the man who got away

i don’t think of you as much as I should
but on this day, i do.
for i remember the one christmas we spent together
my brothers and me sitting in the back seat and you

i remember driving around the city in your mercedes
when you said you had to hand out the gifts
to the public servants who waited on street corners
sacks of rice in the trunk and stacks of hundred peso bills

i remember the smiles of gratitude on their faces,
of how proud i felt being your daughter then
you were the man i looked up to so much
how i wished we could do that all over again

but that was the only christmas we ever spent together
and the memories that remain are now so few
like the sound of your laughter and the sight of your smile
and how my whole world revolved around you.

merry christmas, daddy

My Christmas Was Grand. How Was Yours?

So Christmas came and went
and I attended all parties but one
for after driving 250 miles for parties and overnighters
On Christmas day, I was just about done

Hacking and coughing,
not sleeping at all
Saying no to the 5-year old who won’t quit asking,
You could say I’m having a ball

So let me clear up my lungs
People think healing’s just a snap
But at least I can say I met Santa
even though I never got to sit on his lap

There were gifts aplenty
though I’ve long lost count
Santa’s been generous, it seems, this year
Even though his gifts all go on my account

But the 5-year old doesn’t know that yet
and maybe he never will
I just hope he knows he’s staying on the Naughty list
because next year, I won’t be able to foot the bill

So I hope your Christmas was grand
I know mine was okay
I missed one party, so it’s not all bad
Even if the party I missed was on Christmas day.

A Feel-Good Present, Nothing More

A few days ago, in my excitement for reaching #2 under the Wattpad Chicklit category usually occupied by writers I believe to be younger than me (because, after all, I am NO spring chicken), I posted an announcement stating that fact – my story reaching #2 and thanking everyone who got the story there.  A day or two later, I came across a poem about why such “ratings” should even matter, and that because it didn’t,  this particular writer whom I follow would continue writing as he always did with no regard for votes or ratings.

Whether or not the poem was directed at people like me who dared clutter their timeline with such notifications (the poem’s since been taken it down, I think), it rankled. I felt bad for a story I am working so hard on to reach #2, or for even ranking at all.  I even wrote passive aggressive poetry in response and ended up deleting my whole book of poems from Wattpad because my responses became just that – passive aggressive, and thus taking me away from the actual writing of said book whose rankings on a free writing site apparently annoyed others.

What happened to celebrating the act of being read?

My stories may never get to #1, or get 2 billion reads on Wattpad, nor even sell more than 10 copies on Amazon or Smashwords, even when offered for free, but #2 felt like an accomplishment in that my story actually mattered to some who found themselves rooting for my characters, and who made an effort to continue reading, voting and even a harder to effort to many, leave a comment.

So I will take the risk of cluttering your WP reader view by saying I’m proud that my little NaNoWriMo novel that begun as a short story challenge here on WordPress, now has gotten 100K views in less than 60 days.  It’s no 2 billion reads or 10 real-time sales – and may never even sell a copy once I take the plunge to query it to publishers because well, I am just a self-pubbed author after all with a dream – but it’s 100K that I didn’t have when I started posting the first chapters almost two months ago.  And that to me, is a feel-good present for this holiday season filled with too much angst over whether I’m providing my 5-year old with the perfect Christmas – especially when the tree is not yet up.

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So for this milestone – just 100K reads – I’m celebrating.  And thanking those readers who bothered to give it one read at a time.  Whoever you are, I love you all, in a loving a stranger kind of way.

And to everyone who’ve read this far, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!  And to those who don’t celebrate Christmas, Happy Holidays!