Happy Thanksgiving

Be thankful, count your blessings, and enjoy your day!

I'll Take Option...

Remember that Huey Lewis & the News song? All I Want Is a Couple Days Off! Well, thanks to the generosity of my company, I get the day after Thanksgiving off. That means I could either a) spend that day getting up extremely early, driving to the mall or Wal-Mart, and put myself through the tortuous routine of Black Friday or b) spend the day lounging around, reading, writing, and relaxing. (I think that kitten in the picture above has a pretty darn good relaxing spot!)

I think I'll take option b.

Not that shopping on Black Friday is a bad thing...from what I've seen, you can get incredible deals. But since I hate crowds anyway and am not a morning person, I don't think it would be in my best interest to hit the stores Friday.

Frankly, I'd rather do most of my shopping online. No stores, no crowds, no cranky people. Just me, my computer, my cup of tea, and maybe Frank Sinatra playing in the background.

So are you one of those people who loves to shop on Black Friday, or do you stay as far away from the stores as possible?

What's In Your Novel?

While writing last night, I made a realization. In each of my novels (this is the third one I'm working on), letters have made a prominent appearance in the story. This was not planned on my part, but rather something that has subconsciously appeared.

I don't know if I would go so far as to call it a symbol. I do not use letters as a deliberate representation of something. Rather, it is more of a...calling card, if you will. I'm sure there might be a literary term for this, but it escapes me at the moment. So for the sake of argument, I will simply refer to this type of personal fingerprint as the "calling card."

Using a letter as my calling card doesn't surprise me. Ever since I was quite young, I have loved to write and receive letters. I used to run to the mailbox every day during the summer in hopes of receiving such a letter. I was disappointed more often than not, but each day I trudged to the mailbox on our farm, I had hope that a letter with my name painstakingly handwritten on the envelope would appear.

In this day and age of electronic communication, an email isn't nearly as good as a letter, but I would much rather get an email than a telephone call. Maybe it's my love of words, of my ability to sit and absorb what I'm reading and craft a thoughtful response, that is behind it. Don't get me wrong, however - a good gab on the phone is priceless! But I also enjoy a good letter.

My grandmother and I have taken to writing each other via the old fashioned way - pen and paper. Even though she has email, I still love to send her handwritten notes. When I see her handwriting, it makes me feel much closer to her.

Maybe that's why the letter has appeared in all my novels. I can also think of a few short stories where I've also used letters. What amazes me about all this is that it is not a conscious decision to use letters - they naturally occur when I write. I've used them in my fiction to convey information, to keep characters connected, to reveal secrets, to break bad news, to enlighten and encourage, and to give hope.

So do you have a calling card in your writing?

The New Office

Well, here it is - the new office. I wanted to get a smaller desk than the L-shaped one I've had for years, though it left me with a bit less space surface-wise. But I just see that as less space to get cluttered!

My desk faces a window where I have a lovely view of trees and the beautiful sky. If you look close, you can see that I have a few things on top of my monitor - a typewriter pencil sharpener that has never been used as a pencil sharpener, but instead reminds me of how I started writing in the first place - on my mother's old manual typewriter; a stuffed puppy that my daughter gave me which is virtually identical to the "Little Puppy" she has, a reminder of our wonderful bond; and a Boyd's Bear figurine of a judge which reminds me...well, it doesn't serve as a reminder of anything, really - I just like it. *grin*

My desk must also have photos on it - I have to be surrounded by my loved ones. So I have a picture of my daughter when she was a baby, a picture of my dog, Charlie, and I, and photos of my grandparents. And if you look really closely on top of the computer tower, you can see a bit of my Snoopy collection. Gotta put the Literary Ace up there!

Yesterday I indulged in having time for myself. I wrote, I pondered, I dreamed. I got in touch with old friends. I listened to some Big Band music. I started a new book. I took a nap. And I relaxed. That was my goal in creating this little space - a relaxing, calming, welcoming environment perfect for writing.

What's on your desk? I'd love to see a picture!

Rosie's Good Advice

Thanks for all the good thoughts on yesterday's post. I'm doing loads better, and I know it's all thanks to my family and friends, prayer, and you guys!

Gotta give myself a pat on the back here - I worked out three times this week, and one of those times was today, a Saturday. *gasp* And when I got home, I made lasagna with whole wheat noodles, ground turkey (healthier than hamburger), and lots of veggies in my sauce. Suffice to say, it turned out wonderful! And it was also pretty cool to listen to an oldtime radio show while I cooked - it was a Sam Marlowe episode, (Raymond Chandler's character made famous by Humphrey Bogart in The Maltese Falcon) and it definitely kept my attention.

I've also got a great recipe for diabetic chocolate chip cookies and have all the ingredients - I just need to set aside some time to make them. Haven't made homemade cookies in a long time. I usually just buy the cookie dough and drop it onto the cookie sheet. But those cookies just aren't very good for me, so I can't wait to try the new recipe.

Next on the agenda for cooking is a big batch of turkey chili. YUM. I'm waiting for the weather to turn colder before I make it, though. Now if I can just try and eat the chili without a yummy, delectable cinnamon roll, I'll be good.

And it's time to get focused on the writing again. I've got to figure out how to keep writing and stay focused on it when life gets topsy-turvey. That is the challenge right now! And with four lovely days of vacation coming up for Turkey Day, I think I've time to properly immerse myself in my writing. I can't wait. :-)

Emotional Turmoil

I'm a writer. And when I'm upset, I write to work through things. I journal, sometimes I'll write angst-ridden poetry, or other times I'll blog about it. Today is one of those days for blogging.

Over the past 24 hours, I have learned that there are incredibly manipulative and conniving people in the world whose sole purpose is to destroy your peace of mind, to cast doubt, to make you second-guess your gut instinct. In short, they want to make you miserable and they enjoy doing it.

I am one of those people who thinks the best of everyone. I don't want to believe that people like this exist. But they do. And without going into detail, I had to deal with one of those people yesterday (no, it was not my hubby). The ramifications of it blew me away. I cried, I yelled (and scared my kitties in the process!), and I just kept asking, why me? Why me?

I spent a lot of time on the phone sobbing to different people, I cradled a box of tissues next to me and used plenty, and I thought a few times that the nausea in my stomach might overtake me.

I got through it, with God's help and the support of my family and friends. But I think it knocked a bit more cynicism into me. I don't like to believe that there are people out there who deliberately seek to hurt you. I don't want to think that I am their target because through me, they seek to get what they want in some twisted, sick, evil fashion. It just completely shocks me. It floors me. It makes me suspicious. It makes me wary. And I don't want to be wary of people.

Times like these always remind me of the classic novel, The Lord of the Flies, where the major question is, "Is man inherently good or inherently evil?" I've always thought that man is inherently good, but is capable of evil. And that is how I see the human race. I do think that there are lots of shades of gray in this question, though, and that we are all capable of good and bad. But that's quite the philosophical discussion that I do not have the energy to get into.

Suffice to say, today I feel a bit more distrustful and a lot more cynical about human beings than I did when I woke up yesterday morning. It's knocked a bit more naivety out of me. Maybe that's a good thing. I'm not sure.

Fun at the Zoo

Today I'm feeling a bit emotionally drained, so I'm going to point you to an old post I made last year that should make you laugh, or at the very least, crack a good smile!

This video was shot by me during a visit to the Omaha Zoo with my family. Long story short, I don't think the tiger was happy with being filmed...

Click here! then come back and tell me what you think!

Go On and Move

Well. I'm officially back to the exercise. I joined a gym similar to Curves in that it has the 30-minute total work-out and is for women only - but the one exception is that it is open 24-7. I like that. I can go work out whenever I feel like it - Sunday afternoons or even on a Friday night (though I highly doubt I'll be at the gym on a Friday night!).

When I went in for my training session, I was pretty familiar with all the machines except for a few new ones. And when my body started moving and bending and twisting in ways it hadn't for awhile, it wasn't too happy with me. But on the other hand, it felt great to be doing something again. My work-outs lately have consisted of moving boxes and walking up stairs. Before that, I was taking lots of long walks, but after my dear Charlie passed away, even that was hard to do. I thought about him the other night and started crying again. I so miss him.

My eating habits have changed again. When I went to the grocery store last week, I planned out my meals and had my shopping list all ready to go even before I stepped foot inside. I bought healthy stuff this time - fruits (apples, blueberries), vegetables (green peppers, zucchini, mushrooms, carrots), health whole grains (bread, pasta) and sugar-free snacks (jello with Cool Whip - yum!). Ok, so I caved on some delectable biscotti, but they're only 100 calories each, so I figure that's not too bad.

I hope the combination of healthy eating and exercise will help me shed these unwanted pounds. I've done it before - and hopefully I can do it again. Plus I think a lot better and feel a lot better when I'm exercising and eating right - which translates to writing better. I've written about the importance of exercising if you're a writer before and it bears repeating.

Writers do a lot of sitting. Therefore, it's imperative that we stretch, jump, walk, run, whatever the case may be...as long as we move.

So get thee to moving! Your body - and your mind - will thank you for it!

In the Face of Fear

*Deep breath*

Ok. I am going to be brave. Very brave.

Last night, I wandered into my bedroom, sat at my desk, and put my fingers on the keyboard. "Let's do a bit of freewriting," I thought. "See where your mind, and your fingers, take you."

This is what appeared on my screen. Most of it is verbatim. I edited only a few places to help it make sense. But it flowed out of me. Time stopped. I couldn't hear the music playing in the background. I couldn't hear my daughter shrieking with delight over her latest adventure on her Scooby Doo video game.

I was in my writing world. I was free.

Here it is:

I have this mental image in my head of me sitting at the computer, tapping away, eyes concentrating on the screen, my mind completely engaged in the act of writing. I do not sense time turning, I do no sense the change in temperature of the room, whether it be hot or cold, stuffy or cozy. I just write. I am the writer, at last, complete in her bliss, doing what she loves to do.

And then reality coldly chucks me on the chin, a bony finger with a pointed nail, that scratches my flesh and returns me to my mental prison.

“No, that is not how it is, not today,” it says. Reality is cruel and unforgiving, snatching your dreams from you as quickly as a dog retreats from an abusive master.

“But it can be like that today,” I protest.

Then the mind plays its game again, the wall sliding into place, click, click! And it is shut.

“How do I open it? How do I get to that place?” I cry. My fingers dig into the metal, but leave nothing but fingerprints and sweat and fear.

Yes, fear. Always the fear. Perhaps it comes out at such times as these because it knows I am weak, knows that my mind is fragile. The words have been dormant too long, fighting for air, being squelched by too many other things in life. Demands and deadlines and drama. They have not been allowed to be released, to meander through the fields and wind their way around the brain, playing, flirting, clashing, again and again.

Fear says, "Stop, you’ve written enough, no more, no more! It will not be good, it will drag you into the muddy underside of a worm’s belly. There will be no release from it, no salvaging it."

Yet you refuse. You purse your lips, heedless of the cracked skin, heedless of the throbbing in your head demanding you go lay down, let the battle be over, acquiesce to fear’s heckling laughter. Your fingers continue to move and create and work, over and over, letters then words then sentences then paragraphs. Images. Emotions. Thoughts. All there, all clamoring for space. You watch them, let them go play, let them create havoc on the page, let them climb up and down and around and through, over and back.

Fear retreats in the midst of the words' giggling joy. It is powerless, hiding behind its cloak of imagined steel. The words ping against it, rain at first, then snow, then hail, tearing the cloth, exposing fear’s sordid, skeletal body for what it is – fragile and thin. Breakable. Surmountable.

It crumples, hands raised in defeat, in torment, pleading for mercy. You do not give it. You do not surrender. You are its master. Victory is yours.

Well. There it is. My written assault against the fear of writing. And let me tell you, it felt good to write it. Does it make sense? Probably not. But that's ok. Stream of consciousness is sometimes a good thing. It unlocks the mind and makes it possible to create.

What amazes me is that I really like some of the imagery in this - even though I have no idea where it came from. And that is writing. That is happiness. That is joy.

A Start

Yesterday I finally took the plunge back into my manuscript. I knew exactly what I wanted to write, having formulated a scene in my head a bit earlier in the day. The writing still felt a bit stilted as my fingers pounded on the keyboard, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought. So. That's a good thing. I've officially "started writing" again and it's a welcome relief. I plan on looking at my goals again to try and motivate myself to get this novel done and start on the next one.

The weekend was good - quiet, but good. Friday night, I went to go see Quantum of Solace all by myself. Nothing like a cold soda, a bag of M&M's, and movie popcorn and a good movie. And wow, it was a good movie. I'm not sure if it was as good as Casino Royale, but I'm still formulating an opinion. Daniel Craig is still excellent as Bond, though, and I have enjoyed how he has reinvented the character.

Saturday I slept in (bliss!), read a lot, did some laundry and other household chores, and just relaxed. That's the kind of weekends I like to have.

How about you? How was your weekend?

It's a Perfect Blend

(Photo: Music room at Chatsworth)

Since I no longer have a t.v. (although my daughter and I did watch the DVD of Kung Fu Panda last night on my laptop), I have started listening to music a lot more. And I've also found something else to listen to: old time radio shows.

As a child, I remember coming home on a Sunday night, listening to an old detective show on AM radio in my parents' car. I remember looking out at the stars, waiting with baited breath for the villain to be revealed.

And through the magic of the Internet, I was able to find a plethora of old time radio shows available for download free. Yeah, I like the free part! There's the Bob Hope Show, Sherlock Holmes, Amos and Andy, and a bunch I've never heard of before. So I've been happily downloading shows and copying them to CD to listen on my cool Crosley radio.

I've also been listening to National Public Radio. My local station plays classical music every evening and there's something so soothing about listening to it with the fireplace on and a good book in my hands. Talk about being relaxed!

And of course, I've also got my 1940s Big Band and World War II era music to play, too. I love Frank Sinatra, Dick Haymes, Doris Day, and Rosemary Clooney. Let's just say I love to immerse myself in nostalgia!