the audience by Paul Simon to play his song.  As in, he handed her his guitar and asked her to play “Duncan.”

It’s incredibly emotional to watch and by the second minute, I was crying for her, especially seeing her hands shaking and how she found her groove with the song, settled into the melody and her tears of disbelief as Paul Simon walks around right behind her.  Her deep breaths when he touches her back.  It must have been dream-like to be on stage.

It’s such a simple thing — all he did was bring her on stage.  But this tiny action made such a huge impact; obviously in Rayna Ford’s life, but also in all the people who witnessed it and had to acknowledge that every once in a while, dreams come true.

This doesn’t fall into the realm of miracle; this is hardly the meeting place of luck and chance.  This is just a person, realizing they could fulfill someone else’s dream, and then doing it.  There are so many things that are out of our control, the huge wishes that no one can fulfill for us (and I’m certain everyone who reads this blog has one of those in their heart at this moment), but it is no less meaningful when we get a small thing that we want.  It is sometimes enough just to know that another person in the universe heard us and tried to make our dream come true (I still wonder whatever became of Anna Bieniak and her art).

I’ve been asking you since last Thursday to fulfill my dream.  My book, Life from Scratch, is currently in the 200’s on the Kindle list and I’ve been asking for your help to bring it to #1 (which I’ve currently revised to be at least in the top 100) by Tweeting it, Facebooking it, blogging about it, telling your friends.

I know it’s a bit silly; I’m ecstatic with it being in the 200’s and realistically, it’s just a number. BUT every time I see a tweet or someone emails me to tell me that they’ve emailed their friends, it makes this huge difference.  It’s like Paul Simon dragging me onto the stage.  It’s another human being telling me with their actions that they care; that they can fulfill my wish and therefore, they’re fulfilling my wish.  Not because they get anything out of it, but because they care if I care simply because we’re both humans.

So that’s my wish.  There’s still another week of this promotion. (It’s only $2.99!  Less than a beer at most bars.  Less than a movie ticket or a frappuccino or a bag of flour.)  I’d love you to help me spread word and get the book down into the top 100 on Kindle.  It means the world to me and thank you to everyone who has helped so far.

Therefore, I’m going to encourage you to leave a wish and take a wish (if you can).  I’ve already stated mine, but what is yours?  Not the enormous wishes that people can’t fulfill, but the tiny ones.  Who knows what connections lurk out there in the blogosphere?  Which person has a Google alert on themselves who will read your comment and step forward with your request?  Who knows what items a person has lying around their house they could send along? Who wants votes for a contest that you can collect simply by stating your heart.  Is there a post that you wish everyone would read and comment on?

This is really blogging at its best.  Of being each other’s Paul Simon’s yanking each other onto the figurative stage as we read each other’s words.

So which wish of yours can I fulfill?  And can you fulfill mine?

I am emerging out of my Chekhovian mood, and I debated writing about this (and certainly about posting it).  But it was still on my mind, so one last bit of navel-gazing about aging.

This current round of my midlife crisis started when I was at an event, filled with what I think we’d all describe as fairly accomplished people.

I started to zone out at one point, staring at the person behind the podium, contemplating his skeleton. (Am I the only person who does this when they’re getting all angsty?  Imagine that people’s skeletons are suddenly visible externally and their disjointed mandible is wiggling up and down as they speak to you?)  All I could think of was how little everyone in the room had accomplished despite the fact that general society would describe the people in the room as fairly successful.

I mean, what do books and movies and theater even mean at the end of the day?  Most books — even very successful ones — go out of print and are forgotten within years.  Movies go in one eye and out the other.

“It sort of doesn’t matter how much we accomplish because we’re all going to die anyway,” the cheery skeleton man silently informed me in not so many words while his actual body spoke about the latest book he wrote.

Can you tell that I’ve read a lot of Scandinavian literature?

But really, it was a little freeing to stop worrying about whether I’ve accomplished enough.  Enough.  How can anyone ever measure enough?  All I know is that whatever amount of good things I have — love, children, books, possessions; it never feels like enough.  The freeing part came in recognizing that very few people ever reach the stage of “enough” in one aspect of their life much less in all aspects of their life.

I mean, how many people can say, “feh, hold the love, I have enough of it.”  Or “I don’t really need any more success at work; I’m all full-up.”

Once everyone’s skeleton reminded me that we’re all heading to the same destination despite whatever else we accomplish along the way, I stopped coveting one writer’s $500,000 advance and another writer’s movie rights sale.  I mean, it’s all well and good that they have this money and can slap an accomplishment on their biography — but it’s certainly not keeping them from death.  And who will care in the future whatever small feats they accomplished while on earth.  No one (okay, perhaps their descendents).

And again, even with those accomplishments, I’d hazard a guess that neither of those writers are saying, “it’s enough.  I’m done.  I can walk away from the game happy.”  Success breeds a desire for success.  Don’t you feel that way after you write a particularly fantastic blog post and you get an unusually high amount of comments?  You want to do it again.  You don’t know exactly how to do it again — that is the frustrating part since success usually requires external forces or people to cooperate.  But you really want to do it again.

But isn’t it a little freeing to think to yourself, what does it matter if I have enormous blog traffic or a small amount of blog traffic?  What does it matter if this post gets two comments or 20 comments (oh please, let it get 20 comments, let it get 20 comments)?  A year from now, who will remember?  A decade from now, who will care?  A century from now, we’ll all be ashes anyway.

This is not meant to sound depressing in any way — just the opposite; it is a confirmation of enjoying the journey since we all end up in the same place regardless of what we do (except for those who have the means to cryopreserve their body… or their head… or whatever one needs to do in order to extend life indefinitely).  Of enjoying your blog regardless of where it is going simply because it exists.  Of enjoying whatever love or happiness or comfort you can grab since isn’t it all fleeting?

Which is not to say that nothing we do or care about matters.  Again, just the opposite — of course it matters.  Of course I want the 20 comments and the enormous advance on my next book.  Of course I want to sell the film rights and get to see my book turned into a movie.*  Of course I want to walk down the street and have someone show me that they had a tattoo made of my name across their bicep (something understated and pretty).  But as I sat in that room, staring at the especially smug skeleton across from me (he was probably contemplating his book advance as I was contemplating his disembodied phalanges), I thought about dividing apart what I was being pressured to believe was important by society and what was personally worth chasing based on how I viewed the world.

What was worth worrying about the enoughness of it all?

I don’t have a clear answer, and to be honest, the answer has changed from moment to moment.  Love is always on the list — I think it’s worth my energy to chase love, to worry about love, to wonder if I have enough love, to fret if I’m giving enough love, to fear that I am about to suffocate the children with my enormous, pillow-like love.  Sometimes I think it’s worth my energy to chase artistic success.  Or to chase down additional family building success.

And sometimes I step back and say to myself, “it doesn’t matter, Melissa, because there will never be enough.  So don’t dismiss what you have, worrying about the size of it.  Just understand that you will never be full but that doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy this small, simple meal.”

At least, that is what I say to my own skeleton when it materializes externally, blotting out skin and hair and heart and blood.

*******

* And even more than that, in the immediate moment, I want very badly for people to help me spread word that my book, Life from Scratch, is one of the Sunshine Deals on Amazon and help me get it to #1 on the Kindle List.  $2.99, people, it will never be that low again!  Please help me send my kids to college by either reading my book or telling someone else to read it.  It seems worth my energy stressing about that this moment while also trying to enjoy the small good thing that is being chosen by Amazon at all.