Category Archives: Real Life

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Strawberries and Sandals

It’s that lovely time of year when strawberries are ripe. Until I moved to the San Joaquin Valley of California, I’d never had such delicious—or huge—ones.

I try to stop at the field stands a few times during each season. And then I make sweetened shortcake and whipped cream and we have a meal of dessert—a child’s dream. Spring is a perfect time for child-like behavior. Spring is a child, don’t you think?

On Sunday, my family celebrated the twentieth anniversary of our Kaitlyn’s birth. I can’t quite wrap my brain around that because she’s my granddaughter. Today, is my third son Joseph’s birthday. He claims he’s thirty-eight, but that’s impossible. Since everyone else is clearly lying about their ages, I’ve decided  to be forty-five this year. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Anyway, if you know me, you know I never wear shoes unless forced. As I started to leave for the party on Sunday, I realized I had forgotten to put on glasses and shoes. Unfortunately, I stopped off at my darkened closet before I retrieved my glasses.

Confession: I’m a clutterer. I have a shoe rack, it’s mostly empty because either my shoes are wherever I stepped out of them or piled in front of the shoe rack. So, on Sunday, in my haste and blurriness, I simply slipped my feet into sandals lying next to each other. Obviously, I’m oblivious. This is what I left the house wearing.

Yeah. I did. When did I notice? After I came home.

You know that absent-minded professor stereotype? Does that apply to writers too?

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Two fences, three dogs, and one literary journal

It’s a holiday weekend, so I’ll keep this post light and breezy—like Spring. Speaking of breezy, it’s been more than breezy on this side of the valley lately. Unfortunately (for every reason except shade), we have two gargantuan sycamore trees in our back yard that love to drop sizeable limbs on our roof, so it’s been a boomrattleshake month.

Last month, we had a real guster that took down our ancient privacy fence. How weird to see our neighbors’ back yards. I grew up with back yards separated by waist-high wire fences. Neighbors had no outdoor privacy. They spoke to each other, which was good or bad depending on the neighbor. Anyway, we have a bright new six-foot high board fence now. Fort Lewis is secure once again.

The strong new fence comes at a good time because we are dog-sitting three dogs for the next week. Three. 3. The dogs are a family, so at least we don’t have to deal with canine territorial wars—though I suspect our cat is planning a bombing mission. When our Lizzie was still alive, we had two dogs in the house when we sat for our son’s dog, but three is a first. Let’s hope I survive this adventure.

If you were around here in January, you may remember that I announced Vine Leaves Literary Journal had published a vignette of mine—without the last line. The editors apologized, of course, and promised to reprint it in the next issue. Well, that issue is out now, and it’s a lovely mixture of vignettes, poetry, artwork, and photography, so check it out here:  Vine Leaves Literary Journal, Issue 2.

Happy Easter, however you celebrate it!

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Writing without writing

Suddenly, I have more writing to do than I can handle. I don’t do well with too many choices. Nor do I fair well in crowds, and right now, there’s a crowd in my head. With so many voices yapping at me, I can’t hear any of them. I have no choice but to resort to drastic measures.

I’m cleaning my house. It’s March, so let’s say I’ll be Spring cleaning, not trying to make up for Winter neglect. Will an uncluttered, dust free, organized house result in a clear mind? Let’s hope so.

I know how this works though, this purposeful distraction, so I’ll be ready to take notes. If I’m lucky, by the time my house is clean I’ll have worked out the beginning to this story, the end of that one, and the muddy middle of a novel.

Oh yes, there’s also yard and garden work to do. Who knows what writing wonders will surface? (With or without alliteration.) Let the writing … er … cleaning begin!

Dare I vacuum the cat?

Tell me: Does all the writing in your head every overwhelm you? What helps you silence those too many voices? Or, if you have the opposite problem, what helps you fill the silence?

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A fifteen minute craze … or maybe just crazy?

What you’re about to read is a fifteen minute stream of consciousness. From my mind. Scary, huh? Timer set. Okay, go!

I’ve been listening to Adele’s “21″ endlessly tonight, which has inspired a great scene for my next novel. I’m getting so anxious to get back to work on it, but I really feel I need the discipline of sticking with this short story writing for now. I have a feeling I may be putting together the most eclectic collection ever.

I was thinking about the word craze today, as in trend, fad, or as my mother would say “all the go”. What set it off was seeing someone’s smile today … or rather being blinded by someone’s smile. What is this craze for unnaturally white teeth? I don’t get it.

Of course, I’ve been craze guilty myself. Not so much lately, but I certainly remember my Twiggy-look for a while in high school.  For a brief time between Twiggy and Flower Child, I had a fling with Preppie, but only because I was trying to fit in. LOL … as if.

I gave the crockpot a try today. Followed a recipe and everything, which is not like me at all, but after eight hours, the roast wasn’t done. We ended up having breakfast for dinner. Two hours later (the upper time limit) the roast still wasn’t done. Left it in for another hour, and we’ll have it for dinner tonight. Crockpots hate me.

I’ve made the decision to try the Kindle Select program for The Brevity of Roses digital version. That means, in part, that I’ll soon be offering the ebook FREE for two days, so stay tuned. I’ll need your help.

Oops, timer went off.

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A Thumb Tale

Once upon a time, a right thumb decided to balk at opposition. When forced to do so, it screamed in protest. Because management kept forgetting that, said thumb caused the loss of a steaming mug of tea as well as a mishap with a cool glass of Riesling. And I would be remiss if I failed to mention several distressing encounters with various doorknobs, kitchen tools, and weighty books. Actually, the daily frequency of incidences of opposition have only now become apparent to management.

Notification to management: Until this errant right thumb mends its ways, please utilize its sinistral twin for all opposition duties.

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I have to tell you seven things

I’ve been a rather lazy blogger lately, haven’t I? I wish I could say it’s because the Muse graced me with 50,000 words on my WIP, but such is not the case. Among other things, I’ve been busy with the Super Secret Project, researching book marketing options, and dealing with cell phone problems. Only one of those was enjoyable.

A couple of weeks ago, Lynn Davidson honored me by giving me the Versatile Blogger award. I’m sure she thought I forgot about it, but I didn’t. At that time, I had just blogged about two other blog awards and thought I should wait awhile to announce another one. So, thank you for the Versatile Blogger award, Lynn!

One condition of this award is that I’m to pass it along to 15 other bloggers, but since I so recently passed awards on to 13 bloggers, I’m not going to honor that condition this time. The other rule is that I have to reveal 7 things about myself.

It seems I have no trouble talking about myself on this blog, so it was hard to think of seven things I’d not already revealed. Never fear. I’d done this before, and most of you weren’t following this blog then, so I’m recycling.

1. I hate the taste of coffee … in any form. A bad experience with a coffee cream is why I have to break open every chocolate in my box before I put it in my mouth.

2. I get anxious and irritable when I sweat. Seriously, you wouldn’t want to be my workout partner.

3.  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.

4.  I have only one lung. When I was thirteen, I had a pneumonectomy.

5.  Lukewarm food disgusts me. Hot food should be served hot. I’ve even been known to pre-heat the dinner plates.

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

7.  I’ve come this close to choking to death two times. The first time, I was about six and lingering at the breakfast 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, oblivious to my close call.

The second time, I was in my late twenties and eating pizza with my husband and another couple. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. They all looked at me when I jumped out of my chair, and I recall 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 breathed again.

There you go. I can imagine how thrilled you are that you took time to read my blog today. Why don’t you tell me something I might not know about you?

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Bluegrass, Super Secret, and Select

I’m happy to report that I haven’t posted since Thursday because I’ve been writing fiction. If you follow my Facebook Author Page you know that I was working on one of my “down home” stories, with a bluegrass accompaniment to set the mood.

That story is one I’ll include in my story collection (yes, that project is back on the table) and eventually will be part of a larger work, probably a novel in the form of connected stories. The house pictured here inspired the concept. My great-great-grandfather, or maybe his father, built that house. It grew from the original settlement, a log cabin in a little holler beside a crick. I’m imagining the stories of some of the people who called that place home.

A couple of other writing-related projects occupied me. One is Super Secret … and Super Cool. Yes, I know that’s a tease. :-) You’ll hear all about it in time, but I’ll give you a hint: it involves a new face … of a sort.

The third writing-related project was researching the KDP Select program recently implemented by Amazon. In short, authors can enroll one, some, or all of their e-books in the program to have them included in the Amazon lending program. In that program, Prime Members can borrow the book to read on their Kindle. Also, through the KDP Select program, the author can mark a book FREE for a limited time.

I think the real benefit of that option is potential sales of an author’s other books after someone downloads their free book and likes it. Since I have only one book published, this program would not benefit me now, but I’m watching how it’s working for others. So far, I’m definitely undecided whether I should take part in the future.

The downside to the program is exclusivity. While your e-book is enrolled in KDP Select, it can’t be available anywhere else—not for sale, not for free. (This refers to e-book only.) So, each author has to consider how this might affect their sales. In my case, so far, 85% of my e-book sales have come through Amazon. Since the free Kindle app is available for PC, Mac, most Smartphones, and the iPad, the KDP Select exclusivity eliminates mostly those who own the Nook reader.

So there you go, my essay on how I spent the last five days. What have you been up to?