Author: Pamela Weis

Pamela Weis is a writer, musician, cat lover, and web developer. Only one of these things is her day job (for now). She lives in Indiana with her husband and their two black cats.
Looking out a kitchen window in Jersey City
Old Poems

Old Poem, #1

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Photo by Pamela Weis – Kitchen Window on Kensington, Jersey City, 2010

I don’t write a lot of poetry these days. It’s always come in waves and been more about processing the world around me than pursuing Poet as a personal title.

But some of the things I’ve written over the years deserve to be read, so I’ll post them now and then. Here’s the first.

Another Move
There are boxes of empty CD jewel cases
Mix tapes recorded during the ‘90s
Cat fur stuck to multiple layers of clear packing tape
The sole remains of precious
Surrogate children
The boxes are coated in thick black marker
One label scratched out for another
Re-use of a cardboard box
Recycling before it was cool to recycle
Dust mites have played rounds of golf and croquet
And danced tangos and whatever else dust mites do
In and on top of these boxes
Now becoming empty as I finally
Hesitantly
Place items into the trash.
The boxes have begun to degrade
No longer fit for re-use
For another move
Maybe down the street
Across the dividing line between the decent neighborhood
And the less decent neighborhood
“The other side of the tracks”
He told me, the first landlord I met
Two years ago
A young black man whom I always thought
I’d see again
I thought I would stay here longer
He walked me to this house where I now live
With my boxes still filled with unused items
From a previous life
He saw the Queen Anne Victorian house and said
“Yeah, I’ve lost this one, I know.”
He knew because I am a white woman
In a diverse neighborhood and this house suits me
His apartment was nicely renovated
But small and on the other side of the tracks
Where I will now go
Alone
And I will be fine
Because I know
That people are just people
That they too accumulate things they never use
Maybe they have tufts of cat fur stuck in the carpet
In between the cushions of a couch
A cat long gone
Pieces of past lives
Home to dust mites
Dancing and playing sports
Holding them back.

– Pamela Weis, 10/20/2010

The End, a screenshot
Writing About Writing

That’s a Whole Damn Novel!

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Photo by Pamela Weis – “The End” to my first completed novel (first draft), January 2020

I just finished writing an entire freaking novel! I’m a little stunned, I mean, sure, it’s a first draft, so it’s incredibly rough, and it’s my first one so…it probably stinks. But who cares! I did it!

It was my NaNoWriMo project. I finished with a little over 50,000 words at the end of November, but the story was not yet over. And now, a month and a half later, it’s done. My first complete historical fiction (or any kind of fiction) book. It might be a YA novel. It might not be. I’m not sure. I still don’t have a handle on this whole YA thing. But it doesn’t matter right now because wheeeee!!!

Sorry, I’m just a little overwhelmed. I feel like there should be champagne. I’m in a hotel. I could order room service, I suppose. But…nah, I’m going out with colleagues tomorrow. I’ll quietly toast my accomplishment then. Because of course, no one I work with knows about this writing stuff. Hardly anyone I know…knows. I’ve been through grad school. I know the pain and discomfort of someone asking, “so how’s your thesis coming along? What are studying again?” and feeling completely helpless to answer in any way that would be even remotely interesting to them, non-esoteric, and/or brief. That’s what this is like. It’s my unique, imperfect little baby and it’s impossible to explain it at this point. It’s been an incredible learning experience and I want to keep doing it! But I don’t want to talk about it. I mean, okay, I’ll blog about it, but I’m not giving plot details or anything.

So yeah, I haven’t been too open about this fiction thing. I will spill the beans gradually over time. For now, I just want to bask in this huge feeling of accomplishment. I wrote a whole damn novel! Yeah!

Stairwell in 1850 House Museum, New Orleans
Writing About Writing

NaNoWriMo 2019 Project

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Photo by Pamela Weis – Stairwell in 1850 House Museum, New Orleans 2018

I am dabbling in historical fantasy. I don’t want to pigeon hole my stories, but that’s pretty much what this is. Late 19th century Brooklyn with ghosts, witches, and a talking cat – yeah, that fits the bill.

The quality of the story may be best suited for a young adult audience, but I’m not sure yet. What differentiates a YA fantasy from an adult fantasy? Complex plot lines? Sophisticated prose? Adult versus juvenile characters? I have not read much YA, so I’m not the person to answer this.

Regardless, I am loving the research process, finding fascinating tidbits on late 19th century New York and Brooklyn to weave into the story. And since this is not pure history, I can pick and choose, which is quite liberating. What sorts of toilets were most common among middle class families in the 1890s? What were the popular songs played on pianos in wealthy homes? Did women wear trousers? What was public transit like, if it existed at all? What were the most offensive and pleasing aromas one experienced when walking down a street on a hot summer day? There are so many little details to discover! Plus, I have included some tiny elements from my own family history, largely in the way of names, plus a few other odds and ends. It is deeply satisfying to create an entire world and imagine how the people in that world live each day.

This is my NaNoWriMo project for 2019 and I am almost done. Just over 46,000 words written and I will finish a day early because I won’t be around to write on the final day! It has been a fun challenge. I did not go to any write-ins, mostly because I write at odd hours, but also because I don’t think I would like writing in the same space with other people. It sounds distracting. But maybe I will try one next year, out of curiosity. If nothing else, it’s probably a good way to become part of a solid writing community.

The most important part of this writing journey so far, even without the NaNoWriMo challenge to help me along, is that I feel more confident with each day about the quality of my writing, and that I enjoy the process. I have written at least 800 words every day for the past six weeks or so. This is my new habit. My new routine. My new daily “must do.” With any luck, it will eventually become some kind of livelihood. But that was never the goal. The goal was always to just do it. And I have.