Happy Birthday, BetsyG-Spot
It’s been a year since The BetsyG-Spot first went live with Once Bitten, my essay about daring to fall in love again after heartache. It’s been a year of lessons for me. I’ve learned that I can apparently write about my love life—past or present—pretty much indefinitely. I’ve also learned that the Internet is not the goldmine for writers as it was billed to be, and that readership doesn’t just drop into your lap, especially among the over-40 crowd. It’s surprised me how many loyal male readers I have, although I can see how revealing the secrets to the female mind could be a draw.
One thing I’ve been pleased with is that The BetsyG-Spot seems to stimulate its loyal readership, most of whom comment offline. It is nice to be read, even if by a small audience, and nicer to be understood and appreciated.
This week is also the anniversary of the death of my aunt Miriam (see the dedication page for more about her), who inspired me to do what I wanted to do by her example. It’s still surreal to me that she is gone. She is very much alive in my memory, as if I’m watching a movie. But I miss being able to talk to her, to share my work with her, to learn from her.
My cousins are sharing an exhibit of her work this summer to honor her memory. In preparation, they have photographed all her works (she was an artist, in case you didn’t read the dedication) and shared them online for family members to see and request pictures for after the show. I marked a few things that I both liked and that reminded me of her. I don’t know what my cousins will give me, but while some pieces have higher value as art, the piece I want the most is a sketch of part of her living room. This sketch features some of her sculpture and her knickknacks, but above all, it puts me in the room with her. Its value to me? Priceless.
I had hoped to make more of a splash on this anniversary, but over the past couple of weeks the urge to write has been deflated. I feel as if I need a good, long break from my job to regain my energy for this, my work. One of the good things about teaching, when I taught in the computer lab at my son’s school, was that I had the summers off. Now my ex is making less money and expecting a bigger contribution from me, a situation that arose when he lost his job a few years back and I had to work full-time to keep my household from going under. There was no way to pedal back after that; my income is now too important to my household. But as a writer, I desperately need the time off. Some writers are able to squeeze in an hour here or an hour there, but I am not that kind of writer. I need to waste an hour before I even get started, and then the time is gone. I have it in my head to try to take off as much of August as I can, but I don’t know how that will jibe with my main client.
I’m a wilted flower, and if I don’t get watered soon…Sigh.
And it’s because of this wilting and deflating that you haven’t seen your Sex in the Suburbs post yet this week. I hope to write something tomorrow, as it’s important to me that I keep up the schedule.
Thanks so much for being a part of The BetsyG-Spot over the past year. It is truly appreciated.
June 17th, 2009 at 12:57 am
Betsy ! as we say over here – courage ! keep it up, I love reading your posts and getting the email when I get up in the morning is a happy-making moment. I just hope you don’t stop…!
June 19th, 2009 at 8:55 pm
Betsy…as someone who has lost so many relatives in my life (I was a late-in-life “welcome surprise”) but those who were so very special to me, be they aunts, uncles, cousins…are already gone. My own mum, daddy, sister (my best friend) and my big brother…they have gone before me. What is left is a wonderful brother in Las Vegas, several nieces and nephews, and even a beloved “ex” sister in law who is more sister than my own sister was.
That whole that’s been left behind I have learned can’t be filled by my kids, my relatives…or my ideals…it can only be filled by God. So here I am trusting Him to help me somehow get my life together again and heal me…so far, AMAZING.
Thanks for sharing your hurts and your loves so candidly with us, we are all the better for it.
June 19th, 2009 at 9:06 pm
Thanks so much for your lovely comment. I have been relatively fortunate in this regard, but I also have a very small family.
I will try to pull out of my rut and keep producing. I’m sincerely appreciate your readership.