Am posting this photo as a reminder to myself
to keep sending clarified thoughts into
the great blue beyond….
Author: Tracy Abell
Finally . . . Senator Al Franken!
Let’s hear it for Al getting out from under Norm Coleman’s thumb!!!
The Pitfalls of Randomness
When Zebu and I go to the library
he pulls books off the shelves.
At random.
He doesn’t really look at what he’s grabbed.
And he stops grabbing once he has a stack.
He recently read a book about a chess tournament
which he said was really boring.
Hard to believe, I know.
Last night he finished a book about a spelling bee.
He said it was totally stupid.
Again, what a shock.
I asked why he didn’t just check out a novel about knitting while he was at it.
Rather than throw a pillow at me
he said my idea would only work if it was a story about competitive knitting.
Involving a race to knit a pair of mittens, hat, and scarf.
So if any of my writer friends want to run with that plot idea, feel free.
Zebu would probably read it.
This is getting scary!
My schedule is off this week so instead of doing the push-ups first thing in the morning,
I have to wait until later.
Today later meant right before dinner.
When I suddenly realized I hadn’t done the damned things workout.
Oy.
I thought it was hard the other days when my arms shook and I fought mightily to get some space
between the floor and me.
Tonight I collapsed.
Three times on the last set.
My arms just gave out and I flopped onto my belly.
Without warning.
Three times.
But I did my required number of pushups
(not sharing because it’s kind of embarrassing).
Hope it still counts even though the set was done as a relay.
Oy.
Yes, Virginia, there is a sun
Despite the evidence out the window right now
and despite the past couple weeks,
Colorado does get sun.
I’d love some more sunshine.
My mental health would appreciate it, too.
We had some yesterday and we can have it again.
Come on, Sun,
do your thing!
Please.
Wildebeest and Winnie
Wildebeest is out on the couch right now.
Sewing a patch on his favorite jeans.
Focusing on tiny stitches.
And singing.
Winnie the Pooh.
Well, a combination of these words, anyway, with an emphasis on willy and silly:
Winnie-the-Pooh,
Winnie-the-Pooh,
Tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff.
He’s Winnie-the-Pooh.
Winnie-the-Pooh.
Willy, nilly, silly, old bear
Blame It On Cake
Elvis Costello might want to Blame It On Cain
but I know the real culprit is cake.
Specifically, Zebu-created chocolate cake.
Made in the evening.
Filled with sugar and caffeine,
ingredients not conducive to sleep.
Here it is in all it’s glory:
Don’t get too loud with your oohs and ahhs
because you might wake Zebu and Zippy.
And Lebowski and Coco and Zoey.
That’s right; it’s just me and the internets.
Blame it on cake.
Friday Five: Satisfaction Edition
1) My new whiteboard is working out very well, despite the injury it sustained on the way home from the store.
For those interested, here are great directions for making and installing a whiteboard.
2) With the help of the aforementioned whiteboard, I’m figuring out all sorts of stuff about my YA project
and am preparing to dive into the second draft. And it doesn’t feel as if this dive will be a belly flop, either.
3) My garden is lush and jungle-like because of all the rain.
4) Zebu and Wildebeest have transitioned nicely into summer vacation and, dare I say it?, are getting along.
5) Today is Zippy’s last day of cardio rehab following the stents he received, and I’m so impressed by his hard work
and dedication to good health.
Wishing all of you a most satisfactory weekend!
Discount This, Baby!
This evening my family and I went to Souper Salad.
Zippy told the young woman at the front counter
"Three over 12 and one at 12 years."
Apparently Zippy and I look WAY over 12.
She gave both of us the senior discount.
72 cents each.
This is his second senior discount.
My first.
He’s 48 and I’m 46.
I’m always reading letters to the editors bemoaning
high school graduates’ lack of math skills.
That probably explains what happened tonight.
Ginormous Whiteboard – Update
This isn’t the update I envisioned.
But in the spirit of full disclosure
here’s what happens when you
(and by that I mean Zippy and me)
try loading a 5 1/2 ft x 4 ft piece of tileboard
into the back of a Prius.
Fortunately, it’s an inexpensive material.
Ginormous Whiteboard Envy
I’m at just over 200 pages of this first draft.
Wrote 1000 words every day for 71 days.
And am just now thinking I know the story.
Don’t laugh.
But as I wrote notes the last couple days
trying to find my way out of the wilderness
I kept thinking
"I wish I had a huge whiteboard"
one large enough to pace in front of
and step back to look at
in order to see the big picture.
Guess what?
All sorts of kind people have posted
DIY directions for making your own ginormous whiteboard.
I hope to be back soon with photos and helpful links!
Dreary With a Dollop of Optimism
The sky is gray.
The temperature is below average.
The sun is nowhere to be seen.
But.
I’m feeling something today.
Something positive.
Hopeful.
It makes no sense.
And I’m almost afraid to admit all this.
But I’m going with the optimism.
EDITED TO ADD: The sun just came out. Hooray!
Friday Five: Furry Edition
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend with fewer scowls than smiles!
This Modern World
This pretty much sums it up . . .
from 5/19/09
Creativity Reminder
For any and all of my creative friends out there, some wise words from
Billie Joe Armstrong, Green Day songwriter, singer-guitarist……..
"If you’re at that place where you’re working hard
but don’t feel like you know what you’re doing anymore,
then you’re on to something."
but don’t feel like you know what you’re doing anymore,
then you’re on to something."
Sounds as if he knows a bit about the muddle in the middle.
Dodging the Truth
I needed to extricate Zebu from weekly lessons and
thought I was doing instructor and me a favor by dancing around the truth
and instead of saying he’s killed Zebu’s enthusiasm for drums,
saying we needed to take a break for summer because
of various basketball camps and a possible family vacation
which would make it impossible to keep Zebu’s lesson time,
a time slot we originally selected from a whopping two choices,
which clearly proved the man had a full schedule and wouldn’t miss us
and would understand our leaving the fold.
And make my excuse brief and painless.
Except for then he offered to be flexible and drive over to the studio
to suit our schedule since he lives nearby.
Okay, I’ve already learned that lesson about Truth = Best.
Even when that truth is painful.
So why’d I forget today?
Down Off the Ledge
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.
It means so much to me (and my mental health)
having this writing community.
Yesterday I shared my panic and angst
and kind writer friends took time to talk me down from the ledge.
Sharing wise truths along the way.
Reminders that I wasn’t delusional.
That I could continue my project in good faith.
I want you to know I just finished my 1000 words for the day
and it was a great session.
I wasn’t nervous or angsty or anything like that.
I was calm.
Deliberate.
Confident that the initial story spark and its ensuing emotions
were still there for me to mine.
Thank you, friends.
Have a wonderful laughter-filled weekend!
Plotting Pinball Head-itis
Maybe you’ve already seen this.
I just saw it on the blueboards.
It made me laugh and laugh
not because I’ve experienced this sort of “editorial direction”
but because it reminds me of being inside my head on this project.
What if, say, the main character dies at the end of chapter one.
I mean, not that but I mean something like that.
I mean, not like that but, yeah.
. . . . .
Yeah, so what if it’s not that but it’s JAWS?
THAT MITCHELL AND WEBB LOOK: OK . . .NOT THIS
Name My Angst
I’m in a bit of a panic.
I’m 200 pages into the first draft of a YA that came to be because of a name.
A name that presented itself to me when I was playing around with this Band Name Generator.
I immediately loved the name.
The name offered so many possibilities for a main character.
Without going into details, the name includes a noun that stands for a specific kind of crime.
My entire storyline (and I use that word loosely since I’m firmly entrenched in blither-blather territory at this point in the draft) comes from that noun.
And now I’m wondering (mostly because of that blither-blather angst I’m currently experiencing) if I’m nuts to let a name
dictate a story.
Have any of you ever written a book based on a name?
Did it all work out in the end?
I cannot believe I have 200 pages written but am suddenly insecure about the whole project.
Sandburg – Dylan Intersection
You might be happy to know I finally finished Carl Sandburg’s PRAIRIE-TOWN BOY.
So why am I still writing about Mr. Sandburg?
Because this morning I was reading the Rolling Stone interview with Bob Dylan.
Dylan recounts how in February 1964 he spontaneously drove with friends from New York
to Hendersonville, North Carolina, where he knocked on the door of his hero, Carl Sandburg.
From the interview (conducted by Douglas Brinkley):
Mrs. Sandburg greeted the stoned-out New Yorkers with Appalachian warmth. "I am a poet," is how
Dylan introduced himself to her. "My name is Robert Dylan, and I would like to see Mr. Sandburg."
The 86-year-old Sandburg had collected more than 280 ballads in The American Songbag, and Dylan
wanted to discuss them. "I had three records out at the time," Dylan says, laughing at his youthful temerity.
"The Times They Are a-Changin’ record was the one I gave him a copy of. Of course he had never heard of me."
After just 20 minutes, Sandburg excused himself.
I’m betting Sandburg went into the next room and tried to wrap his head around what had just happened.
Whence Your Motivation?
What do you think about this?
From THE WRITER’S BOOK OF HOPE: ENCOURAGEMENT AND ADVICE FROM A VETERAN by Ralph Keyes:
Over the course of her distinguished career, Margaret Atwood made a hobby of collecting reasons for writing that authors mention in their autobiographies, press interviews, on talk shows and during "conversations in the backs of bookstores before the dreaded group signing …" From the long list Atwood recorded in NEGOTIATING WITH THE DEAD, a few of my favorites include:
- To make money so I could sneer at those who formerly sneered at me.
- To show the bastards.
- To justify my failures in school.
- To act out antisocial behavior for which I would have been punished in real life.
- To make myself appear more interesting than I actually was.
- Because I was possessed.
This shocks me.
I admit that "showing the bastards" is part of my motivation for wanting to get published.
But actually, that’s not even true.
It’s more that I want to get published so my kids can see how working hard and not giving up can pay off.
Plus, I don’t want them thinking I’m delusional.
Whatever the reasons are these days, I certainly did not begin writing as a strategy for getting back at people in my past.
I mean, come on.
There’s got to be a less painful method for getting revenge.
So, confession time.
Anyone here start writing so they could stick it to their high school English teacher?
Does That Make Me Crazy?
The thermometer reads 93 degrees.
I just got back from running on the trails.
Face is red.
Tongue is hanging out.
And all I can think about is this:
Hipster, Revisited
Still reading Carl Sandburg’s Prairie-Town Boy.
And again, he used that phrase I find so funny coming from him:
" . . . tried to get my head around the English Magna Carta."
Trail Running
Went for a run on the trails early this evening.
It was gorgeous!
Green, green, green as a result of this.
Western meadowlarks perched on the rabbit brush.
Singing their little hearts out.
Serenading me.
My huffing and puffing not quite so melodious.
But that’s okay.
I’m working on it.
I absolutely love this time of year.
Friday Five: The Blooming Edition
One: a longtime friend, Vinca…..
Two, Three, Four: newly planted garden friends, Columbine and Clematis…..
And Five: my most tenacious "friend," Dandelion….
Wishing everyone a bloomin’ weekend!
Tracy Abell 