Anticipation — good and bad

American culture is built upon anticipation.

The foundling nation, in its Declaration of Independence, declared that its citizens had the right to the pursuit of happiness. Not happiness itself, but the pursuit of happiness with its implication that happiness will be at the end of pursuit.

The consumerist culture of America, likewise, is built upon this anticipation. Every commercial that sells a product or service hooks the buyer through anticipation. The scenario presented on the screen, the promised emotional experience becomes the commodity anticipated; the item purchased is merely the vehicle.

Christmas, likewise, is sold to Americans through everything from commercials to Hallmark movies. There must be family, of course; a big meal; a big tree with presents underneath; an admonition despite all the focus on accumulation that Christmas is in the heart.

The problem with anticipation is that it often builds into a fantasy against which reality can’t measure. The family get-together involves political divisiveness, or such lack of acceptance from parents that it’s made unbearable. The person tasked with making the big dinner grows resentful at the lack of appreciation and the pile of dishes. The presents don’t provide as much joy as expected. One’s heart isn’t feeling Christmas.

My Christmas doesn’t look like the one being sold on TV. My husband and I travel seven hours to visit my relatives, who do not greet us effusively. We have no children, and we leave our Christmas tree back home. We mingle with people celebrating Christmas and Hanukkah and many other holidays. The lodge we stay at is the only thing that looks like a Hallmark Christmas.

And I anticipate this escape every year, and it doesn’t disappoint me.

Holiday Travel

I didn’t write yesterday because I was on the road from the far northwest corner of Missouri to Illinois to visit my family and celebrate Christmas. I’m in town now, typing this at Jeremiah Joe’s in Ottawa, IL, watching children misbehave next to the Christmas tree in the big display windows left over from when this space was Famous Department Store.

I’m getting old. I’m talking in that way older people talk: “I remember when this was Famous Department Store …” It’s inevitable that, when one gets old enough to see things change, that one documents the change aloud. I don’t like admitting I’m old; there’s still that part of me that thinks younger men should be conducting courtly displays of mischievous intellectualism toward me, but I’m officially past my expiration date for that.

The white Christmas this year will be only in our dreams, given that highs this week will be in the 40s and there’s no precipitation in the forecast. I might be able to take a Christmas hike at Starved Rock State Park. I wonder if that’s a thing.

It looks like my dev edit has been delayed till New Years (thank goodness; I wasn’t ready for a Christmas present that would make me cry!) No, I know all of what I’m getting for Christmas, unless the universe decides to surprise me with good news about my writing.

************
Yule was yesterday, Hanukkah starts tonight, Christmas is Wednesday. Good greetings to all of you!

Apprehensive about the dev edit

Maybe I’m a bit apprehensive about my dev edit. My new dev editor says she wrote 2500 words on the first two chapters alone. That’s about half the words in the actual chapters.

I’m afraid I’m going to be overwhelmed with the whole thing. Maybe I will go through the list and come up with short summaries of what I need to do.

I mean it’s a good thing she’s this thorough. I asked for it — in fact, I paid her to be thorough. This is what I want. But it’s still intimidating, and still difficult, and still likely to make me feel like I just can’t write. I’ll need to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and tell myself it’s for my own good.

I will be editing a bit over Christmas at Starved Rock; I always bring my laptop on trips for that reason. But the bulk of this editing will be when I return from my trip.

Wish me luck.

Looking forward to dev edit

My developmental editor has warned me that there’s LOTS of comments on the manuscript she’s turning in to me this week. LOTS.

I think she doesn’t want to freak me out. My only worry is that there’s going to be so much to process I don’t know where to start. But it’s exciting to be able to delve into improving my work.

Note: this is going to be short because I’m typing it on my phone. I’m typing it on my phone because my cat is on my lap cleaning itself. Oh, the hardships I go through …

Taking a vacation

Feeling a little down. That happens at the end of every semester. I think it’s because I’m always in high gear to get through the semester, and then nothing. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m tired yet antsy. I suddenly have no goals. It’s hard to deal with.

Too much time to think. I suddenly have to fight a bunch of negative self-talk, I don’t feel inspired to write. I get grouchy.

The solution: get up, do something. Go to the cafe and perhaps try something new. Conversely, get lots of sleep and meditation. Do something different for a change of pace.

In other words, take a vacation.

Dear Santa:

I dream of getting published by a major publishing house. Think of it as my visions of sugarplums for the season. I have no idea if my wish is overly ambitious, or if you can grant it.

I don’t know if you answer adults’ wishes. I suppose if you did, you’d have to have McMansions and Maseratis in that big bottomless sack of yours. And I don’t know if you answer everyone’s wishes, because there are children starving and children separated from their families, and you haven’t granted their wishes. To be honest, if you have to choose between me and those children, I’d prefer you give them comfort and peace and all good things.

But I still wish, because I’m superstitious. I hope that it’s possible for you to hook into that ephemeral luck and catch its attention for a fleeting second so my manuscript gets a second look.

So if you’re listening, Santa …

Waiting for the Snow

I love keeping up with weather forecasts when a winter storm is coming.

Yesterday, the National Weather Service said our area was to get 2-4 inches, then 4-6. This morning I wake up to find out we’re going to get 1-2 inches. Hardly enough to justify putting the snow boots on, and certainly not enough to justify an emergency trip to the store to buy bread and milk.

I’d like some picturesque snow, enough to cover drab lawns and make for a cozy evening. But I don’t want too much snow, or else I won’t be able to get dug out in time to go to Starved Rock for Christmas.

I should know better than to expect the weather to conform to my wishes. I’ve been stuck in my house during blizzards only to watch the snow melt the next morning, driven into a half-mile wide blizzard on the interstate, snowed in for two-three days when a storm dropped 36 inches of snow overnight.

But still, I hope the snow doesn’t ruin my plans for travel.

That feeling that something’s going to happen

The feeling like something is about to happen.

It feels like an itch between the shoulderblades, so deep that no amount of itching could get rid of it. Like a target is painted there and I can feel where the arrow is going to land, but it hasn’t landed yet.

Most of the time I feel like this, nothing happens.

If anything prompts this feeling, it’s the belief something should be happening and frustration that it’s not. I’ve just got off for break, I don’t go back in until the second or so week of January, and I don’t know what to do with myself.

I could work (I have a poster to do) but my brain is still tired from finishing up the semester and it’s Saturday.

I could rest, but that’s the sort of thing that brings up this feeling something should be happening.

I could write — I probably should write. That would likely get me out of the house, because I write better at the cafe. A short story awaits.

My semester is over! Now what to do?

I’m on break and I already don’t know what to do with myself.

I’m too bored to surf and not motivated enough to write. Or do anything that uses my brain.

This will definitely not do.

What I’d really like to do is spend a day or two at a spa. As I’m 120 miles from a spa, that is not happening.

So I’m probably going to go to the cafe and see how much I can get written on Kami today.

Short note — so sleepy, cannot brain.

So sleepy. Cannot brain.

My last final is today, and after that I’ve only got internships to grade, and grades to turn in, and I’m done for winter break.

I just need coffee to get through this. Luckily it’s on the brew.

**********

The coffee has arrived.

It might take two cups of coffee to get through this.

Or maybe even three.

***********

After break, stories to write. I’m a little torn at the expansion of Kami, because my writing is filling the background up — with Barn Swallows’ Dance, with its magic. I’m afraid it will be too strange for the contest I want to enter it in. Ah well, I knew I’m not that standard.

Have a great day!