Tuesday, August 24, 2010


TUESDAY LEDGE DAY. Yet another one. *SIGH*.

I really thought that a weekend of fun and MAYHEM would help me find my passion for the craft. Nope- but I did find a guy who called himself MAYHEM. A 6'9'' skinny kid who rapped like no white boy should ever rap on stage. Truly embarrassing. Young girls threw themselves at the oaf, thinking he was a part of the band. A local Philly band that is really good. I know them so the OMG factor isn't there.

Even when I was young hottie I didn't throw myself at bar bands or anyone for that matter. Nor did my friends. Not our style. We were just too damn cool for that. (In our heads anyway.)

We were too cool for Jersey this weekend too. We are TWEENERS. Too old for the clubs we used to go to and too young for the ELKS club. WTF!

What in tarnation was I thinking that I would find my inner scribe at the Jersey friggin' shore. I love the place but we partied. Partied hard.

Pool bar all day, bar in our place in the evening, actual bars at night. Me poor achin' liver. We danced, shook our tails, laughed, I mean really laughed so hard our stomachs hurt. We got chased off the beach by WILDWOOD 5-O. It was 3AM and we had a bag full of beer. Bonding and watching the stars. Barney Fife pulls up on his supped up golf cart. My punk friends scurry. No this chick. I mosey.

"Ma'am, is that beer in your cup?" Did this little shit call me Ma'am? He was maybe 21.

"Nope. Ginger Ale." I lie. What's he gonna do? Arrest me? Well yeah but that would have been funny.

We eye each other. He sees I've drawn the proverbial line in the sand.

"Well, either way you have to dump it." Kid has yet to get out of his little putt-putt.

"Right here?" I ask, real serious. Who am I to dump beer, oops, ginger ale, on the pristine sands of the Jersey Shore.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Does he know he's pissing me off? I raise my plastic cup and dump it out slow. Smiling. I am holding a bag full of unopened brews.

"Now, you have to throw out the cup too...Ma'am."

SOB, did he just read my mind? I was gonna wait till he left and fill my cup back up.

"Right here throw it out? I don't want  to litter." A smile forms on my face.

"Yes, in a trash can." His little engines purrs as he speeds off.

I meet my friends who are waiting for me on the steps. They are bent over laughing.

One says, "She's baaack!"

But was I? I had fun, yes. My moxy was there. But when I thought about my MS, my query woes, I didn't have the energy.

Chatting with JAWS last night I was goofing around with my opening. Thinking long and hard about things. I may need to re-write stuff, tweak and move. I jotted a few things and sent them over to AJ.

Psst. Did you really read that above?

I was writing.

CHARLI was writing.

I am BAACK! (Well, a little anyway.)

Not jumping up and down tapping my heels but I'm here. The passion came through last night typing. I felt it.

I was a little happier. Getting there. Slowly but surely I am getting my Charli back.

Thanks for sticking it out with me. I am not 100% but I am here.

Charli Mac, signing out.


  1. Well kinda-sorta-a little bit welcome back! Glad you didn't stay away for too long.

  2. Not ready to jump back into group yet, still feeling my way through the haze. But the passion to write is there again. That's what I feared most, that I wouldn't be able to find it.

    Thanks lassies.

  3. I've got ye lass! Ye willnae fall with me around! :-)

  4. Yes, please come back, Charli!! Miss u.

  5. Glad to hear you're rewetting your feet again--okay, your toes, but still. That is a step in the right direction.
    It's a hard thing to be bucked off and booted in the face. But harder still to pick yourself back up, dust off you ass, display the ol' middle figer salute, and get right back up on the horse.
    Welcome back, my friend. Welcome back. I'm proud of ya.

  6. I don't know about you, but I always get 10' tall & bullet proof when I have a shot or two. Crown Royal & 7-up helps my muse slink around the page. I can hardly wait for you to be back, Charli. We ALL miss you!

  7. Charli, whether you join the group or go back to writing on your own, stick with it. You've got talent-- seriously. Maybe it just requires stepping back from your current works and starting a completely different one... no inspiring eye candy or attitudes on your trip? Mr. Patrol seemed to make an interesting character above.

  8. Martha, Breanda, Mika, and Toni, thanks so much. I am getting pumped as we speak about my re-writes.

    Toni, hmmm. The MILF and the Beach Patrolman.

    Mika, shots are a serious plan. I am a Jack Daniels gal, hence the photo.

    Brenda, I picked myself up, dusted myself off and am almost ready for the finger. LOL.

    Ye rock lasssies!

  9. Charlie Girl,

    I read a blog the other day (I think it was http://virginnovelist.blogspot.com/ .) Someone just like us who doubts and then doesn't and then doubts again. But something she said really hit home. She said that those times when she feels she can't write are usually at a point in the plot where she's having trouble working something out. The point is we all feel this way. You're not alone. My feeble advice? Don't just hang on anymore. Jump in, make mistakes, and start living it again. Hurting is part of the process for most of us. Rejections, lack of response, tough decisions but then you're a tough lady. You can take it and you will make it.

  10. Anne, that is excellent advice, and so very true. There's always some part of the story we just can't get right, we get frustrated, throw our hands up in the air and scream in anger. But you're right, we have to pick up and keep going.

    I'm kicking her arse, lassies!

    Plus, I miss her when she's not around. :-)

  11. Aww, ye lassies are making me blush. I am glad to be back, thanks to all ye kickin me arse.

    Anne, great advice and great link. Aye, I am tough but even we fall sometimes.


  12. keep writing! keep writing! keep writing! you've got the stuff gal. And I'm waiting for more from ya... :)