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Crying “Uncle!”

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

A little while back I wrote about feeling underwhelmed by Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. I surmised that the story contained way too much tell and not nearly enough show. Holy Batcave, I had no idea how much worse it could get.

I just slogged through 60 pages of The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James,portrait of a lady cover and am giving up. Publicly. Because while I felt letdown by Conrad’s penchant for telling his reader how to feel about his characters, at least Heart of Darkness was relatively brief. Not so with The Portrait of a Lady which is a whopping and mind-numbingly verbose 550 pages. And many, many of those 550 pages consist of one long paragraph that continues for another page or more.

I conceded defeat on page 61. James wrote: “When Isabel was interested, she asked a great many questions . . .”

Really, Mr. James? You felt the need to smack this reader over the head, AGAIN, with that tidbit of information? You didn’t think all the time you’d already spent committing mind-masturbation on Isabel Archer would be enough?! I read your words and understood you wanted me to grasp that everyone around Isabel views her as a bright and independent young woman who values her independence, and that Isabel also considers herself to be bright and independent and so lives her life accordingly which means asking lots of questions so she can continue being, you know, bright and independent.

Life’s too short. There are oodles of other books on my shelves I haven’t yet read.

Cliche of the Day

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

“They grow up so fast.”

DCP_1696

That’s Zebu on the left, playing with a neighbor-friend, a bunch of years ago.

On Sunday, Zebu flew out of state to attend his freshman orientation and registration at the college he’ll begin attending next month. On this trip, he took his first solo taxi ride, stayed at a motel by himself, jumped through the many hoops necessary for registration, and secured one of two remaining spots in a chemistry class. Whew. We’re picking him up at the airport tonight.

He’s about three feet taller than he was in that photo, but Zebu has the same spunk and determination exhibited there. (Warning! Cliche #2 alert): Some things never change.

Mark Twain: The Cure for the Blahs

/ Tracy Abell

I’m reading The Diaries of Adam and Eve by Mark Twain.

The Diaries of Adam and Eve cover 2

Every time I read Twain, I crack up. Such a wit.

This is what got me laughing in the opening pages:

Extracts from Adam’s Diary
Tuesday
Been examining the great waterfall. It is the finest thing on the estate, I think. The new creature calls it Niagara Falls–why, I am sure I do not know. Says it looks like Niagara Falls. That is not a reason; it is mere waywardness and imbecility. I get no chance to name anything myself. The new creature names everything that comes along, before I can get in a protest. And always that same pretext is offered–it looks like the thing. There is the dodo, for instance. Says the moment one looks at it one sees at a glance that it “looks like a dodo.” It will have to keep that name, no doubt. It wearies me to fret about it, and it does no good, anyway. Dodo! It looks no more like a dodo than I do.

In Which I Reveal My Own Heart of Darkness

/ Tracy Abell / 1 Comment

I don’t ever blog about books I’ve read unless I want to recommend them to others. But because the author has long since departed, I think it’s okay for me to be publicly vocalize my feelings of WTF?!

Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. A book that feels like a whole lotta tell and not a whole lotta show. We’re told, over and over and over again, that Kurtz is an extraordinary man who holds people in his thrall. But when Kurtz finally showed up in the story, I did not find him believable or compelling. He just felt to me like some guy who’d lost his mind in the jungle. I was given no reason to believe the native people would be heartbroken at his departure. (Unless they were upset because they’d never get the chance to exact revenge on him for putting those heads on those poles.)

So. That’s my take on Heart of Darkness. Deep, huh?

And now, apropos of nothing, here’s a squirrel:
squirrel in peanut feeder 031

 

If You Can’t Take the Heat

/ Tracy Abell

Today it’s in the 90s.
Hot, sweat-inducing weather.

As I walked by my neighbor’s yard, he called out, “Hi, Tracy! Nice day!”
I replied, “A little toasty for my taste.”
His response: “I still remember January.”

Starlings in bath 016

Point well taken. Although, who’s to say these starlings weren’t a bit overheated?

Of Birds and Automobiles

/ Tracy Abell

Another random photo find on the computer: an American Kestrel, which is a small falcon.
Kestrel 057

My intent was to find a kestrel or falcon-related quotation to include here, but nothing rang true. Until, that is, I came across this quote from Dave Barry:

“The Ford Falcon holds the proud title of Slowest Car Ever Built. In certain areas of the country you can go to a stoplight and find Falcon drivers who pressed down on their accelerators in 1963 and are still waiting for their cars to move.”

My very first car was a Ford Falcon Sprint. It looked something like this (except with an ugly, scabrous paint job):

ford falcon sprint
Mr. Barry’s quote made me laugh even though I don’t remember experiencing acceleration issues. But there are all sorts of things I don’t remember from my L.A. life way back then, so maybe it’s true. At least I made it out of the intersection.

Letter to Self

/ Tracy Abell

Dear Tracy,

Angst and uncertainty are part of the creative process. You know that. You also know those feelings are best handled by writing and pushing through to the other side. But sometimes those feelings become so huge and unwieldy and the voices are shrieking so loudly in your head that you convince yourself you hate the project and want to quit it forever.

Please don’t give in to those feelings.

Instead, remember this: sometimes you feel stuck and unable to move forward NOT because you’re no-talent and the project is worthless, but because your approach is wrong. Sometimes you can’t make progress because something deep inside your creative self digs in its heels and refuses to budge. Sometimes you just need a little time to find the way.

Your project doesn’t suck. You don’t hate it. And it would be a sad, sad thing if you quit it forever.

Love,
Tracy

You Talkin’ to Me?

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

“This is not a book that should be tossed lightly aside.
It should be hurled with great force.”
~  Dorothy Parker

Dorothy Parker was 50 years old when George Platt Lynes took this portrait in 1943.

Dorothy Parker was 50 years old when George Platt Lynes took this portrait in 1943.

Okay, so Ms. Parker was not referring to my work-in-progress, but the quote strikes a nerve. Wandering the wilderness of my creative mind is always a scary endeavor, and one which I’m currently going to great lengths to avoid. I would very much appreciate a sign . . .

Random Image, Random Thought

/ Tracy Abell

Clicked at random and this photo by Wildebeest came up. It feels very YA and appropriate to my project, except for the fact no one in my book skates. But still . . .
Skating2 063

Maybe I should write a Lizard King into my story.

The more things change, . . .

/ Tracy Abell

. . . the more they stay the same. (Or, for the Francophiles: plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose)

I’ve written before about elder son’s (Wildebeest) penchant for doing things the hard and harder way. I didn’t exactly believe that that rock-headed character trait would disappear as he got older, but I admit to thinking it would, um, soften. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Whew.

I really do have to laugh, though, because when I needed an image for this post, I opened a photo file and clicked at random. This is what appeared:

Dreadlock attempt (hey, that's a great name for a band!)

Dreadlock Attempt (hey, that’s a great name for a band!)

Rather than believing that the Universe is peeing-its-pants-laughing at me, I choose to believe the Universe has my back.

When It’s Good to Be Wrong

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

Yesterday I took Zoey to the vet for a thorough check-up because I was sure there was something seriously wrong with her. I was sure she had a tumor, just as our long-ago Packy had a tumor that made her mid-section feel just as Zoey’s did on Sunday.

I was wrong! Zoey does not have a tumor. Zoey is overweight and may need medication for her blood pressure, but otherwise is doing pretty well for an older gal.

Hooray for being wrong!

 

Batman, red leaves, cat and dogs 012

One Very Average Dog

/ Tracy Abell / 1 Comment

“The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.”
~ Andy Rooney

Zoey and Lebowski 002Zoey, of the unconditional love and bad breath, is at the vet’s right now receiving a “senior exam.” I’m hoping I’m wrong about what I sense. Either way, I’m leaving now to pick her up and bring her home to her best friend, Coco. The reunion will result in tail-wagging that would sting my legs if I was foolish enough to get in the way.magpie, coco, and zoey 012

Ties That Bind (Up Your Mind)

/ Tracy Abell

At the end of May, Zebu graduated from high school and was one of the speakers. The ceremony was held at Red Rocks Amphitheater (coolest place ever!), but we were seated halfway up the venue so had to rely on the Jumbotron. (Aside: It was a thrill seeing Zebu and friends on the big screen.)

My older brother and his girlfriend also attended, sitting even farther from the stage. Later on, he told me he couldn’t see a whole lot of details but did notice Zebu’s red tie beneath his black gown. I reminded my bro he’d given Zebu that tie for Christmas one year (along with white gym socks), thinking that was a cool factoid. NOT. Rather than feeling warm and nostalgic, my brother panicked a bit because he had no memory of that and went into a short tailspin about getting old and forgetful. I eventually helped the silly codger to a chair and handed him a glass of milk to calm his nerves, and we laughed it off.

Fast forward to today. I just found photographic proof of the tie AND gym socks. Behold, Christmas eve 2005:

l-r: Wildebeest, Zoey, Tracy, Coco, Zebu, and Uncle Pizza.

l-r: Wildebeest, Zoey, Tracy, Coco, Zebu, and Uncle Pizza.

I’m thrilled with this evidence, but am not sure whether it will soothe or further agitate my brother’s mind . . .

 

One Novel Idea

/ Tracy Abell

Looking at photos on the computer, I came across this:

(I can't find photographer's name)

This picture is in my bedroom. I bought the print when I was pregnant with Wildebeest because of the Kurt Vonnegut quote from God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater.**

One night while we were reading in bed, I mentioned to Zippy that I needed a new writing project. He pointed across the room and suggested I write the story of those five babies.
I did, and it became Framed: Toby Hart’s Official Police Statement. (In the second draft or so of the middle-grade novel, I had to kill off one of the kids. Well, not bump her off, but delete her storyline. Oddly enough, it was the baby who is front and center.)

The book didn’t sell and I have a bunch of notes on how to rewrite it, but in the meantime, despite the rejection, the babies and I share a kind coexistence. Kurt would want it that way.

** Full quote:
“Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth.
It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded.
At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here.
There’s only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.”
~ Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Friday Five: The TracyWorld Edition

/ Tracy Abell

1) While much of Bob Dylan’s HIGHWAY 61 REVISITED is good music to run to, Ballad of a Thin Man is not a song that will put pep in your step.

2) Zebu is binge-watching all six seasons of LOST (and luring me in from time to time), and what pops into my head at least once per viewing is How are none of these people badly burned and peeling?! Yo, Dharma Initiative, you remembered the lima beans but forgot the sunblock!

3) I want to live in a world in which cookies and beer have no caloric consequences.

4) I have SO. MANY. PHOTOS on my computer that haven’t seen the light of day, so here’s a random selection (capture of a Red-Tailed Hawk eyass from the Cornell Labs cam a couple years ago):Capture

5) I recently read T.C. Boyle’s WATER MUSIC and Zadie Smith’s ON BEAUTY (part of this effort), and am trying hard to be inspired by their prowess for description rather than allowing their mad skills to intimidate me so much I take a match to my manuscript.

Putting You On Notice, 2014

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

Still here.
It’s been a crap year so far,
and I’m trying hard not to hold it against 2014.

(If you click on me, I will fill your screen with yellowy-goodness!)

(If you click on me, I will fill your screen with yellowy-goodness!)

There’s still almost half a calendar year left, so there’s time to turn this ship around.
You hear what I’m saying, 2014?

A Big Long Story About an Incredibly Evil Splinter

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

Two weeks ago I did something ill-advised, something I knew better than to do. Two weeks ago, I got tired of seeing one of my gigantic yarrow plants (5+ feet tall) crowding out one of my blue mist spirea plants (maybe 2 feet tall). So I grabbed my cutter and went out to trim back the yarrow. Dumb, dumb, dumb! Yarrow plants have the toughest, woodiest stems of any plant in my yard, and I know better than to touch it without gloves.

Sure enough, I managed to impale the middle knuckle of my right hand on old growth from last year. Instant agony. Stream of profanity. Regret, pain, and nearly instantaneous swelling.

I dug out a splinter and waited for the injury to resolve itself. Instead, it swelled more, became more painful (possibly due to me knocking it into everything), and turned into a fleshy mood-ring that alternated between pink and angry red and blue and purple and, oh-my-goddess-now-it’s-starting-to-look-black.

Imagine this is my knuckle, minus the lovely silver setting.

Imagine this is my knuckle, minus the lovely silver setting.

I hung in there until this past Saturday when pus showed up, and I finally went to the doctor. With the use of groovy magnifying goggles and the finest pair of tweezers I’ve seen, she removed a splinter and gave me a prescription for antibiotics. Five days later, the mood ring was as angry as ever and the knuckle was so sore I nearly wept whenever anything touched it.

So yesterday after swallowing the last antibiotic pill, I returned to the doctor’s office where she donned the goggles again and poked at me with the sharp tweezers I wasn’t liking nearly as much, until she found a small splinter. Hooray. Not. I was sure I was in for weeks of tiny splinter removal as the cursed yarrow worked its multiple evils out of my flesh. Then she started digging some more as I gritted my teeth and curled my toes. A long moment later, she said, “Here’s one.” Another tiny piece stuck up from my knuckle. Hooray? And then she grasped it with the tweezers, and it was like a magician pulling a scarf from a sleeve.

One half-inch long.Tracy's splinterI realize the gargantuan image is overkill, but I cannot stress enough how freakin’ huge that thing seemed when she pulled it out. We both made loud exclamations of the “Holy crap, Batman!” variety.

Last night for the first time in weeks my poor old knuckle wasn’t stiff and sore, and today I can make a fist without any pain. I can start lifting weights again! I can punch someone in the snoot without feeling (much) pain! I’ve got my life back!

Life is grand and I wish everyone a wonderful, splinter-free weekend!

In My Head and Out My Window

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

I’m drafting a scene in my YA,
slightly confused about the sequence of events.
Then thunder rumbling in the distance brought me to the window
and I found reassurance in the sky; there’s confusion up there, too.
Clouds 001Me and the sky, just two peas in a pod.

 

Backyard Photographic Safari

/ Tracy Abell

We just had a gentle rainfall and then the sun came out
so I ventured into the backyard with my camera,
searching for some images.

Here’s the untouched documentation (you may click photos to enlarge):

Bumblebee and Lamb's Ear

Bumblebee and Lamb’s Ear

Valerian and Moonshine Yarrow

Valerian and Moonshine Yarrow

Wild Rose

Wild Rose

Apache Plume

Apache Plume

When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything
else in the universe.  ~  John Muir 

Committing Heresy: No More Books!

/ Tracy Abell / 9 Comments

I have loads of books in my house
and there are overstuffed book shelves in most every room.
While I do try to live a not-so-consumptive lifestyle,
I’ve always given myself a free pass when it came to books;
there was never a whole lot of guilt when I bought more because
“I’m a reader and a writer, so what’s the big deal?”

Image from alltooeasy, morguefile.com

Image from alltooeasy, morguefile.com

Then a funny thing happened.

I got tired of seeing so many titles on my shelves that I hadn’t yet read.
Between buying books and checking out books from the library, I had no motivation to read what was already sitting there and, in some cases, had been patiently awaiting attention for years and years.

My new approach to books is that I may only read what’s already in my home.
So far I’ve read Spalding Gray’s Morning, Noon and Night and The Infinite Plan 
by Isabel Allende, two books that have sat on my shelves for so many years that
I cannot remember where and when I acquired them. I’m glad I read them, but will now
donate them to another reader and, in the process, create a little breathing space on my shelves and in my head. I’m currently reading and enjoying Saul Bellow’s Henderson the Rain King.

So far it’s only three books, but I already feel lighter.
Also? Even though I’m currently not spending a dime in support of the publishing industry,
I feel as if I’m truly honoring books and authors because I’m being deliberate and thoughtful in what I read rather than living in a constant flurry of books that either require space on the shelves or must be read within a certain time frame to avoid late fees.

Moral of this story? My new heresy has resulted in guilt-free, stress-free reading, and I’m loving it.