Here We Go Again...

I have a hard time doing these end of year recap things because I have the worst memory but I kind of feel compelled to do them because maybe it’s nice to have a point in life in which you stop and take a look back at what has happened for you over a certain period of time. Reflect and whatnot. 

Like I said, I have a terrible memory and I’m not about to go back through the months of my blog to figure out what I did and didn’t do. I think in 2012 I will keep a list somewhere.  A list of milestone things or the books I read, new music I fell in love with or discovered, etc.  I kind of like reading everyone’s lists and it sucks that I can’t remember past last Tuesday.  Ugh, and I KNOW I will forget something after I hit publish. Argh.

Anyway, here goes.

---I made a pretty monumental trip this year to AWP and met internet people and did a reading and got drunk and danced and met internet people and felt awkward and met internet people.  It was the most surreal experience I’ve ever had.  People were treating me like…I don’t know…like I was a special person.  Important.  I’m not used to feeling that way. 

I finally met my internet bro and good buddy, Mel Bosworth.  That was a heart fulfilling thing.  He was exactly what I expected and awesomer than I expected.  It was the greatest.

I also met my longtime internet friend, Robb Todd, in a surprise moment I will remember forever.  Drunken hand holding never felt so good.  A tremendous human being.

But the best thing about that trip was finally meeting Roxane and sharing a hotel room and every day with her.  Sometimes you make ‘best friends’ online and wonder if IRL it will be the same way it is through this little box.  What if the vibe is not there? What if your best connection you will ever have with that person is only fortified through distance and separation?  Reasonable fears.  Luckily, there was none of that for Roxane and me.  We hit it off like peas and carrots.  And then we hit it off more.  Like strippers and poles or something.  Words cannot express the feelings I have of our time spent together at AWP.  All I will say is I ripped off a piece of her frayed jeans, something of something she had worn a lot that I felt was a part of her, and kept it in my purse just so I could have something that came from something that was close to her.  It’s still in my purse. Right now it’s in my purse.  I take it out and feel it with my fingers every so often.  It’s like a touchstone.  I can say so much more but I think that might say it all.   

---Early this year I ran a really long race.  I am not a runner.  I am a walker. It was hard.  I spent months training and when the day came, I ran that race.  I ran that whole race without stopping or walking. It was the furthest I had ever run in my life. Eight miles. When I began training, I couldn’t run for even one minute.   It was a huge thing for me.  It made me change the script I had always written about myself.  It made me believe that things you thought were impossible for yourself can be made possible through lots of hard work and determination.  I will always be proud of myself for this and use the knowledge of this when I run into the next thing I feel is impossible which is

---Writing a book.  This year I haven’t been writing as many short stories because I spent a large amount of my time trudging through what, hopefully, will become a novel.  Not a collection of stories, but ONE story.  It’s fucking hard as hell.  I’ve been drawing from my race experience and applying it to writing this novel.  One foot in front of the other type of shit.  Don’t give up type of shit.  Look, you’re doing it, you’re really doing it type of shit.  I am on a break from it now, but I will pick it up after the new year.  It would be so easy to give up on it.  So damn easy.  Like how it would’ve been easy to just stop training for that race.  But then I never would’ve run that race or finished it like I did.  I know I can do the same thing with this book.  I know it will be long and painful and shin splints and rain and cold and sweat but I also know there will be joy and elation and pride and happiness and that, in the end, I will have a fucking ribbon and medal and giant cardboard check made out for $333,333,333 dollars in my real name because, folks, this book is not for xTx, it’s for the girl that hides behind her.

---There was a pretty huge thing that happened in my private life this year.  A life changer.  That’s all I will say about that. 

---An incredible human being in my real life died earlier this year.  It was unexpected. He was a joy to many people and I will miss him.  His death reminded me…reminds me…that life is short and you only have RIGHT NOW so don’t waste it.

Miss you, man… 

---Back to the writing, I probably published half of what I published the year before.  That’s okay.  I didn’t submit as much.  I got solicited a lot and the places I submitted to and AM submitting to now are the bigger journals which are more of a challenge. Lots of fucking rejection. But if you don’t push yourself to aim higher, reach further, where is the challenge?  I can’t keep submitting to the places that have already published me that already ‘like’ me.  I think that’s like a kid showing her artwork to her parents and grandparents all the time and getting the same praise over and over again.  Some people probably find comfort in that.  But, for me, it’s too easy.  Take that fingerpainting out on the street, get some real opinions.  Ouch—yes. But there could be praise waiting as well.  Might make you work a bit harder on those paintings though…  Might end up with a fucking masterpiece. 

I want to make masterpieces.

Segue.

I guess the biggest thing for me this year is I had my first book published.  I’ve received primarily positive reviews and feedback on the book.  It currently has a Goodreads rating of 4.48 if that means anything. I’ve sold a fair amount of them and none to any friends or family members because none of them know the book exists. (sadface)  This means hundreds of people I don’t even know are buying my book. HUNDREDS.  I think those are all great things.  I am proud of this book and it was a great experience…having a book.  It’s a nice little book.  If I could write a letter to my book, I would write the following letter:

Dear Normally Special,

Thank you for being my first book.  I know one day I may look back at you and think different or new things about you, but right now, I am proud of you and what you’ve accomplished.  You are not the best book that is out in the world, but you are a good book and you can hold your own with your little head held high.  Feel good about this.  I know I do.

I’m sorry I maybe put some ugly things inside you, but Norm, we all have ugly things inside of us.  The ones I put inside of you are just there for everyone to see.  So, I hope you aren’t upset over that.  I think maybe it’s the ugly things that helps endear you to readers.  Watch their eyes.  I bet they do not look away and if they do, it’s only for a moment to catch their breath.

It’s been a great first year and in the years to come I hope that more people find you and find things inside of you that find things inside of them.  That’s really all I’ve ever wanted for you.  For us.

I love you. 

Regards,

Mom

Lastly, but never least, thank you to all the awesome people who read and liked my writing this year and any year.  Thanks to all the people who read my blog.  Thanks to everyone who linked my shit, pimped my shit and commented on my shit and tweeted my shit.  It all matters to me.  It all means a lot.  You mean a lot. Special thanks to my new friend, Casey Hannan, who was the nicest surprise for me this year, Team 369–GFYMB, Mel Bosworth, Frank Hinton and Roxane Gay who I couldn’t have made it through this year without. 

Have a great holiday.  Have a great new year.  Let’s all make things that count next year.  Let’s all be better than we have ever been and help each other in that endeavor.  Let’s all try to rival the stars.

xoxox