Category Archives: Family

Print books are dead!

Posted in Books, Family, Opinion, Polls, Reader, Writing by

“Print books are dead, Mom,” said my son in a recent phone conversation. Lest you think this mother raised a fool, Daniel is Dr. Lewis, with a PhD in English, and teaches that at college level. He loves books. He begged me to teach him to read at the age of three.

Daniel and his wife, Sarah, in Ireland.

But he’s also a member of the first generation to be raised with video games, which led to personal computers, CDs, DVDs, cell phones, DVRs, and eReaders . He’s fully ensconced in the digital age. As my son says, “Digital is faster, easier, and cheaper.” I can’t argue with that. I have a Kindle and I read a lot of books on it.

That’s not to say I don’t still love the feel of a “real” book in my hands. And I confess that print books still seem more substantial to me. More important. As I said in a previous post, once again I’m dependent on public library borrows for most of my books, and though they have access to some eBooks through Overdrive, most of the books I’m looking for are not among them.

So print books are still very much a part of my life. But are they a part of yours? Will print books be less important to the current generation of children and mere old-fashioned curiosities to the next? What form do you favor now?

I’ve taken a poll on this topic twice before, so let’s update again. If you’re reading this through email or a blog reader and don’t see the poll, PLEASE click through to vote.

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While I was away

Posted in Family, Real Life, Travel by

Thank you all for visiting my blog last week while Christa was in charge. I was mostly unavailable because my mother and youngest sister were visiting from Indiana. And now I’m sick, so today I’ll just share with you some photos I took while we showed them some of the glories of living in California. Enjoy.

Our first stop was Monterrey Bay, where we watched the sea lions, gulls, and boats before we ate lunch.

Pride of Madeira at Old Fisherman's Wharf.

Pride of Madeira (echium candicans) at Old Fisherman’s Wharf.

One of the whale watching cruise boats.

One of the whale watching cruise boats.

Next we drove down to Carmel, where I plan to move just as soon as I win the lottery. :-) The April sun was warm, the wind chilly, but the sand was light and fine as sugar.

Carmel River State Beach

Carmel River State Beach

We ended our coastal experience at Pacific Grove. The wind was even stronger and colder here, but the view was fabulous. I really need to live by the ocean, people.

Lover's Point

Lover’s Point

Another day we went to Yosemite National Park. My mother had been there before when my father was still alive, but she only vaguely remembered that.

San Joaquin Valley

Starting the drive up. A San Joaquin Valley view, north of my town.

Three ladies about to slide into the valley at Oakhurst!

Three ladies about to slide into the valley below Oakhurst!

Yosemite Valley

The majestic Yosemite Valley

Next we viewed Bridalveil Falls. First from a distance and then up close where the wind blew the falls into their full veilness.

Bridalveil Falls from a distance.

Bridalveil Falls from a distance.

Bridalveil Falls up close.

Try keeping dry when the wind billows the “tulle” as you stand at the bottom.

South Fork Merced River

South Fork Merced River

We ended our visit to Yosemite with a picnic beside this river. It was warm and sunny and perfect. In the same week, I spent time at my two favorite places: the mountains and the ocean. I’m not a hiker, swimmer or surfer, I prefer just to sit quietly and commune with nature. There wasn’t much time to do that on these trips, but maybe someday soon. At least we had homemade chocolate chip cookies—with pecans!

A quick lunch on the way to the airport.

A quick lunch on the way to the airport.

Too soon the visit was over. My mother is 89-years-old and I doubt she’ll make another trip out here, so I’m happy we had this opportunity to take her to some beautiful places. Plus, she loved the cookies. :-)

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Hexaflexagons are better than whines

Posted in Family, Real Life by

I wrote a different post for today, but it was really just a bunch of whining. Yeah. Who needs that? I’ll get back to you when I’m in a better mood. So, change of plans. Yesterday was Wednesday—in case you didn’t know. And Wednesday is an early-release day at my granddaughter Emily’s school, so I pick her up and bring her to my house.

We usually do a craft that involves her designing and me burning my fingers with hot glue. And sometimes we have a real tea party, but with doll dishes. One of these days she’ll be too old for that, so I never say no when she asks for one, which she did yesterday.

She also showed me something amazing on YouTube, as she often does, so I’m sharing it with you. Enjoy.

That Weird Afterglow

Posted in Critique, Editing, Family, Fiction, My Books, Novel, Real Life, Writing by

Two days ago, I celebrated twice. Friday was both my wedding anniversary and the day I finished the first draft of my untitled sequel to The Brevity of Roses. We celebrated the first occasion with a movie (not good) and a dinner (excellent). I celebrated the second with a huge sigh of relief because I took so dagnabit long to write that draft.

Yesterday morning, I went to my computer to check email, blogs, Facebook, etc., and then that weird afterglow hit me. Yay, I finished the book! Darn, I have nothing to write today.

Instead, I did laundry and made liquid hand soap. Then I started clearing the clutter I’d let collect around me for months. Today, I’ll continue working around the house to keep my mind off the lost feeling that comes from not writing. All the while, I’ll try to avoid conscious thought about the book.

In a few days, I’ll sit back down and open that file again.  I’ll start at the beginning, reading one chapter at a time. This will be a light edit—first I’ll deal with the comments I left myself during writing. Then, I’ll fix typos and punctuation errors, clarify meaning, and correct any inconsistencies that no doubt occurred because I worked on this a full year, and it’s risky to rely on my memory.

The next step will be to send it to my alpha reader, who is an excellent writer and strong in the areas I’m not. After I get my alpha’s notes, I’ll revise and follow that with a deeper edit. Then, I’ll put my little baby in the hands of a few beta readers. (If you volunteered, please remind me.)

I’ll have much more work to do in the coming weeks, but I’m trying hard not to get stressed about that. I’ve done all this before, so I know I’m capable.  I’d like to work on the cover in my breaks from editing, but I need a title first. I might already have one. Might. Just in case not—I’m still listening, Muse.

Well, that’s the state of my writing affairs. May whatever state you’re in be a great one.


Image courtesy of Idea go / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Oh, the places I go when I’m not writing

Posted in Family, Fiction, Inspiration, Music, Writing by

I had a blast this past Saturday night and you’ll never guess where. Neither you nor I could have expected me to say I went to an AC/DC tribute band concert, but that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t go as a closet AC/DC fan. I didn’t just happen to drop in. I didn’t do it on a dare. I went as a mom. My oldest son is a drummer, and Fuse Box is his latest band.

It’s always exciting to hear, and watch, him play, but he’s always been in bar bands that covered 80s-90s rock songs. And though his personal tastes were often harder than the music those bands played, I don’t remember him talking about AC/DC. Nor did I ever expect to see him play in front of such a large crowd in a concert venue.

Besides being a proud mom, I enjoyed the show. I was familiar with more tunes than I knew, they sounded great, despite the singer not having a voice all week because of a cold, and once again, I wondered why music is not as big a part of my life as it used to be.

I guess the answer to that wondering is that I write now. The only music I can listen to while I write is classical. Anything with a lyric distracts me. Anything with a beat has me chair dancing. I used to listen to music in the car, but I don’t drive much nowadays and when I do, I usually prefer silence because I’m thinking about what I’m writing.

Besides not having enough music in my life, I really need to get out more—I’m sure I’ve said that before on this blog. Not that I plan on writing about musicians, or concert, club, or bar goers, but you never know when you might see a person who sparks a fascinating character or overhear a conversation that your writer’s mind transforms into a terrific story.

I’m not saying we should cruise high-crime areas or engage in any other dangerous activity, but it never hurts to stretch a little, to toss your net into new waters to see what you catch. That advice is for myself as much as anyone. Fiction writers need imagination, but if we expect others to relate, we need to base that fiction on real life.

Okay, as you probably expected, I’m going to share a short video clip with you—short because I had no idea how long I could record on my phone. Next time, I’ll record at least one whole song. And, of course, they sound better than my phone picks up. Rock on.

The fear and psychedelia of “vacationing”

Posted in Dream, Family, Movies, Real Life by

I’m “vacationing” from my virtual life this week. Where I live, this is the last week of vacation before the school year begins, and I’m being visited by granddaughters. By the end of this week, I’ll have seen four of my five, and spent considerable time with two of them. With those two, it’s serious craft time with one and movie time with the other.

Fortunately, nine-year-old Emily uses the glue gun herself own now, which is a relief because I can’t get within two feet of one without decorating my fingers with burns. She always packs as much color as she can into a project, so after we watched the fourteen-year-old Adrienne’s movie choice, Yellow Submarine, Emily crafted the peacock below. Adrienne went with this psychedelic mushroom.  Hmmm … yeah.

Unfortunately, among movie girl’s other choices this week have been The Mothman Prophecies and then a documentary titled The Eyes of the Mothman. I enjoy watching them, but I regret it when I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I am not fond of the dark. I have an active imagination.

I can’t blame my recent series of nightmares on Adrienne though because it started before she arrived. So far, I’ve had one where the whole world has gone mad and blood-thirsty people are at my door. Another where I’m in charge of a baby who is not really a baby and I’m rushing to get it somewhere, but every direction I try to go is flooded.

I even had a dream I haven’t had in twenty years. You know, one of those high school stress dreams. This time, I sensed that I was essentially homeless, but had been staying in this house with a couple of old women I didn’t know. It was the first day of the semester, but I had no idea how to get to the school from this house. I knew I was going to be late, so I would have to report to the office when I got there, but I couldn’t remember where that was, and then I realized I didn’t have my class schedule.

Yeah, I’m stressed about finishing this WIP. Specifically, I’m stressed because I’m unsure about the final scenes I planned.  So, I have a baby, that’s not really a baby (it’s nearly a full book), and I’m pushing to get it to the end, but I’m flooded with alternate ideas. These assaults on my original plans seem like madness trying to get in my door. And I’m suddenly in a place I didn’t plan to be, trying to get to where I’m supposed to be, but I’m late, unsure how to get there, and I’ve left my schedule (outline) behind.

How’s that for a “vacation”?