My decision not to move (at least not for a
while) seems pretty much definite now. I usually know when I’ve made a decision
I’m happy with as it FEELS right, so that’s one problem dealt with. The next thing
I have to tackle is what to do next.
I have a few choices. I could cut back on
work and only do enough to cover expenses. I could write a novel, or rather
finish the one I started yonks ago, I could just write shrot stories and do a
bit of teaching.
The point is I’m not sure what will make me
happy.
If I could choose between an amazing book
deal, fame and fortune, the works, or having a family and being loved, I know
which one I’d take.
Up until now, I’ve always wanted to be the
most amazing writer, with millions in the bank, and worldwide fame, but the
main reason I wanted that was so that my mother would finally have to say ‘wow,
well done.’
When I was writing about fish for magazines
al over the world she took no interest. When I was writing stories for popular
magazines, ditto. I often called and asked her to have a look at Womans Weekly,
My Weekly or whatever, next time she was in Sainsburys. She never did. She’d
always say she couldn’t find the magazine but I knew the truth, she hadn’t
bothered to look. It was the same when I graduated from the Open University.
Most mothers with only one child would order a large copy of the graduation photo.
Mine ordered a 10x8 print. She didn’t even get it framed.
Whatever I did it was never enough to get
her praise. She never said she loved me,
not once. I spent my hole life trying to get her approval or encouragement, or
best of all some sign of affection like a thoughtful gift, or a hug. Now she’s
no longer here, I still feel that same sense of inadequacy. I still feel that
what ever I do will never be good enough.
Now I’m trying hard to get things straight in
my head. Somehow I need to figure out where I want to go, then maybe I can plan
a route to get there.
I know what I DO want and that’s to feel
content most of the time and happy at least some of the time. Riches, fame
success would be nice but without happiness and contentment, they are
worthless.
Sorry about that, but sometimes I need to
vent steam!
Today, John came round to put up a curtain
pole in my bedroom for me. Before he arrived, I worked on a story for a
competition. I posted it on my way to crossword classs.
Working on a competition story made me start thinking about
what the differences are between stories for magazines and those for
competitions. It’s quite a big question as much depends on the competition (the
higher the prize money, the more literary the story that will win it is a very vague
rule of thumb). One way I look at it goes like this – a story for a woman’s
magazine is written to please thousands of readers, a story for a competition
needs to catch the eye of the judge.
Tomorrow Snoopy and Woody are coming just
for the day which is great but annoying as I’m having lunch out with a friend
so that means I have to ask John to come round, again. My feelings for John are
very mixed. At times I want to kill him and if I never saw him again, I’d be
pleased but there are times when I miss having him here.
I know I should break the tie between us
but then I would be completely alone. I know I have friends ‘out there’ but it’s
not the same as having somebody physically here.
I don’t enjoy programmes like University
Challenge when I’m on my own. It’s much more fun with somebody else here.
This is my second fast day (500 calories
max) in a row so I’m feeling famished. I need to have something to eat soon so
it might as well be now.
If anyone has any thoughts on what the
difference is, do get in touch. My email address is akacatherinehoward@yahoo.co.uk
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