Peggy Chambers "Views from the Hammock" site

  Back to the working world once again, like most writers, I’m finding less and less time to write.  I work on my novel early mornings and late at night.  But, what other things in life consume your waking moments like making up stories and hoping to share them with total strangers?  My stories, whether they are short stories, children’s books, or novels are a labor of love and I’m sure yours are too.

They say that writers are solitary type people.  They live in a world of their own making by themselves and often lonely.  I wonder if that is really true.  The Oklahoma Writers’ Federation, Inc.’s (http://www.owfi.org/) annual convention is just two weeks away.  It encompasses four states and over 400 writers convening to pitch their wares to other writers, publishers, editors and agents.  They also come for the camaraderie with other people like them – with stories to tell.

  This convention is the highlight of my year.  I’ve made great friends and come away feeling like I could really succeed at writing – not just dream about it.  I could get published! And I did.

If you have never participated in the OWFI conference, you should try it.  Three days of all kinds of writers under one roof, this year in Norman at the Embassy Suites Hotel.  Two banquets, countless writing sessions, contests, reading rooms, poetry slams and more fun than a barrel of monkeys (really, monkeys?) as only writers can do it.  The only thing missing is a dance!  

If you’re going to be there, look me up.  I’ll be the one that looks like a writer, whatever that looks like. We would love for you to join us.

I was moved to write this after the Sandy Hook massacre and did not put it on my website but shared it on Facebook.  After the week this nation has endured I have decided to share it again.  Even though the events of this week were not a gunman in an elementary school, a tragedy is a tragedy and my feelings are much the same.

   I know when they handed out maternal instinct I got in line more than once.  You can ask my kids – who are now adults – I try to mother the whole world.  Once a pacifist, I had children of my own and the tigress came out.

But, after the massacre in Connecticut this week, I can’t quit weeping. They weren’t my children – I don’t know anyone in Connecticut, but I cannot stop the tremendous tearing of my heart.  Every time the news comes on, I find the tissues.

I weep for the children that died, I weep for the families who are left with no one to tuck into bed at night, and I weep for the family of the shooter.  For they too are hurting.  Do they wonder what they could have done differently to help the tortured mind that pulled the trigger? Probably nothing.   But there must be answers to stop the tremendous pain that causes someone to want to inflict even more pain on someone else.

What can we as a society do to prevent the infliction of this kind of tragedy on helpless victims?   Six to seven-year old children are easy targets and should be protected at all costs.  Would I have stopped him if I could have?  Without a doubt.  One adult life for twenty children is an easy answer to a difficult question.  Maybe until we can find a better one.

We have to end the violence.  But, mostly we have to protect the innocent. Tissues aren’t really going to fix the problem.

   EXPLORING ENID’S TRAILS:  My hometown is in the middle of a revival.  I don’t mean an old fashioned tent revival with tambourines and things but a renaissance.  We are building a multi-million dollar convention center with the hopes that it will bring in conventions and entertainment like a large city.  We are “de-malling” our mall and I am unsure what that even means except that it will chop the existing mall into pieces and make an open-air market.  Every day the newspaper is filled with stories about building a new hotel by the convention center, and  a downtown tower might be converted to a hotel.  I don’t know if that will happen but that’s the word on the street.

The one thing that has been done lately is to improve Enid’s parks.  I worked for the local Parks Department years ago when my children were small by managing the local Olympic sized pool.  I had fourteen lifeguards and a limit of 400 bathers a day during the summer months and it was a monumental job sometimes.  But, I’m rambling.  I was discussing the parks.  In addition to the parks Enid is creating a series of fitness trails for running, walking and/or biking.  They are increasing steadily and I recently took my little city dog for a walk on one of the trails.  She loved it.  I know this because she almost pulled my arm off, even more than she normally does in our own neighborhood.  The area we walked in follows the banks of the drainage ditch that flows through town; our version of the Mississippi River.  Yards back up to this bank and you are ultimately walking down a concrete alleyway meeting people all along the way.  Vegetable gardens are also popping up outside of fences along these very wide banks too and give the area a very urban yet rural feel.

There are a few problems though – the biggest of which is PEOPLE WHO DON’T CLEAN UP AFTER THEIR ANIMALS (sorry, I’ll calm down now).  I think you get the visual so enough said.  My dog also got sandburs because she couldn’t stay on the concrete, but maybe a little weed killer would take care of that problem.  Once I got the stickers out of her dainty paws however, we still had a good walk.

I am pleased to see that Enid is trying to revive itself.  We are not a large town, nor do we want to be, but we still want to be vibrant and strive for improvement.  I hope it is a renaissance of spirit, not just construction for the town of Enid.

  I’ve taken up another new genre, again.  I’ve never been able to choose and stick with one type of writing.  I don’t know why, maybe because I read everything, I feel inclined to write everything. I love murder mysteries, horror, fantasy, dark comedies – and children’s books.  Hmmmm, I’m conflicted.

I’ve always loved to write. But, there were many years when I was working, going to school and raising kids I didn’t have time.  I hardly had time to brush my teeth some days.  When my parents became ill I wrote for therapy.  Getting feelings down on paper and then reading them later helped me see things from a different perspective.

When I became a grandmother I wrote for my favorite child to make us both happy.   The little light of my life loved his grandma’s books.  He even told his friends that his grandma wrote books – the cool kind with wizards and stuff.  Sniff!  After I picked my melted heart up off the floor, I wrote more of them!  He was my best critic.  I even named a main character after him.  Then he outgrew me.

I’ve written mostly fantasy and children’s books but, lately I’ve been writing women’s literature.  After all, I’m a woman.  My latest project is a novel about a woman who lives alone in a broken down beach house and sells vegetables at her produce stand for a living.  But she is not what she appears to be – a semi recluse who avoids the world.  The story takes a lot of twists and turns (has a little sex and violence thrown in for good measure) and hopefully keeps the reader guessing.  It’s a story of mature love, but more than a romance novel.

I hope my “next big thing” will be finished this spring.  I keep thinking of ideas and it grows daily, so it may never be finished but, it is a labor of love.

Now that I feel the need to write for myself, maybe I will eventually be able to settle on a genre but, the prospect doesn’t look promising.  My interests are too varied.  Writing for me doesn’t guarantee a fan base or book sales but it does guarantee a soul with a purpose.  Maybe it will be good enough for both.