Update: A Story of a Family (working title)

I've mostly made edits today. Not a lot of additional story line nor character development, but the typical English teacher I-can't-stand-for-my-verb-tenses-to-be-inconsistent stuff.

Lemme give you a little run-down. Let's see if your curiosity is piqued at all.

The story follows 3 generations: Maggie, her nephew Joe, and Joe's daughter Meg. I employ flashback throughout the entire novel - the stories run simultaneously, really.

Maggie is 15 in 1941. She lives on a Kansas wheat farm with her hard-working parents, a German Catholic family with only enough money to "get by" since their lives were hit hard in the Great Depression when Maggie and her 2 older sisters were small. One of the most exciting events in their lives is the annual county fair where the girls enter baked goods and livestock in competitions, and where they can "let loose" for an evening. Maggie meets a young man at the fair, a hired man who travels with the amusements. He woos her for two nights and leaves. A few months later, she realizes she is pregnant and is sent by her mother to have the baby at her eldest sister's house where the community & her father will not find out. Maggie must give the baby up for adoption before she can return to her family. While she is under the care of her sister and brother-in-law, she bonds strongly with one of the couple's children, a sickly little boy named Josiah (Joe). She cares for him tenderly and gives him the affection he lacks from his parents.

Flash forward to 1970. Joe is about 30 years old and has a young wife. He has graduated college, thanks to his Aunt Maggie's tutelage and financial support, with a degree in pharmacy, and is able to buy his own pharmacy after a decade of working tirelessly to earn enough money. He becomes a community success story, and when he has a daughter of his own (in the late '70s), he names her Margaret after his aunt. When the pharmacy comes into hard times in the mid '80s, Joe allows a partner to buy out 49% of the store to keep it up and running.

Meg is a curious and precocious young girl who is devoted to her dad and her great-aunt. She loves to spend time with both, and often writes about them in short stories. As a young adult she grows to wonder about a mysterious illness overtaking her father and about the hushed history of her great-aunt Maggie.


And that's all I'm going to say about that...


There's some great plot twists that I don't want to give away just yet, but this is the bare bones of it. Would you open it if it were a book in your hands?

Iiiii'm Ready!

Spongebob's little mantra is swimming in my head right now as I revisit an old novel I began a couple years ago. It is one of those epic multi-generational projects I must get exactly right before I publish. I think it was that daunting concept that scared me into halting the project before I had written 2 full chapters. Granted, there are so far more than 4 mini-chapters as I break up each full chapter by generation.

After reading (and editing a few minor issues like syntax & dates) what I've written so far, I am a little ashamed I put it away for so long. It's not half bad. I'm actually sort of proud of its poetic descriptions and the width & breadth of the storyline. I have an outline (which is something I neglected in the last story I began, and probably a major force behind halting that project as well), and I hadn't realized just how much I had planned.

So off to write again, kiddies. Less time on Facebook (maybe) and reading others' writing (although I will not stop that, believe me), and more time on developing these wonderful characters again. Wish me luck.

Ever Feel Less Than?

Less than...

Less than perfect.
Less than excellent.
Less than great.
Less than good.
Less than alright.
Less than eh.
Less than nothing?

Yeah. That was my evening yesterday.

I have been so proud, so excited, and so ready to take on this promotion at school. I have worked my butt off for 12 years to earn my stripes there. I've been through 4 principals, countless assistant principals, 2 department chairs, and more colleagues than I can count. I've gone from being the youngest member of my department of 19 people to one of the "seasoned veterans" in a shrinking department of 10. I have earned a Master's degree, several awards, served on many committees, coached, sponsored, and attended so many conferences it'd make your head spin.

Now I have a chance to lead my department, to organize and support my fellow English teachers, to make decisions about scheduling and budgeting and curriculum, to help my colleagues become better teachers, but I have always felt less than nothing when a certain, nameless, person enters the room. I do not what I've ever done to deserve the amount of disrespect and disdain with which this woman gives me, but I have tried to prove my competence - nay! my excellence! - to my bosses and my peers for 12 years, and I just don't know what it would take to earn her respect.

Part of me doesn't want to care. Lie. All of me doesn't want to care, but all of me does. I am not a big enough person (yeah, keep the short jokes to yourself) to not care what people think of me. I'm insecure in many ways, but professionally I am usually totally secure. But not when she's in the room. I don't get a hello. I don't get a nod. When I ask a question, I get nothing but a terse do-not-bother-me-you-peon reply.

The whole situation yesterday made me reflect more about how I treat people. I know there are people in my life who for one reason or another grate on my nerves. I usually just let them be, but I don't think I'm ever outwardly rude or show absolute intolerance when they're sharing the same air. Do I? I'm usually pretty darn friendly, to be honest. In fact, there are so few people who truly irritate me that I don't think I hardly even think about it much.

So, yeah, it's her problem, right? She's the one with the issue - not me, right? Not everyone has to like me, right? I don't care if everyone likes me so much as I feel like I've earned the right to have a little more consideration than what I get. I'm damn good at what I do. I've got more talent in my pinkie finger for working with kids than many people will ever realize. I am friggen' smart, too. I am an awesome diplomat - most of the time. Yeah, yeah. I feel like Stuart Smally here. My daily affirmations... "And doggone it, people like me."

So screw anyone who doesn't think I'm the shiznit, right? Yeah. Tell me that when I have to be in the same room with this person the next time.