How do we deal with writer's block? my worth as a writer, and other related topics.....

It's been two months since I wrote anything worth remembering.  I did however write several pages a couple of weeks ago on my new blog.

It is so true that no one takes unpublished authors seriously (self-published does not cut it in this highly competitive world), at least in my book.  I left a copy of my book, The Women in White lying around this weekend hoping to interest someone, and what was that for?  Someone picked it up (I won't mention names) and started the regular jokes, starting with getting it hot off the press!  I can't say that I blame anyone.  Save for one kind and generous soul, a guest at my home this weekend who made me feel as it I were God's gift to the literary world, no one else gave two craps about it.  I myself constantly doubt myself, and until I write that best seller, so will everyone else.

I'm not looking for sympathy here, and neither is this is by any means meant to be a pity party.  I'm simply making a comment.  These little setbacks (because this is how we should consider them), while they question my ability as a writer and cause writer's block, on the other hand make me want to work harder and think of  myself as a serious writer, regardless of what anyone else thinks.

So everyone, go ahead and have a good laugh!  Laughter is good for the soul.  I myself always have a good laugh, (laugh in the face of adversity) because it is the best medicine.  And after I've had a good one, I will  once again attempt to tackle that writer's block.  Persistence eventually pays off!  Like the little engine that could, I will continue to chug along until I reach my destination, and then the rewards will be that much sweeter and greater.

So to all my struggling writer friends, do not be dissuaded or made to feel like your work doesn't matter.  It does!  It matters to you, and that's worth more than anything else in the world! 

Riding the rails, the light rail that is....

I've always loved rail travel. When in Europe two years ago, my daughter and I hopped on a train almost every day, sometimes two and three times the same day.  We did a lot of traveling by train, as we visited 12 countries and visited 24 cities, and of course everyone knows that that's the way to travel in Europe.

As a young girl, being the tomboy that I was, my four brothers and I would hang out by the rails of the Erie Lackawanna in Hoboken.  I have vivid memories of the mischievous boys hopping aboard, then jumping off before the train went too far, and lest they be skinned when they got home.  I also remember that they would search for treasures aboard and if possible throw some of it off to us spectators.  As a young woman working in New York City, I would ride on the Path trains to Penn or Grand Central to get to work. 

I don't travel much by train anymore, but that's not to say that I don't miss it.  As a matter of fact, the novel I'm working on, is a mystery that takes place on an Austrian-Czech train en route to Prague.  I've had oodles of fun researching the different lines and uploading pictures of the many trains, specifically the older ones.  The suburb where I live is by no means a sleepy countryside in Europe.  We do however, have a railway that meanders along the town's edge by the river, as it takes passengers back and forth into Hoboken, from where they hopped on the Path into New York.  The train stop is only several blocks away from my home.  Some nights when I'm in a zombie-like state with insomnia, the sound of the train as it signals that it's pulling in and out of the station, lulls me back to sleep.  Yes, I have traveled on the train in my town but since I own a car (a must if you live in the suburbs), I don't have the need to do it often.

Much to my surprise, when I visited a friend in Jersey City during the late summer, she and I took a walk down the street to release some of the stress we've both been under.  It was a nice night for a walk.  Folks of all ages were up and about, enjoying the last days of summer. We ended up at the Light Rail station, only several blocks away from my friend's brownstone.  Entering the station's long corridor and taking the elevator down the hill to Hoboken, brought back wonderful memories of the time spent riding the rails in Europe.  What a pleasant surprise!  The Light Rail, which in that particular area runs along the hill that separates the two towns, starts either in North Bergen or Union City and takes one into the Path and Erie Lakawanna stations.  My friend Neri and I had so much fun on that cool autumn night, that we promised to hop on the Light Rail soon.

Another Rule of Nature?

Ever notice that whenever you start off on time for anything, you arrived well on time; and when you start off late, everything seems to work against you.  It seems to be the rule of nature that whenever you're late for an important appointment or event, everything goes wrong.  You can't find the car or house keys, your bag, or umbrella.  You suddenly have car problems.  Every traffic light you get in your route is a red one.  You encounter traffic, road work, detours, etc. etc.  And, of course, once arrived at your destination, you can't find parking and if you do, it's several blocks away.  On the flip side, however, when you have time to kill and leave the house early, you get every green light.  You encounter no traffic, no road blocks, no detours whatsoever. And of course, you find parking close enough, so you end up getting to your destination way on time.  Today I had a doctor's appointment for 2:30PM.  I was ready by 1:30, so I decided to leave early hoping that they would take me earlier.  Well, everything that I said would happen, did happen.  I deliberately drove slowly and carefully.  I encountered no problems or setbacks at all.  But, had I been late or rushing to get out of the house, I would have encountered every conceivable setback.  So yes, I'm convinced that it is a rule of nature that whenever you're early then everything goes right; and whenever you're late, then you can expect that everything that can possibly go wrong, will do so.  

There's something about the tolling of church bells.....

There's something about the tolling of church bells that soothes my soul, leaving me with an all-around good feeling.  I can hear the church bells from my house as the church is only a couple of blocks away.  As I hear the bells, I'm reminded that Mass is about to start and that I must quicken my steps.  Sometimes I jog my way up the street and up the church steps, anticipating with joy what message I'll receive that day.   The peals are music to my ears no matter when and what church I happen to be in.  When we revisited Europe two years ago, we sought out the church in every city, from the Vatican to Our Lady of Fatima, and back. 

I gave you the location of St. James of Santiago de Compostela in Spain, but can you guess where the churches in the top pictures are located?  Hint: two equally lovely islands very dear to my heart.  Give up...
Limerick, Ireland, and Cabo Rojo, Puerto Rico.  Of course, equally dear to my heart is St. Peter's in River Edge, where the bell tower was a gift from a dear and beloved friend, Eileen O'Donnell, before she passed away.

The after -effect of Ireland!

Street in Limerick

One of the after-effects of visiting Ireland a year ago has been walking wherever and whenever I can.  I started by walking every morning, come hell or high water, to the 8:00 AM Mass four and a half short blocks away from my home.  In the process, I found myself comparing everything in our suburb in New Jersey to the beautiful island of Erin.  

I'm not Irish, but a good friend offered me a short yet thorough lesson on the history of the isle and the different peoples that settled there throughout the centuries, pointing out that many of us may have Irish roots. 

My friend's comment made my day--I've always loved everything Irish, especially the lovely people that live there; even the endearing toothless fellow we met at a bar in Cork--by ten in the morning he'd already had several Guinness's.

Oh, to be in Ireland right about now!

Halloween, All Saints' Day, or All Souls' Day? - You be the judge. - October 25, 2013

As we approach Halloween, followed by All Saints' Day and All Soul's Day, we think about these holidays.  Why do we celebrate Halloween, or not?  And how all three holidays came about.  In my book On Rainbow's Edge, The Journey of an Absent, But Not So Absent-minded Mom, I shed some light on the subject of All Souls' Day.  For those of you who don't have a copy yet or haven't had a chance to read my book, All Souls' Day has a very long history.  Celebrated every Nov. 2nd, it came about because when the Spaniards arrived in Mexico they found the natives celebrating a ritual that was at least 3,000 years old.  This ritual seemed to mock death.  The Spaniards unsuccessfully tried to eradicate the ritual, only to eventually end up incorporating it into their own Catholic theology.

 As for All Saints' Day, it first appeared in the Antioch Church around the early fourth century as a day to honor the Church's martyrs.  Originally occurring on the first Sunday after Pentecost, it is a day for prayer and observance to honor all the saints who made the ultimate sacrifice while spreading the word of God.  How did it come to be known as the "Day of the Dead" in Mexico?

One of the more peculiar traditions of All Saints' Day is All Souls' Day or, the Day of the Dead, in which Mexicans combined both holidays into two celebratory days.  The first day is dedicated to "angelitos" or, children; and the second, to the adults who have died.  Traditions include joyful celebrations at home and at cemeteries where food, flowers, music and dance are offered up for deceased loved ones.

And thirdly, Halloween - the Church's vigil on the eve of All Saints' Day, originally All Hallows Eve, retains many of the old European customs and traditions.  Just as All Souls' Day, Halloween started as a take from All Saints' Day, but over the years both have progressed to something entirely different from what the Church originally had in mind.

Last night a group of friends got together and the topic of discussion was All Soul's Day.  Some questions that were raised were, is there really life after death? what's it like up there (or down there??!!)?  What form will we take, etc. etc. You get the picture. 

We went on all night, with everyone giving their input, and after all the discussion it was interesting to see how we all walked away with a warm feeling of life after death.  I related how my late aunt as she lay on her death bed, saw her deceased husband beckoning her to him.  A friend suggested that loved ones are sent to make our journey easier.

We closed our discussion, as we always do with prayer and for God's guidance to lead us.  And then celebrated with white wine, a wonderful assortment of cheeses and spreads, and the most creamy and moist cannoli cake ever from Fairway Supermarket.

Beautiful depiction of all Saints!