reused « Robin Writes

Well. Ahem. There was, um, a LOT OF STUFF left at the new place. The listing agent had said that the seller “just moved out” the first of February. Maybe we forgot to ask which year?

Picture this (and you can see for yourself, although the pics for this week’s episode were taken shortly after we started; so just imagine even MORE STUFF):

A 900 square foot house, two rooms. We’re not counting the half-assed lean-to attached to the back that served as a utility room. That sucker is coming down, as soon as we can manage. There are three decks; the one to the left we’ll call the “kitchen deck,” because the door leading inside is right next to the pantry. The front deck is, of course, on the front, with a door leading inside to the open living area, and the side deck is off the bedroom/bath—but it’s connected to the front deck. All are covered, mostly, and the kitchen deck has a ramp instead of stairs.

All three decks were covered with plastic planters, as well as few clay ones, and large plastic buckets. Also plastic gallon ice cream containers. Also No. 10 cans, empty. Well, empty of their original contents. Most were now filled with rocks. Not good rocks. Not interesting rocks. Just rocks. Some planters had rocks, most had dirt. One had empty root beer cans and dirt. Hmmm.

Also discovered on the decks were an aquarium, a restaurant corner book AND table, boxes, rags, trash, plastic chairs, dog dishes (plural, several times over), and a few other assorted odd things. Crap, that is.

I’m happy to report that, while the booth and table are still there—we’re actually just wondering if it’s an illusion—the rest has made its happy way to the barn or the dumpster or the junk pile.

We have a BIG junk pile . . .

Now, let’s step inside. It’s okay. You can come in. We have latex gloves and dust masks and lots of bleach. Lots.

In the living area, there are two falling-apart recliners, an electric organ, an entertainment center. Also a VHS player, complete with tapes, a ton of Jehovah’s Witness material, cassettes, a CRT monitor, a practically new printer, keyboard, mouse. Also evidence of other mice. Quite a bit, but also a lot of mouse poison. And traps. Empty, thankfully. Oh, and ton of wadded-up newspaper, and dust, and trash. A lot of trash.

Good thing we bought a huge box of contractor trash bags.

The cabinets were full of junk, old dishes, home-canned items, spices, and cake mixes. Yes, you read that right. Also a lot of dog meds, wormers, etc. And some people meds. Nothing in the fridge, which surprisingly did NOT smell, but the freezer . . . Blech.

Slip through the bathroom doorway—no actual door, yet—and you’ll see the same kind of crap. Meds, personal care items, a shelving unit in the shower, the toilet in a couple pieces—not trashed, just apart—and bubble bath, dog food, dead plants, perfume, makeup, and more trash.

Walking through the bedroom/bath area, you’ll find more of the same. And a couch. Ick. And a mattress on top of a homemade platform bed. And more crap on top of that. Shoes in the closet. And hangers. Lots of hangers.

Practically indescribable.

And now? Cleaning, Round One, complete.

I say “round one,” because no way anything is going in that house until I have at least one more cleaning spree in there. No way.

We arrived Friday, early afternoon. We finished the house Sunday, late afternoon.

Now, just to be clear, we did a few other things:

Saturday morning, 8:30, 30 degrees, we hiked half the property and narrowed down the possible campsites to two locations.

We got the well turned on and working—sadly, the connection on top of the hot water tank was loose, so that icky lean-to got a quick shower. On the plus side, it sure didn’t hurt anything . . .

We also had a gate and some lumber delivered, and then returned said gate for a bigger one. And we sampled every fast-food restaurant in town.

There aren’t many.

And we got in some target practice.

No, not at the neighbor’s chickens. Oh, he has guineas too. Ick. BIG ick. And a rooster that crows ALL THE TIME.

And we made a lot of plans. A lot. And a lot of lists.

But in the end, we can’t wait to go back!

How many of you belong to a writers’ group? Why or why not? There are many kinds of groups, and it’s important to find the right one, or ones. Different locales, different purposes, different formats.

First, of course, there is the location, particularly virtual or IRL (in real life). You might not be able to find one IRL that’s convenient, either by time or day or location, so a virtual one would suffice. Or you might want both; the anonymity of the Internet is sometimes a good thing when it comes to support and critique, but IRL connections are invaluable.

Speaking of, do you want a critique group? Or a group that provides information and/or opportunities? Or one that’s mostly there for support and camaraderie? Pick one, pick all.

Just don’t get so carried away with group-joining that you have no time to write or do anything else.

For myself, IRL, I belong to the Saint Louis Writers’ Guild and the Missouri Writers’ Guild; the first is a chapter of the second. Virtually, I belong to a dozen—which seems like a lot, but I rarely even look at half of those, and only a few of the rest are set to notify me with new posts.

Why? Let’s start with virtual groups: they’re a good way to announce new titles, articles, or short stories or poems. They’re a good way to get a quick answer to writing questions or to bounce off ideas. You can also make some great connections for book events, venues, blogs, and interviewers and reviewers.

In some of my groups, I’ve got friends I’ve known for many years, and besides the friendship, it’s fascinating to see how far they’ve come in their own careers.

Personally, I think half a dozen online group memberships are manageable, which is why I rarely participate in most of them—however, I can always go check things out or maybe decide to be more involved from time to time.

Now, for IRL groups, here’s where the big push comes:

You should really, really join one!

Again, why?

I can only relate my own experience, and even that only from my own state—but there’s this thing called Google, ya know? J

Once a month, the SLWG has an open mic night, a meeting with guest speakers, and an author interview event with a Q&A. That’s a lot of activity, but there’s no pressure—you can attend all or none. They also have an active presence on social media, particularly a Facebook group, and they have other opportunities throughout the year as well, like Writers in the Park, a mini-conference.

The MWG turns 100 this year, and boasts past notable members such as Mark Twain. The MWG hosts and promotes many contests and conference opportunities during the year, particularly their annual conference, held in April. A typical conference includes speakers, workshops, agents and publishers for pitch sessions, as well as networking and readings and a bookstore.

Writing is such a solitary profession that I really encourage you to join both types of groups—everyone needs to get out of the house once in a while, and if you can hang with other writers, so much the better!