Bucket List

My long-time friend from all the way back in college recently had the opportunity to be a balloon handler in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. She was part of the crew that led the Kool-Ade man. Pretty cool. She said it was something on her Bucket List and she felt good about crossing it off. Soon, a friend is taking off for a cross-county adventure. He’s relieved himself of his worldly possessions and will heading west to see what there is to see. I don’t know if that is on his Bucket List per se, but it sounds like something that should be.

Image from
homeimprovementbasics.com

So I started thinking; what exactly is a Bucket List? What are the criteria for something making it onto the Bucket List? Are these items things you really, really want to do and actually work toward doing? Or just stuff you’d like to do if you can? If it’s the later, then that’s more of a Shrug List. Are the things on the Bucket List fluid? For example, if I wanted to climb Mt. Everest, but now it wouldn’t be possible for whatever reason, can I take it off the list and replace it with something else? What if I don’t complete my list before I kick the bucket? Does my child have to take on my list? Do I spend time in purgatory watching others do those things? But I digress.

For me, a Bucket List consists of things I’d really like to do, fantasize about doing, dream about doing and try to plan toward. It is fluid and it changes with my personal circumstances. There are several items that were once on my list that no longer make the grade. Others I’ve accomplished and they’ve been checked off. For kicks and giggles, these are ten things on my list.

1.      Get a Mustang convertible GT (done and I recently totaled it)

2.      Build a house (done)

3.      Have a family (done)

4.      See every state (I’ve seen a good number of them already)

5.      Learn to tat. I should say, learn to make Irish lace.

6.      Take an Italian cooking class – in Italy!

7.      Be a published author (revising my first novel!)

8.      Ride on the Orient Express

9.      Complete my family tree/history (working)

10.  Travel – see South America, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, Iceland

 
What’s on your list? Let me know.

Thank You Clarence!

Unless you live under a rock, then you know that today is Thanksgiving. This is my favorite holiday because it is a universal holiday. It doesn't matter your faith, your background, or anything else. It is simply the day to pause and be thankful for what you do have. I am thankful for my family, my friends, my fixer-upper home, and all the opportunities that come my way.

photo by LeeAnn Rhoden

Yes, I am cooking today. Sort of. I cheated by getting a pre-cooked rotisserie chicken from the store (I don't like turkey), but the rest of the meal I'll be cooking - mashed potatoes, gravy, squash medley, and stuffing. I made pumpkin spice cake from a recipe I got from my friend, Allison, for dessert and there is a cherry pie in the kitchen too. My husband surprised me with an early Christmas gift. He gave me a new coffee maker! I love it!!

The one thing I am truly thankful for is Clarence. Clarence is my guardian angel. He isn't a graceful angel. He's not the type that will prevent me from walking out in front of a bus by distracting me with a lovely pair of shoes in a shop window or serendipitously running into an old friend and stopping to say hello. No. Clarence will prevent me from walking out in front of a bus by having me trip over my own feet and spraining my ankle. Anytime something happens that is just too weird for words, I know it is Clarence doing what he does because shortly there will be a blessing in some form. Sometimes, it's hard to appreciate Clarence's methods. Sometimes I'd rather be distracted by the pretty shoes. But, alas, Clarence is just clumsy and, well, I get that.

Yesterday, Clarence visited me. I don't know if I was saved from something else that would have been catastrophic at that time, or perhaps in the near future, but he was definitely with me. It's Clarence's way. My day started out as usual - got my husband off to work, fed the dogs, got the boy up and fed and dressed. My morning was busy: going to the gym, returning a library book, going to the post office to pick up a package, going to the grocery store to get milk, ice cream, and the Thanksgiving chicken. Finally, at the request of the Little Man, a trip to Dunkin Donuts to get a donut and a chocolate milkshake.

It rained the day before. It rained all night. The roads were wet. I should have said "no" to the trip to get donuts. On the way home, Clarence came into my life. What happened? I hydroplaned in a left-hand turn, over corrected and continued sliding up onto a curb and into a tree. Yes, my beloved Mustang, my Eleanor, hit a tree. Hard. Yes, I know they don't handle well on wet roads. I know you shouldn't over correct. I know! Whatever. It happened.



Photo by LeeAnn Rhoden

How bad was it? Well, the air bags didn't deploy and the engine didn't even stop running and I had to shut it off with the key. Little Man did drop his milkshake all over the back seat and himself. He was crying about that and then suddenly very excited about the "broken car." The worst of it was I had to call my husband to come home from work. And I was extremely embarrassed to have traffic blocked by the tow truck. Oh, it's probably totaled because the front end collapsed, the radiator is trashed and the hood crumpled. I am sure there is more engine damage. Maybe it can be repaired. Maybe not. Either way, it's okay because we are okay. I don't know what Clarence's plan is. Frankly, he could've just left me a post-it note on the fridge. But the fact that no one was hurt, even the tree had just a few scrapes, lets me know that at some point, I'll see why he did this.

In the meantime, I'll give thanks for today, my family, my friends, the opportunities that come everyday with the sunrise, and for Clarence. What are you thankful for?

When Stars Die

So, I promised you something special today, and here it is!

This is the cover reveal for a fellow author, friend, and member of our critique group, Amber Skye Forbes! Her book is going to be published! Due to be released October 2013 by AEC Stellar Publishing The title is When Stars Die. It is a Young Adult Paranormal Romance. Viola Estrella of Estrella Cover Art is responsible for the beautiful cover. Way to go Amber!

 

Synopsis: Amelia Gareth's brother is a witch and the only way to save her family from the taint in his blood is to become a professed nun at Cathedral Reims in the snowy city of Malva. However, in order to become professed, she must endure trials that all nuns must face.
          
Surviving these trials is not easy, especially for Amelia, who is being stalked by shadowy beings only she can see. They're searching for people they can physically touch, because only those they can touch can see them. Amelia soon learns why she is being stalked when she accidentally harms her best friend with fire during the third trial. Fire is a witch's signature. The shadows are after witches.
          
Now Amelia must decide what to do: should she continue on her path to profession knowing there is no redemption, or should she give up on her dream and turn away from Cathedral Reims in order to stop the shadows who plan to destroy everything she loves?

Where Amber Can be Found:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AmberSkyeForbes?ref=br_tf

Website: http://amberskyeforbes.com
Wordpress Blog: http://amberskyeforbes.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AmberSkyeF
Tumblr: http://thedancingwriter.tumblr.com/

Revision *twitch*

Well, after the second edit of my novel (I'm still calling it Murder at the Primrose Inn), I sent it out to a number of betas. One came back with preliminary thoughts, two had partial thoughts, my Dad says he has "nits to pick with me" once he's finished reading it. One beta received it just the other day so I don't expect to hear back from him for a few days at least. Anyway, my friend Allison used to work in forensics and she told me that I had a serious problem with the discovery of my victim's cause of death. *gasp* So, now what?

Revision. Or re-envision. Rearrange. Re-research. Yes, it's time to correct the GLARING error by rearranging some of the events in the story. No big deal really. *twitch* That and I need to play up the sub-plot a little more and build tighter tension. Okay. *twitch* All of which can be done with the story I have simply by revising. (yeah, right, simple)

Courtesy of www.freedigitalphotos.net

Building blocks. Right now I have a big pile of blocks that are good colors, sizes and shapes. I've managed to stack them into what is some sort of structure, but it teeters. My goal is to rearrange the stack into a towering castle. It's like the movie Premonition, all out of order. Put it in the correct order and it will make more sense. *twitch*

I'm okay, *twitch* really. It's my first novel and I didn't expect to get it perfect right off the bat. I didn't expect to get it right the second round of edits or even the third without having to do revisions. The important thing is that it will eventually be right and good! And I am grateful for all of these people who are helping me to get it that way. *twitch*

Big Boy

Courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net

Courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net

Little Man turned three-years old on the Fourth of July. While the rest of the country is celebrating our Independence Day, we celebrate the birth of our son. This year was his first real birthday party. Sure, we've had parties before with grandparents and such, but this time he had friends and cake and ice cream and balloons and streamers! Okay, there were more adults there than children and we ate the ice cream. Come to think of it, we ate everything and the kids ran around and played the whole time. After all, what's more fun that hamburgers and hot dogs and beer and cake and ice cream and punch and running kids?



Courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net

Courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net

I was worried that they wouldn't have fun. I found a Pin-The-Tail-On-The-Donkey game just in case it rained and they needed an inside game. I hoped it wouldn't rain so they could play T-Ball, tennis and golf in the back yard. It rained, of course. The kids didn't care and were just as content to play with the trains and cars and blocks that were EVERYWHERE in the living room.

So, now Little Man is getting to be a Big Boy. And potty training has started. Ugh. And he's resisting, of course. But I stop and think

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about what he's learned, what all children learn, in the first few years of their lives. Amazing! In just three short years he has learned to breath, hold his head up, sit up, chew and swallow, walk, feed himself and talk. He's grown a whole set of teeth and learned where literally everything is in the house. He's learned his letters and numbers and can recognize words such as his name and anything with a logo. I believe he's teaching himself Spanish because he watches Spanish videos on my cell phone. Yes, he's learned to pull up YouTube.

Courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net

Then I wonder, because Dad usually asks me, what have I learned in the past three years? I've learned to change diapers, speak toddler, make macaroni & cheese, and to remain awake for days at a time. But nothing as amazing as what Little Man has accomplished. Perhaps we need to challenge ourselves to learn something new at least per week.

Surprise!

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It was my father's 80th birthday in June. That's a big number. So, my brother and sister and I decided that a party was indeed in order. To make it even more exciting, we made it a surprise party. This may not seem like a big deal but it was challenging. It was a surprise for Mom too. because if Mom knows, then Dad knows.


There were a lot of challenges to overcome such as travel (none of us live in the same state), schedule coordinating, finding a place to stay and venue for the party, invitations, RSVPs, refreshments and cake, keeping it a secret, and arranging Mom's schedule with her boss since it was a secret. It was a venture that would have been impossible without the aid of my parent's friends and neighbors we used as spies.

That was not the important part. The important part was that for the first time in six years the entire clan was together. For the first time in 31 years all of us siblings slept under the same roof and spent time together. For the second time the cousins were able to play together. It was a gift that we were able to give our parents but also each other.

Mixed into all this, was a sad happening. My father's sister, his last sibling, passed away just days before the party was to take place. After much questioning whether we should cancel, postpone, or continue, we made the decision to carry on as planned. Not because we're callus, but we thought the best thing we could do for Dad at the time was to show him that his family has expanded to children and grandchildren who love him and the startling number of friends who respect him.

My mother gave me a word. Bittersweet, she said. I liked the word because I like to explore the Yin and Yang of language and life. Yes, it was bitter that Dad's sister passed, but it was sweet to have his family and friends around him. It is bitter that we, as siblings, have moved to different states and get caught up in our own lives and families and forget that we have each other to lean on. But it was sweet to gather together once again and perhaps getting together is something we should do more often. And moving on from siblings to our own families is bittersweet but the way of life. Perhaps that's the real surprise.

What Is It?

Photo by David Castillo
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Ever been thinking about someone and suddenly they call? Or have you ever been somewhere you don't normally go and run into someone you haven't seen in a long time? It happens to me all the time. We call it coincidence or serendipity.

Paraphrasing my 1980 American Heritage Dictionary, coincidence is a series of events that appear to have a relationship and serendipity is the ability to make lucky discoveries. Personally, I believe that there's more Fate involved than events just appearing to be related or just luck. But then that's me. I prefer serendipity because it is active - you do something - whereas coincidence is passive - it happens to you. Serendipity is also more fun to say.

Recently, through coincidence, or serendipity, or fate, I have reconnected with an old friend, made a new friend and have met someone who volunteered to help me with editing my novel! Throughout my life coincidence, serendipity, or fate, has played a major role in bringing into my life wonderful people and experiences including my husband and if I go back far enough even the fact I exist is due to serendipity on my parents' parts. And that holds true for all of us.

William Shakespeare
www.biography.com

Authors use serendipity in their writing to move along their storyline. The detective who stumbles upon that important clue, the heroine who meets her knight in shining armor or her finds her perfect career or her magical gift. Shakespeare wrote an entire play using coincidence, A Comedy of Errors. Which you must see performed to appreciate the physical humor.

How has coincidence worked in your life to move your storyline? What do you believe? Is it Fate? Coincidence? Or Serendipity?

Spring Break?

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www.freedigitalphotos.net

Here in Augusta, Spring Break coincides with The Master's Golf Tournament. Schools release and families flee the area to get away from the traffic. Some will rent out their houses for a little additional income. Having lived in the Orlando, FL area for close to twenty years, tourist traffic is of
no consequence to me. In fact, the "traffic" that these people refer to is NOTHING in comparison to Orlando near the theme parks.

What Spring Breaks means in our household is that Little Man is not in school and I have him for the whole week to entertain and keep busy and out of trouble. We have found a ton of things to do. Our week started with a play date with a new friend for both him and me. It was great fun to see him run and climb with a new
playmate! For me it was equally fun to talk with a mom who is closer to my own age, ahem, over
thirty-five. Even better, we share a similar background - being transplants to the area, growing up in the northeast, having been teachers, stay-home-moms now, later-in-life motherhood.


Courtesy of feelart
www.freedigitalphotos.net
 

It's Master's Week so the area does provide a number of fun activities for the residence who have stayed and, of course, the visitors. The park down the street from us is hosting concerts at the amphitheater all week. Yesterday during the day was Family Fun Day and we walked up to play on the rides and see the activities. Last night we chose to stay home and watch the fireworks through the trees from our driveway. Or, as Little Man calls them, boom stars.


Courtesy of nappasinw
www.freedigitalphotos.net
 

This is also attempt number 3 at potty training. This time I'm using the pants-free-zone method utilized by my sister-in-law. Yes, there have been a few accidents, but not many and not bad. He is at least making the connection between what he's doing and needing to be on the potty, even if it is an after thought. Little Man won't be 3 until July, and his school next year - which requires him to be potty trained - doesn't start until August so I still have 4 months to get it done.

The crown molding arrived so we can do more work on the redo of the dining room and on Saturday the dumpster comes so we can tear out the over growth in the yard. Yes, I will have to go outside. But I'm looking forward to the yard, at least the front yard, looking better.

It hasn't seemed like much of a "break" but then again, it has been fun. And by the end of the week, we will have accomplished more than I expected too.

What about my writing, you ask? Well, I'm still on break from Murder at the Primrose Inn before I start my editing. I am rereading the novel I have going with Emily and Bill and the psycho stalker (still untitled) so I can get back to writing it again, I have organized my writing notes and calendar and future ideas (even making notes on a novel that is germinating but still a ways away.) And editing for a couple of friends. I will finish those up before the dumpster comes. Enjoy your Spring Break!

I Don't Sit at the Cool Table

Growing up we moved around a lot. We finally settled in a small town when I was in 4th grade. Seems early enough to settle in but it was one of those small towns where unless your parents were born there, and you were born there, then you just didn't quite fit in. It doesn't matter to an adult because adults have other concerns that take precedence to fitting in. To a kid, however, it can be consuming.

As a result of being an "outsider," I didn't get to sit at the cool table in school. I did have lots of friends that ranged across the strata of high school society. I had band friends (even though the extent of musical ability is to recognize that music is playing), geek friends (even though I wasn't quite as smart as they were), motor head friends (mostly because my brother was a motor head and they had awesome muscle cars), derelict friends (even though I had ambitions) and even a jock or two (mostly males needing the answers to Mr. Sullivan's English Lit. test). The cool kids, especially the cool girls, excluded me.

Life went on and I went to college, got married, got divorced, had success in several career paths, made a lot of good friends, owned my own home, bought several cars, got married again, moved around a bit, had a baby, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah. In all that time, not being a cool girl didn't bother me or matter. Oddly, the social media phenomenon of Facebook has reconnected some of us as friends as adults.

Still, there lingers that background insecurity of not being quite good enough to be cool. This insecurity resurfaced the other day at my son's school when the cool moms were gathered in the parking lot. These are the moms with the coordinating jewelry and make-up. Their workout shoes match their cashmere hoodies and the piping on their yoga pants. They gather in the parking lot near their Escalades/Suburbans/Expeditions to arrange a Zumba/hot-yoga/pilates/mani-pedi/coffee get together. Our children are friends, but I am not cool enough. At least that's what it felt like when their conversation stopped until I'd passed by them.

Truth is, I've got a good 10 - 15 years on these gals and I don't fall into their generation. And even if I were to be invited to the Zumba/hot-yoga/pilates/mani-pedi/coffee get together I'd probably turn it down. Really? Zumba, hot-yoga, pilates? I can't do that anymore! I'm, um, over thirty-five! I'm not the mani-pedi type either. Coffee? Maybe. As long as it's not organic or low fat. Besides, my muscle car could put their SUV in the dust. Wanna have some real fun ladies? Let's hit the time track!

I know that these sub-surface insecurities have in some way driven me down certain paths or caused me to put I extra effort to try to be an over-achiever. That's not a bad thing. I have to wonder what childhood situations may have affected my characters' personalities and given them an underlying impetus to their actions as the adults I write about. Should I include a FULL biography, to include childhood, as part of their back stories? Does it matter in the end? And all of my characters are cool, even if I'm not.

Intimacy

Today's lesson is on intimacy. No, I'm not talking about sex so get your minds out of the gutter and turn off the TV so you can learn something. I'm talking about the true meaning of the word intimacy, what it means to be intimate.

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Intimate adj 1. Marked by close acquaintance, association, or familiarity. 2. Pertaining to or indicative of one's deepest nature.

American Heritage Dictionary, 1980

Intimacy is something that exists between people who have been friends so long they can finish each other's sentences. It is the husband who knows exactly how much sugar and cream his wife likes in her coffee. It is the mother who knows what to do to comfort her baby. It's the father knowing just how high to toss the ball so his son can hit it with the bat. It's knowing yourself and knowing the other person, or people, in your life deeply. It is the connection that binds.

I don't think I truly understood what it meant to be intimate until my son was born. I had experienced intimacy before with best friends, my husband certainly, even a few co-workers, but until I held my son and realized I could recognize the difference between the "I'm wet" cry and the "I'm hungry" cry, I did not know what intimacy really was. Intimacy is important. It is what makes us feel connected to each other. It keeps us in a family, it provides comfort and it is healing.

While writing my novel I discovered that not only do I have an intimate relationship with my character (duh, they are my characters) but they have intimacies between each other as well, and different levels of it at that. And for my characters to become as real to a reader as they are to me, I have to show their intimacies so the reader can become intimate with them too. I will give an example of what I mean in an excerpt from the rough draft of my novel, Murder at the Primrose Inn (working title but it's growing on me). It is a scene between Walter, Colleen Disantis and her co-worker Darryl Johnston.

     "That was horrible," Walter groaned over his slice of pizza. He really wanted to wash it, and his cross examination, down with a beer or two.
       "I told you to watch him," Disantis said picking the pepperoni off her slice and patting the oil off the top. "You did fine, all things considered. And, in the end, you pulled it back out of the shitter."
       Darryl vigorously shook the parmesan cheese over his piece of the pie and picked up Colleen's discarded pepperoni. "You did okay. I would have come off the stand and decked the guy."

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Colleen and Darryl have worked together for so long he is comfortable picking up her pepperoni and she doesn't care that he does. That's intimacy. I like their dynamic.

My goal during the editing and revision process is to look at the way the characters have intimacy with each other and with themselves as well. I hope that will make the readers feel as close to them and their story as I do.

That's Really Really Good

Little Man is two-and-a-half which means he has learned to express himself but he has not yet learned to tamper his words. In short, he is honest. Brutally honest. Right now, in his world of black and white, things are either good or bad. When he experiences something that he likes he enthusiastically says "That's really, really good!" But when it is unpleasant he says, "Oh no, that's really bad."

Now it's one thing to be at home and have him express his displeasure at the dinner I slaved to make for him. (Here's your spaghetti and meatballs, Sweetie! Oh no, that's really bad.) However, it's nerve-wrecking to take him out. The other night we were having dinner at church. They were serving meatloaf. He takes one bite, looks at me, and opens his mouth to express his opinion. I cringed. What would he say now? Out loud, in public, at church?! Ready? "That's really, really good." (Swipe brow). My blood pressure dropped dramatically.

This started me thinking about what we teach our children. Right now he's honest. And nothing he says is out of malice. I remember being 3-ish and making an observation about someone (he's fat, or she walks funny) that was not meant maliciously. I remember my mother telling me "don't say that, it hurts their feelings." And that's when it started. I felt bad about myself that I might have made someone feel bad about himself and maybe when people say something about me I should feel bad about myself and I should feel bad about making them say something bad. If you can follow that at all. All I'm saying is that we teach our children to obfuscate what they say (lie) and at the same time crumble their self-esteem because they said it or because someone said something about them.

The result is a bunch of hyper-sensitive people who take everything too seriously, believe every word uttered is a judgment on them, and they try their best to not hurt others by speaking some form of Political Correct speech. Which is "unspeech" which is "double plus ungood." To counter balance all this negativity we create "sensitivity programs" and we give every child a trophy for showing up. Wouldn't this be better - "Mommy, that man is fat." "Yes, Honey, he is. Let's talk about it at home." And really, if you are fat, is it too hard to acknowledge it? Perhaps the sensitivity training needs to be reversed and we need to teach people to not be so sensitive.

Okay, I'm not on a soapbox, I have a point. My point being that with my novel almost done (yay!) I have embarked on the editing process with a couple of friends. I have revisions I want to make already but I'm beginning to get nervous about what they will say. I recently sent back the edits I did on their work and I find myself hoping I didn't hurt their feelings, or insult them or their work. I have to remind myself that any comments I made were not made in malice but in honesty to make their work better - in my opinion. And that any comments they may make about my work is not disparaging but a way to make my work better - in their opinions. The whole point of having others help you with your editing is to take your work from "oh no, that's really bad" to "that's really, really good!"

How do we know each other?

It’s that time of year again - time to update the old address book. This year it is more than just updating, I have to get a whole new book and start over from scratch. Nooo, I didn’t lose all my friends and/or family, I just ran out of room. Nooo, I’m not so greatly popular that my book is full (although that would be awesome). But after a few years the old address book is in bad shape.
 

First, the physical condition is embarrassing. I’ve had this address book for a number of years and it has been beaten up, the pages are tattered, the tabs have pulled off and my Little Man uses it as a coloring book (Mommy blue!). I have an unnatural attachment to things sometimes and this is something I’ve had pre-baby and pre-husband. I guess in some way it is an artifact of my single life (and yes, there are names of past boyfriends in it too).

Second, it is not just that the pages are tattered and that the tabs have been pulled off that make the interior unsightly. There are a lot of original entries, crossed out entries, additions, crossed out additions and cross references to other entries added and/or crossed out that it takes an expert cryptologist to decipher what is written on the page and what is actually up-to-date information. Fortunately, once the tabs fell off I was no longer restrained by the alphabet and I could put entries anywhere there was room.

Why all the editing? Because life is constantly changing. People get married and their names change (most often if they’re women), people get divorced and their names change (again, mostly women), the spouses have to be added or subtracted, they have kids that have to be included, they move, they get new phone numbers, cell phones, and email addresses, the kids move out or get married, or sadly, sometimes people pass away. Then there are those entries that I have no idea who those people are. And with each change there is the asterisk (*) denoting the reason of the change or commentary. For example:

Jane and John Smith  Doe *she finally dumped the jerk

123 Main St. *she got the house
Anytown, GA
Mary and Tommy (the kids) *hope the bum pays child support

So, I find that it is now time to get a new address book and to start anew; rewriting the entries cleanly and clearly as the current state of affairs exists, leaving out those that have been removed from my acquaintance for whatever reason (or who I don't remember) and leaving behind those that have passed away. It is simultaneously refreshing and nostalgic.

I recently printed out what I have completed writing of my novel (I’m about two-thirds complete!). I know I’m still writing and I should wait until it is done before I start the editing process, but I couldn’t resist the urge to read it. I did resist picking up my red-teacher-correction-pen from my teaching days to edit (or slice and dice) what I had. That will happen in good time. And just like my address book I will make additions, cross things out, and I’m sure people (characters) will pass away (be written out). And once all is said and done, I will probably rewrite a lot of my novel. I expect the editing process will be as bittersweet as getting a new address book.

Or, Do You Say It Like This?

Res-o-lu-tion n. 1.The state or quality of being resolute; firm determination. 2. The act of resolving to do something.*

*The American Heritage Dictionary 1980

Or is it Re-so-lu-tion n. 1. The act of responding to a deficiency, again.**

**LeeAnn Rhoden 2013

The year is ending and a new one is about to begin. And with each turn of the annual calendar, many of us make New Year’s Resolutions. You know, “This year I’m going to work out four times a week,” or “I’m going to home cook all my meals and eat healthier,” or “I’m going to watch less TV and read more.” Uh huh, right. We may start out with good intentions and go like gang-busters throughout the months of January and February and possibly into March but then…

 

Then comes the warm weather and the kids are out of school, you go on vacation, it’s time to do yard work again, house guests come, you still have to get to your job, bills need to be paid, vet appointments, doctors’ appointments, that surprise maintenance item hits on the house or car or both, football season, autumn and outside winterizing, and with each thing that comes up it becomes easier to put off that trip to the gym, order that pizza, and flop on the couch with the remote control at the end of a busy day. Suddenly it is Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and we arrive right back where we started and what do we do? We make resolutions! Yes! “This year I’m going to work out four times a week, I’m going to home cook all my meals and eat healthier, and I’m going to watch less TV and read more.”

I don’t make resolutions. Why on earth would I tell myself how inadequate I am and that I need to change, sorry, improve? I have enough outside people telling me that. Doctor: “You should lose weight and eat better. It will be good for your blood pressure and cholesterol.” Mother: “You should get your hair done and get some new clothes.” Husband: “Honey, did you have a chance to do the laundry?” Little Man: “Mommy, poop.” Dogs: “Kibble again?” And really, aren’t the resolutions we make for ourselves the very things that fulfill the way others want to change us? I mean sure I’d like to lose weight but I don’t see how going to a gym is going to help me do this anymore aerobic housekeeping is. And I already cook pretty healthily. I guess I could go vegan or eat raw but, yuck. As far as reading more and watching less TV, perhaps. Will any of these things make me happier?

The last resolution I made was some fifteen years ago. I resolved to get organized. It worked! I had a place for everything and everything was in its place. I lived out of a day planner (still do not that it means anything). I would not go to bed until everything on my list was done. I had a laundry day, a shopping day, an errand day, a cleaning day. It was great! I love structure! And while I was single I could keep my life organized and scheduled down to the minute. I’m married now to a spontaneous type of guy. “Hey, let’s run over to the big-box hardware store,” he casually says. Inside I turn to ice and go immediately to my day book. Is it errand day? Did I forget to put something on my list? Can I squeeze in an impromptu trip? What will have to get bumped? How long will we be gone? What if this leads to another trip? And let’s not forget the Little Man who has his own schedule and agenda. And everything has a place but nothing is ever in it. Chaos! Am I happier? Absolutely.

For me, resolutions rarely work. A leopard cannot change its spots any more than I’m going to eat raw food. Personally, I think the best resolution you can make is to know yourself and to accept yourself for who you are.

So, what does all this have to do with writing? When writing our characters, we should take the time to get to know them. What is their backstory? Who are they? What do they believe? What do they think about themselves? Politics? Favorite flavor of ice cream? How do others view your character? Does your character accept himself/herself or does he want to change? And is it merely a want to change or an actual resolution to change. How does that work out for him? Interview your character. Write his biography. The more you, as an author, know about your character the better your writing will be. Remember, they are real people too with all the same quirks, idiosyncrasies, insecurities, and desires to be happy as we have.

 So, Happy New Year and happy writing!!

Friend Me

Technology and social media has made it possible for people from all over the world to connect with one another. It’s an amazing thing to be able to email, text, tweet, Facebook, Pinterest, instant message and let people know what you are doing and what you are interested in at the very moment you type it into your tech device. But the question that has been haunting me for several days is: are we really connected?

Initially, I was going to make a comment about Christmas cards in contrast to mass tweets/texts/emails. After all, it is that time of year. I was going to be a little snarky (love the word Allison!) and voice my opinion on how these methods of communication has made us lazy. After all, why put in the effort to individually let people know you care when you can just send a mass email? And by sending mass communications we have lost our individuality and become a collective and anonymous thus less important to one another. Really, when was the last time you sat down and wrote a letter to someone? And then I was going to bring it all back to the characters in my novel and their relationships to one another because I am writing a novel and I want people to read it when I’m done.

But in light of the horrible tragedy that took place on Friday the question of connectivity is even more important. Are we really connected? What we do with all our postings is outreach which is nothing more than marketing really. We are offering ourselves, our interests, our thoughts, our goings-on to the public at large. “Look at me! Look at me!” But do we ever really reach out? When was the last time you had a real conversation with a friend over coffee or lunch or sitting on a park bench? Or offered to help someone on a personal level?

We will eventually have the conversations about mental illness, gun control, community values, computer games and security procedures. That’s just great. But ask yourself why these things didn’t happen thirty years ago with the frequency they do now? What was different? What did we have then that we don’t have now? I suggest we had real connections with each other.

So this holiday season, while you are tweeting where you are eating your holiday feast and pinning the sweater your Great-aunt Fanny knitted for you, try to take some time to have a real conversation with an old friend or a new one.