Writing is Hard Work But It’s Worth ItMY VOICE I have a hard time writing poetry but I wrote a poem anyway. It was inspired by a prompt from a zoom writing workshop I went to. The prompt was “My voice sounds like . . .” My voice sounds like the places I call home, Minnesota nice with a California accent. My voice comes from my solar plexus Near where my heart beats, aided by a pacemaker. It’s fragile sometimes but it can sing. It’s funny sometimes but it carries sadness as well. It’s the real me, except when I choose to be someone else. There are times when my voice struggles to get out, But when it does see the light of day It flows from my soul like a little kid who wants to play. THE STRUGGLE This week my voice did struggle with getting out. It did not not want to come out and play. I have been having a bad case of writer’s block. I wrote a lot of words but they didn’t say anything. My thoughts zig-zagged without showing me a path. I have been taking for granted my ability to come up with an idea for my blog, thinking it would just happen like it usually does, in the shower or on a walk. But nope, nothing inspiring, or entertaining, or even vaguely interesting showed up in my brain. So I am stuck writing about the fact that I have nothing to write about. I saw a Netflix documentary recently about Leonard Cohen, the person who wrote the song “Hallelujah.” This was not a song that popped into his mind while he was in the shower or on a walk. He wrote at least 80 verses for it, most of which he didn’t use. It took him years to finish and actually record it. During that time the song evolved. Some of the verses that he used when he first recorded it changed later in his life as his perspective changed. When he finally recorded “Hallelujah” it was at a low point in his career. The record company decided his album, and the songs in it, weren’t worth releasing. It took years for the song to be recognized and that was a version recorded by another musician, Jeff Buckley. Now it is Leonard Cohen’s most memorable song and it has been recorded hundreds of times by a diverse list of artists including Bob Dylan, Willy Nelson, and k.d. Lang. There was even a John Cale version in the movie Shrek. THE INSPIRATION I knew when I saw the Leonard Cohen documentary that I wanted to write about it; I just didn’t know what I wanted to say. The driving force of his creativity and the tenacity he had to keep writing despite how his work was received was so inspiring for me. It feels like serendipty that the documentary came to mind when my creative energy was at a low point. Leonard Cohen is a reminder for me that writing takes a lot of work, even when it’s just writing a blog. This isn’t work in a negative sense. It’s work in a spiritual sense, something you do because you need to do it. Not that it’s easy. It’s just necessary to feed your soul. Writing does feed my soul. It’s worth struggling sometimes. I don’t need to write a best seller; just sharing my thoughts and experiences as a little old lady with cats is good enough. At the end of the documentary there was footage of Leonard singing “Hallelujah” at a concert in London in 2009. You could see the joy in his face as he performed. He actually SKIPPED off of the stage! He was 75, the same age I am now. What an inspiration! Well Hallelujah! I guess I did have something to write about!
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Grandpa Jim and I both found creative outlets in our seventies.I remember the days when we counted backwards as the first astronauts lifted off into space, so when I think of the word "launch" I imagine taking off like a rocket. This week Chris, the leader of the grief group that inspired me to publish a book of my blogs, had a book launch gathering on Zoom. It was very special and something I never imagined I would ever do. I am not about to head into the stratosphere but, at nearly 75-years old, I do have the feeling of being launched into new territory.
When my Grandpa Jim was in his seventies he started making wood carvings. I remember spending time in his garage workshop watching him work on his carvings, laughing away as he worked. He got his inspiration from National Geographic magazines and memories of his life growing up in Denmark. As a kid I was amazed that someone that old could start doing something new and creative. Now that I’m in my seventies, I have to laugh at my kid’s-eye view of getting older. I know that creativity and adventure doesn’t come to a halt as you age. In fact it can blossom in the freedom of retirement. At the time I started working on the book I was thinking it would be an easy project that I could do as Christmas presents for my friends and family. After nine months of concentrated, semi-gut-wrenching effort, my perspective has changed. A friend pointed out that nine months is a good gestation period. This book is literally my baby. My heart and soul are in it. I want to throw up my arms and release it into the universe in the way doves or butterflies are released at a wedding. I am excavating a part of me that has been deeply buried. A lot of my life has been spent cultivating a low profile. To expose the real me beyond the comfortable support of my friends and family is not something I ever imagined I would do. I took my first small step when I started writing my blog in 2015. Publishing a book of blogs seven years later was a giant leap for me in embracing who I am. Even if my book is only read by a few people, the process of publishing it feels like I am spreading my wings and getting ready to fly, and that makes it a successful launch. I did it! I am now officially a published writer!I can’t believe I actually finished it. Today I finally published a book of some of my blogs on Amazon. It's been a long road. I started working on the book nine months ago. My art grief group, Nancy, Marsha, Mabel, Darrell, and our leader Chris, encouraged me to do it. Chris also helped guide me through the publishing process. I learned a lot in the process. I learned that I didn’t have a clue how much time and effort it would take to gather a bunch of stuff I had already written for my Little Old Lady with Cats blog, and put it together into a book. I discovered that, just like everything in life, I couldn’t do it alone. In addition to the grief group I had help from my friends. Fin and Linda M. inspired me with ideas, corrected my grammar and punctuation, and put me on the right path. Carol and Linda S. listened to my fears and frustrations and helped me keep going. Marion, editor extraordinaire, transformed my book into more than I ever imagined it could be. And Steven magically recreated me as a cartoon and transformed my words into drawings in a way only a master artist could manage. My sister Lin was there too. She is in the stories and in my heart. Her dream of me as an artist’s model inspired me to write a blog about being naked and vulnerable, baring my true self to the world. It became the inspiration for the title of the book. From the Introduction to the Book:I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my newfound freedom after I retired. I knew it wasn’t sitting in my recliner watching murder mysteries on TV, although I am inclined to do that too. A friend, who was a former housemate, suggested I try writing a blog, and Little Old Lady with Cats was born. She had read something I had written about trying to find a new pair of shoes for my nephew’s upcoming wedding, and that was the beginning of my writing journey. My friend told me that a good blog has a strong underlying focus, and I was focused on what the heck my new life as a retired little old lady was going to be, so my blog became: Although I sometimes feel like a caricature of a cat lady, my blog goes beyond the stereotype. It gives me a way to focus my energy on doing something purposeful and creative. Writing opens my heart and connects me to a sense of humor that I didn’t know I had.
My life and my blog have changed since I began writing about the perils of buying shoes online. I have had new housemates, new adventures, and new cats. Loss and grief, as well as joy and wonder, have given me a perspective I didn’t expect to find at this stage of life. Sharing life experiences through my blog has been good for my soul and, I hope, entertaining and thought-provoking for the people who read it. A Blogger at WorkLast night I went down the rabbit hole on my computer. I was innocently doing some final adjustments to the book I have been working on and then - POP! - the cover changed and about a third of it was missing. I tried not to panic, but the fixes just made it worse and my working file was ruined. Luckily I had saved some PDF files but it will be a long slog to get the working file redone.
That was not the worst of it. All of a sudden my scroll bars disappeared. I found the horizontal one but it had turned the screen into a book with pages that flipped instead of scrolling. More panic and frustration ensued until I accidentally rediscovered the vertical scroll bar. I don’t have a clue what I did, but I figured it was a good time to quit and go to bed before I created any more disasters. This morning I got up. Turned on the computer and finished making corrections on my book. I can use the PDF files for the cover without redoing it. It took ten minutes. DONE! I feel like Alice in Wonderland testing out which bottle of potion will make me bigger or smaller. I know I am not the only one who has fallen into another dimension using Microsoft word. I have used it for a long time, but not for anything as daunting as a book. There are so many hidden features that magically disappear and reappear like the Cheshire Cat; it’s easy to get lost and overwhelmed. The good thing is that I think I am done with the book. I have thought this same thought many times before over the multitude of months I have spent writing, editing, rewriting, re-editing, and re-re-editing, but I think this is it. I have one more meeting with a friend who is helping me edit and then it’s time to download onto KDP (Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing) with the help of another friend. Just the thought that I might actually be done left me gobsmacked. I was beginning to think I would be working on this book until I died. Someone would find me hunched over my laptop, or crumpled into a heap in my recliner, still clutching my iPad. I feel relieved and lost at the same time, not to mention a little afraid. It’s one thing to put my blog on Facebook where my friends and family read what I write, it’s another thing to publish a book on amazon.com. I find a certain amount of comfort knowing that it will be just one of the millions of books available online. In 2015 I started writing my blog inspired by my housemate Fin who is an excellent writer and artist. I have had some stops and starts, but after my sister Lin died I felt compelled to write in a way I had never felt before. I think of her, and my sister Sue, and my mom and dad, looking down from heaven and cheering me on. It’s a risk-taking venture to put my thoughts, hopes, and dreams into words and share them with someone besides my cat. I didn’t think I was much of a risk-taker but I surprised myself. It’s an adventure that has happened little steps at a time and it feels like Wonderland, surprising, scary, and full of possibilities. Somewhere along the way in my formal education, I learned how to use punctuation, or at least I thought I did. I felt pretty confident in my ability to write a sentence, throw in a few commas here and there, and end with a period. Yes, there was the possibility of needing an occasional question mark or exclamation point, but how hard could this really be? Like the hundreds of junior high students I taught over the years, I thought I “knew it all.” HA! Little did I realize that there are giant holes in my understanding of punctuation. Did you notice how I just used quotation marks around the words “knew it all?” That is wrong, wrong, wrong. However, the same phrase used in the first sentence in THIS paragraph is correct. How could that BE??? What is going on here? According to the rules of punctuation, quotation marks should NEVER be used to emphasize words, which is what I did in the first paragraph. However, if you are referring to words in general, you can put them in quotation marks. At least I think that’s how it works. I could be wrong. I am totally confused. Why am I even in this state of confusion? I have decided to put together a book of some of my blogs. I want to be professional about this, so I am now in the process of editing, with the help of friends who know more about writing than I do. It involves a thorough search for mistakes. The search revealed that I have made what feels like a billion mistakes, especially when it comes to quotation marks. I am now on a quest to clean up as many of these errors as possible so that I can publish my book, confident that even an English teacher would be proud of my effort. I am proud of MYSELF too, for actually putting this book together. Before I started my blog I did not consider myself a writer. Now, after many years of composing blog posts, I think I can finally identify myself as one. A writer is someone who finds joy in writing, which I do. I don’t have to be perfect at it to claim the title. Making mistakes is good. It is part of the learning process and means that I am human. It keeps my brain healthy and functioning as I navigate the rocky road of life. Apparently any time we challenge ourselves to learn something new, we are growing more brain synapses. Learning how to properly use quotation marks is like climbing Mount Everest for me. I am building mental muscle. It’s not easy and can be very frustrating, but I am willing to keep climbing. There is also something healing in the creative process, whether it’s writing, art, music, cooking, home repair, gardening, anything that requires thinking out of the box. It feeds my soul and opens my heart. Some quotations that inspire creativity: “Art enables us to find ourselves and loose ourselves at the same time.” —Thomas Merton “Do one thing every day that scares you” —Eleanor Roosevelt “I skate to where the puck will be, not to where it has been.” —Wayne Gretzky
I started writing this post a while ago, but after Russia invaded Ukraine the world suddenly changed. The idea of writing about humor seemed ridiculous. There is nothing funny about war. Then I remembered that Zelensky was a comedian before he became the president of Ukraine. It made me wonder how that influenced him and if it had any affect on preparing him for the challenges he is now facing. There is a certain irony in the fact that Ukraine’s president used to be a comedian. I can see how that could have shaped his ability to deal with the unbearable responsibility he faces. Humor requires being able to take an honest look at life and to respond quickly to what is going on in the world. A friend who is a political cartoonist told me he thinks humor comes out of sarcasm and anger. I am not sure if I totally agree but I do see this in President Zelensky. He has a clear-eyed focus grounded in reality. He channels his sarcasm and anger in his responses with practiced skill, like the “I need ammunition not a ride” comment about the U.S. offer to assist with evacuating him from his country. It’s not often that you see that kind of straightforward response from world leaders. When I first started writing my blog I found that it was a great and surprising way to express my inner humor. I don’t consider myself particularly funny but funny things just seem to pop up out of nowhere when I’m writing. Unlike my cartoonist friend, however, my humor doesn’t come from cynicism and anger, it comes from looking at life and my own foibles in an honest, self-deprecating way. There is no cynicism in it. More like unvarnished truth and acceptance that I am human. Several years ago I went to a book signing with Dave Barry, a very funny guy and incredible writer. I did some research at the time about what makes something funny and wrote a blog about it. I just found that blog again (check out “What’s So Funny?” February 7, 2016 in the archive). Sure enough, one of the suggestions about how to be funny was to tell your truth in an entertaining way and be honest about the stupid things you do. In times like this I need humor more than ever. So what’s the stupidest thing I have done lately? I was running late for a zoom meeting and ended up wearing giant red Velcro rollers in my hair. It was an interesting choice and certainly got some attention but it was probably more stupid than funny. But it could be funny, depending on how I write about it. I think the people at the zoom meeting thought it was funny, although maybe more like “funny” in the same way my Mom meant when she said something was “different.” It was her “Minnesota polite” way of saying she hated it. My zoom photo (which required a lot of time taking a multitude of selfies to achieve the most flattering look) was the first thing they saw, and then up popped the real me. The contrast between the well-coifed Leslie in the photo, and the little old lady with curlers certainly made an impression. No one said anything at first, but later on in the meeting one of the members questioned my choice of hair-do (or hair-don’t) in a nice but straightforward way. Evidently this was a look that fit the image of a stereotypical little old lady with cats perfectly. She thought that I should put a photo of myself in curlers in the book of blogs I am writing. I don’t think I will take her up on that suggestion. It’s one thing to let my small and supportive zoom group see me with large red cylinders protruding from my head, but it’s not something I want to blast out to the universe - unless I want to look like a space alien. Nope, my Abby cat will be the only living creature who will see me in rollers at this point, and of course I will too when I look in the bathroom mirror. I can get a good start to my day by laughing at myself. I am not a fan of wrestling. You will never find me watching people getting pummeled on TV unless it involves murder and death in a PBS mystery. My newest cat Abby likes to wrestle. She is 10 months old and I realize that this is an important part of her cat development. She needs to learn how to protect herself. I bought a big stuffed toy that looks like a fluffy green worm with a tail. She grabs it and shakes it and kicks it with her hind legs. I am glad she is doing this with her toy and not my hand. I remember being very uncomfortable with adults who liked to tease and wrestle when I was a kid. My Dad was not the wrestling kind of guy. He liked quiet peaceful things like reading, fishing, and hiking. He took us to the library, baited our hooks, and showed us where to find wild flowers and blueberries, but he never wrestled. In my late 30’s I went to some singles activities where they did playful physical games. I was very uncomfortable. Someone questioned my ability to be in touch with my inner child but my inner child could not relate to this kind of aggressive physical play. I felt like a wierdo because I had no desire to chase other adults around. This is probably one of the reasons I am a single little old lady with cats. So what am I wrestling with now? Certainly nothing physical since I wouldn’t touch that with a 10 foot pole. What is it that makes me fascinated by Abby’s physical prowess at beating up a stuffed green worm? Who or what would I like to take down in a mano a mano confrontation? It feels like I am having an inner battle with myself. There are times when I question how much of myself I want to reveal to the world, especially when I am writing this blog. I put a toe into the self expression waters and then draw back, afraid of what people will think of me. Old feelings of rejection and fear of looking weird, the way I did in the singles group, pop up. Unlike me, Abby is super aggressive in her pursuit of the things she wants, especially her green worm. I am more likely to tippy toe around and try not to stand out too much. No wonder I am in a wresting match with myself. I want to be a little risky but I am afraid to rock the boat. Ugh! There is no “winner” in this battle. I am the winner and the loser. The more I put myself out there in the world, the more vunerable I am and the more likely I am to experience what I am afraid of. Where’s the win, win? I put myself out there and I learn to accept myself as I am? I put myself out there and I strengthen my mental muscle to be who I really am, my authentic self? Like my Abby cat, I learn to fight for what I yearn for? Winning is probably not a good reference here. Experiencing and participating in life is more what it is about. I don’t have to be in the WWE in order to do that. I just have to get out of the battle in my head. 101 is a magical number. It’s the number of posts I have written since I started my “Little Old Lady with cats” blog just over a year ago. According to the online dictionary, the number 101, when used as an adjective that follows a noun (i.e. Life 101, Cooking 101), refers to an introductory class like Physics 101. So “Blogging 101” means the basics of blogging. This last year has certainly been a discovery of some of the basics of blogging. I still have a lot to learn. I have never quite grasped the social media aspect of blogging. A friend told me I need to promote my blog by posting references to it on Facebook and/or Twitter. I’m kind of nervous about connecting my blog to Facebook because the things I write are more personal than what I would normally post there. I’ve never Tweeted and I’m not sure how to do it. It makes me think about Donald Trump and I certainly don’t want to follow his example. I guess I can research this a bit. Ack! I am so conflicted between putting myself out there and just staying safe in my own little domain. That reminds me. They keep asking me if I want a domain. I have to pay for it. Is it something I really want? Do I want to pay for my site and get more statistics? I have so many questions. I do get comments on my blog but they are usually in the old fashioned way, from people that I actually talk to, face to face, who have read my blog. Very few people leave comments. I know I haven’t been good about responding so I am working on that. Please feel free to comment. Click the icon at the end of the page if you want to leave a comment and I will happily respond. There is one more interesting aspect to the number 101. It could also indicate something that is just a little bit out of the ordinary. Wikipedia notes that there are more books published with a title that begins with 101 than 100 (i.e. “101 Ways to Train a Cat” or “101 Questions and Answers About Cats”). It implies that the reader will get more bang for their buck than books that include only 100 items. Writing 101 blogs does feel a bit out of the ordinary. I looked back on my early posts and I am reposting one of my favorites. It truly represents how special the number 101 is to me: CONVERSATION WITH A 101 YEAR OLD MAN Originally posted 4/1/2015 Dad died in October. He was 101. Ever since his death I have been hoping to have a dream where we could just talk. Mom would be there too, but having spent the last eight years with God she would have acquired “the peace that passes all understanding” and be uncharacteristically smiling supportively in the background. We did talk when Dad was alive. He was as sharp as a tack and remembered his long life in amazing detail. He loved to tell stories, but it was rare for him to give advice and that is what I would like now. How do I navigate this new life, free from the responsibilities of caring for someone else? I feel a little guilty about admitting that I do have a sense of relief along with deep sadness that he is gone. It’s hard to sort out all these feelings. “Don’t get your pants in a bundle” Dad would say in my dream, if I had one, indicating his usual approach to life which was to not spend a lot of time worrying and wondering and just face each new challenge as it came. I would ask him how he was doing. “Pretty Good” he would reply, or “Not too bad.” Being from Minnesota, Dad sounded like a walking example of someone from the book “How to Talk Minnesotan.” Nothing was ever expressed effusively. Emotions, both good and bad, were always kept in check. In my dream, he would probably casually mention seeing God in the same way he used to talk about meeting Hubert Humphrey, and be proud that they both called him “Howard.” I would be afraid to tell him I was a little bit miffed that he had communicated with at least three people that I know of after he died, but not with me. Why didn’t I feel his touch on my arm like the custodian who cleaned his apartment, or see him in his plaid shirt like the total stranger who told me Dad said he could “help me more where he is now” than he could have when he was still alive and needing a lot of care? No, I wouldn't say anything about those mind boggling and confusing encounters. I would be happy just to be able to talk to him and I wouldn’t want to spoil it by being too emotional. After some random conversation I would look at Dad and Mom and we would all know that I was dreaming but it would seem so real. I would ask if I could touch them, even though it was a dream, and they would say yes. I wouldn’t give them a big bear hug. That would not be respectful Scandinavian behavior. I would gently take Mom’s hands in mine and kiss her on the forehead. And then I would slide my arm around Dad’s shoulders and plant a kiss on the top of his bald head. “Reading a Dave Barry book is funnier than watching the Kitten Bowl on Super Bowl Sunday.” I am hoping this opening sentence is funnier than “Dave Barry makes me laugh out loud.” Why, you might ask? Read on: I just finished reading Dave Barry’s book “Live Right and Find Happiness (Although Beer is Much Faster).” I was laughing so hard that my housemate came out of his room to see what crazy person had invaded the living room.
One of the suggestions about how to be funny was to tell your truth in an entertaining way and be honest about the stupid things you do. Dave writes about everyday things that are familiar so it’s easy to relate to his stories. The fact that we are both Baby Boomers makes the connection even stronger. There is a copy of his 1965 graduation photo in his book. It’s clear from the photo that Dave was a dorky teenager. I can relate. Although he was voted “class clown” he was not popular in the football hero sort of way. His self-deprecating humor, as he described his struggle to attract girls, was hilarious because it was so much like my own awkwardness as a teenager around boys. Actually it probably made me laugh because I feel pretty much the same today.
There were a lot of online references to being very specific. The idea is to paint a picture with words that the reader can relate to with all five senses by describing smells, textures, tastes, sights, and sounds. This inspires the artist in me. “My cat Mario is sleeping in the sun” is not as entertaining as “I could smell the heat of the sun coming off of his white glowing fur and taste the cat dander in the air as Mario lay by the window making squeaky snoring noises.” Making good use of metaphors and similes was another frequent suggestion. I can never remember which is which so I looked them up. A simile is a figure of speech in which the writer compares two unlike items, usually using the word "like" or "as.” For example: “Mario’s black spots make him look like a cow.” A metaphor is a figure of speech using a word or phrase that usually means one thing to refer to something else. “Mario is a cow cat.” The weirdest information I found on how to be funny was “The K rule.” I had never heard about this before but I guess it is fairly well known in the comedy community. It has to do with the fact that some words are more inherently funny than others. Words with the “k” sound (carbuncle, scuttlebutt, spork) are perceived as the funniest, and words with a hard “g” (guacamole, noggin, mugwump) are a close second. This is a hard one to wrap my head around. So I guess the word “cat” is funnier than “feline.” That certainly rings true for the title of my blog. “Little Old Lady with felines” does not sound like something I would be anxious to read. But then again “Little Old Lady with cats” might not do it for some people either. Maybe I should change it to “Squatty Geriatric Gal with cats.” Or I could try “Cat Krone.” It has good “K” sounds but unfortunately it makes me have visions of myself in a black pointy hat. Where you put funny words is evidently also as important as using them. Just like telling a joke, it’s a good idea to “end with funny.” In an interview with Gene Weingarten, Dave Barry said, “Put the funniest word at the end of a sentence” and “Put the funniest sentence at the beginning of the story.” With this in mind I edited the first sentence of this blog post. You will notice that it’s not exactly the most hilarious opening sentence in the world, but I tried. It’s a lot of hard work to be funny. Now I need to come up with a "punchy" ending word that has a nice strong “K” vibe. I think I like SMACK! |
Leslie Masona woman in search of her post-retirement future Guess what! By subscribing, you get notices about the latest Little Old Lady with Cats posts sent to your mailbox!
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WHAT IS A LITTLE OLD LADY WITH CATS - REALLY?
(from an entry posted on 5/1/2015) “I definitely fit some of the characteristics of a little old lady with cats: Retired - check, Single - check, Like to knit - check, Have cats - check. . .I do not want to get stuck in my Little Old Lady persona, however. In fact, this blog is a risk taking experiment in exploring and redefining what I want my retired life to look like.” Categories
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