My Humble Return to You
Father's Day, Adirondack Retreat, Mostly me nattering on...
Hello dear ones,
As I wrote you last time, it’s been a big month. I got an extension on that second novel, working title MOBY-JANE, turning in the draft (at 120K words) last Saturday. My editor has forgiven me, probably because she’s charging me about a third again as much, given the inflated word count. I am glad she’s setting boundaries. I like that in an editor.
Meanwhile, I have never been quite so tired in my life. Why is writing so exhausting? I barely move my body! Except I move my jaw and tongue, apparently, which is a story I am sure you are dying to hear about. If not, skip the next two paragraphs, since they are graphic and gross. The graphics are gross, too. I’ll make a marker:
GROSS STUFF! SKIP TWO PARAGRAPHS!
I began to notice, sometime mid-April, pain in my lower second-to-last-molar, referred to lovingly by my dentist as “31.” MY DENTIST IS AWESOME! But she’s so awesome (popular), she was too busy to see me. One assistant dentist looked at my tooth and said I needed to return for X-Rays. The second assistant dentist said the X-Rays revealed nothing. I came back a third time for my Actual Dentist who manipulated my teeth for a half-hour and declared me free of dental problems but that I had a wicked case of TMJ.
Is this because I’m a singer? Is it because I’m a writer? Is it because as a kiddo I sucked my thumb till I was nine and the secret way I quit was because my dad told me he sucks on his tongue when he’s trying to concentrate? BINGO! The lesson I should have learned from this tale of woe is: Never substitute one addiction with another! Turns out, 48 years of tongue-sucking leads to jaw muscles the size of golf balls. Dentist gave me some exercises and told me to chill the F out.
GROSS STUFF IS OVER! READ ON.
My daughter Lila graduated from high school on the same day I had a birthday (birthday additions to my reading list below).
She was radiant and serene, and right after graduating took off to Rockford IL where her frisbee team Blue Devils Ultimate won FIFTH PLACE in the Nationals tournament!
Tom went with her, but I stayed home parenting my younger child, watching Schitt’s Creek, which Tom hates, finishing my novel draft and also the scarf for Patty’s dog Elphie for Patty’s 60th birthday. Elphie is a Ravenclaw, hence…
I’m gearing up for the Adirondack Retreat, which starts in one week. There’s only ONE spot left! (Two if the second person is extremely nice.) Here’s the cutest picture ever of my youngest child Johnny making a fairy house in yard of our house in the Adirondacks:
Meanwhile, Morning Seeding & Tending continues through the summer. Below is today’s prompt:
Nerissa’s Photo Prompt
Exercise: Take 5-15 minutes to go through a cache of old photos, either physical or digital. If you need to trick your Highly Executively Functioning Self, then think of this as a culling of what you no longer want. Hopefully, your Wiley Wild Child will also be collecting what you cherish and you will write something great.
Hot take: We're always told to live in the now, Don't live in the past, you old fart. But I argue that as we age, it's important to look back--not in anger (h/t Oasis), neither in regret, but in compassion for our former selves and all who might have wronged us, (including ourselves) and in gratitude for the treasures we've gotten in this lifetime.
Reading
As my current novel is entitled MOBY-JANE, I thought it might be wise for me to re-read Moby-Dick. I could live in Melville’s gorgeous sentences. This time around, I loved especially the Shakespearean tragedy aspect of the Ahab sections, the way the novel starts to read like a play, with all the present-tense stage directions and asides, the soliloquies and monologues. The scene in Chapter 124 “The Needle” where Ahab decides that he will fashion a fake compass to override the sun reminds me of certain felonious megalomaniacs currently running for president.
I also read two humorous books on recovery: Anne Lamott’s Somehow and Maria Bumford’s Sure, I’ll Join Your Cult, the latter a birthday gift from Dave Chalfant. Both are funny and one of them is also very sweet.
Also for my birthday, I was given: Wandering Stars by Tommy Orange (by Tom), and Jim Wallis’s The False White Gospel: Rejecting Christian Nationalism, Reclaiming True Faith, and Re-founding Democracy (by my cute parents, see picture).
But first I am reading Casey Mulligan Walsh’s beautiful memoir The Full Catastrophe so I can blurb it for its 2025 release. Next in the queue is my friend Gayle Huntress’s second book. Because I loved her first one, Beyond Words, so very much.
And finally, my parents! Who just celebrated their 61st wedding anniversary.
You win the prize for best reader! Thank you for reading all the way to the end!
Love, Nerissa
Tom hates Schitt's Creek?!??