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Basketball Jones
Zebu is now a high school freshman
and on the basketball team.
Last night was his first game, but I wasn’t there.
Zebu was a bit nervous and told Zippy and me
it would be better if we didn’t attend.
Wildebeest (junior) went to the game
along with three friends.
Apparently they yelled and cheered for everything
Zebu did on the court, and he played a great game.
He said he wants Wildebeest & Co at every game.
Image from morguefiles.com
There has been a HUGE shift in their relationship,
and I think it’s because they’re in high school together.
Somehow that’s equalized their kinship,
and now they truly enjoy each other’s company.
I wanted to share this because I know some of you despair
that your younger children will ever be friends.
There’s no guarantee they will, of course, but it doesn’t hurt
for me to dangle some hope.
The hope that someday things would be better
got me through some difficult times with those boys.
Holding Hands is Overrated
So, Obama. Can we quit with the Kumbaya already?
Holding Hands is Overrated
Originally published at Tracy Abell: Writer. Runner. Birder.. You can comment here or there.
Originally published at Tracy Abell: Writer. Runner. Birder.. You can comment here or there.
So, Obama. Can we quit with the Kumbaya already?
Protected: The Salvage Yard
The Rotting Corpse of Fall
AGNES by Tony Cochran
It’s scary warm here,
and winter feels very far-off.
Can’t believe I’m saying this:
We need snow (although I’d settle for rain).
Anything would be better than this rotting corpse of fall.
When Celebrations Collide
Today is my birthday.
I’m 48 years old.
Today is also Thanksgiving.
There will be pumpkin-pie with candles.
Today I give thanks for my friendships
and the abundance of love we share.
I wish everyone a warm and wonderful Thanksgiving.
© Tracy Abell 2010
(Apologies for the mammoth image. I’ve devoted some time to shrinkage but cannot crack the code. I am giving up. Call it a birthday indulgence.)
Old Family Traditions
Ah, yes, holiday customs . . .
AGNES by Tony Cochran
I’d love to hear your Thanksgiving traditions.
I’ll go first:
My in-laws spend much time setting table and preparing food,
but once they sit down, they practically inhale the meal.
As one horrified guest exclaimed: "You’re a pack of wolves!"
(*waves to Zippy*)
Okay, not as interesting as the Cowboy Copas,
and probably not so much tradition as bad habit,
but you get the idea.
So spill, people!
Sunday Funny (on a Monday)
My mother is visiting from Albuquerque,
and yesterday went for a walk in the neighborhood.
She was approached by a woman who was lost.
The woman was visiting from San Antonio
and had been running the trails with her boyfriend.
(Our neighborhood is surrounded by 2400+ acres of open space
and there are lots of trails).
Apparently, despite him telling her to stay close,
when he headed onto a lower trail,
she opted for a higher trail.
She lost sight of him and had no idea where she was.
Mom brought her home.
After failed Google attempts to figure out name of boyfriend’s condo complex,
she remembered the major cross streets in his neighborhood.
I told her I could run back there with her and she was game,
but then I realized we didn’t know the exact location so running was a bad idea.
Instead, I drove her to the neighborhood and she was able to recognize enough
landmarks to find her boyfriend’s place (she turned giddy with relief when she saw
the horses she was looking for: "Horses! Horses!")
She knew his garage key pad code so could get in.
Which was good because he was undoubtedly driving around looking for her.
Moral of the story: When someone says "stay close," heed the advice.
Worry Wart
AGNES by Tony Cochran
Man, can I relate.
I do not, however list my worries.
There’s no need;
they play in a loop at three in the morning.
Revising. Again
Courage and perseverance have a magical talisman,
before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish into air.
~ John Quincy Adams
I had the great good fortune of receiving a free manuscript evaluation and critique
from Sacha Whalen via the Blue Boards.
It was fast and comprehensive.
Sacha had much good to say about BIRD BRAIN,
but pointed out (among many other things), that
the opening chapters could be stronger.
She even gave me an excellent suggestion on how to do that,
a way to raise the stakes throughout the story.
So here I go again.
I’m mostly excited, but also a little bit scared.
Courage is saying, "Maybe what I’m doing isn’t working;
maybe I should try something else."
~ ANNA LAPPÉ
maybe I should try something else."
~ ANNA LAPPÉ
Wanted: Hunk of Molded Plastic With Organizational Skills
I need a synopsis for BIRD BRAIN.
I’m trying hard to write a one-pager,
but all those plot lines keep taking off
in opposite directions.
I could use a wrangler.
I’d Rather Be Dancing
The painters are coming on Monday.
I have walls to wipe down, heat registers to scrub,
switch plates and pull knobs to remove,
and a whole lot more.
At least I don’t have to dust a crystal chandelier.
That IS what she’s doing, right?
Wishing everyone a wonderful, paint-prep-free weekend.
Get out there and dance the fandango!
Agnes and Bob . . . Again
AGNES by Tony Cochran
When I was younger and colossally more naive,
I called Information in hopes of getting Bob’s number in Malibu.
Clearly, my efforts would’ve been better spent on
forging a friendship with Agnes.
Protected: Query – BIRD BRAIN
Be Still My Heart
AGNES by Tony Cochran
I’m just so excited to have Agnes and Dylan together,
I’ll forgive the complaining, hopelessly nasal comment.
After all, she did acknowledge his genius.
And there really is no arguing with the nasal.
Friday Five: The Catching Up Edition
1) Hello, friends! Maybe you noticed I’ve been AWOL from TracyWorld. Why? Busy, busy, busy.
2) Last weekend with the help of Zippy, Wildebeest, and Zebu, I placed 12 tons of landscaping
rock around the perimeter of our newly landscaped yard. Yesterday I spent the day with a Rug Doctor,
bringing the basement carpeting back to life. This weekend I’ll be cleaning walls and beams in preparation
for the painting crew. I appear to be nesting. No, I’m not pregnant.
3) Despite the above, I’ve been working on BIRD BRAIN revisions. This round, I’m working off ‘s
comments, and am thrilled with the improvements. I’m so grateful for all the wonderful critiques I’ve received,
and am looking forward to querying soon.
4) Tuesday night I got together with who was in town. We’d never met in person but bonded
immediately and had a wonderful time in a sports bar on election night. Really. If you have to suffer through a
political crap storm, you want to do it with someone smart and funny. I’ll always remember I was with Phoebe when
I learned civil liberties champion Sen. Russ Feingold lost his re-election bid (shame on my fellow cheeseheads!)
*** IMAGINE A DELICIOUS BROWNIE SUNDAE PHOTO HERE ***
(Because we were sporting I VOTED stickers, the bar gave us a free brownie sundae but I don’t know how to
send phone pic to email).
5) Yesterday Wildebeest turned 17. I keep thinking I’m too young to have a child that old, but I guess the
facts are against me on that one.
I’ve missed everyone and hope to catch up on LiveJournal when I get a little more breathing room.
I wish you all a glorious, early November weekend!
Where I Write
I’ve been thinking about my writing process lately,
and how I need to be in different spaces/places
at different points in a project.
A while back, wrote about walking on the beach
and how that inspires her writing.
I commented that I was currently working in a closed room,
back to the window,
facing my whiteboard,
earplugs inserted.
It felt a bit pathetic to admit that,
but it was what I needed at that point in my BIRD BRAIN revisions.
No distractions.
Just me inside my head,
But for the past week, I’ve been sitting in my chair in front of the
sliding glass door, watching as
birds fly past,
land on the wires,
or hop about the plum tree branches.
Eurasian Collared Doves © Tracy Abell 2010
I’m still doing BIRD BRAIN revisions
but maybe it’s because I’m so much closer to being done
that I need the visual inspiration that got me started on this project.
I need birds.
A couple weeks ago, I did not.
And I’m not sure why.
Do you have different work spaces for each stage of your projects?
Bird Brain in Gear!
Hope everyone had a wonderful weekend.
It was lovely here and we had many feathered visitors.
© Tracy Abell 2010
I’ve received helpful feedback on BIRD BRAIN
and am madly revising. The book is already so much stronger!
Hugs and smooches to , , and ![[info]](https://i0.wp.com/l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
lorrainemt!
You guys are the very best.
So I’m headed back into the revision cave,
but wanted to extend wishes for a glorious Monday filled with
happy writing and maybe a bird friend or two.
In Solidarity with LGBT Youth
There’s no such thing as too much love.
Transition
On Sunday I worked for hours cleaning up my flower beds, but took time out to aim my camera at the lovely fall foliage
and the backdrop of blue, blue sky.
These leaves are neither fully here nor there in coloration, but are in transition.
Just like me and my project.
BIRD BRAIN is so much closer to being ready to face the world than it was a few weeks ago,
but there is still work to be done.
Right now BIRD BRAIN is a healthy and happy green, but I hope to crank up the intensity
and also bring out those glorious yellows and brilliant reds.
Hokey, but true.
What, Me Worry?
Last Friday I sent BIRD BRAIN to the four generous souls who
offered to read and critique my manuscript.
It’s much, much too soon to expect responses, but that hasn’t stopped
my mind from turning into a writhing nest of worries and fears.
AGNES by Tony Cochran
Maybe I’ll just get it over with and go put underpants on my feet.
Prodding the Wildebeest
Wildebeest is a junior this year.
Attention to detail has never been his strong suit.
Last year at registration I paid for him to take some test,
I don’t remember which one.
It wasn’t until the end of the year I thought to ask him about it.
Whatever it was, he hadn’t taken it.
Money and opportunity down the drain.
This year’s registration included an optional fee for the PSAT.
I paid for it, sternly telling Wildebeest he had to pay attention to announcements,
and take the test this year.
I just got an email reminder that the exam is Saturday morning.
I called the counselor to make sure he was registered.
She said, "Yes."
And then she told me about meetings they’d held with the juniors
back in September, and about the study guides they’d been working on.
I sighed heavily and hung up.
I just finished texting with Wildebeest (I know, I shouldn’t do that during school). Turns out:
A) he knew about the test
B) he hoped to skip it
C) he does have a study guide
D) he’s been using it
What started out as just another one of those forehead-to-palm moments,
turned into a not-so-bad parental episode.
Whenever we avoid total and complete disaster, I consider that progress.
Earworms
I have a friend who once told me how to cure an earworm
(defined as "a tune that is stuck in one’s head, especially as unwanted or repetitive.")
She said to call up someone, sing the song snippet into the phone,
and then hang up.
Earworm Transfer!
For the past several days,
I’ve had the medley of songs
from the Teresa Brewer compilation album
advertised on television in the 70s
STUCK IN MY HEAD.
Over and over and over again,
I keep singing snippets of these songs.
Because I’m suffering multiple earworms,
I’m going to try a new approach to Earworm Transfer.
CAUTION: CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK:
Put another nickel in,
in the nickelodeon.
Wouldn’t any body care to meet a
sweet old-fashioned girl?
Bo Weevil, Bo Weevil,
where you been all day?
"Til I waltz again with you,
let no other hold your charms.
The funny thing is,
I watched very little television growing up.
The TV was mostly locked away
but at the whim of my father,
would occasionally reappear.
I remember being so, so happy to watch
"Gilligan’s Island" after school.
I’m betting the Teresa Brewer commercial played then.
It’s about thirty-five years later,
and I sing the songs in the exact order they played in the commercial.
Talk about the power of advertising.
The Original Social Networking
Isn’t she quaint?
AGNES by Tony Cochran
Tracy Abell 