Category: Musings

World AIDS Day

Today is World AIDS Day. I work with international health and development projects, so I hear a lot about HIV/AIDS in the developing world. It remains a huge health challenge for many people, women and children in particular. Much more needs to be done in terms of education and prevention, not to mention providing care and support for those who have been affected. AIDS also continues to be a problem here in the United States. Despite the strides we’ve made, I’d venture to say there is still a lot of stigma attached to it. There’s still ignorance and a lack of prevention.

I don’t know how I’ve ended up working in the health and development groups of a number of organizations over the years. It isn’t my field. Okay, I’m an English major, so aside from writing and editing, I don’t really have a field. But I’ve always been interested in nonprofits and worked for a few over the years. It was hard to take a job in the corporate world, even though it was finally as an editor. And now I’m still corporate but providing publications support for projects around the world that focus on things like HIV prevention, maternal and child health, and malaria prevention, among others. It’s gratifying to know that our work does make a difference.

In Charles Dickens “A Christmas Carol” (see, I’m sneaking in some holiday relevance), the ghost Jacob Marley tells Scrooge, “Mankind was my business.” That line has always resonated with me. That’s why World AIDS Day is important to remember. Mankind/humankind should be our business.

Happy Thanksgiving

This has been a big year. I’ve finally achieved my dream of becoming a published author. Hubby, who is a chef, started a new job at a new restaurant and even though it’s been a lot of work, it’s been worthwhile. Life has been more stressful than ever, juggling a demanding job of my own, a three-year-old, and my writing career. Yes, it’s now officially a career, and my hope is that one day it may even pay some bills.

I’m exceedingly thankful to all the people who have supported me along the way. To the friends in my critique groups who have encouraged me all these years and never fail to let me know when my writing isn’t up to par (in a nice way, of course). To my friends who have also provided encouragement and a shoulder to lean on when I need it. To Crescent Moon Press for taking a chance on a new author and believing in my book. To my family who have had to bear with my every waking hour consumed by edits and now marketing and trying to find time to finish writing the next book.

Things are looking a bit grim in the world these days. Being employed and able to pay the bills is certainly something to be thankful for. It makes me appreciate the little things even more. I love the holidays for the festive spirit and the joy in my daughter’s eyes when she sees the holiday lights. Gifts aren’t so important. More and more, I prefer homemade gifts, just something simple. I’d rather focus on spending time with loved ones.

So here’s wishing you a happy Thanksgiving and a great holiday season, however you spend it.

To our veterans – thank you

A special thank you to all the men and women who have served our country and continue to serve! I may not always agree with our government’s policies, but I fully support those who are putting their lives on the line and who have made the ultimate sacrifice so that we have the choice to disagree and voice our opinions.

Thank you and may you all come home safely and soon!

Renaissance festival geek

I’m from New England, and fall is my favorite time of year. The crisp autumn air, the beautiful foliage, the way the light changes and turns everything gold in the late afternoon. Apple picking (apple pie, apple crisp, applesauce, apple bread…) and pumpkins. It’s the time when I miss new England the most.

Fall is also renaissance festival time here in Maryland. Yes, I am a ren faire geek. I’ve been going to the Maryland Renaissance Festival for almost 20 years now (dating myself, I know). Even when I didn’t live here I’d always make a point to come back and visit in the fall. It helps that many of my friends are ren faire geeks also. What’s not to love? Steak on a stake! Fried mac and cheese! Heck, food just tastes better when it’s ON A STICK. Jousting, singing pirates, and many great performers. The people watching is sometimes as much fun as watching the actual performers. And yes, we do often go in costume. I’ve acquired some pieces over the years. It’s fun to get “wenched out,” and I’m modest compared to some people! Being strapped into a bodice all day really does improve your posture. And make you appreciate not having to wear one all the time.

I also love the ren faire because I feel like it’s the closest I may come to experiencing the kind of fantasy world I write about. It’s not quite as gritty–there’s no open sewage and most people there have bathed recently–but the dirt streets and wooden shops do remind me of how I’ve envisioned my book. I sometimes envy people who write realistic fiction. If they want to research a place, they can read about it or go there and experience it themselves. Us fantasy writers don’t have that luxury.

One thing the ren faire has that my book does not: men in kilts. And that’s another reason to keep going back. 🙂

10 years…

I’ve no desire to watch the 9/11 ten year anniversary events. I lived not far from Washington, DC, slightly closer than now on that day, and I will never forget how the world changed, suddenly, horrifically. Home sick, phone call from husband saying a plane has hit the World Trade Center. Turn on the TV and sit there watching, stunned. The plane hits the Pentagon. Lots of sirens. Call my mom in Massachusetts, who has already left me a message on my office voice mail. Call my boss. They are all okay but in shock, not really doing any work and can’t go home because roads are shut down and the area is gridlocked. Call my friend in DC, who has just started graduate school, is home alone, and doesn’t have a TV, only internet. Call my friend in Pennsylvania because I have no idea where she is in relation to Shanksville. Check in with other friends, realize none of us knows where exactly our friend in New York works, only that she’s at a bank downtown. Watch the towers fall. Cry when my husband gets home from work later that night, in time to watch another newscast and see the replay of the plane hit the tower yet again, and think about how many husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, friends, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers never make it home that day. Relief the next day when we hear from NY friend that she’s safe. Sadness as the days pass and we realize there will be no survivors. A struggle to return to “normal” because normal no longer seems to exist.

I’ve seen it, lived it, been forever altered by what happened that day. Someday my daughter, now three, will read about what happened in a textbook. She’ll never really understand. At the time I didn’t understand the reactions of my friends who were parents because they seemed so unaffected. I know that wasn’t true—they were just being strong for their kids. Now I get that.

So instead of watching the footage that has been burned into my soul, I’d rather watch a giggling three-year-old spin around in her new sparkly red shoes. Because if I don’t laugh, I’ll be crying. This is the kind of hope and joy we need to hold onto. Ten years, twenty years, it doesn’t matter. We will never forget.