Mischief, Mystery and Magic

My Top Five Favorite Horror Flicks!

2011-10-12T13:00:00.000-04:00

In honor of Halloween, I decided to make a list of my top five favorite horror flicks (yes, I just repeated my title, what’re you gonna do, take a chainsaw to me?). I picked these five because, one way or another, they all really got to me. I saw some of them when I was just a kid and still vividly remember them.

Which might explain a few of my personality glitches…

Now, before you horror movie diehards get too excited, let me say one thing first. I didn’t get to watch too many movies growing up (we were too poor to pay for entertainment), and certainly not many horror ones. And now, well, with having kids, the horror movies today are just too real and gory for me to watch. That means I’m sticking to those horror movies that I remember from childhood and teenagerhood. Though I must say, there are a couple on this list my mother should never have let me watch.

So, without further ado, here is my top-five list…

1. Burnt Offerings. This movie came out in 1976 and was based on a novel written by Robert Marasco. The story centers around a family who moves into a haunted house…but this is no ordinary haunted house. Each time someone dies, the house gets rejuvenated, literally coming back to life. Bette Davis plays an interesting role in this movie and she’s great in it, as usual. There is also a character in the movie that has haunted my dreams for years. I can still remember his face, and I still shudder at the sight of it in my mind. He is Creepy with a capital C. You’ll know right away who I’m talking about when you see him.

2. The Hand (1981). This movie stars Michael Caine, whom I love. In the movie, he plays a famous comic book artist who loses his hand in a car wreck. Unfortunately, the hand cannot be found. That is, until it starts stalking people and rubbing them out. I can still remember that hand crawling all over the place. The worst part? Not long after we saw the movie, my older sister played a horrible trick on me. Scene: I was lying in bed, innocent and nearly asleep, when I heard a noise. I turned my head slightly to the right only to see a hand, and it wasn’t one of my own. I was so scared I nearly peed the bed (maybe I did, I don’t actually remember). Anyway, after some silent panicking, I started talking to the hand, trying to get on its good side. "This is my pet hand," I would say in a quavering voice. "I like my pet hand and my pet hand likes me, right hand?" My sister must have been dying under that bed. I hate her.

3. A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). This is the worst kind of horror I can imagine. You can’t fall asleep or a child murderer will kill you? That’s just warped. After watching this movie, I had a hard time sleeping, for a long time. Robert Englund was perfect as Freddy Krueger. Johnny Depp is even in the movie, if you’re interested in him. Most women aren’t, I’ve heard. Certainly not me. But anyhoo, the premise of this movie is the perfect horror story. Don’t fall asleep or you will die. But if you don’t sleep, you will die, or at the very least, go crazy. There are no options here. That’s good stuff!

4. The Shining. Both Stephen King’s novel and the 1980 movie starring Jack Nicholson, are scary scary. The psychological elements, the woman in the bathtub, the two little girls, the creepy bartender, and the isolated setting, are all perfect for messing with the false sense of safety we all carry around. Plus, you just can’t beat Jack Nicholson in that role or the fact that the movie was directed by Stanley Kubrick (who directed A Clockwork Orange, which is another scary movie, but in an entirely different way). There were so many great scenes, so many memorable lines in this work, that I don’t think you can get much better than this. I guess that’s why it’s a classic. Stephen King wasn’t happy about Kubrik’s take on his book, but I like both for different reasons. It’s okay to love both…that’s what my therapist tells me, anyway.

5. The Birds (1963). This work of art is an oldie but a goodie, directed by the incomparable Alfred Hitchcock. The movie was based on a short story by Daphne du Maurier, one of my favorite authors, and is about birds who attack people. Admit it, after seeing this movie, who cannot help but cringe whenever a flock of birds passes overhead? People today may think the movie is too old-fashioned, not enough action or blood, but that’s the beauty of Hitchcock. He can scare you without using all those special effects. Just big beaks pecking your eyes out. That’s all he needed…and he didn’t even show that. You just imagined it. That, my friends, is good theater.

Well, that’s my list. Feel free to share your favorite horror movies. I’m interested to know what modern horror movies people like, or if you agree with any of my choices. And remember, don’t move into a haunted house, lose your hand, fall asleep, be a caretaker for a hotel, or get involved with birds.

Happy Horrors!

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter: Going the Whole Hog! - Part Two

2011-05-05T14:03:00.001-04:00

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter

In Part One of our adventure to visit The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios in Orlando, Florida, I talked about riding the roller coasters, picking out wands, and drinking Butterbeer. Now onto the second half of our story...

The Three Broomsticks

Eating a Turkey Drumstick

After a busy morning, we decided to eat lunch at The Three Broomsticks. In Part One I wrote that the shortest wait was about 40 minutes, but I'm going to have to take that back. We only waited about 5 minutes to place our order (there's a glass showcase where you can view all your culinary choices). We ordered, paid, then waited another few minutes to get our food. It came very fast...and that worried me. Surely food made that quickly wouldn't taste very good. I imagined everything being lukewarm, dry, stringy, or all of the above. But, in fact, it was reasonably palatable. We were escorted to a nice table by a window (you can also eat on the patio and if you look over the wall, you'll see carp swimming in the pond below). I ordered the chicken and corn on the cob and ate up pretty much everything on my plate. Maybe I have low standards, maybe I was hungry, but I actually liked the food. It was simple, yet tasty. My husband and the kids ordered the turkey drumstick and/or fish and chips and all seemed happy with their choices. We tried the pumpkin juice, which tastes just like what you'd imagine the juice of a pumpkin would taste like. Nobody really liked it, but I'm glad we gave it a go anyway (I suggest buying only one mug of it - you can always get more later if you are strange and actually like it). Personally I think they should mix the PJ with lots of apple juice and spice it with cinnamon and nutmeg. You know, make it more like pumpkin pie than pumpkin squeezings. I could drink that...and they could dollop the same cream they use for the Butterbeer on top. Perfect!

Hogwarts

After fortifying ourselves with hearty English food and emptying our bursting bladders (well mine was bursting, but then again, it is the size of a walnut), we headed for Hogwarts for our tour and the ride, Harry Potter and The Forbidden Journey (dunh, dunh, duhhh). The sign indicated that the wait had gone from 150 minutes down to 90 - hurray! Since I could no longer see a line snaking out of the castle and back to the Butterbeer cart, I thought, Hey, maybe it won't be 90 minutes after all, more like a doable 30 or 40. And so we entered the castle with high hopes, only to discover we had to first store our backpack in a locker. If you're going on the ride, you can't have anything on you that might fly off and kill somebody. That means bags, wands, bulky cameras (like ours, so I'm sad to say I don't have any photos inside Hogwarts), and bad attitudes (unfortunately, there was someone behind us in line who didn't follow that rule). The locker was free, but the catch was that on such a busy day, they were all being used. So you had to wait for someone to come along and empty their locker before you could get one. This part was a bit stressful and annoying. The actual process of getting the recently departed locker (there's a lag-time between a person 'signing' out their stuff and you being able to take the locker) was the worst of it. The other bad part is that we discovered you can't fit some of the wand boxes into the locker - they're too long. So we had to take out the wand and store it in the locker, then place the box up on top of the lockers and hope no one saw it. We also needed two lockers because they're small and our stuff is big. But like the troopers we are, we rallied and did what needed to be done.

Hogwarts From Another Angle

Once that part was taken care of, we joined the line and actually moved quite quickly through a tunnel-like area. Yes! This was going to be easier than I thought. At one point along the way, you can choose between taking the tour or taking the tour, plus going on the ride. My six-year-old barely made the ride height requirement (which I made sure to check before we left for Florida), but they don't check you here, they check you at the point just before you get on the ride. So you could stand in line for a century and get turned away like criminals. Don't let this happen to you - check heights!

Anyway, we finally entered the true line, but from this perspective it looked rather long. Crap. At the particular spot where we met up with the line, a drink cart sat beckoning to thirsty line dwellers. If it's hot out and your line starts at the cart or even farther back, be sure to keep some cash (I'm not sure if they took credit cards) on you and buy a drink or two. You'll eventually reach water faucets, but they're a LONG way off (imagine how far back it was for those poor souls who had the 150-minute wait!). We didn't have any form of money (our wallets were in our backpack), so we settled in to wait. Fans blew misty water at us, helping to alleviate the heat, and the lines generally kept moving at a reasonably good pace. As we were walking along, we saw all the lines we were still going to have to go through (think of a giant maze with invisible walls), but we fooled ourselves into thinking, "it's not that long." And then we reached a certain point in the line and saw that it went back even farther, doubling and doubling again and again. This particular area was located in the direct sun without a sign of shade or a fan anywhere. Double crap. We already knew what we had to go through after this part because our line had already passed by all the other people way ahead of us. As we passed by them, they would look at us with sympathy mixed with a hint of smugness. Of course, this is the point at which the guy with the bad attitude started dissing the Harry Potter books, complaining about people cutting in line (they weren't), and talking on his cell phone. At that point, I wondered, "What would HP do?" Because that sun was getting hot and the six-year-old was getting cranky.

Finally, after we'd started hallucinating about swimming in mugs of Butterbeer and pumpkin juice, we reached the shaded conservatory area. It was actually even hotter here, but you could almost smell the magic as we approached the entrance so we tried hard to stay optimistic...and conscious. When we reached the water fountains, we gulped down mouthfuls of water, splashed some in our face, and hurried along to enter Hogwarts at last. The moment we entered the cool interior of the castle, I decided that the wait, while VERY long, had been worth it. Like childbirth, you forget the suffering almost instantly as you take in this wondrous world that you've seen only in the movies and in your feverish imagination. I won't give away everything that happened, but I will tell you this: You'll see talking/moving portraits, Dumbledore's chambers (where a holographic Dumbledore speaks to you), and you'll visit the Defense of the Dark Arts classroom, where you'll encounter Harry, Ron and Hermione. I couldn't believe how realistic the characters looked. In the Dark Arts classroom, something very awesome happens, so if it's a slow day, be sure to stop and listen to their whole skit and then, wait for it. I'll only tell you that it was magical. I have to say that although I didn't like the long lines, they did give you ample time to look around and take everything in. I loved the tour and kept thinking what a great job it would be to work at Hogwarts. I doubt the employees get as much free reign as I would like, but still...what fun!

Hogwarts From Yet Another Angle

Soon we approached the line for the ride. I was excited, but my expectations weren't terribly high. I'd heard good things, but I wasn't expecting anything spectacular. Even so, I was in a good mood and ready to go. On the ride, you sit four to a car so I went with my two oldest and my husband went with our youngest. FYI: If you're willing to split up, you can take another line that goes a lot faster. You just won't ride with families or friends. You'll get placed with other groups. If you're okay with that, I'd say go for it. We had a family so we couldn't split up, but I think it's the way to go if you can. You can't even see the people next to you anyway.

Next, they strap you in and off you go on the best ride I've been on...EVER. Hermione is talking in your ear the whole time - not intrusively, but to warn and guide you. To be honest, I'm not really sure what she was saying, but it didn't matter, I was flying and dodging and flipping upside down. I was encountering spitting spiders and raging Dementors and feeling hot dragon's breath right in my face. I was inside the castle, then flying out of it, down onto the Quidditch field as though I was riding my own Nimbus 2000. Hermione could have been calling me a Numpty and I wouldn't have cared. The ride was so realistic that I felt like I was truly doing everything on my own. I even lifted my feet as we soared down toward the field at breakneck speed. This ride truly made me feel like I was a part of something bigger, like a heroine in a book come to life. Of course, unlike Harry Potter, I yelled the entire way. But I was shouting with joy this time around, not from mindless terror and fear of puking my guts out.

The ride came to an end all too soon. If the line hadn't been so long, I would have rode it again and again. I LOVED that ride. Now, just to keep you from raising your expectations too high, maybe I was experiencing cognitive dissonance. After waiting in line so long, I HAD to like the ride to make up for all that suffering. I must admit, by the time we entered Hogwarts, I was muttering something along the lines of, "This better be worth it or else Potter gets it..." But I don't think it was that. To me, despite the heat and three wilting children, one of whom decided to be churlish for the second half of the wait (I'm not sure I can blame him), it was definitely worth it. I hope you think so, too. I will tell you this...my youngest wasn't too sure about the ride afterwards (it's a LOT for a six-year-old and probably a little scary, too). When the ride was over, he tumbled off it looking a bit dazed. One of his sandals fell off as he stumbled along to join the rest of us. I grabbed his sandal and his dad scooped him up into his safe, strong arms. And after hearing us rave about it, along with a little recovery time, he decided it had been the best ride EVER. That's my boy.

It was back to reality after that. We fetched our stuff out of the lockers (the wand box was still there - hurray!), then visited Filch's Emporium, right next door and full of very expensive but fun stuff to look at. Lots of people were wearing Hogwarts attire (not just the staff), which, in that heat, is true dedication. After looking around the shop, we headed outdoors to take some photos and decide what to do next.

Here Are the Cauldrons I Bought
to Bring Home (I Wish)


That's Right - Two Wands!

A Nod to the Gate in Anaedor

Beware the Power

Snow-Covered Shops

Every Flavour Beans

Chocolate Frog

We knew we didn't have much more in us, so we decided we wanted to try Honeydukes, the candy shop, as our last stop. Actually, I was the biggest proponent for it. I wanted my candy. I sent my two oldest to check out the wait and they discovered to everyone's delight a very short line (it was quite long earlier in the day). We got in after about 10 minutes (so I guess I lied again - sorry). The shop isn't as magical as some of the other places, but I'm not sure it needs to be. The candy tells its own story. Two of the boys bought giant lollipops. Two of us bought the chocolate frogs. Three of the group, including myself, bought the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. At first I thought they would taste like regular jelly beans. Wrong. While they do have some good flavors, like marshmallow and tutti-frutti, they have the nasty flavors, too! Luckily there's a chart labeling the different ones. They actually have vomit, dirt, rotten egg, earwax and bogies (we've yet to figure out if bogies means boogers, though my son says it's BAD, whatever it is). My sons bravely tried the nasty flavors and it was quite entertaining watching their expressions. I told them they could have my nasty ones to share with their friends. Mom of the Year award, you're in my reach!

The Islands of Adventure

Sadly, that was our last stop. I was loath to go, but we were tired and it was time. We really had a great day, though. Once we made it out of the park (it's a long walk back to the parking lot), we headed out of town and grabbed supper on the way home, all the while discussing our brilliant adventure. We only had time to visit the Wizarding World (only one small part of the Islands of Adventure), but that was plenty for me. I can't wait to go back when the crowds are much smaller so I can see everything at a more leisurely pace. I missed the Flight of the Hippogriff, the Frog Choir (though I did hear "Something wicked this way comes!" in passing), and the Triwizard Spirit Rally. They are first on the list for next time.

Even though there were difficult moments (intense heat, long lines, fussy kids, fussy mom, not knowing all the rules, losing kids), I don't really remember any of that. What I remember is an experience that was magical and uplifting - even the bathrooms were interesting (think Moaning Myrtle). As a writer, I can only hope that some day my work will become a similar inspiration to people around the world...an inspiration to dream big and fly high!

I Can't Wait to Go Back!

Until we meet again...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Come Explore Anaedor!

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter: Going the Whole Hog! - Part One

2011-05-04T16:56:00.005-04:00

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter

I absolutely love the Harry Potter books and movies. They capture all the wondrous things I dreamed about having and doing as a child, and still dream about as an adult, from the bountiful feasts to the castle looming over the loch, from the possessing of magical powers to the partaking in amazing adventures. So it won't surprise you that ever since hearing about Universal's new Wizarding World of Harry Potter (WWHP) theme park, I started plotting ways to get there.

Our New Pet Alligator

The Only Way to Travel

This spring, my husband and I decided to take the leap and travel during April spring vacation. The kids were old enough to lug their own suitcase and also past that age where they're getting sick every two weeks. Plus, major snowstorms were pretty rare at this time of year (though this year it appears we got lucky, seeing as how long winter has been hanging on). Lucky for us, we had free room and board while staying in Florida. My husband's mother (an excellent cook) and her husband own a cute little bungalow about an hour from Orlando, located in a 55+ retirement community. This pleasantly quiet community offers several amenities, all within walking distance. There's a golf course (of course), a swimming pool, golf carts for zipping around on (they drive them EVERYwhere, even to the Wal-mart next door, and they are awesome), sand cranes with their babies tagging along behind, horseshoes and shuffleboard, Spanish moss, palm trees, and baby alligators. I'm starting to look forward to retirement - we had a great time living the lifestyle of the no-longer employed - relaxed, yet still quite active, with lots to see and do. Sweet.

Sand Crane and Fuzzy Babies


How I Love My Spanish Moss!

As you might already know, Florida in April can be hot. When we arrived it was in the high 80s. But we came prepared for the heat. Being that New Hampshire was in the high 30s when we left it, we were dressed in pants and jackets (airplane temps are hard to predict...it was cold on the way there, but almost stifling on the way back). In our carry-on suitcases (the only way to fly - no waiting for luggage), I packed sandals and shorts on top, with easy access. We changed in the airport and headed outside to get our rental car. Boy was it hot outside! And boy did that heat feel great after a long winter freezing our buns off.

Palm Tree

Snow in Florida?

Personally I'm not a hot-weather person (I was born in Minnesota and have a healthy dose of Norwegian ancestry cooling my blood), but with each year I pass on this planet, I crave the heat more and more. That being said, when we visited WWHP on Friday (the day after we arrived), we were a bit stunned by the relentless sun and heat. Seeing the snow-covered roofs actually helped a little and the fast rides, plus drinking Butterbeer, cooled us off, too. I actually didn't really like the Butterbeer all that much - the first couple sips were okay, but after that, the taste was too rich for my wimpy taste buds (it tasted like a buttery cream soda to me). But I liked the look with lots of frothy cream on top, which gave everyone snazzy white mustaches. We bought the plastic mugs (around $10), which make nice souvenirs and can be filled with lemonade or tea for 85 cents at the Three Broomsticks or Hog's Head Pub. My husband and two of our boys liked the Butterbeer a LOT so I suggest you give it a try. Who knows? You might become a Butterbeer addict.

When we first arrived at the park at about 8:15 (it opens at 8:00), we found ourselves surrounded by a lot of cars all heading in the same direction. That being said, it was relatively easy to find our way around and not as stressful as I thought it would be - kudos to Universal. We paid our $15 (ouch) for parking and were then guided to a spot to park our car (be sure to remember what area you're parked in...we were in the Dr. Suess section). Upon first arrival (after having our bags checked for contraband food and non-H20 beverages), we got confused about how to purchase tickets. We eventually figured it out, shelled out a whole lotta dough for our tickets (we had one freebie because my husband's mom worked at Universal - it was a nice savings), then proceeded to the spot where they check your ticket (which is where we headed first and were told with 'aren't the newbies cute?' smiles, that we had screwed up).

Entrance to Hogsmeade and Butterbeer Cart

Hippogriff

After lots of walking, we finally arrived at the entrance to Hogsmeade. Hurray! It was a grand moment for me. However, the place was packed and really bustling so we quickly split into two
groups to ride the roller coasters. Unfortunately, the sign that read 20 minutes for one of the roller coasters was being changed to 35 minutes as we approached. I went with my two oldest boys to ride the Dragon Challenge, a roller coaster ride where you nearly collide with the other 'dragon' flying around at the same time. As a kid I could ride any roller coaster without any effect beyond joyous abandon. This time I felt nauseous and had trouble keeping my eyes open, so I missed the near-collision part. I also shrieked a lot, which is totally unlike me. Ah, well. Maybe next time I'll be able to stare death in the face. While standing in line, we worried that we needed to present our tickets for each ride (you don't), but we eventually relaxed when we didn't see anyone else with tickets in hand (my husband had the backpack with everything, including tickets, in it - backpacks are good to have, btw - we stowed a bottle of water and sunscreen, along with wallets and the camera). We were in shade for a majority of the 30-minute wait (actually it was like being in the underground tunnels of a castle), so that was nice. My husband and youngest son, who was too short for the DC, rode the Flight of the Hippogriff (be sure to check the website for height requirements for ALL the rides). I didn't get to ride that one, but next time I plan to give it a go. It sounds quite fun. Both of them liked it, though my husband thought it was a bit scary...for him. The six-year-old was fine.

Hagrid's Hut

I'll say this before I go on: the lines for EVERYTHING were really long (and that includes the shops). Our shortest wait was around 40 minutes. At one time, the wait time for Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey was 150 minutes (they do everything in minutes to fool you into thinking you won't be waiting forever). And a lot of time we were in the sun while standing in line. Good thing we wore baseball caps and brought along sunscreen.

Lockhart Entertains Us

After the dragon and hippogriff rides, we waffled around for a bit before deciding to stand in line to pick out a magic wand in Ollivander's Wand Shop (that's after we finally figured out where to stand). While waiting in that line with the boys, my husband stood in the Butterbeer line to get our Butterbeer. The set-up worked out quite well. While waiting, we viewed the Quidditch box and watched Gilderoy Lockhart. We even got to see the Snitch!

The Quidditch Box

The Snitch Flying Through the Sky

Ollivander's Wand Shop

When we finally entered the shop, we discovered a dark and mysterious room filled from floor to ceiling with boxes of wands. The proprietor of the shop greeted the group (in a wonderful English accent, of course), then selected a volunteer, who happened to be my oldest son. This was a great moment for him and for all of us. I was so thrilled I forgot to take pictures, which is probably just as well since I got to enjoy the moment without worrying about lighting and focusing and all the stuff that goes wrong when you're in a hurry. The skit was quite funny and filled with special effects and my son literally had his moment in the spotlight when the 'right' wand was selected for him. He hammed it up and did me proud. Very fun. Afterwards we shuffled (herded might be a better term, though they were nice about it) into the wand shop, which is connected to Dervish and Banges, and each of our sons picked out a wand. After much perusal, each selected a different one (phew). While we were looking, one kid told us that he picked Voldemort's wand because it looked the coolest, not because he supported evil. I could relate. We both agreed that evil people generally have all the best stuff and Voldemort was no exception, though personally I'd think he should have worked on getting a nose first.

While buying the wands, our clerk wondered if she could fit the wand boxes into the tiny plastic bag used to hold my postcard (I had to get at least one memento of my own). A spell was suggested, whereby the other clerk reminded her that 'use of magic' in front of Muggles was forbidden. I, of course, told them not to make assumptions about our Muggles status. Corny, yes, but most definitely fun. The crowd was all pretty much like-minded - ready to enjoy the fantastical world of make-believe and that, to me, was just brilliant.

Our visit to Ollivanders finished up our morning of fun and adventure. In Part Two I'll talk about dining at The Three Broomsticks, our visit to Honeydukes, and our tour of Hogwarts, including the ride, Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, the absolute best part of the whole day!

Until we meet again...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Come Explore Anaedor!

Authors - Build Yourself a Platform and Stand Above the Crowd!

2011-03-15T14:06:00.001-04:00

A little over a week ago, I attended the annual NHWP Writers' Day. As an author myself, I've always encouraged writers and authors at all levels of experience to get involved in your local writing community. You can learn about writing technique and how to market yourself as an author. You can network with a myriad of interesting people and hear Pulitzer Prize winners read from their work. You might also meet your future agent or publisher! Most importantly, writing conferences get you out of the house, which is essential for your average, introverted, near-hermit-like writer, like myself.

At this year's conference, I learned about the importance of generating publicity and about developing a good PGP (protagonist, goal, problem). The most useful bit, however, came from the workshop, entitled, "It's all about Platform, Baby!" on how to build an Author Platform. Catherine Blake, president of Sales Protocol International, presented the workshop, which served as a great motivator to get me working on my own platform (apparently having a sparkly throne no longer cuts it).

An Author Platform is a piece of work that presents the author's credentials and expertise (basically your strengths) along with a relevant personal story that ties into the author's life and background (e.g., after meeting so many young boys who say they hate reading, author, Mary Contrary, decided to write stories targeted specifically for these boys). Your platform is meant to convey that you know what you're doing and have the goods to make it as an author. According to industry experts, platforms are becoming a must-have, and as I always listen to the experts, I determined to build myself a platform right away (preferably out of brick - sticks and straw have proven unreliable and leave you vulnerable to Big Bad Wolves).

While it's a good idea to have an author platform, creating one isn't exactly a piece of cake. The one thing most of the attendees at the workshop struggled with was how to develop a platform as a fiction writer. We fiction writers don't have the years of experience that give non-fiction writers the expertise to write their book. For example, John Green, a Landscape Architect and avid gardener for 30 years, introduces his book, Gardening for Geeks! Obviously, Mr. Green has the goods to back him up. Personally, while I've done all sorts of things, I really haven't done anything that demonstrates my expertise in making fantasy worlds (other than that I love to daydream about ruling the universe).

Or have I?

After sitting down and working on my resume (a very useful tool for building your platform), I started to see how much my past experiences relate to what I want to do AS AN AUTHOR. I started to focus less on what I write (although there was some of that) and more on the skills that show I can do this job. My goal was to make the reader think - Here's an individual who never gives up, who has and will continue to market her own book, who can talk to people and run workshops, and who can even protect me in battle with her tomahawk-throwing skills. She's AMAZING!

Or something like that.

What I've done with my platform is different than what I've seen other authors present (visit your favorite author's web page and read their bio to see what I mean). I'm not sure if my approach works, so let me know what you think. Ideally, I'd like to strike up some conversations about this process and give feedback so that everyone can benefit.

To view my story/platform and resume, click on the link below.

My Platform

When you've learned all you can, I want you to get cracking on building a platform that will help you stand above the crowd (but no thrones, please - that idea has been taken)!

A Loaf of Bread, a Jug of Wine and a...Book?

2011-02-04T16:52:00.001-05:00

Here in New England we are getting nailed again and again with snow and wind and cold temps. So when an opportunity came up to attend a Literary Evening (from 6-9) at Zorvino Vineyards, I jumped at it. As a SAHM (stay-at-home mom to the uninitiated), getting out and about for events other than something school/grocery shopping/library-related is rare. You'd think I'd have all this time with all my kids in school full-time now, but actually I find that 'the bus is here' time arriving more quickly with each passing day.

With being a SAHM, and it being February, and a hard winter to boot, I'm ready to get out of the house. What better way to accomplish that than to do a book signing where other adults will be milling about sampling good wines and discussing fine literature and, of course, buying books. They can buy a bottle of wine and a few good novels for themselves, and then buy a signed copy of The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Prophecies to salve their conscience for leaving the kids at home. Doesn't that sound like just the thing?

I've always loved vineyards, especially after visiting wine country in California (which sounds achingly tempting right about now). But I'm always surprised at the number of vineyards located right here in New Hampshire. Such spots always seem so beautiful and relaxing to me, even in the winter. On February 11th, I can't wait to grab the hubby, my box o' books and a handful of book markers, and head on down to Sandown for a night on the 'town'. Entrance is free, there will be a cash bar and free samples of their wines, and several raffles to raise money for four local libraries. I plan to enter a few of those raffles myself...or better yet, I'll have the hubby do it for me because I'm sure I'll be getting overrun by people wanting to buy my book (one can always dream).

The reason I'm writing about this event isn't just to brag about the fact, if it doesn't blizzard, that I get to attend it (that's only most of the reason). For those of you who are aspiring to be authors or are already authors (self-published or otherwise), you have probably discovered that in this day and age you have to think outside the box in terms of marketing and selling your book. That means considering other venues for getting your book out in the public eye. Personally I think having a book event at a vineyard is a genius idea (though sadly it wasn't mine)! Even better, these sort of events are not just about you selling your book and the vineyard selling its wine, it's also about raising money for a good cause. I love libraries so any event that raises money for them is awesome in my book

So put together a plan, then get out there in your community and search out those venues that might consider doing business with you. Be sure to contact other authors you might know and you've got yourself an event! And if you happen to live anywhere near Sandown, NH, I hope to see you enjoying yourself at Zorvino's Literary Evening!

Cheers!

I've Been a Bad, Bad Girl

2010-12-20T19:36:00.001-05:00

How does one keep blogging whilst doing book signings, making book trailers, marketing one's new book, writing new books, helping coach a 5th and 6th grade boys Parks & Rec Basketball team, and raising three boys? Plain and simple, one doesn't. Well, at least this one doesn't. There's always lots of stuff going on in my life but the time to write about it has waned lately, probably because my spare moments seem to have disappeared like the hair on my hubby's head - slow but sure. Sorry to all. I've been a bad, bad girl.

If you're at all interested in keeping up to date on my writing life, I suggest fanning up on my Facebook Fan Page, or following me on Twitter.

Otherwise, I'm afraid I won't be writing much here. I've been working on a new series that I love and I want to keep writing while that passion is still alive and kicking. I can't wait to send out the first book in the series, which I plan to do in the new year.

Publishing my book, The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Prophecies, has been an up and down experience and I've been learning a lot...like how frustrating publishing a book can be (administrative/technical problems have been my biggest hurdle). But also, how great it can be. My best experiences have come from participating in several book signings and book fairs and meeting fellow authors and avid readers. People are so supportive and have made this adventure much more interesting and fun for me than I thought possible. Without them, I'd be a quivering puddle of a mess from dealing with all the things that have gone wrong (anywhere from my book cover looking weird on amazon's site, to my books going missing just prior to a signing, to my books selling out but my publisher not being ready with more).

I will say that one big thing went right. YA Book Reads reviewed The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Prophecies and really liked it! See their review as well as my interview with them. They gave me 4 1/2 Snitches out of 5! I'm so psyched and honored.

Anyway, I'm sorry to be so remiss in my blog. Please forgive me and maybe follow me on Facebook instead!

Do the Monster Smash: Yet Another Cool Marketing Tool for Authors!

2010-09-27T11:14:00.000-04:00

My publishers, Variance, who have published my book, The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Prophecies, through their imprint, BLiP, have put my book on Smashwords. Smashwords, I have found, is a great place to go for all your e-book needs. Why? Because they make your book available via a crazy number of formats. Take a look:

That's hard to beat when you want your book to be accessible to as many people in as many ways as possible. It's also hard to beat the name: Smashwords. I just like saying it.

So do the Monster Smash and get your book out there!

Spread the Wordle: Another Cool Marketing Tool for Authors!

2010-09-02T09:42:00.003-04:00

I'm back with another really awesome marketing tool for authors. It's called a wordle and can be found at Wordle.com. You can create your own wordle, using your own words, colors, and configurations. It's very simple. Here's the one I did for The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Prophecies.

The process takes very little time - all you have to do is type in the words, pick a font, pick a color and play around with the configurations (all horizontal, all vertical, some of both, etc). Once you are finished, you can save the product to the wordle site. This makes your wordle public, so anyone can view it. You can also take a screen shot (the FAQ provides a link that will guide you on how to do this) and save it for display on your website. You can use your creation to make t-shirts or posters or bookmarks. Whatever you want!

Wordle is fun and it's free! So get out there and spread the wordle. Your wordle!

A Cool Marketing Tool for Authors!

2010-08-26T10:53:00.013-04:00

Trailers - short video clips - are growing in popularity as a method for various creatives to market themselves and their wares over the internet. As an author, I decided that doing a book trailer for my first book, The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Prophecies, might not be a bad idea. I love movie trailers...well, the good ones. Why not make one for my book?

What hooks you into watching a movie? A great trailer. What's a great trailer? One that engages you, tantalizes your senses, and makes you eager to see more, more, more! A good book trailer should do the same. That's why you need an expert to put one together. Timing, too many words or too little explanation, picture quality...all can make or break your trailer.

Thank goodness there are experts in the world, because my own tinkerings often lead to computer implosion, and sometimes a threat to world peace. The company, GorKee Jar Productions, produced my trailer and I think it's pretty darn good. Here it is:

Now, if GorKee Jar Productions did its job right, you would know that The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Prophecies by author, Kristina Schram, is a fantasy book full of action and adventure and mystery. Furthermore, it should make you want to run right out and buy it. Or at least click on this link: Amazon. Or this one: Barnes & Noble. Or this one for your ebook: Smashwords.

You're getting sleepy...very sleepy.

Mother's Day Mayhem

2010-05-10T09:49:00.011-04:00

Contrary to what the title implies, I had a great mother's day. My husband and kids made me a very tasty breakfast in bed. I received flowers and cards with promises to vacuum the house and do five chores worth $20 (I think my 8-year-old has an inflated sense of his helpfulness).

For supper, my husband made beef stew, home-baked bread, and spice cake - all were delicious, by the way. He bought an expensive cut of meat, which he thought was called Agnes beef (say Angus, honey, An-gus). Really, I'd hate to think my pleasure was at the expense of a little old lady.

In short, my husband and kids did exactly what they were supposed to do for mother's day - they made me feel special. Unfortunately, I'm so used to doing everything myself, I had to force myself to walk away when my husband started making the cake using terribly inefficient techniques. I did help him out at supper time because honestly I couldn't walk away. I have issues, I admit it.

But the kicker was the dishwasher episode. Setting: Me lying in bed, relaxed, reading a House Beautiful magazine after eating my delicious breakfast. My husband has just headed into the kitchen when I hear, "OOOhhhh..." in this mournful, oh crud, kind of voice. Sensing trouble, I leaped out of bed (seriously, I did) and dashed into the kitchen. For some reason, I just knew it was the dishwasher. Maybe it wasn't making the same noise I'm accustomed to. I don't know. All I knew was that I was needed to save the day.

And then I saw the bubbles.

That dishwasher was frothing at the mouth like a rabid raccoon. My husband, thinking I'd bought a new sort of dishwasher detergent, put dish soap into the little cup (something they vehemently warn you not to do). Let me tell you, there were a lot bubbles to clean up and scoop out and wash down the sink. A lot. I'm thinking that when I start up the dishwasher again, there'll be more bubbles.

When it was all over, I told my husband he was a writer's dream, and then I somehow managed to laugh and give him a hug. What can I say? Mothers need to be needed.

Seeing all those bubbles just made my day.

The Pitch: Five Minutes to Sell Yourself

2010-04-21T15:04:00.012-04:00

This weekend I attended the New Hampshire Writers Project Writers' Day. I met lots of great people, listened to Nicholson Baker speak and read from one of his works (look him up - he's a funny guy), learned about social media and how the latest great way to market yourself changes almost daily, and most importantly, I PITCHED to an agent. No, I did not throw something at her.

Here's the deal: You get five minutes to sell yourself to a perfect stranger (I've heard that at ThrillerFest you get one minute - apparently a miasma of depression and desperation fills the room that day). Personally, I dreaded the moment. I'm not the most extroverted of people and the spoken word is not my forte. Having stopped wearing a watch, and unable to find the one I usually bring for such events, I stayed too long after lunch chatting to a new found friend and had to hurry over to the right building. Of course I was the first to do my pitch, so I had no time to go to the bathroom beforehand. And of course I had food in my teeth (luckily, I discovered this afterward, and luckily it wasn't noticeable - I hope). Basically, I was freaking out, and I had to go.

Luckily for me, my agent was great and helpful and didn't bite me once. But let me let you in on a little secret. If the workshop coordinators tell you not to bring a manuscript, don't listen to them. Bring it (or at least the first 3 chapters). You may never do anything with it (and don't force it on the agent), but at the very least, you can hold your query letter in front of you for comfort, and consult it if you forget where you are, who you are, and what the heck you're doing here in this scary place.

I learned this little trick by reading The Mysterious Benedict Society (great book for kids, BTW). The children are told to bring only one pencil to take a test, but one character, Constance Contraire, brings 37. Borrowing a book from Constance's page, I brought along the first 3 chapters, a synopsis and a query letter. What did I have to lose? Nothing! The agent asked for a sample of my writing and lo and behold, I had one! Most times I'm a rule follower, but sometimes, you've got to take the initiative, break some rules, stir things up. Who knows what will come out of this? Maybe nothing. But as Elvis always says, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

In sum, when doing a pitch, be prepared for any contingency. Keep a copy of a writing sample (preferably the first three chapters and a query letter) in your bag, just in case. Bring a watch and leave yourself time to go to the bathroom to do your business.

Oh, and note to self: Next time, avoid eating baked beans for lunch.

The Little Red Building on the Corner

2010-03-08T10:37:00.001-05:00

For several months now I have been intrigued by the little red building on the corner. Day after day, I've seen workers coming and going, and vans and utility trucks driving in and out, busy as bees. The building is quiet now, yet I can tell work still continues inside, and I wonder is it ever going to be finished? And when it is, What's my little red building going to be?

My imagination hasn't exactly run amok with mad ideas, but it has conjured up a few scenarios:

*A cozy cafe/bakery where I can eat lunch or drink a pot of tea and write down delicious story ideas full of quirky sparks and warm bonhomie. On weekend evenings they will offer live entertainment and my husband and I can sit and enjoy a bit of adult, quiet time without having to drive a half hour to get there.

*A new and used bookstore where I will find secret books full of magic and wondrous adventures. Where they have open mike night and I can read my terrible poetry. Where I will meet the eccentric owner and discuss Camus.

*A unique boutique full of wonderful, imaginative clothes just my size.

*All three combined.

Just about every day I drive past the little building and the wait to see what it's going to be has me feeling both frustrated and wonderful, as though I were on an adventure. I want the journey to end, yet I don't. I'd like to get going on acting out my fantasies, you see. But then again, what if I ask and I find out my mystery building is merely going to be someone's house? That would be a very sad day indeed - well, for me, anyway. I'm sure the owners wouldn't agree. Or maybe the building is a
business that sells snow blowers. From the beginning, an orange snow blower has lurked on the porch like an ugly gnome. Are the owners already advertising? Egad, I hope not. I cannot eat pastries on a snow blower.

My little town is great and living here feels like an honor. But I would love to see a special place where people can gather and watch other people going about their lives, where they can talk and eat good food, where they can laugh and cry and sing kumbaya, all in a magical atmosphere that brings you back again and again.

What will the little red building on the corner be? What's your guess?
And please...nothing to do with machines.
A girl's got to dream.

Help Haiti

2010-01-17T16:56:00.012-05:00

This blog is going to be quick and to the point. I know that a lot of people are strapped for cash right now, I know what Rush Limbaugh is saying about how much we've already given to Haiti, but I also want you to imagine how you would feel if you were a Haitian right now, watching your family and friends suffer around you (or you are suffering yourself) and there was nothing you could do to help them. That's my worst nightmare.

Already poor and struggling, Haiti needs us - you and me. There are people - children and babies - who are dying in the streets because the facilities are so poorly equipped and so few have the necessary expertise to do what needs to be done. Do or give whatever you can, but please help, and in doing so, keep alive the spirit of the man whose birthday we celebrate today - Martin Luther King, Jr.

I've recently learned that Capital One has a site where you can donate money and all processing fees are waived. Keep your donation safe and save money at the same time. Don't give money over the phone or respond to email solicitations asking for your credit card number! Stick to reputable organizations like the Red Cross or Doctors Without Borders.

Thank you for keeping an open mind and heart.

The New Year - 2010 and the Art of Zen

2010-01-05T09:16:00.012-05:00

All right...the party is over. I've taken several months off from writing my blog to recover my energy, sanity and joy of life (the short story version: I was recently diagnosed with hypothyroidism - completely treatable, but not very nice if left untreated). Anyway, I am feeling much better thanks to modern medicine and ready to begin the new year. I even rearranged my workspace.

Woohoo!

Okay, I admit it. I am one of those people who comes up with new year's resolutions. I am also one of those rare, and annoying, people who actually do what they resolve to do (more or less). That is why I am called an overachiever. Being an overachiever can be great, but it comes with a price (just ask my stomach).

This year I am feeling quite energetic and hope to get a lot accomplished. So, without further ado, here are my resolutions:

1. Finish writing two books (both have about 70 pages chock full of goodness).
2. Find an agent (the author kind, not the secret kind).
3. Send out a new kind of book (my favorite kind to read) that I wrote last year to help find that agent.
4. Find a publisher for a fantasy book I wrote last year (although there might be a possibility already for that one). I'm keeping my fingers (and my toes, eyes and ears) crossed!
5. Help put together a great NH AuthorFest (and hope for rain this year).
6. Market the new and improved, The Chronicles of Anaedor: The Prophecies.
7. Save the world.
8. Buy more books from local bookstores.
9. Do a real, live book signing at a real, live bookstore.
10. Have fun being an author (and there's no fun like author fun)!

As you can see, this post has nothing to do with the art of Zen. Overachievers have a hard time meditating (while doing so, I compose lists - it's very sad). But Zen rhymes with ten and that's the best I could do and that's what it's all about (apparently I don't overachieve when it comes to poetry).

So what are your resolutions for 2010? Do you even make them? If not, why are you such a wimp? Whatever your poor, sniveling excuses are, I'd like to hear from you, so comment away!

New Hampshire AuthorFest 2009!

2009-08-10T13:09:00.002-04:00

I am so excited! These last couple months I have been a part of organizing NH AuthorFest 2009, and I'm pleased to say that it's coming together very nicely! It's been a lot of work, but I'm finding it to be very energizing. We're going to have several authors, a couple publishers, and even a VP of Marketing for a publishing company. The event is being sponsored by Waldenbooks, the Lilac Mall and two local authors, Jeremy Robinson, and myself!

Our goal: To inspire future generations of readers.

The Date: August 15th from 11:30 to 3:00.
The Place: Lilac Mall, Rochester, NH

The Timeline:

11:30 - 1:00 Author Signing and Meet & Greet
1:00 - 1:30 Hunter Allain, who's hearing impaired, will be signing Last Night at the Zoo
(Leslie Allain will be reading)
1:30 - 2:30 Author Panel Q & A
2:30 - 3:00 Award Ceremony (to award the Leaders Inspiring Readers award)

The Guests:

Jeremy Robinson – Action/Adventure
Kristina Schram – YA Fantasy
J. J. Hebert – Inspirational Adult Fiction
Jon Merz – Action/Adventure
Jeffrey Derego – Sci-Fi
Renee Mallett – Local Interest (Paranormal)
Gary Turcotte – Local Interest
Scot Stone – Fantasy
Brooks Sigler – Chick Lit
Marianne O’Connor – Local Interest (Paranormal)
Rebecca Horan – Memoir
Phil McGrail – Publisher, YA Fantasy
Stan Tremblay – Publisher’s Assistant
Dan Boucher – Book Reviewer
Beryl Donovan – Librarian (Gaffney Library, Wakefield, Director)
Carol Corbett – VP of Marketing & Publicity

Possible Attendee:

Nora LeDuc – Mystery/Romance

Our goal is to promote literacy, to make people excited about reading, and to encourage others to help those who need support in learning to read, whether they be children or adults!

Hope to see you there!

The Different Ways to Publish

2009-06-22T09:47:00.036-04:00

I recently heard about a new writer who is considering going the self-publishing route because in doing so, he would rake in all the profit. After thinking about his reasoning, I decided to offer my perspective on the three big ways to publish a book, based on what I've learned over the years. This is only meant to be a guide. Be sure to research each option on your own (that's a nice way of saying don't hold me accountable for anything I say here).

There are three major ways to publish your book:

1) Via a big publisher
2) Via a small publisher
3) Self-Publishing

All ways have their positives and negatives.

1) Publishing via a big publisher:

The advantages:

a. More knowledge - Big publishers know the trends, the markets, the way things are done. They know what sells and how well it will sell (for the most part). They have the editors, the artists, the layout team, the sales team. You won't be going it alone, that's for sure.

b. More reach - Big publishers are established all over the country and throughout the world. People know who they are and, as we all know, half the battle is name recognition. Readers sometimes base whether or not they'll buy a book based on who published it. I don't do this, but I've seen other, weirder, people do it.

c. Better access to bookstores - Bookstores typically don't want to take on self-published or POD books. Why? Because they can't send them back to the publisher if they don't sell. That means, they aren't as likely to take a risk on you.

The disadvantages:

a. Very hard to get a deal with one. Everyone and their mother wants to be a published author (seriously, my mother is a writer, too). There's a lot of competition out there and you are one of thousands and thousands, maybe billions.

b. New authors don't get much of a marketing budget, if at all. Better established authors are doing more and more of their own marketing, as well, these days. So if they aren't getting much, you probably won't get bupkis. In fact, you might have to contact bookstores and ask them to order your book. I met an author who realized this the hard way. Her book was released through a relatively major publisher on a certain date and she was all excited so she walked into a local bookstore on that day to find her book, only to discover the store didn't have it. Nor did they know it existed.

c. Less money off the deal. More people work for bigger publishing companies, and they want a piece of the pie, too. If you have an agent, you get even less.

d. Less personal attention. Face it, big publishing companies are like any big company. It seems that the bigger you get, the harder it is to maintain that one on one devotion to the individual. Plus, they're dealing with a lot of writers, each of whom wants the best for their book.

2. Publishing via a small publisher

The advantages:

a. Easier to get published through one. Simply put, there's less competition, and for the obvious reasons (basically in that they don't have the same advantages as larger companies).

b. More of a personal touch. If you show promise as an author, small publishing companies are going to want your business. They also have fewer authors, so they have the time and energy to devote to you. It's a nice feeling.

c. More say and control in final product. This goes along with the personal touch. Small companies have a lot to learn, especially when starting out, and still believe that the author might have something important to contribute, beyond writing the book.

d. You don't have to have an agent. Well, you don't need an agent with a big publisher, either, but smaller publishers are simply more accessible (especially via their website) so you don't need your agent to take one of their representatives out to lunch. You can contact them yourself!

e. Some small publishing companies really rock - they're just small! I'm learning more and more that smaller companies put more effort into everything they do, at every level. Maybe it's the, "We're small, so we have a lot to prove." I'm small and I feel that way sometimes. But smaller companies also tend to hire people who are passionate about their work. They still believe they can make a difference and are in the business for the love of it. You'll probably find these people in bigger companies, too, but I imagine, like any big business, individuality/creativity can get stifled in exchange for the almighty dollar.

The disadvantages:

a. Less outreach. Not to beat a dead horse, but small companies just don't have the long arms. Not in the beginning anyway. Often, they're just starting out and building contacts. That means your book is going to see fewer stores.

b. Books are more expensive to publish, therefore more expensive to buyers. I've seen some regular-sized, paperback books selling for between $20 and $25. People might pay that for a hardcover, but they're much less likely to do so for a soft cover by an unknown author.

c. Bookstores are typically not interested in taking on your book if it's POD (unless local and you take the books back after a certain amount of time). As I said earlier, they don't want something they can't give back. There are ways around this, however, for some bookstores. You will simply have to do the legwork to find out for sure.

3. Self-Publishing

Advantages:

1. Anyone can do it. That's right. Anyone can publish their own book. You, me, a four-year-old. Even a monkey.

2. There are sites set up to help you do it, like Lulu.com, iUniverse.com or BookSurge.com. Very convenient.

3. You can publish whatever you want, with however many pages you want. You're the boss. If you want to publish your 150,000 + book, you can!

4. All the profit is yours! Nuf said.

5. Good way to make a memento for family and friends. If you aren't interested in numbers, but would like to have your book in print simply to say you did it, this service is invaluable.

Disadvantages:

1. You pretty much do all your own marketing, even if the site says they help with that. You have to make your book stand out. Of course, you are more than likely going to have to do marketing with the bigger companies, so this could be good practice.

2. It's costly. Self-published books (also POD) cost a lot of money to print. That means, to make any profit, you have to charge the reader a lot of money. Especially nowadays, people just don't want to take that risk, or don't have that kind of money to spend on a book.

3. The end results can be amateurish, at best. Editors exist for a reason. Self-published books are often the work of writers who aren't their own best editors, don't have readers, don't fully understand the writing process, etc. Self-published books are more likely to contain numerous typos and the book covers are often done by amateur artists or the writers themselves. Books really are judged by their covers, so yours has to be great. Often, they're not.

Now, before you go getting all mad at me, not all self-published books are poor quality. Just enough of them to give everyone else who self-publishes a bad rap. So know that you are fighting that battle. You're going to have to worker harder and longer just to sell a few copies.

4. There's a stigma attached to self-published books. Why? Read number 3. People definitely have that stigma and it isn't going anywhere any time soon. Again, be aware of this before deciding on the self-publishing option.

5. The process can be confusing. You're going to have to know your computer and how to do certain things on it, beyond typing words onto a blank screen and pressing save (creating and uploading book covers, for example, can be very challenging). Self-publishing can get rather technical and I found, after researching it a while ago (it may be easier now), that I may not have been able to figure it out on my own.

This short blog might seem like basic knowledge to seasoned authors/writers, but to newcomers, the differences can be confusing, or learned too late. Obviously, each method has its positives and negatives. If you are struggling to get a book deal and are considering self-publishing, consider this first. Have you done everything you can to improve your writing skills? Attend workshops, get readers, join a writer's group, garner more experiences, edit, edit, and do more editing, and be open to constructive criticism/advice. You may simply need to grow in your skills first before writing that great novel. The first few books you write might even be practice runs.

On the other hand, self-publishing can be a wonderful way to go. You don't have to deal with all the politics and rules of larger publishing companies, you're your own boss. Just make sure you know all the facts before going in. It can be an expensive, time-consuming and disheartening process, especially when you look on Amazon and see your book at 2 million (that means 1,999,999 books are selling better than yours). That's rough.

So do your research, decide why you're doing this and whether or not you're willing to put in the work, then go forward from there. There are going to be a lot of ups and downs (even for best selling authors - how many times has J.K. Rowling had to go to court?), so be persistent.

And remember...

"You won't ever fail if you don't try, but you won't succeed, either. Me, personally? I'm okay with failure. I've failed everything I've ever done and I'm okay with that. Heck, I'm more than okay with that! I'm proud of my record. Hey, you know what...I'm number one at failing! I'm a winner at losing! So just forget the rest of what I said about being a failure. Because I'm not one. That will be fifty cents, lady."

-Hilario Rukus, local crank.

What You Put Into It

2009-06-15T09:35:00.000-04:00

The saying goes...you get out of it what you put into it. Wise words, I'm sure you will agree. And mostly true. Except when it comes to my pets.

Over the years I have learned that while I like animals, pets are not the wonderful 'blood pressure lowering,' 'always giving,' 'lovable' creatures they're made out to be. I call it the pet owner conspiracy.

Case in point: My pets. We have 3 cats, several goldfish, and a dog. They are all a big stressor in my life. I have tried to get the benefits I'm supposed to get out of them, starting with petting the furry creatures (the fish don't seem to like this so I've given up on them). Seems like a win-win situation, doesn't it? I get to relax with the soothing motion and they get, well, petted. Except...every time I pet my cats, my allergies kick up. So I startle them with my sneezes and then I get claw marks all over my body as they briefly freak out. Then I have to get up and blow my nose, which ruins the whole relaxation effect, as well, because now I'm standing up and the cat has fled the scene. And every time I pet our one cat, Beanie (we used to call her Sabrina - but that's just too nice a name - now she's Needy Beanie), it just kicks in her neediness and she gets all clingy and the claws come out so she can cling even better and she goes nuts if you try to stop petting her. When I try to pet our lab, she ends up chewing on my hand.

And what about that joyful greeting when we get home that other pet owners have said is so great? Well, we definitely get that from our dog...in spades. But we don't want it. She jumps up on us, scratching our arms or backs with her toenails because we can't fight her off as our hands are full of groceries, then she sniffs our behinds and crotches as much as she can before we push her away (what is that with dogs, btw? other than the obvious...). And then there's the licking of any exposed skin. Gah!

My blood pressure is rising just thinking about it...

So what do I get out of my pets? Well, noise, for one. They meow or bark or gurgle throughout the day. They also leave me lovely messes around the house (except the fish, who I'm kind liking more and more as this blog goes on), from regurgitated matter to clumps of fur to backend deposits (especially the dog, who gets into dead things and gets sick and has to get outside fast in the middle of the night but doesn't wake anybody so it ends up on the floor). I get claw marks on my furniture and doorways and clothes. My kids have holes in their shirts from when Dorrie was a puppy. The carpets are permanently stained.

So maybe I do get out of my pets what I put into them. Because I put food into my pets, so what I get out of them is...

_ _ it. You fill in the blanks.

I want to be an animal lover. I really do. I want to sit with my cats and pet them and they purr peacefully. I want to be able to play frisbee with my dog without the danger of losing a finger when I try to get the frisbee back to throw it again. Yet my fantasies of pet enjoyment just don't ever seem to play out the way I think they're going to (I blame commercials and advertisements, oh, and other pet owners who love everything their pets do - kind of like my mom).

So what does all of this have to do with writing and being an author? Besides the fact that I can relate everything back to those two things... Well, you get out of writing and publishing what you put into it. Blood, sweat and tears. Um, yuck. Why am I doing this again? I guess because I'm an optimist at heart, and a masochist, I suppose. Maybe I like to suffer. Or maybe my pets are sadists and they want me to suffer.

What's that Dorrie? You just ate a dead bird? On purpose? After you dug another hole in the yard and peed on my carpet? And then puked up the bird?

Oh, dear Lord, I think my heart just exploded.

Okay, I'm Cheating...

2009-06-08T20:31:00.009-04:00

I was finishing up an edit today and then had to take my son to get his braces off, so my blog consists of linking you to an interview (of me) at my publisher's website.

Variance Interview

So, yes, I'm cheating today. If you have problems with this, take it up with Bop:

Or Beep:

Both are pretty tough, but Beep is particularly bad.

Talk at ya next week, peeps.

The Three R's of Editing

2009-06-01T09:26:00.004-04:00

For the past several years, I have been trying to live a greener life. Lately, I've been getting so green, I've started recycling my own underwear. On a lighter note, I've also started greening up my editing. My new editor has been working with me on Anaedor and I found that much of what I do in the editing process can be put into three categories, which I like to call the Three R's:

1) Reduce
2) Reuse
3) Recycle

Sounds simple, doesn't it?

Actually, it can be, but you've got to want it. Anyone who has tried to edit their book knows that it can be a difficult and emotionally taxing endeavor. While my editor might make suggestions about what I need to change, it's up to me to figure out how I'm going to implement those suggestions. Thinking in terms of the three words listed above is a good way to clean up your book so that it flows, doesn't waste any word, sentence, space or thought, and keeps your plot on track. It also helps you to avoid a nervous breakdown (after you get done cursing out your editor when he/she doesn't praise you as the genius that you are and tell you to not touch a thing).

So here's what I'm talking about:

Reduce: You'd be amazed at how many unnecessary words and thoughts you use. Print out your book and go through it with this thought: Does this drive the plot forward? Is this repetitive? Can the book survive without this word, sentence, paragraph, character? If you answer yes (be objective now!), then ditch the unnecessaries. Cross them right out. You'll find that eliminating 5,000 + words is actually not all that hard. Actually, I was shocked at how easy it was. Sometimes I fought letting things go, but in the end, when they were gone, I didn't miss them. I'm trying to convince my children to apply the same concept to using toilet paper (you really don't need three feet to do the job), but they aren't yet buying into it. We'll see how it goes when I make them switch to leaves.

Reuse: A lot of what you write is reusable, just as it is. Say hurray! But...you might need to rearrange it, use it in a different way. Yes, that's a funny joke, but not right for this character. I love this phrase, but it doesn't work here. Put it here and it has much more impact. Recycling example: Milk jugs can be used for milk, but they also make great water containers for my plants, or chew toys for my dog after she steals them.

Recycle: Here is where you can use what you have, but it needs an overhaul. This is when you have the right idea, but you're not saying it the way it needs to be said. Melt it down and reform it. Perhaps you have a scene that's necessary for the book; however, it's just not coming out right. Scrap the words and rewrite the scene. Same idea, different look. As it is, this empty pop can has no use. Recycle it and voila! you have a new roof. Wait...do they turn soda cans into roofs? I don't know, but I think you get the idea.

Like writing, editing is a process with definite rules. I am still learning them, rule by painful rule, and not always very gracefully. So whenever I find methods that help me maintain my sanity in this 'interesting' process, I pass them along. Give the three R's a try. You won't just be contributing to a better world, you'll be making a better book and keeping your health at the same time.

So make this your new motto: Live Green, or Die a painful, horrible death from radiation poisoning and/or an editing aneurism! Or, just live green or die.

Side note ~ Update on agent search: Stagnant. I have my new manuscript out there, but am hearing nothing back (other than the quickie rejections, which leave me feeling very unsatisfied). Remain hopeful. Have yet to resort to cannibalism.

Remembering...

2009-05-25T10:09:00.000-04:00

Like many Americans, I was looking forward to Memorial Day weekend. I thought of warm weather, hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill, of relaxing and maybe doing a little yard work - if I felt like it. I thought of fragrant flowers blooming, flags waving, kids playing. But most importantly, I thought about those who served our country and died so that we can have the peace and wonderful lives we have today. On this day in particular, I feel so proud of our country and of the brave men and women who sacrificed themselves to make a better world for future generations - for our generation.

Every night our family thinks about and prays for the soldiers fighting in Iraq (my 4-year-old prays, Dear God, Please watch over the whole entire Iraq and make sure the soldiers come home safely and watch over yourself and Jesus...I hope you have a good time together...). But on this special day, our family will pay homage to those 'forgotten' souls buried in the graveyard near our house. At the same time, we will think about our own lost loved ones lying far away in deep soil too far away for us to reach. It is time we pull them nearer with our thoughts.

On this day, strangers to us will become new acquaintances. We don't know much about the people buried in this small, family graveyard, but we can say thank you to them - for clearing this land, for planting those glorious lilacs, for digging up all those Granite State rocks. Thank you for this wonderful place. And we will offer our companionship to them in return. We will give them the gift of the sound of young voices and of exuberant life and of remembering.

And while there will probably be one or two spirits who would wish we'd just go away and leave them to their peace and quiet, I imagine the rest will enjoy experiencing something a little different. Something that reminds them of what was, so they can do their own remembering. So they can be alive if only for a moment.

Memorial Day is for Memories. This year, make your memories good and positive ones so that you can carry them with you throughout the year, a sort of talisman against further war, further death and violence, and as a reminder that there's more to this world than what we can see, that you can be a part of the healing.

In remembering, we acknowledge what we were and where we came from, and in doing so, shall never be lost.

Agent, Where Art Thou?

2009-05-18T10:03:00.000-04:00

I am looking for an agent...that elusive species, which, if found, could bring joy and happiness (at the very least, a book deal) to my life. Those of you who have gone through the process, or are in it right now, know that it's a tough road to travel. Not only is it hard to find agents interested in _______ (enter your genre here), it's hard to make yourself stand out amongst all the other people searching for an agent who specializes in _______ (enter your genre here).

The worst part, though?

Well, the rejections, of course. But after that, it's the waiting. I know agents are busy, I know they gets lots and lots of email and snail mail and have to spend time trudging through submissions and on selling the manuscripts they actually do accept to publishers, not to mention that they need to eat and sleep, but I'm telling you, waiting a minimum of 4-6 weeks to hear back can be painful. Mainly because at the end of the wait, chances are, you're going to get a rejection.

Here are some of the rejections you might receive:

"Thank you for your submission. While your work shows promise, we don't feel that it fits our needs right now." Or... "I need to be sufficiently excited about a book to try and sell it and I'm just not feeling that about yours." Or... "Go away." I haven't actually received that last one, but I imagine it's only a matter of time...

On this long and perilous journey, I'm trying to stay positive. I'm trying to make my query letter sing, trying to follow all the different agency rules/regulations/orders down to the last little detail (which is never little to the agent, let me tell you). I suggest you do the same. No sense biting the hand that might someday feed you.

I wonder if agents know the power they have over us writers? Do they feel it? Do they get annoyed with our neediness and seek to punish us by throwing us into the Slush pile? I imagine some revel in their power - I suppose the rest are just plain tired and overworked and wished they only got what they wanted/requested instead of pink personalized stationery laden with hearts and lots of typos in a five-page query letter that talks about how much your hubbykins loves your book, but never says much about the book itself. Hint: Don't do this.

Author wannabes, you're not alone in this long, lonely, difficult process. It can be scary, disheartening, and depressing. But it can also be a great learning and growing experience (I hope). Maybe someday I (and you, too) will finally find that person who believes in us. Maybe someday (soon - life, I'm finding as I age, is incredibly short), I will meet the agent of my dreams. I imagine us sharing lunch - laughing, crying, singing Kumbaya together. It'll be great. Though, really, I'd just settle for help getting my book published and a nice working relationship, and maybe the occasional box of chocolates.

In the meantime, I will keep writing and honing my craft and marketing my other book and crying into my pillow late at night. What else is a person to do, but keep trying?

Wait...Don't answer that.

Just keep trying.

Oh, and listen to Jem's song...It's Amazing

The Mermaid of Muses

2009-05-11T10:33:00.014-04:00

It's been a while since I've posted any blogs - sorry to those of you who follow me, who wait for my posting with an almost mad, feverish anticipation. Please forgive me. Once I tell you what happened, I'm sure you will find it in your heart to bestow mercy. You see, my blogging muse drowned in a terrible editing accident. Four different manuscripts to edit was just too much for her. I've only just now been able to revive her, poor thing.

Thank goodness my Mermaid of Muses had got good lungs.

The good news is that I've finished editing all of the manuscripts (for the moment, that is). The better news is that I also sent off one of those manuscripts to an agent and am hoping for an interested bite, chomp, ruthless devouring.

I worked pretty hard writing that query letter (which I've never been very good at doing), edited my manuscript tons of times, had my readers read it (four of them, two at a time with an editing between each pair), read and re-read everything myself, then I sent all of it off to an agent that I felt really good about, really excited about.

My heart was actually pounding when my finger readied itself to press the send button (this was obviously an e-mail inquiry and not a Star-Trek episode), but I took the leap and pushed! I'd done it!

The rest is up to fate, I told myself. My muse concurred.

Then I realized something - I forgot to run a simple spelling and grammar check. Of all the stupid things to forget! And of course, I found a typo in the small bit of manuscript that I sent. Being that books are what agents and their staff do for a living, I have a feeling my mistake is going to stand out like a Minnesotan in New York City.

I am now experiencing what I believe is called post-test anxiety.

"I know I got number 12 wrong!"
"And number 25, too, and that's worth 10 points in itself!"
"I totally blew it!"
"I'm going to fail!"
"I'm going to die!"

Sigh. I thought those overachieving, high anxiety days were over. Guess not. But I am left with the hope that the reader took a sip of her mocha latte during that bit. It's all I've got.

The best thing I can get from this experience? If they reject me, I can blame it on the typo. Woohoo!

Feel free to do the same...

Editing 101: Too Many Words!

2009-04-09T11:09:00.000-04:00

Note: I'm reposting the following because 1) I am lazy, and 2) because I thought you might benefit from my many, many mistakes. So really, I'm doing this for you.

As I am currently editing book two of the Anaedor series, I thought I’d try to capture some of the problems I’ve found and pass them along to you to fix. I mean, learn from. Of course, I was nearly at the end of the book when I discovered something I wished I had figured out 400 pages earlier.

I use too many words!

The following are real world examples of changes I have made that I think will make my book flow better. First, I’ll present the original sentence/phrase, then show how I made it better (I hope). The changes are subtle, but important, I think. Obviously, you’ll have to generalize to your work, but I believe it is quite doable.

1a. I have just recently taken in a group of Lost Ones who are in desperate need of a new home.

1b. I have recently taken in a group of Lost Ones in desperate need of a new home.

*See how those 3 words (just, who are) are unnecessary? Plus, I just have to get away from using the word ‘just’ too often.

2a. They’ve been traveling for ages and hiding out for too long. They must settle soon. They need a home.

2b. They’ve been traveling for ages. They must settle soon.

*Could I be any more repetitive? Could I be? Well, yes, I could, but I don’t need to be. I don’t. It’s annoying.

3a. Her beady eyes narrowed doubtfully. “’But I thought Blendars supported Humans.”

3b. Her beady eyes narrowed doubtfully. “’I thought Blendars supported Humans.”

*Excessive use of the but word. Stop immediately. Same idea can be applied to the and word.

4a. “I have more to tell you!” she shouted excitedly, her voice booming. “You and your clan would benefit greatly from hearing my words of wisdom.”

4b. “I have more to tell you! Your clan would benefit greatly from hearing my words of wisdom.”

*I have been working on eliminating extra wording in between bits of dialogue based on a workshop I attended on dialogue by playwright, Tom Dunn. He likes to use only dialogue and nothing else. I’m not that talented, but I can apply his thinking to a lot of what I do.

5a. Ian broke in, making it clear that he didn’t find it to be that way in the least.

5b. Ian broke in, making it clear that he didn’t find it that way in the least.

*This change sounds better in context. I eliminated the phrase ‘to be’ because it made the sentence clunky.

6a. Realizing what was going on, all three Pirahnies gave an ear-piercing roar and lunged at the newcomer who was taking their meal away.

6b. All three Pirahnies gave an ear-piercing roar and lunged at the newcomer taking their meal away.

*I have learned that using the phrase who was or who is, is often not needed. More unnecessary words to clutter your work.

7a. I began to mumble the words to myself.

7b. I mumbled the words to myself.

*began to, started to…don’t overuse these phrases. They take away from the action of the sentence.

8a. the wiles of a Mermaid

8b. A Mermaid’s wiles.

*Use of the possessive, where practical, eliminates extra words and awkward phrasing.

9a. The helmet was covering his eyes

9b. The helmet covered his eyes

*Make your verb as active as you can.

10a. Even worse was that Loria believed the arrogant charlatan

10b. Loria believed the arrogant charlatan

*More unnecessary words.

These are only ten examples from the hundreds that I make in a day of editing. It’s a learning process that can be both frustrating and rewarding. I hope these concrete examples make some sense to you and are applicable to what you’re doing. I will pass along more tips as I continue this process…I’m sure there will be plenty more.

And remember: Writing is like life. Plan on making lots of mistakes.

Like this: a large door was a large door

The Skype Hype

2009-03-13T09:14:00.011-04:00

Today I am going to try Skype. I'm a newbie, a first-timer, a frightened adventurer into the unknown. Yesterday, my publisher wanted to show me a few ideas for Anaedor's new book cover. He wanted to use Skype so he could physically show me the pictures. Great, I thought! My husband has Skype...we can use his. There was only one problem.

I couldn't figure it out.

Okay, first I had to figure out how to get to it. My husband's computer is a bit of a landmine to navigate but he managed to guide me through it via iChat (I didn't want to use the Linux Operating System apparently). Next, I needed to set up my own account. The site kept asking me to download Skype. Well, my husband already had it on his computer. I didn't need anymore Skype, thank you very much. Skype didn't care. Finally, I gave up in disgust. Of course, I'm sure the answer to my dilemma was sitting right in front of me, but I was too blind or tired to see it.

Story of my life.

Last night, my helping hubby set up an account for me, in like seven seconds. Plus, he told me I had to turn on the microphone and sound. Hmmm...That makes a lot of sense. So even if I could have used Skype yesterday, I wouldn't have been able to hear anything, or be heard. Nice.

Today, I actually had a conversation on Skype. First I had to tell my four-year-old to stay away while the door's closed. Ha! He wasn't too sure about that. Then I had to find somewhere to put our overgrown puppy. I didn't need a dog licking me or trying to get me to play when I'm trying to look sophisticated and business-like. So I decided that Dorrie could hang out in Grandma's room - she loves it up there because that's where Harold resides (my mom's dog).

Well, as you might have guessed, she decided to leave Grandma's room and find me. There were only a couple minutes before the conversation was about to start...so I let her come into the office...she was nosing at the door and making sad sounds. Once inside, she immediately left, curiosity satisfied. Good, I thought.

Well, my publisher and I finally worked the Skype right and we had a nice conversation about my book...after the fiasco happened, that is. The dog stole a toy from my son and my son chased the dog into the office. The toy she stole? Once of those bouncing noise making balls that sings, "Louie, Louie!" and makes cat calls. She lost it under my desk and then got a hold of the mouse and started playing with that. Needless to say, I had to interrupt the conversation to save my computer. Finally, I removed both child and dog from the office and the conversation continued quite nicely.

So, here's my opinion on Skype:

Bonus: It's free, easy to use (once you're set up), and you can see the other person and they can see you (if you have a web cam). What you need: A web cam (my husband's apple has one built in) and some sort of microphone and sound system (again, he had that all figured out - you're on your own with that).

Negatives: The set-up is hard to figure out (well, it was for me), you have to agree on a time to do the call, there was some feedback on my end (I could hear my voice repeat everything I said, which was distracting), and finally, you can see the other person and they can see you. Actually, I was glad I wasn't able to make Skype work yesterday. Let's just say I wasn't at my visual best.

Anyway, it's free and kind of neat. I would certainly use it again.

Give it a try yourself...Skype's Website

How Do I Get Motivated to Write?

2009-02-26T11:36:00.027-05:00

Let's face it. We are all busy people. All of us. So how does a person make the time, summon up the energy, and find the motivation to follow their dreams?

It isn't easy. I have three young boys and a household to run. When I first started writing, I was in graduate school. Later, I was the brand new mother of a baby, then another one and another one. It wasn't easy making - forging - the time to write. Sometimes (most of time), I had to trick myself into doing it, especially when I first started writing or was very, very tired because my child was up sick all night.

I'm going to focus on the dream of becoming a writer because it's a dream that I'm currently pursuing. Plus, I've learned a few tricks along the way to motivate myself to write, which I can pass along to you.

So, let's say you've come up with an idea of what you want to write, but find yourself sitting, staring at a blank page/screen because you don't know how to start and all that white is intimidating the bejeebers out of you. Or you've gotten started writing and then got stuck. Or, you can't seem to make the time. I've been there many times and have struggled to overcome these obstacles.

Here's what I came up with to get over them:

1) Finding time: There are twenty-four hours in a day. The typical person needs to sleep 6-8 hours (I prefer 9). If you work, take away another 8-10 hours. Then there's eating, cleaning, exercising etc. You get the picture. So how does a person find time to write?

a) Make a schedule. List all your activities for the week. Somewhere there has to be an hour or two that you can sit down and do something just for yourself. Schedule it in.
b) As hard as this sounds, think about sacrificing one of your lesser favorite TV shows and use that time to write.
c) Find a consistent time to do your creating. Most people go to work at specific times. This is the same idea.
d) There's a lot of down time you don't realize you have. For example, waiting for a doctor's appointment. I've used this time to scribble ideas on scraps of paper. Or taking a shower or standing in line at the groceries.
e) If you're really serious about achieving your dream, you will make time for it. If you are not, you will make excuses. Don't be one of those people who says, I will write when I retire. Let's face it...in these economic times you might never retire, or you'll die before you do.

2) Motivation: Create a creative environment. I have surrounded myself with my favorite books, both for leisure and for research, interesting pictures, my ugly doll, and my skulls, all to conjure up an atmosphere that shouts, Imagination! Another world! It doesn't have to be much space - you can hole up in a corner along with your computer, typewriter or notepad, with the perfect lamp and a stack of your favorite books close by and your i-pod in your ears. But it has to be yours. It's like going to work - you go to an office, or cubicle, or building, to do it. This space you create at home is your office. Consistency of environment can help get you focused and keep you on track.

3) Motivation: Look for stories everywhere. Lately, all someone has to do is bring up one slightly unusual story, idea, or image, and my mind takes it and runs, developing a story as quickly as it can. But first I had to work at freeing up my mind to see and hear the ideas. Be open to this world and it will flow into you. Heck, it might even start to shout at you, trying to get your attention. In raising my sons to be open to creative ideas, I've created little monsters. The two attending school have told me an idea has been percolating in their heads all day and they couldn't wait to get home to put it into practice. Children are so much more open; we adults might have to either reawaken the child within or train ourselves to be creative.

4) Motivation: Along with #3, keep notepads everywhere. By your bed, in your bag or purse, by the TV, in the car. As much as you think you're going to remember your ideas, you won't - unless you're one of those weird people who remembers everything. I'm not. As vivid as the idea was, it goes right down the toilet when the kids start to bicker or the phone rings, or a pretty, fluttery thing floats by.

5) Motivation: Talk to trusted people about your idea. Brainstorming is great for writing a book. You may not use other's ideas, but one of their thoughts might kick off an idea of your own. I've used this method many times to achieve clarity, map out a plot, figure out a detail. It's very helpful and actually quite fun. My engineer husband has a surprisingly fantastical imagination and has helped me figure out directions to take many times.

6) Motivation: Reward yourself for good deeds. I purposely eat less at lunch so I can have a snack while I type. I like food. I know I probably shouldn't use it as a reward, but I do. Still, I don't want to turn into a chair potato, so I have to work at not overdoing. Working at home, I have access to food whenever I want, and personally, I could eat all day. So I, and probably most people, really have to be careful using food as a reward.

My other rewards? When I finish something big (a certain number of pages a day, a book, an edit), I let myself read for fun, or watch a good movie, or go out with my family. The funny thing is, writing itself has become a reward. Most of the time, I love writing for the process itself (that doesn't mean I'm giving up my snack).

7) Motivation/Getting unstuck: Listen to the music that fits with the mood you want to evoke. Ethereal music for ghostly books. Rock-n-roll for an action scene. Whatever floats your boat. Music can be very inspiring. I can't, however, listen to music when I edit. It's too distracting. I've found that I can't seem to pay attention while I'm doing air guitar or singing at the top of my lungs. Go figure.

8) Motivation/Getting unstuck: To get in the mood to write, I read or watch movies in the genre I'm writing in. I write fantasy, so I watch The Chronicles of Narnia or Harry Potter. I'm currently writing a dark romance so I watched the new version of Wuthering Heights (which I wasn't all that thrilled by, I must admit, but it set a mood). Other movies/books can also trigger ideas.

9) Getting unstuck or started in the first place:
a) First of all, take off the pressure. Tell yourself that you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. When it comes to this kind of thing, you really don't.
b) Second, give yourself a goal. Today I am going to write one page, or even one sentence. I've talked about this before in other blogs, but taking baby steps may be just what you need to do to get yourself unstuck. Imagining having to do it all at once is too overwhelming.
c) Take a break. Take a shower or a walk. Or let your work sit for a day or two and think about where you want to go with it. Fantasize about it just like you fantasize about telling off your boss or a jerk with road rage. Writers have imaginations, use yours!
d) Write now; edit later. It's that simple. Don't let your perfectionism kill the project before it can ever really take off.

While writing can be a great joy, it can also be hard work. Most people get paid to work. Writers don't until they publish something, which can be a reward a long time in coming. So search out what motivates you, use it temperately, and most of all, don't give up! Following your dream is a process in itself and is meant to be enjoyed.

Now, what are you doing wasting your time reading this blog? Get out there and follow your dreams!

Just Thinkin' About the Weather...

2009-02-19T10:32:00.019-05:00

Have you ever listened to the 10,000 Maniacs? They're a great group, or were, when Natalie Merchant was lead singer. Anyway, they have a song titled, "Like the Weather" on their CD In My Tribe. I even included a link so you can listen to a bit of it...Like the Weather. Just be sure to click on the right clip. It's the third song down.

So why am I writing about the weather?

Because it stinks!

Here in Northern New England another snowstorm hit us overnight. First, it snowed a lot, then it rained on top of it. Then, when we had to clear our driveway to get to work and school, it started to snow again. The weather forecast called for an abrupt ending to the snow, anywhere from 6-9 a.m. It didn't cease abruptly and it went on until 9:30! Now, Kristina, you say, what's the big deal? Another half hour? Yes, but I started clearing at 7:00, people! By the time I was done, I had to re-do several sections. Plus, the snowblower didn't want to blow the snow because it was the consistency of mud and when it did manage to blow snow, it blew it onto snow not yet blown, weighing those sections down until it was one large, immovable chunk. So we had to shovel that part. I lost three pounds in the process and gained a hernia.

I know I'm whining and I'm very good at it, but we'd just gone through a week of sunny skies and balmy temps in the 30s. Snow was melting, grass was appearing, our driveway was ice free and safe! No longer. The weather is messing with my head...again.

I guess that's what I get for living in New England.

Hey, I said it first, so save your breath pointing out to me that maybe if I didn't like winter, I should move. I do like winter, just not in January, February, March, and, God forbid, April. So there.

Still, at least this year I have my mom and husband to help out (the hubby usually manages to find a way to break a bone. No such luck for him this year). My mother is in her 60s and while she helps out, it makes me nervous. She is going to hurt herself and then I'll have to be her nurse. That wouldn't be pretty. There is a reason I'm not a nurse. It has to do with the fact that I don't like people.

Then again...as I was shoveling the end of the driveway, along came a little machine with a plow and the young driver plowed the end of our drive for me. Bless him! There are good people in the world! I have seen the light!

Anyway, if you follow my blog, you know that at this time of year, not only am I just thinkin' about the weather, I get a little obsessed by it.

We'll see what happens this year. If you want to see someone make a slow spiraling descent into madness, pray for snow. Otherwise, join me and do the happy dance for spring to come now!

A Message From Above...

2009-02-13T12:04:00.001-05:00

I was sitting on the couch reading a good book, around 9:30 at night, when a loud bang startled Dorrie (my dog) and myself. Something had hit the patio door about ten feet away, and hit it hard. In the gentle glow of the lamp, the two of us tiptoed over to see what had happened. Had it been an errant icicle? Doubtful. Icicles usually just drop straight down. A snowball from a strange and mischievous neighbor? I hoped not.

Together we peered through the dark window, and there it was…

A little owl. It was so tiny, about 6 or 7 inches high, and it stared up at me with big, black eyes like marbles and dark feathers (I’ve yet to come across a picture or a type of owl that really fits what I saw). It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I dashed off to find my husband and mother, so they could see it and so they could help me figure out what to do with a potentially injured bird. By the time they showed up, the little owl was gone. I felt both relieved and happy for it and terribly sad, wishing I’d spent another five seconds looking at the little guy, or gal.

It was a mystical experience for me. Though this isn’t the first wild animal I’ve seen (there have been many over the years, but more than usual lately). This fall I saw a huge buck about to run into the road before turning back into the safety of the woods. It was deer season and I said a little prayer that the beautiful creature would survive. I also spotted a pheasant at the same spot twice, on different days. The other day a fox darted across the road in front of the car. This was in the morning, an unusual time to see one. On a different day I had to wait while a flock of wild turkeys hung out in the road.

After this latest influx of animals, I’m starting to feel a bit like Snow White.

Anyway, I thought I’d share my brush with nature with you simply because it was so amazing to me, and because I think such experiences will become rarer and rarer - sadly. When I tell people about the owl, they aren’t nearly as impressed as I was, but if you’d seen the little thing and its wise, yet innocent eyes staring up at you, I believe you would have been equally touched. I just hope little owlie is okay, and remembers next time that there’s a house here.

Flu Prostrates Family: Mom Ready to Pull Out Hair

2009-02-06T09:30:00.003-05:00

These are the latest headlines from our household. We have the stomach flu. Over the last several days, I have cleaned up a lot of liquids that have exited the body at brute force (topping speeds of 90 mph), from both of the main orifices, and from three of the four sickies (my husband has managed to make it to the toilet in time, thank the Lord). My oldest child has sometimes gotten the double whammy (both at the same time, poor thing). What a joyride we’ve been on! Today is day seven and I’m the fortunate individual who only got a mild version of it.

I’m just nauseous all the time.

I really just want to curl up and hide under the covers, but I am counting my blessings. One: I could be feeling the same way and still have to care for everybody. Two: Nobody puked at school or on the bus (though one of the kid’s friends did). Three: We’re saving on the grocery bill. Four: We could be living in a car.

Our puppy dog is going stir crazy. She’s always been public enemy number one to our cats, but now she has moved to terrorist status. She stalks them, waits for them to show their furry faces, and then attacks with a ferocious slobberfest. She doesn’t want to destroy them as a true terrorist would, but she does ignite fear in them because they don’t know she means them no harm. Their fur is clogged with spit, they’ve lost tufts of it all over the house, and they’ve had to run faster than they’ve ever had to run in their lives. Big Lou (our male cat) doesn’t like to run. That’s why he’s so big. Our one cat, Beanie, vacillates between thinking this is love (she’s very needy) and deciding those big teeth kind of hurt. Our last cat, Gypsy (a stray who adopted us), is smarter. She just stays out of the way.

To add insult to injury, the day before yesterday I was taking down comforter number twenty-five, which had been drying down in the laundry room (I had to wash it because someone puked on it despite everyone having an assigned bucket), which is also the furnace room, and saw a little red light glowing on the furnace. We had run out of oil. We have a strange set-up and cannot read how much we have in the tank and I don’t know how fast this house burns through oil (cause we only moved here in August) and there are more people using the hot water and it’s been unusually cold, too. So, we ended up spending a lot of money to have the oil company do an emergency delivery and re-start the burner. They were very nice, though, and hit us first on their run. Bless them.

Still…

Over these past several days, my boys have grown attached to their puke buckets. Literally, they’re kind of sticky. Ohhh…there goes the nausea again.

Anyway, there is something to be learned from this blog. Here it is: If your child mentions that their best friend puked on the bus, you’re in trouble. If you feel stomach pains or someone complains of them, you’re in trouble. Avoid letting the sickies eat or drink (think ice chips) too much when they start feeling better, or, you’re in trouble.

All right, that’s all from Sick Central. I’m not feeling so well…Where’s my bucket?

Weird Happenings in New Hampshire

2009-01-30T10:31:00.005-05:00

The other day I was in Portsmouth doing some shopping at the local health food store before meeting back up with my family at the restaurant where my niece works. It was my mother's birthday and we'd just taken her out for brunch at the quirky Friendly Toast and were then going to stop briefly to see my niece. The others had gone ahead so that I could do my health store shopping sans children. Finishing quickly, I hurried on to meet them. I was walking down the sidewalk, minding my own business, jauntily carrying my paper bag full of healthy products,

When it happened...

"Excuse me!" a voice cried out from behind me. "Excuse me!" Thinking someone was in a rush and needed space on the slippery, snowy sidewalk, I moved over toward the building to get out of their way. Seemingly from out of nowhere, a female face appeared in the tiny space between me and the wall and a five dollar bill was shoved into my hand with the words, "Here! There's more of that where that came from!" Then she was gone. Totally gobsmacked, I stood for a moment staring at the bill in my hand before swinging around to see what the heck had just happened. Lots of people were out that Saturday morning, filling the sidewalks, and it was hard to see where the woman had gone. I thought maybe she had joined a group and was hurrying away, but I couldn't tell for sure. I hadn't gotten a good look at her because she'd come and gone so quickly, but if asked, I'd say she was your average looking (meaning, no unusual tattoos, hair color, or piercings), American woman in her forties.

I was so stunned by her action that I didn't even say thank you. Of course, I was also suspicious. Immediately I opened my purse, not to put the bill away, but to check my wallet. It was still there. So, this hadn't been a trick to distract me, then steal my wallet. I began to walk again, tentatively holding the bill in my hand as though it might contain a bomb. After a minute, I decided to look it over. I examined it thoroughly and found no messages or phone numbers or websites scrawled on it. No blood. No bomb. It looked all right.

But I didn't want it.

Right away I started searching for someone who would. A man waiting for the bus looked a little down and out, but he also looked grumpy. I figured that if I tried to give him money he'd yell at me, "Do I look poor to you?" and I would be forced to reply, "Well, yes, you do, sir. I thought you could use some money." And Bam! that would be the end of me.

I wanted to live so I kept walking, hoping at the very least that I'd find a street musician working the crowd. Strangely, on a cold January morning, there was no such creature. Still dazed, my mind started going through all the possibilities of what this might mean. Was it a strange, grassroots version of Obama's new stimulus plan? A reality television show taping what people do with the money a stranger gives them? If that were the case, I was determined not to look entirely idiotic with my paper bag and a five-dollar bill held out before me between two gloved fingers. I straightened my shoulders and walked faster.

The worst case scenario? Maybe, just maybe, I looked like I needed the money. Maybe that paper bag in my arm resembled a six-pack from the liquor store. Was that why she'd given me money? She thought I looked down and out? The Norwegian in me was horrified, and my husband didn't help matters any. When I met up with my family and told everyone my story, he said that maybe my jacket had made her think I was a homeless person. I was wearing a navy blue peacoat. I thought it made me look distinguished. Apparently, I thought wrong.

Okay, so I'm pretty sure, despite my husband's opinion, that I didn't look homeless or needy. As much as I would like to be politically correct and say there is nothing wrong with looking homeless and needy, I won't be hypocritical The only people who really want to look homeless and needy are the ones who are trying to scam you. I don't think those who are truly homeless and needy want to look that way. Not being either, I certainly didn't. The thing was, the woman ran me down to give me the money. She literally chased after me yelling, "Excuse me!" to get me to stop. What was it about me that prompted such unusual behavior?

My husband said he would have chased after her and demanded to know where the rest of it was since she had, after all, said, "there's more of that where that came from." I wouldn't have done that. What if this had been a ruse to get me to follow her down a dark alley so that she and her gang could kidnap me and sell me on the white slave market? I don't want to be a slave.

I ended up giving the money to my niece and she put it in her tip jar. She didn't want it at first, but I told her she could pay it forward some time. She promptly took it. The youth are so much less suspicious than I am.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure the gesture was meant to be in good spirit - a simple, generous act. Too bad I didn't take it that way, which says something about me, I guess. Too many times I've taken people at face value only to end up being ridiculed by them. This time, I was going to be careful. Of course, this time was probably the one example of someone truly being kind and not using me for a morning's entertainment...Boy, I wish we could hear what that woman's thinking right now! You probably just blew her mind, Beth!

For the moment, the event remains a mystery to me. If anyone has any ideas about what might have happened, please pass the information along. In the meantime, beware the five-dollar biller. You might just get free money out of the deal.

Things You’ll Never Hear Parents Saying to Their Kids

2009-01-16T10:28:00.005-05:00

I believe the children are my future. I do. When I'm old, my kids are going to support me. Until then, I have to put up with a lot of their crap.

Over the holiday vacation I compiled a short list of...

Things You'll Never Hear Parents Saying to Their Kids:

1. I sure wish you'd cry more.
2. Please make a bigger mess when you eat.
3. Thanks for wearing that same pair of underwear (or socks, shirt, pants) all week.
4. Can't you be louder? It's too quiet around here!
5. Sure you can have my credit card and buy that $120 Nintendo ds.
6. Go ahead and tease the dog with your face, hand, or dangly bits.
7. I really want to know why you're whining.
8. Of course, I'll clean your room for you.
9. Oh, goody, you're sick again!
10. Thank goodness it's finally summer vacation!
11. I'm happy to wipe up around the toilet where you missed (the next two relate quite a bit to this one).
12. I'm glad you didn't put the toilet seat up when you were draining the lizard because I like sitting in pee.
13. I'm having another boy? Woohoo!
14. Yes, you may mix those chemicals together.
15. Feel free to play with my crystal glasses.
16. You want to build a catapult? Awesome! Let me know how I can help (oh, wait. My husband said this to my middle child).
17. Please, more fart jokes. I just can't get enough (actually, I can't. It's very sad).

Feel free to add some phrases. I will give you credit however you want me to.

Until next week...Be afraid, be very afraid (Wednesday Addams).

You Know You Have a Puppy When…

2009-01-09T10:41:00.011-05:00

You'd think puppies wouldn't have anything to do with writing, but oh, they do. We got a puppy in October. She's now about 4 1/2 months old...a chocolate lab named Dorrie. We named her after Dorrie, the little witch, a beloved character in the books that I used to read when I was a kid, and from Anaedora, her first name. Her full title is Anaedora Deogee (DOG). How does she relate to writing? She is very good at keeping me from it. Since getting her, she has definitely made her mark on our family - in more ways than one.

So, to my list: You know you have a puppy when...

1) Your clothes have more holes in them than Swiss cheese.

2) Your white carpeting is now polka-dotted yellow and brown and your hardwood floor is covered with muddy footprints that look surprisingly wolf-like.

3) You find yourself yelling "Get down!" even though you're not breaking into dance, which is what you usually do.

4) You end up chasing her because she got away from you and ran into the road, and there sitting and watching you looking like an idiot as you try to catch your mad puppy, are the local police.

5) Your hands have tiny little scratches all over them and a few dents, as well, because she's teething and decides gnawing your hand helps alleviate the pain.

6) You have to warn your children about yellow snow and how it's not from someone spilling lemonade.

7) Your lawn is littered with potholes.

8) You have to shovel out a play area in the snow or come out with an umbrella in the rain, which she finds icky even though she's supposed to be a water dog, all so she won't pee on the porch.

9) You start referring to yourself as her mommy or daddy.

10) Your tupperware is now a play toy.

11) Taking your dog for a walk on the leash has become the new aerobics.

12) You are able to blame certain odors on her.

13) Your mother keeps feeding her treats even when you've asked her not to.

14) The reaction her little puppy stomach has to those treats is what causes those certain odors.

15) You actually let something lick your face.

16) Your mouse doesn't work because she chewed through the wire.

17) The tiny Christmas figures that populated your sweet, little Christmas village are all headless and the conductor has no arms.

18) You love her despite your vows to send her back to where she came from after she either poops under the piano yet again (because she knows it's raining outside) or gets dog slobber all over your underwear that you were going to change into after your shower, but she somehow managed to find on your medievally high bed.

Okay, I admit that I love my dog, though I'm not sure why. Pets are supposed to help lower your blood pressure, but I must be doing something wrong, because all mine do is raise it. If I'm not chasing after Dorrie and wrestling her to retrieve one of my kid's hats which she plucked off his head while he was sledding, I'm cleaning up hairballs or chasing cats away from sharpening their claws on the bedposts. Plus, I'm allergic to cats.

I'd write more, but I have to go stop my dog from tackling the children.

P.S. If you want to order my book, please be patient as we are currently experiencing a vendor problem that my publisher is feverishly trying to fix. You were going to order one, right? Of course, you were. I have to have some way to pay all my vet bills.

Lovers of the Classics

2009-01-03T20:15:00.012-05:00

To anyone out there who loves Masterpiece Theater, classic literature and/or romance...PBS is showing Tess of the d'Urbervilles (starting Sunday, January 4 at 9:00 p.m. ET and continuing on the 11th) and Wuthering Heights (January 18 and 25, @ 9:00 p.m. ET). I'm so excited! I hope they're as good as they look...

Here's the link to the site:

PBS Masterpiece Theater

Enjoy!

New Hampshire Loses Power; New Hampshire Writer Loses Mind

2008-12-16T14:16:00.009-05:00

It’s been four days since an ice storm hit New Hampshire and what a crazy ride it’s been. President Bush even declared a state of emergency here in the Granite State. Trees and power lines are down, roads are blocked and electricity has been cut off. Many people still don’t have power. PSNH, our electric company, says that this storm has created the worst damage they’ve ever had to deal with in the history of the company.

Oh, lovely.

Day One: It’s Thursday. My husband and I left home at 2:00 in the afternoon for his appointment to receive laser eye surgery to control bleeding in his eye (he’s had diabetes since he was 14). We were blissfully unaware (at least I was) that a storm was approaching. On our way home, the roads seemed fine to me, probably because I drive like a turtle…until we reached the last road to our house, that is. It’s pretty much uphill all the way and every time I accelerated, the car slid on the pretty sheet of ice coating the black surface of our road. Even though I’m from Minnesota, I’m not a good winter driver (I never got to use the car much). When I was in graduate school, after an ice storm, I stepped on the brakes for a stop sign and ended up turning the car completely around (hmmm…maybe that’s why I didn’t get to use the car much). Fortunately, my husband knew what to do, calmly telling me shift into a lower gear before we died a horrible death. That helped a lot.

Happily, gratefully, we made it home in one piece. We discovered that school had let out early and that my middle child’s holiday concert had been canceled. No sarcastic comment from me about being glad about the cancellation - I was really looking forward to it. Really! But then, I have no life. Having nowhere to go, we settled in for a warm, safe evening.

It’s now midnight and the sound of my 4-year-old son crashing through the baby gate (lodged firmly in our bedroom doorway to keep our puppy from destroying the rest of our house) wakes us. My husband, dragged from his usual coma-like sleep, leaped out of bed and immediately went into commando mode, fists up, feet a-shifting back and forth, ready to take someone out. Luckily I had figured out what had happened and hissed at him to knock it off before he hurt himself. He eventually settled down and we soon determined, from the lack of a clock light, that the electricity had gone out. The absence of sound had awakened our little one, sending him hurtling down the stairs in the dark. Smart. I calmly explained to him what had happened and told him to go back to bed, so he climbed into ours. That’s not what I had in mind, but I tried to make the best of it (we only have a double bed). After about a half hour of getting squished he decided he’d had enough. I carried him back to his bed and he went right to sleep.

Morning dawned. It was dark and still sleeting out. Everything was coated in a silvery layer of ice. Our deck, the grass, the trees. Branches were drooping as though drained of life. Limbs were breaking. We climbed out of bed to a frigid bedroom. We quickly dressed like nobody’s business and fired up the wood stove. We closed off as much of the house as we could to keep at least one area warm. When that was done, my hubby and I headed outside to start cleaning up the slush/ice. It took a while because the ice is pretty thick and hard, plus it was still sleeting/raining out. We knew it was going to get cold later, however, and we can’t afford to let the driveway freeze. It’s on a hill and my minivan would never make it - not going out, which is downhill, nor coming back in, which is uphill with a drop-off on the other side. If you accelerate and then don’t slow down in time, you’ll shoot off the other side like the Dukes of Hazard. Daisy, I am not.

As we worked, the ominous sounds of snapping limbs and jarring crashes caught at our attention, reminding us of the power of ice and to stay out of the woods. Once in a while, a car drove by, some speeding as though the driver was needed in surgery, others crawled along, knuckles white. Otherwise, it was quiet. Later, when we did a tour of the yard, we found huge broken limbs scattered about, several landing on our woodpile, of course, and one big tree down, ripping out the roots as it toppled. No major damage, though, and we were thankful.

The cold front arrived that afternoon. Temperatures plummeted. We got a phone call - we happen to have a phone that works without electricity (having learned our lesson when I was pregnant and our electricity went out and it was a blizzard and I wasn’t all that far from my due date, and we had no phone). It was the guy who’s fixing our car door (Thursday morning my husband backed out of our garage while the car door was still open - our 6-year-old neglected to close it, after which it would neither open nor close). He had fixed it - lovely man - so that we could now open and close the door, but probably shouldn’t. More importantly, we could now open the front door, too (that’s the door I use - I am not crawling through the window. Remember? Not a Duke?). We decided to leave it as is - a much cheaper way to go, plus it didn’t look too bad. My husband calls the remaining dents his Persian Flaw. We just bought the car in August, of course, brand new and shiny, a rarity for us. So much for having one thing that our children haven’t ruined.

Anyway, as I was driving to go pick up the car, I encountered a downed power line and a snapped pole. The tracks of previous cars showed that they just blithely drove under the sagging line, though barely, so I thought I could, too. I made it, just barely, but farther down the road I spotted an orange diamond-shaped sign that said Road Closed. I read it in the rear view mirror as we continued merrily on our way. Hmmm…how interesting, I think. Now how are we going to get back home? The electric company had been starting work on the pole as we were passing it, so it looked like we would have to find an alternative way home. That was quite an adventure in itself, finding a way that wasn’t blocked by wires or trees, and in a new neighborhood. But we found a way, only because the weekend before I took my oldest to a birthday party. Strangely, at the time he wasn’t up to going and I didn’t particularly want to take him, but we had committed to it, so he had no choice. Our family keeps our commitments. He ended up having a really good time, I learned about some new back roads, and our conscientiousness later paid off. Good karma is a lovely thing.

We have a gas range so I made dinner quite easily that night. The ice cream was starting to melt, though, so I put it on the porch, resisting the temptation to eat it all right then (I was going into survival mode). It was 3 degrees outside. My hubby and I later dragged our mattress into the living room to sleep. It was very warm in there and, you’re going to want to kill me here, actually got too warm. Thankfully, we survived the heat and awoke to the dog dragging our quilt off the bed because she was trying to kill it. The fire was out and it was only 60 degrees in the room. Day Two had begun.

The ice on the trees was so beautiful, the smell of wood smoke in the air tantalizing, the lack of power freeing us up to do other things. This was all well and good, but my hair does not handle not being washed on a daily basis. It looked greasy and lank and strange ratty bunches were starting to form at the nape of my neck. My 4-year-old kept insisting that we’d lost our electricity because we’d been wasting it (I told him that was something that might happen in the future, but not today). My back hurt from shoveling ice and hauling wood, I wanted water in a bad way, and I missed my writing. Being a modern woman, I do my work on a computer. Jane Austen, I am not.

Still, we managed to enjoy the morning…until my husband went out for water and returned with the news that the earliest we’d get power was Wednesday (it wasSaturday). I **apped my pants. Okay, I didn’t, but it was disappointing news to hear, to say the least. I was starting to understand Jack Torrance in The Shining. Despite my growing demented state, I settled in for the long haul. I’m nothing, if not a survivor. I also sharpened my ax.

At supper we roasted hotdogs over the fire, followed by marshmallows. Later, while washing the dishes in an inch of water that I’d boiled on the wood stove, I noticed the flashing orange lights of an electric truck on the road. I’d seen a couple trucks stop at that same spot before and nothing had come of it, but this time I kept my eyes on that truck. I sensed electricity in the air. Time passed, nothing happened. I spotted the dark outline of our neighbor going down to talk to them - maybe to threaten them. Then a miracle occurred. The electricity came back on! We had lights, heat, and a return to civilization! We zipped out onto the deck and hooted and hollered and shouted, "thank you!" I hope they didn’t think they’d electrocuted us.

We were very lucky to get our power back so soon and still hope to share our good fortune. I’ve offered friends the use of our shower and hope they don’t have to take us up on the offer because that means they got their power back, too. Though I’ll be glad to help them if they need it. Our freezer is open, too, if anybody has food that requires it. Problem is, it’s hard to call anybody and check on them. We can call out on our phone, but those in need can’t get the call unless their cell phones have service (which doesn’t always happen when you’re at home in this wooded area of NH). Of course, we lost power again today, so that didn’t help matters, but we got it back again a little over an hour later. I think they were fixing other lines. I hope that’s all it was. It’s very windy today and wind does not bode well for power lines.

So, I admit that I didn’t actually lose my mind. Our family survived quite well. I discovered that I can make do without the amenities of hot water, computers, TV, and maybe even flourish. I discovered that I’m addicted to writing, but could make do with taking notes for new book ideas. I discovered that the old kerosene lamp I bought at a yard sale works really well. I discovered that the little stream running near the house provides good water for flushing the toilets. I discovered why people in the old days went to bed so dang early.

Power has been restored to our home and my mind has been restored to its former lucidity. But you know what? I wouldn’t mind losing it again, just not for a while. I have some writing to catch up on, and a hotel to run…

Why Can’t Life be Unfair in My Favor?

2008-12-14T09:10:00.005-05:00

Nine-year-old Alex Greven gets a book deal. Have you heard this? Does it make you want to scream? If you are a struggling writer or author like myself, you probably know where I'm heading with this. Does it seem fair to you that a 9-year-old should get his 46-page book on "How to Talk to Girls" published, and by HarperCollins, no less, when the rest of us have invested our hearts and souls and worked our fingers to bloodied stumps writing fascinating and compelling 300-page novels that no one wants?

Not to me.

Am I jealous? You bet your booty. Little Alex writes a pamphlet to sell on the playground and ends up getting published...and Fox has acquired the film rights! If I tried to sell my book on the playground, I'd be hauled off to jail. Here I am working my little patootie off while he's raking in the money giving advice about how to get a girl (and maddeningly, he just might have some valid points). I'm saddened by this news, but not surprised.

How is this fair?

But heck, this is America. Land of the free and home of the brave. I should be glad that I am free and try harder to be brave. Good for Alex for doing something besides playing video games and torturing small animals. He is hope for future generations. Also, taking sneak peeks at the book, he's pretty funny, too. Dangit.

Alex, you just keep on keeping on and ignore embittered authors like myself. We're just jealous.

Terribly, horribly jealous.

So what's a person to do with this jealousy? Well, first fix yourself a bowl of ice cream and then devour it. After stewing and complaining about the unfairness of it all for a couple hours, take a deep breath and redirect all that energy into the positive. That means, get back to work. Tell yourself that someday your efforts will be acknowledged, someday they will pay off. Because, chances are, if you're that dedicated and motivated, things will work out...

Then life will finally be unfair in your favor, at the expense of someone just like you used to be. Won't that feel great?

NaNoWriMo Is Dead to Me

2008-12-05T10:33:00.003-05:00

Did I say that? What I meant is that NaNoWriMo is finally over. Whew! I’m elated. I did not finish my novel, nor did I finish editing Anaedor, the Second. But I did manage to cut down four trees with my husband this last weekend.

That counts for something, doesn’t it?

I did make really good progress on my book, however. I now have about 155 pages (started at about 73) and have made it all the way through Anaedor and am now just cleaning a few things up. So, despite the added stress, I have to say that NaNoWriMo wasn’t all bad. I’m glad it’s over, though.

Now maybe I can do some leisure reading at night, catch up on my Ghost Hunters episodes, take a shower. You know, the essentials. Speaking of Ghost Hunters, the season finale takes place in Portsmouth, NH, one of my favorite little cities. And…my niece actually met Jason and some of the TAPS crew (or possibly the camera crew). Here’s the kicker…she had no idea who they were. She doesn’t watch Ghost Hunters. I’m not sure I can find that at all amusing. I watch Ghost Hunters, I would have recognized them. But did I meet them? Did I even know they were in town?

Nooooo!

Life goes on (not for her, though) and I am looking forward to seeing this last episode and getting my life back on track. Of course, with the holidays fast approaching and my four-year-old continually asking me how many days until Christmas (I tell him the number and the next day, he says, is it 49?), I might not make it to the New Year. Or my children won’t. We’ll see. We might be seeing survival of the fittest at its finest these next few weeks.

One final note for this stunningly uninformative and bland blog: I will be doing a book signing Saturday, December 6th, from 9-3, at the Strafford School in Strafford, NH. Come by and say hi!

Is This the Twilight of My Life?

2008-11-24T09:57:00.007-05:00

Before going to see a movie, I like to read other people’s reviews on it. Otherwise, if it’s something I’m really looking forward to, my expectations go through the roof and are bound to be dashed on the rocks of despair because nothing can be as good as how I’m imagining it (I also don’t like forming my own opinion if I can help it). As I was somewhat interested in seeing Twilight, though not as psyched as the Twihards, I’m sure, I thought I’d better make sure I wasn’t too hopeful about the outcome. Actually, my main objective was to see if the movie would be better than the book. Several reviewers expressed great disappointment with the film, preferring the book, though there were several who loved it (and not all of these were of the teenage persuasion).

I, myself, was somewhere in between…

I’d just read the book about a month ago, so the story was fresh in my mind. Like other reviewers, I found that the movie was reasonably true to the book, though there are a few things that I felt it did better. In my opinion (which I know I’m not alone in), the book could have used a bit more oomph in places, especially in the descriptive and action department. That was not a problem with the movie. The visuals, at least the backdrop of the story, were lovely - dark and dreary and mysterious. The action was better in the movie, as well. The book tended to lead you up to the action, then drop you off before anything really happened (I’m mainly referring to the fight scene), leaving you to fill in the gaping hole. It is a tension tease!

Contrary to some other reviewers, I also thought the actors did a decent job, and some were even quite good. A few predicted that being in this movie is going to kill certain of the actor’s careers, which I think is ridiculous. Sure, some of the scenes were a bit overblown…Bella being all frustrated and confused, for one, and the last hospital scene for another, but I thought Robert Pattinson as Edward and Kristen Stewart as Bella played their roles how they were meant to be played. The book does not provide a lot of insight into who they are or why they are the way they are, so I think they did the best they could with what they had.

My first impression of casting was that someone got it all wrong. Each time I’d see a new character, I had to do a mental race to figure out who they were meant to be. Especially the first time I saw Carlisle. Well, I knew right away who he was meant to be, but he looked terrible in his pancake-white makeup, like Casper all grown up. As the movie developed, however, I was happy to see less and less of the pancake. It was like the director realized the mistake and made changes as shooting went along, but didn’t feel like re-shooting those initial scenes. Also as the movie progressed, I was happy to find that the actors had developed their characters to a point that I was able to recognize them, and maybe even like them more than I did in the book. Case in point, I thought Anna Kendrick as Jessica, the friend, was great. In fact, I thought she even spiced up the character and made her more likeable. I also felt that Peter Facinelli worked well as Carlisle - I would have liked to have seen more of him (once the pancake faded).

There were a few scenes throughout the movie that especially caught my attention, either visually, or through the compelling factor. The one scene where Edward shows up in his car to rescue Bella - that was very Bond-like and quite cool. I also felt that the scene where Bella walked past Edward in the school parking lot and he turned to follow her up the hill and into the woods was very well done. Another scene I enjoyed was the tree scene, where they were perched high as an eagle in that enormous pine overlooking miles of breathtaking hills and trees and lakes, then later, becoming completely involved in the scenery of each other.

I think the main appeal of the Twilight series is not that the story revolves around vampires, it’s the unusual relationship between Bella and Edward. Anyone who has an ounce of romance in them must have felt some allure there. Who doesn’t want to be singled out - chosen - by someone with the power and mystique of Edward (and who hasn’t found anyone else good enough in almost a hundred years)? Who doesn’t wish to have someone who will protect you, take care of you, who cannot be harmed themselves? Edward is the quintessential mate. He has good morals, yet underneath possesses a secret, a burden he must struggle with - he is the lost soul that our hearts go out to. He is beautiful and alluring to all those around him, yet he chooses you just because of who you are. He has power and strength. He cannot die. Edward has it all. Sometimes I think we are all searching for someone like Edward - someone who is so darn amazing, yet finds us so darn amazing that they’re willing to sacrifice or suffer terribly just to be with us. Wow. It’s like he’s God personified (or vampirified).

Bella, on the other hand, is meant to be like the rest of us schmucks. She was obviously written to be very human, glaring flaws and all. She also feels undeserving of any kind of love or attention. Day to day, we look for acceptance, kindness, even a little interest shown in us. We want to seem special, to be more than just another number heading toward inevitable death without anyone noticing. We want to be that ugly duckling we feel ourselves to be, suddenly burgeoning into a swan. This must have happened to Bella (the name means beautiful, of course) and that’s why we can relate to her (well, more that we just want to be her). Having gone so long unnoticed, she is uncomfortable with the transformation, which gets a little old after a while. I wish she would accept herself so that she can actually relax a little. But that's just me.

In the end, the book and the movie are fantasies and that’s what I took them for. If you aren’t falling for certain things (some people hated the glittery skin idea), I recommend just letting it go. Fantasies have the power to do whatever they want, no matter how unrealistic. That’s why they’re called fantasies! Admittedly, I would have liked to see more of this and that in both the book and the movie (why is Bella so down on herself? What does she see in Edward beyond his beauty?), but I can’t deny the allure of them both. Stephenie Meyer happens to have caught that appeal. Her story gets at the heart of a basic human desire, and that is, we all want unconditional love.

Though I ask you (and Bella), what good is unconditional love if you don’t feel that you deserve it? Come on, Bella! You ARE good enough, smart enough, and gosh darnit, people like you! So just take it and enjoy your vampire love.

Twilight

When the Skies of November Turn Gloomy

2008-11-21T09:19:00.002-05:00

Gordon Lightfoot is one of my favorite singers. Whenever November rolls around, I think about his song, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," a moving homage he wrote about the ship, The Edmund Fitzgerald, which went down on Lake Superior, November 10, 1975. It’s a fitting tribute to this dangerous month, when the winds blow up trouble, the skies turn gloomy and winter thunders in.

It is particularly fitting this year…

That’s because I’m doing this challenge. I almost wrote stupid challenge, but I didn’t. Even though I desperately wanted to. I’m tired out. Not yet burned out, but getting there. This isn’t good, you know. I started out so positive and full of spirit at the beginning of the month. Now I just want to kick someone to the moon.

There are various factors as to why I feel this way, one of them having much to do with the temperature. It is 29 degrees outside. Since moving to New England eleven years ago, I have never seen it this cold this early in the season (though maybe I’m repressing it so don’t go looking it up, Anal-Retentive Guy). Of course, when I first moved here, the weather forecasters would say things like, "It’s going to be frigid tonight, folks. Down to eighteen overnight, I’m afraid." Silly me, being a native of Minnesota, automatically thought eighteen below (zero, that is). Nope. Just eighteen. These New Englanders are a bit wimpy, I thought.

Well, I’m singing a different tune now. Eighteen is frigid and that’s all there is to it.

Anyway, I was talking about the challenge. It’s going slowly. I’m on page 140 as I write this. I have definitely made progress and also only have 40 pages left to edit for Anaedor 2. Still, it seems to be going so slowww. Really, though, I should just be happy that in the midst of preparing for a craft show, for Thanksgiving, for the holidays (I like to get all my shopping done by the end of November because I like torturing myself), and for death, that I’m making any progress at all.

Part of the problem might be all the time I put into these blogs. I slave over them, I pull my hair out over them, I weep over them. I’m sure that it shows.

Ha.

Anyway, I plan on doing something relaxing soon, which should help with this blah feeling. I’m going to see the movie, Twilight. Being as it’s a book about a female heroine and mysterious creatures (kind of like Anaedor), I thought I should read the book, which I did, and see the movie, which I will, then review it. So stay tuned for my definitive blog on the movie.

I bet you’re all-aflutter!

NaNoWriMo Is Hard to Say

2008-11-14T10:15:00.005-05:00

I think NaNoWriMo is hard to say, probably because I say it wrong. I say the Wri part like ree instead of the correct way, rye, which makes a certain sort of sense, but is much less fun to roll off the tongue.

Do you even care?

I hope not. Okay, so the challenge continues. This week has definitely been slower on the writing/editing front, but I’m still making forward progress. Why are things slow? Because there have been a few distractions along the way, like hospital visits, allergy attacks and reading other people’s blogs - dang them for being so tantalizingly intriguing! During my bloghopping, I came across an audio commentary that you should take a listen to. It definitely has an alternative, perhaps less supportive, view of NaNoWriMo, that I think you should be aware of. Here’s the link. Come back when you’re done.

So did you listen to it? I think Jeff DeRego makes some valid points, although I can’t say he’s completely right about everything because I’m taking the challenge, and agreeing with him would make me look like an idiot. I do agree with his take on the process of writing. Writing isn’t simply about producing, it’s about making sure that what you’re producing isn’t complete crapola. On the other hand, before starting the Anaedor series, I wrote four novels that were complete crapola and I wasn’t even in a hurry.

Okay, so here’s the deal. Whether or not you agree with either of us, if you’re going to take the challenge, do it with a big grain of salt. It’s nothing, if not motivation, to get yourself seated on your hiney and putting in some time. People are their own worst obstacles. I think that if you sit down and write a lot of pages, maybe even complete something, you’ve shown yourself that you can do it - that writing a book is achievable. In the beginning stages of becoming a writer, I don’t think it matters what you’ve written. What’s important is getting over that hurdle of starting and then finishing what you started. Keep in mind, as well, that editing was invented for the main reason that most of us don’t get it right the first time.

As Jeff maintains, you certainly don’t have to write every day to be a writer, but it also doesn’t hurt to write as much as you can for the simple fact that more practice means better writing (and it also becomes easier over time). However, if you don’t write every day, if you don’t complete the challenge, I truly believe that somehow you will survive and maybe even flourish. The main point is that you need to find what works for you and then try to stick to it.

In the end, books don’t write themselves. Sad - shocking even - but true. If you want to be a writer and someday, hopefully, a published author, then you’ve got to write. It’s that simple.

So far this challenge has forced me to be productive at a time when I kept putting off writing to do other things. I am sincerely thankful for this push because while I was missing my writing, I was not carving out the time to do it. Whether or not I meet my goal of completing my book this month is not important to me, but getting back on track is.

So thank you Jeff DeRego for putting this challenge into perspective and thank you NaNoWriMo for kicking me in the butt!

My Momma Done Called the Cops on Me!

2008-11-09T14:53:00.004-05:00

Yes, you read that right. My mom called the cops on me, and I didn’t even do anything wrong. Loyal readers, you know I can’t go too long without something strange happening in my life. This is the latest.

It all started on a wet and wild day…

It was around 4:00 in the afternoon and I decided to take the kids and our puppy out for a walk. I needed the exercise, as did the dog, so I decided we’d all head out in rain gear, with umbrellas clutched firmly in hand. Having discovered a lovely stream a couple weeks ago that was about a 20-minute walk away, we headed for that. It was slow going in rainboots, but we still made good time, enough for the kids to muck about and make leaf boats when we arrived at the stream.

We couldn’t stay long, though. It was daylight saving’s now, losing us an hour’s daylight, and overcast from the rain, to boot, so I decided we’d better head home - it was starting to get dark. So we tromped and trudged along on the journey back, not thinking about much of anything but getting home. We weren’t too far from the house when my mom scared us by calling out my name. When I finally figured out that it was her and not the fairies I’d been discussing with my four-year-old, I answered back that we were coming.

She met us at the garage and told us she’d been worried because it was dark (it looks much more so on the inside looking out). I assured her that we’d been able to see the whole way home and then asked her what time it was (not too long after 5:00). We’d only been gone a little over an hour. I thought she was overreacting a bit, but, oh well. Little did I know.

So we get inside the house and the kids are stripping down and toweling off, when my oldest son says, "What’s that big truck in the driveway?" Well, it turned out to be a fire truck, lights a-flashing, along with several other trucks. I gaped. Two of my sons are in their underwear, I’m wet and trying to dry off a sopping puppy whose only goal in life is to eat the towel I’m using and my mom says, "Oh, I know what that is. But I canceled that." Well, apparently they didn’t get the message and showed up in force to track down the missing lady and her kids who, might I remind you, had only been gone a little over an hour. Needless to say, I was feeling very embarrassed by this turn of events. Having come from a strong Norwegian background, asking for help was like asking someone to stick a pencil in your eye, God forbid you get noticed for anything, even good stuff, and looking foolish is as good as getting a death sentence. I can just imagine the conversation at the fire station now…Remember that idiot lady who took her kids for a walk in the woods in the rain and dark and nearly gave her poor mother a stroke from the worry? What a neglectful mother and daughter she was.

Egad.

I eventually forgave my mother for jumping the gun…she’d made soup for our supper, along with excellent homemade crescent rolls so I told her she was off the hook, though she could still bet her booty that I was going to be blogging about her boo-boo. That’s what she gets for being a worried mother. Sigh. It’s nice to be cared about, but I hate that kind of attention. It did help that all the guys who came out were really good about it. Said they were just glad they didn’t have to go trekking through the woods. As they were leaving, Dorrie tried to go with them and I had to pick her up in her little towel and carry her back inside, mumbling about how I was going to kill my mother. Luckily they didn’t hear me or I’d really have been in trouble.

By now I have kind of recovered, and am glad we’re new to the town so I shouldn’t get teased about being lost in the woods for an hour. Just in case, though, I think I’ll wear sunglasses and a scarf for the next few weeks.

Anyhoo, I wasn’t going to blog about any of that, but it came up so I thought I’d better get it down while I was still mad.

Now…back to my regularly scheduled blog. Remember that I’m attempting to finish a novel in the month of November without going mad? Well, on November 1st I started with about 73 pages with the hope of completing the rest of the novel in 30 days. So far, I am rocking the house! Somehow I am managing to write 5+ pages a day and enjoying it. Working around kids, a puppy, storytime at the library, the election, a baby shower, and getting ready for a craft fair (I ordered 1000 bookmarks and have to trim them all because the stupid company didn’t cut them right), not to mention the whole cop trauma, I am still managing to write.

Of course, getting enough sleep is another matter.

Relaxation time has gone out the window, as well. But here’s what’s helping. Both my husband and I are taking the challenge. He’s not writing a book, but he’s making a new website and wants to finish it this month. It always helps to have a partner who is working as hard as you do. If he were sitting on the couch watching Ghost Hunters and eating Cheezits all evening while I was trying to keep my eyes from closing for a little snooze, I would be tempted to join him. Instead, he’s in here with me, working just as hard. Misery sure does love company, doesn’t it?

The strange thing is, I’m not actually miserable. While I trim bookmark after bleepin’ bookmark (and permanently cripple my back), we catch up on our day, discuss world events, wonder what to do about the puppy who keeps chewing on our computer cords, and sing along to Dido. It’s actually been kind of nice.

So far, I have written 32 pages. Of course, that’s 32 pages with lots of dialogue, which really can make a book fly by. Yeah, dialogue! I’m sure I’ll slow down as the days pass, but it’s definitely an awesome start. I’m shocked by it, actually. What also helps is knowing that the Thanksgiving holiday is coming up. I want to get most of the book written before then so I can actually enjoy the vacation. Which I do think is achievable.

But only if I don’t end up on COPS for being in the toilet too long.

Thanks, Mom!

The Scariest Challenge Ever!

2008-11-01T15:28:00.007-04:00

For the last of my Halloween blogs this year, I am actually going to write about something happening in November, and I'm not talking All Saints Day. I am talking about a challenge. This challenge is so scary that I'm not sure I'm up to it myself.

What is it, you ask? Well read on, oh intrepid ones!

Okay, here's the challenge. I didn't invent it myself, but I am going to try and do it anyway (other people's challenges are always risky). According to the website, NaNoWriMo, which is short-hand for National Novel Writing Month, November is the month to finally write that novel you've always wanted to write. Here's the catch. The creators of this website challenge you to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Off the top of my head, I figure that's approximately 1666.66 words a day (4 1/2 to 5 typewritten pages, give or take). Why? Because they are sadists. And because issuing such a challenge, with a deadline, will give you motivation like you've never had before.

Personally, being somewhat of a rebel, I'm going to take on a modified version of the challenge. I have already started a novel, about 70 pages in, and my challenge is to finish it by the end of November. Doing it this way, I won't qualify for the website's contest, but I'm okay with that. This is a personal thing.

But I'm too busy, Kristina! you cry. I'll write my book when I'm ________ (fill in the blank - retired, done with having kids, recovered from malaria). Well, I'm busy, too. At the same time that I'll be writing this novel in one month, I will be editing another novel, potty training a puppy, raising three boys, running a household and taming a wild Rhinoceros.

Beat that.

This will probably be the death of us, but what do we have to lose (other than our lives?). Mostly sleep, I suppose. And any possible relaxation time. But what will we gain? A book. An entire novel filled with words we put together all by ourselves. It may not make any sense, it may be a pile of crap, but it will be ours.

To prove that I'm not making this up, visit nanowrimo yourself to see what I'm talking about. It's a neat website and the creators seem like fun, albeit sadistic, people (although the two may go hand in hand for you). Also, stay tuned for weekly updates on my progress and feel free to comment on your own. Remember, united we stand, divided we fall. So don't let me down. Also, just so you know, if I fall, I'm taking you all down with me.

Good luck and Happy Halloween!

Graveyard Madness!

2008-10-27T08:24:00.002-04:00

I like graveyards. More than I should, some would say. I’ve read book after book on these strange and mysterious places, I visit them whenever I can (one more reason why New England is such a great place to live), and I always slow down when I see them near the road, much to the annoyance of the drivers behind me. Sometimes I think I’m more at home in a graveyard than a mall full of people.

But maybe that’s because the dead are easier to talk to.

Over the years, I’ve seen countless graves, some elaborate, some just the facts, ma’am, some are only a stone without words. I think these blank faces sadden me more than the ones with words. Someone cared enough to mark the passing of a loved one, but could not afford to pay for a gravestone. Most likely it’s the grave of an infant or young chil who did not survive long enough to warrant the expense of a gravestone. That sounds coldhearted, I suppose, but when it comes down to buying a stone or feeding your remaining children, I think it’s only right to choose the living. The stone, unmarked, is still a memorial, whether it is fancy, or not. Someone cared. At least that’s what I like to think.

There are so many graves in this world. Children’s graves, mother’s who’ve died in childbirth, young men sent off to war, only to return home in a pine box. There are those who have lived decades beyond many of their peers, though such a long life was not necessarily a blessing. You can just tell by their gravestones that they were miserable old codgers. Mean in life, mean in death.

Others have a sense of humor about passing into the great beyond. Here are some funny epitaphs (I told you I was sick!)…

~~~

Here lies the body

Of Margaret Bent

She kicked up her heels

And away she went.

~and~

Jedediah Goodwin

Auctioneer

Born 1828

Going!

Going!!

Gone!!!

1876

~and~

Here lies Barnard Lightfoot

Who was accidentally killed

in the 45th year of his age.

This monument was erected

by his grateful family.

~and lastly…

Ann Mann

Here lies Ann Mann,

Who lived an old maid

But died an old Mann.

December 8, 1767

~~~

Over the centuries, countless gravestones have been knocked over, broken, or stolen. Others have simply sunk into the ground, slowly disappearing beneath a mound of thick moss. A fitting blanket for the resting soul. Perhaps the stone survives, but the writing has faded into non-existence, courtesy of the wind and rain. We may never know who lies beneath the grass. But then, there are a lot of dead who have been lost and forgotten.

Along with our new house, we acquired a graveyard. It’s a family one, with about seventeen gravestones. We managed to find one stone buried beneath the moss and leaves, nearly forgotten. Why were we the ones to find it when the previous owners, who had lived here for seventeen years, did not? Is there a story developing here? I wonder. Or is it simply a footstone, nothing special? Whatever the answer, it’s up to us to find out. Whoever it belonged to won’t be forgotten. Not on my watch!

One of the occupants died young - age twenty. Her tombstone is the most ornate of the bunch; she was obviously much loved. There are many tombstones here with the same name, or initials - a line followed, though sometimes broken. A few are children. How painful to consign a once warm, living being to the cold earth. I can understand the desire to lie down next to your beloved to keep them warm. Macabre, you think? Or human? On the other side of the coin, I have a relative who bought up twelve plots because she doesn’t want anyone to be buried by her. She will be the lone tombstone. Sounds lonely to me. No beloved will warm her plot.

There is no joy in a graveyard, yet they are not especially sorrowful, either. These idyllic spots always seem such peaceful places to me. That is, until a hand reaches up out of the ground and grabs my leg. But typically that’s no big deal. You just shake it off. They don’t mind. When my husband hides in our graveyard at night, while playing hide-and-seek with the kids, he swears he feels someone tugging on his leg. I tell him to stop being such a wimp, it’s only the spirits wanting to play.

My youngest son is glad that we bought this house because, "If somebody dies, then we have some place to bury them!" He’s a strange child - I don’t know where he gets it from. Okay, he gets it from his dad. Maybe a little from me. I do like graveyards, after all. Though here’s the funny thing. Even though I like them, I’m not sure I want to end up in one. I hate the idea of putting a lead-lined coffin into the ground - it’s so poisonous and unnecessary. I recently read about places that are eco-friendly, returning to the simple pine box of old. Hmmm… I like the idea, but I’m not sure I’d want to be buried someplace I’ve never been to. I’m also not sure I like the idea of being buried, and possibly still alive. There was a brief time when they would bury a person with a string attached to both the supposedly deceased’s hand and to a bell above ground - just in case they were still alive and needed to let somebody (who was hopefully paying attention) know. Of course, being incinerated, which is my other option, doesn’t leave much room for error, either.

Perhaps I will, like a wild animal, just crawl into the woods one day and die (provided, of course, that I live to a ripe old age and am allowed to die naturally). Under the shelter of a grand, old tree, my body will rejoin the earth, my flesh will become food, my bones, play toys for coy dogs.

It seems the ultimate way to give back and certainly better than being stuck in the ground or burned up. But that’s just my opinion. I might feel differently when I’m dead.

I’ll be sure to let you know…

Who You Gonna Call? Ghost Hunters!

2008-10-20T20:24:00.011-04:00

As part of my October blogging funfest, I couldn’t possibly leave out a review of one of my new favorite shows…Ghost Hunters. I got hooked on the show last season because of my mom. She needed someone to share her addiction so she taped a bunch of episodes for my husband and myself (at the time we didn’t get the Sci-Fi station because we’re frugal). That means we were able to watch several episodes, one right after the other. We got hooked.

And now we have Sci-Fi.

I blame my mother for our decision to get the extended cable package, just so we can watch Sci-Fi. It’s not something I would do for myself. It costs more money and I really don’t want the kids watching TV all day, or myself, for that matter. But since she’s living with us now, I figured we’d better keep her happy by making sure she had her favorite channels to watch. I did this all for her. It had nothing to do with my wants or desires.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Anyway, Ghost Hunters centers around TAPS (The Atlantic Paranormal Society), a paranormal research group that travels around the U.S. gathering evidence to either confirm or debunk a purported haunting. Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson run TAPS out of Rhode Island. Surprisingly, they are about as normal as you probably could get for being ghost hunters. They seem to love what they do, but they are always happy to head home to their families at the end of the day. If they look tired to you, it’s because they are. They do all their investigations at night (natch), after working all day as plumbers for Roto Rooter.

Compared to a good portion of those working in the paranormal field, TAPS takes an unusual approach to their investigations. Their first priority is to debunk a haunting. That means they want to try and prove that what is happening is not paranormal. They appear to be very serious and dedicated to finding other explanations and are slow to call a place haunted. While they have both had their own paranormal experiences (which they won’t talk about), they are healthily skeptical and prefer to take a scientific approach to their investigations. I don’t know about you, but this makes me enjoy the show all the more. I guess it’s because when they do find something they think is a haunting, you feel like you can really believe them.

While ghost hunting, they use an array of technological devices to help them track down spirits (a.k.a. entities, full body apparitions, shadow figures, but rarely called ghosts). A few of my favorites: the thermal-imaging digital camera, which is used to record images often created by heat signatures that humans cannot see with the naked - or partly dressed - eye; a recorder that tapes EVPs (electronic voice phenomena), capturing voices or sounds ordinarily not picked up by the human ear; and K-2 meters, which measure magnetic fields. Oftentimes, the researchers use the K-2 meter to communicate with intelligent hauntings. I like watching it light up in response to questions, and not just because it’s pretty. You really feel like they’re having a conversation with the entity, or whatever it is. One time they asked a spirit, which was supposedly a 9-year-old boy, are you lonely? And he responded with a fervent, "Yes." How did they know the spirit was a boy and nine years old? They asked him.

One of my favorite episodes happened right here in my own backyard at the Mt. Washington Hotel. A princess is purported to haunt the premises (I believe it is the Princess Clarigny de Lucinge). While doing EVP work, Grant and Jason captured her replying to one of Jay’s questions. He said something like, "Where are you?" and she replied, "I’m in my room. Where are you?" At the time, he couldn’t hear her, but later when they played the EVP recording, it was very clear - I could hear her perfectly.

The Princess is what you would call an intelligent haunting because she can interact with you. A residual haunting has no sense that you are there, just keeps repeating whatever it does over an over again. I once read up on a theory that postulates that we are not actually seeing or interacting with a ghost (the spirit of a dead person), but are crossing a time-space continuum. So the princess might actually have been alive, but in her time, while Jay and Grant were doing their ghost search in their own time. It kind of makes sense to me, in a weird, fascinating sort of way.

I feel bad for the people who want ghosts and no evidence is found and vice versa, those who don’t want ghosts and several are found. Service places (restaurants, bed and breakfasts, bars) tend to like having stories to tell about hauntings. Having evidence to back up their stories always makes them that much more alluring. It’s kind of sad when TAPS does research (at the library, town hall, or on the internet), which actually shows that the stories behind the hauntings aren’t even close to being true. I think we all like a good story, and we all want to believe in that story. Their job is to debunk, which is good, but sometimes I’d rather be fooled.

One of my favorite parts about Ghost Hunters is the interaction amongst the crew. Things seem to be more tame this season, but in previous seasons there were a lot problems to work out. As an unapologetic voyeur (though not the creepy type), I like watching conflict. Jay and Grant are funny guys, and Steve, the tech guy is a smart aleck if I’ve ever seen one. He likes to poke people and his current favorite target is Tango. Tango is such a sweet guy and probably a bit naive, but he is learning to stick up for himself. Interesting fact: Steve is scared of just about everything (heights, spiders), but he’s a ghost hunter. Go figure. Kris (the main female) serves as their liason to the customers and also goes on investigations. I like her, which is too bad. No conflict there. Sigh…

This sounds morbid (which I am), but I always like when they visit asylums, prisons, and places of that sort. Tons of activity is always happening in these buildings, most likely because there’s been a lot of suffering and death inside them. On Friday, October 31st, starting at 7:00E, a special Halloween TAPS takes place at Fort Delware, a very active site. It’s supposed to be an awesome episode and you can participate in live feeds and all that fun stuff while watching. Plus, it’s hosted by Josh Gates, host of Destination Truth and one of my favorite television personalities. If you have trick-or-treating duties, you’ll have to Tivo it. We don’t have Tivo (we’re frugal, remember?) so we’ll probably have to tape it. Or go T-o-T’ing very early, which sounds better. Poor kids.

So, if you ever encounter a spirit, entity or things that go bump in the night, tell me, who you gonna call?

Ghost Hunters!

I Captured Me A Castle!

2008-10-10T11:01:00.015-04:00

Well, not really. Wishful thinking on my part. But I did visit one this weekend, named…wait for it…Hammond Castle (cue thunder and lightning now!). As part of my October blogging spooky funfest, I thought I’d share my experience with you so that for once you’ll have to live vicariously through me instead of the other way around, which is what usually happens. Not only is this castle awesome, it’s located in the U.S., which means most of you Americans reading this won’t have to cross an ocean to see it. To add flavor to my blog (just a pinch of spice), I also want to share a couple of the strange things that happened to us while we were there.

Paranormal stuff, that is…(cue thunder and lightning now!).

First off, I’ll tell you a little bit about the history of Hammond Castle. It’s located in Gloucester, Massachusetts, a beautiful town stretched out along the Atlantic Ocean. It was built by John Hays Hammond, Jr. (the guy on the right) between the years 1926 and 1929. A world traveler and inventor, he built this home for his new bride and also to accommodate both his artifacts gathered while traveling and his laboratories for inventing all his hundreds of inventions. Thanks to Mr. Hammond, we have the remote control. It if weren’t for him (and a few others) I might actually have to get up off the couch to change the channel, and that’s just wrong! You da bomb, John!

John Hammond was, at least in my (always) humble opinion, a very unique and interesting man. I think you’ll agree when you see what he did and what he created. Inside the castle, you will find one of my favorite places - a conservatory made to look like a town square. The main feature of this glass-ceilinged room is the gorgeous, plant-lined pool that can be filled with tap water or switched to seawater with just the pull of a lever. There is also an optical illusion in the pool that I’ll leave for you to discover when you visit. Fun fact: Back in the day, Mr. Hammond used to jump into the pool from one of the windows overlooking it, which would have been quite a leap from what I can see. If I had lived there, I might have tried it myself. Admit it, you would have, too.

The kids especially liked seeing all the weapons and the suit of armor, sneaking up the spiral staircases that led to the turrets, and staring at the pool, wishing they could swim in it for just a ‘little’ bit. I was of the same opinion as my wee ones, plus I enjoyed visiting the rounded library, walking through the great hall and imagining this was mine, all mine!, studying all the old artifacts (including a skull, which I’m in the market for myself), and taking in the views overlooking the ocean.

I’m thinking of putting in a bid for the place.

Now comes the paranormal part…While we were there, my husband decided to take a picture of the two younger boys in front of the suit of armor. It was my middle child’s turn. While he was patiently trying to maintain his he-man pose, my husband was fiddling with the camera, which was not cooperating. Suddenly, my hubby looks up at us.

"That’s weird," he mutters. "The words (or something close to this), ‘You are not authorized to proceed as it is not deemed to be a public photograph’ just came up on the camera screen." We looked at him strangely, as we so often do, and he shrugs. "That’s what it says." We don’t know what to tell him. Too bad it disappeared before I had a chance to confirm his report. At any rate, he finally got the camera to work and was able to take the pictures in front of the suit of armor without consequence (i.e., the ghost of John Hammond did not strike us down). Not long after that, I tried to take some pictures of my oldest son and the dang camera wouldn’t work. I kept pushing the button and finally had to turn it off and back on before it would work again. Now I know this can be put down to a mechanical problem with the camera (I’ll mention here that when we left the house, our camera was fully charged and working well), but those words coming up are hard to explain away. If this is something that can be debunked (yes, I watch Ghost Hunters), please let me know. It’s a Kodak, Easy Share DX6490. The strange thing is that I feel like I’ve heard about this before.

So what had happened here? Was it a ghost? Maybe. The camera malfunctioning? Possibly. Was it spooky? Most definitely. Good thing I like spooky.

As you can see, we always enjoy our visits to Hammond Castle. Every time I go I feel like I learn something new. For more information on the castle, click here. Keep in mind that they put on a Halloween extravaganza (which I’ve never been to and would like to try out) in the middle of October, closing the castle to regular tours during those few weeks. I advise that you call ahead. For more photos of Hammond Castle, go to my photo page. Also know that there is a nearby park (you pass it on the way to the castle) for rock climbing, playing, beach combing and picknicking. We typically visit the castle, then have lunch at the park. Though we’ve also hit a couple of the restaurants for yummy chowder, like we did this last time (since it was raining).

I’ll leave you with John Hammond’s words, written in a letter to his father in 1924:

"My ambition is to leave a modest, but beautiful, museum. I want only an authentic atmosphere, some furniture, and genuine architectural pieces — doors, windows, etc. In cold restrained New England, a place with the romantic beauty of the Italian and French past may prove the inspiration of many poor artists and students to come. It will give them something that I have been fortunate enough to know and enjoy. It also gives me satisfaction to think that I may be able to produce something of lasting worth."

I believe he certainly accomplished that.

Where in the World is Harry Potter?

2008-10-09T19:49:00.000-04:00

Imagine my dismay when I went to look up the date for the next Harry Potter movie (HP and the Half-Blood Prince), knowing it was going to be in November and getting excited, only to find that it’s been moved to July of 2009! My reaction…?

You’ve got to bleepin’ be kidding me!

Okay, okay. I know this news broke in August, but I’ve been a bit behind on things these days. Still, I was really looking forward to seeing the H-B Prince this fall. It’s been a long summer with moving and all and this movie was serving as my perfect escape to look forward to. I don’t know what the big wigs were thinking, pulling such a stunt. All the reasons they provided seemed pretty silly to me and explained nothing. Here’s two of them:

Alan Horn, President of the WB, said, "Our reasons for shifting ‘Half-Blood Prince’ to summer are twofold: we know the summer season is an ideal window for a family tent pole release, as proven by the success of our last Harry Potter film, which is the second-highest grossing film in the franchise, behind only the first installment. Additionally, like every other studio, we are still feeling the repercussions of the writers’ strike, which impacted the readiness of scripts for other films–changing the competitive landscape for 2009 and offering new windows of opportunity that we wanted to take advantage of. We agreed the best strategy was to move ‘Half-Blood Prince’ to July, where it perfectly fills the gap for a major tent pole release for mid-summer."

First of all, what’s a tent pole release? Sounds a bit naughty. Second, making such a move makes people feel bitter, especially as this stunt seemed to be all about money (and making headlines). It makes people not want to go see the movie just to prove a point. I’m still going to go (I don’t like cutting off my nose to spite my face - I’m the only who loses on that one), but I won’t like it. And that really takes away from the whole idea of Harry Potter. Magic, Fantasy, Heroism, Flying on Brooms. Harry Potter should be bigger than just the bottom line. Fans don’t want excuses about why they’re being disappointed, they want their movie when it was promised to them. I really don’t care that it puts the date closer to the release of the final movie (which is being split into 2 movies - oh, and what’s up with that?). I want my Harry Potter now!

I vote that we should get a discount on the movie price that the head honchos take out of their own pockets. That might go some ways toward making me feel better. At the very least they should pay for my popcorn and jujubees.

What do you think? Can we get them to do it? We’ll go see your movie, Mr. Horn, but first we have some demands. We pay your salary, show us how you earn it. We might even make him dance.

I think Harry Potter and the gang would approve. Now who’s with me?!

Destination Truth...Or Bust!

2008-10-03T10:55:00.006-04:00

My friends, I have discovered a new show on that wacky machine we call the television. I don’t normally watch too much TV, preferring to…yes, read. However, my mother got me hooked on Ghost Hunters (which I will be blogging about some time during October - my month dedicated to Halloween topics, i.e., anything to do with the spooky) so naturally I began to catch glimpses of the Truth. Having seen the teasers, I ‘accidentally’ left the TV on just to see what the heck all this hype was about and got sucked into the fascinating world of Josh, Ryder, Casey and the rest of the Truth Crew.

Let me tell you something…those kids are crazy!

Seriously, they do things and go places I can’t even imagine fantasizing about doing or going to. At the beginning of the show, Josh, the show’s host and most intrepid of the bunch, says to us, "In my travels I’ve seen some unexplainable things and I’ve done some things I can’t quite explain." He means it. I sincerely believe he would walk a tightrope over the Grand Canyon while fending off hungry buzzards just to find a monster that may (or most likely doesn’t) exist. Oh, yeah, that’s what this show is about…chasing monsters (and yes, there is an uncanny resemblance to Scooby-Doo). On Wednesday’s episode, Josh joked that the rest of his crew was having trouble getting through customs because the officials weren’t buying their reason for being in the country…"Um, yes, we’re here to chase monsters." Can’t say I blame them.

The monsters the crew has chased after are pretty awesome - though some are kind of funny (like the three-foot tall monkey man). Just recently the crew chased after the Ahool - a giant flying bat with the face of a monkey and a 12-foot wingspan. I also saw an episode where they searched for angry spirits ‘living’ in a haunted cave in the middle of the jungle (which the crew could only visit after securing, for protection, a bottle of sacred water obtainable at the bottom of a sheer cliff - even with that great protection, their native guides abandoned them after only a short time in the cave). There was the Yowie to track - a bigfoot-like monster (I swear every country has their own version) and a wicked looking dinosaur in Australia. Two different episodes explored claims of giant water monsters - neither of them Nessie - one of which lived in mercury-infested waters (a mutant in mercury-poisoned waters? what a surprise!) in a lake in Indonesia. I’m not sure if I admire the crew’s decision to dive in deadly waters to search out the monster that was scaring the fisherfolk, or amazed at their lack of intelligence. Okay, they weren’t being stupid…they knew the risks they were taking, but wow, they went ahead and did the dive anyway because they wanted to reassure the frightened people. I hope they don’t end up growing another head from their exposure…great, another mouth to feed! Talk about no good deed going unpunished.

Ryder is the only female member of the crew (that I’ve seen so far). She’s an interesting study in contrasts. Here she is on this show choosing to do all these dangerous things, but she doesn’t seem all that thrilled to be doing them. I like this contradiction. Something else I’ve noticed: they often put this camera on her shoulder so that you get this close-up of her face (typically in the dark), which is always very expressive, especially in the green glow of night vision. If something is going to happen, you’ll see it on her face. She always looks ready to bolt at the first sound, yet she continues to go out on these adventures again and again. Why? I’m not sure. Still, I am impressed with her gumption. Though maybe she does these crazy things because she’s in love with one of the crew members. I have my guesses as to who.

After doing a little research, I just found out that Ryder has a first name…Erin. I thought it was Ryder. And Casey grew up on a farm. And Josh has a degree in Archeology and Drama (go figure). They take a medic along with them named Jarrod, who is just as involved in the adventures as everyone else. He is trained in deep sea diving and saving lives. They seem to use his services a lot. I think they also need to add a mechanic (and/or a mechanical engineer) to the crew. Things are always breaking on them.

During one episode, while in Australia, the crew drives by a sign that says, "Don’t risk your life" and Josh turns to the camera with this this querying look on his face, like what’s that all about? But does it stop him? No. Not jeeps that break down, day-long train rides, spider bites, cliffs, or lack of evidence. He is unstoppable, like a superhero, or something.

At any rate, I can’t wait to see where Josh and the Truth Crew are heading next. I haven’t even seen that many episodes yet but I’m already a convert.

But maybe that’s because I can handle the truth! Can you?

The Truth

It's So Hard to be Good

2008-09-19T10:43:00.001-04:00

At the beginning of the summer I issued forth a challenge…the Push-Reel Mower Challenge. Remember that? I was going to try to mow our yard all summer using only a push-reel mower. It was a good and worthy challenge, some might even say a tantalizing one (okay, just me because I have no life). Unfortunately for the environment, I was not up to it. I only managed to use the push-reel three times this summer. I’m giving myself a grade of suck minus for this one, folks.

That’s the lowest grade I’ve ever gotten, and I gave it to myself.

Okay, so here’s the deal (get ready for the excuses). After I issued the challenge we found a house we wanted to buy and had to quickly put our house up on the market. We desperately needed to make the yard look more presentable so we wouldn’t be dealing with two mortgages. I think our push-reel does a good job mowing, but it’s not the tidiest way to go about getting the job done. Second, we went on vacation for two weeks. When we returned, we found a jungle awaiting us. Our dandelions were actually roaring. Out came the gas mowers once again. Third, the house we bought came with a lot of grass. Horror of horrors, we actually had to buy a riding lawn mower (well, we didn’t have to, but I would still be mowing today if we hadn’t). Before we took this drastic step, I tried mowing with the push-reel mower, hoping to use it in some areas - it didn’t work. The grass was too long. So I tried the push-gas mowers. Tragically, after an hour and a half I died (at least that’s what I told my husband), with most of the yard left to do.

I’d really wanted to be good to the earth, to conserve and nurture, but this was too much for me to handle! So what’s a girl to do? Granted, I kind of like whipping around on my riding mower now, though the hills are a bit daunting (that whole tipping over thing, you know), but I don’t want to keep this up. The rider mower (Bubba) uses a lot of gas. We needed a better solution, which I soon provided. It was an answer to all our problems and inspired by a genius that stunned even me. I said to my husband, "We must buy a goat."

He laughed at me.

So we didn’t buy a goat, but what we are going to do is create a huge vegetable garden, reduce the size of the yard where practical, plant a giant flower garden in a large space by the house, and fill in smaller areas around the yard with any plants we can find (preferably big ones). Plus, there’s one area we will probably only mow every other time. I’ll have my oldest boy do some of the mowing with the push-reel once the grass is down to a manageable length. We’re also composting like crazy to reduce our waste and to help us do all this gardening we’re planning to do. I even set up a clothesline of sorts in our laundry room so I can continue to hang clothes to dry instead of using the drier.

Can’t you see I’m trying! I’m really trying!

So how did your challenge go this summer? Hopefully better than mine. Did I disappoint you? I kind of disappointed myself. But all I can do now is move on and try to improve.

Or better yet, buy a goat.

Michelangelo, I Ain't...

2008-09-12T08:14:00.000-04:00

These last several days, I’ve been spending my time painting the innards of our house, and I have to tell you that it’s been a real pain in my behind. It seems to be a neverending process that never ends (oh, yes, the writer in me just exploded with description there!). I have paint in my hair, under my fingernails, on my clothes and on various body parts that don’t normally sport green paint (except on St. Patty’s day). My hand hurts from gripping my little paint container and I think I pulled a tendon standing on my tiptoes. The funny part? Everyone keeps asking me when I’m going to paint the ceiling. Har dee har har. I’m not going to paint the ceiling, people! Okay, I’ll admit there are a few green marks on the clean, white expanse that might have led them to believe I was going to paint the ceiling. But those had nothing to do with the fact that I can’t steer an elephant! That insane implement, that steam roller, just kept on rolling even when I didn’t want it to. Worst of all, at the end of this humbling experience, I have been forced to admit something that I never wanted to admit.

Michelangelo, I ain’t…

Painting is a chore to me, and a senseless one at that. It’s like doing laundry or cooking meals - mind numbing and seemingly futile (just like resistance against the Borg). All right, it isn’t completely the same as these daily/weekly chores. Once you’re done painting, you’re done. Plus you have a lovely result at the end of it all that won’t need to be repeated for several years. When I was painting, though, I didn’t care about any of that because I didn’t believe it. This task felt like something I’d be doing over and over for the rest of my life. The Groundhog Day of chores! It’s hard to believe, but when I first started thinking of painting (I really needed to put to rest the rumor that I was afraid of color), I was going to paint almost the entire house. But I kept chickening out, until there was only one small area left that I was willing to do (or couldn’t talk my way out of since I’d told people I was going to paint). And that small part took me three days to do.

I simply can’t believe people choose to do this for a living.

But then, there are people who can’t believe people actually choose to write for a living. For them, writing is an agonizing process best left to the monkeys. I have never found writing to be agonizing, but I have found it to be hard. Especially when I started out writing novels. It seemed like getting a page down on paper was an Olympic event comparable to water ballet (you may scoff but try doing what they do - you’ll sink like the Titanic). But like every effort, practice does make your task easier. Of course, some of us can practice and practice and never be a Michelangelo. I, for one, fall into that category. I shall never be a Shakespeare.

So why bother doing it at all, you ask? Because I’m a masochist. That’s why.

So here’s my plan. I shall keep on writing and drop the painting. I’ll leave that to the painters of the world. Now, if I could just find a way to drop the cooking and laundry, I’d be all set. Any volunteers? It’s really very fun. Fabulous, exciting, in fact! I’ll even let you do it for free!

Just drop me an email and I’ll be sure to get back to you.

What the @*%& ?!

2008-09-05T09:18:00.000-04:00

My husband always has a way of making life interesting. We finally closed on our new house, signed all the papers, gave away a lot of money, and were leaving the building when it happened.

My husband started to choke...

Yes, that's what I said. He started to choke. We were in the parking lot at Re/Max and he began making weird noises (okay, that's not the unusual part). He could not talk, nor could he breathe. All signs of imminent death, I believe, resulting from a blockage of the windus pipius (sorry to get so technical on you).

This is how it happened. My hubby has Type I diabetes and during the closing he started to get low blood sugar (I could tell because he was actually trying to read what he was signing). To raise his blood sugar, he takes glucose (fast acting sugar tablets that are about the size of a 50-cent piece - they kind of look like giant Smarties and yes, my children covet them). While we were in the parking lot he decided to take one more for good measure. A moment after he popped the glucose tab into his mouth, he saw a bumper sticker with a picture of George W. Bush on it looking rather goofy, accompanied by the letters WTF? My husband started to laugh, sucked back the glucose tablet and essentially blocked his windpipe. Once I ascertained that he was choking, I had to do something. So I did the Heimlich on him.

Now, I don't know if any of you have ever had to perform the Heimlich, but I imagine it's not something most people think about doing. Unless you have kids. They choke on things all the time - at least my part human, part vacuum cleaners do (I'm still not sure if they actually chew). The point is that I've visualized doing the 'maneuver' many times and partially had to do it a few times on my little rugrats (after back slapping, which is the recommended method for alleviating choking, didn't work). Plus, it didn't hurt that I'd taken a CPR class, too, so I knew where not to Heimlich. Maybe because of these efforts on my part, the attempt to dislodge the foreign object was very successful, with no internal damage as a result. I must say I'm awfully glad. We still had a lot of heavy lifting yet to do.

So we are now in our new home...alive and kicking. The first week and a half were a tad stressful. I was about ready to drop kick everyone I met (I didn't care who you were) into next week. But now things are starting to settle down. I can actually check my email, write a blog, sleep. Life is good here on the farm. We have lots of fruit to eat, vegies, too, and lots of space for the kids to play. Though I still have to cook and clean toilets. I was hoping all that would change when we moved.

No such luck.

Despite this hurdle, I am thankful for my life, for this wonderful new home we have, and for Mr. Henry Heimlich. Say hurray!

I Like Batman!

2008-08-14T15:11:00.000-04:00

Yes, it's true. I went to see the new Batman movie: The Dark Knight. This type of movie is not really my cup of tea, but it was my night out for my birthday and I wanted to see a movie. Being that there was nothing else I wanted to see and since I'd heard that lots of people (including my niece) liked the movie, I thought we should give it a try. Plus, it had the words, dark and knight in the title, both concepts which are my cup of tea.

Drum roll, please...

I liked it. I really did. At first, when it started out, I thought, "Uh, oh. I've gone in with too high of expectations. This is really hokey." But that feeling didn't last long. I had to laugh when Batman's car in the opening scene told him to, "Loiter," a version of "wait for it, wait for it!" Then the computer screen switched to, "Intimidate," which is what he went on to do (though that part was some of the hokey part). Still, even though I ended up liking the movie, I'm surprised that I did. At the end of it I felt like I'd gone through a blender. In my opinion, the movie was a giant mess. The action scenes, characters, and dialogue seemed to be all over the place. Luckily, at the time, I decided to just go with it. That turned out to be the right decision. It's quite possible that I should have seen some of the other Batman movies first, but I didn't, which might explain why I got a bit lost. It didn't matter, though, because the movie just grew and grew on me. I got really caught up in it - until one particular scene when I thought the movie was going to be over soon - but it wasn't. But that was okay, too. I quickly adjusted and settled in for some more action...and popcorn.

I particularly liked Batman's motorcycle, especially when it comes out of the car. There was just something very powerful about that scene - kind of like a birth. I don't recommend trying the stunt at home, though. You'll ruin your car, not to mention parts of your body.

Heath Ledger as the Joker did not disappoint. The hype that's been going around really has substance this time - he was good. Very good. Creepily good. It's almost too bad that he was so good. Besides the fact that our world has lost another young person to an unnecessary death, as well as a great actor, we have lost a good Joker. No actor that I've ever heard of will be able to follow up Heath Ledger's performance. He is the Joker. It seems an ironic twist that of all the great performances he's done, this is how we may best remember him. Maybe he'd like that, though. I think I might, if it were me.

I didn't have a problem with Christian Bale's altered voice as Batman...maybe because I'd heard so many people complain about it, so I was prepared. The only time it struck me as funny was that he sometimes sounded like he had a lisp. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with having a lisp, I'm just not sure Batman should have one. That would be for another story.

The ending fascinated me, as well. I won't tell you what happened, of course, but I must say that it made me think. I hadn't expected a Batman movie to make me think. Concentrate on what Commissioner Gordon say about the whole 'hero' idea. Learn it, live it, love it. I'm planning to.

And now, to the Bat cave!

Egad, We're Homeless!

2008-08-04T16:23:00.001-04:00

We have officially sold our house. We are homeless! Well, not exactly…we are living with my sister for the next three weeks. It’s me and my husband, our 3 boys, my sister, her daughter, the new renter, 6 cats, one little dog, and my mom.

Yeeha!

Life is going to be interesting, I think. But that’s what life is all about…suffering.

Anyway, in my last blog, I started chronicling about my trip back to Minnesota. To be honest, I’m kind of getting bored with that so I’ll only spend time commenting on our visit to Howe’s Caverns in New York, which we saw on the way back home. Having written about a world that takes place in caves, it only seems right that I should research these underground worlds. So, whenever I can, I visit any caves I can find. As proof, I plan to purchase a t-shirt for those caves I have visited (though on a few I will have to backtrack since I just came up with this idea). In any case, it should be rip-roaring fun.

Okay…so back to Howe’s Caverns. Like Niagara Falls, finding the caverns wasn’t as easy as I thought it should be. On the way to Minnesota, we took I-90. On the way home, we took I-80 through Pennsylvania and then cut upwards into NY…It’s cheaper that way (no tolls). On I-90 there were several signs for the caverns, but when we took the other way, there was nothing. When we were really close to the exit, we found one or two small signs for it. Again, to all you tourist traps, I need big signs - at least one telling me I’m close! When you’re driving 70 mph, you need something big and easy to read. Of course, I’m also not a big fan of giant billboards, so really, there’s just no pleasing me.

Can you just get to the caves part, Kristina? I can hear you saying that, you know, but the thing is, I wasn’t all that impressed with them. They weren’t very wild or majestic, simply underground. The walkways were nice and neat; there were even some stalagmites they let you touch. You can take a boat ride on a stream, too, all the way up to waterfalls, which, unfortunately, you can’t see. The best part of the tour was at the very end when we passed through this winding passageway. That was very cool. You can also pay more money and do real caving in parts of the cave, but only at certain times. I would probably have liked that more. The kids liked it, however, and they got caving helmets, so the side trip wasn’t a total washout.

When I was a kid, my family visited Crystal Caves in South Dakota and I remember loving it there. Here in NH, there’s a great place called Lost River Gorge and Boulder Caves. It’s not one big cave, but a series of smaller ones you can inch your way through at your own pace. In one, you have to crawl on your stomach to get through. I totally loved that one and want to head back this fall and do it again, though I might have to cut back on the donuts. It’s a narrow space.

So, can I recommend Howe’s Caverns? Not wholeheartedly. I think it would be all right if you don’t like to get dirty or like your experiences well-organized and choreographed. There were several interesting and elaborate signs, however, along the way to the caverns that spouted an even better experience than Howe’s Caverns nearby called the Secret Caverns. You might try that instead…I think you might actually get to see the falls.

Try both, spelunkers, and let me know how it goes!

Niagara Falls - This Way!

2008-07-25T19:31:00.001-04:00

We are packing to move. Well, more accurately, I am packing. My husband is working and my kids are annoying the heck out of me. Anyway, today is supposed to be my birthday. I keep forgetting. We aren’t doing anything special - I’m saving that for a day when things are less hectic. It’s raining and I’m tired.

So glad I was born.

Actually, I am. Just feeling a wee bit sorry for myself. Getting older, getting podgier, and I can’t seem to acquire enough boxes.

Okay, here’s Trip Update #1: On day one we drove to a small town close to Niagara, New York. That was our first mistake. The first town we hit, there wasn’t a hotel room to be found. We checked several places only to find that the prices were outrageous. Though it didn’t matter because the inn was full (it was Saturday night, some kind of Canadian holiday, and we were close to a major tourist spot- what did I expect?). On to town two…Here we managed to snag the last room at a decent hotel (that means it had walls and a roof). They were hosting guests for two or three weddings on that very day. As you can imagine, we were thrilled to have it, plus there was a Denny’s right across the street - I kid you not!

The next morning we set off in high spirits to see Niagara Falls. Have you ever been? We haven’t. It’s not all that easy to find, at least, not from the direction we came from (and this was after we tried to follow the hotel’s directions, which were typed up, and which led us in a circle, the sneaky buggers). Once in the actual town, I kept looking for a big sign saying, Niagara Falls - This Way! along with flashing lights and a giant arrow. Maybe one of those airport guys with the orange batons waving us in the right direction. No such luck. We ended up in a part of town that looked rather seedy, so we got out of there quickly. Hopefully heading in the right direction now, we passed a couple moving along the sidewalk, one of whom was in a wheelchair. We joked that they were probably going to make it there before we did. I don’t think we were far off on that calculation since we made yet another error in direction and they got way ahead of us (the wheelchair wasn’t even motorized, either).

Finally, after some hysterical laughter and a few smart remarks aimed at each other, we got into the downtown area. My mom tells my husband, turn right! Well, he did. But too soon. She wasn’t expecting him to go two-wheeling it. I’m crying, "Not this way! This is the bridge that goes to Canada!" Now, I don’t think you need passports yet (2009, I believe), but I didn’t want to take the chance. Any day now those Canadians are going to start cracking down on us Americans - payback, I’m sure. Who knows what kind of search they’d put us through…something involving body cavities? Egad. Luckily, the guy at the booth told us we could back up. So we did, though we ended up going out the wrong way and nearly hit a car in the intersection that wasn’t expecting us to be there.

Anyhoo…As it turned out, the next right was the right right. Shaky, but alive, we emerged from the car only to discover that my husband had lost his insulin (possibly at the last hotel). Luckily he had extra and we continued on our way into the welcome center where we were welcomed…until the guy at the counter realized we weren’t going to pay $50 a person to do the grand tour, or whatever it was he was talking about. We wanted to walk - which is free - and only pay for the Cave of the Winds. I asked him which way to go and he waved his hand in the general direction of "I don’t care where you go, just leave my presence." So we decided to use the bathroom (which could also be called the Cave of the Winds depending upon what you had to eat the night before) and regroup. Parked outside the women’s bathroom was a man hawking his wares. I don’t even know what it was he was selling, but I do know it was rather creepy seeing him there. On the plus side, the bathroom had some toilet paper, though the area itself was not the cleanest. Surrounded by all that water, but none to spare for the bathroom, I guess. At any rate, we regrouped and got better directions from a nicer gentleman who pointed toward the Falls rather than waving in its general direction.

Finally, we found the Falls. I have to say that Mother Nature did not disappoint. They are certainly fabulous and worthy of a visit - I’m a writer, but I’m not going to attempt to describe their majesty. The kids had a great time on the Cave of the Winds tour. We wrapped up in yellow ponchos and cheap rubber sandals and braved the mists. There wasn’t actually a cave - I believe it collapsed some time ago - but that was okay. The views were gorgeous from every angle and the kids liked getting really wet. My mom decided not to do the steps because her knee was bothering her, so she went back to the car. While she was trying to communicate this to me over the roar of the waterfall and down a set of stairs, my husband got really low blood sugar. So they’re gesturing to me and I, of course, have no idea what they’re talking about. Finally, she just left and my husband joined me and we had to wait until he got his sugar back up to normal levels before he passed out. After that, we somehow managed to have fun without falling in. I highly recommend standing on the Hurricane Deck. But be prepared to get wet.

So that was our trip to Niagara Falls. Loved the Falls, didn’t like the service center, or whatever it’s called. I’d recommend going to see the Falls, but pack a lunch in case you get lost like we did. No need for cannibalism.

Oh, by the way, the wheelchair couple made it there before us…

Take A Drive on the Wild Side

2008-07-18T13:11:00.001-04:00

For those of you who might have noticed, I took a brief hiatus from my blogs. Why? Well, my family and I were busy driving back to mine and my husband’s home state of Minnesota. It took us three days to get there. Three days in a minivan with three boys, three adults and a little dog, plus all our stuff (which tripled on the way home). Somehow we managed to make it there and back safely…

Without anyone having to be put to death.

Several people asked us if we had a DVD player for the kids. I said no and they looked at me like I’d just told them I liked eating brains. I was telling the truth, however. We went on a family vacaction the old-fashioned way. We played games (how many different states can we find - we did pretty awesome on that one), sang songs ("Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree. Merry, merry king of the bush is he. Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra. Gay your life must be…" over and over), the kids drew a lot of pictures and studied the landscape. My youngest slept a lot. They entertained themselves for the most part, which made life a lot easier on us adults.

Really, they were just great. I couldn’t believe how well-behaved they were, both on the way there and back. I am feeling quite proud of my boys. In fact, they seemed to just enjoy the trip, the driving, the time with Grandma playing games. Of course, now that we’re home, they’re making up for all that lost time arguing by putting extra energy and effort into their fighting. But that’s a price I’m willing to pay not to have to deal with their bickering while my husband is navigating Chicago traffic or I’m trying to find the way in to Niagara Falls without accidentally crossing the border.

Anyhoo, we did a lot of stuff that I’ll blog about over the next few weeks…things involving black powder guns, hunting for artifacts and caves (yes, caves!).

So stay tuned!

I Have A Vision!

2008-06-19T09:01:00.000-04:00

This post is going to be messy and most likely discombobulated. My life is crazy right now (I think I’ve said this before). We are moving! We have found a new house - not a castle, not yet, anyway - but a farm that even has a cemetery on the property. And we are also selling our old house (which, in this market, is amazing in itself). The problem is…the new buyers want our house by the end of July. We can’t move into our new house until late August. That means we are moving twice.

I’m feeling faint.

We will be living with my sister, her daughter, my mother, her little dog, their three cats, our three cats, my three boys, my husband and myself…during the lovely month of August. Pray for us.

To add to this rollercoaster ride that I’m on, I have changed to a new publisher, Variance (Breakneck Books is merging with it). I was a little worried that my book wouldn’t make it through the first round (a small release, which if it went well, would turn into a big release). Anaedor is not really the same kind of book as what the other authors do, so I thought I’d be the first to go. That was until I received an email a couple weeks ago from my publisher saying he wants to do a re-release of Anaedor. I think that means we’re skipping over the small release entirely. That’s what I’m hoping anyway!

Here’s the kicker…He’s going to have an artist draw little pictures above the chapter headings and do a new cover (although I love the old one - kudos to Breakneck on that one). He wanted to be sure to get my take on the whole process and see that the artist captures my vision. My first reaction was, "That is so awesome!" My second was, "I have a vision?" Later, I realized that I didn’t really believe this was happening - I’m still not sure that I do. Knowing that things can go wrong, I am being pessimistically optimistic about it all. If it actually goes through - hurray! If not, well, I was expecting it not to, anyway. Now I have all my bases covered.

The cool thing is that it’s typically nearly unheard of for a publishing company to get the author’s feedback on the process. I feel so blessed to be consulted! The artist called me a few days ago and she was so nice. I’m really looking forward to working with her and seeing her take on my ‘vision’! Plus, she liked my book, so she can’t do anything wrong in my eyes.

So a lot is going on in my life, but it’s all good. And as I’ve said before…It will get done; it always does. I’m just wondering who’s going to do it.

The Magic Scales

2008-06-13T13:54:00.002-04:00

You might remember me mentioning a while back about how I did some editing work for a new fantasy author, Scottish writer, Sam Wilding. His book is titled The Magic Scales and has just been released. I told him that when his book was published, I would do a review on it, so here it is…

I really liked it!

Yes, there’s more. Here’s what the book is about:

The Magic Scales takes place in Scotland (well, some of it). The main character is a 12-year-old asthmatic boy named James whose father has recently gone missing. After running off to an old stone circle up on the moors (think Stonehenge) to escape all the gossip surrounding his dad’s disappearance, James discovers a dead animal that had just been crushed by what looks like a giant foot. This gruesome finding is the first in a series of harrowing , life-threatening experiences that James goes through (including nearly being killed by a gargoyle). Not long after the squished animal finding, he meets a talking goldfish who is actually a wizard named Mendel (see if you can figure out how James manages to carry this fish around without it asphyxiating). Mendel is from another world - Denthan - whose twin suns are about to explode, destroying his world forever.

Well, as you might guess, it doesn’t take long before James is involved in Mendel’s quest to return to Denthan and save its citizens. Unfortunately for them, there’s a bad guy named Dendralon Pendragon who is controlling much of this world, who will do whatever it takes to stop them. Joining James is his friend, Craig, who has a wee bit of a problem with diplomacy, always putting his foot in his mouth and getting them into trouble. Along the way, you’ll meet a bunch of strange and mysterious creatures, including monstrous tree trolls, the fierce Osgrunfs (hairy creatures that look like overgrown sloths, but are faster), and the nasty Hedra (that are reptile-like creatures). Keep in mind that none of these fun guys seem to like humans. In a race against time, James tries to help Mendel save his world, but even more desperately, he needs to find his dad, who he believes is on Denthan, as well.

Remember, Denthan’s suns are about to blow up at any time.

The Magic Scales has a lot of action and adventure, fighting and swords, interesting characters and humor - all the elements I look for in a good book. One of my favorite characters is Craig, James’s friend. He’s such a big goof and is always saying, "Ye numpty!" I also like the character, Ephie Blake, a rather large, cantankerous woman who’s always eating fudge. There are tons of other neat characters and monsters to surprise you, as well. There are even human-eating moths.

Reading a book by a Scottish author was an interesting experience. The British spell things differently than us Americans, phrase things differently, or use words I’ve never even heard of. How cool is that?! Sam wrote The Magic Scales for his son who struggles with asthma. He helps the reader see what it’s like to have the added burden (because life is hard enough) of a chronic illness or disability to contend with.

You can find The Magic Scales at Amazon.com U.S. and U.K.

Happy Reading!

Life Is Crazy!

2008-06-09T17:17:00.000-04:00

My life is feeling a little out of control right now. We have just found a house we want to buy, we have to sell the one we’re living in, we have travel plans this summer, the kids are sick and so am I, we’re in the middle of a heat wave, our second car (which my husband drives to work so that we can keep eating) is dying, and I am in the midst of doing some author visits at the middle school today and tomorrow, not to mention all the end of the school year activities that are going on.

Yikes!

But it’s a good kind of busy so I am trying to see things that way…to just enjoy the ride even though right now I feel like I’m melting.

I had my author visit at the BPLibrary last Monday and that went well. There was one young woman who volunteers at the library that attended and she is so full of energy and motivation and excitement about writing that she made the event well worth it (that, and the free brownies!). I also made new author connections with two neat authors, Susan Colebank and Phil McGrail - go look up their books - they’re good people with good books!

Thursday I hope to publish my review on The Magic Scales, a new book by Scottish author, Sam Wilding. If I forget, I will try again next week. Since I feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears, I might forget. But I’ll get to it eventually. I typically do. My new mantra has become, "It will get done. It always does." It’s true, so I need to start believing in it. Someday I will.

Anyway, stay cool, New Englanders, and stay tuned for my review!

Pedal Go-Karts: The New Cool

2008-06-05T17:14:00.001-04:00

Well, we did it. We took our economic stimulus check and stimulated the economy. We bought go-karts! I’ve always wanted one and now, being the wacky adult that I am, I have gotten one - well, two. But we didn’t get the motorized kind, we got the pedal kind! They work really well for the kids - they can’t go too fast (but fast enough for the thrill), the boys get good exercise peddling those monsters up hills (as do my thighs), and there’s no gas to pollute the air or drain my wallet!

I love them!

But that’s no surprise…I’ve got the need for speed. Just coasting down my driveway to pick up the mail brings a smile to my face. Even my 3-year-old can ride them (we bought the ‘age 5 to adult’ sized ones). He must have a lot of determination because those things are kind of heavy.

The one down side to them: I made the mistake of putting a horn that my sister had given the kids for Christmas on one of the karts. It was the only one that still had the necessary hardware to attach it to the bike (my middle son decided to take the horns apart and lost the important pieces - I have yet to find them). Of course, he’s the one who has the most fun honking that thing every few seconds to let people know he’s coming, and it’s really LOUD. Thanks, sis.

Another cool thing about the karts is that they’re red (which means fast, you know)…with big tires. You can even put a flag on them. If you’re really feeling crazy, you could splurge for a wagon to hook up to the back so you can haul other kids, mulch, firewood, your boat, etc. You can actually buy these pedal ‘cars’ where you can seat four people and everyone pedals. They’re awesome. There’s no other word for it, except maybe fabulous.

I’m really glad we bought the go-karts. I couldn’t just sit back and watch our country spiral into a recession without doing something about it. After all, my motto is, "It’s all about others." Actually, it’s kind of neat how many of our neighbors see them and give us big smiles as they drive by or want to try them out themselves. We’re thinking of starting our own gang of go-karters. This could really bring our neighborhood together. We’d start having block parties and hanging out at the stop-sign. We could even have a bake sale!

We could change the world, my friends!

Or we could just enjoy zipping around, with the wind in our hair, on our new, super-cool go-karts.

The Challenge is On...

2008-05-30T08:42:00.000-04:00

So far, so good, my fellow earth-lovers. I have mowed the lawn twice now with my push-reel mower and it actually wasn’t so bad. The grass looks good. It’s definitely still green and it’s shorter. I’m thrilled. The downside is that dandelions resist the blade with a ferocity that fits their feline name (at least the second part of it). They refuse to go down. I think I’m just going to have to use child labor to take those not so dandy weeds out. Edges are also proving to be a challenge, but I’m learning to just forget about them. So what if there’s longer grass here and there? Who’s going to notice it? On the plus side, this challenge is turning into a life lesson for me where my perfectionistic side is learning to lighten up. That which does not kill me, I remind myself, will only make me stronger.

I am getting very strong.

I also have an upcoming event… On Monday, June 2nd, at 4:00 I will be at the Barrington Public Library (that’s in NH, not RI) for a meet the authors gathering. I’ll be reading an excerpt from my book, along with two other young adult authors (who will be doing the same). I do hope that some young adults show up for us to meet and greet and not just the cleaning crew. Of course, if no one comes, I can always just blame it on the other two authors. You can’t do that when you’re going it alone. I hope they don’t read this blog.

Meanwhile, editing The Return to Anaedor is going slow. The weather is just too nice and there’s all that mowing to do. I’ll try to do better in the next couple weeks, but that sun is so alluring. I can’t help but heed its call. On the plus side, I’ve come up with several more book ideas. One can’t help but fantasize and imagine in this glorious weather!

Enjoy your Spring!

Prince Caspian Rocks!

2008-05-27T08:42:00.001-04:00

Brace yourself because there’s going to be a lot of exclamation points in this blog…

This weekend, my family and I finally made it to see Prince Caspian (my husband keeps calling it Prince Cassidy) and I loved it! Everything from the scenery - amazing (I want to move there) to the battle scenes, was wonderful. One of my favorite parts - and I always like these scenes - was watching Prince Caspian flee on horseback. There’s just something about watching a lone rider racing on a horse across the open plains, or through the woods, or wherever it may be (though I don’t actually like horse racing, go figure). I also liked watching the fauns jumping around and one scene where a centaur reared. Very cool. One of the repetitive images that I enjoyed was whenever they showed the four siblings lined up in a row. I don’t know why I liked that, but I did.

Prior to heading off to the movie, I read some reviews on the movie. My reasoning for reading reviews is always this: I don’t want to heap unrealistic expectations on the movie because that always ruins it for me. As the reviews were quite good, however, I felt free to maintain my medium to high expectations. Well, my expectations were met and then some. If you are looking to spend time in a mythical, fantastical world, this movie will do it for you. To be fair, there are some glitches - line delivery was off at times and some scenes were a little slow, but I was willing to brush all that aside like an inconsequential mosquito. When the movie was over, I wanted to watch it again. There just wasn’t enough time to drink it all in!

It’s been a long time since I’ve read the Narnia series. A couple years ago I read the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to my son. Then I started the Horse and His Boy, skipped that and went on to Prince Caspian (I must have been channeling the old order - see below*). The beginning was a little slow for my son and for me, personally, so we set it aside. I’m glad that I did so that I could just enjoy the movie without comparison. I’m also afraid that if I reread the story, I will lose the magic of that time when I read it as a child with a worldview innocent and untainted by life. I’ve done that with books I loved as a kid - read them as an adult - and found myself vastly disappointed. It’s just not the same. So I’ve learned not to read them again. I’ll just have to read new books, or write my own!

Anyway, I give this movie an A. I’m sure there are people out there who didn’t like this and didn’t like that (there always are), but I was totally sucked into the world the director and actors created. I also thought the violence wasn’t all that bad. It wasn’t graphic, there wasn’t any blood that I remember, the worst that I can think of involved a head, but that wasn’t much, either, surprisingly. This is a children’s movie, after all. I’m glad that the powers that be are dedicated to making the effort to tone things down without losing the power of the story.

In summary, loved the movie, am working on getting my husband to stop calling it Prince ‘Cassidy’ (he misses Shaun), and I really want to see the movie again. Maybe I’ll see you there!

The Push-Reel Mower Challenge

2008-05-23T08:43:00.001-04:00

Helping save the planet is one of the ways I try to contribute to the betterment of our world (by night I fight crime). I’m certainly not perfect about becoming more environmentally conscientious, but I’m working at getting better at it, step by step, day by day. Most of you reading this can understand that such a monumental task isn’t always easy as it can involve extra time, energy and effort, all of which many of us sorely lack. The nice thing is that the more you do these activities, the easier they become. The easier they become, the more things you can add to your list. Before you know it, you will be one eco-fabulous person.

And that, my friends, brings me to my challenge…

I call this the Push-Reel Mower Challenge because it’s going to involve you making an extra effort. For me, I’m literally going to use a push-reel mower…all summer. We have a fairly large yard and it takes me about 45 minutes to mow with a regular mower (also a push mower, but a gas one). My lawn may not look as good or as tidy, but I’ll be saving money, gas, the environment, and getting a good work-out all at the same time.

So what could you do for your summer, earth-saving challenge (cause you know you want to do it)? Well, you could hoist up a clothesline and hang your clothes to dry. You could start a compost heap. You could try to avoid driving your car at least two days a week, more if you’re a stay-at-home or work-at-home (these terms are not mutually exclusive, but you know what I mean) dad or mom like myself. You could join/organize a car pool. You could make or buy cloth bags and use those for your groceries instead of those deadly, fish killing plastic ones. Try tracking down and unplugging any electrical items you do not use on a regular basis (sticking to your own house - your neighbor’s doesn’t count) . Maybe you could even build a windmill.

Any other ideas? Pass them along and I’ll include them in future blogs. If you have any stories to tell about your challenge and want to share, send those along, too!

These are all things that take extra effort, but if you tell yourself it’s only for the summer, it might not be so bad. Who knows, you might actually grow to like it! Just remember, take baby steps. Choose one earth-saving task and give it your all. The earth, and future generations, will thank you for it!

Let the challenge begin!

Where I Got My Love For Fantasy

2008-05-20T08:52:00.001-04:00

My mom has the best imagination! She’s always making unique things for my kids, or coming up with fun games for them to play. I love that she has passed along this part of herself by instilling in her kids (all five of us) and in her grandkids a love of the mysterious, the magical, and the mischievousness of life.

Here’s her latest achievement…

The boys are really into pirates right now, especially my oldest. He has read Treasure Island, along with many other pirate books, and watched all the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Inspired by these imaginary worlds, he makes weapons and various pirate necessities out of cardboard…a flintlock pistol, a cutlass, a spy glass, a compass that opens and closes, sheaths to hold his weapons and whatever else he can think of. He’s so into it that he recently ended up with three nasty blisters from cutting the cardboard (it’s really thick cardboard and the scissors are dull, from cutting cardboard) and plans to continue tonight despite the blisters.

Anyway, my mom drew up a pirate map of our yard and woods, putting in various landmarks to show the way. She then took an old purse and filled it with real coins, gold-painted nuggets and various ‘jewels’ that you can buy at your local craft store (but which are very pretty and sparkly). I, of course, was in on the scheme. This morning I hid the purse where X marked the spot, then pretended that I ‘found’ the map, which she had roughed up to look real. I made sure to announce my discovery right before lunch so while they ate, they had plenty of time to contemplate about how the treasure map had gotten there, where the treasure might be, and most importantly, time to grow more and more excited at the prospect of finding it. After some questioning (and some time to concoct a better story), I told them that I had found the map on top of a bush so the person had probably accidentally dropped it as they hurried to get away. Maybe, I ad-libbed, the pirates, or whoever it was, had just dropped off the treasure and would be returning for it - at any time. We had to move quickly, I added, and we’d better be armed.

My 8-year-old pirate wannabe was all over that.

The map was fairly simple to follow and they soon figured out the vicinity of where the treasure might be. My 3-year-old was actually the one to find it, though, because he was the only one listening to my ‘hints’ about where it could be, according to the map. My older two kept going the wrong way. I wouldn’t have minded them searching the area for however long it took, except that the mosquitoes were out in droves and we were getting eaten alive (there’s that dratted reality again). Once we found the treasure, in a hole between the twin trees and covered with leaves, we hurried back to the house with our booty. It was definitely a treasure to behold. There were three pirate pistols, eye patches, knives and hooks…not to mention a lot of loot. The kids spent the rest of the afternoon playing pirate, though we had to work hard to convince my youngest that he could just leave the treasure chest sitting in the house while he went out to play. He was feeling a little possessive of it (he’s even sleeping with it tonight).

Thanks to my great mom, my husband and I had fun being kids again and my kids had fun just being kids. My 8-year-old was a little skeptical at times (what a coincidence that there’s three of everything, he noted, though my husband said there were probably three pirates) and asked some questions that told me he’d figured out it was probably grandma who’d done this. Still, he backed off pretty quickly on the questions each time he came close to the truth. He really wanted to believe in the magic of a treasure left behind by pirates, even in the face of evidence to the contrary (unless his sweet granny really is one - that’s always a possibility).

Every day I’m learning just how important it is to encourage our children to believe in the wonders of life. With all the bad news from the war and school shootings and terrorism and gang violence, our society has lost its innocence. The younger you lose that spirit of wonderment, the harder it is to ever get it back. My hope for my children is that they will always see the beauty and wonder in life, even when they have to be responsible, boring adults.

As long as they keep Grandma’s imaginative spirit in their hearts, I know they will.

Newsflash: Publishing a Book Isn't Easy

2008-05-16T13:08:00.002-04:00

I have good news! I have just signed a contract with a new publishing company, Variance, that will be getting my book out into bookstores. Say hurray! A part of me is excited about this big step up and another part of me is worried - of course. There’s always a catch, you see. I am going to be getting what’s called a limited release. You know those movies that are only shown in certain theaters - the ones that nobody ever hears much about? Well, that’s my situation. Here’s another worrisome part: My book really has to sell well so that I can get it into an even wider venue…possibly even go hard cover (as opposed to under cover), which would be totally fragadelic. Otherwise, who knows what will happen? There’s a good possibility that I will be dropped like a used kleenex and then burned at the stake, with marshmallows thrown in for free.

Being somewhat of a pessimist, I’m not real hopeful about my odds.

During my Mother’s Day Weekend off, I spent some time wandering around a bookstore and it hit me how many books are out there begging for someone to give them a good home. How is my one little book going to get noticed? As it is, I’m doing everything I can, short of pole dancing, to get attention for it. I might even resort to having my book do the pole dancing itself. Hmmm… That just might work.

I’m really trying to stay positive about this whole publishing business, but there are times when I feel like Charlie Brown and the world is Lucy. I get my hopes up and Bam! I end up flat on my back, staring up at the sky, wondering, what the heck just happened to me? Have you ever had days like that? Yeah, me too. Too many.

This should be a momentous occasion, yet I worry. I should be happy that this is happening, yet I fret. What’s my problem, Dr. Freud? Well, I know what my problem is. I didn’t take all those Psychology classes for nothing. I am simply preparing myself for the worst so that if (when) it does happen, it won’t hit me so hard. My worst moments come from events that I didn’t see coming. It’s also kind of a hoodoo voodoo method of avoiding disaster. If I think about it, it won’t happen. I do this all the time. Unfortunately, I can’t always think of all the bad things that could happen. I could get hit by a flying chicken while walking down the street. It could happen, but am I really going to be prepared for it? Well, I am now, but before this blog, totally not.

On the other hand, I’m an optimist of the worst kind. Like Charlie Brown, I keep trying to kick that football. Unlike poor old Chuck, I sometimes actually connect. Why do I keep trying? Stupidity? Insanity? Nope. It’s a little something called intermittent reinforcement (more psychology). People are more likely to keep trying if they are reinforced intermittently (you get good stuff like chocolate chips in response to your attempts, but only once in a while and at random times). If you are not reinforced, you will stop. If you are reinforced every time, after only a couple failures, you will stop. Since I have not stopped, those good, kind words of yours must be keeping me going. So keep them coming, but only at intermittent and random times, like today.

Sorry this has been kind of a downer blog - I’m usually so upbeat! Ha, ha. But I figure it won’t hurt newbies to be prepared to face the inevitable downside to being in this business. Writing a book is wonderful, publishing it feels great. Selling it…not so fun. Of course, if you’re like me, you won’t believe bad stuff will happen to you, until is does, that is. I thought I’d write a book and the world would just come knocking at my door. Sadly, the world isn’t knocking. More like tapping once in a while, and usually when I’m in the bathroom.

Anyhoo, I’m giving up that fantasy and returning to the life I’ve always led, which involves experiencing lots of miserable failures for a long time, and then, eventually achieving success. Though I think the only reason I finally succeed is that I’m too stupid to give up. I’m hoping that happens this time, too. It could. I’m not asking for much. I don’t crave great success, just enough so that I can share my writing with people who like it. That’s all I’m asking for.

That, and to make enough moola to buy a castle.

Mother's Weekend

2008-05-12T17:12:00.000-04:00

This year, I celebrated Mother’s Day in style…I took the whole weekend off. I’ve been feeling burnt out lately and I had to just get away or risk a complete mental and emotional breakdown. As a mom and a writer, I juggle a lot of things. Most of the time, I can handle it. But I think that never getting a vacation from my job as a mom was starting to wear on me a bit. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a stay-at-home mom. But if I have to hear my kids say, "What is this stuff?" while looking at whatever’s on their dinner plate or "Kiki kicked me in the…" or "oops, I accidentally wrote all over the walls," one more time, I’m going to go mad. I don’t want to go more mad, I’m mad enough as it is.

So I took the whole weekend off.

I’m fortunate to have a spouse who is very supportive of me. He not only was wiling to give me the time off, he was happy to have a chance to spend that time with his kids. It’s sad that I have to look at this as being lucky, rather than accepting this as a given, but I know a lot of dads who have no time for their kids and think their spouse’s only dream in life is to cater to the family’s every wishes. That is not me.

Because it’s still officially my day off, I’ll only say this one thing about my lovely weekend…On my first day off, I drove to the ocean and watched the waves. It was lovely. I didn’t have to worry that someone was going to fall on the rocks or into the water and drown or deal with someone asking for food because they’re hungry. I just sat there, watching. Anyway, you know how you can’t help but think that some things are immutable? Well, while I was sitting on those giant boulders, I thought them unbreakable. They seemed so solid beneath me. Then a giant wave smashed against them and I realized that nothing could withstand that kind of beating forever. Even the seemingly most unchangeable thing I can think of will eventually be broken. Still, those rocks will take the beating for as long as they can. They will endure until they can endure no more.

And that’s like life. It wears you down, and eventually will grind you to dust (nice imagery, I know, but true). Until then, you stand tall and you survive. There simply are times in life when you just have to endure as best you can. And oftentimes, that’s being a mom trying to raise her kids to not only survive to adulthood, but be good, capable people, as well.

On those bad days I’ll just have to remind myself that I am like the rock, and I shall endure. And so shall you.

Happy Mother’s Day, Moms!

A Room With a Different View

2008-05-09T08:44:00.001-04:00

I first watched A Room With a View when I was nineteen years old. I was young, full of energy and hope about life, and I loved romance, or at the least the idea of it, not having had much experience with it myself. When I went to see A Room With a View in college I was expecting to ‘view’ Rear Window (I’m glad I’m not the only one who has made this mistake, or I might feel a little stupid). What I got instead was a wonderful introduction to period piece movies and a lifelong love of E.M. Forster.

So when I heard about the remake to be shown on PBS, I was skeptical. Could they really improve upon Merchant and Ivory’s 1985 movie?

In a word, no.

In fact, I felt like they messed up the one story that E.M. Forster wrote that was lighthearted and had a truly happy ending (Maurice had a somewhat happy ending because E.M. thought it was socially important to have it so, but the rest of his stories were rather bleak and unsettling). I’m not sure what the writer, Andrew Davies, was thinking (big spoiler alert), but at the end of the movie he decided to kill the hero, George. What the heck? I mean, from the flashbacks you get a sense that something is coming, but I didn’t envision him dying in a war. That was a major downer in what’s supposed to be a feel-good romance. Showing a scene of him sprawled on the battlefield, eyes wide open in agonized death, was not cool. Mr. Forster worked very hard to make this story work out well in the end. We should acknowledge and respect that, not completely ignore his struggle.

As when I watched the remake of Sense and Sensibility (see Jane Austen blog), I kept expecting certain things to happen, and they didn’t. Or I’d want a line to be delivered a certain way, and it wasn’t. I hate that. For example, when Miss Bartlett asks - after the wonderful scene when George kisses Lucy (the very best scene in Merchant & Ivory’s take) - "…if I had not arrived, what would have happened?" and Lucy says, "I can’t think." The way Helena Bonham Carter delivered the line gave it a life of its own that implied, "I can think, and oh, boy! But I’m certainly not going to tell you what my mind has conjured up!" The 2007 version’s Lucy just said the line, with no hint at anything yummy, no yearning to discover more. Just plain old, "I can’t think!" leave me alone! as though she really couldn’t imagine what might have happened. That just isn’t right. A big part of romance is savoring the pleasures of love, reliving the touch, the kiss, the look. If you don’t have that, you are left with nothing.

I believe that Mr. Davies was trying (as with the S & S, 2007 remake) to make this version more realistic. Once again, I have to voice my displeasure at this. Reality is for the news. Or for stories that are meant to be exposes on the horrors of life. While this story was somewhat of an expose on life, on social snobbery and growing up in an age where rules dictated how one should feel and when, it was a light one that was meant to fill you with hope. So why make it more realistic?

Anyway, I did go into the 2007 version trying to keep an open mind. After seeing the previews, however, I was already nervous. It looked darker; I wasn’t as thrilled with the heroine. Then, watching the movie, my worries were confirmed. This was not the same story I have come to know and love, both through the movie and from reading the book. I didn’t like George’s character in this version, either. In my opinion, he was a bit creepy. Nothing personal to the actor, it was just how they had him play George. On the one side he seemed a rather dull fellow, on the other, he was a bit stalker-like. They even put in a scene where he declares that he will follow her wherever she goes even though she has made it clear she doesn’t want that. Now that could be seen as romantic, but not the way this was played out.

Strangely, I felt that the movie was well-acted and directed. I think the problem was the way the writer chose to interpret the book. I didn’t like the darker viewpoint, the flashbacks, or the realism. Unfortunately for Mr. Davies, he had a lot to compete against. I think that once you have seen the original, there is no fair comparison. On its own, it could be a decent movie, but still, it would never have become one of my favorite movies.

So, if you don’t mind, I’d like a room with a different view, please.

Ch, ch, ch, changes...

2008-05-04T20:44:00.000-04:00

I just finished watching PBS’s Jane Austen extravaganza a couple weeks ago and felt moved to comment on it. Yes, even after all this time - although that might be because I don’t know what else to write about today. It’s dreary here in New England and I’ve been killing myself doing spring cleaning. But you don’t want to hear about that, do you?

Unless it involves attempting to remove the monkeys under my son’s bed, probably not.

Four of the movies were remakes…Sense and Sensibility, Mansfield Park, Northanger Abbey, and Persuasion. Emma and Pride and Prejudice were produced several years ago and they (or someone) decided against remaking these movies. A wise decision, I think, because really, how are you going to compete with the 1995 version starring Colin Firth as Darcy? I’d seen this version years ago and found the second time around to be even better. I’ve also watched the latest version with Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet, which was fine. But I didn’t like how they reduced Darcy to a minimal role in this take. His development is just as important as Elizabeth’s, and besides who wants to miss out on all those smoldering looks! Jennifer Ehle (1995) is also hard to beat as Lizzie Bennet. She is so spunky and her eyes are full of mischievous sparks. She’s my favorite E.B. to date. I would definitely recommend this movie.

As for Emma, I have always enjoyed this movie for what it is - a lighthearted romantic comedy. I liked both Kate Beckinsale and Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma, for different reasons. I thought Kate was more endearing, but I liked Gwyneth, too. She’s quite good at being snobbish (like when she played Estella in Great Expectations). I think Jeremy Northam made a better Mr. Knightley, at least in a romantic hero sort of way, though he may not have captured Mr. Knightley as well as Mark Strong did.

I did like the newer version of Northanger Abbey. A TV version was done in 1986 and I thought they made the heroine, young Catherine, too stupid. I like a bit of something going on in the attic, and this latest version provided a heroine (Felicity Jones) with a little more oomph and intelligence. I also liked JJ Feild as Henry Tilney. He’s an up and coming actor who does well in period pieces (he’s been in The Ruby in the Smoke and The Secret Life of Mrs. Beeton). By far, I prefer the 2007 version of N.A., especially when Henry Tilney reaches out to wipe a bit of mud from Catherine’s cheek. The yearning in that gesture gave me chills.

I think remaking Sense and Sensibility was a mistake (the third one, not the second one - there was one done in 1981 that I haven’t seen). I loved Emma Thompson’s version and have watched and rewatched it many times. I like that she emphasized Jane Austen’s clever wit, yet maintained all the drama of the story. I think the current director was attempting to make a more realistic version of the story. I’ve never been one for realism (as you know if you read my blogs) - I get plenty of it in reality. I think that if I were to watch the 2008 remake without having seen Emma’s take, I might have liked it better. The problem was that I kept comparing the two, expecting certain things to happen or lines to be delivered in a certain way. I plain old liked the actors, characters, scenes, and delivery better in S & S, 1995. Why try to improve upon perfection?

As for Persuasion, I didn’t like how the 2007 version had her looking at the camera so many times! I got to the point where I could predict when she was going to do it. Personally, I didn’t see her as the heroine type. She’s a good actress, and maybe it was the hairdo, but I didn’t see her with Rupert Penry-Jones, who played Mr. Wentworth, her love interest. I know that those dreadful ringlets were the style back then, but couldn’t they have played with it a little? I also didn’t think the ending was dramatic enough. Everything seemed to be resolved in one fell swoop, or at least felt like that. Despite all these problems, I did like the movie well enough to watch it again.

Mansfield Park. Hmmm… Well, I liked the 1999 version well enough, but the 2007 remake was not a favorite. I thought it was rather dull and I didn’t like Billie Piper as the heroine. I do not think of her as a Fanny Price, you see. Worse, I’m not sure I even like Fanny Price all that much. She’s a bit of a prude. Doing a little research, I discovered I’m not alone in this opinion. I think we all want a heroine who has a bit of spunk, or is at least willing to break the rules a bit. No one likes to be reminded that they are less than perfect in their moral conduct. I don’t think I could live up to Fanny Price’s strict moral code, which of course, makes me dislike her a bit.

In sum, I think they would have been better off leaving Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park alone. Northanger Abbey was an improvement and Persuasion was all right. I don’t know about you, but I think that if you’re going to make a change, it should be for the better. One of out four just isn’t doing it for me.

What I’d really like to see is the BBC take on some new period piece stories. Take some of the gothics from the 1960s and 1970s and make them into a movie. Granted, like the chick lit of today, there was an influx of bad books, but I know there are enough good ones out there to make a hit.

Don’t you agree?

My Paltry Contribution to National Poetry Month

2008-04-29T15:24:00.001-04:00

I’ve been sick, the family has been sick, plus a million other things have been going on. So, what’s a writer to do? Write a poem! Okay, I really just dredged up a poem I wrote a long time ago and edited it. It’s perfectly dreary, fitting my current mood (well, maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but let’s just go with it).

So, without further ado, here’s my paltry contribution to National Poetry Month (which is always in April, BTW)…

Still I Cry

It’s raining now…
The drops are falling
hard and fast.
I slip out into the storm
to escape.

I feel its coolness
on my burning skin
and embrace it
with everything I have.

Better out here
than in there
with the others.

Still it rains…
and still I cry.

The sky’s cold tears
mix with my hot ones
and I am defeated.

I turn and walk away
through the clouds
into a world
where I can watch
-just out of reach-
the graceful silhouettes,
and nothing more.

Life seems but a hazy shadow.
Someday I’ll be blown away
like leaves in the wind
on a cold, hollow day.

Still it rains…
and still I cry.

Dreams dance in my mind
like the elusive fey
And I wonder
how to catch them,
become a part of them.

Like an aged woman
I soon realize
the images are slippery
like good memories.
They are not for me.

It does not matter
to them
what I feel
So I wonder,
do I matter?

Still it rains…
and still I cry.

I wish someone
would take my hand
and comfort me
as I stand in the pouring rain
looking in.

Sometimes
I am so weak.
I mourn my life
even as I live it.

I just want to fit in.
But I can’t quite
find the key.

Silently
I turn to go,
giving up.
Why try?
Nothing ever changes.

Still it rains…
and still I cry.

—–

That is the original ending. Here’s what I add today, after a little living has infused me with a little wisdom…

Years of solitude
have taught me
something I wish
I’d known back then…

It was I
who created the rain…
It was I
who chose to cry.

Prince Caspian Is Coming!

2008-04-22T11:59:00.000-04:00

So who’s getting excited about the next Chronicles of Narnia movie coming out? Me! And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be excited, too. Spring has sprung in New England and everything is looking fresh and wonderful. I am full of hope and ready for all the great things coming my way. What better way to greet spring than with an epic adventure that was filmed in Ireland, one of my favorite ‘I can’t wait to visit’ countries, among other exotic locations?

Ah, yes… Prince Caspian is coming!

On May 16th, 2008, the movie opens. I’m pretty sure I won’t be seeing it that very day, though. I am going to delay gratification and wait for a day when the family and I don’t have to fight off other people with only our hands and a banana just to get a ticket, though the kids would probably be up for it. This movie is supposed to be more adventurous than the first and made on a grander scale.

Once I see it, I shall write a thoughtful, riveting review. I like giving my opinion and I’m sure you’ll be waiting breathlessly to hear it. And since it’s been many, many moons since I read the book, I shouldn’t have the problem of comparing the movie to the book like I did with the Spiderwick Chronicles.

So it’s all good.

At any rate, I hope the movie is great so that my childhood memories of Narnia remain untainted. Luckily I’m good at blocking things out, so if it isn’t, I shall pretend it never happened.

I Feel Like Royalty

2008-04-17T08:36:00.000-04:00

On Tuesday, I got my first royalty check! I couldn't believe it. Here was real money I had earned from something I'd created with my own little hands and half-functioning brain. I felt great, I felt like dancing, I felt like royalty. I'm considering having a parade. I sold many more books than I was expecting - so thank you, people out there who bought my book. The money wasn't great - I earned like a $1.64 off each book. But everyone always says don't expect to get rich being an author (unless you're a bestseller). And since I never expected big money, I was quite pleased with what I had made.

Still I had to tell my husband who was already running for the phone, "Don't quit your job just yet!"

Anyway, having an inquiring mind (and work to put off) I started thinking about why they call the checks an author receives royalty checks. I'm not royalty (though many times I pretend to be), so that can't be the reason. It's not like being an author is all that special (although others may beg to differ). So why the royal treatment?

Thoroughly stumped, I ended up looking it up in the dictionary, which also serves as my second home. This is what I found out: A royalty is the money you pay to the author for each book that is sold (which we already know). It came from the idea of a "royal right" or payment, which was given by a sovereign to the person who owned the land where minerals were being mined. It eventually evolved into including published materials and patents. The origin of the word is late Middle English, from the Old French version, roial.

Fascinating, huh? Bet you didn't think you'd learn something as amazing as that today.

Well, I'm off to enjoy the beautiful spring day. This winter has been a royal pain in the...behind.

Thank you for your kingly and queenly support.

Regally yours,

Queen Kristina (there really is one, you know - she lived in Sweden from 1626-1689, but I'm not her and I'm not Swedish. I am, however, Norwegian, which I think is close enough).

Just A Bit Of Chatter

2008-04-14T10:35:00.000-04:00

It’s the middle of April and we are 4 inches shy of the record for most snowfall in a season in NH since data collection began (can that sentence get any longer?). So this weekend I did the only thing that I could think of…I put the sno-blower away. Since snow in April is not unheard of, I believe that this move would be called ‘taunting’ Mother Nature. My fellow New Hampshirites might want to kill me - or at the very least, maim me - for tempting fate, but I am beyond caring.

I want that record.

In reality, I don’t really think it’s going to happen. In fact, a big part of me doesn’t want it to. Actually, I’m very confused about the whole thing. It’s been a long week where things keep going wrong or coming up or bad news hits. Maybe I just want one thing to go right. Even if it does come in the form of a freak snowstorm.

On a happier note, our tractor, Bobo, which has been hibernating all winter, actually started. Not that it does us any good - we have yet to find our farm to use it on (we probably own the most expensive and large lawn ornament out there). It’s been a long search to find our dream house. In our desperation, we even looked at a house where a murder took place not all that long ago. Fortunately, I didn’t feel good about the house. Even if I had liked it, there is no way I could have lived there. If the murder had happened a 100 years ago - maybe. But not 3 years ago. That’s just icky, spooky and very disturbing. I didn’t even live there and I had bad feelings about the place for weeks afterward.

The funny thing is that I don’t mind the idea of ghosts or spirits, or whatever it is you want to call them. I even have my own story about possible contact with the other side. Several years ago, my husband and I were living in an apartment that was part of an old house. The best part, in my opinion, was the attic, which was the size of a barn loft. To get to it you had to climb up a dark flight of stairs, hidden behind a door in the kitchen. When my older sister came to visit from out of state, I gave her the grand tour, which included the attic, of course. While up there, I kept experiencing what felt like a drop of cold water hitting my elbow. At the time, I was busy chatting so I merely swiped at my elbow, without thinking much of it. Only afterward did I stop to wonder what could be causing that cold, wet sensation. It’s dry as a bone up there and I was wearing long sleeves. Had I just had an encounter? Maybe. My husband avoided the attic like the plague and liked to keep all the lights on in the apartment. He said he never felt right living there. He is particularly sensitive to the possibilities of other-worldly creatures. Maybe I am, too…

We are now starting to think we have a haunted piano. It’s a baby grand, circa the 1940s, and rescued from a house fire. When my husband is working downstairs, he keeps hearing strange noises coming from its direction. He has heard what sounded to him like a shoe dropping onto the floor, but finds nothing there. There have been other strange noises, as well, and growing more and more common. While working at the computer - with his back to the piano - he also gets this sensation that someone is watching him. Hmmm… We were hoping to fix it up and use it once we move, but maybe we shouldn’t wait. Maybe it’s getting restless.

Whatever it is.

On that note, I shall say good day, leaving you with just a bit of chatter to fill the empty void…

The Secret Life of Kristina Schram

2008-04-07T08:33:00.001-04:00

I just ordered The Secret Life of Walter Mitty by James Thurber, one of my favorite short stories. I’ve always wanted to have my own copy. After rereading it - I read it many moons ago for a high school English class - I found I wasn’t as swept away as I remembered being at sixteen (I find that happens a lot when rereading stories I loved as a kid/teenager). But that’s okay. I still like the story. It’s about a man, Walter Mitty, who is married to a domineering woman. To escape from her constant mothering (and that’s putting it politely), he resorts to living in a fantasy world where he is in charge, admired, and looked up to. At age sixteen, I could really relate to the whole idea of a fantasy world.

Like Mr. Mitty, it was the one place where I had any power.

When I was a teenager, I would fantasize about anything and everything. My daily life was either humdrum or full of anxiety so I came up with a way to escape - by entering another world of my own making. I invented mysterious men who would save me from my dull, hideous life by taking me to their castle and treating me as their queen. I dreamed about saving other people’s lives then slipping away, quietly and without reward, until later when someone would track me down and say, "There she is! That’s the girl that saved me!" I spent many hours imagining how I would have handled a situation better, or what I’d do next time to really tell someone off. I fabricated getting justice for all the wrongs done to me. I was the master of my universe. Modest and humble, but always powerful, witty and in charge.

At least in my mind.

I never actually said a lot of what I wanted to say to people who’d ‘done me wrong.’ I never had the self-esteem to stand up for myself. Or if I tried, everything that always sounded so good in my head either came out sounding melodramatic or didn’t come out at all, except in this jumbly mess of nonsensical grunts and screeches. In my younger days, I was very much like Walter Mitty, quiet and insecure. But I was special in my own mind, if not in anyone else’s, and that got me through a lot.

But I didn’t stop with fantasizing alone, and that’s where Walter Mitty and I differ. I actually believed my dreams could come true (well, maybe not the saving others from a burning building part or winning the lottery and giving my money to needy people scenario - after I bought my castle, of course). I worked to make them come true. What good is a dream if you don’t try to follow it? Yes, reality is messy and can really put a damper on what you want to do, but living in your mind all the time eventually grows old. I always believed that there had to be more, and there always was. It may not always have been what I wanted, but it was something more than shadows in my pocket.

I think there’s a Walter Mitty in many of us - that dreamer of big dreams. The trick is take some of that secret life and make it real. Even if it’s only one tiny thing.

Well, I’m off to save a life, give away scads of money, and start work on my castle. And if I see Walter Mitty, I’ll be sure to invite him along…if he’s not too busy in surgery or off fighting wars.

Free Day!

2008-04-04T09:32:00.000-04:00

My electricity went out this morning. At the time, I had yet to shower or brush my teeth (and I had raisin bran for breakfast, dangit - that taste does not go away on its own, let me tell you). All the clocks in the house were blinking at me, so I had no idea what time it was and the boys had to catch the bus soon. I had grocery shopping to do later that morning, plus I was combatting a nasty stomach virus.

This was going to be a grand day.

And then I started to think a little more about my situation. It dawned on me that this was like a Free Day! Back in my elementary school days, we used to have Free Day Fridays for gym. Every Friday, you got to pick whatever it was that you wanted to do. If I wanted to zip around on my four-wheeled scooter and run over my own fingers, I could. If I felt the urge to climb the rope, getting rope burns in the process, there was no one stopping me. Life was grand. Nothing was expected of me except to do whatever I wanted, bar walking out the front doors and heading for home. Those days were glorious. And now, here I was, faced with a potential Free Day Friday (except that this was a Wednesday)…

What was I going to do with myself?

When your electricity goes out, you can’t help but acknowledge how dependent you are on it. It’s a scary feeling. Electricity provides our heat, water, light, and so much more. Like most people in our modern world, it allows me to do my job. As a writer, I spend a lot of time on the computer. I blog, I write, I edit, I research. At first, the idea of being cut off from my work was a bit anxiety-provoking. What was I going to do, since cleaning was definitely out of the question. No water, remember? Heh, heh.

Well, I thought to myself, I guess I’ll just have to take the day off. As soon as this thought occurred to me, I started to get excited. A day off! I could actually do something leisurely, something non-work related. I could pick whatever I wanted to do. What a crazy concept!

And so, after pushing the older two out the door, probably quite a bit earlier than was necessary, I sat down and opened up a book. I started reading. It was lovely. Granted, I had my three-year-old sitting next to me the whole time, chatting about cereal and whatever else crossed his little mind. But still, it was 8:30 in the morning and I was sitting down reading. I was partaking in a genuine miracle!

After about ten glorious minutes of freedom, the electricity kicked back on. Putting down my book, I sighed and cursed the electric company’s swift response. Feeling quite morose, I went around and re-set all the clocks, started the dishwasher back up, then went upstairs to take my shower. As I quickly rinsed out the shampoo in my hair (you never know if/when the electricity is going to go back out again), I thought to myself, someday I’ll have my day off. Someday I’ll get a break from the hectic and constant rush of my everyday life. Someday…

Truth be told, we all need a Free Day Friday once in a while, even if it’s only an hour or two. Next time, though, I’m not waiting until the electricity goes out. I’m taking my vacation right…bzzztttt!

New Hampshire's Going For The Record!

2008-03-31T15:41:00.001-04:00

This winter season we got a lot of snow here in New Hampshire. In fact, we’ve had the most snow in a season since 1875. On March 28th, we got about eight more inches. Unfortunately, they measure snowfall in Concord and they only got about 2.8 inches. That just doesn’t seem right to me. We get dumped on and most of it doesn’t count. Anyway, right now the record is 122 inches, set in the winter of 1873-74. We are currently at 115.2 inches. That puts us into second place. You may not believe this - I don’t believe it myself - but I’m actually kinda wishing for more snow. I want to break that record. Why, you ask?

Because I want bragging rights.

Wouldn’t you? I can just picture myself, eighty years old and sitting by the fire, telling my grandchildren in a gravelly voice, "I remember the winter of ‘07/’08 when we broke the record for the most snow in a season. It was a nightmare, I’m telling you. Your grandad had a broken wrist, leaving me to sno-blow the driveway, which was a couple hundred yards long, shovel the steps, porch and deck, and try to rake the roof with an implement that was longer than a tree. Then, just when his wrist healed, he went and injured his thumb!" At this point, I’d give a good guffaw and slap my knee. Then I’d grow serious again. "That was the year of the bad back, little ones. Most of us New Hampshirites weren’t able to fully straighten up again until August." Big sigh here. "I remember one time we had to clean up from a snowstorm…in the pouring rain!" Of course, the grandkids would ask next, "But why didn’t you just let the rain melt the snow, Grandma?" And I’d smugly reply, "Because, smart aleks, the next day was going to be frigid cold, worse than being in Minnesota, if I remember correctly. That rain wouldn’t have been able to melt all the snow in time and we would have ended up with 8 inches of ice on the driveway. Our little ice rink wouldn’t have melted until July."

Just when the grandkids thought the story was over, there’d be more. I’d lean closer. "You whippersnappers don’t know what it was like. Just leaving the driveway was an adventure. All that built-up snow and ice had created a ramp at the end of the drive, plus the snow banks were so high, you couldn’t see down the road you were trying to turn onto. You just punched the gas and hoped for the best, sailing through the air, wrenching the steering wheel to make the turn, praying there weren’t any cars coming. We were Dukes of Hazarding it that winter."

I’d probably embellish the story a bit, too. It’s one of the privileges of getting old, and of having lived through harsh times. Perhaps I had double pneumonia that year and the kids had the plague, too. I had to sno-blow uphill, both ways. We lost electricity twenty times and our pipes froze. Our roof nearly caved in from all the snow. We could go sledding off the roof. We almost lost our youngest in a snow bank. Actually, we did lose several of our sleds after one particular snowstorm.

Ahhh…Good times.

So why do I want more snow? Like I said earlier, I want bragging rights. Plus, it gives me something to aim for. Everyone needs goals in life. I’m hoping you’ll root for us. Do whatever you need to do to send us snow. Prayers. Snow dances. Whatever it takes. It’s only seven inches. But if you could, could you just have it all sent to Concord? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, not in the least.

Bad Begets Bad

2008-03-26T08:43:00.002-04:00

I’ve often wondered who the faceless people are behind mean-spirited reviews. Take for instance the vote on Sarah Jessica Parker in Maxim magazine. What they did to Sarah and the rest of the women on the list was just plain cruel and completely unnecessary. Were they getting bored with their ‘perfect’ women? Why did they feel the need to share with the rest of the world their anger and spite for anybody or anything that didn’t meet their expectations?

I don’t get it.

Plain and simple, mean-spirited reviews are bad for everybody. When you’re mean, that negativity gets passed along, spreading just as quickly and destructively as the plague. This isn’t rocket science. Bad begets bad. I can understand why people do it, though. It’s easy to be mean. It’s easy to use cruel, snarky words to get your point across. Putting others down can make you feel clever and powerful. If you’ve been on the receiving end of cruelty, it’s tempting to do the same back. Eventually it doesn’t matter who you’re taunting. Everybody’s your target. But being a big meany doesn’t do anybody any good. It just makes people either very (and sometimes homicidally) angry or depressed and afraid. No wonder people don’t want to leave their houses. No wonder kids don’t want to go to school, or adults to work. Even worse, in this internet age of ours, people can be mean and attack you and still remain anonymous. How scary is that?

I can relate to what happened to Sarah. Not on the same level…I don’t have the whole world looking at me. But my experience was crushing all the same. I received my first bad review on Amazon recently. While reading it, I could feel my face flushing as adrenaline rushed through me. It was not a nice review, and I didn’t like reading it in the least. I can only imagine what she felt like hearing about Maxim’s vote.

My publisher warned me about getting my first bad review. To be honest, I didn’t think it would happen. Stupid, I know. And arrogant. It’s not that I think my book is so great, I just never thought it would inspire such ire. But it seems that I am not immune to getting slammed. Dang.

Of course I don’t agree with my negative reviewer’s words (though I completely agree with those who gave the glowing reviews). Still, a part of me started to doubt my work. Was it really that bad? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Are they all just being nice when they say they like my book? Is this like those people on American Idol who say their friends and family tell them they have a great voice, but who really don’t, the poor things? Am I that person?

What have I learned from this experience? Well, a few things. But one big one…when you produce something for the world, expect it, and yourself, to get spit on. Even the greats have gotten bad reviews, and lots of them. Somehow it makes it easier to swallow my own humiliation to know that people I hold in high regard had their battles with mean-spirited people, too. Misery loves company, I guess. Or maybe it’s just knowing that I’m not the only one.

Throughout the day, bad thoughts went through my mind aimed directly at the M.B. and his/her review. I was angry, but worse, I felt helpless. M.B. is in the driver’s seat and there’s nothing I can do, save write this blog, to make things better. I do think M.B. was being a little unfair and this felt more like a personal attack than an attack on my book (this person has written no other reviews, just one on my book). But then I read some reviews on a current and very well-known author that were just as mean and just as negative and just as personal.

So maybe it’s not me, it’s the reviewer! Ha!

I completely agree with freedom of speech…I think M.B. had every right to express his/her opinion about my book, even if it was a negative one. But to do so in such a vitriolic way, that’s what bothers me the most. And to do it while hiding behind a pseudonym seems rather cowardly and suspicious to me. If you want to give your opinion, if you want to stand up and be counted, then show your face, or at least give your name. If you have the right to express what you think, I have the right to know who you are. I’m putting myself out there, now it’s your turn!

At any rate, I just wanted to relate my experience so that other aspiring authors out there won’t feel so alone if (when) this happens to you. Maybe we should form a support group for Authors Suffering From Reviews. Solidarity is a good thing. Through this experience, I have gained a lot of good wisdom and support from my friends and family, and from some wonderful people who barely know me! It has also helped to write about my experience. At first I thought that maybe I shouldn’t. Why tell the world that someone didn’t like my book? I should just ignore the bad review (and I will with the rest of them - because there will be more, I’m sure), but I promised myself when I started writing this blog that I would deal with the good, the bad and the ugly of getting published. Well, this is the ugly. Anyway, maybe I can save others some grief. It’s something to hang onto, anyway.

After all this, I am reminded of Sarah in the Labyrinth who says to the Goblin King, Jareth, "You have no power over me." Perhaps, in the end, that’s what we all need to remember.

Don't Cry Wookie

2008-03-24T10:17:00.000-04:00

Have you ever cried wolf? My kids do it all the time. Several times my youngest has come running to me shouting, "M. needs you! Come quick! It’s an emergency!" When he first started doing this, I would leap after him only to find that my middle child simply needed help putting his catapult together, or some other equally non-emergency type of thing. Usually, he just wants an extra hand. It’s not like he’s lost a hand himself. He wants my attention, doesn’t want to make the effort to come get me himself, so he tells his little brother to tell mom that it’s an emergency. This is his variation on the crying wolf theme.

But this particular son doesn’t just cry wolf…he cries Wookie.

The other day my youngest child came running upstairs to tell me that his brother needed me…he was hurt. I was gathering up clothes to bring down to do the laundry and I said, "Just a minute." Sounds callous, but when you have kids, you quickly learn what is serious and what is not. I could hear some complaints coming from the victim but no major screeches signaling serious pain. Since my kids can make a paper cut sound like they’ve just been scalped, I figured he wasn’t too badly hurt this time. So, I wasn’t in a big hurry, but I also wasn’t going too slowly, either. Just in case…

Anyhoo, my youngest runs downstairs to his brother to deliver my message. I’m not far behind him, however, and I arrive in the kitchen to hear him say, "Mom says just a minute." In response, my five-year-old roars, "Not just a minute, NOOOOWWW!" sounding just like a Wookie in distress. That’s what he does when he’s hurt or mad. He howls, and he does it well.

It turns out that he had good reason to bellow. He’d gotten his foot stuck between the slats in his chair. He wasn’t hurt, but he was good and scared and panicking a bit because he couldn’t get his foot back out. Now if I was a really cruel parent, I would’ve fetched the video camera to record the whole event so I could send it in to AFHV to win me some money. Okay, maybe I tried, but the battery was too low (totally kidding here so don’t go calling children’s services on me). With a little bit of maneuvering on my part and lots of complaining about how it hurt on his part, we saved his foot…and the chair. No saws necessary.

And this is why I never get anything done…RRRRUUUUHHHHHWWWWW!

My Night Out With the Boys of the Lough

2008-03-20T15:28:00.001-04:00

My husband and I finally got a night out, away from the kids, away from the house, just him and me. It was great. But, of course, this being my life, issues arose before the big night even started. Issue number one: I had nothing to wear. I know, I know, women say that all the time when they have a closetful of clothes to wear, but this was no exaggeration. Everything I owned that was in the least bit dressy was either too big on me, or not made for wearing in March in New England. No way was I going to let myself be cold - I’m getting to the age where if you let the cold sink in too far, it won’t ever leave. If I had to choose, comfort would come first. The characters in Sex and the City (especially Carrie and Samantha) would be appalled, but there it is.

I’m not totally without fashion sense, however. I’d prefer to have both comfort and beauty. So I went shopping…

Of course, being a stay-at-home mom, I had to bring along my two youngest ones, one of whom wasn’t feeling well and just wanted to sleep. We ran some errands first and he dragged himself around the aisles, hanging onto the cart and looking droopy. He only perked up when we spent time picking out his birthday presents. Then we headed for the mall. Unfortunately, I had delayed my shopping trip until the last minute. Perhaps if I’d gone earlier, I might have found something that wasn’t a tiny summer dress or on the sales rack and didn’t fit me! But no. There wasn’t much of anything and what there was, was u-g-l-y. My sick child kept trying to fall asleep…on the floor, leaning against the wall, on the fitting room bench. Then my two precious little boogers started fighting over the room on the bench because my youngest wanted to bed down, too.

I gave up. We went to Mickey D’s for lunch. By that point, I needed junk food. Really needed it. As I ate, I kept telling myself that I had to have something at home that would fit. The next day I searched my closet and found a few things that might work. I washed them, hung them up to dry, but didn’t bother trying them on until a half hour before we were due to leave. With high hopes, I tried on the first outfit. Too big. So I tried on the second, still foolishly optimistic. Not bad, I thought, but where are my black heels? Nowhere to be seen. I then vaguely recalled giving them to Goodwill because I never wore them. Dang. I can’t wear a skirt with tennis shoes. Can I? No…it’s a bad look. Trust me. So I tried on a few more things. Nothing worked. I looked at the clock. Agh! Ten minutes before we had to leave! I finally had to resort to a pair of dress pants and some dress shoes that I had to polish because they were a bit scuffed and more than a little dusty. The show was at an Opera House - I just hoped I wouldn’t stand out too badly.

I didn’t.

After dining out at a lovely restaurant in an old inn, we headed over to the Opera House. By then, I was thankful for my pants and sensible shoes. The restaurant had been a bit cold and the walk was refreshing to say the least. When we arrived, I was more than a bit relieved to find that I was not the only one who wasn’t dressed to the nines. But then I was disappointed. What happened to dressing up for an occasion? Nobody seems to do that anymore. At least not around here. The height of fashion appeared to be a Red Sox baseball cap paired with a Red Sox jacket.

The Opera House had been built in 1908 and as we entered the theater I could hear the swishing of ball gowns as the women swept down the aisles to take their seats. I promised myself that when I had the chance, I would search out a lovely dress and shoes for ‘occasions’ such as these. They would be comfortable, too, because I want to enjoy the performance, not constantly worrying about a girdle digging into my stomach and too-tight shoes pinching my toes. Dressing up should be fun. Remember doing it as kids?

Okay, now on to the show. The Boys of the Lough, a band that plays traditional Irish music, was the feature presentation. They were a lot of fun - four of the members were Irish and one was English. If you weren’t nodding your head, tapping your foot, or slapping your thigh, you were probably dead. Even the ghosts were joining in. I could only see four of the five boys because someone’s head was in the way, but that was okay. Biologically they weren’t really boys at all, three of the five being on the other side of forty, to be sure. In spirit, though, they were as young as could be, telling jokes, laughing, and enjoying the music with smiles on their faces. I especially liked the banter. At one point, the Irish guys were making fun of the English so the Englishman quipped back, "Yeah, they won’t even let me sleep in the same bed as them." Even though you knew they had a schtick, they seemed to enjoy every joke as though it were the first time they’d heard it.

Despite my ‘issues’ with fashion, I had a good time. You can’t help but be inspired by Irish music. It was also nice to dine out without having to explain something again to the one child who wasn’t listening to the first explanation and wants to know what everyone’s talking about. We didn’t have to clean up spilled milk or listen to fart jokes. We almost didn’t know what to do with ourselves. When we got home, we straightened up the house. My mom will watch the kids, but cleaning isn’t included. I guess that’s what we get from a free babysitter. So we cleaned up the house and went to bed. It was a great night out and we didn’t even stay out that late.

We’re already planning the next…Maybe a cruise? I can’t wait to tell my mom.