I am the first to admit it; I tend to be a quitter. Always have been, and it seems I always would be...but starting today I have decided I am just not going to give up as easily.
For as long as I remember, I have found it simpler to just throw in the towel when faced with a complicated situation. After all, there are three kinds of luck; good, bad, and mine.
My older sister and I took piano lessons when we were young. After we mastered the scales and learned some sheet music by heart, Mom entered us in a talent show at Riviera Country Club.
Wearing a plaid maxi-dress (I was the picture of style in the mid-seventies), I headed to the keyboard with a loud thumping in my ear pounding louder and louder with each step I took across the stage. After nearly tripping over the bench, I took my seat and pecked out my selected song with my two pointer fingers (i.e. the only one I was proficient in playing) "Windy".
Ah, come on, you remember that song...
"Who's peekin' out from under a stairway
Calling a name that's lighter than air
Who's bending down to give me a rainbow
Everyone knows it's Windy"
I flubbed it up before I got to the first refrain--the good part "And Windy's got stormy skies bah, bum."
As I left the stage I noticed the dazzling, smug smile of my older sister.
From what I remember, I was jealous of her "costume"...a top hat, tails, fishnet stockings, white gloves, and some pretty kick-ass shoes. My sister was an over-achiever in every sense of the word. Nearly four decades later I still have not forgotten her performance.
Her song choice? The Entertainer. Reason I'm still bitter? The side show.
Before taking her seat at the piano bench, she held her white-gloved hands to the audience and slowly peeled off the hand coverings finger by blasted finger, then gracefully sat down as she lifted her tails over the back of the bench before letting them fall behind ever-so-slowly. Following a dramatic sigh, placing the damn gloves to her left and a very deep breath, she prepared to tickle the ivories.
As the lights went down and the spotlight lit up her freckle-filled face, her hands hit the keys and she began to play actual chords (at several times the right hand crossed over the left and vice versa). As she amazed the audience with her flexible fingers, they responded with applause.
She answered with more tricks and more chords and more greatness. She was good.
Sure, she was a show off, but she had the skills to back it up. If I remember correctly, she took second place. I'm sure her piano teacher was proud, I wouldn't know because I quit taking lessons thinking I'd never be as good as "The Entertainer" so why bother.
I started blogging a little over a year ago after a Facebook friend suggested I take my knack for writing a witty status to the next level. My stories about almost anything offered humor, sarcasm and my opinion.
Through writing, I discovered a passion I never knew I had. More importantly, I found something I did well.
After my Dad passed away last December, I took to writing as an escape. The more I wrote, the better I got. My goal was simple. I wanted to make money thanks to my new found craft.
Such an idea was not so far-fetched. Hey, if Snookie could pen something people would be willing to buy--then why not me?
Before long, I was offered a contract.
Being naive, this budding author briefly considered contacting Brinks to pencil me in on their route each pay day. Once I received the written offer, I realized how foolish I was.
While I knew I wasn't going to become a millionaire overnight, I was hoping to at least supplement the family income. Based on the numbers I received, I wasn't going to make a dent.
For the better part of the last six weeks I have considered quitting. And, for the last month and a half I have not logged in to post much of anything.
I am lost. Writing gave me a sense of purpose. Writing makes me feel alive. Writing makes me think I'm making a difference. Writing makes me feel important.
So as ChicagoNow launches a new platform~I am re-launching my blog; because I am not quitting this time. Nope, I refuse to let myself off the hook.
A wise woman once uttered the following words..."a job you love is a job you're willing to do for free" ~ that wise woman...Oprah (if you know me I know you're laughing right now...go ahead, continue while I explain).
If I'm willing to follow the advice of my favorite blow-hard, you know how serious I am about my writing.
My dream is to have my book published; any of them. Or develop my current life story "The Out-Laws Don't Wear Babushkas"...for must-see-tv...I assure you this sitcom would make the Barones seem boring. If nothing else, I'd settle for a job offer as a proof-reader for the next Paris Hilton tell all (something tells me the gal was never a spelling bee champ).
Truth is I just want to be noticed. I'm hoping the ChicagoNow platform helps it happen.
I thank you for reading and hope you visit again soon.