Fun Stuff

Proud Beginner

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I was talking with some people recently about being a beginner. I have always been a champion of the idea that you can start anything at any age. There’s a quote I love that says:

Question: Do you know how old I’ll be by the time I learn to play the piano?

Answer: The same age you will be if you don’t.

However, I do believe the single hardest thing to be a beginner at is running. Every time I begin running (once every six months or so), it is the most uncomfortable and physically painful experience of my life. Inevitably I pick the wrong clothes – my shirt rides up, my pants fall down. My lungs feel like they’re about to give out at any moment and I think my heart may explode. I feel like everyone who drives by is gawking at me like “whoa, check out that chick with the bright red face who’s somehow tangled her headphones in her ponytail.” I can never breath when I done and I always develop a week long, hacking cough. Yet I still keep trying, every six months, because I really do want to be a runner.  So despite the horrendous wardrobe malfunctions and physical trauma, I am a proud beginner.

A Note on Michiganders

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When it comes to weather, we Michiganders are notoriously stubborn.

A few days ago, it snowed. A lot.  However, at the beginning of the month when we were having a serious thaw and the thermometers hit 50, I shed my winter coat and boots with a sigh and vowed not to wear them again until at least October.  On the day of the snowfall I had woken up, excited to wear my new orange flats and a skirt.  Think my plans were deterred by a bit of snow and 7 degree temps?  Hell no!  I’m a Michigander.  When I declare winter is over, it’s over, whether or not the weather agrees to co-opperate.

I’m not alone in this.  For the past few weeks I’ve seen people out in shorts and tank tops with scarcely a winter coat in sight.  All around me people are packing away winter clothes and turning off their heat. Yesterday in a cafe the woman at the next table proudly announced, “I’m declaring it spring.  I’ve got my flip flops on and everything.”

Tomorrow I fully intend to wear sandals, whether it’s 55 degrees or negative 10.

Support Beams

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Last night I had a dream that my friends wouldn’t be my friends anymore.  I told them I really needed them and they just shrugged and disappeared.  I try not to read too much into dreams since the majority of mine are about dinosaurs who are about to eat me.  No doubt it’s all metaphorical but I’m always just happy to wake up and realize it wasn’t real.

On another note, I need to start a writing group.  There are some groups in town already but I’d like to have one that focuses on romance writing.  Then I don’t have to explain to every new person why I’m choosing to write romance, they’ll already be kindred spirits. Any suggestions?

Off the Grid, Just a Little

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I spent the weekend without wifi.  Is this even possible you ask?  Well I was house sitting and had forgotten to get the password.  Rather then be a pest, calling to ask for the wifi password, I decided to go without, thinking it might help me write.  Which it did, sort of.  What I really did was:

  • Checked my phone every ten minutes out of habit, even though nothing had refreshed.
  • Had the constant feeling I was missing something important.  What if my friends were getting together and talking about it on facebook?  And I missed the whole thing because I couldn’t log on?  What if they didn’t think to text or call me but instead decided I didn’t want to be friends with them any longer?
  • I tried logging on every seemingly open network.  They were all password protected at some point or another.  What happened to the days when one could easily mooch wifi because no one thought to have a password?  Now everyone watches their broadband, not wanting anything to slow up their Netflix streaming.
  • I felt bored and a bit listless.  I couldn’t research anything.  I couldn’t post blogs entries or check my email or look for job postings.  I couldn’t sell clothes online or tweet or put filters on Instagram photos.
  • I read more, wrote more, went to bed earlier, and didn’t watch terrible TV.  I felt a refreshing distance from the outside world for the first time in a long time.  My phone sat quietly.  I left it out on the balcony and forgot about its existence for a couple of hours.  I was ok.

What do you DO?

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There are these things where you go and do something for around 8 hours at a time and someone pays you.  We artists like to call them “day jobs” so as not to confuse the perpetual drudgery with our real work, the writing.

Sometimes, I hear, the day job doesn’t have to be drudgery.  It can be fun in and of its self.  It can be interesting and fulfilling and creative, just like the writing.  What? I shriek.  What dark magic is this?  Where have these horrid lies stemmed from?

I wonder if there is some truth behind this ludicrous nonsense.  Could there be a job out there that I would find interesting and fulfilling and creative AND they would pay me?  It seems like a quest worth pursuing.

Sometimes What You Need is a Kick in the Pants

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I’ve been working on this being-a-serious-writer thing for a few months now.  I tell everyone to leave me alone!  I have to get some serious writing done! (Serious meaning committed here.  I write comedy).  Only I haven’t actually been writing, apart from blog posts, journaling, and an occasional book review.  My novel languishes, the first chapter written to death and the rest in desolate neglect.

What I need is a kick in the pants.  Something to jump start this whole novel.  CPR for half finished books.  And, while zoning out on the internet (“working”) I found just that thing!  A writing convention.

Of course!  It’s so simple.  Every conference I go to leaves me rejuvenated, refreshed, and ready to churn out some pages.  Only this isn’t a two day conference near my hometown.  Oh no, this is the big time.  The Romantic Times Booklovers Convention in Dallas – almost a full week of workshops, parties, pitches, and more parties, some with costumes.

I gleefully took the first step and registered. Apparently I am super late and the main hotel is sold out and the backup hotel only had one option left but I am staying positive that it’ll all work out somehow!  My writing won’t know what hit it.

5 Reasons I Almost Stopped Writing This Blog

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Let’s face it, once the blog is up and running and you’ve spent a few giddy hours playing with font and rearranging photos, the excitement of the whole thing wears off and you’re faced with the prospect of now actually running a blog.  Thus this list:

5 Reasons I Almost Stopped Writing This Blog

1. I got bogged down trying to come up with post ideas that would be fun to write but that I wouldn’t mind my grandma reading.  Trying not to offend anyone, particularly dear grandma, is a fast track to writer’s block, the graveyard of the one-post blog.  To combat this I am giving myself permission to go all in and write what I want without apology.

2. Then I started going off on how, with so many zillions of blogs are out there, no one will want to read mine. Well this blog isn’t really about you, it’s about me.  I am writing it because I want to so who cares if no one reads it?  Eventually, of course, I would like some reader feedback but for now, I write for me and me alone.

3. Never think too closely about just who can read what you put online.  Or how many people can see what you write!  It takes a lot of courage and lady-balls to post real, honest content online for all to see.  This thought tornado is yet another path to crushing writer’s block and is being stamped out immediately.

4. What if I don’t have enough to say?  It is the paradox wherein I have all these things floating around in my head all day but, when I actually go down to write them, poof, they vanish.  This is not a new concept and there are number blog entries, articles, and books written on how to deal with this phenomenon.  Therefore, not a good reason not to write my blog.

5. Finally, time.  Thou fickle hearted mistress.  Time that seems to stretch on forever at breakfast but then has all but disappeared just after lunch.  Who has time to write a blog?  I have no comeback to this reason – it has been the cause of failure for all my other blogging attempts.  So I will post Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday when I remember and won’t when I forget!

Starts with a bang

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Instead of a lengthy welcome post wherein I explain who I am what I’m about and…whew, already bored.

Last night, in the moment before I fell asleep, I thought a snake was going to get into my room through my stove vent.  It conceivably could happen.  The vent leaves directly outside and sometimes I hear the rustling of creatures who get trapped in there.  I live mostly below ground so the event is at perfect height for some unsuspecting snake to slither in to hide from the rain or the neighbor’s dog.  Then there are these large holes in the vent its self, definitely large enough for a snake to get through.

The moment my sleepy brain put all these pieces together, I had the lights back on and was sitting straight up, staring at the vent.  That’s when I remembered I’d covered it with plastic for the winter.  So, if a snake was to get in, it couldn’t actually fall through the cracks and onto my stove until I removed said plastic.  Meaning I didn’t have to worry.  Yet.

The idea was comforting for about three minutes until I thought about how thin the plastic really was and how easily a snake could tear through it with it’s sharp, poisonous fangs…