Try 100words.com!

When I neglect my blog, this is what I'm doing--writing 100-word entries for 100words.com. I learned of this site in November 2008 in a NaNoWriMo forum. I'd just earned my MFA and learned how word limits inspire better writing, forcing you to pick the best possible word, not a fuzzy approximation.

So far, I've completed 10 "batches"--a month's worth of 100 words. Some are diary entries that tell details, thoughts, and feelings about a day's worth of living. Others are instances from the middle-grade novel I'm revising. Recently, I'm writing memoir entries--100 words for each year of my life.

Check it out!

Letter to the Editor

Last month, my six-word bio was published--today, my 100-word letter to the editor was in the paper:

A letter in the Feb. 3 Chicago Sun-Times equates financial success with hard work, and lack of such success to "loafing."

Sometimes, maybe--but financial success is also tied to choice of career. A prime example is day care. Day care teachers typically earn pitifully low salaries, often barely above minimum wage--but what job can be more important--or demanding--than nurturing young children?

Teachers in Catholic elementary schools work very hard but do not have the highest of salaries; neither do employees of nonprofit social service agencies.

These professionals are far from lazy. Success--and one's value to the world--is not just measured by income level.

February vs. March

I have always hated January and February, the subzero windchill and slick ice and mounds of snow that Chicago likes to bestow as after-holiday gifts. November and December are warmed by the Hallelujah Chorus and Joy to the World and neighborhood houses glowing with red and green, with Santa Clauses and angels. But after Dick Clark and Ryan Seacrest have signed off, it's back to ordinary time, and winter is drab again.

So every year I look forward to March 1 the way kids look forward to Christmas Eve--I want spring and leaves on trees and dandelions and sunscreen.

But yesterday, when I said to someone, "I can't wait till March 1," I stopped. Wait a second. Do I really want to rush time this year? When spring is over this year, my son will packing up for college; this will be my last February with my son around. End of August, when days are still long and trees still green, he'll be off on campus, starting a new chapter of his life--and I'll be starting a new one of my own.

Sure, I plan to enjoy living alone--as always, I have plenty of writing projects lined up; I've begun to practice on Red (my violin) again; I'm contemplating volunteering at Open Books where you can read to a kid once a week. Never mind my actual 8 to 4:30 job--never mind hanging out with friends and family!

Still, this chapter of my life--raising my son--has been a good one. Our homelife is happy and peaceful--a blessing that only those from disfunctional families of origin can truly appreciate--and my son is good company. So now especially I want to savor the times he steps out of his White Sox shrine room to share school gossip or sports tidbits with me, the times he'll still take a 7-11 walk with me. While I'm excited for my son and his new college life, and am confident my new life chapter will be a good one, too, maybe February is OK this year.

But, February? Listen up! Enjoy this year--next year I'll be rushing you again!