Lessons of the Abi-Somethings

Things your parents (probably) never told you, but mine will.

 In case you haven’t noticed, I have an abnormal family. In fact, we call ourselves abi-something. On my last visit home, I came to the conclusion that my parents really, really need to have a blog, or a book, or something. A way to pass on their useful knowledge to the next generation. And trust me, they have a lot of useful knowledge, and they have no problem sharing it. They just don’t share it in a way that could reach the unwashed masses who are in need of it.

 Both of my parents are smokers, a little less than chain smokers. And they both smoke outside, I am not sure why, everyone that lives in their house smokes, but it has been a rule for as long as I can remember to only smoke outside, so that’s where they go. Into the garage, that’s furnished with a small table, a few camp chairs, a few upside down buckets as make shift chairs and a space heater. On nights this is where my parents spend most of their time. Drinking beer and dispensing wisdom over cigarettes to passing teens and adults. You see, to get into the house you have to either risk the scary wooden steps which are creaky, and smell faintly of mildew or walk through the garage, and since the steps are very rarely lit, and the door more often locked, and the sisters (who visitors are most likely going to see) live in the basement, the garage is the common choice.

 It’s a bit of a rite of passage, to walk through the cloud of cigarette smoke, say hello to the un-adult like adults, and pass into the basement. And since most of the kids smoke anyway they eventually find their way into the garage. And my parents make small talk. Small talk typically resolves into life lessons. Lessons these kids probably wouldn’t learn anywhere else. Lessons on things like, what you should say to the police, when you get pulled over and have illegal substances in the car and don’t want to get arrested, after lamenting a recent arrest. From a young age, I learned the safe conversations to have with a police officer when trying to avoid arrest. First off you always address them properly. “Yes Sir,” or “Yes maim” goes along way. Never offer more information than is requested. Second, focus the conversations on the innocuous, like a “how bout them dawgs”, or “I really wish it would rain” especially in Georgia. Or you could always threaten the officer to arrest you.

 When I was around six years old my mom took me and my sister and a few other kids to hear Bill Clinton speak, after the rally/speech/whatever she had planned to take us across the street, into the park, to have a picnic lunch. When trying to cross the street we were stopped by a police officer who told us that the park was closed. My mom argued with him, pointing out that the president had already left so there was no reason not to let us into the park. Finally frustrated she said, "Listen, we are going into the park. If you want to arrest me I will be right over there" we went into the park, my mom did not get arrested. She is quite fond of telling this story to kids, who are lamenting a recent arrest, especially if they felt like they were unjustly arrested, and let’s be honest. Very few people are arrested, thinking that they will be caught.

 Some other life lessons I learned in my parent’s garage are:

 Always pretend like you know the person who knows you.

 If you say something with enough conviction odds are you can get people to believe you even if you have no idea what your talking about.

 Just because someone keeps everything out in the open doesn’t mean they don’t have anything to hide. 

Always say please and thank you, especially if you decrepitly want to be rude to who you are interacting with.

 Friends come, and friends go, but enemies last forever.

 What did your parents teach you?

Insecure Writers Group Post: Procrastination

"Never procrastinate today what you can put off till tomorrow."

Wise words of wisdom from my father (also one of my parents many trivia team names, they also have "My couch pulls out but I don't" and "I'm wearing woman's underwear, and it feels so good") Where was I? Oh, procrastination, and insecurity.

It seems a good topic since I am a day late on my insecure blog post, and because I've been procrastinating writing my blog, and because I've been procrastinating on writing a post on procrastiantion ever since Bobby my nemisis over at Wildy Urban wrote Procrastinators Anonymous .

Now you might be wondering what the P word has to do with writing, or perhaps the I word. Well back in October when I first found out about the Insecure Writers Group, I wrote a post about the difference between trying and failing (or something like that), and the P word in my opinion is basically based (like the alliteration)on the fear of failing, and if you never try you can never fail. Remember the insecure steroid guy? I'm gonna relate to that or well, I am going to try to.

I think there are a few things that lead to procrastination to me.

Lazyness
Fear/Insecurity
Stress

I've been procrastinating alot lately. Alot alot. I've also been under more stress than normal lately, work has been intense, I have a dance show this weekend (five hours of practice a week takes up alot of time), I am broke (dance show prep costs lots of moneys) and general life is stressful stress. So, because of that stress I've been doing other things that trigger stress relief, reading/knitting/running/watching tv.

But, those are all excuses. I know they are excuses, but I do them anyway.

Then there is the lazyness element, but I am not sure if lazy-ness is a true cause because a lot of the things I do to procrastinate writing are harder than actually writing, running/dancing/knitting (maybe not knitting). They are lazy in one aspect though, they dont require alot of thought.

But then there is the fear. Fear of sucsess, fear of failure. Insecurity. You procrastinate doing something if you are afraid to do it. But still. I don't think that is actually the root of the problem.

I love to write, I have fun crafting a perfect scene, or listening my characters bicker with one another in my head when I write their dialogue. Just me, my netbook/laptop/pen and paper, music and a cup of tea, sticking my head in a world where anything goes because its MY WORLD. Spending time thinking up what motivates my characters etc. Don't get me wrong, its work, but its fun. Here's the wrench though. The second you call yourself a writer, or make friends who are writers, writing is not just something you like doing. Its something you should be doing. Its something you have to do, or you are failing. Then there is stress, then their is worry, then their is insecurity.

The joy gets lost in everything else. So to me, the way to shake procrastination is to make it not something you should be doing, but make writing be what you WANT to be doing. If you are not a writer, but instead someone who likes to write maybe then you cannot procrastinate writing since its not something you should be doing, and if its not something you are doing for any reason other than you want to, you can also shake that insecurity from failing away.

This month, I'm gonna try to remember the joy, and see if it helps.

Do you procrastinate?

p.s. When I joined the Insecure Writers Group, I was the 173rd member, they are now up to 230 members? How many have you checked out?

Voicemails of a Writer

I dont think voice mails begin with “I have a dragon problem” in real life. They certainly don’t end in, “Text me when I can call back to brainstorm solutions to my dragon problem. Cause I’m on my way to work.” That’s just not normal. And its definitely not normal to think, hmm that would make a great opening to a blog post, or short story after it happens.

I can’t imagine how boring normal would be; luckily I have better things to be imagining. Like what kind of dragon problems my friend has. She was way to calm to be facing a dragon attack. Although freely maraudering dragons would definitely be a problem (and interesting), especially cause she lives in Philadelphia. I recon they would wreak havoc on all kinds of important things they don’t know anything about. Like independence hall. Do Dragons have a taste for colonial buildings? I imagine they burn quite well, old wood and all.

Of course she could have uncovered an illegal dragon egg smuggling ring, and be wondering who to report it to. DEA, Customs, FBI, CIA, NCIS, NSA, NASA, PETA…and I think I am out of acronyms. Or maybe she has been caught raising dragons for dragon fighting. Perhaps it’s that some misfit band of Dragon Lords were discovered by lay folk and now face a disastrous choice, make public the existence of dragons and magic, or just destroy the city and everyone who was potentially exposed.

The truth is it could be any of those things. The friend who called, and left a message on my phone, that began with “I have a dragon problem” is a fellow writer. Although, I still don’t think voice mails begin with “I have a dragon problem” in real life. Writers seem to live in a subset of the real world, or at least I do. And that subset seems to be in my own imagination.

I don’t know what it takes to be a writer, although I do have some theories on character traits that most have. The first is an overactive, or just an active, imagination. We create worlds in our head, and then fill these worlds with people that we create, and sometimes destroy. Then mourn over the people we’ve destroyed, they weren’t just made up, they lived. Even if they lived inside our heads. I’ve cried over killing a character. I am sure most other writers have too (even if you haven’t, can you just lie to me about that).

The second, is slightly harder to admit. Arrogance. We all have something to say, and think what we have to say is worth other people’s time to read. And that is a bit arrogant.

Anything else you think someone needs to be a writer?