Jess of All Trades

Your Words Alone

2011-04-27T08:53:00.004-04:00

I once read a statement that has been so devastating to my creative productivity that I hesitate to utter it here, or anywhere, ever again. It seemed innocuous at the time, honest, and true enough for the person who spoke it that I accepted it as truth. A personal truth. Something that applied to me, although I had never experienced it.

I'm going to state it here in order to render it false. I read it so long ago I honestly can't remember who said it; writer, artist, musician... but here it is, paraphrased:

A woman can only be creative in one aspect at a time. That was why I didn't get anything done while I was pregnant.

Yes, you read that correctly. Reading this simple statement as a young artist affected me so profoundly that I still struggle against it. I have not been pregnant and don't plan on it for awhile, so for me it was applicable in the sense of multiple projects. Multiple interests. Being a girl of all trades. This meant that what I was doing was impossible and ineffective.

And so it became. I knew, after reading that, that I should strip away some interests in order to Focus.

But it's not true.

Creativity begets creativity.

Momentum creates hunger.

Hunger creates desire.

Passion.

Energy.

CREATION.

The more you do, the more you will do.

That might seem obvious, but try, as a teenage girl (or lad, having read some equal sort of nonsense about male creativity and limitation) and break away from a statement like that. I have a feeling that swollen ankles, morning sickness and the utter exhaustion brought on by creating a human being had more to do with not being productive than anything to do with how much creativity a woman can handle.

A few posts ago I wrote about defining your own rules for life. I have, through reading vast amounts of spiritual how-to from Christian, Western, Eastern, Native, African, Science Fiction, Fantasy, myth, folklore and human condition, filtered and refined my own set of values and rules to live by.

And the ultimate rule is this:

I am unlimited.

Don't take another's words into your heart as truth unless it is your truth. Don't obey anyone's words but your own.

If you're going to have limits, at least set your own. With your words. Your words alone.

Why Creativity is Like Soap

2011-03-26T09:24:00.001-04:00

You start out really liking soap. What's not to like? It cleans you off, it smells good, it's enjoyable. There's so many different Kinds, and you try them all. You try lots of stuff, maybe find a few varieties you like. Then you decide, what the heck, I like it so much, I might as well do it myself.

Your first attempt at making your own soap is really when you take the remnants of all the others and smash them together, combining styles, scents, and colors in an interesting, fun, creative, but ultimately unattractive Lump of Soap.

Some people stop at this stage, because they don't think they really understand what goes into soap making and they're not worried about learning.

Some people keep going, and realize that the ugly lump just won't do. You want to make your Own Soap. For Real. So you research how it's Done. You discover the real ingredients. You look at what the master soap makers use, and you copy their recipes until you really understand soap-making through and through.

Some people stop at this stage.

But you continue, until you could make a bar of soap as well as anyone, with one hand tied behind your back.

Then, one day, you realize you're ready, really ready, to make your own original soap. No more smashing together. No more copying recipes. You know all the ingredients. You know the techniques for stirring, heating, adding scent and color and flair and oh, interesting bits of herb and oatmeal.

You, my friend, are a master soap-maker.

....hey, that kind of sounds like writing.

~~~~~~~~~

Being Human: Personal Manifesto

2011-02-25T09:57:00.001-05:00

I'm rereading Ray Bradbury's excellent book Zen and the Art of Writing. I've become so saturated with talk of craft and market and selling that I have to get back to my roots in writing, which turns out to be pure joy and hunger. The rest is for second draft. Or third.

I also had the epiphany that we spend a lot of our lives looking for advice from others on how to live our lives. People who have walked down the road we want to walk down, for instance. When are we old enough to start giving advice? When do we get to say, "This Is How I Do Things."? And when does it become valid?

I decided (just yesterday, in fact) that I'm old enough. I'll still take advice and look for ways to grow. But, as in all things creative, I think there is no One Right Way to live a life. There are only Methods. (Various writers will say, "You Must get up at this time and write. You Must write 1,000 words a day. You Must edit before you go on." And the next writer will be different. They have discovered a Method, not the only Right Way. Life is the same)

So I started thinking about My Way. (Not the song, although it's awesome). These are things that work for me. These are my practices of daily living that have developed me into a pretty healthy, almost always happy, productive, forward-looking individual. They might not work for you. But they are my method. And they are no longer things I have to think about doing.

I use my body. I walk when I can. I walk fast. I use the manual door that's always right next to the automatic door. I turn opening the fridge and picking things up into brief, minute Tai Chi movements. I stretch.

I eat what is good, and feel good about the rest. I have trained my mind and body to relish the good things from the earth - properly raised meats, vegetables, juices, whole grains. I envision these things empowering my body and making it better every day, as if I were gaining health points in a video game.
I visualize that my coffee habit keeps things moving, streamlined. I look up the good ingredients in coffee. When I indulge in amazing desserts, java chip frappuccinos and burgers and shakes, I pick out the good things in them (milk, calcium, protein, pure, unadultured delicious Joy) and know that it's good for my body too.

I don't add the weight of guilt and punishment to the luxury of eating whatever I want.

I rest.

I play.

I laugh very loud.

I read.

I watch movies that inspire me, even if other people might think that they're childish, simple and naive. Sometimes I think that's the best way to live. What's the point of being saavy and worldly if you're angry and bitter?

I listen to all music and let it strum the chords of my soul.

I notice odd things that seem to point to a universe full of poetry and fun. When I'm at the cash register, sometimes a customer's total is a perfect palindrome, or all the same number, or a special date in history. I notice if three red cars drive by, or five people all wearing blue who don't know each other.

I stare at red stoplights reflecting on wet pavement.

I turn the other cheek. (most of the time)

I believe in an unlimited, unknowable, inward, omniscient, omnipresent, loving higher power.

I don't obsess over conspiracy. Maybe someone's out to get us... but they haven't found me yet. And I'm still pretty happy no matter what else is going on.

I give a penny.

I flirt with everyone. I try to be kind and open to every human being until they give me a reason not to.

I believe I am beautiful.

I am optimistic.

I am grateful.

Art: Some Watercolor

2011-01-27T08:31:00.000-05:00

And just to post... here's a painting I worked on yesterday. I'm pretty darn happy with it. Watercolor on Arches 140lb cold press. Used only two colors; French Ultramarine & Burnt Sienna. Sometimes the muse takes you for a ride!

The farthest Thunder that I heard
Was nearer than the Sky
And rumbles still, though torrid Noons
Have lain their missiles by --
The Lightning that preceded it
Struck no one but myself --
But I would not exchange the Bolt
For all the rest of Life --

~Emily Dickinson

Being Human: On Tolerance

2011-01-26T09:15:00.000-05:00

This isn't going to be the article you think it is. (I don't think, anyway). And since I'm Jess of All Trades I've decided things will fall under Categories in the title. Art. Writing. Being Human. Things like that. Fancy, eh? Today's article falls under... well, never mind. The title already said.

Since I'm on sabbatical from theatre and working retail, I'm in a unique position to really observe people being human. I'm from a small town in the mountains where the only diversity comes on planes for the skiing and hiking seasons. Now I'm in a military city in the South and I can tell you there's a difference. There's another article I'm going to write on retail later, but this one is about noticing my knee jerk reaction to different kinds of people.

There are a lot of different people here. (Thank you, mistress of the obvious). I don't just mean racially (yes, I'm going there). There are folks from all different parts of the country, the world, different classes and styles. As a "sales associate" I get to interact with and assist all these people. Sometimes it's immediately easier than other times.

Interestingly, race doesn't matter to my knee jerk reaction. (I'm relieved. Because you just don't know about yourself when you live in a town with zero diversity. I'm being brutally honest.) But I find I have a difficult time identifying with people of certain characteristics which I'll list below. (Note: This list is nullified the instant said person smiles or treats me with even a dollop of genuine friendliness and warmth).

People who...

Are exceptionally well dressed & groomed. In other words, people of a much higher class than myself. It puts me off. This is not the Hamptons. Who are they trying to impress?
Are not smiling. Come on. You're on a fun shopping day.
Won't look me in the eye.
Are exceptionally not well dressed and groomed. I mean, people who are shaggy, rumply, don't bathe. In other words, people who are of a much lower (economical) class than I.
Are exceptionally overweight or unhealthy. I'm not talking about people who are fit or husky or have some glimmer of health in their life and who care. Again, I'm being brutally honest. My knee jerk reaction is primal. This person is not healthy. I should stay away. Again, that reaction disappears the second that person smiles at me. It really does.
...Are exceptionally loud. I consider myself mild mannered (although my friends can pick out my laugh in a theatre full of patrons...)
Don't care. I mean, flannel PJs, dirty white t-shirts, sipping on your massive drink from Chik fil a, hair still wet from the shower.
Are of an exceptionally lower or higher education bracket.

All right. That's the negative reactions. The knee-jerk positive reactions go to people who are...

Generally cleaned and groomed but not overdressed.
Smiling.
Friendly.
Clearly having fun, and being nice to the people they are with.
Low maintenance and not stressing about their shopping trip.
Generally healthy.
Seem to have a general education and awareness of the world outside themselves.

So I have a good reaction to those kind of laid back, clean, smiling, down to earth-but-still-caring kind of people. ...

People, in other words, who I consider to be more or less just like me.

Food for thought.

Cheating

2010-10-07T07:56:00.000-04:00

And by cheating, I mean I'm not really posting my own article. Ha!

This was posted to my Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators email group, and it's worth a read for all you writers out there, if you haven't seen it already. Make sure you read all the way to the end. Fascinating stuff.

How Twilight and Other Dark Fiction Affects Teen Brains

...and for the rest, I promise I'll post something non-writerly soon.

On Multitasking

2010-10-03T09:33:00.000-04:00

At one point I decided it would be a good idea to move on from an old project to a new one. At first the shift was slow - I would continue to query the old project while I worked on the new one. Keep a lot of pots on the stove; stick a few more irons in the fire. Shoot a hundred arrows into the forest - surely one would stick!

But I have decided that I'm not a multitasker when it comes to passion. Not to say I can't. I don't like to say that I can't do anything. But when it comes to creative endeavor, I've finally determined that I prefer focused, precise action on a singular project. At least where writing is concerned. I can still paint and dabble in other areas - but a professional project slated, in my mind, for publication - requires the laser heat of all my excited passion and creative energy. It's difficult and counterproductive for me to jump between ships - even from a novel to a short story. When I do that, I am officially 'taking a break' from one project to favor the other.

I have to be obsessed. Physically, mentally, spiritually so obsessed and focused and bent on the future of a single project. I can do multiple aspects of a single project - the writing, the thinking, the planning, the market research - but thinking about another book? No. Not until the time comes - and it might - to let a project go.

I've come to terms with it.

How about you? Are you the kind of person who feels better with multiple projects, or do you prefer to focus on one?

Either way, happy creating!

~*~

Inspiration

2010-09-29T21:48:00.000-04:00

For the Sci-fi folks.

If this doesn't inspire you...

...nothing will!

Words Like Music

2010-09-28T09:47:00.001-04:00

In a recent (fantastic!) Writer's Digest article, the author instructed would-be bestsellers to "use mood like a scalpel."

Personally, I have to write with music. Nothing sets the tone of a scene or even a whole novel as much as the soundtrack that runs through my head. My ipod playlist is littered with bizarre names that are, in fact, the titles of my future books ( :D ). Or 'Writing I, II & III.' Even I underestimated the power of these carefully crafted playlist until recently, when I was listening to my most recent novel soundtrack. Big Sister, who is familiar with the novel, was also listening.

A particular Song from a particular Movie began to play and Sister looked up with a pained expression to ask "Does someone die...?"

I blinked and, as any saavy writer would have responded said, "You'll have to finish it to find out."

...okay, I didn't say that. I blinked and stammered, "Uh. Maybe. I don't know. I haven't decided."

Of course, someone does die. The song that played is one of mourning, and anyone who heard would know it was a song of mourning, no matter their culture or previous knowledge of the originaly movie soundtrack, story or anything else.

If you write in silence, consider music. If you write with music, consider silence - you don't know how powerfully the music might be changing your intent.

As for the words you choose, use them very consciously. A sweet, awesome and vivid description may not convey the mood you meant to.

The clouds scudded overhead like broken, crumbling tombstones.

...is very different from:

The clouds broke apart in the brightening sky like gray pearls washed on a pale shore.

Be aware of mood...and use words like music when you write.

Brief Update (no, really brief)

2010-09-25T17:25:00.000-04:00

All right! So they have asked that we not share what was presented at the conference (which makes sense, as so many people paid and the professionals are giving their time and energy)... so I won't be doing that. But I will say that just in the first couple of days, this experience has been worth it. Heck, the first day and critique would have been worth it... so I encourage artists and writers out there to continue (or start!) networking, making connections, and pursuing opportunities to continue to grow in their craft and their professional knowledge of their field.

That's the takeaway so far... a conference is always good to get fired up and stay inspired - and reach higher.

And now it's time to take a nap before social time...

Conference Time!

2010-09-24T08:01:00.002-04:00

Yes, I'm still alive! And I have been writing. Someday soon, this URL won't be a mere blog, but an actual website dedicated to the "professional" version of Yours Truly.

I slipped off from blog reading for a couple of weeks because, as useful and supportive as all the blogs are, at one point I just became saturated. I had all the information and ideas and daily scoops I could handle. I had to empty myself a little, settle, and get ready for more. Because this weekend is big.

I'm attending the SCBWI Carolinas 'Oh, The Places You Will Go,' writer's conference! I used to attend the local conference up in Montana every year, and I always came away refreshed, renewed, and buzzing with energy and motivation. This year I feel so much more focused, my writing is more streamlined, I have what might be shaping up to be a professional-level project well underway... and I'm ready.

If I don't post during the conference, I will certainly write after, offering some news and tips and anything else that inspires me after being surrounded by writing peers and generous professionals. I'm particularly excited to shake hands with Chris Richman from Upstart Crow, Literary. Their website is a great source of information (and entertainment!) for writers of all levels.

I hope all of you have a fantastic weekend too!

P.S... First piece of conference advice... don't get the idea, last minute, to print up business cards to hand out to new friends. Slapping together a design and trying to print it professionally (at home) will only stress you out... ;)

Ebb and Flow

2010-07-26T09:32:00.001-04:00

"Practice what you know, and it will help to make clear what now you do not know." ~Rembrandt

hey, I actually took this picture! Clouds from the plane.

When I say I want to take a break from blogging, suddenly all I want to do is blog. I say I want to blog, and I suddenly have nothing to say! So I'll just stop saying anything and go with the flow. I have scaled back and will most likely just jot down things now and then that I find useful, informative or inspiring. Most of my focus now is on the fiction writing. So here are some updates from my life that may or may not be useful, informative or inspiring for you!

Art: I'm painting again! With oils! I finally broke out a new canvas and mixed some medium and - boy oh boy, I forgot how much I love that smell. I realized that over the last couple of years I've been completely frozen on painting because I've taken the idea into my mind that everything I do must be for a Specific Purpose, or I'm wasting time.

For instance: A painting must be something I can sell. A painting must be made as a gift for someone. A painting must be scanned and made into a card. I must completely plan the painting before I even start.

On Sunday, I stopped all that, squirted some colory, oily goodness onto my palette and slapped out some beautiful peacock blue and green formless whorls onto a canvas...and felt fantastic.

For those who are curious, I'm also highly enjoying Work of Art: The Next Great Artist, on Bravo TV. It's one of the reasons I'm painting again, to be honest. It's been fascinating to watch the processes, how they're viewed by professional critics, fellow artist and gallery owners and, most interesting, how they grow (or don't) and interact with each other.

Writing:
Queries Sent: 13 (that includes the query tracker contest)
Rejections: 5
Partials: 2 (one rejected)

Yes, that's the same as last time. However, some news!

Contest (Writer's of Future) entered.
Short story... Accepted! One of my short stories will be published in the October issue of Lacuna. Hurrah!

And, working with my critique group has been challenging and useful. A question for writers... do you ever feel that you judge unpublished writers' work more critically than published? I'm concerned for my objectivity, and if I'm ever too hard on piece (I would never, ever insult a writer or be high and mighty and un tactful though, no fear...) How do all of you handle critiques? I love if I know something I've written needs a lot of work and people are willing to shred it fearlessly, but I don't want to discourage someone else. Advice?

Work: Goes on. Of course, I'd rather be financially independent and able to stay home all day and train the crazy dogs, but what're'you'gonna'do.

More on being a polite retail shopper: Don't poke your head inside a doorway marked 'Employees Only' when you're seeking assistance. I know this sounds cranky and unhelpful and unprofessional, but really, unless it's a medical or safety emergency, you can find an employee to help you who is not attempting to enjoy their all-too-short meal break .
Also, if the employees in the store where you're shopping all wear a defining piece of clothing say, a name tag or an apron or vest, and you see someone walk out of an Employees Only area who is not wearing this identifying piece of clothing... chances are they are clocked out, and have zero desire to help you.

My good friends will (hopefully) tell you that I'm generally helpful and willing to give unsolicited advice to anyone. But if I'm in a rush, or I'm not on the clock, or I have a very small window to eat my lunch, and you stop me and need fifteen minutes of my free, unpaid time to help with your project... I will probably not be especially warm.

I'm just being honest.

Life: And the kicker...we found out this last week that Sister will be deployed this November, through next August. We knew it was coming, but it still stung and it was a little sooner than I thought. So there's a test coming for all of us - Sister's second deployment (though she'll be in a much better, safer position than last time), and my first time living in a big house by myself.

There's a lot of emotional stuff that goes along with that, but I think that pretty much sums it up.

...there, I guess I had something to say today after all.

Back! Quickie Writer's Wednesday

2010-07-07T08:32:00.000-04:00

Hey gang!

So, between being just shocked that the first agent I queried didn't immediately scoop up my novel ;) and working on other projects, I've let my querying slip to the wayside. Inspired by the intrepid Aubrie and infused with new optimism after getting in on Querytracker's awesome "Everybody Wins" contest, I've started querying again.

I'm also working on a completely different story that I'm really thrilled about. It has good bones, as my sister said, and I'm working on revisions right now. But I'm going to continue querying the first novel until I've reached at least a hundred rejections, or revisions on this new project are complete. Whichever comes first.

After reading other author's querying stats, I realized that I have actually done very little querying. So I researched and got back up on that horse, and here's where I stand now:

Queries Sent: 11 (that includes the Contest)
Rejections: 5
Partials: 2 (one rejected)

That's right. Only ten queries. It felt like a lot more at the time. Harder working authors are shaking their heads in amusement, I'm sure. For awhile I got hung up because I hadn't actually written a synopsis, which some agents would like to see, believe it or not ;) I finally wrote one, and yes, it was painful.

So what are you doing toward your goals today?

Away From Keys

2010-06-24T06:29:00.000-04:00

...because I'm traveling home to be in dear friend's wedding!

...So it's unlikely I'll post. Have a great weekend, all!

Semi Review: Harry Potter

2010-06-22T07:44:00.003-04:00

Yes, the whole thing.

Okay, not really the whole thing.

This isn't so much a review as a listing of some of the things that make these books so darn popular with kids. And adults. And pretty much everyone in between. Or at least, what I think makes them popular. I know the books have been reviewed and analyzed and discussed before, so this is mostly for my own purposes. I also know that Rowling probably didn't sit down and figure out that Magic Formula for her books...that she had a great idea and characters and expanded on it like the rest of us. But we, armed with the vision of her success, can figure out what worked.

Harry is young, and comes of age during the course of the book.
He escapes an awful home life to go where he is special, (mostly) welcomed, challenged, and has amazing adventures in which he and his friends save everyone.
It comes down to the kids; for various reasons in each book, Harry and friends - not the teachers - are the ones who have to save the day.
There is Wonder.
There is Humor.
There is Mystery. Rowling is a big fan of mystery writing, and she weaves it expertly into her books in classic mystery style. Questions, red herrings, suspects and clues abound.
She created a special, exclusive community (that is now global). People can identify themselves with the different Hogwarts houses, they decide what sort of magic they would study, and so on.
It's our world - sort of. So for a child, there's that slim, slim, magical possibility that just maybe, it might be real.
Harry has mundane problems as well as Big Epic Problems. The Chamber of Secrets might be opened, but gosh darnit, you are going to finish your exams.
Core values are shown, not preached. And by Core Values I mean honesty, courage, loyalty, trust, friendship, wisdom and forgiveness.
The books show that death is, in fact, horrible and difficult. Killing is not taken lightly. We have tended to gloss over slaughtering armies of ghouls or off'ing the bad guys without a second thought. But to these children and those around them, the horror remains. And it should.
The bad characters can make you really mad. Even though it's made up and the Dursley's treatment of Harry is over the top, you buy it because of the way it's written. And the injustice of it makes you root for Harry - as well as be impressed that he turns out the way he does.
There is Evil on an epic scale, betrayal, darkness and loss.
There is also great, enduring Good.
There's magical flying monsters.
There's sports.
And she made wearing glasses cool again.

I think that's about it. These ideas are not new. But Rowling blended them together so well and with such graceful transparency that I guarantee you these books will stand the test and remain a classic of children's literature.

So, everyone else, get to work on your Coming-of-age-through-the-rabbit-hole-funny-mysterious-magical-honor-oriented-adventure-with-heart-that-makes-you-laugh-out-loud-and-has-potential-for-kitschy-merchandising-and-movie-options.

No problem. Right...?

To me, this trailer is like the moment in Star Wars III when they raise Vader up in his suit for the first time.
Epic.
Shivers.

If, through my writing, I can ever make one person feel the way I feel reading these books and watching these movies...well, it would make my day ;)

*~*~*

Photo Friday: From the Garden

2010-06-18T07:59:00.000-04:00

I haven't posted a photo in awhile. These flowers are gone now - thank you, sweltering North Carolina heat and humidity. But I tried to capture this little moment of morning brightness.

It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

~From William Blake's Auguries of Innocence

...And delicious tomatoes.

I hope everyone has a fantastic Friday.

***

I Totally Called It...And Other Randomness

2010-06-17T18:30:00.005-04:00

It's my day off, so I have no cohesive thoughts. Although I did get some productive drawing done at Barnes and Noble and had fun watching the parade go by. Let the randomness ensue:

Art Randomness:

I've finally sat down to watch Work of Art on Bravo, and I love it. I also totally called it. My co-workers said, "You can't judge art." I said, sure you can. In fact, I took a whole post to say it. When they eliminate people, this is the quote the show uses: "It has been said of art that it doesn't matter how it looks, but how it makes us feel. Your work didn't make us feel anything."

The show rocks my Prismacoloran pants off. I love to see the process and the different attitudes. I also like the Restless Squirrel part of me (Squirrel stolen from the fabulous Big Daddy) that says, "Aw, man...I could totally rock that challenge...)
Anyway.

"What do you know about Art?" the new people may ask. Here's some of my art. Combined with some of my writing. Hey, hey, it's a party! Actually, while we're at it, here's a whole Elfwood site filled with my stuff, most of it fairly old. If you are super bored, and you don't want to read the read of this entry.

Human Being Randomness:

My day job is currently in retail. I think everyone should have to work in retail and/or food service in order to become a properly empathetic human being. I'm sorry to say that Customer is Not Always Right. This will make me sound cranky. Well. Sometimes I am. Here are some tips on being a courteous Retail Shopper:

1.Don't Tie Up the Register
Please make your purchase decisions before you reach the counter. Not at the counter, with a line of people behind you. Don't ask your shopping partner for their opinion and debate endlessly before you buy something. You have the rest of the store in which to shop. The checkout is for checking out.

2. Don't Argue with me, the Manager, or in general, end up being Obnoxious and Cheap
We're all adults. We can behave with civility and grace. I thought.
Don't argue about the price of an item that is under $10. If you looked at yourself doing this, you would think you were cheap and obnoxious. If I assure you an item is not part of a Sale, or is, indeed, the marked price, and then we summon a manager who tells you the same thing, the discussion should be over. You don't have to buy the item if you don't like the price.
If you are shopping in the store in which I happen to work, I know your life is going okay, because we carry nothing essential. Your survival doesn't depend on anything you buy in my store, unless the only thing standing between you and instant starvation is that bag of Peanut M&Ms at the register. Don't argue. Buy it, or don't. Don't make a two dollar price difference the hill you die on.

3. I Don't Work On Commission
I am completely happy to help you plan, prepare for and discuss your craft project. Customer service is my forte. If, however, we diverge from the realm of shopping into (somewhat uncomfortable) areas like your personal life, your health problems, or the rude teller at your bank, then our interaction must come to an end. Customer service is key - yes! But I am not your friend or your shopping buddy. If I can no longer assist you with your shopping adventure, I really do have other things I need to do.

4. Personal Hygiene
Please try to be aware if you think you might smell strongly of cat urine, and take appropriate measures before beginning your shopping day. I understand health problems - but, again, if you are shopping in a luxury store (i.e., not buying Clothing or Groceries) I assume you have running water, soap, and the means to employ them.

5. Public Restrooms
Ladies...wipe off the seat. Srsly. Even if your kid did it. Especially if your kid did it. Come on.

6. Little Ones
Parents...control your children. I can't even imagine the frustration and the pain and the joy of raising children yet, and I know it must be exhausting. I really do. And I love children and seeing familes in the store and helping with school projects. But if you see your child drop something on the floor and you say, "Oh, just leave it. They have people here to pick that up," it's kind of infuriating. Something tells me your child probably doesn't clean their own room, either.

7. Are You Going to Buy It Now that You've Ruined it?
Don't open the boxes that are sealed with plastic until it belongs to you. I promise that the items pictured on the outside of the sealed package are exactly what you will find inside. Crazy, I know. You don't need to open the package. Look at the picture. Look. At. The Picture. If you have questions about the contents, I would be more than happy to assist you.

I know that was ranty, and I really do love my job - I do! Kind, fun, interesting people come in everyday. So do the above types of people. Try not to be one...karma's a fiesty wench.

Whew. That was refreshing!

Writing/Reading Randomness:

As you may have noticed by my sidebar, I'm reading the entire Harry Potter again series from top to bottom. I forgot how good they are. I wanted to brush up before Part I of the Final Movie arrives, and also see what the heck worked so well in these books. I know how the books end and I still stay up past my bedtime to read the final two chapters.

Food for thought.

More on Being Human: If you can judge a person by how they act while walking a frustrating dog...then I actually have quite a bit more evolving to do than I thought.

And as a reward for making it through that... I offer this video. 'Cause this is how I Actually feel most of the time.

Universality

2010-06-16T07:05:00.000-04:00

Writer's Wednesday! Although really, I'm just going to tell you about a little epiphany that I enjoyed yesterday. In fact, every time I ran it through my head it made me excited. It might not make you excited - until you apply it toward something that is relevant to you.

My parents have a great book called, 'The Little Zen Companion," (and if you're anything like me, you're now imagining a miniature, wise little monk perched on your shoulder), with snippets, quotes, haiku and so on. A typical "bathroom book." There is one quote that has struck me in it which reads: "If you understand one thing completely, then you understand everything."

Rational, querulous, contrary minds will say that isn't possible. People who are given to saying things like "Actually..." after a joke is told, will find issue with that statement. How, they scoff, could understanding microbiology help you understand art?

I would point to the Golden Ratio.

I'm speaking of Principles, not Facts. I'm speaking of Understanding and Process - not information.

There are things in this world that I understand. I understand Tai Chi, writing, art, occasionally Tao, and the creative process. I forget that it's applicable to other things. It seems silly that I would forget that the writing process - the techniques, patience, skills and inspirations I use in my writing could be useful elsewhere. It seems really silly that I wouldn't think to apply those to another creative process.

I've had an idea for a graphic story (as in, told through illustration, not "graphic" the way movie ratings use it) for some time. I've given up hope on working on it, because it's just too mammoth. I can't get the work done. I don't have time. It takes too long. Yet I'll tackle a novel without blinking. In that arena, I've accepted that I won't finish a book in one day; that it will, in fact, take months to achieve that goal.

So why the pressure on my artwork to excel in zero time? I don't honestly know. Impatience, hopelessness, and plain laziness. I want it now. I want to have done it, as I wrote in my last post. This is a personal project for which I wouldn't seek publication, so there is no real deadline. It doesn't even really matter if I do it... so it becomes really easy for me not to do. I think to myself Well, if I can't get it done fast and perfectly, then I'm not going to do it at all.

My epiphany was this: It occurred to me yesterday that if I complete One Page per week, starting this week, then I will just about have a thirty page graphic novel by the end of December. It seems like simple logic, but it just didn't transfer from one area to the next. At first I balked - wow, that seems like a long time!

But then I thought, y'know ... having a thirty page graphic novel in my hands at the end of December is a lot better than never having it at all.

At last a review: The Nine Pound Hammer

2010-06-15T07:07:00.001-04:00

I had the recent good fortune to meet a real live author! I know, it's probably not as difficult or as rare as it sounds. Still, as I immerse myself in the professional world, I begin to think of Published Authors more as flesh and blood beings who reached an attainable goal rather than Beings on High who are sort of separate from the rest of the reading world.

Author John Claude Bemis led a discussion and wildly fun workshop on creativity down here in North Carolina and I picked up a copy of his new book, The Nine Pound Hammer, a middle grade semi-steam punk fantasy.

Twelve-year-old Ray is haunted by the strangest memories of his father, whom Ray swears could speak to animals. Now an orphan, Ray jumps from a train going through the American South and falls in with a medicine show train and its stable of sideshow performers. The performers turn out to be heroes, defenders of the wild, including the son of John Henry. They are hiding the last of the mythical Swamp Sirens from an ancient evil known as the Gog. Why the Gog wants the Siren, they can’t be sure, but they know it has something to do with rebuilding a monstrous machine that John Henry gave his life destroying years before, a machine that will allow the Gog to control the will of men and spread darkness throughout the world.

Things I Loved:

The Concept! Oh my gosh, especially after hearing John speak about his love for the South and our very own American folkloric tradition. When we think of the "mythic age" of America, what is it? Steam trains, cowboys, the wild, wild west. He delves into the southern tradition and simply asks, "What if the stories were real?"
The idea of 'Ramblers' - the heroes of our folktales; John Henry, Li'l Bill and so on. That they had 'real powers' and worked as a force of good.
The idea that we must have wild places for magic to flourish. A Rambler's powers stem from the wild, from the earth and the natural mystery in it. Growing up with acres and acres of free land to run on and armed with sticks and my imagination, this idea touched me deeply.
The colorful cast. Orphan Ray joins up with a traveling medicine show, and the young performers all have special talents and powers all their own. It was a wonderful hook to keep going, to see how they could use their powers when it really mattered.
The action scenes. Beautifully written -that's all I can say.
The Pirates! How could anyone not love a rag-tag band of swamp-faring pirates?
The way Ray and the other children begin to inherit their legacy. I'm always a sucker for the coming of age...the 'ol, "I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my Father," moment. This was packed with that.
Again, the magic. The different ways it manifests, the way it was rooted in Man himself and his connection to the natural world.
The rhythm of the deep Southern speakers in the book. I've included a snippet for your enjoyment below. If you don't get shivers, have some coffee and read it again.

Things I Did Not Love:

Because it's for middle grade, the pace is tight and snappy, (though the world feels fully formed) and I actually wouldn't have minded a little more lingering in descriptions of the swaps, the cypress trees and forests.
It's the first in a trilogy, and though the main problem of Book One is solved by the end, I can't stand reading the first in a trilogy and having to wait for the next one out.

This book is so fresh, so different, I have a hard time pinning down everything I loved Pick it up. It was a very cool, different and fun read. I think he's laying the groundwork for something amazing. Whether you're an adult or a child, if old stories light you up inside, if you come alive when you're outdoors and you love to Believe, then this book is for you.

***

"What's the Gog want?" Ray asked at last.
"What all the wicked want," Mother Salagi grunted. "To rule. To steal the destiny right away from men. To possess what never should be possessed. When I come down from the Clingman's Dome, ye know what I seen in my travels?"
"No," Ray replied.
"Roads, train tracks, and them poles strung up with wire."
"Telegraphs," Ray said.
"Mother Salagi snorted. "Aye. Ye seen them. To some, they's bridges. They's a-making the world connected. Progress they says. But they's walls, lad. They's nothing but walls. It's a grid that we all going to get shackled to. That's what the Gog wants. That's how the Gog's going to rule.
But for a person to grow to greatness, they need vast spaces. Wide openness. It's there the heart and the mind and the spirit can expand to greatness, not a-shackled to the Gog's grid. Aye, the precept of a Rambler. Ye see?"
"I think so," Ray answered, not at all certain.

* * *

Making Excuses

2010-06-14T09:21:00.001-04:00

No, the title doesn't actually refer to my rather sudden and unexplained absence. (I have no excuse for that, just laziness).

I am, as are we all, in a constant battle against lack of motivation, disappointment, frustration and impatience. I can see my goals. I can see where I want to be in five years, and it's a very different place than where I am right now. It's a fantastic, active, wildly accomplished and proud place that I want to be in five years.

But every day it's a struggle to sit down and put in the time. Even five minutes. Five. Minutes. Why is that?

I think I hit on it when I re-read a quote in one of the latest Writer's Digests. Paraphrasing, it says, "Many people want to have been writers. They don't want to actually go through the process of writing a book, working to get it published, struggle with plot and character and so on. They just want to have done it."

I know that tends to be an issue with me. I think it is with many people. That's why there are actually so very few super stars. Despite the beautiful motivational posters and images and reminders, we don't want the journey. We want the destination. Well I have reminded myself this weekend that the destination, in fact, will only be another pit stop on the journey. So I need to get going, or I will find that I've been sitting at the same rest stop for ten years. So to speak.

It doesn't stop with getting fit and healthy. It's a process.

It doesn't stop with getting published.

It doesn't stop with drawing like this guy, or that guy.

It doesn't stop with speaking a new language, or making it to the destination country.

It doesn't stop with finding the The One, getting married, and making a family.

It doesn't stop with learning how to live in grace and be the human you want to be. It's an unending process.

I haven't drawn in weeks because I was frustrated that I couldn't draw the way I want to. I couldn't draw like Jim Lee, or Amano, or any of my other role models. And no wonder. I wasn't putting in the time. I expected to slap out a brilliant drawing in five minutes when even the masters take ten minutes to do a "rough sketch."

So this weekend, when I was given the most precious gift of Time, I picked up my pens again. I picked up my guitar. I sat down with my book of Italian grammar.

So I guess my message today is Don't become someone who wants to have done something. If you must look at the people who are where you would like to be someday, look into their biographies. See what they were doing when they are where you are now. They were probably practicing. Nobody starts at the top.

Nobody starts at the top.

Go do it. And remember that the people who are already masters have been doing it every single day for the last decades of their lives. The only failure, the only failure, is to give up.

Here, Rick DiBiaso has some more to say on this kind of thing.

And, even though it's a shoe commercial...

To Remember

2010-05-31T19:54:00.002-04:00

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.
Fading light, dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.
Thanks and praise, for our days,
'Neath the sun, 'neath the stars, neath the sky;
As we go, this we know, God is nigh.
Sun has set, shadows come,
Time has fled, Scouts must go to their beds
Always true to the promise that they made.
While the light fades from sight,
And the stars gleaming rays softly send,
To thy hands we our souls, Lord, commend.

~*~

Writing again soon...

Multiple Personality Disorder

2010-05-25T21:53:00.001-04:00

"Have you read those Harry Potter books? I don't know how that woman thinks up all those things. I think she must be insane." ~Lona Lee Evans (Rest in Peace, Grandma)

Welcome to Writer's Wednesday!

Do you like things your characters like? Do you develop interests and hobbies based on things your characters do? Over the course of my life, I have developed a number of interests and things I like - all because they were something my characters could do or a thing they enjoyed. Mind you, these range from characters in my middle-grade novels to role-play characters to my adult sci-fi mercenaries-who-will-never-to-see-the-light-of-day comic art guys.

Here's a sampling of a few of the things I have developed a taste for and, for the life of me, I don't remember who liked it first - the real me, or the characters in my head. Either way, we're stuck together now:

Harps
Stone Sculpture
Bars
Basketball
Hungarian violin music
Harley Davidsons
Classic cars
Electric guitars
Jazz
Blues
Interior decorating
Bronze sculpture
Swordfighting
Heraldry
Falconry
Botany
Cartography
Sailing
Herbology
Weapons of modern warfare
Crossbows
Clothing (Anything a character would like will turn my head. Man, woman, child...present day or medieval fantasy. Even a fantasy character will wake up at the sight of something he or she would wear when I'm walking through Sears).
Runes
Holding cigarettes European style. (I don't smoke. I never will. But I notice when people hold their cigarettes overhand).
Sewing
Dancing
Martial arts
Politics

I suppose you could say that those are probably things I had a latent interest in, and it's coming out through my characters. And, of course you have to research something that your character might do or know. What'ev. I'm easy. I'll agree that it's probably all true.

...yet it's very strange how a character will get comfortable in your head, actually take up space in your personality and pop up at the oddest times to say "WOW! Look at the awesome restore on that '70 Charger! Catch up!" And another character says, "That's the stupidest thing I've ever seen. Who cares?" While I'm wondering if I got the year right, another character will be the thinking the song lyrics on the radio are just like her life, I'll see someone walking down the street who gives me an idea for a plot point...

...then slam the brakes when I notice a red light and realize it just might be more dangerous to be a writer-while-driving than it is to talk on a cell phone.

***

What do your characters like that you've discovered you like, too?

Too Many Minds

2010-05-24T09:04:00.000-04:00

Nobutada: Please forgive, too many mind.
Nathan Algren: Too many mind?
Nobutada: Hai. Mind the sword, mind the people watch, mind the enemy, too many mind... [pause] No mind.

~From The Last Samurai

I once read a wonderful book called Inner Skiing. It discussed the idea of Self 1 and Self 2. Self 1 is the part of us that just goes without thinking, that is in tune, in the zone, all the time. When you're in the zone you can ski a perfect run, play a perfect game, run for miles, paint for hours without realizing the time. You can write and it seems as if you're watching a movie and all you have to do is write down what's happening.

Self 2 is the one that says, Now, bend your knees! Straighten your back. That's a silly color choice, nobody likes orange. Go for nice, safe blue. And use a bigger brush. Your character wouldn't say that. This book is silly, and you're ripping off Famous Author. You will never be as popular as Twilight and you couldn't write that commercial if you tried and you're not good enough to write a Classic. Anyway, you can't make money writing Middle Grade.

Self 2 can be surprisingly clever, though. It will sneak in with phrases like, Don't think. You're thinking too much. Stop it. You're not very good at getting In the Zone. You should be ashamed. Why are you worried about making money? You should just write what you love. You're crippling yourself.

Another name for this voice is compliments of Natalie Goldberg and her Zen masters; they call it monkey mind. It's a perfect description. Monkey mind is the editor, the procrastinator, the critic, the distracted, loony, rather-wash-dishes-or-take-the-dog-for-a-walk-than-write-another-word mind.

I've determined that there are three forces at work in my head:

Monkey Mind: This one is mostly under control. Mostly. Although sometimes I find myself sweeping and cleaning the kitchen and then discovering that my laundry is unfinished, I need to sort the mail, in which I discover a postcard from a friend - so I write a note to her, go on the hunt for stamps and see that the office really needs to be vaccuumed...and so on...

...and then it's six o'clock at night, and I've gotten a lot done but absolutely nothing that I meant to do.

Dog Mind: Accomplishes goals through bribery. Hey pretty! Hey! Hey! If we get the floor swept, then you can make an iced coffee treat! If you go upstairs and work on that painting, then, hey! We could go to Barnes and Noble. Or if you're reeeeally good and sort your bills, maybe, just maybe, you can bake a batch of cookies and eat As Much Dough As you Want!

Dog mind is the physical part of my mortal brain that is motivated by reward. It chemically links certain actions to reward. Just like a dog, or the tic-tac-toe chicken at the fair. It's easy to train, but it does lock you into a system of expectation. I get up in the morning, every single morning, to write. Seventy-five percent of the reason I do that is so that I can have the pleasure of grinding my beans, making a fresh pot of coffee, and savoring it while I plunge into unknown worlds, spurred by the first caffeine rush of the day.

Human Mind: Attempts to run itself on pure enlightenment and discipline. We are the only creatures on the planet (except for dolphins, I really believe) capable of abstract thoughts. Thoughts like what our future will look like in five years, and how much control we have over it. Human Mind is capable of doing a task out of pure discipline, with no reward. Virtue is its own reward and all that.

I'm okay with not being perfectly there yet. I'm pretty sure I would write even if I didn't get coffee every morning. But the beauty of my life is - I don't have to. It is okay to do something and be rewarded - whether it's with a treat, a better lifestyle, a vacation. What'ev. I just try to keep the balance between Dog Mind and Human Mind so that some things are a pleasure to do, without any reward at all.

But when Monkey Mind Starts chastising me for not using disciplined Human Mind and Dog Mind wants to make it all better by taking a break, having some cookies, and trying again later, I know then that there are just Too Many Minds, and none of us are getting anything done.

So I try, for a little while, to have No Mind.

...and I'll still make my morning coffee. I loooove coffee.

"Do. Or do not. There is no try."

~Yoda. (That's right. Because no one's more Zen than a Jedi Knight.)

Photos: Bluebirds of Happiness!

2010-05-21T21:56:00.000-04:00

As some of you know, earlier this spring, Sister and I noticed bluebirds traveling through the yard. One would stop by every other week or so, and so we decided to put up a bluebird house. We put precise effort and care into placement and such, and I'm happy to report that our efforts paid off.

The original bluebird, a male that I named Morris, brought home a lady friend one day. And she stayed.

And now, I'm happy to introduce the newest addition to the family.

Betty keeps an eye on me while I take pictures.

At first I mistook him for Morris. But no!

It's a BABY!

This is my favorite picture of him. There's a second baby, but that one wouldn't sit still long enough for a good picture. (I'm actually not sure of the gender of either).

But there you are. A little miracle of happiness in the suburbs of North Carolina.

***

Photo Friday: Slightly Rescheduled

2010-05-21T07:56:00.000-04:00

I want to get back into the swing of the Schedule. Due to unfortunate events yesterday, we got home later than planned, so I didn't have time to get my ducks (photos, that is) all in a row, ready to post.

I plan to have them up for Saturday. And they will be exciting! Exciting and fun and sweet! ...exciting to me, anyway. If you're curious about the subject matter, let's just say it has a little something to do with Morris and Betty.

Until then, I humbly offer this photo of Jack, Sister's newly adopted Greyhound:

He's curious what you're up to.

***

A Tablespoon of Tao

2010-05-20T08:25:00.000-04:00

It's going to be one of those posts.

I was going to write about Theatre, but I was inspired to share this thought.Watching the styles of the different managers in the store where I work and how effective (or not) each one is got me thinking about the way I stage managed a summer stock company, a tour, a show. In brief language, some would call it a 'light touch.'

Sometimes I would sway too far into the feminine principle (yielding) and not act when I needed to, or act too late, or ignore my instincts to act or speak in some way when needed (never ignore your instincts, by the way. Never. Better to feel silly for having been wrong and overcautious than to be punished or regret it in some larger way later.)

What I'm trying to say, gracelessly, is this:

The wise leader, learning how things happen, lives accordingly.
The average leader also learns how things happen, but vacillates, now acting accordingly and then forgetting.
The worst leaders learn how things happen and dismiss the single principle as total nonsense. How else could their work be so futile?
After all, they say, any principle that does now get you love or money or power must be useless. A silent mind is a dumb mind. Selflessness is no way to get ahead. Virtue is for fools. Kindness is weakness. And so on.

This is the problem: because the wise leader's only allegiance is to how things happen, people who do not see how things happen naturally think that the wise leader's behavior has no basis in reality. Also, the leader's silence and manner of being are disturbing. Because the leader's motives are obscure, the leader is hard to figure out.
The problem comes back to the fact that the principle is not a thing and cannot be defined. That does not make sense to some people.

It is not easy to understand a person whose foundation is invisible.

~From The Tao of Leadership

***

Writing: A Way of Life

2010-05-18T21:17:00.004-04:00

Welcome to Writer's Wednesday!

I've been under the mistaken impression for the last few months that publication will fulfill me. I'm finally letting the other bloggers' words sink into my head. Publication is only a step. Getting an agent, getting a publisher, holding the book in your hand (after years of waiting, editing, marketing) is not the end. It's only a step. As an artist I understand it. I look at drawings and say, "I want to draw like that." Then one day, I realize I'm there. So then I look higher and say "I want to draw as well as he does." Then, with more work, I'm there - and I must set a new goal. There is no such thing as a "perfect" artist (anymore than there is such a thing as a "perfect sky"). Someone who can flawlessly portray the image they want is certainly a Master, but there are always new directions in which to grow and explore.

I feel similarly about enlightenment - and writing.

Even becoming professional won't quiet the voice inside. I write because I noticed something beautiful, and I want others to see. I write because I had a 'what if' question, and I want others to think. I write because I'm in love with the characters in my story. I write because in no other way (except for very expensive Halloweens!) can I become a dragon, a prince, a sorcerer, a hound, a thunderstorm, a blade of grass.

When I write, I am all those things. All of them are coming from me. That's the fulfillment, in the end. Publication will be nice. But it's also peaceful to have come to terms with realization that, no matter what, I'll write.

***

Hemingway writes in "Green Hills of Africa" about young American men who went to Paris for two years to try out being artists. If they weren't successful, they planned to go home and work in their fathers' businesses. Hemingway said that that is the wrong attitude, that you have to be willing to give it as long as it takes.

You have to let writing eat your life and follow it where it takes you. You fit into it; it doesn't fit neatly into your life. It makes you wild. [My friend] said that she would put Raphael, her first son, to bed at about nine and then write until midnight or one. (She also had a poet-in-the-schools job during the day.) She said to the outside world she looked normal -- changing diapers, making food -- but inside she was wild. How could she work all day, have a baby and write? She wanted it bad; that's finally what moves you, not how it will conveniently fit in with the rest of your life.

Let yourself burn, let yourself want something bad. It's a life force.

~From Natalie Goldberg's Wild Mind: Living the Writer's Life

***

Reviewless Tuesday

2010-05-17T22:09:00.001-04:00

It was an odd Monday. All turned out in the end (as it tends to do), but, as you may have guessed, I did not prepare a review for Tuesday. Today.

Instead, I humbly offer you these peaceful Haiku.

Day is dawning;
The voices of wild ducks
Are surrounding the castle.
~Kyoroku

The Great Morning:
Winds of long ago
Blow through the pine tree.
~Onitsura

A red morning sky
For you, snail;
Are you glad about it?
~Issa

The Next Great Work of Art

2010-05-15T09:52:00.002-04:00

Well, Pop Culture has found us. And by Us, I mean the Artists. After years of Top Chefs, Top Models, Survivors, Amazing Racers and other such competitions, Bravo TV is now introducting...

The Next Great Artist

I'm excited about this kind of show. I think it will shed some light on a group of individuals who, as a whole, don't get a lot of attention unless they do something extremely Great, or something extremely Bad. Either way, there is a whole culture of artists in between that are on a journey to find their voice and what they have to say. I think a competition like this, even though I'm sure it will be stuffed full of manufactured drama, will be a chance for such artists to shine, and to find more of themselves through challenge.

I was interested in my co-workers' reactions to mention of the series.

"You can't have a competition like that. Art is too subjective."

"Who's to say what's good? I think it's a bad idea."

"It's not possible to judge art."

"How can they really know who's right?"

"That's impossible."

I heartily disagree. Isn't it also, when you come down to it, impossible to judge beauty? Cooking? Design sense?

I'm in the 'no' camp. Yes, there are decisions to be made based on personal preference and experience. But there are also standards, guidelines, and expectations put forth in a competition like this. Having gone into an artistic profession and taken design and acting classes, I can certainly tell you that there are ways to judge artistic expression. People have passed or failed studio classes, design classes and critics' standards based on such judgments.

Is the artist saying something?

Is the artist original?

Is the artist pushing themselves out of their comfort zones?

Is the artist pushing others outside of their comfort zones?

Most importantly, is the artist making anyone feel something?

It isn't about whether you prefer red or blue. It isn't about whether or not the artist should have chosen red or blue.

It's about why.

I, for one, am very excited to see how this goes down. Who's with me?

Mission Statement

2010-05-14T09:07:00.002-04:00

Sticking Point: The point at which a process or thing, especially a state of mind or emotion, reaches its greatest strength and remains steadfast; sticking point.

"We fail?
But screw your courage to the sticking place,
And we'll not fail."
~[Scottish Play] Act 1, scene 7, 59–61

The sticking place is actually in reference (most will agree) to the function of the large, medieval style crossbow. You literally had to screw the bow to its sticking place, where it caught, before you could release the bolt.

I went through a day of malaise yesterday. It started off well, and then I lost motivation. Procrastination, laziness, call it what you will; it's good to rest - but it's bad to regret time spent, and time lost. My walks with the new dog every morning are a saving grace. Walking gets me up, out, and off the internet. It also gets good juices (literally) flowing through my veins.

It gets me thinking. As a writer, words are my tools. As a theatre professional, words easily inspire me. As an artist, I need direction. So I rolled some Power Words around in my head today, and realized that I really need a mission statement for my life. I have these Ideas, and very few of them go anywhere. (The writing is a single exception. But there are so many things I want to do). So today, I used my most powerful tools: my words - and I created a mission statement for myself. I have italicized my power words for your convenience.

~*~

I will live a life of passion and purpose. I will pursue my goals with discipline, energy and precision.
In my dealings with others I will show integrity, respect and patience - with them, and myself. I will keep my word. I will act with dignity (if not always sobriety ;)
I will blend the variant elements of my life with harmony and grace and joy. I will do nothing that conflicts with my personal spirituality or honor.
In end, I will have lived a life that others, and myself, can look at and say, There walked a true woman of passion and grace.

~*~

Of course that's a mouthful to say to yourself as a mantra. When in doubt, I let the keywords roll through my mind. The most useful ones right now are discipline and precision. I believe it will just take re-envisioning, every single morning, the woman I want to be.

And if all else fails, I will use cheap tricks as motivators. For instance, when I get stumped while studying Italian and think about giving it up, I shall study this photograph carefully:

...and recall how very much I would like to speak his language.

Hey. Whatever works. Right? RIGHT? What's your mission statement?

Theatre: The Original 3-D Experience

2010-05-13T08:14:00.000-04:00

I think the title says it all. If it isn't yet obvious that I didn't prepare something to write this morning, well - I didn't prepare something to write this morning. But since both Theatre and Thursday start with a 'th' I figured that was good.

I realize that because I have another (retired) blog, I neglected theatre in my 'Jess of All Trades' writing, but it is an essential part of who I am. When I started college (at sixteen) I was convinced I wanted to be an actress. I even took a 'Career Awareness' class - which is a good thing for a sixteen year old in college to do. It was all about figuring out who you are, determining your strengths, taking personality tests and researching job fields. Pretty fun. I still have an essay that I wrote about 'my ideal job.'

You had to describe ideal job conditions without naming a career. I read it now and chuckle, because I wrote it with Actress in mind - but it worked the same for Stage Manager. Funny how that happens. I may post the essay later if, once again, I run out of things to write.

Anyway, as an on-sabbatical theatre professional, I want to encourage people to experience the theatre. If you think you don't like the theatre, you just haven't found a show that appeals to you. Musical theatre gets poked fun at often, but it is one of the most genuine, passionate, fun, sometimes even life-changing experiences a person can have. Even bad theatre can be fun. At least it's an experience. Dramatic theatre might very well change your life. Touring the country with To Kill a Mockingbird last year, of all years, was one of the coolest experiences of my life so far. And what a trip for kids to see this story, side by side with the story of Barack Obama - no matter how you feel politically. That's Big Medicine, so to speak.

Theatre has special effects, and they're cooler because they're live. Theatre has fear, drama, passion - and it's cooler because it's live. Get out of the house for a night, take the kids, take the Significant Other or your sister or your friend, and go watch real people sweat for two hours.

It's quite a thing.

Think about the people who designed the set they're standing on (someone did); the person who determined exactly where each light would hang (they don't just throw them up there); the person who placed a prop in just that certain spot to make a statement about the character's household, the time period, the story. This is a lot of creative fire concentrated into two hours, whether it's a ridiculous farce or a gut-wrenching drama.

If you already know and love theatre, I encourage you to drag your friends. Instead of buying a lot of birthday gifts and things and Christmas and anniversery and stuff, give the loved ones in your life an experience. We don't need more things. We need more things to talk about and bring us together.

I love the Alpine Theatre Project's new slogan: You can't download this.

That's all! In later 'articles' I'll write more about Behind the Scenes Stuff, but today I just wanted to soapbox a little.

If you want some more theatre stories now now now! ...check out my old blog. Here are some fun entries from the Lost in Yonkers tour.

This gorgeousness taken by my friend over at One Frame at a Time.

Writer's Wednesday: Casting Call

2010-05-11T21:50:00.004-04:00

(Hey, hey you! With the face and coffee! Later today I'll be appearing as a Guest Blogger on my dear friend Kate's blog! Check it out :D )

"When I was a Hollywood press agent, I learned how the Hollywood casting system worked. There was a roster of actors who were always perfect as doctors or lawyers or laborers, and the directors just picked the types they needed and stuffed them into film after film. I do the same [with my characters], book after book." ~ Richard Condon

I love this quote (I also love Writer's Digest!) Writers, do you do this? I think it blends into the idea of having archetypes from which to pull, though we must always be wary of stereotypes. Although it also bugs me when fiction gets so PC that the writer is obviously bending so far backwards to create a character that goes against type that, instead of thinking, Wow, what a neat, original person! I end up thinking, Well, they just took Stereotype A and added Ingredient F. There's a big difference.

How do you do it? How do you layer up a character so they are a living, breathing being on the page (or the screen, or the stage?) and not a collection of quirks? There's a big difference between going against a stereotype and creating a raw, cool, sassy, breathing, name-taking character in a novel.

Do you have a Casting Room in your brain, where characters hang out? I have a number of folks who get recycled into every story, incarnated with different faces and different names, but many of the same qualities and motivations.

After years of Free Form Role Play, I not only developed a serious internet addiction (of which I'm mostly cured now :D ...mostly) I actually came away with the incredibly useful skill of Instant Improvisational Secondary Character Creation. I ran many "adventures" with my roleplay group, formed many of the backdrops for storylines and - on the fly - created many of the Non-Player-Characters for people to interact with. Now that I no longer play, I've found that that skill has translated beautifully into novel writing.

I think the secret ingredient (for reals!) is to know in the Exact Moment of Every Scene (drumroolll): What does each character want?

Whether it's the fishmonger's daughter who refuses to give directions in your fantasy adventure romp or the bus driver who gives up and walks away from the vehicle, never to be heard from again, if you can BS (that's right) in thirty seconds what they WANT...they will be real.

Now that's Character.

p.s. Do NOT watch this scene if you haven't seen the movie. If you haven't seen the movie..you must. Sheesh. Where have you Been?

The Other Place

2010-05-11T07:52:00.002-04:00

My ducks scattered in the North Carolina winds yesterday, so in lieu of a review, I offer these thoughts on why we like some things right away.

You know, sometimes when you hear the first four or five bars of a song and you know you're going to like it right away? Something just "clicks" with you. Sometimes you "click" with a person. Sometimes you Click with a place.

I propose this has something to do with what I call the Other Self. Even since I was a child I've lived convinced that we're not quite from here; that there was something before, and there will be something after, and it will be sort of like this place, but more so, and magical, and beautiful. What I call the Other Self is the part of you that's still There. Whether you call it an angel, or your Higher Self or your intuition, it's a part of you that's connected to the Otherwhere. (That's a good word, right? Sounds like something a fantasy writer would come up with! Oh, wait...)

I think some sounds, textures, people and places just click with us and make sense, because our Other Self responds to them. It's an image, a sound or a way of being that makes instant sense to us. It's something deeper, something that touches inside us and then beyond to the other side. I'm sure someone could explain it in a chemical, scientific way and it would also be true.

Freaky yet? It's like when you're painting and you suddenly decide to use orange. And it's perfect. If you're running, and you catch that miraculous third wind, your muscles are warm and loose and you feel like you could run to the end of the state line. Or when you're writing and an idea comes to you mid-sentence. You write it in thinking, 'Wow, I didn't realize so-and-so had been in love with so-and-so for so long!' How can we not know these things about our own work, unless part of the ideas come from somewhere else?

It's that rare, rare experience of meeting someone's eyes for the first time and knowing that you've just met a friend.

These are brief, shining moments when our Other Self is here with us. (Yes, I have a bizarre, Quantum Leap sort of vision of Sparkly Spirit You, hopping in and out of your body. OooooOOoooo).

So I contend that there is something else beyond Playground Earth. I think there are some things that we knew and loved before we arrived, and when we find them here we are - for a moment - whole.

What Clicks with you?

...what? You've never played a rousing game of peek-a-boo with your higher self? Huh...

~*~*~

Round Three: Something Divine

2010-05-10T10:09:00.002-04:00

"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself." ~Leo Tolstoy

I think I've got my head on straight again, which is to say, I've started a new novel. I didn't realize how much not having story writing in my daily routine (replaced with searching for agents, tweaking a query letter, scouring the Manuscript for more typoes) had crippled a part of me. So I'm doing all those things - and working on something completely different and exciting and new! Which I understand is the cure for upset writers. And it has been.

I also decided that I'm not much of a Jess of All Trades if I can't keep up a simple blog. (Quite frankly, I also miss the instant gratification of knowing that at least one person out there is reading something I wrote). To preserve sanity, I shall once again strive to keep posts shorter, tighter, louder, faster and funnier - wait, that's for theatrical comedy. You might say, "You can't make a blog loud!" OH YES I CAN. BUT THEN YOU MIGHT THINK I'M SHOUTING AT YOU.

So I won't.

People seem to like the reviews and the Tao out there think-about-your-navel type stuff. I also realize I haven't done much talking about the other 'Trades'. So ... more art! More music! More crafts! More theatre! More what-all-the-heck-do-you-Do-all-day that makes you so dang awesome!?

Oh. You didn't ask that? Well. Shucks. Okay. I'm going to do all that stuff anyway. And shorter posts.

Here is what I was going to say today:

There is something divine in Waiting. If you have given yourself enough time to perform a task, whether it's going to the store, banking or driving to work, that time you spend standing or sitting in line is a free, wild card moment where you have the perfect excuse to do nothing - because you are, in fact, doing what you're supposed to be doing in that moment.

You're engaged in a step to accomplish something, but you've gone as far as you can go. So you have to wait. Some people take the time to catch up on texts, study flashcards, study people, check their nails, check their teeth...

I try more and more - when I have that brief and ever more rare gift of standing still - to do nothing at all.

Hiatus...but this time I mean it.

2010-04-10T10:04:00.000-04:00

All right all right. I know I've talked about taking a break before, but then I thought, 'eh, I can do Everything, at the Same Time!'

Buuuuut I can't. I've gone around and around in my head and, like many others, I want to be a writer. And an artist. And a semi competent musician...

...not a blogger. When I have more real life, interesting stuff to share, I will blog. Since I'm not a huge and popular blogger with a big devoted following - and I have decided, at last, that that's not what I even want to be right now, it's not where I'm going to put my energy. For now I'm feeling redundant, and just fulfilling my need for an insta-audience. If I have something especially amazing, inspiring or you-must-read-or-watch to share, I will. Otherwise, this will be a quiet corner.

I want to write books. I need to write books. I'm happiest when - if my boss is critisizing me at work and customers are arguing and I'm frustrated with traffic - there's a corner of my mind that is somewhere else, completely. There's a corner of my mind in another world. I haven't been doing that, because that corner of my mind has been on the internet, and that's not filling the Well, so to speak. I don't have the discipline of some of the other amazing people in my new writing network to do more than one thing (despite being Jess of All Trades ;) and so I'm going to do the thing which makes me happiest.

At this point in my life, my energy level and powers of creative focus don't accommodate Doing All Things. So, I'm not going to. I'm still following, reading, and cheering on, but in the mean time, I'll be writing - Stories.

Fight the good fight.

All men have a sweetness in their life. That is what helps them go on. It is towards that they turn when they feel too worn out. ~Albert Camus

~*~*~*~

Writer's Wednesday: "Beautiful Strangers"

2010-04-07T09:11:00.001-04:00

The colorblind casting on the TV show Merlin has gotten me thinking. Actually, I've been thinking on this particular topic awhile: How to write outside your race, gender, orientation, religion, age bracket, and so forth.

First I want to offer a ten-year-old, but still quite awesome article from the Science Fiction Writer's Association Here. For some reason, I've never felt uncomfortable about the idea of writing from a man's point of view, an older woman, a child, a soldier, a mother, a widow... to me, once you really slow down, research, and try to imagine someone's experience, the whole idea of writing The Other becomes a moot point. We're all human beings.

But now, as I'm cooking up a story idea that is our-world, urban fantasy, I find myself balking at introducing minority characters. Or of writing from their point of view. I find myself afraid that people will think I have a main character who is black just for the sake of it, instead of having an honest, human, young person's existence and struggle displayed because that's simply who and how I chose to tell the story.

I feel like I'm behind the times for even bringing this up. Anyone? Bueller? Certainly I know enough that most kids don't notice. When we presented an abbreviated version of the stage version of To Kill a Mockingbird, most younger kids couldn't comprehend why Tom Robinson was guilty. That says something.

...but then there was that judge in Louisiana. Where are we? What can be said? Can anything? Somehow, this is something I don't think about, and yet now that it's entered my writing I think about it all the time.

This is how this topic makes me feel.
Awhile back I wrote a stream of consciousness entry that came to me on an evening walk, in which I questioned if I was racist. And I don't think I am. But questions like that, when it comes to my art and writing, bother me. Does it make me racist, or sensitive? I don't want to insult anyone (men, children, women outside my age bracket, people in professions other than my own, and other races included). But I can't limit my writing to what I personally know - because that would be a small scope indeed.

Do we care about this anymore? Does anyone else struggle with this? In my fantasy worlds it doesn't seem to be a question, because I build different races and cultures from the ground up, and their racial and personal histories make them who they are. It makes sense to me then. So that's true of my fictional characters in modern times too, isn't it? Why is it harder and scarier?

Where is the line drawn? When does asking questions become insulting? Or is it? What if your intentions are good and the reason you're asking is because there's a character coming to life inside you, so strong and pure and incapable of being silenced that you have to understand where he's coming from - and it's from no place you've ever been before?

...or am I just thinking way too much, as usual?

*~*~*

New Obsession to Review

2010-04-06T08:49:00.005-04:00

Here goes!

Whaaaat? Merlin.
Where? SyFy/ BBC.
Why? Because it's totally awesome.
Eh? Yeah. That's right. Not a book, not a movie. A TV show.

The Premise: Yet another retelling of the Arthurian Legend. I'm not tied to the traditions of this story, which is probably why I enjoy the show so much. If you're a die-hard traditionalist, you'll probably want to avoid this one. If you want a fun, well-acted, cleverly written, trying-to-be-deep and mostly succeeding fantasy TV adventure complete with low budget CGI and all-ages appeal... have I got a show for you.

King Uther believes that all magic is evil and has done his best to drive all forces and practitioners of magic out of Camelot. Anyone caught practicing magic will be punished with a swift beheading or, if he's feeling merciful, trial by fire.
That creates a pickle for young Merlin, who is powerfully gifted in magic and has just been told by a dragon that it is his destiny to help guide young Prince Arthur to become the next great king of Camelot. Each episode features some sort of magical curse or dilemma that Merlin must solve with Arthur's help (as the Dragon says, "You are two sides of the same coin.") while still making everyone think that he's not practicing magic. Because then he'll die. And the series would end.

Things I Loved:

The fellow who plays the young Merlin is fantastic. He really brings the show together. And he's adorable, which doesn't hurt. But he does a good job of playing smart/peasant/country/uneducated-but-intuitive wizard type. Actually, everyone does a fine job, even when they have cheesy lines. This show really is worth a watch. Any episode.
The pace. The plots are snappy, easy to follow (not that I mind a complicated plot, but the writers work extremely well in their hour-long time frame). For instance, Merlin vists the dragon: "I need to know how to defeat the [Magical Creature]." Dragon: "Yes. I suppose you Do." Heh..eh..nobody? I thought it was funny.
Arthur and Merlin as peers. Because Merlin must practice his magic in secret, he must act only as a lowly manservant around Prince Arthur, but their relationship develops in a nice arc of young men who sense that they're equals, struggle with roles, competition, pride, etc. It's great.
The girls. The colorblind casting and role reversal is interesting, but I got over it pretty fast. They can fight, they're smart and beautiful and don't put up with stupidness from the boys.
The dragon. Of course I love the dragon. Even if it's low budget CG, they gave it a great personality.
The fact that magic can't solve everything. In fact, it usually causes more problems than it solves. Some times when Merlin tries to secretly fix a problem using magic, he creates a larger problem in a different way.
How Arthur and Merlin compliment each other. I get that they're supposed to, but they really work well as a brains/brawn team, and they learn things from each other. It's very cool. They also bicker. PS. Anyone who tends to over-analyze and read things into same-gender friendships will have a field day with this one. The BBC says they're aware. Buuuut it's the same kind f people who read things into Lord of the Rings, so...there you are.
The writing is fun and clever. Did I say that? Probably. This show is worth a watch and it's family friendly. Nothing scarier than the creatures in Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. Season 2 looks like it gets into the romance of Guinevere and so forth.

You get to see Merlin's adorkable grin a lot (I stole that word). That's right. I've just become a Fan Girl. Ugh.

Things I Did Not Love:

After about the fifth time Merlin warns Arthur about some kind of evil magical force at work, and turns out to be right, I didn't buy that Arthur would dismiss his worries so easily again. I felt it was forcing a conflict that didn't have to exist. There are plenty of other sources of conflict besides the old, "You're crazy. That's impossible." <-- this after seeing that killing a unicorn causes a blight, demons in the castle, magical shields with venomous serpents who kill an evil knight's opponents.... yeah. I thought it was forcing young Arthur's arrogance juuuuust a tad.
I wish they had more money to do mo' awesomer CG creatures. Like I said, the writing makes up for it, but for just one second my brain says, "AcK. Low budget." But that's not their fault.
In the Episode 'Valiant,' I didn't buy that the evil knight would kill Arthur. To all intents, he appeared to be cheating to find a place of power in the court. Killing the crown prince would not have gained him anything. So all the drama about the prince's life being in danger and the unyielding father wanting him to risk his life and all that...I didn't buy it. Not the only son. Not the heir to the kingdom. That's the only moment in the Court Realism that I was like, "whaaa? No."
...And again, stealing old legends to make new stuff. I think they could have written an original series without calling it 'Merlin' ... but I understand the name appeal and having fun with a 'reboot' of a legend. So...eh.

Actually, that's about it. So, to wrap up...

This Show is Best For: The whole family! Fans of Fantasy! Fans of Medieval Stuff! Anyone who wants to remember how to write a meaningful fantasy story without getting bogged down... (Looking at you, R.R. Martin...)

This Show is Best Watched: With fun snacks, hot chocolate, someone else who loves fantasy and preferably commercial-free in the form of DVR or DVD.

Watch This Show: ...if you've been craving some light-hearted, yet still strong hero-saves-the-day-while-still-remaining-humble-and-true kind of fantasy.

Don't Watch This Show:... if you're a stuffy snobby poo-pants who likes to critique CG, retakes on old legends, or question every little bit of how a medieval court might function. Because there are some 'eh' moments. See above and the notes about 'Valiant.'

"Pssst...Morgana, do you think anyone will notice a black Guinevere in supposedly medieval England?"

"Nah. They're so over that."

~*~*~*~

Kick Start

2010-04-05T09:53:00.002-04:00

I don't usually blog on Mondays any more, but I've been on an 'inspire others' kick the last week, so I thought I would let it roll over into today. I mean, it's already April, people! How are those New Year's goals coming along? Did you make any? Do you have projects? Ideas? If you're like me, you have almost too many ideas, so you get stopped by the sheer force of 'oh my gosh, what should I work on?!'

So stop. Take a deliberate moment, breathe and center, and decide what to do with your day, whatever free hours or minutes you have, and do it joyously, with energy and commitment - whether it's something creative, or cleaning the house (which takes a certain art, too - I know because I was paid to do it once). If you're tired and you find yourself staring at the wall feeling guilty about everything you're not getting done, that's okay too. Just do it with mindfulness. Surrender to doing nothing for fifteen minutes, meditate, pray, or stare at the wall with intention, and enjoy just being you for a little while - complete in yourself.

Remember that you still exist even if you aren't doing anything.

That said, here's the link to a video I love. No matter what you think of "The Secret" ... this is still a pretty danged cool way to start your day. Make sure your sound is on...the music is awesome.

The Secret to You.

(Silly Blogger...not letting me just post it or embed properly...*sigh*)

This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. ~~Psalm 118:24

You Never Know

2010-04-03T08:51:00.000-04:00

I don't usually post on Saturdays, but I had to share a couple of experiences. I have a retail job which -- as anyone who's ever worked retail knows -- can be frustrating, fun, crazy and enlightening all at the same time. (Life is still like school, by the way: You get out of it what you put into it). I enjoy my job for the people watching, the interaction, and the fact that I work at an arts, hobby, home-decor kind of place, so generally people who are there are having a good time.

I also never lose an opportunity to connect with people. You never know when something you say is important to someone. I've had people look genuinely surprised when I greet them warmly, make steady (but not creepy) eye contact, ask how they're doing, and seem interested in the answer. I've spoken of angels of the moment -- of saying something to someone at just the right time, or being there when they need it.

Yesterday I saw two different examples of parenting, one more depressing than the other. A woman marched in with three boys in tow and asked if we sold remote-control cars. I said no, but we had model cars and could show them where those were. So she went, looked at the model cars and again asked, "But you don't have any that actually run? Any remote control kits?"

"No ma'am."

Meanwhile, the boys were all over the model aisle. The youngest, around five, had picked up one of the boxes, instantly in love with the bright red car on the front. "Mom, look! Look, it's so cool!"

"Put that back, honey. It's useless."

I almost flinched. I give out genuine energy toward everyone in the store, but if I don't get kindness and courtesy in return, I shut down. That's when my smile became plastic. Think of the fun the brothers could have had putting that model together! Painting it with Dad! Learning something new, employing different skills! I'm not saying I didn't own a remote control car or two in my day, but...it made me sad.

Mom #2 was more uplifting. She came up to the cash register with her two boys, around eight and ten, and they each had a book on drawing, which warmed my heart (being an artist) and because I run the art department of the store. So of course I chatted them up. I always talk to the kids if it doesn't seem to creep out the parents.

I asked the oldest boy if he was an artist, and told him I was too. He smiled brightly and shyly the whole time, hugging his How-to-Draw Dinosaurs book and instructing his little brother to hand over his How-to-Draw Jungle Animals book so I could ring it up. Then he said, "Yeah. But my brother's a lot more creative than I am."

I said, "I bet you're creative too. I bet you are in different ways."

Still smiling, he said, "Yeah."

"I bet you hear that a lot, don't you?"

He grinned and said 'yeah', Mom laughed and I handed over the drawing books. Maybe he did hear it a lot, but I like to think it helped to hear it from a stranger (because we all know Mom and Dad don't Count ;)
I loved to see that Mom kindly encouraging her boy's interest in art, letting them talk to me, and being over-all cool. When I see parents buying things for their teenagers to make jewelry, or getting easels, canvas or other supplies, I tell them about my friends who have careers in the arts. I tell them about theatre. I tell them about Etsy and their eyes light up.

...then I see parents who have to shell out for school projects that require craft and creativity and roll their eyes at their kids while saying, "She'd better make an 'A' on this, that's all I'm saying."

...and I try to make eye contact with the young person, smile and say, "I hope you have fun. And I'm sure it will be awesome."

People have been there every step of the way for me, starting with Mom and Dad, continuing with my teachers, my friends and my colleagues. So now I'm passing that on. Be there, fearlessly, for someone else -- even if it's only for two minutes. Give inspiration - it's absolutely free.

You never know when you might save someone's soul.

~*~*~

Photo Friday April 2, Part II...

2010-04-02T10:07:00.000-04:00

That's right, a double post! Because the house is tidy, the plants are watered and I have extra time before getting ready for work. Check out the last post to see some perdy pictures of Montana.

A voice moved me to also share this picture today. Some of you will have already seen it on Facebook. Maybe I even posted it here. Oy, the memory, she goes...but here it is again.

With all the debate raging and the controversy and the back and forth on news commentary (which I don't watch - not only is there News, but we have to Talk about it All The Time, and get Angrier...?)

...I wanted to share an image I took earlier this year that I just want to call 'The Real American Soldier.'

If you don't know what the blue star banner is for, it is to show that a household has family serving in the military. One star is for the woman's husband. The other star is for her.

I'm happy to report that she gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

As far as Artistic Statement goes...I'm sure this could be considered heavy-handed...but that's just the way I am ;)

~*~

Photo Friday! A Little Slice of Home

2010-04-02T08:31:00.000-04:00

Even though I currently reside in North Carolina, my heart is up in Big Sky country. As I was going through photos looking for something Profound... I discovered these again instead. So here is a little slice of my "real" home... Enjoy.

FYI, I believe I will be adding a segment on Thursday that's focused around Art! Since I claim to be a Jess of All Trades, and I haven't truly trackled that area yet. I may also drop in a note here and there with amusing Retail Tales.
Anyway. Enough chatter. Here are some pretties.

Spring...

Summer...

Autumn...

The berries have snow hats!

...Winter. I call that pine tree my winter sun dial.

Thanks for indulging me. Have a fantastic weekend.

~*~

Writer's Wednesday: That Blinking Cursor

2010-03-30T22:08:00.001-04:00

But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling, like dew, upon a thought, produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

--Lord Byron

Okay, okay, I didn't think of anything profound. As cheesy as it is, I really just want to shout out this week to the writers online who are in my same position on the Ladder, or just ahead, or even just behind, for their inspiration, stories, encouragement... all the work everyone puts into interviewing others in the profession, sharing their experience, giving advice and so on.

I hope these words catch others at just the right time, as others' words have reached me: Wherever you are, whatever you're doing - keep it up. Put down a few words today. Mail that query letter. Tweak that outline. Go crazy, be bold in your writing. Second thoughts are for second drafts. That crazy thing you think is too much? Do it. Remember how much you loved the brave stuff in the last book you read?

If all else fails, splurge on a copy of Writer's Digest and a cup of coffee. Or tea...or whatever is your special treat. That's what I do ;)

I believe that words and messages come to us in the right time -- angels of the moment, if you will. So whether you're writing, painting, working on a project, stressed out at work, suffering from Mid-week Moodiness: This is your shout from the Universe ;) Take a breath. Get a treat. And soldier on.

Wars and elections are both too big and too small to matter in the long run. The daily work - that goes on, it adds up. ~Barbara Kingsolver

Ha! I know. It's a total cop out post. But I still hope it inspired you. Here's another shiny picture to make up for it!

Go to this link to see where this painting came from.

Book Review: Prodigal Summer

2010-03-30T09:04:00.000-04:00

As you can see by my reading list, I recently finished Barbara Kingsolver's excellent novel, Prodigal Summer. I probably never would have picked up a book like that if I wasn't familiar with Kingsolver's work (thanks to a creative writing teacher - although that was about all I got out of the class. The teacher discouraged us from writing genre fiction and had us study writers like Carver and Hemingway. Woo hoo. But I digress.) This will be a quickie review. I've figured out that (after today :D ) it will work for me to limit internet time to the evenings, and keep creative happy time in the morning.

All righty... the novel weaves together three points of view of people living in the mountains of Virginia, lushly describing nature, farmers, townspeople, love... I would call it a lusty walk in the woods, a beautiful tale of hard working, real, struggling people in a very real corner of the world. So, in a nutshell, Prodigal Summer:

Things I Loved:

The author's grasp of the human condition. Story is told from three different points of view and approaches topics spanning from one woman's (self-imposed, desired) isolation on the mountainside to a young bride's dealing with her close-minded in-laws, the whole town's struggle with the modern world, the woods, and each other...
Kingsolver's optimism. Especially after reading anything by George R.R. Martin, the fact that the book ends with hope and kindness makes it a rewarding read.
....but not everything is tied up perfectly. There is sorrow. There are loose ends. That's life. And it works.
Her beautiful arguments, from both sides of the issue, on poaching, predators, farmers versus wild life. I never felt like the author was standing on a soap box, telling me something. (I'm looking at you, Mercedes Lackey). It was all genuine, from the characters.
The humor. Oh my gosh! Especially when it comes to the 'Old Chestnuts' chapters. I would giggle aloud.
The rich, rich world of the Zebulon Valley that she paints. I felt like I was there. (Wow it feels cheesy to write that). But you can smell the pollen, feel the earth under your feet and see the people and the trees and hear the birds.
The characters. Kingsolver knows her people. I cared, I wanted to know more, yet I was ingesting beautiful language and easy pacing like a spoonful of sugar. This is Literary Fiction at its best.
Little things. The first POV char is not named until she encounters another human and gives her name. It works. You don't wander the woods alone, thinking of yourself by name in the third person. The woman is simple 'she.'
The character arcs. I know that's a writerly term but there's no other word. They evolve in beautiful rhythms, as in real life, and it was a pleasure to read.
Seriously. If you've avoided literary fiction because you're a genre hound, or you think it lacks pacing, challenge and interest, read this book. I think it's one of her best.

Things I Did Not Love:

Despite alllll the nature description, there was really only one part I remember skimming (her nature descriptions are not for the faint of heart; but it all becomes relevant). And that was only because I wanted to know more about what was happening with the woman in the woods than the woods around her.
One element in the end threw me, but maybe because I wasn't expecting it. It wasn't cheesy, and the hints were certainly laid out, but I still sort of thought, 'eh..?' But, maybe I was supposed to.

And finally, a new feature I'm adding to the review, style stolen from this website.

This Book is Best For... Adults. Or older teens who already know the birds and the bees. I rate it NC-17 for sexual content. (Tastefully done, but it is not a 'fade to black' on the love scenes book).

This Book is Best Read... On your back porch with an ice cold glass of lemonade.

Read This Book if... You want to spend a luscious few hundred pages in the mountains.

Don't Read This Book if... You don't want to ovulate. I'm serious, ladies. I think this book has the power to alter your cycle. You laugh now. But read the book and you'll see what I mean. Sorry gentlemen. But I had to warn them.

Muahahahha. 'Til next time.

What Dreams May Come?

2010-03-28T09:43:00.000-04:00

I've had a series of inspiring dreams lately. The first was about playing piano. I wasn't playing a piano, but a strange piece of paper that, when I pressed it the way I would press piano keys, beautiful, original music came out.

The second dream also involved music. I was listening to a choir, church-style. I don't attend a church; but anyway the choir was in a parking lot of some sort, practicing - all different races of people, with huge grins. The sound was enormous. I can't even describe it. It was heavenly. I remember grinning from ear to ear; I think my real face must have smiled in my sleep. It was the most perfect sound I had ever heard.

Last night's dream was about shape shifting. I have many dreams in which I can fly or shape shift. It started with an object (I can't remember what it was; something small, like a zipper pull), attached to a piece of string. The wind picked it up out of my hand like a kite, and pulled me into the air. I could control my flight. When I lifted my arm higher, the wind pulled me higher. I remember thinking this is how vultures and black hawks fly - with wings tilted upwards to "grab" the air, instead of traditional, flat-winged floating like most raptors.

There was a little girl in that dream named Rya (ree-ah), who I was pursuing. I found her and held her close and said I wanted her to come with me. She had a gift for shape shifting too. I thought she'd gotten it from my magical flying string, but it was hers, and natural. I said we had a lot to learn together.

Maybe Rya is a new muse? Maybe she's the young girl in me who still believes in magic? I don't know. Either way, all those images from the dreams have stuck with me.

I think (I know we all SAY this...) I am going to focus on story writing. When I have something to blog, I will. And I will certainly keep following others, and supporting my new writing network on the internet, because it's so good to know that all of you are out there. At this point, I need all of my creativity and passion to focus like a laser.

Anyway, long story short (too late!) here is a photo I took last year for a friend. It's a memorial statue in Missoula. Happy writing, painting, dreaming, achieving, all.

~*~

O for a muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention . . .
Shakespeare, Henry V, Prologue

Photo Friday: Make a Wish

2010-03-26T09:35:00.002-04:00

Today's photo was a collaboration with my friend Kate, on one of her last trips to Montana (oh Montana, I miss you!) She took the photo after I skipped the stone.

I love the tradition of making wishes after something special happens: If you look at the clock at 11:11 (or, 4:44 in my family), see a shooting star, or a white horse, if you blow out all the candles or all the fluff from the dandelion... or if you skip a stone seven times.

It's as if the world has winked at you, the stars have aligned and the magic is right for you to make a wish. So go ahead. Do it. Harness some magic and make a wish.

~*~*~*~

"As you think, so you are. As you dream, so you become. As you create your wishes, so they create you." ~Wendy Garrett

*~*~*~*

Got a Bottle?

2010-03-24T09:18:00.001-04:00

To live is so startling it leaves little time

for anything else. --Emily Dickinson

The trend lately seems to be talking about Time. Not enough time for blogging, not enough time for kids, for writing, for extra creative endeavors. Where does it go? This is not an essay on proper time management. I'm sure if you picked up any Woman's magazine or Googled the subject, a lot of better-informed folks have already written oodles of ideas on becoming an efficient Time Wrangler.

This is to help pause, take a breath, and -- like people who have trouble handling conflict or money or any other material issue -- consider the way you think about time.

We talk about wasting time or proper time management as if it were water, electricity or coal. Granted, time isn't like Ideas or Feelings or those other sort of indefinable products of what I jokingly call The Ether (anything you can't touch). But we have, as humans, attempted to corral it. We've labeled it with a lot of numbers so that we can keep track of things, each other, and manage to do things in an efficiant manner (there's that word again). In the end, though, the numbers are meaningless because they're another source of stress. They're man-made. Numbers, names of days and months and seasons really have nothing to do with the earth turning around the sun, the moon turning around the earth, the trees blooming in spring and the river continuing its course to the sea.

Still with me? I hope so.

Of course we can't chuck out our calenders and watches and ignore the rest of the world in a Time-free, pastoral existence. (Actually, we can. But most people choose not to pretty early on in life). But we can choose to change the way we think about time and the power it has over us. Or rather, the power we should have over it.

Starting to sound better? I hope so.

Be honest with yourself. If you had More Time, what would you do with it? Would you get more done? Or would you take time to rest without guilt? If you had "More hours in the day" would you "spend them wisely," or would you just feel less stress because you could work a little slower, exist a little more purposefully, and not feel so much like you have to get everything done before Friday!!!

If you could bottle time, where would you release your extra hours? At work? At the writing table or canvas and recording studio? With your family? I get up early so I have Writing and Art time...but I don't necessarily always get those things done. It isn't lack of time. It's what anyone who watched objectively would call a Lack of Discipline.

Half our life is spent trying to find something
to do with the time we have rushed through
life trying to save. --Will Rogers
I don't beat myself up about that though. Every moment of life, we choose exactly what we do, in that moment. "I wasted my Sunday."
"I didn't get anything done."
"My biological clock is ticking!"
"I wanted to be published/happier/thinner/richer/smarter...long before now."

...but I'm not. And that's because of how I spent my time. Oddly enough, I've become not-disappointed in myself. Why?

Because it felt really good to "waste" that Sunday. In whatever moment that was, when the sun was shining and the breeze was cool, nothing sounded better than driving out for an iced coffee, sitting, watching the world go by, or spending time with my sister, or watching a movie, or listening to music and staring at the wall. That's what I wanted to do. That's how I Spent my Time. Lack of discipline, or conscious choice?

If you've ever seen the movie Groundhog Day, you'll understand my Mom's favorite phrase, "It's all the same day."
I think we very rarely understand how often we do the exact same thing, without fail or alteration, every single day. The options never change. There are never more or fewer hours in a day. There are only decisions to make. Because we are a goal oriented society, we tend to favor Disciplined, goal-oriented decisions.

But... most of the Time, we make decisions that we regret later because it shows what we think of as a lack of discipline. "Dang! I really wanted to get this done!" But you didn't. And that's okay. Because you weren't a different person when you sat on your back porch watching the sparrows instead of balancing your check book. You weren't a different person when you decided to roll over and catch another twenty minutes instead of getting up to jog. You were you. The same day, the same desires, the same amount of motivation and Time. But in that moment, you wanted something different. We talk about Time getting away from us as if it were an animal running to ground, instead of a human-made commodity around which to structure our lives.

They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself. --Andy Warhol

When you think about how you spend your Time, think about what you want in exchange -- because we also seem to think of spending our time the same way we think about spending money. You don't shell out money for nothing. Sometimes you spend it for a house that will last generations. Sometimes you spend it on an ice cream sundae that will last for ten minutes. I think both are worthy propositions.

Sometimes I think we are so concerned with Accomplishment, a Legacy, and Immortality, that we forget to live while we're here. Sometimes I agree with the idea that what we leave behind isn't actually as important as how we have lived.

So what are you going to do today? Whatever it is... I hope you have a good time.

For everything there is a season,
And a time for every matter under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to seek, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to throw away;
A time to tear, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate,
A time for war, and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

~*~

Wonderland - Wonderful? Read on.

2010-03-23T08:43:00.005-04:00

"Always speak the truth, think before

you speak, and write it down afterwards." -L.C.

It's review time again! Last time I did a book (several actually, and a broad general opinion to cover all of them). This week, it's a movie. I couldn't pass up a romp in Wonderland. It was an enjoyable movie, and well worth seeing in the theatre for the visuals. However, like a lot of fantasy-ish movies that are coming out, it didn't really blow me away. I'm not that hard to blow away. I get misty-eyed during the History Channel's program on the Dark Ages (if you write medieval fantasy, btw, you must see that. It's a worthy hour of your life).

But I digress. I am, shockingly, not all that familiar with Tim Burton's work. I come at this from a fairly fresh point of view as someone who loves Lewis Carroll and fantasy and fun. As usual, I'll list the Good, the Bad, and this week, a special section I like to call 'the Confusing.'

Things I Loved:

Wonderland! It was beautiful. Wonderland couldn't have been more perfect. (Actually it could have. See 'What I did not love...')
The dream-like quality of the way things happened. When Alice shrank out of her dress at the beginning, she was handily wearing more Wonderland-appropriate attire underneath.
The costuming. Gee-or-geous!
Absalom. Pretty much anything Alan Rickman decides to do, actually.
The Red Queen. I'm pretty sure most other reviews are saying this, but what a brilliant character. All the people in the film were over-the-top in a good way (it was Wonderland!) and she was a perfect foil and tyrant for everything else in the movie.
The Hound dog. I mean, random, but I loved him. How could you not love the dog?
I did think Johnny Depp did a great job with what he was given. (See below...) Amusing, somewhat touching, and yet... -- wait, this is the 'things I loved' section. Hold that thought.
The Cheshire Cat. It has always been my favorite Wonderland personality. I thought the animation of him was perfect, his character and the voice and coloring and everything.
The Jabberwock was pretty dang cool.
The way they used the words to create a prophesy... there was a lot of neat twisting of the old story into the new one.
Anne Hathaway, or I should say 'The White Queen.' It looked like she had fun with the role, and she did a beautiful job of making the character fit into the world and the scope she was given without making it look too silly. Fun, but not too silly.
I did enjoy the ending, though it was predictable. Spoiler: I think, given the style of most stories these days, it would have been more surprising and fun if Alice had stayed in Wonderland.

"I can't go back to yesterday - because I was a different person then." -L.C.

Like I said, really worth seeing in the theatre. On the other hand...

Things I Did Not Love:

Maybe this is a Burton thing, but I felt like the whole film lacked Energy. I don't know if it was the color schemes (maybe I saw it too late in the evening??) but from the opening to Alice's descent into Wonderland, I kept waiting for some burst of ...something. But because Wonderland was in bad times, the colors were zany but gloomy. Alice was some sort of cross between a gothic, moody, (clever) hero and ..a lackluster, passive, gloomy mess like everything else.
I didn't feel a sense of profluence. (The sense that the story was going somewhere). Not until the very end.
Couldn't tell if it was trying to be Epic, or Burton-y, or Caroll-y, but it dipped a toe into all three and came out with a beautiful, intriguing, meandering ...something. It could have been much "much-ier," to quote the Hatter.

I think that's it. In the end, it just didn't move me. However, it did inspire me to create a special section for this week's review. Things I didn't necessarily like or dislike, but were just plain confusing.

"If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there." -L.C.

Things That Confused Me:

The Hatter Character. I get that he's mad, and maybe that explains, but I did not understand dipping in and out of the Scottish accent. It smacked of, "Ooo, look at Tim and Johnny, being just so Zany and artistic and moody!" Didn't get it. It took me out of the movie every single time to go 'Eh?!' in my head.
What the heck was with the CG dance number at the end? Eh? eh? They couldn't have waited until there was a celebratory ball and the Hatter had center stage? They had to throw it in right there over the Jabberwock's steaming corpse, complete with out-of-universe sound track and all? Eeeeennhhh....<--that's the sound my brain made.
The dreamlike quality was lost after the first 'oooo! She has a new dress' moment. Then everything was pretty much like it is in real life.

So there you have it, folks. Alice in Wonderland. Did you see it? What did you think?

"Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." -L.C.

~*~

Sunday Sampler

2010-03-21T09:28:00.006-04:00

Dang, Blogger...what's with all my sidebar photos being so enormous..? Hmm...

This is starting to look like my old blog, in that that my posts are starting with, "Wow, a week goes by fast, doesn't it?"

Laziness is my honest excuse. I will say that I have continued forward motion in other areas. In the writing realm, I have two query letters out (it occurred to me if I don't want Years to go by, I should look into simultaneous querying...) I've penned a short story that is out to my Wise Readers, and ... okay, I guess that's really it. The rest has been plain laziness.

So to make up for it a little, I'm relaunching my sense of initiative with just a couple of fun things today. The first is a little Tao. I find daily doses helpful. The following is a longer snippet than usual, but I find it profound. Whether you are a soldier, artist, or business manager, these principles will work. Knowing how your own mind functions, how people act around you, how ideas formulate in your head and go from the Ether to paper or the planning board is invaluable. Become aware of it.

The Source of Your Ability

Whether you are leading a group or going about your daily life you need to be conscious. You need to be aware of what is happening and how things happen. If you are aware of what is happening and how things happen, you can act accordingly. You can steer clear of trouble, and be both vital and effective.
Remember that you too are are a natural process. Being aware of how things happen includes being aware of yourself. Your life unfolds according to the same principle that governs ever other unfolding. You are rooted in the common ground of all creation.
Being like everything else means that you are ordinary. But consciously knowing that you are like everything else is extraordinary. And knowing how that universality works and having the sense to act accordingly is the source of your power, your endurance, and your excellence.
Consciousness of awareness, then, is the source of your ability. Learn to become increasingly conscious.

-From The Tao of Leadership

~*~*~*~

Next up, a little Strunk & White, since I didn't do Writer's Wednesday (or anything else!). Sometimes I'm happier not knowing proper grammar. It makes me less irritated ;) I may or may not have already posted this one...

Hopefully. This once-useful adverb meaning "with hope" has been distorted and is now widely used to mean "I hope" or "it is to be hoped." Such use is not merely wrong, it is silly. To say, "Hopefully I'll leave on the noon plane" is to talk nonsense. Do you mean you'll leave on the noon plane in a hopeful frame of mind? Or do you mean you hope you'll leave on the noon plane? Whichever you mean, you haven't said it clearly. Although the word in its new, free-floating capacity may be pleasurable and even useful to many, it offends the ear of many others, who do not like to see words dulled or eroded, particularly when the erosion leads to ambiguity, softness, or nonsense.

-From The Elements of Style

And finally, because it's Sunday, here's a little something of mine. Okay, I'm lying. My mom took this beautiful photo in Maui, and I just love it. The colors are so bright and beautiful and hibiscus is one of my favorite flowers. This picture never fails to fill me with joy. So on this, the second official day of spring, I hope it brightens everyone else's day too.

"It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!" ~Mark Twain

~*~*~*~*~

The Only Thing that Stays the Same is...

2010-03-14T09:49:00.004-04:00

Hi gang!

After I submitted to the First Agent, I got a little off kilter and didn't stick to my self-imposed schedule. So like a six year old taking off the training wheels, I'm trying to get back in line and find center. And that involves sticking to whatever schedules I've decided are necessary.

So Sundays are for sharing, dang it. Today is a piece of "art" since I haven't done that in awhile, and cheated with photography and all. As I move forward with the professional author thing, I like to go back and look at ooooold stories and think about how far I've come (since usually I just think about how far I have to Go), and I also do the same with my drawing. It's nice to see that your 10,000 hours have actually been worth it.

Some times, when you're feeling frustrated, it's fun to go back to something old and say, "Wow. I really have come so far." If you look at something that you've painted, a piece of music you composed, a story, an article, a photograph from your early years, you really can stand back and -- despite frustration with where you want to be -- realize that you're a lot farther along that road that you were at the beginning. You really are. No matter how slow the progress or how baby the steps, progess is made in a forward way. (Dying to see the drawings yet? I thought so.)

First is this one, which I love because not only does it show a progression in drawing skills (if not handwriting, yeesh!), it reveals the fact that I have always, always doodled in class. You can click on any of these to make 'em a little bigger.

Raining cats and dogs. HA! ...apparently my sense of humor hasn't changed much either.

Next up... this is a character who is part of a graphic novel kicking around in my head that will not only probably never be finished, but also never really see the light of day beyond me dropping pages in my sister's lap and saying, "Whatcha think? huh? Huh?" Because I'm lazy.

His tattoo is the Chinese symbols for Water, Air and Earth. Because my boy here is a former Navy SEAL. Sea, Air and Land. Yeah! Oh the cleverness of me... Also, that's a scar on his cheek...not bizarre bone structure.

I did this drawing last year. The cut off words in the corner are a quote from Burn Notice (an awesome show if you like spies, bombs, and smart people) that says, "Violence perceived is violence achieved." In context, the Burn Notice character is interrogating someone and he never actually harms him, but he does things that convince the person in question that he would harm him if needed.

Anyway. This is the same character, drawn approximately ten years ago.

From my Manga-or-Die phase. I found this drawing buried in my files and folders when I had to clean all my ~~crap~~ belongings out of my parent's house. I didn't reference it. I don't remember making it. I'm fascinated by the fact that he's holding the gun in his left hand in both pictures and that his hair is more or less the same. (After ten years). He also still wears a necklace, though the shape and idea for it has changed with time. I'm also still too lazy to give concept sketches a background. Fortunately, my guy is totally at one with his invisible surroundings.

I guess some ideas stick with you.

What are some ideas that you've held on to that you've seen evolve (and improve!) over the years?

~*~*~*~

Photo Friday...a matter of Perspective

2010-03-12T09:10:00.000-05:00

I'm really proud of this photo. If I were ever to get serious about photography, these are the kinds of things I would want to do, like the man who took amazing close-up shots of the reflections in drops of water. There are whole other worlds happening, contained in reflections, reversals, in accidental arrangements of plants or inanimate objects that, from a certain point of view, have utterly perfect composition.

Topsy-turvy goodness.

So this photo is to remind you to look around, then take a second look and appreciate the details of the world. To reverse the old saying, when you're in the forest, don't lose sight of the trees.

Happy Friday!

~*~*~*~

Tuesday Review...on a Thursday!

2010-03-11T09:34:00.007-05:00

I have been a little self-centered lately, haven't I? In an effort to keep this blog from becoming more than just my sounding board, I'm bringing back the Review, after a couple weeks of laziness. Don't worry, this will not be a long breakdown of each book like I did with the Riddlemaster Trilogy... especially since I haven't finished the series (of course, neither has the author) in case anyone is thinking about reading it, or has read it, or doesn't want to read it, or wants to know my opinion and then rant in response. What series, you may ask?

This week, I want to give my general opinion (so far) of George R.R. Martin's interminable opus, The Song of Ice and Fire.

Or, as I like to call it... The Song That Never Ends.

(Lambchops, anyone? Tell me I'm not the only one. This review also Never Ends, so grab a cup of coffee)

This is as far as I've gotten. I'm going slowly, because I need a break in between books. Some times a large break. So I actually haven't even started A Feast for Crows, because based on the title alone, I know that it's going to be a gut-twister.

If you like your knights shining, your princesses pure and sweet and your all your endings happy and neat...run away fast. Very, very fast, on your dainty white horse that never tires and probably doesn't sweat.

If, on the other hand, you are a fan of epic fantasy, gritty realism, rich, beautiful, gory, heart-breaking detail and jaw-dropping splendor, you must read these books. These books are not for the faint of heart; they're a bloodbath in a gilded tub.

Which is not to say they aren't great books. Because they are. Let's break it down!

Things I Love:

First of all, he's just a darn great writer. The books start off in a way that lets you know exactly how the rest of the series is going to go, so you have plenty of time to get out while you can. First a young man of the Nightwatch and his companions are killed by the roving Others in a brief prologue, then we open with a seven year old boy's point of view as he and his brothers watch their father behead a man in the name of the King's justice. Don't like that? You still have time to run before you get attached to anyone...
The rich sense of the world. There is an epic history (most of which you learn throughout the course of the story) that is immense and also extremely relevant to every character.
The alternating POV style of writing. Every chapter is a different character's Point of View, and this is not to rehash what just happened and get someone else's opinion. It's an awesome device which Martin masterfully uses to spin us through space (and timeline) to keep things clipping along.
Everyone is gray. That is, no one is a shining knight, princess, perfect woman or man --except perhaps my favorite character who, because of his flawless, unbending honor, gets his head chopped off about three quarters of the way through book one. That should set up the rest of the series nicely for you.
Martin's description (see Dislikes...) Again...you can smell the sweat, feel the dirt -- and the silk, smell the food, see every person. When you're on the Wall with the Nightwatch, it's dang cold, even if you're reading snuggled up under the covers.
The fact that I have no idea what's going to happen next. Maybe I don't read enough epic, gory fantasy, but usually when I watch a movie or read a book, the plot clues are laid down and I know enough about storytelling technique that I can tell you exactly what's going to happen. Not with these books. Martin is not afraid of sharp lefts. Or killing people off. Some times, dozens of beloved characters at one time. It all makes sense in the world of the plot, but it's no less heartbreaking or terrible. I'm just warning you.
...the fact that life is kind of like that. I come from a military family. In a hazy way, I know the realities of war, and what men and women have to do, and what can happen to them, and that people you know and love can die. And it never, ever makes sense.
Did I mention the shades of gray? The character growth (and sometimes not) and the personal motives and demons and weakness are as rich as the world in which they live.
All the good moments are earned. The few scenes and glimpses of peace and celebration are beacons in a dark time.
The climactic scenes are masterfully crafted. I probably shouldn't use the word 'cinematic' to describe a book, but Martin's pacing when he's building to the climax of each book (which comes in waves, from the POV of each character) gets my heart pumping and makes me want to shout. It's a good lesson.
...I could go on. I've warned you about the violence (and Martin doesn't pan away from it. You're in there, splintering bone, covered in mud and blood, witnessing rape (I am not kidding. If you don't like violence, don't read these books) but -- you're also part of the beauty, the majesty of the world and tiny, glimmering moments of light and honor). So if you can handle that, dive in.

Still not sure? Here's some Things I Did Not Love:

The violence. I mean, okay, I know I keep reading the books and I can't resent the author for writing what's true and it's part of the world and very sad, horrible, similar things happened (and still happen) in our real world. But it is very hard to take, page after page.
The length. Again, it's something you just accept with the books. The plots and lines and subplots are all stretched long to last over six books - or keep encountering impossibly complicated, frightening, frustrating twists and surprises that make me want to throw the book across the room. There's no closure, ever, anywhere, not even when people die.
The vast amount of description. My dear friend Kate, I know, will side with me on this. She introduced me to these books when, as like-minded friends and readers, we were seeking fantasy fiction that was more 'realistic' (as in, horses get tired, people aren't always good -- or all evil, kingdoms need resources...etc). But these take the cake. I want to shake Martin and say, "I get it! You researched medieval history to the point of obsession and you probably had real flags sewn of every baron and all his cousins...but you don't have to describe the stitching in their banners in the middle of a battle scene!" ...because what he does comes very close to that. I've been guilty of skimming. *wrist slap*
Did I mention the length?
And, as a personal point of view on the world, I don't know that I believe the percentage of people that he portrays would be so greedy, selfish, two-faced, cowardly and violent. I know it's a different time/place/world, but so very few of the characters are honorable, kind, noble or helpful that it just makes me want to spit. But that is his statement, I suppose. Most people are common. Most people are trying to survive in an impossible time. But it's hard for me in Happy Jess World to get through volume after volume of that.
That said, the ambiguity keeps things interesting. (Oops, this is Things I Did Not Love column..)
The leeeeeeeeeeeength. Not only of the books themselves (which, if you cut out the description of the knight's banners, their greaves, horse's saddles and so forth, would probably be about two hundred pages shorter apiece), but of the series. Maybe I'm a lazy reader. But these books are like a life sentence. You could let them go...but I need closure. I need to know that someone wins, eventually, even if it's a complete surprise and it's someone I hate.
The fact that sunlight 'kisses' a blade in every swordfight. Or the blades 'kiss' each other, or whatever. The first time he used it, I thought 'neeeeat! That's perfect.' But...then he uses it again. And again. Dude, get a thesaurus.

I think that's about it. Since I haven't finished the series I can't give a complete opinion, but there's what I have to say about the style. And now the painter guy is here and I completely lost my train of thought. So here is some closing Randomness:

What the Heck is This About? This is going to get slaughtered.

How can they possibly hope to please the fans when they'll have to cut so much out? I'm already amused that (as much as I love Sean Bean), they're reversing the Blonds and the Brunettes. It's practically legend that Lannisters are all... golden. Apparently we as a people still can't get over the notion that Lightness is good, and Darkness is bad. (Don't give me that right-actor-for-the-role nonsense, either. They're casting blonds in good-guy roles. And good girl roles. Like Sansa's beautiful chestnut hair, like her mother's? They're both blond now). Maybe they'll color it for the series. I know it shouldn't bother me, but it's subliminal. It's like Rohan vs. Gondor -- or the fact that they whitened up Ged in The horrible, horrible, Wizard of Earthsea movie...Thing.

Jaime Lannister? Ned Stark?

Bueller? Is this working for anyone else...? Just checking.

So whatever. Maybe they'll butcher it like they did the Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth story and I can just ignore it. (P.S. Why can't people just come up with an original idea for a fantasy TV series instead of raping the great literature of the world? Something that is specifically written for the medium and storytelling style, instead of constantly stealing and butchering plots and characters? Seriously, Hollywood. Get it together.)

Okay, Rant Done!

And, a final word on Too Much Description (this is for you, Kate):

You don't want a complete description of everything. That just serves my ego as the author (I'm looking at you, George). Even as the reader is looking up to say, "Oh, that's really nice," he or she is distracted from the story. So I really try to prune it down as much as I can, to give the readers just a whiff of it, because that's all they need. Because then, they create a whole world for themselves, and they're off. --Franny Billingsley

What did you guys think? (Of the books, not this review, even though it's now almost long enough to fit into the series).

~*~*~*~*~

Okay, that's not the end. This is pretty great, too.

~*~
...okay, one more thing. These are the lines that hooked me in for the series:

"Yes, Father," Bran told him. He looked up. Wrapped in his furs and leathers, mounted on his great warhorse, his lord father loomed over him like a giant. "Robb says the man died bravely, but Jon says he was afraid."

"What do you think?" his father asked.

Bran thought about it. "Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?"

"That is the only time a man can be brave," his father told him.

~*~

Go. Get on with your day, already.

March, Chapter 2

2010-03-09T21:18:00.000-05:00

The most merciful thing in the world,

I think, is the inability of the human

mind to correlate all its contents.

--Opening line of The Call of Cthulhu, by H.P. Lovecraft

...in which I experience a distinctly smaller surge of energy than say, Monday of last week. It was a new month, a new day, I sent out my first query for the novel and heard back on it right away, and had some fun personal things going on...

This week, not so much. I know it would have been miraculous if my story was accepted by the first ever agent that I applied to (but in my happy Jess world, that's how it works, darn it). So obviously, the Universe intends me to have a different agent. (Yes. That's how it works in happy Jess world. If, as I go through agents, I decide there is actually something Wrong With the Manuscript...I'll deal with it then).

So, no mental breakdowns! Fortunately I've waited long enough, read enough, prepared myself and am enough aware of the statistics that the rejection didn't shatter my world. But on top of a couple of other things this week, it was...disheartening.

The point of this post is to query (ha, get it..? Query..) How does everyone pick themselves up, dust off, and get going? I have a tidy list of agents to go down until I hit the bottom (At which point my mood will be a bit less sunny and I will have to do some re-evaluation...) But for now, it's all about finding the inspiration to keep on truckin'.

For me, it's as easy as treating myself to a yummy coffee drink, a new book, or an inspirational quote. Yes, an inspirational quote.

I don't have them hanging on the wall, or anything. I keep a collection of poetry, inspirational writings and so on around so that when I need answers, I can consult them. By consult, I mean to use a technique that I took from Richard Bach (and probably my mom, at some point). Hold a question in your mind, or a feeling you want resolved, pick a book (preferably one that is somewhat relevant) and flip to a random page. Read until you think you've come to your answer.

It works like magic most of the time.

Today as I wallowed in the ditches of temporary defeat and restless wondering (on a personal level), I opened a book of poetry I have titled Harvest of Gold, and simply said, "What do I do?" My fingers found this page:

Let us, then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.

--Longfellow

...which is part of a larger poem called The Sonnet of Life, which I love. But the lines couldn't have been more perfect.

So, writers, artists, friends, countrymen... now that I've entered this stage, tell me what you do to keep your spirits up, and when you decide that you might need to take another look at your project?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Avoid the use of qualifiers.

Rather, very, little, pretty -- these are the leeches that infest the pond of prose, sucking the blood of words. The constant use of the adjective little (except to indicate size) is particularly debilitating; we should all try to do a little better, we should all be very watchful of this rule, for it is a rather important one and we are pretty sure to violate it now and then.

--From 'An Approach to Style' in Strunk & White's The Elements of Style

~*~

Pure Brilliance

2010-03-07T14:03:00.000-05:00

Sundays are for sharing, but I was lazy and I have nothing of my own to share. However, if you want to laugh out loud (seriously) as well as discover the magic formula for every Academy Award winning movie ever made...

WATCH THIS

It is brilliant. It is soooo funny. You're welcome. :D

Enjoy.

Okay, okay...one more thing. Here is the Secret of how to Create Conflict:

Finally a Photo for Friday

2010-03-05T09:54:00.000-05:00

All right, I'm totally cheating again by digging up another old photo! But I've let my morning slip away. Besides, I really wanted to share another Scotland photo, since the last one got rave reviews :D

This was a bridge outside of Glencoe (I think...rats to me for not properly labeling before I forgot.) But it was just classic. I call it 'The Fairy Bridge," and those of you who write fantasy (or anyone else with a sense of wonder ;) will be able to figure out why.

Happy Friday all!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Faeries, come take me out of this dull world,
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame.
~William Butler Yeats

A lady, with whom I was riding in the forest, said to me, that the woods always seemed to her to wait, as if the genii who inhabit them suspended their deeds until the wayfarer has passed onward: a thought which poetry has celebrated in the dance of the fairies, which breaks off on the approach of human feet. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

No child but must remember laying his head in the grass, staring into the infinitesimal forest and seeing it grow populous with fairy armies. ~Robert Louis Stevenson

Blind folk see the fairies.
Oh, better far than we,
Who miss the shining of their wings
Because our eyes are filled with things
We do not wish to see.
~Rose Fyleman

I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now? ~John Lennon

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Writer's Wednesday: A Toe in the Door

2010-03-03T09:23:00.000-05:00

The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.

--Anne Morrow Lindbergh

On Monday I sent out the first query letter for my novel, As the Swallow Flies. I sent it to my first-choice agent, who promises a fast response time. You can still imagine my sheer jumping-around-the-house joy to receive a response yesterday, requesting the first thirty pages of the manuscript.

Now metaphors are swirling in my head. I know the response time for the manuscript will be a lot slower than the query. It's like...winning a contest, receiving a big, beautiful, brightly wrapped package and then having to wait a month to see if there's actually anything in it. ...I guess the agent probably feels that way, too. The query was decent, I match their genre, I tried to be professional and tell them why I chose them - but will the manuscript measure up?

Fingers crossed. I have a toe in the door, thanks to awesome, pay-it-forward teachers like Elana and websites that make tracking down appropriate agents free and easy, support of family and friends and good luck energies from everyone.

Maybe they'll pass. Maybe they'll request a full...maybe the full manuscript won't be what they're looking for.

Or maybe it will. Either way it is awesome, just awesome to have taken this step. Now I'll sit here, with the shiny package in my lap, until I hear from them again. I'll let you know if there was anything inside.

A Little Tao in your Tuesday

2010-03-02T08:11:00.001-05:00

"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow:

they neither toil nor spin;

and yet I say to you that even Solomon

in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."

(yes, I know these are cherry blossoms)

As I searched through my self-appointed mentors (books, knowledge, blogs, quotes, etc...) for some inspiration to keep up the awesome surge of energy and motivation I felt yesterday, I came across this:

The Source of Power

Natural events are potent because they act in accordance with how things work. They simply are. Study natural processes: the light in the sky, the gravity of earth, the unfolding of your own ideas and insights, the emptiness of space, the fullness of life, and the behavior of saints.

Imagine what would happen if these processes were neurotic and self centered: a lazy sky flickers; gravity varies from moment to moment; your mind is irrational; space is agitated; life is abortive; the saints are worthless models. Nothing works.

The wise leader knows better than to be neurotic and self-centered. Potency comes from knowing what is happening and acting accordingly. Paradoxically, freedom comes from obedience to the natural order.

Since all creation is a whole, separateness is an illusion. Like it or not, we are team players. Power comes through cooperation, independence through service, and a greater self through selflessness.

-- From The Tao of Leadership.

I found that timely and helpful, especially in light of professional and personal developments. It's similar to a Richard Bach quote I love: "You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make it come true. You may have to work for it, however." That last part is almost always cut off, when you see it on an inspirational poster. But that's the most important part.

So here's to keeping up momentum, pursuing those goals and still, Tao-ishly, going with the flow.

A New Day

2010-03-01T10:34:00.001-05:00

...a new month, a new season!

Well, today is the day. I am querying my first agent. Fingers crossed. But whether or not I get a form rejection, a polite email back or even, heavens above, a request for a partial, it's dang time to dive into that pool.

Here's sending out good love vibes to all the other writers out there as I type up an email with trembling fingers. I hope all of you have a great start to your March, 2010.

"If you have no faith in yourself, then have faith in the things you call truth. You know what must be done. You may not have courage or trust or understanding or the will to do it, but you know what must be done. You can't turn back. There is no answer behind you. You fear what you cannot name. So look at it and find a name for it. Turn your face forward and learn. Do what must be done."

-Deth to Morgon, Prince of Hed
Patricia McKillip, from The Riddlemaster of Hed

The Return of Morris...and Friend.

2010-02-28T08:59:00.000-05:00

Since I didn't really do Photo Friday on Friday, here it is on Sunday! Some of you will remember Morris from a couple of weeks ago. Well, Sister and I put up a bluebird house in the hopes of attracting some feathery neighbors. It seems to be working!

Yesterday Morris dropped by with a new Lady Friend, and they were checking out the digs. He had been by for a couple of weeks in a row, checking out the house, and finally deemed it appropriate to show to his lady, who I have dubbed...Betty.

Still slightly skeptical. Unfortunately my camera thought the fence in the background was more important than Morris.

I didn't even realize Betty was dropping in! Morris says, "Hey sweetie! This is my house. Come on in!"

Betty checks out the roof. Seems airtight... While Morris makes sure he picked up all his dirty socks.

A true gentleman, Morris stands watch while Betty checks out the interior. I'm so excited!

Hope all of you have a wonderful Sunday.

Are Your Ideas Solid?

2010-02-25T11:21:00.005-05:00

I know, I know. I'm doing Writer's Wednesday on a Thursday. What would Mother say...? Here goes, anyway.

Writers, Artists, Businessfolks, Musicians, Actors... anyone who ever needs to come up with a Plan, here is a thought for you. In Richard Bach's book, One, the narrator and his wife fly a plane to various dimensions and view different aspects of the universe, their own pasts and possibilities of different futures based on choices they made. (Stay with me, here).

One fascinating idea he puts forth is the image of a - well, an Idea Factory. He claims to have an idea Fairy that visits him (most of you won't laugh; we all envision our muses in different ways, right?) In the novel, that same fairy leads them on a tour of the actual factory where ideas are built. Yes, built. And they aren't constructed out of spidersilk and fairy dust, either.

The ideas that will work, that will really hold up to the tests and the critique and our own self-doubt are, in his vision, built of steel and crystal and carefully wrought geometric support. They are solid. When he closed his eyes and really let himself relax and think about the structure of any Idea he'd ever had, he could actually feel or "see" that the truly solid ideas actually felt - well - solid. He could sense the structure that his Fairy, or Subconscious, or the Universe or God had crafted into the idea and knew that if he pursued it, it would hold steady.

Like a hexagon or any perfect construct discovered in Nature, a (dare I say it) divine inspiration will stand the tests without question.

Gee...could there be something at work here?

Now, some ideas aren't like that. You try to chase them down only to find that they dissolve into mist, crack under pressure or simply drift to the side in the face of the next Shiny Object we notice.

So what do you think? Planning a website? Cooking up your next story, painting, choice for a character quirk or even laying a marketing or life plan? We are not separate from the rest of the universe and the laws that govern the way things are built, even things that seem as transparent and untouchable as Ideas. But they are very real. They are energy, they are alive, and they have a structure. Our brains want to be in tune with the golden ratio whether we're composing a painting, a play or novel or a business plan -- if we don't doubt, critique, and shut ourselves down too soon. So here's my advice...

Sit in a place that's peaceful for you. Close your eyes. Hold your idea in the palm of your mind. Spin it, rotate, smack it with a hammer. Does it feel loose and shaky, brittle, unsubstantial? Is it fixable, missing pieces, or should it be abandoned due to poor overall construction?

Or does it feel really solid? Steel strong-but flexible, an unshakable foundation that will allow for growth; does it gleam with divine power and draw you into unbreakable, endless possibility?
If so, grab it and run.

Happy creating.

Now for a Word from Our Sponsors

2010-02-23T07:52:00.007-05:00

...not really.

But your regularly scheduled Movie or Book review will now be moved to Thursdays.

But I got an Award ^_^ Thanks Aubrie!

I get to tell six outrageous lies, and one truth...you have to figure out which one it is.

1. I once served as pit crew for the Indy 500 but gave up that fast-paced life in order to pursue my theatre and writing dream.

2. At the tender age of fifteen I was sucked into a temporal vortex and had to navigate my way through the fifth-dimension. In order to return home I had to negotiate a peace between two warring fifth-dimension nations so their combined technologies could - ...okay, on to number 3.

3. I secretly trained at Hogwarts Academy for several years during my youth when our family told everyone we were "home schooling." I dropped out when their Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers started getting a little seedy.

4. Unlike other little girls, I never liked horses. After the first horse my parents bought me in Texas sprouted wings and returned to Olympus without so much as a 'thanks for the oats,' I've felt nothing but bitterness toward the equine companions in my life.

5. I met an artist in Venice in the Piazza San Marco who offered me an apprenticeship after coaxing me into selling one of his paintings to some tourists who thought I was also Italian, and said my English was amazing. (I thanked them.)

6. I hate coffee. And chocolate, actually; I think it's unhealthy and highly overrated.

7. If Antonio Banderas offered to teach me combined Dance and Spanish lessons, I would laugh in his face.

All right. Can you tell the truth from the bold face lies? BUahahahaha.... heh. Yeah. Have a fantabulous Tuesday.

A Clean, Well Lighted Neighborhood

2010-02-21T22:15:00.002-05:00

Yes, I stole that from Hemingway. The best writers steal, after all (or something...). The following is a stream-of-consciousness (I know that sounds scary, right?) ...okay, well, I suppose it's an essay. Or even, horrors, something like a journal entry. As I slothed through my Sunday, I finally had to scrape free of the couch and take in some of the sweet evening air. I get a lot of thoughts while I'm walking and yes, they actually come to me in the awkward form of prose you will find below.

Since Monday is for philosophy and general ramblings, I offer you, my friends and some fellow writers, a moment into an unedited evening walk by my side.

It is completely self-indulgent, and quite long. So thanks already if you decide to tag along.

* * *

The light in the north is silver. I think about this now as I try to determine what is special about the place in which I live; Fayetteville, North Carolina. It's been a lazy Sunday with little accomplished but to try a cookie recipe and care for Sister, who is recovering from a stomach virus. Doing nothing begets a desire for more of the same. So with the need to clear my head, I take a walk out into the neighborhood.

An evening of this temperature in Montana would occur in late May, June or July, when the sunset lasts until eleven o'clock and the air is gently cool enough to warrant a jacket. But not if you are a Montana girl. I relish the cool air and this fake February spring evening.

In my travels, and in my reading I've noticed a heavy emphasis on the quality of light in a place. Writers and artists will languish on the golden light of Tuscany, the soft light of Paris, the hot light on the cobalt Caribbean sea.

Several winters ago I determined that the light in the north, the light in the valleys and mountains of the Northwest corner, is silver. Stark peaks of black rock and bright snow thrust fearlessly against defenseless but untouchable sky, or peek coyly over the gleaming clouds of an inversion, like the peaks of Olympus just miles from the ski lift. Even in summer, the stars overwhelm the sky with silver, the moon still rules, the water glints with echoes of silver. We protect our light in the north, sometimes on purpose by keeping skies dark for the stars, by keeping the air clean - sometimes just by the virtue of having spaced our modest towns so far apart.

Now I walk through my temporary North Carolina neighborhood, trying to gather a feeling of place, trying not to be intimidated by this step I have taken to move away from home, to try something new, even though I am staying with my sister.

The neighborhood is tidy and new, blank Suburbia that could be anywhere, almost anywhere but for the towering pines. A few remain in tamed, domesticated rows, old sentries. I can relate to a mockingbird's song, t'yor! t'yor! I hear him before I see him and doubt my knowledge - was it a mockingbird? Then I see him, hopping like a jester on a rooftop.

The sky is a pastel swath of dusty blue and outlandish pink and fluorescent orange - too bold for most adults to pick out of a crayon box, but good enough for the Creator, who left brush strokes showing within the clouds, and definitely went outside the lines.

It is church night here in North Carolina. I think of Emily Dickinson as I see families pack into cars in their Sunday best; I think of the Native Americans, who do not parcel off a single day of the week to celebrate the sacred.

Then I smell barbecue, the tangy rise of lighter fluid on charcoal and for a moment I'm flung back to childhood, to the Fourth of July, to lakeside feasts of hotdogs and potato salad, scattered with rounds of aggressive fishing.

Like the mockingbird, I hear the men before I see them - their robust laughter and their music. I wave when I do see them and they wave back, athletic men my age with skin like truffles - or coffee - my inner dialogue fumbles as I try to think of a good description that isn't trite and doesn't involve food or sound racist.

I worry that I am racist, now that I'm down here, now that numbers are even, where in my home in the Northwest, I can count on one hand the number of black people I see in a year. (African American? But I have cheerfully been called 'white girl') I don't think I'm racist, but I am out of my comfort zone, and it makes me think about these kinds of things.

I keep walking, though I want to ask 'What's cooking" or "how are you" - my gregarious Northwestern, small town self. Can I be myself? I can't even figure out where I am. How can I find a sense of place, a sense of people, when so many here are also from somewhere else? What are we?

I know the history of my home town in Montana, how a place can go from a rail road town to logging to skiing and hiking - but this place is different. This place exists because of a military base, and that is its history. It is my history. My forefathers fought in the Revolution, in the Civil War, in the first and second World Wars, in Vietnam; my brother flew for the Air Force, my sister served in Iraq.

This city, burgeoning with families of soldiers, male and female, stores, Walmarts, a mall, reckless, rude drivers and no safe place for a Northwestern girl to ride her bike - is more intimidating to me than a black bear on a mountain trail. But I must fledge here, for I have clung to childhood too long. Here I must confront fears of independence and success or failure and of becoming racist, classist, place-ist, and closed. All these thoughts come unbidden on my short neighborhood walk.

I try to recapture my dream of the South - for part of my blood comes from here, from Oklahoma, from Texas.

A bird perched high in a tree looks impossibly red in the dying evening light. It is so small and so far away I can't believe the color I discern, so I doubt it for a moment, like the mockingbird song - then it flies away, flashes of red, unmistakeably a cardinal. It is important to me to learn the plants and animals of a place, the ground on which I stand.

As I turn back toward my sister's house I hear children - then geese circling, confused by our alternating days of gentle heat and gentle snow. Barbecue comes to me again, sweet hot charcoal, then the meat - definitely steak. I should get to know my neighbors. Maybe in the summer when lawns are lush and songs join the mockingbird's, my Southern dream will come to life again.

I realize that the light is simple, clear, as unobtrusive as the woman watching me from her porch. The light lets the cardinal be red. The woman lets me go my way, nods her head as I lift a hand, but doesn't intrude on my walking time or the new knowing that the light in this place is quiet, honest and without need for a name I might give it, filtered through the tall and silent pines.

Writerly Ramblings: Inspiration and kittens and contests, oh my!

2010-02-16T22:11:00.002-05:00

I'm happy to report that I have very little to blog about today, because I've gotten some good work done on my story submission... stuff. Let me tell you, I've discovered that writing a synopsis is killer. I would equate it with the difficulty of a query letter and next time I'll know to start it much sooner... I hope prospective agents and such read story samples before they hit the synopsis because - well, it's not as Good.

But that's not what you want to hear about today!

So, I have finally ~~been suckered into~~ found a couple of contests with spif-tastic enough prizes that I entered.

Contest #1
Miss Elana is hosting an amazing contest over at her blog. Entering is super easy (check out her rules over there!) And the grand prize is a chance to have your query critiqued by one of several real live literary agents. There are runner up prizes too, including a copy of Elana's book, From the Query to the Call.

So if you're a writer with a query go over there and enter, if you haven't already!

Contest #2
Over at the Guide to Literary Agents, they are also holding a critique contest for completed middle grade and young adult works. You must enter the first 150-200 words of your novel, add some links to your pages (as I'm doing here ;) and a log line of your story - a one sentence description. Think of the lines TV Guide uses to describe a movie. This contest runs through the 21st of February.
Please please go over there to check out the Complete Rules, and see the nifty prizes. First prize is a critique of the first 25 pages of your novel by Jennifer Laughran, of Andrea Brown Literary Agency.
Cool!

* * *

And now for some Writerly Goodness. I know a lot of people are unplugging this week, or cutting back, and until sell a novel (or two!) I will restrain myself on too much writing advice.

Instead, I have decided to share Inspiration! I'm easily motivated by quotes, images, the right music and finding other great authors to read. One of the best books I have is called the Writer's Guide to Fantasy Literature. It's packed full of themes, techniques, interviews with the forerunners of modern fantasy, and in every sidebar, nifty quotes and excerpts. So here are a few for you that I love.

Obviously, they are geared toward fantasy writers -- but if you change a few words they can apply to anything.

Fairy tales say that apples were golden only to refresh the forgotten moment when we found that they were green. They make rivers run with wine only to make us remember, for one wild moment, that they run with water. --G.K. Chesterton, "The Ethics of Elfland"

Having once believed wholeheartedly in something, we seldom lose the ability to believe. It is like learning to ride a bicycle. --Lloyd Alexander

Those who fear the imagination condemn it: something childish, they say, something monsterish, misbegotten. Not all of us dream awake. But those of us who do have no choice. — Patricia A. McKillip

So when the storyteller by the hearth starts out: "Once upon a time, a long way from here, lived a king who had three sons," that story will be telling us that things change; that events have consequences; that choices are to be made; that the king does not live forever. -- Ursula Le Guin

Go make some magic...

Be Still (And..blog less)

2010-02-15T08:51:00.003-05:00

The wise leader speaks rarely and briefly. After all, no other natural outpouring goes on and on. It rains and then it stops. It thunders and then it stops.
    The leader teaches more through being than through doing. The quality of one's silence conveys more than long speeches.
     Be still. Follow your inner wisdom. In order to know your inner wisdom, you have to be still.
    The leader who knows how to be still and feel deeply will probably be effective. But the leader who chatters and boasts and tries to impress the group has no center and carries little weight....
    Remember that the method is awareness-of-process. Reflect. Be still.
   What do you deeply feel?

--From The Tao of Leadership

Be still, and know that I am God.

--Psalm 46:10

* * *

Apparently, in tune with a vibe of quite a few other writing bloggers, I've realized that I'm doing more blogging than writing. My energy is going into posts, and it's awesome fun, and yes it is still "writing"...but it's eating up my morning time, which is my sacred creative time (that's right, with a fresh pot of coffee!) My energy is scattered. When I'm not writing, I realize, or spending my spare time thinking about a story (not a blog), I start to get a little ... anxious.

If I wanted to be the best blogger ever, I would focus on that. But I don't. So I can't focus on that. So I'm cutting back. At work on Mondays, we have a 7:00 AM meeting to go over the weekly sales. By the time I put up sale fliers for my department and get home again, it's almost eight, and I have to be back to work in a few hours. That is good writing time -- and here I am on the internet. Self inflicted.

I've determined that if I continue to blog faithfully every day, I will have to do it in the evening. It just has to be a rule. Too much internet, too much checking email multiple times a day (which really means I need to get out and make some new friends, I think!) ...not enough story time.

In short, still blogging, but don't surprised if I miss a day or if the next day's post shows up in the evening.

That is the new game plan. All set? Break!

Valentine's Day Special

2010-02-14T12:11:00.003-05:00

Okay, okay, I'm not ignoring Valentine's Day. I honestly couldn't think of what to Share, so that's where Halloween came from. Then I realized I've been waiting for an excuse to do the post you'll find below.

I've never been a person who "hates" Valentine's Day. I'm a Leo! We were made for Valentine's Day. Bring on the roses, chocolate, wine, teddy bears with big red bows, moonlight strolls and any other images Hallmark throws out. I'll take it.

I tell myself that I've always been single on Valentine's Day because I've been focusing on other things, that I'm not a 'light' dater, and that it doesn't bother me. (It actually doesn't, because my family gives me chocolate and flowers anyway ;) And all those things are true, but I've also realized that, perhaps, some of my childhood experiences may have shaped my worldview and given me a rather unrealistic expectation of Men.

No, I'm not talking about Disney, fairy tales or even the sexy men of Prime Time TV ... although for an awesomely hysterical and fun look at the men of Disney, check out the link at the bottom of the post (the page also has one gut-bustingly funny typo right off the bat that you'll enjoy, if you're a sicko like me).

No, my expectations were formed mainly during my Saturday morning and after school cartoon watching hours. So, this Valentine's Day, I offer you...

An Ode to the Imaginary Men in My Life

Wakko

He's cute, he's funny, and he sounds like one of the Beatles. Sure, Yakko was taller, but a sense of humour is very important to me. (I spelled it the English way for you, Wak.)

All of the Ninja Turtles

My interest in the gang was fickle - I couldn't pick just one! Michelangelo was fun-loving and clever, Donatello philosophical, quiet and wise, Raphael was the bad-boy and Leonardo the fearless leader who fought with Two Katanas. I love you all, boys.

The Green Ranger (Yes, I like humans too.)

(Please don't do the math and figure how old I was when I watched the original series. Thank you.) Anyway. Tommy was a lost soul, he had a ponytail, he was the good-guy in a bad situation who eventually overcame evil and yes, became the White Ranger. (The actor also stuck with the series longer than any other, as far as I've noticed, and I respect an actor who Works :D Even if the show is...well, what it is.)

The Biker Mice from Mars

I mean. They were Biker Mice. From Mars.

And last, but not least (in fact we saved best for last), and utterly Predictable:

Gambit

Only the manliest of cartoon men can wield shining pink power with that kind of deadly macho-ness. Don't you think? Wolverine was not always the most popular X-Man. And, in fact, I think he is only the most popular among men. Why? He's indestructable, doesn't' give two shakes what anyone else thinks, rides a motorcycle, smokes a cigar... while Gambit, really, has always been the most popular among female fans. If you don't know why, then you aren't a female fan.

I mean, c'mon Cyclops. Get it together. Yellow briefs Outside the blue spandex? There is a clear winner for Coolness here.

I will cry, throw things and break them if I try to describe how many things are wrong with this picture. Better hope you never go down South, Kitsch, 'cause you've got a perdy mouth.

* * *

So, in self-analytical conclusion, my taste in men is clearly defined as follows. Single Male must Possess: A sense of humor, mad ninja skills or super powers (I'm not picky!), a regional dialect or foreign accent of some kind, and some degree of rakish charm. That's not too much to ask is it?

...okay, if that didn't amuse you nearly as much as it amused me, I offer these wonderfully funny and Holiday Appropriate links to waste your time and make you chuckle:

Tracy Smith on Dating. This is So. Funny.

A Guide and Rating system for the Princes of Disney. (I was pleased that Basil of Baker street ranked in the top 5!)

But I also Design Costumes...for Myself.

2010-02-14T10:00:00.005-05:00

This post is a Formatting Disaster and I just can't fix it. But it's mostly about the pictures anyway. Enjoy!

Since I am, after all, Jess of All Trades. For those who don't know it, Paul Harvey said that, given a choice, he would love to spend Halloween in either New Orleans, or Whitefish, MT.

For those of you who don't know who Paul Harvey is...I just...I...I have nothing.

So anyway, since I never really grew up on the inside, I still love to play dress up and act like something I'm not (no, don't tell me I should've been an actress. Trust me, I should Not). So Halloween in Whitefish is perfect for me. They have a huge contest that involves all of the bars downtown, and there are big prizes in three different categories (individual, couple, group). I won first place Individual my second year, and then second place a couple of years later. Before I was old enough for the Bar Contest, I participated in the theatre's haunted house as Anubis, guarding a doorway, and then a Raven (of course), spooking the public from the shadows as they wandered the halls.

Pictures below, in no particular order. This hearkens back to the days of my childhood when Mom would patiently wait until the morning of Halloween to find out what I wanted to Be, then, in a mad rush, sew up something amazing from tigers to bats to princesses, and off we'd go. Halloween is really my Christmas, in some ways.

I guess hitting all the bars in town is like trick-or-treat for adults.

And of course, I couldn't let Halloween slip to the wayside when we toured Mockingbird last fall. The whole company (well, almost the whole company) dressed up and we had a company party in the breakfast room of the hotel, and a contest judged by the amused, bemused, probably mildly frightened front desk associates. It was awesome. I didn't win, but then, Steampunk is still somewhat of a cult phenomenon. So without further adieu, here is a quick photo-foray into my Halloween sewing adventures.

Second place. "Autumn Fairy." Yes, I PS'd myself into the woods behind my house, but the costume is real. A cheap gold dress at Ross, split and sewn with perdy fabric to look more medieval-ish, wings hand made, a bit of flair for sleeves. The leaf-berry tiara was made by splitting a small autumn wreath and hot-gluing Sparklies into the berries, and the staff...I found a beautiful fallen branch in that same woods, sanded, stained, wrapped with leaves and yep, hot-glued more Sparklies.

Because Fairies are Sparkly. And I mixed gold glitter with lotion to make my Self sparkly...because I am too cheap to buy body glitter. Oh, and the mask was Ben Nye face paint, which I already had.

Year one of the Contest. Why yes, we Had just done Cats in summer stock, and that was my inspiration. And yes, I still own that black bodysuit. And yes, it is the same black bodysuit used in the Dragon costume below. Everyone in town said I had the best "character" but I guess the costume itself didn't make the cut.

Friend Snoball was not impressed with my charade.

"Steampunk Witch." I did make the goggles. Nope, they aren't functional. Yes, that is a steampunk broom...yes, it got stolen at the bar. That's okay though, because otherwise I would've had to lug it around on tour or throw it away.

You bet I went to work like this. Calling the show in Style.
I love my SP watch. Yeah, it works.

And finally, the prize Winning Dragon. I had originally done a ton of research about adding some pyro tricks, but Mom suggested I contact the Fire Dept before I started throwing fireballs downtown. I did, and he was amused but understandably concerned, and suggested I go another route for my special effects. Good call, Mom, good call.

This is a collage of the Process. Little red lights behind the red-glass eyes made them glow. Ooooo. The crystal staff also glowed when I pressed a button hidden in the extra mache "wood."

I feeeel PReeettty!!!

FYI: That red fabric on the wings? A real pain in the y'know'what to run through a sewing machine. Add sewing in uncooperative wire "veins" and you have project that you definitely don't want to start last minute. Not that I ever did that.

Quick Shot

2010-02-12T09:11:00.001-05:00

My thoughts are lagging behind due to being struck down by what I'm pretty sure was a case of food poisoning on Wednesday night. So today is a short but (I hope) sweet Photo Friday.

Below is a picture I took when Sis and I and her friend Tina visited Scotland several years ago. These are The Callanish Standing stones on Lewis, which you can reach just a short ferry ride from the Isle of Skye. I hung around for hours waiting til sunset to get this photo, and then I had to wait until other tourists were behind or exactly in front of the stones, so they wouldn't ruin it. (Even though you aren't supposed to walk near the stones.)

I took it back when I still used a camera with Real Film! And I learned, before anyone told me, the Fuji film is generally better for landscape (picks up more blues and greens), whereas Kodak is better for people (more pinks and warm tones). Interesting, eh?

Don't Describe Your Characters?

2010-02-10T08:14:00.012-05:00

"What's that, darling, a poem? '...quiet, virtuous MWF seeks - WHAT?!'"

PSssst I changed things around! Like?

Happy Writer's Wednesday, all! For those of you who aren't writers, well, here's a peek at the agony and the ecstasy.
I subscribe to fantastic almost daily newsletter called the "Daily Kick" by fantasy author David Farland (I mean, Wow! He takes time out of a busy and prosperous writing life to give advice and knowledge to us/me struggling to get higher. Very cool.)

But.

A couple of times now, I've seen a 'top ten' list floating around the internet, of the Top Ten Rules for writing. That sounds so harsh. (Of course, as I scoured my inbox this morning, I couldn't find the whole thing) And once again, I found myself taking issue with statements by older wiser Published writers. I think it's dangerous to call anything a Rule, unless it's y'know, don't use swear words in a picture book (unless that picture book is 'Watchmen'), or use crisp, short sentence with proper punctuation (unless you are the next Faulkner), orrrr don't describe your characters in detail.

Wait, what? Yes, that is one rule that made me blinkety-blink. Let me say I do understand the intent behind it. I understand that you want to keep things moving, that you don't want an Information Dump. You also want the reader to be able to stand inside the character's shoes, so it might be safer to have a vaguer description. However, there are exceptions. There are so many successful exceptions that I pretty much sputtered aloud in disbelief when I read that "rule."

Don't describe your characters in detail?

Goodbye, miss O'Hara's apple green eyes and tiny waist. (At least I'll be able to identify with her more).

Goodbye Quasi's hump. Although, I feel ya with the scoliosis, man.

Goodbye the Monster. (From Frankenstein.)

And Harry Potter's scar, glasses, and particularly messy hair. And Ron's red hair, for that matter.

I mean, I could search and put down a million examples, which is why I take Issue with that rule. I think it could be better said, "Don't Dwell on your character descriptions." Or keep them Neat and quick. But "Don't describe your characters in detail?" In the quest to find comfortable Everymen and Everywomen, we are dangerously close to losing the precious detail that builds worlds, that makes us fall in love or pull away or look, morbidly, closer. Rather than follow that suspiciously authoritarian Rule, I prefer to study the masters. (My Masters, the writers of fantasy, of course):

Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs. He was a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife. Mounted on his huge black destrier, the knight towered above Will and Gared on their smaller garrons. He wore black leather boots, black woolen pants, black moleskin gloves, and a fine supple coat of gleaming black ringmail over layers of black wool and boiled leather. Ser Waymar had been a Sworn brother of the Night's Watch for less than half a year, but no one could say he had not prepared for his vocation. At least insofar as his wardrobe was concerned.
His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin.

--From A Game of Thrones

In less than a paragraph, George R. R. Martin provides us with loads of glorious information about a character who dies two pages later. (Sorry if I ruined it, but get used to it if you start his books). Not only that, but it's only on page 3, so you know exactly what kind of ride George is has strapped you in for. By reading about his clothing alone, you get a tremendous amount of information. That description of being graceful and slender as a knife has stuck with me almost more than any other description in his books, and I'm on to number four.

It is so simple, quick, poetic and pointed, you sail right through a hefty amount of description before you realize that yes, indeed, the plot is still moving forward. Some people can't do that as effectively, and I think that's why the Rule came to be. Treat your descriptions like poetry: every word matters. But don't take that Rule as an end-all be-all. Rather, take it as a warning.

If characters now, what next? Don't Describe Landscape, so your readers can feel like the story's in their back yard? Goodbye Middle Earth, Hogwarts, New York, Chicago ('cause so many novels take place there) and Pern. I, personally, want to get to know new characters. I want to see new landscapes. I want to know what everyone and everything looks like so I can go somewhere new. I want the writer to tell me their particular story, about their particular people and places, and I will figure out how it relates to me.

So, write on...freely, bravely, and without apology.

That's what this rule makes me think of.

***

Very. Use this word sparingly. Where emphasis is necessary, use words strong in themselves.

--From Strunk & White's The Elements of Style

Tuesday Review: The Lightning Thief

2010-02-09T07:38:00.008-05:00

Buon giorno! Unless it's after three when you read this, in which case, buona sera! As you can see, the time has rolled around for yet another review. Last week we did a movie, so this week, we're doing a book! Thrilling, isn't it? Yes, yes, never a dull moment, no two days the same here at Jess of All Trades.

But enough of that.

I'd seen these books for a long time in the store, and I love love love Greek mythology, so I thought, "I should read those. At some point." Well you all know how those to-do lists go. Anyway, when I saw previews for the movie coming out, I decided I should definitely read at least the first book before I saw the movie. So here goes.

Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson and the Olympians:
The Lightning Thief.

Things I Loved:

The concept. Not only does the hero (Percy aka Perseus Jackson) learn that the Olympian gods are real, alive and still working their mischief in the modern day world, but his mentor (I'll leave him as a Surprise) explains that the gods Move. They follow the ruling western power, because theirs is a democratic ideal. I thought that was a very cool idea. So of course, in "present day," when the ruling power is the United States of America, where else should the gods reside but Mt. Olympus, 600th floor of the Empir State Building. Neeeat.
The gods. Waiting to see how each god would reveal him or herself, what human form they would take in the modern world - it was cool. Ares was definitely a favorite. I would probably keep reading the series just to see what all the gods looked like. Bet you didn't picture Posiedon as a middle aged but regal beach bum in bermuda shorts, didja? Me neither.
The Humor. Oh my word, these books are funny. In one scene they behead a certain monsteress of legend, who currently runs a statuary shop (bet you can't guess who). They have nothing to do with the icky head, so they finally wrap it in a bunch of merchandise bags that read, "Thank you for your Business." That's funny.
Underlying mysticism. The book is written lightly, with a male teenage voice, and mostly they're scrambling to survive, but there are moments of Wonder and heightened language. Few and far between (see Dislikes)... but it Is the modern world. Valor and wonder come in different forms.
The action scenes... were simply inspiring, because it's a weakness of mine. Need action? Study this guy.
Remembering Greek myth. If you know your myths, you'll be able to say 'uh oh' halfway through any scene. If you don't, you'll learn, pretty accurately, about many gods and monsters.
The way magic works in the modern world. Need to summon Iris, rainbow messenger of the gods? Make a rainbow. How? The pay-per-minute carwash hose, of course.
The teenage struggle. Even once Percy discovers his roots, everything is not sunshine and roses and not just because of the bad guy. The children of Ares prove to be unsufferable bullies. Can't trust the children of Hermes much - and even the gods, as in the original myths, don't actually get along. The world is still brimming with danger, discomfort and challenge. And that makes for a good read. For a kid who doesn't like to read (or thinks they don't), this might be a less intimidating dive into the habit than, say, Lord of the Rings. So buy it for a boy you love.

Things I Did Not Love:

I will say starting off that most of my critique of the book comes from the fact that I am not the target audience. I think the books are perfectly within their realm as fiction fodder for young to teenage boys. However...

The language is pedantic. Riordan does a Great job of capturing the voice of a twelve year old boy. So that's good, if you're a twelve year old boy. If you're a twenty-seven year old woman, there are times it's grating to listen to a twelve year old boy tell a story for however long it takes you to read the book. Because he did so great in other aspects, I think he could have slipped a little more poetic language into kid's heads without them noticing. But that's a personal preference.

Despite my complaint about the Voice, the book is a page turner. It's fun, it makes me curious, and while there isn't the deep, deep character development and struggle you would find in an adult high fantasy... well, it's crisply written teenage struggle. Even from the aspect of wondering about his missing father who doesn't seem to care about him. So what if he's a god? (The scene when they meet is very cool, but I'm not going to give it away.)

Actually, that might have been it as far as critique. Because of the way the book was written, I don't think it will suffer as a movie. That is, you won't miss the writing, because the writing is bare bones enough (although I think it is deceptively Very Good Voice on Riordan's part) that it will translate well into imagery. Even though by previews alone you can tell that they changed a lot. Hopefully it will make kids hungry to read the books because once you find one book you like...well, you'll go find others.

Official review wrap up: I will be reading the next books. So that should tell you everything you need to know.

I think this movie poster is a gorgeous homage to the original book cover.

The Little Voice and the Pond in the Valley

2010-02-08T08:24:00.006-05:00

Happy Monday all! And I don't think I wished everyone a happy February, way back when it started, but now I am.

Two quick topics today, because I'm working an earlier than usual shift. The first is what I like to call, "The Little Voice." It's the one that, when you're in the grocery store, says, "You should pick up some soda." Then you don't because it's not on the list, then you get home and find out your husband/wife/room mates/whomever decided to invite a bunch of chums over, and now there's nothing to drink.
It's the little voice that says, "You should get gas at This station." And you don't, because you're sure that there will be another station five miles up the road. Next thing you know, you're hiking up the interstate with a gas can and your thumb out.

It's the little Voice that speaks when a flighty looking woman hands you a check and over-explains why she'll use that instead of her credit card, and you look at the check and the little voice says, "That looks like it was printed on computer paper..." ... and you should really listen.

Some call it Intuition, some call it gut instinct, some call it -- well, the Little Voice. The more you use it, the better and more useful and accurate information it will give you. It isn't a heebie jeebie function of extrasensory perception. It is your magnificent brain sending you super-accurate, on the spot information based on a lightning-fast compilation of sensory input. The process happens so fast that your reasoning mind can't catch up, and you think, "Naah."

Do you think a gazelle ever says, "Naah. There couldn't Possibly be a leopard in that tree." Nope. It runs away. (For more on this cool topic, read The Gift of Fear, by Gavin De Becker). I ignored the little voice at work twice, and I have taken two fake checks.

Listen. Don't doubt yourself. The worst possible thing that could happen is that you take care of something preemptively, and the problem the little voice warned you about will not happen.

Item 2: A splash of Tao.

Can you learn to become open and receptive, quiet and without desires or the need to do something? Being open and receptive is called Yin, the feminine, or the valley.

Imagine that there is a pond in this valley. When no fears or desires stir the surface of the pond, the water forms a perfect mirror.
In this mirror, you can see the reflection of Tao. You can see God and you can see Creation.

Go into the valley, be still, and watch the pond. Go as often as you wish. Your silence will grow. The pond will never run dry.

The valley, the pond, and Tao are all within you.

--From The Tao of Leadership, by John Heider

Sun-day Sharing: Climbing an Escalator for 10,000 Hours

2010-02-07T09:16:00.006-05:00

I slept in (woo!) first time in weeks, and I've realized that in my enthusiasm for this new blogging stuff, I have lost focus on the real mission: Actual Writing, Art, and so on. Kristin posted this the other day, and I realized how much energy I was putting toward the blog. Not that I'm going to stop writing! But I will probably scale back a little. The Schedule remains the same.

So today, because Sundays are for sharing, I wanted to put up an ooooold watercolor painting, because some of my new buddies (read: you!) I've learned, are also into watercolor. So here is this...with my philosophies to follow.

I painted this several years ago when, after completing my Associate's degree, I took a year "off." For me, that meant taking a year of art class, working at a gift store and doing a whole lot of great skiing. I could not paint something like this if I sat down this afternoon. I look at my old sketchbooks and many of the drawings in there are better than some of the stuff I do now. How is that possible?

Neglect. My favorite drawing teacher (an Australian via London, who was taught by the man who was taught by the man who taught Picasso - how many times removed is that...?) used to say that there was some sort of number you could actually calculate that would tell you how many drawings you had to make in order to draw like...well, whoever you wanted to draw like. For me, it would be this guy. Or to paint like this gal.

The problem, of course, is that the Magic Number is astronomically high. I also like the idea put forth in Malcolm Gladwell's book, Outliers, about putting in 10,000 hours. The only constant in all the great artists, athletes, musicians etc in the world was the amount of Time they put in. So what happened, that year that I was taking art classes, is that I was putting in hours and hours, and I got really good.

Then I went to college. Then I went to work. Then I went on tour. And I stopped drawing every day. I stopped doing a one or two paintings or even sketches per week. And I began an awful cycle of climbing up toward my goal whenever I had time, then, through neglect, sliding back to the bottom of the mountain. The message here?

I've started to think of goals less as mountains and more as escalators, only you're going against the momentum. You can actually make pretty fast upward progress, but as soon as you Stop -- down you go.

The athlete who says, "I will only run on Sundays," is running nowhere fast. The writer who says, "I will only write on Wednesdays, if I feel like it," might have a story in ten years. The painter who paints only when inspiration strikes, the martial artist who does not work through forms at home, actors who don't research, audition, read and improve their craft when not working, musicians who practice irregularly...these people all have fun and interesting Hobbies, but they will never be Masters.

So whether it is writing, drawing, painting, a martial art, music, cooking, or whatever you do, you must put in those hours, in succession, or you will find yourself swiftly and repeatedly back at the bottom of the stairs.

Crouching Bluebird, Hidden Orchid & Five Years From Now Friday

2010-02-05T06:31:00.001-05:00

...In which my Christmas present (camera!) pays its rent. I was cleaning house yesterday and lo, I saw a pretty bird on the railing of the deck out the back door. I thought, "That is a pretty bird. But what is it?"

At first I thought it was a robin, but the face was different; it had sweeter eyes. Then it turned, hopped, and fluttered off, and I saw a flash of blue. I felt that little swell of happiness I always feel when I see a blue bird. Then I realized he was still on the neighbor's fence. Then I remembered I have a brand new, awesome camera with a super-impressive zoom function.

I almost broke my leg sliding across the freshly swept wooden floor to grab the Camera. But it was worth it. I call him...Morris, the slightly Skeptical yet Photo-Congenial Bluebird.

The next is a picture of the gorgeously amazing Cymbidium Orchid that my sister bought for me. (She actually bought four. They were on sale, and apparently, Cymbidiums are more tolerant to varying conditions). Correction: Jenn's BBE (Best Boyfriend Ever), Dan, actually purchased two of the for orchids as an early Valentine's gift. Sorry, Dan. All my love. :D

I love it, because it looks like what would happen if a leopard fell in love with an orchid.

* * *

And since it's Friday, I wanted to do something completely fun, that I hope all of you will do too, even just for yourself. Rick DiBiasio over at The Affluent Artist (who, if you're not reading, you should begin now) once wrote about having what he called a 'Five Years From Now Party' in which all the guests play giant game of pretend.

The game? Speak and act as if it is five years from now. All the goals you're working toward, the things you want, the places you see yourself going in five years -- Act as if that is Now. I thought that sounded like a blast. (Post some on your own blog! Or in the comments. I really want to see!) So the following is a brief game of pretend, featuring some things that would be ...well, totally Nifty, based on ideas I've had, things I'm doing and things I think I want soon. There's some personal stuff thrown in there too, even though I don't Often write about that on the blog.

As weird and improbable as some of the following might seem, I have seen visualization accomplish some pretty crazy-amazing things. This is not to be confused with Wishful Thinking. These are things I might have some possibility of saying, based on actions I am taking now. So. Yeah!

Without further yammering...

Things I would love to be writing in this blog, Five Years from Now:

Oh my gosh, I had a long conversation with my agent last night, and they're talking about having me add a fourth book to Elynor's trilogy. This is nuts! I never planned a fourth book. It would be cool though, because then instead of a trilogy it could be a Quartet, or "Chronicles." Hmm.. So I'm staying up tonight (even though I'm skiing tomorrow!! Found a perfect pair of shaped skiis at the Swap) with a pot of coffee to brainstorm.

Even better, they're going to come out with some new cover art by Merilee Heyer. I think I might explode with happiness. Which will probably look a lot like me exploding into glitter and a lot of little me-s, flying around on yellow unicorns and screaming for joy. More news on that later (the cover art, not me exploding).

I finally managed to pin down some theatre buddies so that I can finish that series of intro-to videos. I waited this long to do Actor, but since I'm a techie at heart, I wanted to get through all the designers and such. Most people think Actor already when they go to the theatre. I wanted to shed some light on the lesser known professions. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you can see the very first video I made a few years ago, Here. (Gack! It's good I never went into acting.)

Anyway. Now that the savings fund has reaching spending levels, Lover and I are in debate over the Vacation Destination, but it hasn't gotten ugly. Yet. Warm vs. cold, in-country or international...I don't even know if my passport is still good. And I still haven't been on a Cruise. But all the girls and I are talking about everyone meeting up at Mom and Dad's timeshare on Kauai. I think that might be the best. A reunion, some sun, and really, there's only so much of one person you can take -- even Lover. So, the more the merrier! Might actually do a water-fall hike or skip over to Maui and brave the Road to Hana.

Speaking of hikes (sort of), I've decided that this year's 365 Photo Calender funds will go to the World Wildlife Fund. You can buy them on my real website - yes, ALL profits go to the designated charity, after I cover costs. I don't even buy myself a cup of coffee with calender money. So if you like my photos and stories, and wild animals, buy a calender. Next year I think I might add photo submissions from Other People. Oooo.

FYI: Spanish is pretty easy once you know basic Italian. I think most people would go the other way around, but hey, A te stesso è vero. (To thine own self be true).

Last but not least, I finally mastered "Hey There, Delilah," on the guitar.

* * *

That was fun. So. What will You be saying?

A Brief Taoish, Writerly Thursday

2010-02-03T22:05:00.011-05:00

Posting in the evening...'cause it's an early day.

As I'm growing more and more focused on the Writing Thing, I will strive not to overrun the blog with just writing since, after all, I still claim to be Jess of all Trades. But yesterday's post was slap-dash and half copied, so I'm talking about writing Again. Still, this one will be brief (because I know you're busy) and split (because I want to talk about two things.)
First up, Writers:

Who Are you Writing For?
Fine, Blogger. Today's font will be Extra Big. :P
I don't really mean your audience. When editors, agents, published authors and other smart people who are a few rungs higher on the ladder say things about considering your target audience, I mostly figure that is second, third, fourth and final draft type of stuff.

So my question is not who is your audience, but who are you writing for. Because it occurred to me, only yesterday, who I actually write for. I do have a general idea of age, theme, and appropriateness in mind, but when I really thought about it, and thought about audience, I realize that, deep down, if I never got published and just kept on writing for joy, it would be for two people. The first is my sister. The second is the twelve year old me. I like to think I would've read what I'm writing now, when I was twelve.

I mean, if we're honest with ourselves, aren't we all just writing things we want to read? Aside from theraputic journaling, I know I stick with books about things that are interesting and fun for Number One. Otherwise, what's the point? Money? Hope that works out for ya. Maybe because I'm a Leo, I have to write for someone; I need an audience. It helps to know you have one, at least one person, who will always be interested in what you're doing. Figure out who that person is, even if it's You, and write your heart out to create something you know they'll just love.

Chances are, others will love it too.

And... What the Heck is Tao?
I know I mention it from time to time. It's one of the ways of thinking and being that works for me. (No, I'm not trying to convert anyone, I just find it interesting). Here is part of the way Tao is defined in The Tao of Leadership, by John Heider.

"Tao means how: how things happen, how things work. Tao is the single principle underlying all creation... Tao cannot be defined, because it applies to everything. You cannot define something in terms of itself.
If you can define a principle, it is not Tao."

In other words, there Is No Spoon. He goes on to say that Tao cannot be defined, but it can be known. It can be known through having an open, present mind, by being aware of what is happening.

The following is a mental image that works for me, to define the idea of Tao in action: Walking through the jam-packed mall on Saturday. If you are standing still, you're blocking the way, not moving, not working with what is happening. If you're shoving through, you're working too hard and ignoring the paths that yield themselves to you more easily. But if you make steady, continual, mindful progress forward, you'll find that you'll see the open spaces and drift into them, not stopping, not shoving, moving smoothly with the present moment.

And that, I think, is as useful a skill as anything else in the world.

Writer's Wednesday...

2010-02-03T07:58:00.005-05:00

...Due to an unforeseen but Severe Case of Working-late-then-staying-up-late-to-watch-the-new-White-Collar... Writer's Wednesday shall temporarily by rescheduled to Thursday. (So. Tomorrow. :D )

Until then, I leave you with these wonderful words:

Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don't feel I should be doing something else.

-- Gloria Steinem

For some reason, Blogger wants this part of my post to be in really small letters. Can't..fight...

And the following, by the master Ursula LeGuin. This is typed word-for-word...I am not attempting to steal it or claim it. I just think it's solid, clear, always timely advice. And I nearly did a backflip the day I learned she had written a book on writing. So without further adieu, Ursula LeGuin, from her book, Steering the Craft.

Opinion Piece on the Passive Voice

By Ursula K. Le Guin

Passive constructions, such as those used in the sentence presently being read by you, are far too frequently employed in the writing of academic papers and business correspondence, and those whose efforts have been to see this usage reduced are to be commended.

But I find that many people who yatter on about banning the passive voice don’t even know what it is. They have confused it with the verb ‘to be’ (which grammarians so sweetly call “the copulative”).

“There are three great oaks on the road to Doomthorpe.” This is not a passive construction. I think it has a fancy name, but I’ll just call it the There-is construction. Many verbs are more exact and colorful than the verb to be, but you tell me how else Hamlet should have started that soliloquy. It’s a good idea not to use the There-is construction excessively; for instance, the sentence above might be stronger as: “Three great oaks stand on the road to Doomthorpe.” But there is nothing inherently wrong with There-is, and there are good reasons for using it in the right place.

And none of this has anything to do with the passive voice.

“A hole was dug in the ground by gnomes.” Passive.

“Gnomes dug a hole in the ground.” Active.

“It was proposed that the motion be tabled.” Two passives.

“Ms. Brown proposed that the committee table the motion.” Two actives.

People often use the passive voice because it’s indirect, polite, unaggressive, and admirably suited to making thoughts seem as if nobody had personally thought them and deeds seem as if nobody had done them, so that nobody need take responsibility. Thus the passive is beloved of bureaucrats and timid academics, and generally shunned by writers who do want to take responsibility. The cowardly writer says, “It is believed that being is constituted by ratiocination.” The brave writer says, “I think, therefore I am.”

If your style has been corrupted by long exposure to academese or “business English,” you may need to worry about the passive. Make sure it hasn’t seeded itself where it doesn’t belong. If it has, root it out as needed. Where it does belong, I think we ought to use it freely. It is one of the lovely versatilities of the verb.

* * *

And of course...

Nice. A shaggy, all-purpose word, to be used sparingly in formal composition. "I had a nice time." "It was nice weather." "She was so nice to her mother." The meanings are indistinct. Nice is most useful in the sense of "precise" or "delicate": "a nice distinction."

-From The Elements of Style

I think George Carlin did a routine on the word "nice" once. And I love that they call the word "shaggy." Totally awesome. Okay, that actually wasn't a bad Writer's Wednesday at all. Just stolen.

Had to add that. Click here to make biggah. Thanks, Dad.

***

Tuesday Review! Disney's The Princess and the Frog

2010-02-02T08:03:00.004-05:00

All right, it is week 3 and time for another review. I think I'll just alternate between books and movies, so no one gets neglected. Up this week, Disney's bold attempt to get back to its roots: the beautifully animated, all singing, all dancing, totally Disnified Princess and the Frog. I was tempted to forego my easy-to-write and easy-to-read list for this, but it's just so gosh darned...well, easy. So here goes.

Things I Loved:

It's all out Disney. It's everything I loved about Disney growing up, and what I'm not ashamed to admit I still love. It's magical, charming, and funny, and gorgeous.
The art is sumptuous. It has a unique look to it but you can tell that they really went back to old school style. Just about everything is hand drawn. I wanted cry. Just beautiful.
It's set in Fricking New Orleans. What a fantastic idea. They don't let down either. I was afraid, after what we saw in Mulan, that they would skimp on the scenery. Nope. I was lucky enough to visit the Big Easy for my first time before Katrina, and it is an otherwordly place. The whole art and story team really captured it.
The characters. The strong female lead (more on that in dislikes, though *gasp*)
Favorite character? Ray, the firefly. He's goofy, but sweet, and wise, and even though he's a buck toothed, backwoods firefly, I have a soft spot in my heart for animated Cajuns.
Hm..um... where was I?
The Villain. He's just cool. His song is spooky, colorful, like Mardi Gras meets the Devil. I mean, I cannot emphasize how Perfect the colors and the animation choices are for this setting.
The white girl. That's right, I said it. Everyone made such a hoo-ha about Disney doing a non-white "Princess" (I guess Jasmine, Mulan, and Pocahontas weren't dark enough? Sorry if this offends anyone, but it's my blog, dangit). ...but despite all, and my nervousness, they did make it a fair movie. By that I mean that the girl who is the MC's friend/ employer, is not wicked. She's fluffy, silly, (hysterically funny) and has some mixed up priorities, but she is kind. And I liked that.
What else did I like? Hm hm... well, that's not everything, but that's enough. You should see it.

Things I Did Not Love:

...that everyone was so excited about finally seeing a more diverse Disney movie, a strong young African American woman to be a role model and fantasy figure -- who then spends 85% of the movie as a frog. Hmmm. I know animals are more appealing to children than adults are (it's true! Because kids can't identify with adults) -- so a girl trying to figure out how not to be a frog is way more interesting to a six year old than a girl trying to start her own restaurant. But after all the fuss, it was weird.
The apologetic nature of some of the songs. After about the third 'work hard, control your own destiny,' kind of song, I wanted to say, "Okay, Dis, we get it. You're sorry that you made Princesses who waited around to be rescued..."
...Except I don't think the Disney princesses were ever all that bad. Especially the recent ones. So what if Belle ended up marrying the Beast? She was still strong. Nala could kick Simba's butt any day. Mulan? Sword. Pocahontas? Despite her skanky clothing, even in the painful sequel she made her own decisions. And she could talk to trees. (Take that, Avatar). So stop apologizing, Disney. I want fairytales. I want magic. I'll tell my girls (when I have them) about real life.

...that was actually it. I thought it was a fantastic return to traditional animation, and I really hope that Disney continues on this path. I remember how much I looked forward to the Next Disney movie whenever they started to advertise. It was a staple. How would they handle This fairytale? ...then the fairytales stopped coming. It really was a loss. But I think they can come back, and keep it up. This movie proves it. If you missed it in theatres, pop it into the DVD player of the biggest TV you can find, get some popcorn, and relive the Magic.

***

To Thine Own Self

2010-02-01T07:54:00.006-05:00

Monday Monday!

Today's general philosophizing (wow, no squiggly red line...and here I thought I made up a word):

Compartmentalizing Your Soul.
This is a completely selfish post...but I need some advice.

What the heck does that mean, anyway? When I began college, I was certain I wanted to be an actress. Or a writer. Or an artist. I knew I had to pick a prong from my creative trident that would 'support' the other two interests. They were too important to be left as hobbies on the wayside. Funnily enough, I've made a living from theatre since I graduated (though I moved into Stage Managing instead of acting. Best choice ever. You can read about it here.) But, having done that for almost ten years, I started to feel the restless shifting of my other two voices. Particularly writing, because my writing is getting better. (I know it's getting better, because it's not very hard to be much better than I was when I was seventeen.)

So I'm on hiatus from theatre to pursue writing, because The Theatre, much like a squalling toddler, is not something to which you can commit just part of your time, energy, and passion. It doesn't matter if you're the prop person, designer, director, actor, or stage manager. If you care at all, you must be there 120%. (That is an actual number that I made up just now, based on calculations of body-mind-soul ratios). And I care too much.

The bottom line? No theatre while I seriously pursue my writing career.

So I moved out to live with Sis in the Land of the Pines to break out of my Home-mold, and found a retail job. Because a retail job is something you can easily "let go of" at the end of the day. Except that I can't. Because I care too much.

I like to think that I balance the aspects of my life pretty well; I take lots of time to rest, play, be creative, and Work. The trouble is, I'm a teacher's pet. I always have been. I always will be. Sometimes it's funny, but it really does eat at my soul to be the new person, to be clueless, to not be perfect in the first week of work. Like a ferret gnawing at my heels or a relentless kudzu vine, the idea of making mistakes or letting anyone down is constantly on me, and stifling. (I think it borders on psychosis, actually, because I haven't even gotten what a normal person would consider real criticism.)

So I'm having trouble "letting go" at the end of the day. It sounds dramatic, I know. But then I am a Leo.

Where do you draw the line? Where do you say, "I care, but this work is not me." ...Because I want to say that, but it is me, at the end of the day. Every effort that I put into the world represents my presence here on earth, the fact that I care, that I don't want to just show up. I want to live a deliberate, whole, purposeful life, where every action is done to the best of my ability and nothing is "beneath me." Everyone at work comments on How Fast I Got Hired. Well, I want the folks upstairs to know they did a good thing.

But I can't go on tossing around at night, worried that I rung up an item at 50% off that wasn't actually on sale. That's just ridiculous.

Friends, writers with day jobs, artists-by-night.... any advice?

***

Sundays are for Sharing...Episode 2: Teaser?

2010-01-31T12:25:00.003-05:00

Some of my new writer-blogger friends have instituted the wonderful tradition of Teaser Tuesday, but since Tuesday is my day to do reviews, I thought I would do a teaser here. This is the beginning of Chapter 8 (obviously) of my current WIP, a YA Fantasy titled As the Swallow Flies.

In this scene, Elynor has just left the great city of Carthen, with warnings from a shepherd boy and a priest to beware of a beast that has been terrorizing the city. With her are the stallion Rion and a self-appointed side kick -- a wild faun named Fryx. I think that's all you need to know. I can't figure out why Blogger is double-spacing this intro...HMMm... Damn it, Jim, I'm a writer, not a web designer! Anyway, on with the excerpt.

-8-

The Beast of Carthen

A word to the wanderer: Know that just because a road is there it does not make it a good road, and just because one man has walked it with ease does not mean you will. Though most will tell you there is a wrong way and a right way, never forget there is a third choice: your way.

A turn in the road took Carthen out of sight when Elynor glanced back once again, so she only looked forward and around. Fryx walked beside her solemnly. In the earlier morning the faun had come skipping up to her to hear her adventures of the evening, and tell her his. He hadn’t seen the beast but then, Elynor thought, if he could hide from leopards surely he could hide from something larger. Rion strained at his lead rope, hungry for the grass off the road, but Elynor kept a quick pace.

The land broke itself up again, not in boulders now but higher bluffs and hills strewn with smaller rocks, a dizzying array of white and yellow flowers and tall, thin cypress, leaning and rocking like green columns in the wind near the road. Elynor breathed deeply of their fresh, bright scent and tried to admire the coloring of the bluffs – golden and white ribbons of earth, layer upon layer all stacked high.

All the while though, she waited for the beast to come upon them. It wasn’t until the sun sank low in front of her and the cloudless sky filled with orange that she heard its roar again, as loud and close as when she’d heard it in Carthen. It was following her. She stopped and turned. Fryx trembled and grabbed her hand.

“El must come, come and hide!”

“I’m not going to hide, Fryx. You can if you want to. Remember the leopard? This is same. It’s better not to run.” I hope that’s true. The priest said the creature was intelligent. Perhaps she could speak to it.

Fryx kept a tight, sweaty grip on her hand so when the beast stalked forward from behind them she was holding Fryx with one hand, and Rion with the other. She tightened her grip on the lead rope, but the horse surprised her. Rather than jerk and run he only held as frozen as Fryx, then dropped his head low, as if bowing to a king.

The beast roared again and the ground rumbled as though shaken by thunder.

“Fear me!” Words rumbled within the roar. Elynor drew a slow breath as she heard it speak again, an odd tangle of snarl and wail. “Little mortals, little earth clod. Stay and be eaten. Or run and be caught.”

It stalked up the hill with the red sun shining toward it, shining warm on Elynor’s back. She forced herself to stand straight, to watch the beast. It prowled in the high grass on four lion’s paws, a copper lion’s body. Its tail whipped back and forth and then froze, facing Elynor – and she saw that the tail was a golden serpent with the wide, wedged face of the venomous kind. For a moment her eyes wouldn’t clear up what it was up front and she realized it had two heads. One was a great coppery lion with a dark mane lit like fire from the sunset. The other was smaller, a wild ram, sharp golden horns curled and pointed. It was a beast from Elynor’s stories, from the songs, from the artisan’s paintings on their crafts. A beast from history, Elynor knew now, and named him.

“Kymera,” she said, feeling stronger, feeling she could shout to the world. But what came out was a girl’s whispery squeak. She clenched her hand on Rion’s rope. “Kymera!”

It stopped and both heads – all three, counting the serpent tail – gazed at Elynor. Baleful, ancient eyes considered her and Elynor felt as a moth must feel, one that lived only a day or two. This creature had lived centuries, longer, born in the earth as the earth burned into life out of darkness and water. It was earth, fire, wind… Elynor bowed, breathless.

“I ask your permission to pass through these lands.” Fryx freed his hand and crouched behind Elynor now, staring. Without his grip her hand trembled like a rattling grape leaf, so she tucked it behind her back. It took all her will not to run, not to scream away down the hill from this monster that embodied, in fur and muscle and flesh, all the things men feared.

* * *

Wabi Sabi Saturday

2010-01-30T09:01:00.003-05:00

Nope, that is not supposed to be 'Wasabi' (go eat lunch already!). Wabi Sabi: The Art of Everday Life, is a perspective of viewing the world through the enjoyment of simplicity, imperfection, rustic elegance, and so on.

Here's a brief quote, and some pictures (that I took...except for the skipping stone, which was my dear friend Kate - although I skipped the stone!) ... because I like them, and the words.

If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has power to move you, if the simple things in nature have a message you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive.

-- Eleanora Duse

***

Go forth, and find something that makes you joyous!

Photo Friday, Episode 2: Iconic Images

2010-01-29T08:22:00.006-05:00

I read a fantastic e-article by the incomparable David Farland in one of his Daily Kicks about James Cameron's use of iconic imagery in Avatar. In order to make the creatures and situations familiar to us and help us to empathize, we had to see certain things; for a creature to be 'human' to us, we had to see two humanoid eyes and a mouth. Nose, apparently, no so important. He used the color blue because it is one of the most popular colors in the world. And so on...

That got me thinking about different ways we use iconic imagery in painting, writing, photography and other visual/imagination mediums in order to evoke very specific responses. In theatre, set decoration, clothing and even the props on the coffee tables are all specifically chosen and placed by hand to give the audience an enormous amount of information before anyone even says a word.

So with that in mind, today's photo of the day:

...to me, evokes all sorts of warm fuzzy memories, happy responses and predictable understandings. Anyone from the United States should immediately understand this image. If not from memories of their own lifetime, then from movies and TV.

...but what if they don't? What if celebrations in their family weren't like this? Or if they didn't celebrate anything?

In that case, the warm fuzzy feeling I was striving to evoke with this image might not happen at all. Instead it might trigger remorse, regret, or jealousy. Instead of happy nostalgia, you might trigger fear of growing old. What if someone viewing this image is deathly allergic to latex balloons? Not a happy fuzzy feeling at all. Or afraid of fire? Or thinks it's really strange that I would have cheesecake as a birthday menu item, on a black plate. Then they're distracted and the image's story goes to the wayside.

I try to think about this when I write 'for' an audience...or draw, or paint, take pictures or (amateurishly) compose music on the piano. I've read a hundred articles arguing whether or not to target your audience, how to do, what to think about in order to create the right mood and story. I suppose you have to assume some things, or you'll bend over backwards trying to end up being something Universal, and end up being nothing at all. Masters of their craft usually have such powerful control over their medium -- their word, color, or line choice is so specific -- that most people will have the same understanding about a work of art or piece of writing. But many won't. Sometimes that's why people consider a piece 'successful' or not.

That's why art is such an important and fascinating part of the world and the human experience. Everyone sees it through their own lense, colored by their own life journey, pains and joys.

Art doesn't tell us about the world.

It tells us about ourselves.

Give me two hundred people in a movie theatre, and I'll give you two hundred people who saw two hundred different movies. --Rick Reichman, at the Flathead River Writer's conference