Category Archives: Fun Fridays

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What’s up with the name?

I’m a curious person; I think that’s a given for writers. Today I’m curious about the “names” you go by: your blog name, user name, Twitter handle, email identity, whatever. Why did you choose them? What do they mean to you? Do you wish you had chosen differently, but now it’s too late to change it?

I’ll go first. My blog name: Out of My Mind is meant to refer to where my writing comes from, not my mental state. I was new to the blog world when I started mine, which I’d already determined would focus on my experiences as a writer, so it’s appropriate in that sense, but now that I’ve seen so many other thoughtful, funny, or evocative blog names, I wish I’d given my blog name more thought.

My Twitter handle: Since we’re aiming for name recognition, I tried for the obvious, but Twitter said no. So, cassidylewis is the closest I could get. What can I say?

My WordPress user name and biz email identity are the same: lindacassidylewis … surprise! For personal email I use my studioelle account, which is one I created several years ago when I worked as a part-time portrait artist and website designer. I used just my first and married names for those personas (Linda Lewis) so “Studio L” it was.

Humor me here on this Fun Friday post. What’s behind your names?

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Seventh Weekness

This is just a Fun Friday post, just silly bits about my week, so if you have something important to do, click away now. This seventh week of the year has been a little out of the ordinary for me. I gave up sodas for Lent, even though I’m not Catholic, and in the spirit of Mardi Gras I made gumbo … two days late, but still.

My "prunus persica."

Winter took a vacation from the San Joaquin Valley … no rain and temps around 70° (F). As you can see my nectarine tree started blooming.

I’m not a big sports fan … correction: I’m not a sports fan at all, but I do usually catch some of the Olympics telecasts. I saw the men’s figure skating, women’s skiing, and both in snowboarding. I sort of freaked out my husband with my knowledge of Shaun White. Trivia does come in handy at times.

The LOST episode was excellent this week. Of course, we all know Sawyer will recognize the con. You’re watching this series, right?

My husband tuned in several episodes of LA Ink this week and since we sit in the same room, I got sucked in too. Seeing Kat VonD with all her tats covered for a photo shoot was a surprise. Now, once again, I’m thinking of getting a tattoo. Of course, I’ve been thinking about it for twenty years.

Two sides of Kat.

Surely you knew I wouldn’t end this without mentioning writing. I had very little time for that this week, and it was all spent on editing my novel. I’m only a third done, so next week will be more of the same, except, instead of non-writing things, I’ll have critiquing to do for my group.

So, now it’s your turn. How about sharing some of your seventh weekness with me?


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Let’s try an experiment

It’s Friday and I feel like doing something exciting. (Keep in mind, I’m a writer and I don’t get out much.) I’d like to propose an experiment. The other day, Christi Craig, tweeted a link to a flash writing prompt. I don’t usually take prompts, but as you may have read, I’m living on the wild side now. Actually, the link gave several prompts to choose from: single words, a photograph, a line beginning.


Nothing came to me when I read the single word prompts, I wasn’t inspired by the photo, but when I read the line beginning, a scene flashed on my internal movie screen. So I typed the four-word prompt and kept going. I wrote only three paragraphs, 217 words, but it felt complete to me … or maybe that was only as far as I had the heart to take it. As is, I think it would qualify as a flash story … or maybe that would be micro flash. (You tell me … on Monday.) Although the opening could lead in just about any direction, I went dark. It wasn’t intentional; I just used what came to mind in that instant.

So, I’m inviting you all to experiment using the same prompt. Write a flash story, an opening paragraph, or just an intriguing first line and share it with us here. I’ll post mine on Monday. I think it will be interesting to see the variety of storylines our creative minds come up with. (If you come up with good piece and don’t want to risk wasting your electronic rights by posting it on my blog, just share the first paragraph or two.)

Here’s the prompt: Through the open window

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Seven true things … more or less

I have to admit it was weird not checking in daily on Virtualworld. But with my two “away” sons home, and all the preparations for and celebrating of Christmas, I really had no choice. Today, I almost feel like a stranger on my own blog. So I guess it’s appropriate that I had to think about myself for this post.

When Tricia first presented me this award, she called it Seven Secrets and I thought, No way am I going to reveal any secrets. Then, I saw that another friend, Candice, called it simply Seven Things on her blog. Recipients are supposed to reveal seven things others may not know about them. I realized that only a few of the readers of this blog know me in Realworld, and even they know me only in a “professional” way. So … really … I could say anything and how would you know if I told the truth? Actually, all but one of the following are true. And, like my friend Kasie, I decided to go with eight things … just because I could.

1.  I can’t swim. I learned to swim when I was three, but at eight, I nearly drowned and ever since, I panic in water above my waist.

2.  I have only one lung. Due to illness, when I was thirteen, I had a pneumonectomy.

3.  I’ve seen a ghost. I had smelled the flowery perfume of this entity for some time, but on this particular day I was working on a portrait when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something on the stairs. I turned my head slightly, without raising it, and on the bottom step, I could see the shoes and dress bottom of a woman (c.1910 vintage.) Too afraid to view the ghost directly, I turned my head back to the portrait and, for a moment, sat frozen before I bolted for the front door. I never told my neighbor the reason for my impromptu visit.

4.  I tend to read magazines from back to front. I’ve always done this, but I don’t know why. It’s somewhat confusing. I never do this with books.

5.  I inherited nearly half a million dollars. However, due to a personal vow, I gave it all away … to responsible charities, I assure you.

6.  I’ve come this close to choking to death two times. The first time, I was about six and was sitting at the table with my father and grandfather. I choked on a piece of bacon. I remember being surprised that I couldn’t breathe, then scared, but I didn’t alert either of them. My world started going black around the edges. The next thing I knew, the room was bright again, the bacon was gone, and my father and grandfather were still carrying on their conversation.

The second time, I was in my late twenties and was eating pizza with my husband and another couple. I realized I couldn’t breathe. They all looked at me when I jumped out of my chair, and I remember seeing the moment they realized I was choking, but I also saw their panic and knew they had no idea what to do. I had one clear thought, I’m going to die. Then, acting purely on mother’s instinct, my friend Karen jumped up and jerked my arm straight up. The force ejected the bit of pizza crust and I could breathe again.

7.  I gave my very important final report for sixth grade social studies on Atlantis. I apparently had a tolerant teacher; she gave me an A.

8.  Lukewarm food disgusts me. Hot food should be served hot. I even pre-heat the plates at my house. (Btw, I have no idea who Luke is, or why he’s so wishy-washy.)

Now, the award rules say you’re supposed to nominate other people, but I hate to put anyone on the spot. So, please copy the graphic and blog a list of seven unknown facts about yourself or, at least, share one here in a comment. I’m oh so very curious, but I just hate to pry.

And which of my facts do you suppose is not true?


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And still, you can write?!

Some of you reading this are those strange creatures I call “people persons.” By that, I mean you actually derive energy from contact with other humans. I think of you as vampires. I would be your victim. Yesterday, I was forced out of my comfort zone to spend nearly eight hours among you in donor mode.

My state yesterday morning.

It starts pleasantly enough with a trip to the library and then to have lunch with a writer friend. (I’m still not sure we figured that check right, Tricia :-) ) But then I begin a quest for some Christmas gifts. First, a stop at a fabric/craft store for three little items—the checkout line is thirty or so deep with no “10 items or less” option. Sigh.

Next stop, a trendy teen shop in search of a cool shirt for a twelve-year-old. Lo and behold, I find a parking space after only three tours of the roundabouts this upscale mall seems so fond of.  I stop inside the front doors and scan to see what looks popular. Seems to be plaid. So I squeeze my way through the maze of displays—my fashionably huge purse threatening to topple everything I pass—and sort through the racks of plaid shirts for her size. Nearly every rack has a “two-fer” sale sign, but if you’re only buying one can you get it for half that sale price—don’t be silly! So, I find a decent plaid in her size and check the price tag. What! You want me to pay $34.95 for this paper thin flannel import that will surely be a rag the first time it’s washed because who will remember to “wash in cold water, hang to dry”??? I leave the store empty-handed.

Now, back to Target for the second day in a row to get the “Ultra” formula skin lotion—the one that promises to keep my skin from looking like a mummy’s during this furnace-heated season. Did I remember to bring the bottle of “Deep” formula I bought the day before and set by my purse to return? What a silly question. Okay, just grab the lotion … oh, and those gift boxes … and yeah, those chips … wait, isn’t there something else I need? Hmmm. Maybe if I walk through the store I’ll remember. Forty minutes later, I’m in the checkout line with those first three items.

All right, off to the bead store. I need one simple thing: a two-strand silver-plated clasp to repair a necklace my mother broke while here on a visit. She left it with me two months ago and I promised to repair it “right away” and mail it to her. Ahem. So, I find such a clasp in copper, brass, and even gun metal … in silver, no. I reluctantly move over to the sterling clasps where I find only one that my mother could easily manage with her arthritic hands … at four times the cost of a plated clasp. Ah well, it’s my mother.

My state yesterday evening!

Three stops later, I’m back on the freeway headed home, my eyes are locked straight ahead because my brain cannot process another single bit of extraneous input. In between the time I get home and have to leave again to pick my husband up at work, I plan to do some editing. I sit down at my editing table and find I can’t even read, let alone edit. Instead, I sit in front of the TV, a human vegetable watching music videos and whatever else said twelve-year-old tunes in. Oh, and I watch her increase the wear to my Turkish carpet trying to learn a dance step called The Jerk.

So, I salute all of you who spend most of your days like this—out of the house—and then come home and write. I think you deserve a publishing contract just for managing to complete a somewhat coherent novel or a short story or poem collection. I’d award you a Ghiradelli’s chocolate square, but that’s the item I forgot to buy at Target.

[This post has been edited from the original by the author, appalled at her inconsistent verb tenses.]

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NO to NaNoWriMo

NoSignI do feel left out of the rising excitement for the start of NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month) but I’ll have to pass. I confess, I’ve never tried it, and maybe I’m missing out on the true benefit, but I think the intent is to encourage you to write every day, without editing.

First, I don’t need encouragement to write every day. I need encouragement to step away from this keyboard and clean my house.

Second, if your goal is to write 50,000 words in 30 days, that’s 1,666 words per day. Ignoring the fact that some might say the 666 in there means this is a diabolical plot, why does that mean I can’t edit? I write my allotted words and then stay up well past my bedtime to edit. I mean, how could I sleep knowing I might have a misplaced modifier, or pronoun confusion, or passive phrasing?

Seriously, you can do that?!

I think maybe I’m too competitive for NaNo. I’d see your meters rise and I’d be obsessed with making mine rise faster. You can write 50,000? Then, I’d have to shoot for 60,000. And if you made your goal and I didn’t … well, I’d just have to Tweet nasty things about you. So, it’s just better for all that I sit this one out.

Seriously, really, for those of you participating, may your words flow like the Mississippi.

 

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Confessions of an obsessed writer

"The Confession" by Sir Frank Bernard Dicksee

"The Confession" by Sir Frank Bernard Dicksee

They say confession is good for the soul, so I’m taking the plunge. <big breath>I am obsessed with writing. There, I said it. I decided to come clean, in hope that it might save you from a similar fate. I only hope that after you read the following you don’t gasp in horror and deny you ever knew such a depraved creature as myself.

I confess:

  1. I have learned that my multi-tasking tools developed when I had four little boys under my feet, suit me very well when I have Word, Twitter, Facebook, email, and my browser open all day.
  2. I have sat down at 7:00am to “fix this one little paragraph” and not stood up again for hours.
  3. I have made a meal out of chips, salsa, and a cheese stick (eaten at my keyboard) because everything else needed to be cooked and I was in the middle of writing a brilliant flow of dialogue and couldn’t spare the time.
  4. I have been caught up in writing when the mailman rang the doorbell and realizing it was 2:30pm and I was still in my pajamas, coughed loudly, feigning sickness, as I opened the door.
  5. I have learned how quickly you can thaw meat and prepare a decent meal after my husband calls at 4:30pm to ask what’s for dinner—and I’ve been so immersed in writing I would have sworn it couldn’t be much later than noon.
  6. I have rushed to the computer at 3am because, when I rolled over in bed, the omg-I-can’t-believe-it’s-so-perfect word to use in the third sentence of the first paragraph in the fifth chapter popped into my head.
  7. I have kept Netflix movies for two months because every time I sat down to watch one, I got distracted by a great story idea or the solution to a revision problem.

 Oh, I could go on, but I couldn’t endure the shame. If you recognized yourself as you read the above, run—run fast—from your keyboard. Stop writing NOW before it’s too late!