Tag Archives: emotion

Not a Bad Day

blogging wordleAs a writer, many moments surround me that have to do with words and the opportunity for expression exists even though I feel my own creative writing is not as frequent an event as I would like it to be – right now. Right now being a time when I am immersed in the promises and projects of my own publishing company while maintaining my full time employment status, balancing personal time and commitment with volunteer and public appearance. In addition to all these things – life goes on and I am still coming to grips with me and different feelings, processing my reaction to those emotions, and dealing with “how it is” since things have so dramatically and drastically changed. It is said time heals all and, although it is the catalyst enabling us to eventually move on – it does not hide, change, or even make things better. They are merely, different… The situation and all its affects remain constant to me even though the hurt is most often reduced to a dull ache; it is still there, always, reminding. Is that the pensive artist speaking? Or the lamenting poet bemusing? Is it the need to continually grasp that which makes me feel something since there are times when I feel nothing? I am yet unable to write the negative out of me… knowing that I must, in order to purge the inner infestation and ease my own healing. The days are roller coaster weeks of emotional and physical restraints, ups and downs, periods of calm and nothingness erupting into those of stress and tension.

 I recently experienced what I thought was “not a bad day” having felt no extremes of sadness or pain; it was a Monday and I embraced it, got up and ventured out into my work world. Then, having accomplished a productive day there I followed it up with attention to other business, and then I spent the latter part of the evening in relaxation and conversation. Imagine my surprise when my daughter countered my expression of “it was not a bad day today” with “why can’t it just be a good day?”

Why can’t it, I asked myself, perplexed with my own realization of how it was stated. We discussed the ramifications of declaring the negative over the positive. The only thing I knew for sure was it felt to be better than some days of late, having experience bad days. I feel that to have a “good day” might mean moving beyond that which I know does not truly exist for me. They are different days with some that are not as bad as others. Why can’t I declare it a good day? For the same reason I am not a “jump up and down exuberantly” happy person. I know I am allowed to feel good. I am entitled to be happy. I am willing to make changes, when and if I can… but I am also taking the time I need to move into that acceptance, allowance, and happiness. I am hopeful it exists in the future; in the meantime, I go on with “not a bad day” being those with the least amount of pain – emotional and physical.

 (I was, however, personally pleased and grateful with the offspring who exhibited beyond her years intelligence. She is truly my reason for being; as are my dearest and closest friends who give me reason and cause to smile.)   



Filed under On Life, On Writing

I Read a Quote

“There is nothing like a dream to create the future.” ~ Victor Hugo

Several days have passed since my last blog, in fact, several days have lapsed again without a journal entry. It is not that words do not live within me and it is not that I do not long to let them go – it is the reality of life, at times, that prevents me from releasing them all too soon. I can go off all crazed like, writing and writing and writing, but in the act I set goals for myself I cannot keep – at least not right now. Lately, my creative self can be found wrapped up in emotional blankets, too content and warm and afraid to throw them aside. I have lots to share, to say, to write, to do… and it is in that confusion of everything there lies the desire to do nothing. The overwhelming all-consuming wish that it all didn’t exist as it has turned out. I am not a defeatist; I don’t wallow in pity and beg for another chance; but I do just keep scraping it all in a pile until that pile is so high it offends me and it has the nerve to eventually fall over smothering me with guilt and shame and sadness. These moments are a part of me and how things happen and how I deal. Thankfully they don’t last long and I am not destined to be someone who succumbs to their self-inflicted wounds. The moods seem to dissipate into the mist that is life. When I come across a quote, such as the one above by Victor Hugo – I pull myself up and go forward. Because in all the emotion and turmoil, I am a dreamer and I am a writer. I know I design my own future by following my dreams and achieving my goals.


Filed under On Life, On Thinking, On Writing

Me and NaNO

Wow, when the cosmos says you shouldn’t or will not do something, it really means it! Or at least it makes the effort somewhat difficult by overwhelming you with emotional grief and consuming you with administrative turmoil. This year will go down as the worst and will probably hamper any future attempts for the so-called month of writing frenzy. I think I will concentrate my efforts elsewhere because giving up totally is not something I am willing to give in to – writing is in my very soul and it is spurred by my heartfelt renderings. My thoughts stray back to 2009 when I had a partially developed idea in place for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I remember completing 2009 with a novel entitled An Italian Son even though my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer.

In 2010, I assumed the best for my writing despite all that was going on in my sister’s life. I planned early the premise of the 2010 novel and let it sit awaiting the November 1st start. Power Struggle came out of that 2010 effort although it was composed with pure emotional adrenalin. My father had an abdominal aortic aneurism (triple a) late October while at work. He wasn’t given much chance of survival but he did. Although he was in hospital for the onslaught of the writing craziness, I remember writing the first chapter on a small note pad while sitting in his hospital room.

In 2011, I registered on my NaNoWriMo account to assume the position but did not complete my attempt. I was working on my WIP, An Elizabethan Affair, and although it is one so dear to my heart that finishing is an ongoing dream, I could not find the time to finish the whole 50,000 words. I added to the work and in that I found comfort – it will be finished when the time is right for it keeps me in touch with my true spirit. My love for Shakespeare and his work guide me toward that inevitable success.

This year is another story altogether and perhaps my inner spirit is severed with regard to this year’s attempt at writing the sequels to my YA adventure, A Journey of Brothers. Publishing the ebook this summer via #smashwords is bittersweet. My mom loved this story and helped with editing and proof reading and event wanted so much to see it in film; I told her of my plan to write the follow ups to my novella this month. I would continue the story and follow the brothers – Aaslan, Udmurt, and Prince Haidar to fulfill each of their lives through the journey of the women, Aisha and Saharra. I dedicated the first book to my mom and although she did not see a print copy of this book she was the reason I published it first in the means I was able.

She passed away on November 3rd. If time allows I will begin this year’s NaNoWriMo quest in her honor – it will be delayed and sporadic.

I will not be pursuing future events but endeavor to devote time throughout the year to my writing as we answer the inner call as writers. At least that’s how I’m feeling right at this moment.


Filed under On Life, On Writing

Writing Real

The 3rd week into the New Year proved to be an eventful one in many respects. The week passed for everyone in my area of the world as the coldest one this winter and with some accompanying snow just to confirm for all of us – this is winter in Alberta. Mid-month stormed in with a fury as temperatures plummeted and things froze up. And even though my own mobility was hampered by this inconvenience, it amazed me how calmly I took the set-back and want to thank those who contributed to my ability to get to where I needed to go during all this. As the sun shines today, things are on the plus side of zero and all appears to be running as it should.

It is such calmness that encourages and comforts me as I view the contents of the plate before me – I am all too aware of deadlines, upcoming events, and the need to complete projects and move forward. It doesn’t seem to concern me yet I do realize the need for time management and the necessity of planning for an optimal outcome in all this craziness. Feelings ran the gamut this week if one were to be cliché in expression. Along with humbled and honored, I felt the force of not only weather but also the wondrous ability of the people in my life to accept limitations and encourage growth, face change and speak will all honesty. There was a tease, a test, a temptation; health, hope, happiness; seriousness, sincerity, socialization, seclusion; dependence, determination, detriment; acceptance, assurance, and so much more. If we look back over the week and take stock of all that happened, we will realize the plethora of ponderings to which we lay claim.

For a writer real life interactions and personal feelings are what fuel writing and bring emotion to the scenes and characters we portray on the page. It’s not just writing what you know; it’s writing what you feel. We all have the potential of creating powerful images through our words and we may even end up displaying our own self in the process, but that is what writing is all about. It does not matter whether you are pouring your heart out in a poem, writing to attract an audience with your blog, or creating a novel grounded in a universal reality of life. As writers, we are passionate about the words we write and there can never be a more grounded connection to our words than those expressed through the experience of real circumstances. Real situations that we live through and feel and deal with… we connect with our readers on a human level if our words express our true feelings.

Our relationship with words ranges from the deep soul-searching type to the superficial kind thrown off the cuff with a blaze of bold keystrokes. Those words are a part of us and as we release them to the world they become a part of a greater being, one that lives on forever in the minds, and possibly the hearts, of our readers.


Filed under On Life, On Thinking, On Writing

Words – My Love

It seems only fitting on this cherished day of cupids and cherubs and chocolate kisses, to write about the emotion emblazoned on everyone’s deepest desire – love. And even if we don’t have that special someone to write kissy love poems to some of us realize that we have one true love as a writer and that is … words. With words we spill our reddest ink, share our darkest hours, explain our deepest thoughts, and like draining a wound of pus, some of our demons are purged with the use of words. So, too, are the declarations of forever and always imprisoned – permanent promises are penned on this day “to my love” “with all my love” “eternally yours.”

It wouldn’t be Valentine’s Day without the hearts, the chocolates, the roses, the wine –  a song, a whisper, a kiss, a rhyme… Desperation wrapped in parchment, left on the doorsteps of our heart.

If you are going to write about the good and those warm fuzzy feelings that accompany love, you may have to balance it at one time or another by writing about the tearful fears of being alone or without or of being a part of someone’s past. Those are the lessons of the heart, in truth, in life.

Words are my passion and they seem to be the only love to never have left me, judged me, forsaken me for some other love. They are mine and I give them freely so that they may be given back to me in some form, in some way, and at some time. Like my heart.

Here’s an older poem to share on this day, from “Heartsong”:

A Kiss So Fine

Don’t give me a gift that money buys

To hold me close… engenders sighs.

Don’t give me your heart ~ intangible fire…

so when you are gone I am consumed with desire.

Just give me sweet, oh, such sweet bliss.

A kiss so sweet ~ one that I’ll miss.

Touch lips to mine – my knees are weak.

My heart decides to skip a beat.

Just give me sweet, oh, such sweet bliss.

Treat my to your honey-sweet kiss.

Shivered heat recalled – the moment mine.

Memories linger – you’re gone – I’m fine.

(c) Linda J. Pedley 2005


Filed under On Life, On Writing