No, really, I’m going somewhere with this. That little bomp noise, that’s my heart beat. It gets a little crazy when I think about it beating. If I can hear it, or if someone’s taking my blood pressure or listening to it then it beats much faster. Makes me nervous for people to listen to it. I don’t know why, it’s not as if they’re going to discover I don’t have a heart.
It didn’t kill me. I didn’t die. I didn’t come anywhere close to dying. I mean I got that anxious feeling where you kind of get light-headed, but mostly I was concerned with making sure the right .doc was in the attachment line, the docs were properly formatted and my name was on everything. Still, that little tiny, nagging fear gripped my heart as I pushed send to enter the Weta Nichols Writing Contest. Then I ran my eyes over TRS to make sure all was well–it was the one that needed more editing. And then Abel made me laugh. Oh, that Abel. Different and wonderful and nothing like him as every come from my brain or fingertips before. He made me feel better. I want to share him with the world because he’s so very unique. But he nor Romy nor the Rainbow Serpent herself are ready for the world. They are ready for a little ol’ contest though.
It’s done. The megabytes or whatever the .docs are converted to in order to be sent through the ify communication we call e-mail is sent. The entries are paid for, my debit card is down to a mere 63 cents (I love you, cash money), and they’ve zoomed through cyberspace to land in the contest e-mail inbox.
It’s done, too late to turn back and no chickening out. But… but… those are my babies. What if no one likes them? Shiny certificate. I made the attempt. I put in the effort. I tried and I did my best (was that my best? What if my best was really the worst?) and now I need to forget I did it at all and go about my life like I didn’t do it because it’s easier to pretend I didn’t than to waste time agonizing about it. Okay then.
Last night on our way home from the movie theatre, where we saw The Losers, which was hilarious and has a great soundtrack if you’re into rock and classic rock, we drove past a billboard sign that said Shepherd of the Hills is celebrating it’s 50th annivesary as an outdoor theatre. I worked there in ticket sales for one summer. It was my second favorite job and I loved it because I love history. I love my home in the Ozarks and the deep roots my people have here. My favorite job was the five summers I worked at the themed ride, Fire In the Hole, an indoor roller coaster with the theme of Bald Knobbers burning down a town. I thought about the attempts I’ve made to write a romance set in the the Ozarks. I’ve written one chapter and nothing more, because I’ve been busy, you know, moaning about C&C and whatnot.
I was thinking that this year for NaNoWriMo, I will write my novel set in the Ozarks. I really got excited about NaNo in April last year, I’m pretty excited now. I like to have plenty of time to think about the plot and I need to do lots of research because frankly, some of the elements I want to use have died down as modern conviences took over in this area. It’s fascinating stuff and kind of eerie when you consider watching a band of angry men in black masks with devil horns and torches riding out of the fog to create their own brand of “justice”. *shiver, running down the spine*