Writing
January 31st collage for February: 
The writing goals remain the same as for January.
Let’s see if I can do more than 85% of weekday mornings at 5 a.m.–the grade-maniac in my head thinks that’s a little shabby.
The proposal and revision will roll on as planned, maybe a little faster?
Welcome, February!
Beginning today, December 31, 2010, and continuing on the last day of each month of 2011, I will post a collage and my writing goals for the new month to come. I hope you will be inspired to join me in some or all of the writing goals, or, even better, to set your own.
Weekday mornings: alarm goes off at 5 a.m. Between 5 and 5:30, make tea and write very fast morning pages, in notebook, approximately 750 words. 5:30-6:30 edit memoir manuscript or write first draft of proposal. Then off to the (other) office.
Weekends: either Saturday or Sunday, six hours minimum devoted to writing.
Manuscript draft and proposal draft to be completed by January 31.
Blog three times each week, on Monday, Thursday, and weekend. The month’s posts will be based, at least loosely, on the month’s collage.
Read one book each week and write about it, if only in morning pages.
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A couple of my book reviews are here (nonfiction) and here (fiction).
I’m currently revising my memoir, (tentatively) titled Secret Stories: A Memoir of Domestic Violence.
SECRET STORIES is a memoir of a marriage entangled with lies and pretenses, the story of the unraveling of hidden truths during the period following the death of my ex-husband.
His obituary described him as a happy, fun-loving, generous, and successful family man. I perpetuated that story even though I knew its illusory nature firsthand. Only as Lee’s substance abuse, infidelity, and physical abuse moved to the foreground did my polished version of our lives crack. His sudden death, followed by the revelation of his remarriage before our divorce, and the subsequent chaotic dispensation of his estate became the final punctuations to the turbulent life we led.
SECRET STORIES recounts circumstances that shocked me in 1999 but became commonplace by 2007. Since the end of our marriage and his death, I have asked the questions asked by and of survivors of domestic violence: how did this happen and why did I stay as long as I did? Childless, well-educated, and well-off, I had every opportunity to leave, but for nearly eight years, I stayed.
This book moves forward and back in time, tracing the journey across disbelief, despair, hopeless acceptance, determination to end the marriage, and the final confrontation with the truth.
