At 17:26 CST, I emailed my chapbook submission to Robert Lee Brewer for the 2009 November PAD Chapbook Challenge. It culminated the month-long fits and starts through this morning, to edit and revise, to make better the stuff I’d posted.

I knew what I was in for when I took this on: I had to get a handle on my doubt demons and let them know this was going to happen. That’s my usual block but I really wanted this. I had to get around my family. I don’t really spell it out for them, just try to avoid them when I need to. And, my other one is the doubt about knowing what I am doing.

Calling for Reinforcements

I took a look at the poems and discovered an amazing thing: they really didn’t work for me after revisiting. The poems were going to need serious work.

My second thought was to stop with finishing the writing part. After all, that part alone is a big accomplishment. Then I remembered my goal to complete the whole process. Following Robert’s suggestion, I waited a few days until the weekend, and reassured myself that I only needed 10 pages—even I could do that.

So, I picked the most bearable, up to 19 pages, printed them up and left them alone again. I went in search of materials that would make me think I could pull this off. For inspiration, I turned to The Poetry Home Repair Manual © 2005 by Ted Kooser, notes from Sonya Feher’s post about editing poems, and The Waste Land by T. S. Elliot.

• Ted Kooser was the 2004-2006 US Poet Laureate, so I read his book a few years back and I really liked it.
• The Sonya Feher post listed 5 steps, some I did already and the others worked in my head when I read them.
• If you’re wondering what the last book had to do with it all, it’s inspiration of a different sort. You see, this book version has in it Elliot’s original draft with his strike through marks and word changes. It gives me hope.

This collection was my sustenance through December edits.

So, I’m Content

A few times I thought I might give up. I know there’s so much I need to learn about poetry. Loving it really isn’t all there is to it. Then I made myself a deal. I’ll finish this project and revisit it at the end of the year, after I’ve learned stuff (part of my 2010 plan). It will be good to see how the poems look to me and what changes I might make then. Reminds me of the pre-tests and post tests in school.

With that, my first deadline for 2010 is met! It’s a great way to start the year. Although I will admit, it was rather anti-climatic when I pressed the send button. I worked hard, did my best, finishing with only hours to spare. And then the question: what if my best isn’t good enough? It took me a couple of hours to let it sink in that this project was complete. Win or not, I followed through and that’s my big win…Now I have to get about the business of studying poetry.

Where to start? What do you invest in studying the craft of poetry? Do you work to expand your skills? How do you go about it? If you have some ideas for me, please share them in comments.

NaNoWriMo: My Incomplete Success

First the bad news: My novel remains unfinished. I didn’t meet my goal of 50,000 words by November 30. And I’m alright with that. In fact, I’ll be fine with it but not yet—hat’s coming.

And the good news: While I was disappointed in myself for not finishing, I know what stopped me. Now, it’s not that I have good excuses because I don’t. I just learned more about me and the land mines I allowed to stop me. Tells me a lot about what to look out for next time. Yes, there will be a next time.

The other good thing that came of this effort was that I learned that I still have the passion to write long pieces of fiction. And, my biggest take–away is that I have the beginning of a novel that I really like. So, while I didn’t make my deadline, I’m still going to write the novel.

2009 November PAD Chapbook Challenge

The poems are done! I finished them on time even though I got a little behind a few times in the month. That was quite thrilling for me but that’s only half the project.

The rest of the challenge lies in completing the poem edits and submitting them before January 5, 2010. If you would like to read the poems visit the roundup on my page the 2009 PAD November Chapbook Challenge, under the Poems main tab.

This project was very much worth the effort. I learned that I have the strength to let poems go out into the cosmos of cyber space. I trust my editing more. Not that it’s all that good, but that I know how to carve out and leave in what reflects me. I make what works for me and offer it up to others to enjoy or not.

Making changes on the fly, working to find the right words came easy and hard depending on different factors—but the changes came. I’ll be exploring in more detail what I got out of these activities. Come back and check it out. Tell me about your writing project experiences.

By the way, I would have finished this post yesterday but my brain was a lot fried from the challenges. I didn’t have my sea legs back yet. Or would that be sea fingers? As a bonafide landlubber, I’m not even sure I have permission to say that. At any rate, I’m better today.

What I was going to tell you before my distraction was that I’m going to try NaNoWriMo again this year. Last year I signed up and didn’t get much further than that. Last year, I signed up on November 1, and fell apart shortly thereafter.

This year I gave myself a little more warning, little more time for self-talk, tools and ideas. Time to play around with the endeavor and sort of slide into next month like it was any other November.

Since November 7 is my birthdate, and that’s so close to the year’s end, I try to set goals for conclusion by that date. I figured that it’s so early in the month, my novel writing can be minimal (1666.67 daily to meet the 50,000 requirement by November 30) until the 7th and then I can go all out. That was the plan.

Poetry Interrupted

This blog is a hodgepodge of my less constrained proclivities and inspirations. The main reason I started it was so that I’d have a place to put the more random machinations I claim. First on the list is poetry. I enjoy writing poems, and this is my place to put the ones I’m willing to share. Pictures are included and writing in other genres, but poetry got me started here. And poetry is the reason I’m adjusting my plans for next month.

I read a tweet from @inkyelbows and had to check it out. Here’s what I found: Poetic Asides: 2009 November PAD Chapbook Challenge.

Yes, November—2009—next month. Overlap city, right? Here’s the thing though; both can suck. It’s not about achieving final-draft quality in a first draft. It’s about reaching the quantity goal. There’ll be time for editing after November.

Poetry is the stuff that sustains me. I give myself the task of writing a poem a day sometimes for weeks or months. So I know it can yield some useful material. Besides, it was on my list of stuff to do this year. And, although I was planning to postpone a new collection again,  I’ve had a second thought.

Just Do It

Without giving it too much room to scare me, I’m committing to both! C’est la vie, c’est la guerre. If I have to avoid family and friends in my spare time for one project, I may as well do it for the other too. Besides, it’ll be great to see just what I’m made of. [I could use a smiley face here.]

And I’ve been practicing and preparing to get it done. I’ve been working on my typing stamina, and playing around with ideas and scenarios. I’ve never written a novel, so the wow factor is good for a few boosts throughout the month. So it should work out.

Coming soon is my Writing page. That’s what was scheduled for today. On that page, I’ll post the cool meters I’ll be using for my progress. Here’s where you can add me at NaNoWriMo: Shari Lynne Smothers. Come check me out, cheer me on, or tease. I’m doing this! What are you doing for November?

My grandmother died March 30, 2003. It was painful and breathtaking. And then…

Maybe ten days later, my father was rushed to the ER. Blood clots were killing him. By the time I got to the hospital, dad’s heart had stopped and he’d been resuscitated twice.

The doctor working with him asked if we wanted to sign DNR papers. I didn’t want that and I was certain my mom didn’t, but she was so distraught she couldn’t make the decision.

My dad died twice more and was revived without having to crack his chest, before my mom made her decision. In fact, she never made the decision.

My dad stabilized again and this time they were able to move him to the ICU for monitoring. None of his doctors expected him to get better. In defiance of all expectations, he got better. Slowly, steadily, and the doctors just watched. No surgery, just monitoring and maintaining his breathing and blood pressure.

He’ll be Fine

The next day, I was in his hospital room. I’d never seen him waylaid and it was unnerving. At the door, I hesitated to see him with all those tubes coming out of his body, and the ventilator breathing for him. I watched him for a moment longer, adjusting to seeing my dad look so human, so mortal. I touched his foot, then his hand, then his arm. I whispered in his ear, I love you, dad.

My twenty minutes was up and the same hesitation I had entering the room came to me again as I was leaving. At the foot of his bed, I turned to look at him even though it grieved me so, to see him down like this. I knew that if I could, I would have switched places with him. Suddenly, quietly as if a voice whispered in my ear, I heard in my head, no need, he’ll be fine.

I trusted that voice, and told my mom about it. And I was done worrying. I was just waiting for him to get better. I still hated to see him go through all that he had to. He was conscious only infrequently. One Saturday, I went to visit him before a picnic. I talked and he would nod a little. And then my time was up. I said I love you dad and he squeezed my hand. I was so excited that tears escaped my eyes. And he smiled because he knew he got to me. With a lump in my throat, I think I floated out of his room that day.

His Healing Affected Many

Dad had a team of doctors each in the top of his field and no one could explain why he was getting better. One doctor named it the miracle it was. He said they weren’t doing anything for my dad that they hadn’t done for many other patients before him. Most of them didn’t get better–at all. Another of his doctors would stop in, check the machine and vitals and leave shaking his head in dismay. That was the doctor that offered my mom the DNR papers.

Attempts to take him off the ventilator failed until they gave him a bronchoscopy to clear his lungs. That was all it took. He got off the ventilator and never went back.

When my dad left ICU alive, he went on the ward. A very special nurse who cared for him in ICU came up to see him one day. She always talked to my dad in ICU. On this particular visit, my dad talked back. His throat was still sore from the ventilator pipe, so it was a whisper but it was his voice. Her tears flowed. She told him to keep talking and please excuse her; she explained that it was the first time she’d heard him at all.

From the hospital ward, my dad was transferred out to a rehabilitation facility to get his strength and coordination back, so that he could function normally again. You see, he suffered no permanent damage to his motor skills. The day he was leaving the hospital, the ER nurse who took care of him the first day was there. He reached up to my dad in the ambulance and shook his hand. With red, tearing eyes, he hugged my mom, my brother and me one after the other. He explained that in his job he didn’t get to see cases like my dad come to happy conclusions.

Rehabilitation got him to the point where he could go home safely. I drove my dad home from that facility and we never looked back. At home we had to tell him to slow down because he was still recovering. His days were filled with big events, travels and small events too. There were graduations, swearing in’s, weddings, births, Hurricane Katrina, relocation to Houston, fights with insurance companies, trips back and forth. Four years was given to us all.

Time to Go

Then, in April 2007 he was diagnosed with lung cancer. October 25, 2007 my dad died. This time I knew it was coming–not that I ever stopped hoping. I knew that I was strong enough.

My Lessons from the Mountaintops

Erwin Raphael McManus wrote “Gratitude is the healing ointment for brokeness.” And I know it to be true.

What I learned is that gratitude can see me through even the harshest things. Gratitude is how I made it through. It’s a funny thing gratitude. From a little girl, when I tried to be upset or disappointed about something, my mom would say, count your blessings, name them one by one. It was frustrating sometimes but I did it. So, I grew into a habit of gratitude. Still, to experience it in action, on big things, is profound.

Today, I miss my dad–like salt. I have a life time of memories to sustain me. And this: Throughout the time he was ill, I was available to him, helping him, keeping him company, talking to him when he didn’t have strength to talk anymore. And I am grateful beyond words, beyond measure that I was there for him.

I wrote this for the Middle Zone Musings June group writing project, What  I Learned From…a Mountaintop Experience