Author: Tracy Abell

How to ruin a move in four words

/ Tracy Abell

“It has a twist.”

That’s what the ticket-taker said to us yesterday at the movie theater. The older woman informed us who starred in the movie (as if that was something we hadn’t already researched), said she’d loved it and then added that the movie had a twist.

As soon as those words were out there, I felt cheated. I didn’t want to know anything about the movie (aside from the actors and the basic premise), but it was too late. The ticket-taker had spoken.

laurel-and-hardy-shh

And boy oh boy, her words had a major impact on how I watched that film. I kept thinking, “Is this it? Is this the twist?”

Will he let him go?

Was he actually killed by the rattlesnake rather than the gun?

Will the gun now go off and kill that other guy?

Will he go for his gun and start a shootout?

It was distracting; my brain wouldn’t stop contemplating the possibilities. All because that well-meaning woman thought she needed to make small talk.

And you know the worst part? There wasn’t even a twist in this movie! The closing scene left the viewer with a few questions which only means that the movie was open-ended. Open-ended does not equal twist.

THERE WAS NOT A TWIST!

Rant over.

 

 

 

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A hit of Molly

/ Tracy Abell

So keep fightin’ for freedom and justice, beloveds,
but don’t you forget to have fun doin’ it.
Lord, let your laughter ring forth.
Be outrageous, ridicule the fraidy-cats,
rejoice in all the oddities that freedom can produce.
~  Molly Ivins (1944 – 2007)

360_molly_ivins

Just really missing ol’ Molly today. She’d show us the way through all the dumb and ugly raining down on us. She knew the cost of fear.

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Amelia, is that you?

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

This morning I took my exercise and yoga routine to the basement in order to escape the cacophonous roofers. As I did a quad stretch next to the support post, something caught my eye:
_mg_0300-amelia-earhart-inititals

AE?
My first thought was that those initials were etched by Alex E., one of Zebu’s best friends throughout childhood. But then it hit me: Amelia Earhart!

Because look what else I found just inches from those inititals:
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That’s clearly either a flight route or maybe even a rough sketch of Howland Island where Amelia was headed on that fateful flight. Do you know what this means? I’ve uncovered a clue that could help solve the mystery of Amelia Earhart’s disappearance!

Wow! Who knew what was in store when I woke up this morning?!

(Okay, okay. Cut me some slack. I’m suffering the effects of WAY too much loud noise. The hammers are echoing in my head.)

 

 

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Mixed feelings

/ Tracy Abell / 1 Comment

Three years ago Zippy and I finally faced reality and replaced the shake shingles on top of our house. Our former neighbors, the ones higher on the hill than us and with a view of our roof from their kitchen, were thrilled.

We were tired of retrieving shingles from the yard every time the wind blew. Also, we were concerned the roof might start leaking.

The main reason we’d delayed action was that we couldn’t decide on the type of roof we wanted. Actually, that’s not true. We knew we wanted a steel roof because it was a more sustainable and environmentally benign material than asphalt shingles. But our budget finally pushed us toward asphalt and we consoled ourselves with the knowledge that the house had had the same roof for many, many years and that the new roof would last another many years.

Wrong.

A while back, my neighborhood was hit by a hail storm that ruined every single roof. (Except for the steel roof two streets over). Every day there’s hammering somewhere in the neighborhood. Today, that hammering is close to home.

Not my roof, but the same scenario.

Not my roof, but the same scenario.

Right now there’s a roll-off dumpster in my driveway filled with three-year-old shingles torn from the roof. Tomorrow the roofers will install a new asphalt shingle roof.

While I’m grateful for my home and the literal roof over our heads, I also feel a great sadness. We’re sending another load of waste to the landfill.

 

 

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Hey ho! Let’s Go!

/ Tracy Abell

Okay, this is a stretch.
Coco isn’t a Ramones fan
and she doesn’t sing Blitzkrieg Bop.

Still.

This expression, as she stands at the door waiting to be let inside for dinner, just screams HEY! HO! LET’S GO!Coco

Or maybe I’m projecting a punk attitude on her because I know how when that door opens she’ll run inside and her back legs will go out from under her as she negotiates the turn to her food dish. Pure mosh pit enthusiasm.

Hey! Ho!

 

 

 

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Garden gone mad

/ Tracy Abell

I’ve neglected my flower gardens this year and it’s very crowded out there, both front and back yards. The thistles and bindweed are giving the perennials a run for their money. I spent two hours out there today working on one small area in back, and it still looks like a garden gone mad.

Asters, day lilies, sedum, yarrow, and three shrubs that have run amok.

Asters, day lilies, sedum, yarrow, and three shrubs that have run amok.

It’s a vicious cycle:
I’m overwhelmed by the mess
and avoid going out there
which means more stuff grows out of control
which I then avoid.

Some women fantasize having a cabana boy,
but I dream of Chance the gardener.

 

 

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The right tool for the job

/ Tracy Abell

Sometimes a manuscript’s revision requires a total knock-down.
hammer-sledgehammer-mallet-tool

Other times a lighter touch is needed.
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Today my process feels closer to weaving than rewriting. I’m focusing on existing threads and interlacing them with other strands.
Loom

Note: This woman has a distinct advantage in that she will, without a doubt, know when she’s finished her project. When it comes to revision, I don’t always know when enough is enough.

 

 

 

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Mail drama

/ Tracy Abell

Too tired to go into all the details, but will say that I truly do appreciate the employees at my local post office. It’s a whole new experience trying to mail something to another country. Throughout the lengthy transaction (itemized Customs Form, I’m looking at you!), the postal employee was patient. I messed up a number of things and she set everything right.

I’ve long been a fan of the people doing that vital work and today want to publicly salute everyone at the United States Postal Service. Thank you for your service.

United State Postal Serevice logo

There are major efforts being made to dismantle Social Security, the public schools, the post office – anything that benefits the population has to be dismantled. Efforts against the U.S. Postal Service are particularly surreal.
~  Noam Chomsky

I’m with you, Noam.

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Channeling Muhammad Ali

/ Tracy Abell

Bee on coneflower

I must dig deep to find the essence I’ve overlooked, hoping that as I revise I don’t trample the delicate structure already in place.

Gotta float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.

 

 

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Waving goodbye to Gene Wilder

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

I was very sad to learn Gene Wilder had left the planet until I found out he suffered from dementia. Then I said, “Good.” Because fuck Alzheimer’s. But my heart still hurts knowing there won’t be any other wonderful performances from that gentle genius. I grew up on Gene Wilder movies and it’s hard to wave goodbye.

Gene Wilder accomplished the impossible: his subversive performance as Willy Wonka made me love the movie more than the book. That never happens! I ALWAYS prefer books to movie adaptations.

WillyWonka GeneWilder as WillyWonka

Thank you for the many laughs.
Rest in peace.

 

 

 

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All our exploring

/ Tracy Abell

Just finished a Skype session with Zebu who is in Sweden. He’s been there about ten days now and feeling more settled, especially after getting this issue resolved. I carried the laptop around the house so he could see the dogs and cats in their various poses of slumber and he told us of his many adventures.

The son who demanded I hold him for the first year of his life now eats breakfast paste from a tube and purposely gets lost in an unfamiliar city.

Who knew?

Marcel curled up next to my weight bench that's covered with the T-shirt Zebu designed for his 6th birthday.

Marcel curled up next to my weight bench that’s covered with the T-shirt Zebu designed for his 6th birthday.

We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
~  T. S. Eliot

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O pioneer woman

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Zippy and I just returned from a hike in the open space. We walked up the street a little ways and were out on the trails.

Clouds and sky over ridge

Invasive mulleins in the foreground.

Unfortunately, I started having discomfort in one of my toes and guessed that the neighboring nail was cutting into the skin. We stopped so I could take off my boot and sock and, sure enough, my toe was bloody. So I found a small rock and used it as a file to grind down the nail’s sharp edge. It worked! For the first time ever I had faith that I could’ve survived more than an afternoon in Lonesome Dove (contrary to a friend’s long ago teasing).

Zippy and I continued on our hike. There was so much cool stuff to see (flowering thistles and seeded-out knapwood plants and bright red rose hips and wildflowers and hawks and songbirds), and I kicked myself for not bringing camera and binoculars. But Zippy used his phone camera for these shots, and I’m glad to have documentation of our lovely hike on this August afternoon.

Another mullein invading the space on the right side of photo.

Another mullein invading the space on the right side of photo.

This photo doesn't do justice to this thicket of white stalks which reminded me of birch trunks but are probably wild parsley or wild parsnip or something like that?

This photo doesn’t do justice to the thicket of white stalks which reminded me of birch trunks but is probably wild parsley or wild parsnip or something like that?

I’m so very grateful for open space that allows me to clear my mind and ease my soul.

 

 

 

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A little bit of blue

/ Tracy Abell

Last night I found out I wasn’t selected as a Pitch Wars mentee and I admit to feeling down. I went to bed thinking I was a loserhead. Then I woke up this morning and reread feedback I’d received from one mentoring team last night, and the wheels began turning. When another mentor sent feedback, one of her comments dovetailing nicely with a bit from the earlier critique, the wheels in my head started cranking in earnest.

Did I agree with everything written? Nope.
Did I have AHA moments as I read their comments? Yep.
Can I quit this manuscript when it’s within my power to strengthen it? Nope.
So does this mean I’m embarking on yet another round of revisions? Yep.

The season's last clematis bloom.

The season’s last clematis bloom.

I exchanged emails with a writer friend about all this and he was a bit horrified that I’m revisiting this manuscript for the umpteenth time. His exact words: I think you’re the type of person who puts a band-aid on just to rip it off!

But that’s the writing life: patches of blue poking through the clouds, an occasional burst of sunshine, and a steady stream of self-inflicted pain.

So it goes.

 

 

 

 

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Live music lessons

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Last night’s concert with Shovels & Rope and Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats filled me with joy and admiration. I’m not a musician nor have I ever played one on TV, but I felt a kinship with the people on the Red Rocks Amphitheatre stage.

Why? Because as I watched and listened to all those talented musicians, I understood on a gut level the work they’ve done. They’re creative people who have put in years and years to get where they’re at, and they’ve enjoyed glimpses of triumph and then been dragged down low. They’ve been discouraged yet kept going and when something wasn’t working, they tried something else. Every one of them took chances and eventually triumphed.

I want to be like those musicians when I grow up.

Antique Typewriter (with lettering)

 

 

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Let there be music!

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

In a few minutes Zippy and I are headed here:

Red Rocks Amphitheatre

Red Rocks Amphitheatre

to listen to opening act Shovels & Rope:

and then headline act Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats:

We try to see one Red Rocks show each summer.
It’s always a treat.

 

 

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Weebles wobble

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

If you presume to love something,
you must love the process of it much more than you love the finished product.
 ~  John Irving

Right now I’m not entirely sure I love the fiction-writing process. As I revise this young adult novel, I’m starting to question whether I have any business trying to get published. I received some feedback on another manuscript that has me questioning my talent, and today I’m more wobbly than I’ve been in some time.

So. The bad news is I’m scared and exhausted and wishing someone could cut out this obsessive writer part of me so I’d never have to feel this way again.

The good news? My experience tells me that this ugly fog will eventually lift and then fade to a very faint memory. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I might not always love the process, but I trust it.

a copy

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Neighborhood steeplechase

/ Tracy Abell

I’ve been having some health issues so took three weeks off from running. During that time I did a lot of speedwalking around the neighborhood and while it got my heart pumping, I felt wistful whenever people ran past me. I need to run.

So it was a big HOORAY on Monday when Zippy and I did a short run around the neighborhood! We timed today’s run to end just minutes before the Olympics men’s final 3000m steeplechase and in preparation for watching that race, I spent my run scanning for potential hurdles and water jumps. There was a little runoff in one of the streets and I’m pleased to report that I cleared that water no problem!

This image from the 2015 African Youth Championships. (Clyde Koa Wing)

This image from the 2015 African Youth Championships. (Clyde Koa Wing)

We finished our run and watched the men’s final, cheering on all the athletes. Evan Jager from (one of) my alma mater, UW-Madison, won silver today. A few days ago we saw Emma Coburn from Zebu’s alma mater (UC-Boulder) win bronze. Such inspirational races.

Maybe I should start hurdling the boulders next to the trails!

 

 

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