tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19603194.post7115113898634849037..comments2023-11-03T07:38:08.318-06:00Comments on Searching for the Prufrockian Dream: Like Mother, Like DaughterPruhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17682110056581947778noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19603194.post-6871914387955702472007-10-13T20:04:00.000-06:002007-10-13T20:04:00.000-06:00Thank you Heidi.Thank you.When that binding is in ...Thank you Heidi.<BR/><BR/>Thank you.<BR/><BR/>When that binding is in my hand, I will be sure to send a copy to you.Pruhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17682110056581947778noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19603194.post-73896569416033110262007-10-12T10:49:00.000-06:002007-10-12T10:49:00.000-06:00I have carried, through about a dozen moves, boxes...I have carried, through about a dozen moves, boxes and boxes of my dead mother's writing. It's horrible. She always tried to write what she thought people wanted to read, instead of her pain, her angst and her struggles. She would have loved blogging. Seeing that "publish" button would have given her great joy. How I wish she had lived long enough to see this stage of self-publishing and envelopes stretching and walls being knocked down.<BR/><BR/>I am reaping the benefits she only dreamed of having access to. A computer large enough to hold "one novel" - unheard of back in the 80's before she died. Let alone having 3 in one house that could hold rafts and rafts of writing. More space than I could fill writing for the rest of my lifetime.<BR/><BR/>I remember the rejection letters. The big thick manila envelopes that used to make her cry. That is the place that blocks me from my own writing. The desperate fear of rejection. Of spending so much time pouring yourself into a project only to have it shelved by others. Judged inadequate. I saw the pain it caused in her heart and soul and it creates deep wells of fear within me.<BR/><BR/>We inherited a soul from our mothers. An eye that sees details other miss. A mind that follows thoughts to their logical and illogical conclusions. A sense of wonder that sees things from an angle other would only find painful. This is truly an inheritance to be grateful for.<BR/><BR/>And the deep love I have for your mother makes me smile even more as I type because in your words and writing you are truly her daughter. Your style and the way you turn a phrase remind me so much of her. Please take this as a deepest of compliments as she means the world to me.<BR/><BR/>Write on dear sister, write on! I look forward to one day holding that binding in my hand, or seeing that performance on a stage!Heidi Reneehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01769414906479026143noreply@blogger.com