“Ketch” Me Writing

Beginning of a new year and I have been inspired to pick myself up and get my nose to the grindstone, or fingers to computer, as it were.
I had been doing most of my writing in my head, jotting notes for several different projects here and there, editing finished ones, (or those mostly finished), in my head all along. But now, it’s time to get serious again.
I picked up one finished story, looked over notes a friend made, (tossed most of her ideas), and submitted it to my first choice of publications late last week. Generally, I ignore the entreatments to not make simultaneous submissions, but I would really prefer to be in this one. If I get a rejection, I will offer it elsewhere.

I had this same attitude with another story, but have not resubmitted it elsewhere. I was considering whether I should take another look at that work and then look into where else to submit it, or whether to work on the novel which I started long ago; one which has really been playing on my mind. I wasn’t moving on either story, being of two minds until the other night, when The Hound asked a question on Facebook about boats in regards to a story of his own.
I had reached out on FB myself some time back concerning boats, but I got only one vague answer. Jeff was gallant enough to let me piggy-back onto his question, and his knowledgeable friend was generous to me with advice, pointing me in the right direction. (Thanks again, Gentlemen!)
Recently, I got into a conversation with a writing acquaintance about the idea of making winning a big lottery and the fun that we both thought we could have being philanthropists, by endowing deserving charities, scholarships, and random acts of do-goodering! No jewels, extravagant homes, no obscenely priced accouterments. Nope, not us.
But in looking up ketches, I found such a beautiful one in Italy that’s for sale and I’m drooling over and now
I want a boat.
I always wanted a boat. I went sailing on a very small boat with a neighbor when we lived on a lake. I loved tooling around the tributaries of the Chesapeake Bay and then into the bay itself on my brother-in-law’s motor boat many years ago. (I loved the ‘yacht club’ with the steel band where he docked the boat.) I drooled over the bigger boats, and if I could have wished a wish, I would have had a place on the water in Annapolis and had my own boat. But, alas, it was not to be.

Oh, well, I better get back to the story. That’s the closest I am going to get to my (literal) dream-boat!

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