Wow, Dear Reader, long time no type!

I’ve entered an interesting new phase in my life: graduate student. Now, I know, I’ve been here before, and that didn’t turn out so well. But this time is  different!

I have started the coursework to acquire my Masters of Library and Information Sciences, at Wayne State University. It is an all online program, and we have just completed our second week of classes.

I can effectively say I am getting my ass handed to me.

I’m not struggling conceptually (yet) (give it time), but the sheer amount of TIME required to read through all the materials is at first blush a little daunting. I have a theory, given my cursory review of the third week’s lecture materials, that they are making an effort to cull the herd while the faint of heart can still get a %100 tuition refund.

So far? I. LOVE. IT. LLLUUUUUUUVVVVV.

If you had told me 20 years ago to be a librarian, I would have grimaced involuntarily, tepidly acknowledged your suggestion, and dismissed the idea out of hand. Some things have to ripen in their own time. I am exactly where I want to be, at exactly the right time in my life. Professionally speaking.

Personally? Well, greedy Reader, that will have to wait for another episode of Injudicious Blogging propelled by Too Much Tequila.

Many, many times in my life I have read a passage that has spoken directly to my heart, exactly when I most needed it. Today was just such a day - this excerpt is from Alice Hoffman’s Incantation:

“If every life is a river, then it’s little wonder that we do not even notice the changes that occur until we are far out in the darkest sea. One day you look around and nothing is familiar, not even your own face.

My name once meant daughter, granddaughter, friend, sister, beloved. Now those words mean only what their letters spell out: Star in the night sky. Truth in the darkness.

I have crossed over to a place where I never thought I’d be. I am someone I would never have imagined. A secret. A dream. I am this, body and soul. Burn me. Drown me. Tell me lies. I will still be who I am.”

I will still be who I am.

OK, here we go! I registered for my first two classes at Wayne State University today, in pursuit of a master’s degree in library and information sciences.

Time to evolve, finally, and this feels like exactly the right direction. I stay connected with the world of kid lit, but am not looking ahead to years of the wild ups and downs of freelance writing. When I started my college career twenty-four years ago, I briefly flirted with the idea of a degree in technical writing, with the idea that I would love to write text books, but after I really looked hard at the daily life of that type of profession, I shied away and moved toward something more stable and predictable. At 17 years old, I knew that I was just not cut out for the capricious vagaries of life as a professional writer. And after five years of actually living it, I KNOW that I need a day job. Bad.

It should take me two years to complete this degree, if I go in the summers, too, and take a manageable 6 credits at a time. And of course, I’ll continue working during that time, so my writing days are far from over. I’d give it all up, though, for a part-time job at Barnes & Noble! Imagine it, all you tormented freelancers out there: you go in, you work, you leave, YOU’RE DONE. Boggles the mind.

In the mean time, I’ve got work through November, at least, and can start subbing as soon as that slows down. That terrifies me, now that it is actually a possibility, but that is a post for another day.

There is no more humbling experience than job hunting. I fully believe it is because you have to cram the pertinent parts of your life into those tiny little spaces on applications. It is, quite literally, diminishing.

Words to remember, as the resume count mounts and the phone remains silent:

“Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fail.”

–Confucius

Courage!

Well, not AND gotten paid for it, like Kristin.

Thank you, Kristin, for this blog post, which so succinctly explains why, after five years as a freelancer, I just can’t take it anymore. I must admit, I surfed her blog with more than a little envy, and some other emotion I refuse to call regret. That is the life I probably would have led, if I had not embarked on the Mommy Road when I was so young.

I love the life I have now, wouldn’t change a thing, no way. But I can long, just a little, for far off places.

A recent revelation about my professional life will probably precipitate the demise of this blog… I’ve decided to go back to school. I’ve ridden the freelance roller coaster for five years now, and it is just by God time to get off this crazy train.

I’ve been joking that the last article I will attempt to shop out will be called “Life as a Freelance Writer; or Don’t Quit Your Day Job”. I am grateful for these last years, and the time I’ve been able to work from home, but I’ve reached the end of my ability to deal with the ups and downs.. that, and my steady Eddie, keep-the-kids-in-shoes client is related to the automotive industry, and I don’t have to tell you how grim THAT neck of the woods is looking.

So, evolving! I’ll tell you more about it when everything becomes official. In the mean time, I am seriously looking for work. Anything. REALLY.

Most people close to me know that I long for the chance to break into the world of kid lit - specifically, that I want to write for middle graders and young adults. I belong to the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI), which automatically grants me membership in the Michigan chapter, informally known as MichKidson the listserv.

In all their gracious wisdom, the Writers of the Bylaws determined that you did not have to be published in this genre to join, and this affords me the chance to learn from my peers, and those who have already travelled the path my feet itch to tread. In honor of what it takes to succeed in this capricious industry in the ebb and flow of a dicey economy, words of wisdom from our 30th president, Calvin Coolidge:

Press On…

Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence.

Talent will not;

nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent.

Genius will not;

unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.

Education will not;

the world is full of educated derelicts.

Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.

As my great Aunt A used to say, you have to “keep on keepin’ on.” And I intend to.

I am just a happy camper today - the sun was out for a bit (clouds now), and I can hear birds in the backyard (which just really has to be raked). I can think of 20 reasons why I should be anxious and stressed. But I’m not! Am I finally cracking up?? Is this just simple denial?

You know, I don’t think so. I think sometimes that we are born naturally happy, or natually morose, to varying degrees, just like we are born with brown hair or green eyes. I’m very, very grateful to fall naturally on the happy end of things, because some people I love very much are definitely not, and that can be a long, tough road.

Oh, sudden thought - maybe if I were more anxious, I would accomplish more, be more driven to succeed in business-type ventures. It would be interesting to do a correlation study on natural happiness levels plotted against material success. Just a thought.

Requiem for the girl I used to be:

“I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble.”
- Helen Keller

One would swear Helen was a mother….

I can’t take credit for locating this most excellent quote, though like the admirable Sarah Miller, I have been fascinated with Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan from early childhood. No, that quote came from a blog I have just discovered, called Carma’s Window. Another blog, added to my “must read” list.

I understand the temptation of illegal stimulants, sometimes. NOBODY could get everything done that I should get done. NOBODY.

Maybe I’ve noticed this because I’ve been running outside  more than usual during the snowmelt, but some interesting things have been turning up in the gutters of my neighborhood. Broken cell phone chargers. Car mufflers. Numerous CDs, some still intact. Partially decomposed possums. Shudder, shudder - I hate possums. It’s the tail. SHUDDER. And the teeth. Oh, GOD, I’m freaking myself out.

We were at the cabin this weekend, and I had to make the 2 hour drive home because Mike had torn a contact. When I was not white-knuckling through unseasonably heavy rain, I was entertaining myself with a carcass count - keeping track of the number of dead deer that have emerged from the snowbanks beside the highway. I was well into double digits, even though for most of the trip it was raining too hard for me to scan anything but the road ahead of me.

“She’s lost it,” you’re maybe thinking. Who writes about rotting deer and trash? And I can only tell you that there is something about seeing all that snow and ice melting away, something about the release from the limbo of frozen inaction that speaks to me.

It has been a very long winter here, and a hard one. Maybe I’m hoping that spring will shake me loose, too.