Honesty Makes My Head Hurt

Wow. I am not a newbie, but this article kind of makes my head hurt. JA, its author, is not wrong. There are series I have stuck with because they started well or I was told just get through the first one or two and then it picks up. Of course, I pick up so many books secondhand because I contribute to the creation of so many books - my own and my authors'.

The thing is, a person still has to be discovered, talked about, and passed around the first time. The first book in the series. The first series in the repertoire. If you don't support your local author, they'll think they need to try something else to get your support, and won't write the next book in the series (they always have a sequel in their heads. They know what their characters are doing after THE END. Trust me.) because they think you're not interested. They want to please you. But when you give your support to authors who literally admit that they could turn out shit and outsell the great American novel these days, you're not helping. When you support your friend because they're your friend but you don't read what they write and you have NO IDEA how bad it is, you aren't helping. If you want better, then you need to help be part of that. It's possible, but it's hard work.




Phyl Campbell is Author, Mother, Dreamer, and Dr. Pepper Addict. And you can bet she's procrastinating on writing what she's actually supposed to be writing -- RIGHT NOW.

The Man at the Door

I saw him out of the corner of my eye as I set my purchases on the counter.

He was standing by the door, and when he notices me noticing, he smiles at me.

He was a good-looking guy. Nice build. Nice smile.

And I could feel him checking me out as I was checking out my groceries.

I'm sure he was a nice guy.

I'm sure his mama raised him right.

But my gut told me something was wrong.

So I chatted with the clerk. 

And I bagged my items -- really slowly.

But he was still standing there.

He wasn’t waiting for anyone else. Only for me.

I should have been flattered.

He was a nice-looking boy.

The kind that holds doors open for women

Not the kind that kicks cats when women aren’t looking.

But looks can be deceiving

I didn’t know him

And my gut told me something was wrong.

A million and one thoughts went through the head

Of the girl I had been taught to be, the feminist I knew I was,

And the person who was just minding her own business at the grocery store.

The me that was all of these and none of these and more

Kept waiting for the guy to move.

In a perfect world, I would know

All he wanted was a thank you and a smile

Some acknowledgement that one human being recognized another

And was grateful.

But in the world that I know

A smile is sometimes mistaken for an invitation

A smile can twist quickly into a sneer -- a show of power and contempt

Contempt for me, contempt for humanity

Contempt for my right to be

So I found my voice and I nearly yelled, “What are you doing?”

And waited for his answer.

I wanted everyone in the store to hear, to witness.

“I’m just holding the door for you,” he said.

His eyebrows raised in innocence. Smile fixed on his face.

Another day this could have been the start of a beautiful fairy tale.

But it was also one flipped switch from my death in a horror film.

“I do not need a man to hold the door for me,” I said.

“You need to move. You need to leave me alone,” I said to this stranger to me.

Did he call me a bitch under his breath?

Someone did.

It was not only a thousand voices inside my head

Telling me to get in the kitchen and make that nice man a sandwich.

Give him my number. Marry him.

I didn’t ask him to hold the door.

We didn’t meet by chance

Didn’t approach the door at the same time

He stood there. Like a stalker

And I don’t know him

Don’t want to

And here’s the thing

If I was rude, I missed the guy of a lifetime. That’s on me.

But if his motives were pure, someone else will notice

Because maybe nice guys finish last, but they do finish.

However, if my gut was right

And he was looking for payback

Or to follow me out to my car

To take away my agency

Or worse

Then this was a fairy tale

And I am my own hero

Slaying dragons with my hands full of groceries

And winning.

Written for performance at Gusa by Victoria March 9, 2017

2nd Thursday Nights Open Mic 7-9PM

Gusa by Victoria

252 W Philadelphia

York PA 17401

The Man at the Door was written in response to a man misappropriating a woman's text rant, turning it into a meme, and calling her a feminazi. I could have ignored the online mansplaining, but when a group of women didn't, and attacked the woman and her agency, I needed to re-frame the conversation. 

Visit Author Mother Dreamer Phyl Campbell on Facebook, this blog, or her website.

AMUSing Thoughts for International Women's Day

Wednesday, March 8 is International Women's Day, so it's the perfect time for me to remind everyone of some wonderful books to empower feminists everywhere. Sure, I wrote them. But sometimes empowerment starts with encouraging others to support and empower YOU. This is one of those posts.

First, I'm Not Writing a Book Today empowers everyone to write. An illustrated free verse poem features image after image of children dreaming, doing, and creating. I wrote I'm Not Writing a Book Today in response to the parents of my young authors who apologized to me that their writers weren't chained to their desks all summer. But I chose illustrations to reach an even younger audience. I was reading at three years old and writing as soon as I could hold a pencil. So why not other young people? And when I read I'm Not Writing a Book Today, whether to toddlers or retirees, my audience GETS it. I'm Not Writing a Book Today has become a mantra for so many people doing so many things. And if you haven't experienced it for yourself, your parents, or your kids, you really need to.

Martha's Chickens and the Pirates was the first children's book I was able to publish -- even if it wasn't one of the first ones I'd written or even finished. It is a story I wrote to honor my pioneering grandmother -- the sweet bad ass woman who endeavored to keep the peace even if she had to talk dirty to do it sometimes. In addition to the obvious ways Martha dominates the decisions made by characters in the book, I worked with the illustrator especially to make sure that genders were represented equally. And on International Woman's Day, maybe that's not equal. But as a mother with a son, I needed to see both. I needed people who talked about animals that didn't and I needed people to try new things and to be brave even though being brave means different things to different people. So if you are feeling brave, need to feel brave, or need a change in your life, pick up a copy of Martha's Chickens and the Pirates.

For the adult crowd, #25 Reasons Why Charlie Should Never Read Jane's Books to Jane is a hard anti-comedy to beat. In the traditional understanding that women are from Venus and men are from Mars, each vignette highlights ways that two people who love each other very much can still lack basic communication skills or mutual understanding. The idea behind the story and the hashtag was to have a response to the popular fanfic FSOG. A lot of people argued that FSOG liberated women by exposing sexual fantasies. Others felt the lurid sex imprisoned women. I objected to the novel because it took an angst-filled teen drama series that I liked (Twilight), took away the mythological beings that made it so great, and replaced fairly extensive character development with S&M. It wasn't original, but some marketer picked it up because sex sells. How many of the same people boycotting Beauty and the Beast helped rocket FSOG into a bestselling book and movie? Not the book's fault, or the author's. Still, I wanted to provide an alternative. I think male and female feminists want more out of their relationships. #25 Reasons gives readers more.

Finally, of the books I want to talk about today, last but by no means least, is A Muse Meant. Samm is the girl-next-door heroine we all want in our lives. Her dreams, her magic, and even her insecurities drive the plot of this coming-of-age story for middle grade readers. The best part is all the things she doesn't realize she's doing. Girls are so often taught to feel insecure -- in the things they are told and the things adults assume they know. So for Samm to be continuously empowered instead -- this was as challenging to write (and re-write) as it was for Samm to experience. Did I get it right?

So in summary, go check out the following on Amazon:
I'm Not Writing a Book Today
Martha's Chickens and the Pirates
#25 Reasons Why Charlie Should Never Read Jane's Books to Jane
A Muse Meant


Phyl Campbell is Author, Mother, Dreamer. Check out her website www.phylcampbell.com

Website Overhaul

A loving person sat me down very carefully and told me my website was too busy. This was months ago.

And they were SO right! I just didn't know how to FIX it.

It took me a long time  to clear my brain-space to figure out how I wanted to capture the last decade of my writing life (and some things predate THAT!).

So what I have now is by no means PERFECT, but it is BETTER.

I've made better use of the menu levels and I've updated a lot of links that I should have realized (but didn't) were dead. (Yes, I saw dead links. And they didn't know they were dead. Take that, M. Night!)

This is a weird transition for me in figuring out what Phyl Campbell Press will look like in the coming months. Will it be absorbed into Creative York on terms acceptable to me, as I hope? Will I keep it separate, as may be better for me and the baby -- er, business -- I have built?

Speaking of Creative York, absolutely go check out my classes on their page(s).

Check out Rustic Cup, too!  The owner is a wonderful soul who is getting me to think even bigger and bolder. We haven't solved all the world's problems yet, but I think we're closing in!  ;)

The Joys of Moving

The Empty UHaul

OK. So I've been remiss to the four of you that read my posts. Just kidding. Are there four? I know many people are still reeling from the election, and my friends know that I took election day (because the kids were out of school) to get a lot of packing done. Then, a week after the election, my son and I (with some help from our dear friends) loaded a UHaul which my husband drove to our new home. Then, he went back to work and my son and I unloaded the UHaul. What a task.

So NaNoWriMo -- I think I got 300 words in. It's been one of those years.

Books -- Got two published (I'm not the author) in time for Christmas. Be sure to check out Philly and Jingle on Amazon. Hopefully editing two more that I will have available by Christmas, but I am only half of either Young Author/Editor duo, so...  (no pressure!!)

QR codes -- figured them out. Pretty neat!  People can make them free online. More on that later. ;)

This QR code takes you to the I'm Not Writing a Book Today link on Amazon. Try it!!

Job -- Two teaching venues, with premiere dates December 17 and January 3. Stay tuned.

New things: Mail Chimp -- with so many people leaving off FB for various reasons, I turned to a new method to get info to people. Eventually, I will learn how to conduct all this social media seamlessly without creating new content to say the same thing(s). My apologies to those of you seeing the same message multiple ways.

As a reward for your patience, more pictures...

On the road -- Welcome Center # I lost count

Not impressed having to get this thing up stairs and through small doorways

My son the trooper, putting up with me (to get his video game chair set up)

Dolly Ho!

Yes, the TV is missing. And it STAYED "missing" until many other parts of moving were done. NOT my first move with a teenager!!

UGH!  So many boxes!

Again, I say UGH!

Tool of the trade -- use stepladder and other boxes to get things from "Mama's Attic"

Tools of trade #2

It's finally done happy dance #1

It's finally done Happy Dance #2

In February when we last moved, he couldn't move the ramp himself. How he has grown!

This also wasn't possible for him earlier this year!

Shut the door and lock it up! We're done!!

If you are on FB and have been missing out on updates, be sure to check out Campbells in York PA.

NANOWRIMO REBEL with a cause

National
Novel
Writing
Month

starts at midnight Tuesday of next week -- November 1.  I am moving November 19. I have a ton of half-formed ideas. And really I have no idea what's going to happen.

50,000 words in 30 days -- no sweat, right?

And I really ought to be sleeping now, but as usually happens when I know I need to go to bed, my brain thinks "now would be a great time to think about random thing 361,297 and I can either try not to think about it or fire up my laptop and post something.

So before I find my maturity and hit the hay, I'm going to share a post about my journey as a NANO rebel. I invite you to sign up for NANO this year and dust off any writing pursuit you may have, whether you follow the rules or become a REBEL like me. So click on the hyperlink above and ENJOY!



Phyl Campbell is Author, Mother, Dreamer. She writes and conducts workshops on a variety of topics: Education, Women/Feminism/Equality, Book Reviews, and Writing. Her books are available on Amazon. If you'd like to see her speak at an upcoming function, contact her via her website or Facebook page.

Open House at Ann Peden (ICYMI)

If you were unable to make the Open House at Ann Peden, you missed out. I know, I can't be all over the country at once. And people are busy.

So here's a video of one of the creative writing games I play, called Flash Fiction After Dark. (I was nervous and called the game the Four Favorites game, because I have been playing FF with audiences longer than FFAD. My bad.) But the cool thing about this game is the leveled playing field between talented, experienced writers, people who struggle stringing two words together, and the ability of the game host to string all of that together into one whole performance. (And cheese. I think the willingness to be totally cheesy helps a lot. I don't have a problem being cheesy. For everyone else, BYOB -- if you're of age and have a safe way home!

If you want to see how cheesy you can get with your group, call Ann to set up a party for you and your friends. http://www.annpedenjewelry.com/ 706-769-2656

I also have a new survey for people in the area who might be interested in signing up for a class or for private consultation.

Young Authors Open House Event

Now that everyone has gotten back into the rhythm of school, Ann and I are excited to present an Open House of the Young* Writer's Workshop on September 16, from 5-7 at the Ann Peden Jewelry and Artist Marketplace in Watkinsville.

Come see work by authors age six (and a half), ten, sixteen, and maybe a little older than sixteen who make Georgia their home. Order copies of their books and maybe get their autographs.

Available on Amazon

Available on Amazon

Coming Soon!!

Available on Amazon

Learn more about the Young Writer Workshop, where both young and young at heart can find their voice(s) and make stories that can become real live books.

See the work done in Arkansas by young authors when I was living and working there. Ask me about special discounts, or pick up a list of their books which can be purchased on Amazon.

Play some writing and storytelling games -- Flash Fiction After Dark and the Four Favorites Game are my most popular.

And of course, while you are there, check out ALL the art and jewelry and unique gift items that Ann Peden's has to offer. For example, Ann made this owl bookmark right in front of my eyes!!

 People that come out to see me at First Friday on Main in Watkinsville on September 2nd have an opportunity to snag a coupon for a free bookmark like this one (with purchase of one of my books).

So again, please join us!
Open House of the Young* Writer's Workshop
September 16, from 5-7
Ann Peden Jewelry and Artist Marketplace

Ann Peden Jewelry

1431 Capital Ave
Suite 109
Watkinsville, GA 30677
706-769-2656
store@annpedenjewelry.com

*Young and Young at Heart; Ages 5 and up welcome and encouraged!!

Tired of Low Teacher Pay

I could write for years about this one topic and never say the exact same thing twice, but at the same time, it's all the same. It's nothing personal -- except that it is profoundly personal.

I won't waste anyone's time. We all know what's at stake. It's very simple.

What we give teachers is what we give our students -- and when it isn't enough, we all suffer.

PAY TEACHERS MORE. This includes teachers, aides, subs, anyone who works with students needs the freedom to do just that.

REDUCE TEACHER WORKLOAD. So many teachers get burned out having to do too much for too many with not enough. So many teachers are also parents. They should be able to work part time for what is now considered full time pay. This would help in a lot of areas.

It's time we did more than gripe about Common Core and high-stakes testing. Pay teachers more, reduce their working hours and responsibilities, and respect the work they do, Let teachers figure out what they need. This is the path to change.

Phyl Campbell is Author, Mother, Dreamer. She writes and conducts workshops on a variety of topics: Education, Women/Feminism/Equality, Book Reviews, and Writing. Her books are available on Amazon. If you'd like to see her speak at an upcoming function, contact her via her website or Facebook page.

Venue for Writing Class!!

I'm so pleased to announce that my

 Make A Book! 

class will be held at the 

ANN PEDEN JEWELRY and ARTIST MARKETPLACE 

in Watkinsville, GA.

Ann truly understands the need for artists to be creative while someone else handles the business end of things. I feel like a HUGE weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

First class will be Tuesday, June 14, from 9-12. 

Here are samples of books from last year:

And a link to all the titles available on Amazon.

I also have a new pamphlet/brochure. You can see it here:

Phyl Campbell

Media Kits and Shoestring Budgets

When trying to prepare for a book launch tour on a shoestring budget, don't do what I did and do an internet search on marketing. Unless you enjoy feeling depressed.

So many people out there are willing to you how they made a million dollars selling their fiction. You just need to believe in your abilities and write them a check for hundreds of dollars. 

And what is sad is not only that so many chumps fall for the obvious scams, but that paying to get ahead is now the standard business model for marketing. We know it takes money to make money. We know that businesses have to have initial capital investments. And most of that money seems to go to advertising. Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!

But when so many human beings and five percent of pets decide to earn money writing books, banks are unwilling to loan money to authors to start businesses. And most people that see themselves as authors/artists mentally put the word "starving" in front of that. They think they must starve for their art. Our society perpetuates the dual myths of overnight success and starving artistry.

But among all the pieces of advertising that yearn to be spam, I found a decent template for a media kit from Joan Stewart. (Ignore her media kit templates unless you are NOT operating on a shoestring. You will be sad.)

So I am working on my media kit now. Wish I hadn't written so many books -- because needing different length blurbs for each one and trying to stay OFF auto-pilot when I want them done years ago  -- but I digress. I'm proud of those books. And I will get through this. 

So that's my post for today. Back to work.

Phyl Campbell is Author, Mother, Dreamer. Sometimes the Mother and Dreamer get in the way of the Author, and the Author has to catch up. Check out her author page on Amazon. 

Other articles of interest:
Finding Pink Elephants
A Muse Meant
Quick and Dirty Publishing Guide

A Muse Meant ... Some Shameless Plugging

Some people number their chapters. I'm among the camp that names mine. And so I thought on the day I was able to HOLD my novel -- A Muse Meant -- in my hot little hands, that I would share these chapter names with you. And unashamedly, I hope that I pique your interest so you just HAVE to go buy my book on Amazon.

The Lame Field Trip

Future-Shroom and Fear

For Your Muse, Meant

Lies and Omissions

Penalty Sick

The Vacant Lot

Returning a Goon

Safe Place

The Dead Man in the Yearbook

Poor Mrs. Darling

The Big Game

A Most Unusual Diner

PDA in the Library

Reverse Psychology

Critical Urgency

Not Amused

Mrs. Darling Returns

A Goon Named Greg

Defeating Paradox

No Ordinary Animals

Goon Trap

Big Goon Battle

Pink Elephants

No Holding Back

I hope your interest is piqued! My book is available on Amazon. Get it! If you want your copy signed, be sure to let me know! And if you know someone who would be interested in my publishing workshop, let me know or tell them to contact me. I am working to have a place to hold classes, but also teach via Skype and Google Hangouts!! 

Phyl Campbell is Author, Mother, Dreamer. Right now, she's in over her head with

 book projects whose (author-self-imposed) deadlines passed by. She waved, and only cried a little. But sometimes the Mother and Dreamer get in the way of the Author, and the Author has to catch up. Check out her author page on Amazon. 

Other articles of interest:
Finding Pink Elephants
A Muse Meant
Quick and Dirty Publishing Guide

Happy Birthday to my latest book!!! A Muse Meant is Here!!

Happy Birthday (or happy publishing day) to my latest book. After three and a half years, I am finally ready and happy to introduce A Muse Meant to the world.

Please check it out on Amazon, and share the link with your friends.

A Muse Meant is about Samm and her friend Alex, two middle school young people trying to negotiate the terrifying world that will be their teenage years. Samm, the girl, just made the championship team in soccer for the girl's division. Alex, the boy, didn't. And that's just the start.

When Alex plays hooky from school, Samm is forced to go on what they both believe will be a boring field trip by herself. But for Samm, it isn't boring. It's an absolute magic house leading from one adventure to another. She can't wait to share it with her best friend.

But how can she explain it to him? And when she takes him to the place, it's just an abandoned lot. She starts to doubt herself. Luckily, Alex knows his best friend is sensitive and smart -- not crazy or lying to call attention to herself.

So they finally find A Muse Meant, and accidentally release the trapped monsters there -- called Goons. The Goon caretaker, Mr. Rios, says they must return the Goons or they won't be allowed to leave. With so many things working against them, can the friends work together to escape A Muse Meant? Can Alex help Samm get past her own self-doubt?

Phyl Campbell is Author, Mother, Dreamer. Right now, she's in over her head with

 book projects whose (author-self-imposed) deadlines passed by. She waved, and only cried a little. But sometimes the Mother and Dreamer get in the way of the Author, and the Author has to catch up. Check out her author page on Amazon. 

Other articles of interest:
Finding Pink Elephants
A Muse Meant
Quick and Dirty Publishing Guide

Observations and Junk Mail

Some people are not very observant. It probably means they carry less stress than I do. I remember being a freshman in college and talking to an advisor (a non-academic advisor, as it happened) about how to find out what was going on around campus by reading the sidewalks and bulletin boards. I confessed that I probably read 70 billboard flyers a day. I’m sure she was skeptical. Later in the week, she saw me reading flyers in the union. “Ohmigod,” she said. “You really do. You really do read all those.”

And the weird thing is, I could read all those flyers and sidewalk chalk signs and still miss important events that I would have wanted to attend on campus. It seemed I always saw flyers for great shows the week AFTER they were actually playing. Great speakers, same thing. I did a lot. Saw a lot. Participated in a lot. Still, I feel like I missed out on a lot MORE. Things I promised myself I would do during freshman orientation I never did in my four and a half years on campus. I never saw a movie in the Union Theater. I never cross-dressed and attended the showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show in the Greek Theatre on Halloween night. I didn’t attend a single football game – which is probably not that much of a loss. I lose interest in sports when they aren’t being played by clumsy six year olds.

Fast forward nearly two decades, three states, and too many cities to count, and I find myself needing to be observant again. I did some (precious little) research on my new town while still in my old one. And then after I’d arranged what belongings I wasn’t keeping stored in boxes, I set out to find more friends and do more things. After finding a few groups via Facebook, I went to another old haunt, meetup.com, and found a few more groups to join. Two have proven very valuable. And when I tell others about them, I realize that there are people who don’t know about sites like Meetup. And then I realized that a site like Meetup could be a way for my single friends to get out and meet people without the stress of online dating.  But then I realized I couldn’t say that tactfully. I can think it, but it’s impolite to say unless the conversation works around that way naturally. Which of course now it won’t.

So I’m two months in a new place --- starting the third. And really I think I’m doing rather well. But then it hits me that some of the things I researched early on I still haven’t checked out yet. So that’s on next week’s agenda, having decided to leave this week open because of the school event that’s happening Friday.

Still haven’t decided what of that is trying to pace myself and what is fear of rejection and all that creeps in when I’m trying to busy myself with other things. And I wonder to what extent other people deal with the feeling that they’re missing out on something wonderful. Sometimes I get glimpses from others on Facebook. Sometimes I just have to guess.

And then my junk mail puts things into a weird kind of perspective for me. Three years ago, when my husband and I put our home on the market, this one realtor started to send us info cards and calendars and things in order to get our business – either to allow him to sell our house or to use him in picking out our new house. We didn’t ever use him. We sold our house and rented and now we have moved out of state and are renting again. We got a postcard from that realtor with the change of address sticker. I thought that would be the end of it.

Nope. In the mail today was another postcard – this time with our correct out of state address. And I wonder if I should email or call him to get taken off his mailing list. I actually waste time worrying about what this piece of my junk mail is costing HIM. Who does that? That question is rhetorical, of course. Though if someone wants to throw me a bone and tell me they worry about other people to this mind-numbing extent… Or tell me that it would literally cost this guy more to take my name off his mailing list than to keep sending me junk mail. I should toss it in the recycle bin without a second thought. But it will sit on my table for a week, and I will stress about it. 

You would think that we have moved out of state and they would stop sending us ads...

A photo posted by Phyl Campbell (@phylc_author) on May 2, 2016 at 9:58pm PDT

And then along came a spider...

And as I wrote that last bit, I had to stop and swipe off a spider that was crawling up my arm. Now I don’t see it anywhere. I usually don’t kill spiders because they eat gnats and things. But I killed a brown recluse in my bathroom over the weekend because they are poisonous and I killed a wolf spider yesterday because it was moving too fast for me to see what it was, then was hiding on top of the light on my ceiling fan. I should have realized it wasn’t a recluse because recluses don’t spin webs.

And then I saw it. And of course my phone is dead because I was playing Candy Crush Jelly Saga while trying to get stations on my TV – I REALLY wanted to watch Lucifer – then remembered it’s done for the season. The point is, my pictures of the spider on my wall and ceiling aren’t very good. Is it a recluse or not? I simply can’t tell. 

It has a few less than eight legs – that’s probably my fault for swiping too hard instead of flicking or blowing it off like I know I’m supposed to. And it very patiently moved around a bit – even waited for me to get a stepladder and put the portable charger on my phone to try to get a better image of it. Of course it did. 

This is a brown recluse. Bigger butt than a wolf spider. Image courtesy of Terra.

It’s a wolf spider, but the cat eye is very difficult to see on this one, and it’s colored more recluse-like than wolf-spider-like. And with less than eight legs, it’s walking much more slowly – like a recluse.

If it will get off my ceiling and walk across the panels, I will knock it off to a box lid and release it outside. If it gets any closer to my bed, it’s going to be a goner – it’s already been on my arm and we both know how I reacted to that. Come down, stupid spider. I don’t want to kill you. It hardly seems fair to throw you out into the rain, but you could be very comfy on or under my porch.

 

Excuse me.

[muffled shuffling, a brief struggle, a door slam]

There. Much better. Spider and a plastic tub lib are outside on the porch. Yes, the spider could crawl right back in any number of cracks – especially the large one under the door. But perhaps it will think of the legs its already lost and value its life enough to stay outside.

And I won’t tell you how many times I got sidetracked in the course of writing this post. (If you believe that, you obviously don’t know me.) Let’s see – the fight with the TV that got 33 channels yesterday and 0 today, no matter what I do/did with the antenna. I was hungry, so I got a snack. I had a bill in the afternoon mail, so I made sure it was paid. It was. I checked my email – dealt with a notice from the PTA and a request to go over a cover letter for a relative of a former student. I got further distracted by a couple of articles about the Target boycott – which I do not support, BTW. A text conversation with my sister and a PM conversation with another writer. I forgot I was working on this post until the fellow writer said something to make me remember it. Then the spider on my arm. Skulking on my arm. Walking like a recluse would – slow and deliberate. And I could take and process all of that in the time it took me to realize it wasn’t my hair and raise my arm to knock the spider off. Then try to find it. Turn on all the lights. Don’t see it. Go back to writing and all of the above. Then see it on the wall, heading toward the ceiling.

Is it observant to notice the spider? Weird to let it live? Without some of its legs, should I have put it out of its misery? What is misery to a spider? Am I observant to have seen it again? What if it was a different spider? What if, in some weird kind of universe with spider solidarity, it was attacking me for killing the other spiders? What if ALL the household spiders decide to make me a target? More importantly -- why haven’t I internalized yet that I am thousands of times bigger than spiders are? It’s ridiculous to be bothered by the things – I don’t freak out in the same way when a fly lands on me. But logic fails me when it comes to spiders, especially close to bedtime.

One more thing to worry about. Despite the absolute lack of good worrying does, I do quite a bit of it.

One more pointless observation.