Tag: boston

feelings

superstitions

abby mumford

i expected to be writing a different post. one filled with springtime temperatures and babies and family and easter egg hunts as my family spent easter weekend up here with me. however, baby mac got sick and then got her mom sick, so sister J and family had to leave boston, which meant it was the parents, sister E and i left to weather the storms mother nature set upon us.

we were a bit soggy and chilly, but the more surprising thing is what happened after they left. i was busy packing up my room and was shifting from one task (shoes) to another (pulling down pictures) to this (spackling nail holes) to that (the mini bookshelf) to here (the top of the shelf) to there (cleaning the mirror) and back again. i’m usually very focused, but i guess a move of this magnitude brings out the A.D.D. in me.

i had finally finished up the shoes and was lugging the rather large box out of my room. a second after i stepped through the doorway, i heard a loud noise. i’m holding an awkwardly sized and not light box, so i continued onward with that and when i returned to my room, i saw this:

that loud noise i had heard? it was my full length mirror crashing to the ground and was now shattered. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME? seven years bad luck? a chance to buy a new one? a dangerous mess to clean up? a portal to another world that i should jump through? i suppose it’s really all in how you deal with superstitions, but aside from it being a really difficult word for me to spell, i am nervous about this.

wikipedia tells me superstitions aren’t based on reason or knowledge so i guess like most things in life, it’s all about what you decide to focus on. i could get stuck on the fact that i found out last night (mere minutes after said mirror broke) that i’m now saddled with a full sized refrigerator because my landlord is not from this planet and has no clue that it’s so much easier for him to buy this (only 7 year old) fridge off me than for him to buy a brand new one OR i could fixate on the fact that my coworker just left three chocolate eggs on my desk.

even if these two things don’t carry quite the same weight, i’m going to concentrate on the charming, delicious nature of the latter, BUT just in case, i’m going to keep this around my neck for awhile longer.

feelings

spring cleaning

abby mumford

due to an upcoming change of apartments, i’m finally joining the millions (thousands? hundreds? few?) who partake in a yearly spring clean. before having the gargantuan task of moving put upon me, usually i’d just tidy up a bit. i’m a neat, organized person, but dusting and scrubbing and throwing things out? forget about it.

but now? when faced with the option of having to lug all these things down three flights of stairs, into a moving van and back up another flight of stairs, i am suddenly objective and unburdened and can throw things out. this is a huge step for me because if there’s one time in my life that i procrastinate, it’s when throwing things out. “i may need that in june.” “i may need that if it rains.” “i should keep this for when, if, it snows in august.” “i’m going to read that. someday. i’ll keep it.” the excuses i used to make are now as big as the piles i’ve trashed.*pats self on back.*

and, in addition to dust bunnies that are bigger than the easter bunny, it’s amazing what i’ve found after not having looking at the bottom shelf of my bookcase or under that table or in my nightstand. i found a bunch of old college papers, poetry final exams, and my papers from my first and second creative writing classes. honestly, they’re cringe worthy, which is exactly why they landed in the “keep” pile. as much as i despair about the state of my writing now, HOLY COW, it’s miles different from where it started all those years ago.

one of the things i was excited to find was a comment from my very first (and scariest) creative writing professor. the comment that often rattles around in my brain because she managed to articulate what i never could about myself:

“…I think you might be the kind of student who makes great leaps between semesters as a result of study. Just a hunch.”

— LC

it’s not the most sparkling thing i’ve ever heard about myself, but it is the truth. my mind works at the speed of molasses. i can know something, but it takes time for it to sink through the layers to reach the part where i can be productive. it’s so freeing to know this because it’s a grand thing to know how my mind works. it’s also troublesome because it means i have to work overtime to understand the intricacies and be as productive as someone whose brain processes faster… but i’m always game for a little competition. it keeps things interesting.

who knew that spring cleaning would not only lighten the load, but dispense advice as well? it looks like i’ve got some wise dust bunnies. perhaps i should keep them around?

feelings

change

abby mumford

i’ve never been a fan of change.

neither the physical coins nor the thing that turns your life upside down. i’m a creature of habit. i like to know what’s happening, when it’s happening, where it’s happening, why it’s happening, and how it’s happening.

i’m a happening kind of gal.

but what i really don’t like is when i don’t see the change coming.

i guess all there’s left to do is take a deep breath, pull on my big girl pants, stock up on raman noodles, and keep looking for the silver lining because perhaps while this is a change i didn’t want, it is one i need.

feelings

analogy 101

abby mumford

how match.com is like querying an agent:

(1) you sign up for the website (match.com/agentquery.com)

(2) you troll through the interwebs searching for the boy/agent who has similar values, sense of humor, intelligence, ambition, track record, and/or represents your genre.

(3) you craft an email/query letter.

(4) you imagine all the ways this boy/this agent will be your missing piece.

(5) you revised that email/query letter.

(6) you (might) doddle your names together/craft your acknowledgments page.

(7) you ponder possible first date/THE CALL options.

(8) you polish the email/query letter to perfection because you have one shot to make that first impression, to entice the boy/agent with your/manuscript’s witty banter.

(9) you wonder if it’s excitement, anticipation, or just heartburn.

(10) you cross your fingers and hit SEND.

(11) rinse, return to step 2, repeat.

feelings

tweet-a-leedly-dee

abby mumford

the most unfamiliar part of the night was not when i hopped offline to meet some online friends at last monday’s boston kid lit tweet-up* in central square. (*tweet-up: when a group of people, connected by twitter and a theme [in this case, children’s literature] decide to meet up in the real world.)

it wasn’t when i walked through the streets of central square and went left instead of right and crossed instead of staying on the side i was on. nor was it when i remembered this area of cambridge is my own personal bermuda triangle.

it wasn’t when i heard “abby?” from behind me and turned to find @pebbleinmyshoe. apparently her definition of “i’m going to be a half hour late” is “i’m going to be right on time.”

it wasn’t when i walked into the room and saw some unexpectedly familiar faces (@caseygirard) and met some of the ones i’d only interacted with online (@bostonbookgirl, @briquinlan, @mitaliperkins).

it wasn’t when i discovered @briquinlan isn’t actually a sweetheart…well, she IS, but not the piece of candy that her avatar (this) depicts. so anyways, what i mean is that she is a hilarious and curly headed writer.

it wasn’t when i discovered that though i’d only talked to a handful of these people before, the topic (all aspects of children’s literature) was comfortable. from production to writing to agenting to illustrating to selling to reviewing to trends to ebooks, this was what brought us together and what kept us chatting for 2+ hours.

it wasn’t when i heard excited exclamations of “oh, abby of the sunglasses fame?” or “abby from twitter??!!” (my profile pic is one where i’m wearing sunglasses, so i guess i was a little incognito myself as i wasn’t wearing any that night. [i may be cool, but i don’t wear my sunglasses at night.])

it wasn’t when pebbsie and i found out that anindita knows jandy nelson (author of THE SKY IS EVERYWHERE, one of the most stunning, gorgeous, and haunting novels ever written) meaning we were now only two degrees separated from the genius that is jandy nelson. nor was it when people couldn’t hear past our screeching and thought we said the title was DIETS EVERYWHERE. or (as pebbsie thought they said), GARBAGE EVERYWHERE.

the craziest part of the night was during the group introductions when i had to stand up and say “hi, i’m a writer.”