Deanna Repose Oaks

Poetically Captured Moments From the Heart

writing

I’m Trying…

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There is a bit of pressure I put upon myself to make this blog entertaining, enlightening, and readable. This pressure has been boiling under my skin for the past two weeks, because my bandwidth for engagement has been eaten up by editing and social media posts to the point that according to my writing buddy demanded a “factory reset”.

Now, here I sit with a bit less pressure trying to find something that will entertain the people who read my blog, but I don’t know what would entertain, as I don’t know who reads my blog. I only have these vague stats that thiry users viewed my home page. Who are you? What stories interest you? Can you throw me a bone so I can write something that will entertain you?

And yes, I’m still working on that story that I found in the bottom of my purse…

Pollen Is Upon Us

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Allergy season is killing me. As I am writing this my eyes are blurring from tears so much so I can’t see the screen. I have a raging headache. These are not things you, dear reader, will want me to expound on, but they are the only things on my mind right now. Well, that and the round of editing I’m currently torturing myself with. Who knew going over things again, and again, and again would find errors again, and again, and again?


But I’m blathering on about the side of writing that readers don’t really care about. Readers want stories… And today the well is dry. Well, not exactly. The well is full of pollen. SO MUCH POLLEN soon the bees won’t need flowers, they can just borrow my car.


I’m going to lie down now.

Art is in the Eye of the Beholder

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They say art is in the eye of the beholder, which reinforces my view that poetry is in the mind of the readers. Here’s my proof the art statement holds true:

My eldest daughter drew a portrait of me when she was 5 years old. It was so good, I framed it. At the time, I was a single mom on a VERY limited budget. Instead of buying a new frame, I bought a piece of art at a thrift store, one that would fit the portrait inside the matting. The piece I picked held a matting that signed in cursive. I hung it proudly in our home and told everyone my five-year-old drew it and explained away the signature.

I started dating an art major sometime later. We were traipsing through Beverly Hills and wandered into a gallery that had Pablo Picasso line drawings for sale. There was a piece with strong similarities to the portrait I framed. My date asked why I was so taken with the piece, and I explained it reminded me of something my daughter drew. He rolled his eyes and started in on how every parent claim that their child paints like Picasso. This started an argument as I kept trying to tell him that it was more about the way the lines are drawn not the childish style and he kept claiming I was just a parent over-inflating my child’s skill. As we left the gallery, we agreed to disagree.

A month or so went by and I invited this man into my home for dinner. He walks in and makes a bee line for the framed art on my wall. His first sentence was “Wow. Who drew this? It reminds me of Picasso.” And as he’s studying the signature on the matting, “I don’t recognize the artist’s signature.”

I immediately started to laugh uncontrollably.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because my five-year-old drew that. You know the one that couldn’t possibly draw like Picasso? Even though all parents say their kids draw like Picasso, you just proved mine actually does. Looks like I just won our argument.”

He didn’t stay for dinner.

That was one of the first instances where I learned that having a college degree doesn’t make you smart and sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut. I also learned that sometimes you must see to believe.

And for fun… how Twilight Zone hits this topic on the head!

Journal #55

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Well, at least I am consistent in my inconsistency. So, there’s that. I’m also consistent in beating myself up for being inconsistent. I keep SAYING that this is the year, this is the book…. and then – zip.

I will say that for 2021, I have published another book of poetry: Poetic Reactions, based upon my theory that I could write poems inspired by two words. While I might not be making a ton of money, the cover has garnered a lot of compliments, and I’ve been blessed by more than my fair share of people so good will come of my writing career. With the publication of this book, I hit two all-time records: I had two shows (back to back) where I sold 19 books. That’s 38 books sold over 4 days. Made for some good morale boosting.

But, I failed in keeping up with the blog – twice it seems this year. Emotions running high and being twisting in all sorts of shapes and angles really messes with thoughts and words seem to disappear. I’m working through all that though in the hopes of getting better about things.

My plan for 2022 is to get the 40K book out that I have been editing for two months. To be more consistent with this blog. To be more present with an audience (any audience, really). Not be so scared of my shadow and start treating facebook like it is a frat party the first week of school. I don’t know anyone, but I’d like to get to know everyone and learn the lay of the land.

Here’s hoping I hit at least one of these goals!

Journal #48

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I just spent the last two weeks in editing hell, for my day job. Not looking forward to being in editing hell for my book, but I’m headed in that direction. I have another few pages to write, which will put me in the sweet spot for the size of novel for the genre I am publishing in. I should be done with those pages this weekend if things go as planned. I’m not holding my breath though, as this book has had more hurdles than a hurdle event at the Olympics. But, I’m moving ever forward in this quest to finish this book. Go me!

Yes, I’m cheering my success of forward movement because I have to cheer myself on. Writing is such a solitary endeavor, I’m always hoarding my work so no one will see it so no one does and no one knows what it is about so no one can cheer for it. Well, they cheer for me, but they don’t cheer for the story… I’m cheering for the story.

Editing is almost here, and soon all the cheering may change. I’m more than a little scared, and a lot excited. I’m so glad my excitement about this book is getting the better of me, even beyond the thought of facing the red pen. My goal is to have round 1 of the red pen in late April.

Journal #46

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Well, I entered a free poetry contest…. not sure how it is going to turn out, but I think I have a bit of a chance. Not a big prize, but that’s not why I entered. Just working through the poem was winning enough for me. Although working through the poem put me behind on getting a poem published for the blog, so there’s that. Maybe I need to figure out a better scheduling situation. Software isn’t working… calendars aren’t working… writing ahead isn’t working… the journal I bought isn’t working…

There has to be something out there that can get me on the proper timeline. I can’t keep beating myself up for not keeping up with things I get distracted from doing. I need to keep myself on track, on more of a regular basis. But I have the hardest time with routine. I like doing things differently every day. It keeps the creative juices flowing. However, I need to keep moving forward. Keeping to a schedule if not tied to a routine.

Googling planners isn’t helpful. There are a lot of planners out there, but most of what they do I already do in Scrivner. I need something to remind me I have a task to do that isn’t a task reminder that I can ignore easily. Likely story. The more I write about this, the more ridiculous it seems. I have a plan: write a journal entry once a week and write a poem once a month. Publish the journal entries on Sundays at noon; publish the poem on the 5th at noon. I’m doing the best I can at this point with a full-time job, a family, a podcast, a novel, marketing/selling, and all the other things I somehow fit into my day.