Mommy Writes

Money 

My neighbor told me she was going out shopping because a person was coming in to clean.

Your carpets? I asked.

No, the house.

I silently skulked away…to clean my own house.

Is it me, or does it seem the world has a ton more money than I do? Are we the only family that still owns a second hand stereo that my husband bought during college, the components of which require a ten hour set-up and special old school wiring each time we move?

Maybe I forgot to buy the “How to Afford Really Expensive Stuff While Still Being Middle Class For Dummies” book. Because there seems to be a whole bunch of people out there who can do more than us, have better stuff than us, and have the appearance of making a whole bunch more money than us. Their kids certainly do not wear the stuff I pick up at Target for my brood.

So what is going on? I mean it. I could shout it out my window. I’m going to do it right now…

Okay, I’m back. And I’m still asking, what the heck is going on? There are McMansions all around us. Do people really make this much money? Are there really this many people who can afford the Orange County lifestyle…in their thirties. Gulp.

I’m stepping back to say, yes, I know it’s not all about money yadda, yadda, yadda, but this post is all about money and the fact that everyone seems to have it coming out their ears, right?

The television tells us this. I watched a movie the other night where a security guard owned a house in the middle of the city that looked better than any house I could imagine a security guard’s salary affording. And it seems we are the only family in the universe without a gargantuan flat screen television and cell phones that do everything…except clean your house.

It’s not that I want, want, want…although I would like a cell phone that doesn’t look like it belongs in a cell phone museum. But I would like to know, how do people have all this money? And, if you tell me, there’s a really cool stereo system in your future.

So you may be looking to make a little money off this blogging thing… But you’re not looking to blatantly advertise on your site and you just happen to like to read. Well, I highly recommend working with MotherTalk.

I did a few reviews with them and LOVED it! Here are links to mine:

Oh - a fiction contest. Ack - a fiction contest. I have sworn off fiction for awhile, but will this suck me back in? To be continued….

WRITER’S GUIDELINES
SEND US YOUR TRUE SHORT STORIES NOW

Multiple Volumes Currently in Pre-Production

SUBMISSION DEADLINE: June 1, 2008

Release Dates: TBA 2008, 2009 & 2010 (check website)

GENERAL INFORMATION ON THE BOOK SERIES:
God Allows U-Turns,100 W. Southlake Blvd., Suite 142-238, Southlake, TX 76092
Phone/Fax (817) 442-0721
Web: www.godallowsuturns.com
E-mail: stories@godallowsuturns.com
To submit stories: stories@godallowsuturns.com

 Current books they are accepting submissions for:

 God Allows U-Turns – Parents Setting Boundaries
God Allows U-Turns – Boomer Babes Rock!
God Allows U-Turns – Writing from the Heart and Soul

Over the past year, I’ve learned something about writing. You either are a “literary” writer or a commercial writer.

 I am a commercial writer.

I try to fool myself into thinking that I can do the literary thing, but I fail miserably. I write like I talk and that does not include a whole bunch of flowery description or pondering of feelings. In fact, when I read a book, I usually skip all of the parts that do not involve moving the story forward.

Right now, I am sure there is someone who tisk-tisking me. Shame on you for not wanting to dig deeper into your mind, expand your vocabulary and the horizons of others - how pitiful that you write without depth.

Well, that’s me. And I cannot fake it the other way.

I am Milky Way not truffles. 

Sometimes I do feel shame over this fact. This usually comes when I attempt writing for a literary outlet. And get a rejection letter. I know I shouldn’t even attempt it, but it’s like when I was in high school and I tried to hang out with the theater crowd.

The shame may not be all self-imposed. These publications usually state “we don’t want something you can find in a big glossy magazine - think out of the box!”

I like the box. It’s comfortable in there and it’s quiet. And maybe you should stop sounding so heady and full of yourself. (oops did I say that out loud?).

This is my life. And I’ll write about it like I want to.

(PS/ Yes, I know I’m crazy behind in this blog, but just pretend you saw this post last Thursday while I try to catch up )

Commercials

I used to know all the words to at least twenty commercials when I was a kid. I could recite them verbatim. Hum the tune. Even give the same intonations as the announcer.

Now, at the ripe old age of thirty-three, I just feel plain old insulted by them.

And the commercials aimed at moms are really making me grumpy.

First: the Juicy Juice ads. Let me quote, “The Very Best Juice for the Very Best Kids.”

So what this implies to me is that “The Very Crappy Juice is for the Very Crappy Kids.” Or at least the kids whose parents cannot afford pricey non-concentrate, un-corn syrup drinks. 99 cents and a bottle of water gets you a whole jug of Kool-Aid folks. Straight up sugar.

I particularly enjoy the part in the commercial where they show the kid dressed up as high fructose corn syrup so everyone can really see what the Crappy Kids drink.

Next up on my mom radar as the 2nd most annoying and insulting commercial is the Suave shampoo motherhood campaign. Did you know that 89% of us have said that we’ve let ourselves go?  And did you know that all you have to do is run out and buy Suave shampoo and you’ll suddenly be beautiful again!

Seriously, this is ALL you have to do.  And if I see this ad one more time telling me this, I might seriously go tell those Suave people what they can do with their bottle of shampoo. 

What happened to the good old days of two all beef patties special sauce lettuce cheese pickles onions on a sesame bun, Big Mac. Simple. To the point. And no guilt.

Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t want to search for links for this Tuesday’s post, but I think it was the startling article I ran across in Time magazine while on the elliptical at the gym (which was about 1 hour ago) that made me write this.  So I will provide you with one link. It is to the article. It’s about the trend of TAKING YOUR CHILD TO WORK. 

(Note that it was a month old issue - my gym reading consists of other people’s magazine hand-me-downs)

Who could possibly think this is a good idea?

Supermom MUST really exist. Not only does she work, but she works AND takes care of the kids at the same time. I’ve really got to think that this article does not give the full story because I can’t seem to make dinner and take care of the kids, so how the heck would someone do a full-time job that requires making phone calls with real, live adults while juggling a baby!

The article starts with “A cooing baby in the next cubicle?” What universe are these people living on? I don’t think my baby “cooed” for the first six months of his life, but he certainly did cry a lot. I guess they are both c words, and maybe the childless writer of the article got mixed up.

Seriously folks, am I out of touch?

Because, if I am, let me stay that way. I can’t see how this situation is good for anyone - most of all the baby. Something tells me this is more feel good hype than reality. (Nanny hiding under the desk?) Working moms have it hard enough without making them feel inferior if they can’t mommy and run a meeting at the same time. And babies don’t need to be working at the age of 6 weeks.

Call me old school, but I grew up reading my mother’s Good Housekeeping and somehow it stuck with me. 

So, I was happy to see yet another opportunity for personal essay submissions on the back page called Blessings.  Here’s what their web site has to say:

Submissions will be reviewed for the Blessings column on the back page. Submissions should be 500 words, about a person or event that proved to be a blessing in your life. We will also review health narratives — stories of women (or a family member) who’ve overcome a significant medical problem, undergone a medical “first” or had a dramatic rescue.

Send submissions to:
Good Housekeeping
Article Submissions
300 W 57th Street, 28th floor
New York, NY 10019

But there is also an email address here.

Almost every list I have come across on markets for personal essays/memoirs, has included Cup of Comfort.

Here is what their web site says:

 A Cup of Comfort is a bestselling anthology (book) series featuring uplifting true stories about the experiences and relationships that inspire and enrich our lives. These slice-of-life stories are written by people from all walks of life and provide unique personal insights into powerful universal truths.

Here are their submission guidelines and the titles they are working on.

Colleen Sell is the editor for this series. Last year, she selected one of my essays as a finalist for one of the books. Unfortunately (boo hoo), it was cut from the final 56 when they went down to 50 ish stories.

I’m hoping for a better outcome this year, as one of my stories was picked as a semi-finalist for Cup of Comfort For Breast Cancer Survivors, but we’ll have to see!

Okay, so my writing road has been a long one to me. Maybe not to the ninety-year-old guy who sits in the back of every writer’s conference I’ve ever been to, but it’s been a good 25 years. I wrote my first “book” in the third grade. I believe it was titled: HOW LAKES FREEZE. It discussed my theory that Martians came in the middle of the night and froze large bodies of water with their freeze guns. A non-fiction piece of art.

Well, somehow I strayed from my natural leaning toward creative non-fiction genre. I launched into a series of fiction pieces in late high school and but I did become the feature section editor for my school paper. Fast forward eight years and through some career ventures that yielded $ but little , I began writing for two community newspapers on anything from book reviews to local news to restaurant reviews (yum).

Then I wrote fiction for six years.

That’s all I’m going to say about that.

Okay, then I woke up one day and said…hmm…I want to write about stuff that’s happened to me. And I want to make it read like fiction.

This is when I banged my head against my desk about a zillion times, and started my creative non-fiction marathon pumping out story after story after story… with my thirty or so “clips” and my blogging adventures on several sites, I am headed toward semi-success (see last week and future weeks) in this “genre”. 

What did I learn? Hey, I may LOVE to read fiction, I may LOVE the idea of being a fiction writer, but I do not LOVE toiling endlessly on something that is not going anywhere.

I heart creative non-fiction.

And it only took twenty-five years to figure it out.