Assorted, Discombobulated Things

Frolicking in the waves at West Neck the other day.
We are way farther from shore than we appear.

It's been a good, busy few weeks.

The water at West Neck has warmed up so much that, after our last swim this past Monday, Carole and I stripped off our wetsuits, booties, gloves and caps before we got out and enjoyed a little Scandanavian ice bath. ;) It was so warm -- I'm guessing close to 60 degrees -- that we got out, looked at each other, and raced back in to frolic once again in just our bathing suits. It was a brief frolic, but still. A sure sign that the regular, daily swim season is just around the corner.

I cannot wait.

On the writing front, some of you might remember this blog post from my YA blog, That Wee Bit Heap, in which I compared my publishing life to a game of Chutes & Ladders. I was about to go out on submission again, for the first time with my new (and fabulous!) agent, Jim McCarthy of Dystel & Goderich, and was feeling kinda hopeful again.

Then months passed, out on submission, with no good news.

I spent the winter slipping down lots of seriously long and ego-crushing chutes.

But, guess what?

Yep. I made it here.

That's all I'm saying right now, because I'm not really at liberty to discuss more. Or, probably not even that, for that matter. But no one reads this blog anyway, right? ;)

Plus, I've known for like two weeks, and I'm missing enjoying the fanfare with you, although, I've decided it's good to learn to not  always need the fanfare. At least, I think it's good for me.

I should work harder on that. Let 48 be the year of no fanfare.

(Um, who am I kidding? I love fanfare. ;))

Anyway, I'm writer-happy. And, well, that's all I'm going to say for now.

More soon. I promise.

In other news, I am totally obsessed with this Goyte song.

I mean, OBSESSED.

In fact, I had to stop and listen to it again before I kept working on this post. Which is now twice in the last hour, because I also put it up on my Wee Bit Heap blog post and listened to it then.

I don't know what it is about it *coughs* but it just strikes a chord.

So, I'm sharing.

And, speaking of sharing, I need to share this one last thing.

It's a brilliant reduction of a complex truth to a very simple understanding.

I'm convinced if everyone could hold on to this, the world would be a gentler, happier place. I know, for me it would be.


I'm trying to hold on to this. I'm trying. I'm trying.

- gae

The Three R's of 2011: Renew, Resolve, Relinquish

Ok, those may not be The three R's but they are my three R's for the New Year.

First of all, 2011 will be the fucking hugest year of my life in a long time (Yes I can, I can describe it that way if I want to), as I am finally mere months away from an effort that was a decade in the making coming to fruition: the debut of my first novel, The Pull of Gravity, due on bookstore shelves near you on or about May 10, 2011, but likely to make appearances sooner, if I am learning anything about this book business (which I may not be).

Second of all, after several years of what felt to me like nearly-insurmountable upheaval, my life seems to be returning to a calm and peaceful "normal." In most ways, this is a pure, good thing and I am grateful. But in some ways it worries me as I don't want life to become staid or lazy. I don't want to find myself blindsided by a life lived in a rut, that is something less than I thought it would be. Thus, I want to count my blessings, but not settle. I want to remember to make life happen, and be brave enough to do so.

Which brings me to my New Year's Resolutions. I tend not only to make new ones, generally a mix of the physical and the emotional, but also to renew old ones that have made my life richer, or me a better person, even if it's only been in the struggling to keep them.

As such, here are a few of my Renewals, Resolutions and Relinquishments for the New Year, gulp, 2011:

RENEWALS:

• take the stairs, up or down, for anything five flights or less (I made this resolution probably six or seven years ago and haven't broken it since except if there were no stairs to be found or if my arms were laden with heavy things);

• Swim regardless - if there is one thing I have learned it is this: no matter how hard it is to drag myself to and in the water at times, I am NEVER sorry I swam. Never.

• Be a good friend and confidante; do not share other's secrets nor say behind someone's back what you wouldn't say to their face - I am usually successful at these, and the few times I have failed, I have usually "reported" myself to the person on bended knee.

NEW RESOLUTIONS:

• Attempt (and make) a five mile open water swim;

• Burpees, every day. I don't know what it is about me and Burpees (they are my nemesis and I will beat them!) but I have decided they are the ANTI- ass-in-a-chair and I will do (X - number t/b/d) every day. If you don't understand why I think this, click on the word Burpees up there and do ten good ones and you will start to see;

• Be Brave. Whatever this entails. I presume I may have to do some travelling alone this year, get up in front of audiences, push myself beyond my comfort zone. I'll just have to feel the fear, and do it anyway.

And, last but not least,

RELINQUISHMENTS:

and by relinquish, I mean this more in a "let go of the things you cannot control" sort of way, rather than any connotation of giving up. Maybe the better word is ACCEPTANCE but it messed with my whole R thing.

• Age gracefully. No matter what I do, my face and body will age. Nope. Are aging. If you are not yet 46, you will be one day, and you, like me, will go, "holy fuck, how did I get here?" No matter how many crunches you do, your stomach will be softer; no matter how squats you do, your knees will sag at least slightly; no matter how many miles you swim, the skin around your shoulder muscles will be softer. There will be 40, and 50, and 60, and godwilling 70, and 80 and more. I will age. I am aging. I might as well try to accept it with grace. Or, if that is too hard for now, at least, focus on it less.

• Strive to do better without disregarding past efforts. I think I'll let that one stand on its own.

• Enjoy the Success and Let Go. And, as for my book, The Pull of Gravity, it will get out there. I may love the cover or hate it; it may get less marketing attention and dollars than I hoped for, or more. Some people will like it, some (yes, breathe) will not. And if I am lucky, a few will find it memorable.

          It will be whatever it will be, and it won't be what it won't be. But it's gone to print now, so I might as well enjoy the ride.

Happy new year.

-gae

p.s. Got resolutions? I'd love to hear, and cheer you on.

Conquer and Fail, But More Conquer than Fail...

So, this weekend I squeezed on my wetsuit (until now, I have only ever worn this in my own backyard pool - don't ask...), neoprene booties and a beanie cap, and, yes, special gloves, got up at 6:00 am and trekked off to join up with a group of water-loving strangers to do my first-ever "open-water" swim despite talk of mating horseshoe crabs, and water temperatures that hovered easily below sixty.


I didn't chicken out which was huge; and I swam over a mile in much harder conditions than I am used to in my, and the local "Y," pool.

The fact that I did it made me feel good. Although, I was admittedly frustrated with my performance as well. I did not, on Day One, make it as far as the rest of the group, all the way out to the buoy. I had trouble breathing -- getting the pace of my breath -- in the cold with all the tight straps around my neck. I had to keep stopping to catch my breath and, at one point, I ended up separated from the group and my anxiety got the best of me. I turned back probably an eighth of a mile short of that buoy. All the way back, I asked, "Is this a metaphor? Will I stop short in my life of where I want to go?"

I came back half proud, and half defeated.

Day Two I showed up, knowing this is half the battle. My hope was slightly restored. Out I went with the group; quickly I fell behind. Still, this time, I made it all the way out to the buoy, still struggling with both my speed and my breath. Still disappointed, but happier.

On the way back, a large swan started following me, a little too closely for comfort. I know, I know: Cool! pretty!, you're thinking. But those things are viscious, I tell you.

At first I thought maybe the swan was a good omen, but the faster I tried to swim, the faster he/she followed, leaving me only more exhausted and breathless. I decided I could do without the symbolism, and was relieved when he/she finally turned away. I'll swim on my own, thank you.