Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Dreaming of mountains
I want to go back to the Smoky Mountains... the rhododendrons should be blooming right now at higher elevations. This was the mountain laurel we saw everywhere in June.
Monday, July 14, 2008
better...
Things are better. We had a really good weekend. He actually seemed to be trying. We actually went out of the house and did things without him complaining it was too far, too much like going to work. And I've started on home improvements as well - getting the door stained, the chairs painted - little things, but I really need hands on work to keep me in a good mood in the summer. I like a little destruction with breakfast, thank-you very much!
I gave Sandsifters to an editor (a friend of a friend) with much trepidation. She's had many questions and given me back two chapters now; and I think this is going to work out. I read sentences that she's edited and am awed at how much tighter she's made the composition and the structure. And she's asking me questions that make me think, and realize where I need to rewrite for clarity. It feels like a process rather than a criticism - like we are working together to make the story better rather than her picking apart my "baby" while I cringe at the blows. In other words - it has become a process between two professionals. I am surprised to find how much I am enjoying this part of novel writing.
I gave Sandsifters to an editor (a friend of a friend) with much trepidation. She's had many questions and given me back two chapters now; and I think this is going to work out. I read sentences that she's edited and am awed at how much tighter she's made the composition and the structure. And she's asking me questions that make me think, and realize where I need to rewrite for clarity. It feels like a process rather than a criticism - like we are working together to make the story better rather than her picking apart my "baby" while I cringe at the blows. In other words - it has become a process between two professionals. I am surprised to find how much I am enjoying this part of novel writing.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
winter in summer
It feels like winter. It's thundering outside, a warm rain on a stifling night. But inside me it is cold. I told Mr. Ipsi tonight that I feel like we’ve lost the knack of making each other happy. He didn't seem to care, or perhaps simple didn't know how to respond. Once again it was a strange, uncommunicative night where we circled around each other. I could tell he wanted something from me - but not what, and I lacked the energy or motivation to really worm it out of him. I've come to realize that in my marriage, all communication and most decisions are handled by me. If I am unable or unwilling to bear that burden - he will not, or perhaps cannot, fill that need in our marriage. I am now unwilling to accept the burden of making every single decision for our household so he doesn't have to. So nothing is ever decided. And nothing is ever spoken. And we stagnate.
I was angry with him for much of the weekend. We did have some good times - but they usually started out with anger and impatience towards him. I worry that his mother will be the catalyst that ends our marriage. In so many ways she brings out the worst in us. Knowing she is coming - I look at my husband and see all those traits that I hate most about her, inside of him, and I want to take a knife and cut them out of him. I am unwilling to expend the effort to keep us talking, to keep things in harmony, knowing I will have to deal with her for so long. I have an underlying rage, a simmering cauldron that I am trying to keep to myself, that I'm trying to cover so it doesn't boil out into every relationship I have. Sometimes I want to strike out emotionally at him - make him cry; and normally I can't handle seeing anyone I love distressed. I'm really not certain how we are going to get through this. I try to council myself not to make any sudden decisions. If I force her to be a productive, useful, guest she probably won't want to come back. And this spring, when we were celebrating our 10th, I wrote about how happy I was with him and how great our marriage is. Perhaps I will feel that way again, after this nightmare is over.
I was angry with him for much of the weekend. We did have some good times - but they usually started out with anger and impatience towards him. I worry that his mother will be the catalyst that ends our marriage. In so many ways she brings out the worst in us. Knowing she is coming - I look at my husband and see all those traits that I hate most about her, inside of him, and I want to take a knife and cut them out of him. I am unwilling to expend the effort to keep us talking, to keep things in harmony, knowing I will have to deal with her for so long. I have an underlying rage, a simmering cauldron that I am trying to keep to myself, that I'm trying to cover so it doesn't boil out into every relationship I have. Sometimes I want to strike out emotionally at him - make him cry; and normally I can't handle seeing anyone I love distressed. I'm really not certain how we are going to get through this. I try to council myself not to make any sudden decisions. If I force her to be a productive, useful, guest she probably won't want to come back. And this spring, when we were celebrating our 10th, I wrote about how happy I was with him and how great our marriage is. Perhaps I will feel that way again, after this nightmare is over.
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