Last night, I dreamed that I had overprocessed my hair in an attempt to straighten it.  I had so many chemicals in it, my hair was falling out. I didn’t even notice it at first, I thought everything was ok. But I was playing with my son, who wasa baby in my dream; he had his hand in my hair and came away with clumps of it between his little fingers. When I looked into the mirror, it was not just that one spot but an elaborate pattern of bald spots all over my head.

On a side note, in my dream, as I was playing with my son (somehow there was a tire swing set up at my mother’s apartment), I was extremely concerned about accidentally crashing into the glass doors of my mother’s china cabinet.

Playing the game, trying to keep up appearances, and feeling  not up to par definitely are themes in my life right now on several different fronts. Am I over processing? Am I full of holes? Am I unpretty?

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2012

I’m a Typhoid Mary type of blogger.

To be fair, some of my family members read the blog when I first started it but have long since tapered off. They and others will read it if I ask them to look at a particular post. Others will promise to read it but never do.

Of course, I don’t badger anyone about reading my blog and for that reason I hadn’t asked them why they don’t read it–until recently. What I heard from two people I know extremely well was interesting.

One person said that they were happy knowing what they knew about me (which is a lot) and they didn’t felt uncomfortable delving any further than that. The other said that reading the blog is disorienting because of the difference between their perception of me and my thoughts as they are expressed here.

I probably imagine myself to be more transparent than I really am, though I’m positive I have improved in that area over the years. Is there something about writing out your feelings that is different from talking about them?

Assuming we are trying to be true to ourselves, is there any way to reconcile what we think, what we say, and how we behave? Do we need to observe all of these aspects in a person to form a complete picture?

Can we ever be who we think we are?

Do we ever really know each other?

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2012.

She's smiling with her eyes! A natural!

Do you ever have moments when you just can’t seem to get it in gear to do the things you usually do or intend to do? Sometimes a weird feeling comes over me that freezes me in my tracks.

For instance, this pic of my beautiful grandniece was intended to be posted yesterday as part of a Friday meme called “This Moment.” Today, I realize that the outfit my sweetie is wearing has a statute of limitations that runs out in less than seven hours, and it would be a shame to waste the shot. She’s a future America’s Next Top Model, assuming the t.v. program is around long enough.

A long time ago, I used to daydream about one day being a guest on the Phil Donahue talk show.

Somebody close to me recently told me that they like it when I blog about random thoughts, such as the one about shame, embarrassment, and guilt. When I hit the “publish” button after writing such a post, I feel exposed, but I never regret it.

I went out with the “ladies who breakfast” this morning. That was fun and always a pleasure to see you all! Once again, may all our dreams come true in 2012! <3

People compliment me on all the projects I juggle and how much I’m able to accomplish, though I never seem to think I’m doing enough.

The enigmatic “they” say that whatever activity you’re doing at the turn of the year is what you’ll be doing during the year. I’ll be writing as the clock strikes midnight–or more likely flipping channels between the Twilight Zone and Honeymooners marathons. Don’t cry for me; I’ll be happy as a pig in slop.

It’s been six years since I quit but today I wish I had a cigarette.

Doing things you’re afraid to do is a rush. Use that knowledge for good, not evil.

Happy New Year!

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011

“This Moment” is a ritual found on Life inspired by the Wee Man adopted from SouleMama. which was introduced to me by many, many bloggers, including Living With Food Allergies and Celiac Disease.

If you have a {this moment} post, please leave your link in the comment section so I can stop by and take a look!

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011.

In short, a blog carnival functions very much like an online magazine, with links to blog posts from various contributors. The theme of the Third Sunday Blog Carnival is poetry, fiction, and essays about writing.

Why would I start such a project? Would it surprise you to hear that I love discovering and curating? To be able to combine that activity with my passion for all things literary is just plain fun for me.

Beyond my personal geekiness, I believe that interest in the printed word is alive and that readers are looking for more than what is commercially available in the mainstream markets. I truly hope that as the news spreads, readers will come to the Third Sunday Blog Carnival to sample the abundance of great writing available on the internet. By the same token, I hope that this will grow into a community where writers are supportive of each other.

I know I speak for a great many writers when I say that all we want is a chance for our work to be read. How many great blog posts out there have had a limited number of reads? Perhaps with some concentrated effort, more of our work will see the light of day.

When I conducted my research on blog carnivals, I noticed a void in the area of writing that I hope the Third Sunday Blog Carnival can fill. In addition, there was a general lack of focus. For instance, I saw blog carnivals about spirituality with links from SEO experts, auto mechanics, and anyone else who happened to apply, I suppose.

From that, I was determined to see to it that any blog carnival I ran would adhere strictly to guidelines established from the outset. With the Third Sunday Blog Carnival, I think I have come up with guidelines that greatly increase the chance for quality submissions–and I’m not afraid to enforce them (I think this where my real-life experience as an editor on my day job comes into play). Readers will be confident about what to expect when they come to the Third Sunday Blog Carnival.

It has been just a week since I issued the call for submissions and so far the reaction has been favorable. Submissions are coming in steadily and indeed, they are good. There’s no shortage of talent in the blogiverse.

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011.

“This Moment” is a ritual found on Life inspired by the Wee Man adopted from SouleMama. which was introduced to me by many, many bloggers, including Living With Food Allergies and Celiac Disease.

If you have a {this moment} post, please leave your link in the comment section so I can stop by and take a look!

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011.

It’s nice that my blogiversaries are in December because they coincide with the time of the year when many of us become particularly introspective and self assessing. ‘Round these parts, it’s a dark time of year in a literal sense with the short winter days and long nights. I thrive in the darkness. The darkness is where I go when I write no matter what my physical surroundings are or what I’m writing about. I’m not afraid of the dark. It’s quiet and beautiful.

If 2010 was the year in which I allowed myself to express exactly what I was feeling, 2011 was the year of running around naked experimenting with the flexibility of language. My weekly 1 + 1 Wednesday, which I started a year ago almost to the day, was the beginning of that exploration. With the help of everyone who participated in that group activity, I gained a better understanding of the relationship between words and communication between people. Another foray was a spin in the Daisy Lemmas Riff, a fun group exercise in short story writing.

This also was the year during which I participated for the first time in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo)–a challenge of producing a poem a day for the month of April. I posted the poems here and as each day went by felt more and more raw and exposed.  Oddly enough, it was a good feeling. I came to understand more clearly how my poetry relates to my everyday life. I also realized that over the years, the language of poetry has become second nature to me. Like many writers, there are times when I doubt myself but after NaPoWriMo–and my compiling an ebook of the poems I wrote that month, along with a running commentary–those same doubts don’t exist.

My favorite post this year? By far it was Like Love Hate. On the surface it is simply a chart of words that show what I like, love, and hate, in that order. However, by design, the reader had to figure everything out intuitively as nothing is spelled out explicitly. While some of the word groups have literal meanings with no ambiguity, others are more emotionally charged or have associations that are not immediately obvious. I spent weeks thinking about the concept before I wrote a single word, then days writing and editing it. In my heart of hearts, I consider it to be an experimental poem.

I’m really excited about my online life for the coming year, particularly a blog carnival I’m hosting caledl Third Sunday. I’ll talk more about it in another post: Suffice it to say that it’s an unexpected turn of events but it is also something that feels like a natural thing for me to do. I’m looking forward to seeing how it grows and evolves.

Thank you so much for reading my blog. Peace and love to you for the new year and always.

“This Moment” is a ritual found on Life inspired by the Wee Man adopted from SouleMama which was introduced to me by many, many bloggers. Mary at Living With Food Allergies and Celiac Disease finally got me to give it a try! Do visit her wonderful blog to read about family, life, and health.

If you have a {this moment} post, please leave your link in the comment section so I can stop by and take a look!

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011.

There are three rules for writing. Unfortunately, no one can agree what they are.

- Somerset Maugham

When I tweeted this quote some weeks ago, a friend suggested I use it as a starting point for a blog post. I thought it was a great idea because it would be my opportunity to spin this concept on its head a little.

The Pre-Rule

It may be cheating, but my rules assume that you have a good grasp on grammar. You are well read, especially in the type of writing you are interested in. When you read, you read with the mindset of a writer. You analyze what works and what doesn’t.

Every writer has a reason why she or he writes, whether it is self expression, art, education, money, attention, or some combination. You have a good idea of what being a writer means to you.

With that out of the way, the first and foremost thing to know is …

Rule #1 : There are no rules that can’t be broken: Just write.

This is especially important when approaching the first few drafts. Depending on what you’re writing, it may be quite acceptable to boldly go where others wouldn’t dare and buck a principle of grammar, or to twist a convention of storytelling. If your experimental and innovative ideas don’t work as well as you wanted them to, it’s ok. Rarely is a piece of writing  perfect on the first try. Some pieces are good just for the practice. Most, though, can benefit from treatment with Rule #2.

Rule #2: Edit, edit, edit.

After a first draft, put your piece away for a while. When you pick it up to work on it again, read it with the eye of a writer. It may take some practice, but you have to apply the same objectivity to your own writing as you would to someone else’s work. Are you really achieving the affect you are going for? Does a particular phrase work? Does the overall arc make sense?

Editing your own work requires humility. You can’t be so in love with your words that you can’t bear to change something if it doesn’t serve the greater good. It helps to show your work to trusted family members, friends, or writing colleagues for feedback. Hopefully, they can be specific and honest about what works for them and what doesn’t. Seek advice from a professional, if you need to.

Don’t take feedback personally but rather as a tool to rework your piece–not necessarily to change it in the way someone else would like it, but to make your intention clearer, whatever that may be.

I believe that a first draft is a broad sketch that only starts to show its true colors as a result of editing–rounds and rounds of editing that can take hours or days, let’s say for a  blog post, or weeks, months, or years for other types of writing.

At a certain point, though, it’s time for rule #3.

Rule #3: Trust yourself to let it go.

This could be the hardest rule to follow. How do you know when your piece is finished? A feeling very much like relief washes over me, and my head feels like a weight has been lifted from it. There’s nothing more to add or subtract and I’m not tripping over awkward phrases. This is not a very scientific answer, to be sure. Everybody has their own way of determining when enough is enough. But at some point, it’s time to let it go and move on to the next project.

An even harder task, psychologically,  is to trust that your work is good enough to release into the world. Logistically, it’s easy to blog it, submit it for publication, self published it, and take advantage of the many ways to share your craft with the rest of us.

So, there are my rules, for what they’re worth.

What are your rules?

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011

I recently watched an HBO documentary called “Wartorn 1861-2010.” It’s about posttraumatic stress among people in the armed forces, particularly those who have witnessed the violence of active duty. It features firsthand accounts of veterans and their families over the years through letters and interviews, providing insight into the despair, the nightmares, the suicides, the self loathing, and the fear. The stories of young recruits coming back home after discharge scarred and changed forever, not to mention the graphic examples of some of the atrocities they witnessed, affected me quite deeply. It reminded me of someone I hadn’t thought of in a long time.

When I was growing up, there was a man in my neighborhood, I’ll call him Mr. Smith, who my mother told me was “shell shocked.” I’m not even sure what war he was in, maybe World War II, the Korean War. I don’t know. He was just the crazy guy who lived on the block–though I wouldn’t dare say that within my mom’s earshot. None of us kids on the block would ever laugh at or tease him. We just left him be as he paced the sidewalk, ranting for hours on end, seeming to reenact the same scenario over and over.

Sometimes we wouldn’t hear from him for a while but when he was active, he would bark out orders to an imaginary platoon, and he would answer himself back, all the while gesturing in what seemed like a flurry of activity. In his voice was fear, urgency, and purpose, as the “troops” he spoke for were desperately fending off an enemy attack.

Without fail, there would be the machine gun fire–

RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!!!!

The sound of the bullets would come flying out of his mouth with the rapidity, volume, and multiple kickback of the real thing lodged in his memory.

Sometimes I would lay in bed at night and hear Mr. Smith in the middle of the street, a war zone, making a loud whistling sound that for the love of God sounded exactly like a mortar bomb making an inexorable descent from on high before landing on the ground with a loud explosion. If I didn’t know better … but no, it was just poor ol’ Mr. Smith lighting up the dark with sound.

In the documentary, it was noted that many veterans feel alone and unable to express themselves to others, even their own families. We gave Mr. Smith his space to express himself, God rest his soul. I don’t know if that is what he needed but that was all we had to give at the time.

I’m quite sure there are some things for which we can’t be thankful enough.

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011