I’m guest blogging over at my fellow Canuck, Canadian Blogger Girl.
I offer helpful tips on ways to blog despite having family obligations and time-consuming responsibilities.
I may or may not suggest blowing your husband/wife as a means of negotiating time on the computer.
To see if I really am that manipulative and vulgar, go there now to see.
…ok…ahem…wiping my mouth…and now for our regularly scheduled broadcast.
So I’ve noticed a couple of comments in which people mention that I may be a story-teller, and I may or may not be describing actual events in my life when I blog.
Several years ago, I had written and completed a fiction novel.
However, the story in the novel was based on situations that had actually occurred in my own life.
At the time I was dealing with my divorce, and it was cathartic for me to write about my ex, his crazy girlfriend, and the things they would say and do.
Of course there was an entire story woven around the events. It wasn’t just me bad-mouthing the ex. ‘Cause that would be wrong. just in case he’s actually found my blog and reads it regularly
When I started sending out my novel to agents and publishers in the hopes that someone would take interest, one publisher took the time to send me a personal rejection letter, in which he said something to the effect, “Although your story is entertaining, the events you describe are not realistic. Readers will not find it believable even for a work of fiction.”
But…but…it’s my life…really!
So that brings us back to my blogging.
For instance, in my last post in which I describe a night out with the parents from my son’s hockey team, I happen to mention sheep shearing a number of times.
Here’s the thing.
Sheep shearing was a prominent part of the evening’s discussions.
Was that what was continually being brought up to interrupt the awkward silences I was creating?
But honestly, after the mention of sheep shearing more than four times, I stopped listening.
So when the ladies would bring up various topics to distract from the fact that I had just referred to my son’s old hockey coach as an ‘asshole,’ it was not always sheep shearing.
It varied from, “So…anyway…we should go check on the kids!” to “So…anyway…don’t throw these plastic plates away, I’ll wash them later, and reuse them for my next get-together.” Yes. THAT’S the truth. And yes, it does sound like storytelling.
Alas, I witnessed the hostess with my own eyes gathering up the plastic plates and putting them in a sink full of suds.
My life is just fun like that.
This afternoon, my kids and I were driving in the car.
My oldest, 15 year old Wyatt, says, “Mom, when I grow up, I’m going to open a chain of stores called ‘Prostitute.’ It will carry the same kind of clothing as Forever 21, only it will draw a different demographic.”
I say, “The hooker demographic?”
“Yes. Prostitutes want to wear cute outfits too.”
This leads to my other son, 13 year old Jackson, saying, “I’m going to open a chain called ‘Man-Ho.’ A line of lingerie for men.”
From the very back my seven year old pipes up, “I’m going to invent a game called ‘Word Hole.’”
Wyatt says, “Way to ruin the joke Terran!”
Terran says, “I’m going to invent a game called ‘Word Hole’.”
Wyatt says, “It’s not funnier just because you say it twice.”
Totally blog worthy.
Sounds like I made it up, right.
Because really, what good mother engages in a conversation with her children about super cute outfits for prostitutes and lingerie for men-hoes?
And well, it would seem, the answer is me.