Archives for posts with tag: short story

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Motherhood is transformative. This is no mystery. Talk to any mom out there and she will have a story or twenty on how motherhood has altered the very core of her being. These changes happen on grand and micro scales.

You change our bodies physically, even if we lose all the baby weight, things are just, well, different. Doesn’t matter how many planks I do, I still pee a bit when I jump up and down. No, I don’t want to go on the trampoline. I am fun! I swear! I will just pee my pants a bit, thanks, kid.

You change how we see the outside world, we want safety for you when you leave our grasp. Don’t zoom down that hill on your scoot…..see, see that is why, you fell, it is too fast, you’re not ready! This is why you wear a helmet!

You change how we manage our time. I can work all day, take you to an after school activity, and arrive with one minute to spare. We aren’t late, we have a minute to spare! I am very aware of how to plan down to the minute. Minutes are very important.

You change our multi-tasking functions. I can cook a dinner while listening to stories about the world’s biggest shark and carrying one kid on my hip. It’s a whale shark. We are having pasta for dinner.

As I began reflecting on who I am as a short story author, I found my themes revolve around modern motherhood and womanhood. They are intertwined, much like my actual life. I am a woman navigating this fast-paced world while being a mom. This is a delicate balance, but one many women are familiar with.

I am one draft away from being ready to submit my first short story to Lit Mags. I have been working on it for months, yes short stories take months to create. Don’t be fooled by the short part. I’ve been published before, but not in this genre. I am brimming with anticipation and hopefulness that someone will find my satire smart enough to publish, and maybe even pay me for it. A writer can dream!

My children pop up in my stories. As main, supporting, and background characters. They are there in some capacity. I began to wonder what will they think of this as they grow? How will they feel about the stories, and hopefully one day novels, that so often are rooted in my real life.

Writers have to battle with how that comes across, the lines between fiction and real life. How those in our lives will feel about bits and pieces of real life being pulled into fiction pieces. We either embrace it or hide from it.

To my sweet boys, I cannot unravel my writing from you, ever. You are so engrained in my bones that it would be impossible for me to consciously uncouple you from my writing. You gentlemen, are my muses.

Arguably, you have made me a better writer. You have uncovered parts of my creative brain that simply didn’t exist before I took the time to get to know you. I  grew you from the cells in my body and brought you into this world, sharing every waking moment with you in those early years. Science has discovered that quite literally, your cells traveled through my placenta and implanted themselves in my tissue for years to come. They call it Microchimera.

You are me.

I find joy in your voices. I hope I do your voices justice in my stories. I find inspiration in your thoughts. I hope I turn those thoughts into something worthwhile in my stories. I find creativity in your tough moments. I hope I write about those moments with humor. I find my voice through your awe of life. I hope I truly convey the awe you have with this world.

As I head toward this new chapter in my writing career, I just wanted to thank you for being the inspiration. You have and will continue to inspire characters, plots, dialogue, messaging, and stories. So many stories. Thank you for unlocking a voice that would have remained dormant without you.

And now that I have procrastinated with this piece for you, I must actually finish the edits of this last draft. I have a deadline. It’s tomorrow. Yeah, mom procrastinates too.

I am in the middle of an amazing Resistance Writing Workshop. This week we focused on resistance through fiction. One of our exercises was to take life as it is and reimagine it as it should be. This short story came to me based on a shirt my 6 year old wore to the march for science earlier this year. It reads “save the earth. It’s the only planet with pizza.” So without further ado, my first dabble into fiction in a very long time! 

Earth’s Most Delicious Hero

Pizza. Everybody likes pizza. There’s a topping for every tastebud. There are city rivalries based on pizza. Rats carry pieces around New York. There are different sizes, shapes, and depths. People are passionate about their pizza preferences. Chicagoans scoff when they see “Chicago Style Pizza!” anywhere outside of Chicago. There is no way they get that right, no way! Pizza is a simple yet serious part of our collective ethos. Funny thing though, Earth is the only planet with pizza. You can’t find a thin crispy crust cheese slice on any other planet, that we know about.

Pizza is what saved this planet. The force that finally led world leaders to collectively sigh and say, “ok! We have to do something about climate change, or this is it. We are done for! Finished, gone, extinct!” Not Cat 5 hurricanes, or flooding islands, or unbearably hot Septembers, or ice shelves falling off. No, we humans live through our bellies. And it turns out, the way to a man’s brain (not heart, we had that one wrong) is through his belly.

Pizza. That perfectly warm golden tangy delight, too delectable to ever give up, was the Earth’s champion. The reason we all work harder to reduce our impact and waste. The reason our air is cleaner and our oceans are cooler. And come to think of it, why everyone smiles more. Who can be mad when every single Friday is International Pizza Night? Obviously started to commemorate our shared, global, hero. You don’t have to Go Green. You can just Go Cheesy (but please, skip the anchovies).