It’s the End of RimaRama As We Know It

It’s difficult to write a blog post after you’ve been truant for going on two months. I don’t have a particularly good reason for my absence, only that life got busy and I became preoccupied with other pursuits. I started this blog five years ago when I was home alone with two very small children most of the day. It was a way to exercise one of my favorite muscles (the writing muscle) and to document the life of my young family with all of its joys, humor and frustrations.

You know where this is going, right?

My children are older, sentient beings now, and it doesn’t feel right to write about them with wild abandon like I used to. (And that leaves me with only the P-Dawg for potential writing fodder.) Meanwhile, my interests and those things that I always thought defined me have changed. For as long as I can remember, I thought the only thing I was ever good at, that I ever really wanted to do, was to write. This blog – and all of your kind words of encouragement – gave me self-confidence in that regard. Showing up here every week opened doors for me and eventually led me to do something I never thought I had it in me to do: to write a book.

I wrote a humorous, RimaRama style memoir (that’s “mem-wah”) about my experience growing up American, but mired deeply in the culture of my immigrant family. I wrote it with the intention of kindofsortofmaybe trying to get it published, as all good bloggers-turned-memoirists do. I wrote and edited and re-wrote and re-edited for upwards of a year. I asked a few trusted people to read it and give me feedback, and when I felt that I couldn’t make my book any better, I started querying literary agents, hoping with my entire heart and fearing with my entire soul that someone would ask to have a look.

And someone did. A few agents asked for the first few chapters, and then for the entire manuscript. For several weeks I waited with bated breath, cautiously optimistic that someone might bite. As the weeks turned to months, I re-negotiated my feelings on the whole endeavor and thought that even if no one offered me representation, I’d at least get constructive feedback on the manuscript.

That was back in September. I haven’t heard back from any of the agents who have my full, from which I’ve drawn the natural conclusion that my book was such a disappointment to those few brave souls who agreed to have a look, that they are too disgusted even to respond with a friendly “no thanks.”

But Dear Readers, I am not bitter. Really, I’m not. See, the cheesy beauty of it all (a realization at which I’ll admit it took me awhile to arrive) is that writing that book was worth it because through it, I wrote myself. It seems simplistic to say that writing the story of one’s life illuminates and solidifies one’s true self, but there it is. And here’s the other thing: maybe not every Tom, Dick and Harry or book club in America needs to read it.

While clinging to the dream of life as a published writer like a cat in an inspirational poster, I discovered that I really like art. Not just looking at it, but making it myself. And the urgent need I used to feel to sit in front of a computer daily and bleed words was replaced, bit by bit, with an all-consuming desire to create visual beauty rather than written truth.

That’s where I am now. Forgive me for being so long-winded about it all, but what I want to tell you, since many of you have been reading my words for several years now, it not that I want to stop writing altogether, but that I want to allow myself the freedom to write differently, and about different things. I’d like to turn this space into a place to document my creative projects and pursuits. And I’d like the freedom of a blog where sometimes, I just “call it in.

That’s not to say I won’t post the occasional story or anecdote, but I’d also like, on occasion, to simply upload a photograph or two and be done with it. It won’t be the RimaRama you’re used to. (But it probably won’t totally suck.)

Still, I feel that I owe you, my faithful readers, a warning that I’m about to change direction.

I’m going to follow my bliss, and I’d love it if you stayed, but I’ll understand if you go.

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10 thoughts on “It’s the End of RimaRama As We Know It

  1. alejna

    I will happily follow you, whichever direction you decide to go. And now that I’ve typed that, I’m realizing that there are a few directions I wouldn’t follow you. I mean, I’m not big into, say professional wrestling or the nitty gritty of sausage-making. So I’m sort of hoping you won’t go those directions. Though, who knows. Maybe with your wit and charm, you could become my favorite source of sausage-making/professional wrestling anecdotes.

    (But I do like the crafty things you’ve shared here.)

    Reply
  2. Becca

    Oh I am so glad this wasn’t truly a farewell post! I was holding my breath.

    I’ll be happy to join you in the new direction. And I would love to read your book one day. I’ve always found the stories of your family and culture so interesting!

    Reply
  3. Amelia Sauter

    When creativity takes on a life of its own, we have no choice but to follow. The alternative is we risk losing our sanity. Oh, wait, scratch that: writers lose their sanity no matter what! I’ve barely blogged since I started writing a novel last year. A novel?! I always swore I’d never touch the stuff, and now I’m snorting the heroin of writing. Try some! Do it! Chase that creative high! Then crash hard and do it again! Woo!

    Reply
  4. Kat

    Hooray! To me it just sounds like the natural progression of life, in general. While our kids are young we pour everything we’ve got into them. All we write about is them. As they get older their stories are all theirs and we return a little bit of the focus on to ourselves. Little by little we begin to explore what makes us, US. I think you’re blog is following your life’s progression. Just as it should.
    I’m excited to read, see, and witness it! :)

    And congrats on writing your memoirs! That is FANTASTIC!!!!

    Reply
  5. Jan F

    How exciting for you and , as the others have said, a natural progression. You still have your book of memoirs which, even if never published , will be a wonderful family heirloom. I look forward to seeing where the road leads you.

    Reply
  6. Managed Chaos

    I love that you are following your passion, no matter which direction it takes you. The memoir, whether you publish of not, is a wonderful heirloom for you and your family.

    Reply
  7. San Diego Momma (Deb)

    I’ll always be here (even though I’ve been AWOL for months).
    I love your words, and I know I’ll love whatever direction your creativity takes you in, too.
    I think it’s brave and wonderful that you are honoring this new aspect of your artist soul and I can’t wait to see where you go with it.

    Reply
  8. Marta

    I’m glad that you’re not disappearing all together and are just focusing on the new pursuits that bring you joy. I realized at some point in the last 6 months that writing in my blog stopped being something I wanted to do, but felt more like an obligation. That I needed to write, because I hadn’t in so long. And the longer time passed the more difficult it seemed to write about the present without any background of what had led up to it.

    I’m utmost impressed that you wrote a book and put it out there for publication, regardless of if it comes to fruition that in itself is an amazing feat that you should be so proud of!

    Reply
  9. Ginamonster

    The great thing about having your own little corner of the blogosphere is that it’s YOURS to do with as you please. I’ll still stop by. I’ll still stop by because while it may be of a different style, it’s still YOUR style. I think that’s why we stop by anyway. Because of you.

    Reply

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