I almost didn’t open my fortune cookie at the restaurant
tonight because I so badly wanted the fortune
to bode well for Tuesday. I mean, what if the tiny slip of
paper pointed to an angry old white man in my future?
But then I took a chance……..
Ahhh………….
Last night Zippy and I went to our poll watchers training so we’ll be ready to protect voting integrity on Tuesday.
This morning I lifted weights and then made some headway in my quest to find a new venue for next September’s RMC-SCBWI fall conference.
I just finished my 1000 words for the day.
And now I’m off to do data entry for Democrats Work.
I feel so energized and optimistic right now. Hope you’re all feeling the same!
Yesterday I posted an excerpt of a letter written to me by the narrator of my new project. I figured my writer friends would appreciate it. We like stuff like that.
Well, last night I made the mistake of letting Zippy read it. Zippy is not a writer, he’s an engineer. Zippy doesn’t read lots of fiction, much less ponder the fiction-writing process.
He turned from the computer screen and frowned. Then he said something like "How old is this kid and was this letter written in the future, like when he’s in his twenties?"
I swear, I wanted to strangle him. And I still wanted to choke him this morning.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I reminded myself Zippy only read a portion of the letter. He had no way of knowing the letter ended up being less about finding the character’s voice than some strong advice from that character on how to go about writing the book. Zippy didn’t know that although I was disappointed in not getting a "flash" of voice in that letter, I did map out my approach a bit more. And because of that, I consider the letter a success.
But Zippy’s reaction got me thinking. For those of you who read the excerpt, were you wondering if the letter was written by my character in his future twenties?
I’m working on a new project and am struggling to find the narrator’s voice. I decided to have him write a letter to me. Here’s an excerpt:
I can feel your thoughts pushing in on mine so I’m not really sure if I’m thinking stuff or if you’re exerting your authorial will upon me. I’d highly recommend you backing off with that authorial will. We aren’t going to have a good time doing this book together if you’re getting into my space. You have to respect me and I’ll try to do the same even though I’m a real character and you’re just the person telling my story. I think I should definitely be the one making decisions here. I’m me and you can only guess what that means OR you can shut up and let me tell the story. The thing is, Tracy, you’re letting me tell this story in first-person which means I’m telling the story. You’re just the person I chose to help get the words down so other people can share in the story. You’re nothing special here. I am. My story and I are the special ones. You’re the hired help. Sorry if this sounds blunt but it’s the truth, and the sooner you accept it the better off we’ll all be.
I guess I should be grateful he apologized.
The Institute for America’s Future placed its final election ad in the New York Times. I read the ad and decided to post it as a companion piece to today’s earlier photo. This ad explains why I’m a progressive and why I feel so strongly about Obama not listening to those who will call for him to lead from the center. There is work to be done. Our future depends on bold action.
We weren’t at the rally yesterday but this photo brought tears to my eyes. Colorado isn’t the most politically active state, and I’ve been at plenty of rallies at the capitol that were pretty damned small. This one was estimated by both campaign organizers and police as well over 100,000. Seeing all those people gathered together fills my heart with joy.
The most significant dreams came to me shortly after my friend Pete died. He was actually murdered. One night I entered into a dream and Pete was there. He said, "I want to take you to this place where I live." I thought, Well, that’s interesting. When we arrived, I saw it was a wonderful idyllic setting with a lot of creatures flying around: elephants, camels, people. I said, "I’d like to try flying myself." And he said, "Sure, but since you’re not dead, you have to go over to that booth there and rent some wings. They’re only a quarter." I said, "Great," and I went and rented the wings.
I took off, and I was flying around with all the other people, having a wonderful time. All of a sudden, I realized, "This is ridiculous. How can I fly with these twenty-five-cent wings?" Immediately I started to fall. I was terrified I was going to die. Then I thought, Wait a minute, I was just flying a minute ago, and I started flying again. I went back and forth with this — falling and flying, falling and flying — until it finally dawned on me what this was about. I said to myself: It is not these wings that enable you to fly, it’s your own confidence.
– – – Amy Tan in WRITERS DREAMING: Twenty-six Writers Talk About Their Dreams
and the Creative Process
I haven’t been good about updating my progress on my JoNoWriMo goals. For the record, I am writing.
However, not all writing has been fiction.
Last week I joined other volunteers at Democrats Work in sending out postcards to new voters, urging them to get out and vote. My hand cramped up and my shoulders got tight, and I quit at 33. Today, though, I wrote 55 postcards!
A couple weeks ago I felt guilty for not canvassing but now I’m happy I can be part of the effort without my blood pressure skyrocketing. Plus, the competitive me enjoys the fact I can get through a list of 30 names faster than the other volunteers.
It’s the little stuff that keeps me going.
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When I read this year’s topic my first thought was, of course, food and shelter. I’d planned to write about Grant Avenue Street Reach and the work we do feeding the homeless and working poor in Denver. But then I decided to address the larger issue.
The people of the United States are suffering a collective poverty of morality. And no, I’m not talking about nudity or profane language. I’m referring to our complacency in the face of illegal invasion and occupation , torture , illegal wiretapping , assault on the poor affected by Hurricane Katrina, assault on the environment , illegal signing statements , and soldiers’ mental health issues.
Why aren’t we out in the streets with burning torches and pitchforks? Where is our outrage? And I include myself in this question. Sure, I’ve written many letters to the editors, made numerous phone calls to my representatives, protested in the streets, signed petitions, knocked on doors, etc.
But. There are also days when I turn the page, shut off the television, click onto a different web site, all of the above in order to avoid the ugly truth that has become the United States. I feel beaten down by the Bush administration’s use of The Shock Doctrine. I feel powerless. Overwhelmed. And that’s just what they want. A traumatized citizenry that refuses to act even in the face of ongoing immorality.
I’m optimistic Obama is going to win the election. But I’m also worried people will think that’s enough to fix the mess Bush/Cheney/and Company created in the last eight years. It won’t be. We must hold the Obama administration accountable and demand the U.S. leaves Iraq. Demand the closure of Guantanamo Bay and an end to torture. Demand a return to the Constitution. Demand those among us with the least get the help they need. Demand bold action to protect this planet. Demand an end to an out-of-control Executive branch. Demand that those who serve this country are only asked to do so based on truth, and then given the help they need.
It’s way past time for us to disavow our national poverty of compassion and decency. We can do so much better.
![](http://blogactionday.org/img/1756d3af665d13b1dde789df137e22ca46eade7c.jpg" /></a>)
I just finished the first draft of my contemporary YA. It was ugly. Pointed the nose to the ground and crash-landed the project. The draft is 65k words which I mostly wrote in 1k-word installments. I wrote every single day except for when I put it on hold to do revisions on other projects. I’m proud to have finished a draft so quickly because even though it blithers and blathers, and does a fair amount of wandering, there are glimmers of a real story in there. I proved to myself I can be disciplined (formerly viewed as "rigid") and produce (hopefully) decent work.
Normally I’d print out a copy and stick it in a drawer for months before looking at it again. But having discovered I’m capable of sticking to a daily word count, I started wondering if I should also tweak my revision process and try something new there.
So. I’m going to read the draft and then immediately go through all my notes I took as I wrote the book so that I can create a new Official Notes List. This list will only contain the plot and character ideas that still make sense, whether they’re already in the story or just in my notes. I’m in the habit of jotting down notes as I write and sometimes those notes are viable by the end of the story but sometimes they don’t make a damned bit of sense. And sometimes there’s lots and lots of the nonsensical. By creating an Official Notes List right now, I hope to alleviate much confusion and staggering in the wilderness when I read this draft several months from now.
That’s my Big Plan for Success. Anyone else care to share?
(And if you haven’t yet read them yet you might be interested in stopping by jeannineatkins to read her last couple posts on her revision process. She gave me lots to think about).
AARGH! I read over this before hitting the Post button, and realized something: it doesn’t make any sense to write out a list without making changes in this draft because otherwise I’ll just be distracted all over again by the tangents and mis-characterizations. I won’t be buying myself much time. Does this mean I have to go in and do heavy-lifting (in terms of plot and characterization) before putting the ms in a drawer?
HELP! Tracy’s Big Plan for Success just sprang a leak.
My favorite economist, Paul Krugman, who writes about economic issues in a way I can understand, just won the Nobel Prize for Economics. This makes me quite happy. Early on, Paul Krugman spoke out against the atrocities of the Bush administration, and I remember crying tears of gratitude as I listened to him on the radio while he eloquently put into words much of what I felt but couldn’t verbalize.
He wrote a book called The Conscience of a Liberal which I highly recommend because of his ability to condense complex issues and history into an enlightening read. He explains how despite the demonization of the word "liberal," the majority of people in the US embrace liberal policy positions (such as universal health care).
I believe in a relatively equal society, supported by institutions that limit extremes of wealth and poverty. I believe in democracy, civil liberties, and the rule of law. That makes me a liberal, and I’m proud of it. – Paul Krugman from The Conscience of a Liberal.
If you’re interested, here’s Paul Krugman’s blog.
We’re a video-game free household and Wildebeest is always off at friends’ houses playing those games. Watching movies on enormous screens. And eating junk food.
This morning we went out and bought a ping-pong table. It’s set up in the basement where Wildebeest and three of his friends (plus Zebu) are now playing ping pong.
I just took a bunch of food downstairs.
I’m hoping they’ll be here a while.
John McCain: If your campaign does not stop equating Sen. Barack Obama with terrorism, questioning his patriotism and portraying Mr. Obama as "not one of us," I accuse you of deliberately feeding the most unhinged elements of our society the red meat of hate, and therefore of potentially instigating violence.
At a Sarah Palin rally, someone called out, "Kill him!" At one of your rallies, someone called out, "Terrorist!" Neither was answered or denounced by you or your running mate, as the crowd laughed and cheered. At your campaign event Wednesday in Bethlehem, Pa., the crowd was seething with hatred for the Democratic nominee – an attitude encouraged in speeches there by you, your running mate, your wife and the local Republican chairman.
Shame!
John McCain: In 2000, as a lifelong Republican, I worked to get you elected instead of George W. Bush. In return, you wrote an endorsement of one of my books about military service. You seemed to be a man who put principle ahead of mere political gain.
You have changed. You have a choice: Go down in history as a decent senator and an honorable military man with many successes, or go down in history as the latest abettor of right-wing extremist hate.
John McCain, you are no fool, and you understand the depths of hatred that surround the issue of race in this country. You also know that, post-9/11, to call someone a friend of a terrorist is a very serious matter. You also know we are a bitterly divided country on many other issues. You know that, sadly, in America, violence is always just a moment away. You know that there are plenty of crazy people out there.
Stop! Think! Your rallies are beginning to look, sound, feel and smell like lynch mobs.
John McCain, you’re walking a perilous line. If you do not stand up for all that is good in America and declare that Senator Obama is a patriot, fit for office, and denounce your hate-filled supporters when they scream out "Terrorist" or "Kill him," history will hold you responsible for all that follows.
John McCain and Sarah Palin, you are playing with fire, and you know it. You are unleashing the monster of American hatred and prejudice, to the peril of all of us. You are doing this in wartime. You are doing this as our economy collapses. You are doing this in a country with a history of assassinations.
Change the atmosphere of your campaign. Talk about the issues at hand. Make your case. But stop stirring up the lunatic fringe of haters, or risk suffering the judgment of history and the loathing of the American people – forever.
We will hold you responsible.
Frank Schaeffer is the author of "Crazy for God: How I Grew Up as One of the Elect, Helped Found the Religious Right, and Lived to Take All (or Almost All) of It Back." His e-mail is frankaschaeffer@
photo © Ryan Houston
I don’t know what’s going on here today but I’m flicker-rich right now.
They’re hopping on my roof, sitting on my deck and fence, eating at my feeder, poking
at the ground, flying to and fro, driving my cat, Lebowski, mad.
“As an autobiographer I don’t seem to have to dream. There’s a place I get to that’s a little like dreaming. Almost dreaming but I’m awake. It’s an enchantment.
You know, from the age of seven and a half to twelve and a half I was a mute. I believed at the time that I could make myself, my whole body, an ear. And I could absorb all sound. Those years I must have done something to my brain, or with it, so that the part of the brain which would have been occupied in the articulation of speech and the creation of sound, those electrical synapses, did something else with themselves. They just reinvented themselves so that I’m able to remember incredible amounts of data. I would say I get along reasonably well in about seven or eight languages. I have spoken as many as twelve. I have taught in three. I seem to have total recall or none at all. And so, when I need to get inside myself, I can do it without going to sleep.”
—Maya Angelou in WRITERS DREAMING: Twenty-six Writers Talk About Their Dreams
and the Creative Process
(Sometimes I pull a book off the shelf and see what jumps out at me. This is what I found today. Possibly the universe is suggesting I shut up and listen a bit more. Today’s goal: become an ear.)
Watched the “debate” with the family. Before it started I reserved “my friends” as my BINGO word. Zippy chose “earmark,” Zebu’s word was “maverick” and Wildebeest alternated words throughout the 90 minutes.
If it’d been a drinking game, I wouldn’t be typing this right now. I’d be passed out on my desk, drooling on the keyboard. I lost count at 17 “my friends.”
Zippy was ahead for a while with “earmark” but then fell behind and a few minutes into the program Zebu pointed out “Tom” would’ve been a good choice since McCain and Brokaw were chumming it up.
The menfolk in this household can try to spin the situation all they want, my friends, but I was clearly the official debate BINGO champ!
Here in Colorado today is the last day to register to vote. There are concerted efforts to scrub the rolls of eligible voters in key states around the country so I encourage all of you to verify your voter registration. Here’s a quick, easy link:
Please use it and pass the link along to family and friends!
During last night’s vice-presidential debate, Gov Palin gave a folksy (gag) shout-out to her brother who teaches at Gladys Wood Elementary.
Gladys Wood Elementary?
I just checked my file and yes, indeed, when living in Anchorage I subbed there. Not only that, the school’s principal called me at home and asked me not to come back the next day after the out-of-control kids complained to their parents about me saying I’d rather take my dog to an assembly than them.
Palin keeps reminding me of so many fond memories of Alaska: yearly oil bribe (Permanent Fund Dividend check), machine gunning wolves from airplanes, whack-job politicians, driving around in the icy dark trying to locate the school for that day’s sub assignment, “hunters” demanding they be allowed to shoot moose from the side of the highways, whack-job politicians, gun racks in every truck . . .
Tracy Abell 