growing up Archives - Jessica Ferguson

I’ve learned a lot during this A to Z Challenge—and believe me, it has been a challenge. Writing about my family has taught me how to pick through memory clutter and mold experiences (sometimes unpleasant ones) into entertaining, colorful stories. As a result, I’ve realized my childhood memories weren’t as unpleasant as I’d originally thought; they were just a little distorted. Or am I distorting them now?

I’ve sat in Sunday school classes and listened to other women rave about their Betty Crocker moms and their Father Knows Best dads, and I’ve wondered if they were telling the truth. One shouldn’t sit in church and wonder if their friends are lying, should they? But everyone’s parents seemed very different from mine.

My mother never gave me cooking lessons, or turned the kitchen over to me. When I took Home Economics and tried to make a dress, we often came to blows over her sewing machine. Our home became a war zone each night when I tackled homework. I couldn’t learn under Mom because she didn’t have the patience to teach. My passive dad wasn’t forceful enough to instruct.

My parents were strict way beyond fairness—at least Mom was, and Dad always backed her up. They were quick to dole out punishment, and very lacking when it came to encouragement. I was never told “You can do and be anything you set your mind to.” Were you? I know it depends on when you were born. Anyone born after the 60s probably had it sweet.

My parents didn’t know how to give encouragement because they’d never received it themselves. Mom was the oldest of ten kids. She didn’t have time for dreams, unless it was when she climbed that tree to read her books. Her family thought she was odd, persnickety, and wondered where she got the “perfection gene.” My dad was somewhere in the middle of thirteen kids. He was quiet, incredibly shy and his family made fun of him because he didn’t talk much—if at all. He didn’t talk when I knew him either. If I had to choose a parent’s head to live in for a week, I’d choose my dad’s. He was a mystery.

My previous post was about family quotes, but I left out the most important one: You’re in for a rude awakening. I heard that a lot, and can’t tell you how often it flashes through my mind. Anytime I failed a test, got in trouble at school, asked for something outlandish … I heard, “You’re in for a rude awakening” with a long spiel about how life isn’t anything like we think it’s going to be.

And it isn’t. Sometimes it’s better; sometimes it’s worse, but it’s never like we think it’s going to be. That’s a given.

When I visit my mom in the nursing home, I marvel at the “child” she has become—a small white-haired woman waiting for someone to tell her what to do, how to do it, and when. Well, actually, we can’t tell her when to do something because she won’t remember. She lives in the very immediate now. We often explain how to turn on the TV for the hundredth time during a day . Her faded blue eyes are like question marks—so unlike the confident, sometimes hard and angry ones I remember; the ones that sent silent messages to me and my brother when we were growing up. Her eyes could strike fear in us and make promises of what awaited us when we got home. Patience has been forced on her—along with a lot more.

You’re in for a rude awakening, she’d tell me. And when I visit her in the nursing home, realize I miss the woman she was, I know Mom was right. My rude awakening has finally come.

Share something that breaks your heart.

It’s a kid’s world. At least from my perspective these days. I can remember how fun it was to run through my grandmother’s pasture chasing butterflies, digging for earthworms or trying to catch crawdads in the creek. By the time I became a teen, time stood still. I couldn’t grow up fast enough.

Now, looking back, I’m wondering why such a hurry?

My mother can no longer live in her home. I’ve been going through her things–trying to decide what gets dumped into a trash bag, what goes to Goodwill and what I should keep (and what my brother keeps). I think brother and I are falling all over ourselves trying NOT to step on each other’s toes. We’ve both inherited the pack rat gene since both parents had it, so I think he feels like I do–no matter who gets what, we always have access to it.

The house above was my grandparents house. My brother bought it years ago and renovated/updated it. Before the renovation, he moved it to the woods. No cable tv–no Internet. Just the sound of coyotes at night, wind whipping through the tall pines … and bugs. Lots of bugs.

See John Wayne? I bought him for my dad back in the 70s when we both enjoyed a drink or two. John was filled with something … I can’t remember what. He’s perched on the empty shelf… waiting to see who will get him. I’m tempted, but I know deep down in my gut, someone else wants him. I’ll wait … wait… wait … The empty shelves are depressing.

So… now you know why I’m not posting regularly. My head/heart isn’t in it, but I’m thinking about you.
And for those of you who truly believe it’s a kid’s world, and you write for kids, check out these two markets:

Speeding Star is a new trade imprint from Enslow Publishers, a company known for its educational titles. Speeding Star will focus on stories geared to boys, and the editors are actively seeking submissions. Unagented writers are welcome. Fiction manuscripts should be between 5,000 and 12,000 words, written at a fourth-grade reading level. The editors are especially interested in adventure stories, mysteries, sports stories and fantasy fiction with boy protagonists. Submit the manuscript through their online submission form, found here.

Amazon.com is adding two new imprints for children’s books to its growing list of publishing endeavors. Two Lions will be devoted to children’s picture books through middle grade books, while Skyscape will focus on YA and New Adult titles. Margerey Cuyler heads up Two Lions and Tim Ditlow will oversee Skyscape. Together, the two imprints make up Amazon Children’s Publishing. Query to acp-submit@amazon.com. Attach the complete manuscript for a picture book and the first three chapters for all other works.

R is for Rude Awakening

Inheriting John Wayne