Ever have one of those years? You know, when you move to a new town, your life changes focus, and you get three root canals done? No? Well, I have!
An opportunity arose this spring when I turned a corner and found myself writing for a new market: this time, short fiction. I promptly got published twice--I mean, I got paid for it--and won a writing award.
Well, at first I was elated, then I panicked. I thought, If I'm going to pursue this fiction-writing business, I'll need a constant flow of material to write about. So I accepted a new position in a neighboring town in which I spend 8 hours a week teaching 4th through 6th graders how to write stories and poems. Yeah, yeah, I was an English teacher in my former life, but that was for middle and high school kids. This is a whole new world.
... of hurt. These little ruggers are ruthless! First of all, unlike me, they are armed. They're equipped with energy. And they have no inhibitions. They look at me, all wide-eyed, and say mean things like: "Are you old? Like 30 or 40 or something?" I have to bite my tongue, or else I might respond with "Why you little whipper-snapper!" and REALLY show my age.
As a result of all this material-gathering for my fledgling fiction-writing career, I am sleeping less and grinding my teeth more. Hence, the dental problems. I really did have three--count 'em THREE--root canals. This coastal paradise we moved to a year ago has everything, but it can't cure lousy teeth. I do like my dentist though; you gotta love a dentist who has surfboards in his waiting room.
Aloha! from Diane
(The pic is me and my Lillian Dean Writing Award for Short Story. It really is an honor and I'm grateful. I will be posting some short pieces written by both me and my mom, Evy. Stay tuned ...)
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