For My Husband on Valentine’s Day

Unfortunately, the husband and I had to spend Valentine’s Day apart this year. Nevertheless, he still managed to spoil me from afar with chocolates and TWO bouquets. And knowing his Texas girl is a fanatic for her home state, he even managed to track down a Lone-Star Living bouquet:

True to disorganized form, I wasn’t as good at getting a timely gift into his hands. But for my husband, I offer this Sara Groves song (one of my favorites):

Baby can you help me get undone
The party is over and their hearts were won
There’s a zipper in the back
But I can’t reach it on my own
And I am dying to get out of this so

Baby will you help me get undone

I don’t even remember how I got this on
I started out pretending
Now I don’t recognize myself
And I could use a little help

You have no pretenses
All your walls are fences I can see right through
You have no two faces
You know where our place is and that’s why I need you
Oh baby

Baby will you help me get undone
I don’t even remember how I got this on
I started out pretending
Now I don’t recognize myself
And I could use a little help

Cause I started out pretending
Now I don’t recognize myself
And I could use a little help
Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby
Will you help me get undone

Continue reading “For My Husband on Valentine’s Day”
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An Ode….

An ode (that’s technically a limerick) to my husband, in honor of his patient creativity in helping me re-plot my novel this weekend:

There once was a man whose writer wife had

Written a book whose problems drove her mad

She asked him plot questions

Nagged for edits, suggestions

With a sigh, he gave advice ironclad*

Continue reading “An Ode….”

While poking around on Gloria Chao’s blog, I found the following quote in a writing-journey-related guest post by Meredith Ireland:

“My first thank you is to my husband for putting up with my bathrobe clad, coffee mug holding, writer self. His faith in me never wavered even when mine did.”

I wish the picture Ireland paints here was an exaggeration. But given the fact that I didn’t brush my teeth on Saturday until 2 PM because I was too busy writing, I can’t protest too loudly.

So instead, I’ll underline and boldface that “thank you.” I know living with someone who talks to characters like they’re real, and sometimes frequently constantly frets about whether she’s talented enough to make this whole “writing thing” work (no matter how many publication credits I’ve accumulated) can’t be fun. But Baby, you handle it with panache.

 

*Featured image is property of Kelli Russell Agodon.