It's not Thursday, and it's not a quiz, but here we go...

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Her Most Serene Highness Lady Illiah the Free of Much Madness upon Avon Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

or

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Venerable Lady Susan the Festive of Helions Bumpstead Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

How did I put off writing before the internet???

If it's Thursday, it must be random quiz day...

You Are Guinness

You know beer well, and you'll only drink the best beers in the world. Watered down beers disgust you, as do the people who drink them. When you drink, you tend to become a bit of a know it all - especially about subjects you don't know well. But your friends tolerate your drunken ways, because you introduce them to the best beers around.

What's Your Beer Personality?

You Are Eggnog

Rich, sweet, and probably a little drunk. Everyone who knows you tends to get a little fatter.

What Holiday Food Are You?

You Are Apple Pie

You're the perfect combo of comforting and traditional Those who like you crave security

What Kind of Pie Are You?

You Are 30% Left Brained, 70% Right Brained

The left side of your brain controls verbal ability, attention to detail, and reasoning. Left brained people are good at communication and persuading others. If you're left brained, you are likely good at math and logic. Your left brain prefers dogs, reading, and quiet. The right side of your brain is all about creativity and flexibility. Daring and intuitive, right brained people see the world in their unique way. If you're right brained, you likely have a talent for creative writing and art. Your right brain prefers day dreaming, philosophy, and sports.

Are You Right or Left Brained?

New Year, New Blog

I needed a wordpress id for something, so I thought I'd play with some new toys. Don't worry, the quizzes will all stay here!

My latest quiz...

You Are a Pundit Blogger!

Your blog is smart, insightful, and always a quality read. Truly appreciated by many, surpassed by only a few

What Kind of Blogger Are You?

It's random quiz day...

Sure, I could be wrapping Christmas gifts, baking cookies, or (gasp) writing, but that just means it's time for one of those blog quizzes. This fascinated me, because I'm not from anywhere near the great lakes, I'm from Texas via New Jersey. Guess the accent is from the half way point or something. That or I have too many friends from Wisconsin.

Go Packers.

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Inland North   You may think you speak "Standard English straight out of the dictionary" but when you step away from the Great Lakes you get asked annoying questions like "Are you from Wisconsin?" or "Are you from Chicago?" Chances are you call carbonated drinks "pop."
Philadelphia
The Northeast
The Midland
The South
Boston
The West
North Central
What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

The Fat Lady has sung her piece...

Nanowrimo is over. I managed to validate the 50K or so words at 1:34 am today, the 30th. Glad it's over and I must say that it some of the worst writing I have ever done. Maybe even the worst, although the one about the accounting trolls in the tee-shirt factory is really bad. I think there is some convention that a story shouldn't start by someone observing a growing pile of used facial tissues.

So, now that that's over, I can get back to work on the Venti Inquisitioner for real, as well as continue Queries are us and the editing of Purse Driven Life. And in my spare time, I'm going to take violin lessons. Many of the writers that I respect play piano. I can't do two things at once, so piano is out for me. So, sitting in my room right now is a brand new Eastman 4/4 violin. Rental. With a brand new bow that seems like it will never have enough rosin on it. I can almost play an E scale. Watch out London Philharmonic. Once I get the other half of the E scale, there's no stopping me.

New Feature..Writing tips

Yeppers, it's National Novel Writing Month and I can find more ways to procrastinate than you could shake a stick at.

This weekend's task? Install the writing tip of the day, from Terry Whalin, who is a generous soul who shares my respect and admiration for Eugene Peterson, writes a lot of books, etc. Surely he would have something helpful to say to me and others.

So, now I'll have it here. But remember, I didn't make these up.

Query Update

Six more little agent assistants will have the fun of opening packages from me. I only hope they are all in happy moods and have gotten plenty of Halloween Candy.

Oh, am I in the wrong business...

You Should Be a Film Writer

You don't just create compelling stories, you see them as clearly as a movie in your mind. You have a knack for details and dialogue. You can really make a character come to life. Chances are, you enjoy creating all types of stories. The joy is in the storytelling. And nothing would please you more than millions of people seeing your story on the big screen!

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

Something to watch when you should be writing....

We'll call it Random Acts of Flushing....

Cat has a toilet flushing obsession

Because this is America and Grand isn't Grande enough...

It is getting dangerously close to National Novel Writing Month, NaNoWriMo, and so I have be scheming, reading and researching to get ready to write a first draft in thirty days. I have having company come for Thanksgiving, so technically, I will be trying to get mostly done by the end of November 20th.

Anyway, it helps this year that instead of coming up with a totally original idea, I'm going to modernize a classic. The Brothers Karamazov. Now, David James Duncan did this and set his book in the 60's. But I believe that's one of the few out there, so I have a good chance.

If I make it based on Oil Barons from Midland, Texas, I'll be out of my element, and most likely sued for slander. So let's see, how about a mobile home manufacturer in a Navasota-like town? One of his sons may run for Governor of the great state of Texas.

And the title?

drumroll.....

The Venti Inquisitioner
Because Everything is Bigger in Texas

I am a Query-Aholic. Is there help?

I was reading an incredible book last night, Little Children by Tom Perrotta and for some reason, I got it in my little head that I should query the agent. Unfortunately, she only takes email queries. I sent it off at 9:15 this morning. The idea is how long the form rejection takes. It's just one of those little things I do to entertain myself on rainy days...

My record for a form rejection for an email query is about nine hours.
So here goes....

Still querying along...

For yet another week, two lucky agent assistants or interns will get the chance to try to convince their bosses that they can't live another day without representing me and my work. No, I'm really not that arrogant, but it's a good false attitude for today's victims, uh, selected agents. One is the type of person who really does represent books exactly (or as close as can be) like mine, but then she's this gorgeous society person who volunteer on all kinds of boards of groups (that I would totally support) and she golfs and runs. What would she do with a book like mine? I know, I'm not querying for a new best friend, it would be hard to beat the friends I have. But sometimes, you just have to wonder...

Eat your veggies....

Several months ago, I made the confession that personal trainers aren't supposed to make. I don't like drinking water. So I don't. Not the "tote your gallon jug of water" around amounts I was supposed to recommend. My theory, if you're thirsty, you might ought to drink something. Life's short, so may as well enjoy your beverages.

Lately, writing books I've been reading recommend reading poetry with the same evangelical zeal the Water People have. The same gusto as the Vegetable people. Famous writers write how they spend hours reading poetry, out loud, everyday.

Yeah? Bull.

I'm starting to think it's like the celebrities that are quoted in all the grocery store checkout line diet/fashion magazines. "Yeah, for lunch I have some broiled chicken and veggies."

Let's be honest here. The only people who eat vegetables are: Children (under compulsion), vegetarians (and not many of them! Peanut butter and cheese are not veggies.) skinny ashen vegans, and old people trying to regain their cholesterol levels of youth. Sure, everyone clains to, but I personally have never seen a grocery store out of vegetables. We had several hurricane scares last year. Couldn't buy bread, milk, or batteries. But the veggie aisle? Help yourself, plenty to go around. Face it, vegetables aren't sexy and twenty-somethings don't eat them.

Same for poetry. If poetry was something that sexy, that popular with the twenty-somethings, we'd know it. But every one talks about poetry, no one reads it!!

(Yes, they write it, to rid themselves of angst and all, but how often do you see someone with head deep into any book of poetry???)

Repeat. No one reads poetry. So I will no longer feel guilty for not reading it, nor pretending to.

If real people read poetry, then grocery store racks would be filled with poetry tabloids and celebrity rags would be "little journals."

Back to my coffee and the Stephen King Fiction Fest....

Oh, My, I'm a World Class Poet Now!!

Your poem, Selected by Noble House publishers, United Kingdom

I got an email from Noble House Publishing. Apparently, some editor read my internet published poetry, or maybe some work I published for International Poetry Library, something like that. Any way, here's what the editor had to say:


As you may know, Noble House is one of the world's foremost publishers of fiction and nonfiction works by new and established authors. Our poetry division in the U.K. has had the honour of publishing the poetry of more than 800 poets over the past twelve years.

Recently I had the pleasure of reading your poetry that you have had published in the United States. I was moved so much by your written words that I have selected you to honour with our most desired and prestigious Noble House 2006 Lapel Pin. This stunning pin, crafted with 24-karat gold, proudly displays your status as an elite member of Noble House Publishers and is something you should be very proud of. This accomplishment should not be taken lightly since only a few writers have received such a distinction in the past.

Not only does the honour of wearing the Noble House Lapel Pin bring such a high level of respect in the poetic community, it also was designed by one of the premiere artists in the U.K. Samantha Higgins has been in the business of crafting precious symbolic jewellery pieces for over twenty years and is very well-known in the area. Her meticulous craftsmanship is highlighted in every jewellery piece's elaborate, yet simplistic design, not to mention the exceptional detail. Samantha Higgins used this same care and precision when she created the Noble House Lapel Pin. This striking jewellery piece has the official Noble House emblem set with 24-karat gold. It is truly a masterpiece that honours your outstanding and well-deserved accomplishments.

And that's not all! The pin comes with a Certificate of Authenticity attesting to its Limited Edition status and is formally presented in a striking, dark brown "leather" display case. Just imagine the sense of gratification you will feel when others see this Limited Edition pin with 24-karat gold honouring your poetic accomplishments and acknowledge your poetic distinction. What an impressive way to show off your status as an elite member of Noble House Publishers!

To take advantage of this 'once-in-a-lifetime' honour, simply fill out the order form or click on the link below. I must ask for a nominal fee of $69.95 (£40.20) to cover the costs incurred with the shipping, handling, and insurance of the Noble House Lapel Pin. It is extremely important to me that it is delivered to you in the right manner with the utmost care.

Susan, I was extremely delighted with your work and feel you deserve this type of recognition. Many people write poetry for years and never obtain the level of artistry that is present in your work. You should be very proud of your accomplishment.

I look forward to seeing more of your work.

Sincerely,

Nigel Hillary
Publisher,
Poetry Division
Noble House U.K.



Now, the prized work?

Poet now I know it

I always wanted to be a poet
But the words just would not flow...it
Was starting to be a waste of time so it
Made me sure that I would blow it
My chance to be a real life poet
I distracted my body with tae-bo - it
Really didn't help you know...it
Only made me sore and slow..it
Didn't help the desire go...it
Made me feel the entire woe...it
Made me sure that I would blow it
My chance to be a real life poet
I found the ILB,folks who knew great poetry
They helped me write, they helped me see
I had no chance at comedy
Like tall grass wants you to mow it
And a weedy garden needs you to hoe it
A dead car wants you to tow it
I found the line , now I'll toe it
My chance to be a real life poet!


Uh, yeah. Today the Noble Medal. Tomorrow, the Nobel Prize.

The Word for the Day....PACE

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1) -
pace1  [peys] noun, verb, paced, pac‧ing.

–noun
1. a rate of movement, esp. in stepping, walking, etc.: to walk at a brisk pace of five miles an hour.
2. a rate of activity, progress, growth, performance, etc.; tempo.
3. any of various standard linear measures, representing the space naturally measured by the movement of the feet in walking: roughly 30 to 40 in. (75 cm to 1 m). Compare geometrical pace, military pace, Roman pace.
4. a single step: She took three paces in the direction of the door.
5. the distance covered in a step: Stand six paces inside the gates.
6. a manner of stepping; gait.
7. a gait of a horse or other animal in which the feet on the same side are lifted and put down together.
8. any of the gaits of a horse.
9. a raised step or platform.
–verb (used with object)
10. to set the pace for, as in racing.
11. to traverse or go over with steps: He paced the floor nervously.
12. to measure by paces.
13. to train to a certain pace; exercise in pacing: to pace a horse.
14. (of a horse) to run (a distance) at a pace: Hanover II paced a mile.
–verb (used without object)
15. to take slow, regular steps.
16. to walk up and down nervously, as to expend nervous energy.
17. (of a horse) to go at a pace.


Uh, yeah, pace and pacing. No, I'm not pacing up and down the room trying to get out the next few pages. Rather, I read through the first draft of the current novel I'm editing. Read straight through. I felt out of breath which is not a good thing for an introspective novel about a missionary questioning how she spent her life. Nope, it's not supposed to move at Thriller pace.

My running pace however, needs to move faster than thriller pace if I have any hope of Boston. Thank God for Tom Petty and "Running Down the Dream" which puts me just over 8 minute pace. Dog isn't so sure he likes that pace. But he's on the end of the leash that doesn't have the vote.

He might even be awake in time for his evening walk.

Maybe we should call it the Query Factory

The book, the World War II book that STILL doesn't have a title I love, is finally "done." That means except for fixing typos, I'm not making changes unless requested by someone with a checkbook pointed in my direction. There are five other first drafts sitting in my book closet and I really must move out of the forties.

The goal of two queries per week is working for me. Except that I hate email queries because they can get squashed so quickly. I mean, less than twelve hours for a form rejection? Oh well, not everyone likes the forties like I do. But my dilemna is that if the query is slapped back in less than ten hours, does it still count for the weekly quota, or should I send out another on Wednesday? Not today, I have a full schedule. Apparently, the natives here feel that there should be foods they enjoy in the pantry and fridge at all times. Have no idea where they got that idea.

And on the Eighth day, there was progress....

Things are going well at the Story Factory this month. We are currently on chapter 22 of the novel currently in revision, and the other eight are patiently waiting their turn. Ok, I say chapter twenty two, but who knows how many chapters there are going to be. I am almost in the middle. That much I know. And the September 15th deadline is looming large.

Of course, I am happily skipping over little things like laundry and house cleaning. Because nothing says "writer lives here" like muddy paw prints on the carpet and a washer full of sour clothing...

It's all about the tools...

And Ernest Hemingway used Dixon Ticonderoga Number 1 pencils. For those of you who never took drafting, that is the extra soft. Number 2 pencils are used to fill in all the little dots when you take standardized tests in non networked environments. Surely you remember the humble scantron. I believe my children will forget about scantrons and blue books before they graduate from college.

Anyway, the number one extra soft that Papa preferred was perfect for editing bacause it is thick and dark. Yet you can still erase things when you change your mind yet again.

I ordered four dozen number one pencils from Lasermonks and they arrived on Friday. Can you say Happy Campers live here?

IT'S ALMOST TIME!!

Sorry to shout, but it's almost time. Time to start thinking and plotting and daydreaming about a set of characters for the time-honored tradition of National Novel Writing Month. So far, I will be a Municipal Liaison again, mosttly because I really want a t-shirt this year. But the thing was a blast and there should be some cool ways to get more people involved this year. I may even send out the press release to some of the local papers. Publicity, what a concept.

So, I have my fountain pens and Dixon Ticonderoga's on order from lasermonks.com and I will be equipped to write huge quantities of really bad novel. Because that is what November is all about.

Turtle writing

"It takes an awful lot of time for me to write anything. I have
endless drafts, one after another; and I try out fifty,
seventy-five, or a hundred variations on a single line sometimes. I
work on the process of refining low-grade ore. I get maybe a couple
of nuggets of gold out of fifty tons of dirt. It is tough for me.
No, I am not inspired."
--James Dickey


See, I am not alone. I have been working on this one novel, oh, for about three years. Consistantly. Quite a few thinking about it before that. Thing is, the questions every one asks, "Is the book published? How's the book?" stop being nice after the first year or so. Because John Grisham can churn out three books and year, as can most romance novelists, the general, non-book writing population thinks that is the regular production level. And we laugh here at the storyfactory. Actually, Lego the dog laughs, I just want to cry and get the stinking thing done.

But it's a lot like baking bread. There are some things that cannot, in anyway be rushed. It has to proof, like yeasty dough. All you can do is make sure the conditions are right and let the little yeast critters do their thing. With books, you have to make the conditions right and then let the story do its thing. Otherwise it feels forced and fake. Madeleine L'Engle calls is serving the work. The story grows like yeast and you know when it's ready, when it is strong enough for you to work on it without killing it.

And then there are the huge rabbit trails you go on and get lost, and have to back track and rewrite and yeesh...



"I turn sentences around. That's my life. I write a sentence and
then I turn it around. Then I look at it and I turn it around
again. Then I have lunch. Then I come back in and write another
sentence. Then I have tea and turn the new sentence around. Then I
read the two sentences over and turn them both around. Then I lie
down on my sofa and think. Then I get up and throw them out and
start from the beginning."
--Philip Roth

And there's a day's work.

Slow and steady wins the race...

I have been editing a 550 page novel at the amazing rate of 20 pages per day. Okay, it was 20 pages the first day and then I planned to revise twenty pages each day after that. The best laid plans...

But the good news is, it's pre-season football season. There is nothing better than curling up on the sofa with a stack of pages and a Dixon Ticonderoga Number One, extra soft (like Papa Hemingway used to use). See, there's replays, so I don't have to watch the live stuff. And I can even fire up the laptop.

So hopefully, things will progress this week and I can be starting new work by September 15th. Or 21st, you know, new season, new book.

The What If department

What if the same folks who produce Ambien, also sell weight loss pills? Hmmm

Surreality shows....

While writing about a book in my Random Acts of Reading blog, I mentioned a fellow and a frequent occurence from eight grade. I actually included his name and the teacher's name. Couple days later, there was a comment from him, a big time California lawyer now. My surreal moment of the week. I think he must have had someone on his staff google his name once a week, can't think of another way for him to find my obscure readinng log. He remembered the book and the teacher, but not her favorite comment about him. His comment to me was "Geez, you have an amazing memory!"

I've been thinking about that, because I don't really have a great memory. But I remember junior high, more than high school and college. And not because of any chemical additives. I think the reason I remember junior high is because I wrote every day, and the reason I remember my junior high classmates is because I wrote about them. I do remember 4th grade pretty clearly as well. I read Harriet the Spy that year and kept a notebook about that year, a la Harriet. It did not go over well for me there, once people found the notebook. I solved that problem in Junior High by writing for "publication". I wrote a soap opera and my classmates were the characters. Every night, I would write two pages of dialogue and then call my best friend Maryanne and we would discuss the episode. She would make editorial suggestions and if I agreed, I would make changes. Then I would re write the thing, this time on a sandwich of carbon paper and notebook paper. I learned early to only bring one copy to school.

So what happened? In high school, there were "things" that had to be done, things that would lead to engineering degrees and law schools and grad degrees, etc. I followed along and did those things, even though I really had no intention of being any of those things. I always intended to be a writer. Somehow, my little twelve year old brain knew that to do that, I had to write every day and I did. In HS and the first two years of college, I didn't. And there was plenty to write about. So, did I just have more time and energy to write in Jr. High? Less time and energy dedicated to pretending to be something else? Jr. High kids have the amazing ability to totally be themselves and HS's do a good job of getting that out of them. Or at least me.

So I guess, like any good writer, I've spend a good chunk of years procrastinating.

"As a writer, I need an enormous amount of time alone. Writing is 90% procrastination: reading magazines, eating cereal out of the box, watching informercials. It's a matter of doing everything you can to avoid writing until it is about four in the morning and you reach the point where you have to write. Having anybody watching that or attempting to share it with me would be grisly."-- Paul Rudnick.

Exciting times at the Story Factory...

Last time I looked, our little site is getting very close to the thousandth visitor. I know, small numbers for some, but I am pretty pumped about getting into the four digit numbers.

Coming this fall at the story factory, two exciting new works of fiction will be in progress, along with a contest to find better titles for some existing, but badly titled works. The two new things have titles already, Tyranny of the Ordinary, otherwise known as TOTO and The Brothers Keen. Ideas and research for both books are coming in nicely and I'm honestly not sure which book with get written first, although I will make every attempt to save one of them for November and the annual insanity known as National Novel Writing Month, NaNoWriMo.

But the big question remains, which book comes first, the political book that will be fun, but a lot of research, or the other one, that will be more life based, at least life that I have been a bit more invovled in.

Shuttle Update...

Discovery undocked from the space station. They're checking for damage and getting set to come home tomorrow.

http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/main/index.html

Motivations...and finding God in Stephen King

Why do writers write? Because it isn't there.
Thomas Berger


After reading some writing quotes, it struck me. Most of the truly successful writers have industrial sized chips on their shoulders. And are quite proud to show them off. The novels I've been reading this summer, the ones that get under your skin and stay with you a few days, they're not written by nice people with a message of grace and love to spread to the world. Most of them are damd mad and not going to take it anymore.

The problem is, nice people don't get mad. That's what my mother taught me. Anger was the big no no. Don't feel it, and certainly don't express it, not in front of anyone, anyway. So I go and write a book and totally ignore that fact that the main character is so pissed at the world it colors everything she does. I ignore and therefore she ignores it, denies it, and the whole book ends up feeling like a lie. So the question of the book becomes, sure the command is Be angry, but sin not, but what happens when you don't listen to that sage advice. What happens when you get angry and sin your heart out, then go on a bit more? I'm starting to think that's the book. Because nice girls didn't get angry in the forties. They didn't live it out and take it out on strangers.

Which isn't the typical "female adventure story." But maybe it's a bit closer to the female experience, of the world falling apart at the seams and not being able to do a damn thing the fix it.

So it's all Stephen King's fault. I've been reading through his stuff, in mostly chronological order this summer. And something stands out. In the darkness of all his stories, the light is clear. There is good and evil and no doubt which side is which. Unlike real life. But light shines brighter in the dark. You really don't need a flashlight at twighlight, but it sure is necessary at one am on a moonless night. But more on that another time...


Rage is the only quality which has kept me, or anybody I have ever
studied, writing columns for newspapers.
-- Jimmy Breslin



What I have most wanted to do throughout the past ten years is to make political writing into an art. My starting point is always a feeling of partisanship, a sense of injustice. When I sit down to write a book, I do not say to myself, ‘I am going to produce a work of art’. I write it because there is some lie that I want to expose, some fact to which I want to draw attention, and my initial concern is to get a hearing. - George Orwell



I hated school. I don't trust anybody who looks back on the years from 14 to 18 with any enjoyment. If you liked being a teenager, there's something really wrong with you.
Stephen King


ps, I only liked school until I was 14. And I enjoyed college. But hs was the pits.

Fire on the Mountain

"Write while the heat is in you. The writer who postpones the
recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a
hole with. He cannot inflame the minds of his audience."
--Henry David Thoreau


There is probably the biggest problem I have had lately writing. Writing while the idea is still fresh and new. It gets sometimes to where by the time I get to writing somthing, it's already stale and old because I have reworked it mentally so many times that it isn't new enough to write anymore. Not sure that makes sense, but there it is. After six or seven mental playbacks, the scene isn't fun anymore. Writing, instead of a process of discovery, becomes a work of transcription. I think this is what Thoreau is talking about when he talks about heat. It's the flame consuming new fuel that is the heat of writing, not a picture of campfire hung on a wall. There is a certain life to a campfire compared to the dryness of processes central heat. And unfortunately, we're taught that the central heat is desirable.





"Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from
mediocre minds."
--Albert Einstein

And you should go see what's goin on with Discovery today...

http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/main/index.html

Space Junkie

I was not born a space junkie. It was a gift from my father, when I was about five years old and my father woke me up and made me watch Neil Armstrong walk on the moon. It was history, and gosh darn, Dad wouldn't let me miss it, inspite of the late hour and my mother's non-interest. We watched every space flight that was broadcast after that.

But the biggest gift to space junkies ever, is the internet. NASA TV live over the internet is much better than any ten minute coverage the networks can provide. Something about the ordinaryness of some fellow in the firing room getting up and walking to the coffee pot in the back of the room. It's the third time it's on this week and still exciting.

The two best things though, are the crew radio checks and the final "polling".
Crew radio checks occur after the crew is secured in the shuttle. The crew then has to check communications with the firing room, launch command and mission control in Houston. Then they are instructed to not touch the knobs except to adjust the volume for their own comfort. The thing is, the voices are so full of anticipation and excitment. It's the first flight for Lisa Nowak and Stephanie Wilson and they're voices aren't seasoned scientists, but little girls at Christmas. Same with the boys. They are even more pumped, especially those who've done it before. Apparently, there's nothing "Been there, done that" about space travel.

The final polling is when the launch director goes down the list and asks each area for go-no go. Even the voices of these engineers and specialists drip with excitement. These folks love what they do. I'm sure there are politics and personality problems, affairs, and all the other crap that comes with government work, but today, they are going to space. Everything else is so much crap.

On our trip to Flordia in 1976, my family and I were subjected the full propaganda machine about the space shuttle. We bought it and I still have a hard time believing there are folks out there that are not exciting about space travel and the space station. Our Florida trip in 2004, we went to the Cape again, this time the propaganda machine was focused on Mars. Know what? I'm with them. Let's go.

I don't think there's anything better than launching Discovery on the 4th of July. Except maybe launching the Mars trip on another 4th.

Things are not what they appear...

The email quote this morning was from W.S. Gilbert : Things are seldom what they seem, skim milk masquerades as cream.

Which naturally made me think of the lyrics to a song, "Things are not what they appear", but I could not for the life of me remember what movie the durn song came from. Finally, at 5 pm, I can stand it no longer. Google reveals all:

Things Are Not What They Appear
Radcliff:
Your royal highnesses, lords and ladies of the court, and our distinguished guests from the forests of the new world.

Performers:
Things are not what they appear
As tonight will make quite clear
But what is real will be revealed
I can feel the moment's near
Things are never what they seem
That will be this evening's theme
A music sites for your delight
Perhaps a few to make you scream

Radcliff:
You will be surprised to see whose disguise
Is the cleverest one of the lot
After our show the whole world will know
Who's pretending to be what they're not
If a jester's grin or a dancer's spin
Should be pleasing, please say, yea




Yep, the ever popular, Pocahontas II. What a thing to remember.

And to connect a Disney direct to DVD animated movie to the venerable Gilbert and Sullivan. I am ashamed. But, as the wise one said, Skim milk does masquerade as cream.

Vote for your favorite first line...

I'm experimenting with a new project, so if you have a few minutes, tell me which first line makes you want to keep reading, or makes you want to put a gun in your mouth.


1. Sometimes, you wake up one morning and realize that your life is just a rough sketch and you really need to start taking the time to color it in.

2. We are such caricatures sometimes, having the shape of a real life, but not actually the life itself.

3. They said it would be just a research facility. But I know better. Research is a corporate euphenism for "We have no idea what the f*** we're doing."

On writing

I have an addiction to writing books. Actually, not the How to books, not the better dialogue in three easy steps, or Formatting your manuscript type books. I like the ones by real writers, one's I've heard of. Stephen King's On Writing, David Morrell's Lesson's from a Lifetime of Writing, and Terry Brook's Sometimes the Magic Works.Sure, there are some other one's out there, but if I like the authors' books, I tend to like the advice better. I also note a lack of women on my list. Hmmm.

But I did find an interesting quote from Erica Jong of all people. A war quote, in her book, Writing for My Life.

Young people feel immortal. That's why old people can send them to war.

Ten things I learned this week....

1. Running 13 miles when the temperature is in the mid to high nineties is stupid.

2. The fellow who cuts my hair has wonderful book and movie recommendations. His reading list alone is worth the price of a hair cut.

3. I can never predict what time the mail carrier will come to my street and I never will be able to guarantee the mail will be in the box in time.

4. Watching golf on tv is a great sleep aid. Unless Phil Mickelson is melting down.

5. If you can't really use the name Sara Pride for a character because it's someone's real name, then the name Arianna Hubris will do just fine.

6. There's a t-shirt I'm trying to find. It says, "If I only have one day to live, take me to a swim meet. They last forever." I really want that shirt.

7. A really great blog for Screwtape letter fans: Beezleblog This guy is good.

8. I've personalized my browser so much, it's going to be a step down to upgrade. But I'm a whole version number behind and some sites don't work as well. Time to suck it up.

9. I really don't like vampire books. From experience now.

10.Long walks are still the best way to plot a book.

Oh, and a quiz! It's Bonus Day at the Story Factory!

Which OS are You?

Which Nigerian spammer are You?

Tyranny of the Ordinary

I've been a bit busy doing some things for the local school district GT parent committee. Which brings back my own memories of life in "g/t" programs in middle school and the first year of high school. Once I moved to Texas, apparently, I didn't require special "services" anymore. I just went to classes with the next grade up.

I like tyranny of the ordinary, for a title. Read a book, "Smart Girls" a while back about mentoring gifted girls and it was remarkable how many gifted women lead absolutely ordinary lifes. Not for lack of choice, but because of an overwhelming amount of choices, they simply drift into whatever takes the least amount of conflict. Which reminds me of the little "sessions" they used to make us go to in ninth grade, in the couselors office. I can remember a few names, Sarah P., Maryann N., Barry E, Steven S, Shari, John, Craig? Elise was gone to Nigeria by then.

But the main thing was the repetition, we could be anything, do anything. Cream of the crop, etc. Yet now, thirty years later, I can't even google any of them. Are they doing anything, being anything? Could they be doing something significant and yet have absolutely no web presence? I know Maryann dropped out of high school her senior year to mary some sailor.

So now, I wonder what happened. And the only way to wonder is to write about it, naturally. So Tyranny of the Ordinary. Kind of a Now and Then kind of thing, except the preciptating event won't be a school reunion or a wedding/funeral. It'll be the purchase of land by a petrochemical company. Now off to work...

Been a bit busy...

Things have been a bit crazy with the end of school coming up next week. Feel free to drop by Crafty Peaches, Live in Concertif you can't live without reading my whining...

Aloha! The Quiz junky finds a new site!!

You're Hawaii!

When they first meet you, few people can tell whether you want to say
hello or goodbye. Either way, most of them will end up saying that you're their favorite
person to visit, if only they could afford the trip. But your soft and warm image is
belied by an explosive undercurrent in your personality than can leave you drenched with
tears or boiling with anger for days on end. You are rather fond of using plants as
clothing.


Take the State Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

You're the College of William and Mary!

There are people who are known for living in the past, but
you make them all seem like futurists. Heck, you even make the Amish seem
futuristic. While you're busy with the past in your mind, you're also
careful to save a little room for work and, even more recently, some time
for amusement parks. Though you seem to be quite a private person, you
actually like publicity. You weren't the first person in your family with
your name.


Take the University Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

You're an Owl!

Old and wise, you have a thirst for knowledge and a reputation for
making the right decision. This can be a lot of pressure sometimes, but you seem
so relaxed and unruffled that it never seems to show. You always keep your eyes
wide open and fixed on your next objective, or on the Harry Potter books, which
you love. The only question you ever ask is "Who?"


Take the Animal Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Yep, and I really ought to be writing now...

Coming soon, the Lazy Days of Summer...

Progress isn't made by early risers. It's made by lazy men trying to
find easier ways to do something.
-- Robert Heinlein, Time Enough For Love

So I get up early in the morning not to make progress, but so I can justify going to bed early in the evenings and taking naps. The only progress I can say I've made is several really good ideas. Met with someone yesterday and played with the idea of doing a non-fiction project together. Based on Deuteronomy. Which if you say it fast sounds like it too could be a Russian novel. It's the book Jesus quoted more than any other, so there is definitely something there.

Maybe it's a form of spring fever. I'm not finishing the things I'm supposed to be finishing because it's not harvest time. It's planting time outside here in North America (I toss that in for my reader in New Zealand) and things are sprouting all around, so why not let the season dictate and let new ideas sprout up inside as well? I have all summer to bring other things to fruitition. But to let these little idea seedlings have enough mental soil to germinate, to show a little green above the surface. My son is studying some of this stuff in school this month and we have talks about it as we walk to school past the wild flowers and the grass leaving it's winter dormancy behind. We walk and talk, then sneeze, since we're both massively allergic to spring and its pollens.


But the ideas are resting, they are taking in the outside sources I'm feeding them and I have no idea what is going to come out of them,if anything. But there is definitely some good idea work going on. And there never has been a cure for spring fever.

Move over, Dr. Atkins.

Ideas for the next two projects are flying fast and furious. Here is one that is sure be included in the political satire. And did I mention that this is a hard time to be a political satirist, since real life is stealing all the good punchlines?



A friend of mine was told that he thinks so much, he probably burns calories and that's why he is so trim. As we talked about the ridiculousness of the comment, it occured to us, we could solve two of America's biggest challenges with one plan.

The thinking diet.

Fixing both obesity and stupidity. Multitasking, if you will, the American way. I can already see my diet guru, a tall skinny fellow with fluffy blond hair and a George Hamilton tan. Couple of face lifts. He creates an entire collection of DVD's with his thinking man's diet. Of course, he isn't really smart enough to think for himself, so he enlists the help of a local professor of anthropology. The prof gives the dvd's actual content, so as the dvd's fly off the shelves, the consumers are being instructed to actually use previously untapped mental abilities and apply them to current events. Which naturally leads to a revolt against the First Thinker/Decider.

pondering on...

It's not a good week to be brain dead...

Not that there is ever a good week to be brain dead. But some weeks are better than others. This is not one of them. Besides getting ready for a garage sale and all the fun associated with that, permits, ads, pricing and what not, I have a school presentation on Wednesday, dentist on Thursday, a book that needs to be set up for a printer, and the beginnings of a newsletter. I had one thing scheduled for Monday.

I'm 0-fer. Yep, one thing scheduled one thing missed. Because I have some great new characters in my pea brain and they're being awfully greedy with my time. This, while being good, is not really good, because I'm not sure what use these characters are yet. Time will tell. But they are demanding and this is not good. Because I have, you know, stuff.

Anyway, I'm starting to wonder if anyone will pay for my manuscripts at the garage sale...

Ouch...

A satirist is a man who discovers unpleasant things about himself and
then says them about other people.
-- Peter McArthur


Of course, I'm not a satirist, nor do I play one on television. But if the offer came up, I wouldn't pass it up. Maybe I should call myself a sarcastist. Not a word, but others have made up words, so why not.

A televsion ad for some home improvement store said that if I buy their products, I wouldn't have to be a great gardener to have a great garden. Wouldn't that be cool if it worked for writing? You don't have to be a great writer to write a great book. Just sprinkle wordweed and plot feed on, and all those pesky adjectives and adverbs will shrivel up and die, while your plot grows strong and your characters robust. Although, I guess that robust characters would almost guarantee a strong plot, just by force of their personalities. That's the hope anyway. Then you add water, and poof. Don't need to be a great writer. Hmmm, sounds a bit formulaic... But wouldn't be great if you could get it at the Writers' Store with the rest of the things that are guaranteed to help you sell your next book.

Yeah, just ordered two boxes of wordweed&feed, along with a case of talent. UPS should deliver it next Tuesday, along with the cereal we're supposed to be sampling for a consumer survey...



When you feel in your gut what you are and then dynamically pursue it -
don't back down and don't give up - then you're going to mystify a lot
of folks.
-- Bob Dylan

Haven't had a good quiz in a while...

You Are an Espresso

At your best, you are: straight shooting, ambitious, and energetic At your worst, you are: anxious and high strung You drink coffee when: anytime you're not sleeping Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

You really can't make this stuff up...

But there's no law against using it to it's fullest advantage...

"I hear the voices, and I read the front page, and I know the speculation. But I'm the decider, and I decide what is best. And what's best is for Don Rumsfeld to remain as the secretary of defense."

Read all about it here: CNN

or if you prefer...Fox News where "deciding" isn't a headline...

Leadership from the Father Knows Best generation...trying to lead the Simpson generation, the irony itself is a hoot.

(furiously taking notes...)



And this morning, it was announced we were getting a new A New Explainer on the Horizon

Maybe we should put a camera in the van...

If I wasn't so completely adverse to reality shows (the unreal kind), I would call some big shot tv producer and tell him about the 5 Alabama drama queens. It would be fitting for Fox or the WB and think about those Southern ratings. But, then what would my book be about?

There are two kinds of reality tv. The Real kind, like football, baseball and other sports (golf is included, although that's another topic) and the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. Real people doing real things, within a confined set of rules and/or behaviors.

Then there's the unreal kind. Like Survivor, Big Brother, and the newest, God or the Girl, about four seminarians studying for the priesthood. These are "real" people, chosen not for their talents but for their personalities and their amazing abilities to make poor decisions and not care. In fact, they celebrate bad choices as if there is some secret signing bonus for every one (Gee, the contract says I get an extra thousand if my bikini top should accidently fall off on camera). Maybe there is. It wouldn't surprise me. Athletes get bonuses for extraordinary play, why not reality show participants? If there is a union, I think they should bargain for that.

I don't ususally watch these kinds of things, but a lot of my favorite people do. I think I'm more fascinated with the why than the what. Is it the boldness, the act of being able to shed aside inibitions and get paid for it that is so attractive? The funny thing is, if there are such self centered people in our real lives, we go through extreme lengths to avoid them, yet there they are on tv for an hour a week and we're there watching. Does the act of being broadcast as a "shared experience" somehow validate the self centered? What on earth posesses people to want to put themselves out there like that, especially for the shows that have no real "reward" (ie, American Idol and Survivor have a tangible reward at the end of the show. Shalom in the Home is simply having your therapy session in the town square).

I guess the thing that really bothers me is that television and internet are starting to eerily resemble the world of Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood. Not a good thing.

Summer Reading, coming soon.

Where is human nature so weak as in the bookstore?
-- Henry Ward Beecher


Half Price books had a special this week, if you buy thirty dollars worth of books, you get a nifty, huge, totebag in lovely spring colors like purple, green and bright light blue. Naturally, I found that the Easter Bunny really needed to do some shopping there and amazingly, mananged to spent thirty dollars.

Unfortunately, that translates to I have an even higher stack of "to be read" books. On top of the list, that is always growing. The one thing I am glad of is that swim team practice starts in earnest next week. I'm thinking that I'll have an hour and a half each day at the pool to catch up on the reading list. That seems to be a better use of time than trying to squeeze errands in, with traffic in that area at 6 pm being what it is. Nothing like reading at the pool.

Except reading on your very own nifty back patio.

The People on the Bus

You know the drill. Last chapters.


Trip Leaders I Have Known

"Just shut up and ride the bus!!" - Larry Guillioma, Band director and veteran trip leader

Trip leaders are a fascinating breed of folks known by their distinctive call:
GET ON THE BUS!! WE'RE LEAVING NOW AND WE ARE WAITING FOR YOU!!!

For fun, they look at maps and walk up and down bus aisles counting people. From a distance, the trip leader can be identified by his instinctive briefcase. First time trip leaders may simply carry a clipboard or a stack of papers, but after watching the paperwork blow out of the window at 85mph and paying the $200 littering fine, he will invest in a geek box.

Once upon a time, the trip leadwer was a real live himan being. He ate, slept, and used the restroom like any other Homo Sapien. But years of travel, millions of miles, gas stations, and Big Mac's have changed a respectible looking man into a dishelveled derelict with bus-hair and mis-matched shoes. Obviously, authority spoken here.

There are two basic types of trip leaders. We'll call them Roadtrip Ralph and Sergeant Sam.

Roadtrip Ralph is just a fun guy. His theory is that getting there is 3/4's of the fun, so let's make in a party. He allows three hour meal/shopping stops and encourages everyone to make the most of every opportunity, including stops at traffice signals. He orders the driver to stop at every museum and historical marker to expand the minds of his charges. And, of course, he's done his homework and can recite the history of every object passed. Although it may take two days to leave town, Ralph's trips are exciting and educational.

Sergeant Sam, however, believes that everyone should have been there yesterday. He is concerned with time and clocks and mileage, often timing a gas stop to the tenth of a tank. Call him efficient. And if Sam is on a trip where Ralph is the trip leader, call him a travel agent. Get Sam there by plane or he'll never survive the first rest stop.


People on the Bus

"The people on the bus go up and down
up and down
up and down
the people on the bus go up and down, all through the town" - Ancient bus rider chant and first grade sing along.

You climb onto the Highway Hilton, crawl over several thousand bodies, some twice, and finally spot the prize: an empty seat. But look! Someone else has depostited his/her paraphenalia on the adjoining seat. Who could it be? Let's look at the possibilities....

Jammin Jeremy: The music expert. Of course, you'll be sharing space with $500 worth of portable stereo equipment. You'll have to split the battery costs as well, after all, you're listening too.

Marvin, the Musical Mouth: He knows every word to every song ever written. He'll demonstrate his knowledge by singing every song at a volume competitive with the jam boxes.

Trying Tracy: Every 15 minutes, this peacemaker will scream "Will everyone PLEASE SHUT UP!"

Betty Braid: Entertains herself by creating new and bizarre hair styles for everyone on the bus. Now her best friend is...

Mary Makeover: To complete your facial furnishings.

Carla Carsic: Comes with Dramamine and her own supply of clear plastic bags.

Rachel Restroom: Makes the most of every opportunity.

Larry Laugh: Owner of the worst guffaw you've ever heard, he'll laugh for 28 hours straight.

Terrorist Ted: Wanted in 8 states for 123 counts of bear molesting. Liable to distrss any stuffed object.

Sleepy Steve: He will only wake up to remove the black jelly beans and other various and sundry things placed in his gaping drooling mouth.

Matt Map: Know 24 quicker ways to get there.

Screeching Sally: doesn't her name say it all??




2006 note:

First off, I realize that of course women can be trip leaders. They grow up to be soccer moms. But female trip leaders just aren't as funny, since herding cats requires more estrogen than testosterone.

This was before the days of Walkmen and IPods, of course. Now $500 worth of stereo equipment fits in your shirt pocket and everyone on the bus has one along with ear buds. Which is sad, really, because part of the shared experience was listening to the same insipid music the entire trip and then when you hear it in Walmart twenty years later, all the memories come rushing back like a wave a shoppers heading for the only open checkout stand. But I digress....

I really don't make this stuff up...who could?

Basic Bus Hair, part 5. You know the drill. Standard disclaimers, blah, blah, blah.

Terminal Layovers

"Don't get too comfortable. We'll only be here 15 minutes." - Seymour Houston at the beginning of a seven hour layover at the Houston Trailways Terminal

Sometimes, a long journey may begin in the faithful clubwagon, but along the way, it is exchange for the Hilton of the Highways, the charter bus. Not onely does this road resort hold forty people more comfortably than its primitive little cousin, but it has other advantages. For speed, greater variety of sleeping positions, and facilities for those with small bladders, Go Big Red, or fly.

These luxuries, however, do not come without sacrifice. In oder to board the mighty machine, one must go to the bus terminal and wait for the bus. They call it a terminal for a reason. The wait may be 5 minutes (possible, not probable), an hour (Are we having fun yet?) or ten hours (We're having BIG FUN now!)

The bus terminal doesn't have to be a terminal bore. It can be an enjoyable, entertaining, and yes, even educational place, if imaginative minds are planning the activities. Below are some suggestions for passing the time at the terminal. Expand on them, or try some of your own. JUST-
-BE CREATIVE
-BE DARING
-BE SURE TO BRING BAIL MONEY

To Avoid:

1. Some bus terminals have TV sets available. Try to avoid them. You can watch tv at home.
2. Don't even think of trying to read the "things you brought along." Save them for the bus.
3. Try not to spend all your time with teh people in your group. You'll see them later and there are a lot of people at the bus station you'll never see anywhere else.


Fun Activities:

1. Get a bus schedule and plan some alternative trips. Be srue to ask the clerk abotu ticket costs, departure times, etc. Ignore the printed schedule she gives you, it's probably wrong, but wave it around anyway. For extra fun, order tickets, pay for them, then change your mind and demand your money back. Get the trip leader involve. Repeat once per hour.

2. Drug Deal Bingo. Make a bingo card featuring the names of illegal substances. For every deal witnessed, mark the appopriate box. First person to fill the card wins. For extra fun, instead of marking the box, tape a sample of the substance. This may involve purchasing the products, but don't use your bail money!!

3. Take surveys. Use a clipboard. Be sincere. Ask intensely personal questions. Laugh later.

5. Buy food from the vending machines to sell later at a profit to AF sufferers. If you are afflicted, now's the time to hoard.


The Battle of the Box

"Turn that thing down!" - Jay Linn, after the 52nd reptitition of "The Fat Boys are
Back."

In this corner, weighing in at 10 pounds, the challenger, the Power Panasonic, featuring Prince and the Revolution. In the opposite corner, weighing 12 1/2 pounds, the current champion, the Gregarious GE featuring David Lee Roth.

Gentlemen (?) Start your jamming!

Congratulations. You have jsut become the referee of the battle of the box. Actually, it's an easy job. Since you can't stop the fight, all you must do is enforce the Rules of Fair Fighting.

The Rules of Fair Fighting:

1. Each boom box must have a self contained power supply. Plugging into the cigarette lighters or Bus PA system is automatic forfeiture.
2. No amplifiers of any kind.
3. No piggy backing more speakers.
4. Any music which causes the vehicle to move without the engine running is illiegal.
5. The winner will receive a set of headphone. The loser will supple Extra Strength Tylenol to all bus passengers.

Disciplinary action for rule offenders.

Any person guilty of stereo offenses will sit in the bus restroom for one hour while subjected to high volumes of Barry Manilow.



The James Taylor Syndrome.

"Play it again, Sam."

The James Taylor Syndrome is a mind crippling condition which tends to occur at hight altitudes and/or long trips. The cause of this condition is the repeated playing of a cassette tape. It is named for JT because his albums are quickly and powerfully addicting. The symptoms of JTS are visible soon after the 6th repetition of the tape.
1. Mental breakdown
2. Severe silliness
3. Music trivia becomes the only acceptable topic of conversation
4. Can repeat all lyrics of all songs on the tape. In listed order.
5. Chant's "Let's play it again" during any period of silence.

If any of these symptoms occur, administer large doses of K-Tel's Greatest Hits, followed by intrumental music. and see a musician as soon a possible.



Tomorrow, our last installment....The People on the Bus.

On the Road...part four

Standard Disclaimers still apply...don't try this at home kids!

Food for thought

"When do we eat?" - Bill Usry, 1986 Camper of the year.

One frightening and dangerous phinomena which occurs on long van journeys is a condition known to the medical community as Africaneese Foodstoposis (AF). Each year AF cripples thousands of young Americans both physically and psychologically.

The symptons may show up before the tirp even begins, as those suseptible begin to stockpile food, drinks and other edibles in their carry-on luggage. They then gather into clusters, comparing and discussing foodstuffs, storage methods, nutritional values and which of the four food groups are represented in their van (the grease group, the chocolate group, the sugar group and the straight additive/preservative group.)

Several hours into the trip, those inflicted begin to dive into their stores and gorge themselves. They dig in with both hands - a crazed look in their eyes. When all the edibles are gone, the begin to chant "When do we eat?" repeatedly until the vehicle stops. At this stop, they replenish supplies and the cycle continutes.

Apparently, the infliction causes severe hallucinations and delusions. Especially common it the delusion that one is a starving Ethiopean, trapped in a van which is traveling from on land of famine to another through a land of plenty without stopping. There is also an unrealistic fear of anorexia, where victims eat voraciously while screaming, "I AM NOT Anorexic."

AF does not appear to be fatal and seems to go into remission at the end of a trip.

Preventative measures include a well-stocked ice-chest and a public posting of meal stop times. It is highly contagious and anyone under thirty is susceptible, so when it appears, be prepared to stop. Or try traveling with senior citizens.


The McMENU

"Thank you and come again." - Kelly McDonally, Raton, New Mexico, McDonald's Employee of the year, 1985

This is the typical menu of a "leaved from the McDonald's parking lot at 9am and get to Colorado by dinner tomorrow" trip.

Breakfast
1 Egg McMuffin
large coke
french fries
2 donuts

One Hour after departure
brownies from home
chips
cold Mountain Dew

At Rest Stop
Snickers Bar
root beer
Charms' Blo-pop
bubble gum

Lunch
Big Mac
French Fries
Coke
Apple Pie
Hot fudge sundae, to take on the bus

On bus
smashed brownies
cookies form someone on the other bus
warm Mountain Dew

Rest Stop
Popcorn
ice cream
root beer
Skittles

Dinner
Salad Bar
Water (hey, we're counting calories)

Back on the Bus
3 Muskateers bar
hot Mountain Dew
Stale chips
Brownie crumbs
Cracker Jacks

Breakfast the next day
danish*
sausage*
coke
Pepto Bismol
*one bite of each

Lunch
14 slices of Pizza
coke.


(Tomorrow - the last day of our little series, Entertainment on the Bus)

Basic Bus Hair, part three

Standard disclaimers still apply...


The Caravan

"Follow Me." - Jesus Christ

In our continued efforts to be remade in the image of our Lord, we too have taken up the call, "Follow me." We shout it from the window as we depart from the parking lot of the McDonald's on Southwest Parkway and a train of 25 assorted vehicles bravely follow. Mothers yank their small childern from the streets; motorists turn to alternate routes. They know we are coming and they flee in fear.

Fear... It's in the eyes of on-coming traffic...it's in the hearts of those trying to pass...it's on the faces of the McDonald's employees as they watch 26 cars empty out...125 hungry people pouring into the dining room...125 people waving dollar bills and shouting "I'm McNext!!"

The secret to successul caravanning is simply ignorance. If someone besides the lead driver has any clue as to the destination, order control, indeed all is lost in the search for a shorter way, one dotted with Pizza Huts instead of McDonald's. By keeping everyone in total ignorance, one cannot help but follow the first vehicle or risk being lost forever in the vast Texas wastelands.

Remember our YL motto:
Ignorance is not only bliss - It's downright more efficient.



More on Caravans

"Fer shur, I'm driving!" - Vicki Haddad, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision while being reminded that she was the one behind the wheel.

The secret of safe caravan driving is to follow these simple rules of Safe Caravan Driving"

1. Follow the car ahead of you using the 3 second rule. Consult your driver's manual or the Shell Answer Man)

2. Trade tapes at rest stops, not at 75 m.p.h. on a two-lane highway.

3. Rule 2 also applies to passengers.

4. In the United States, the lane preferred by most drivers is the right hand lane. This preference is supported by the law. Since freedom of choice is somewhat restricted in this matter by the Constitution, wait until the next Constitional Congress to express your individualism.

5. Remember our YL mottoes:
a. Litter first
b. Safey bugs me

The secret of fun, exciting, risky caravanning is to ignore the above rules. Obviously, some conflicts will arise when some members of the caravan insist on safe caravanning while others opt for the more death-defying method. Ideally, the group will be unanimous, or the majority holds the car keys.


Tomorrow: Food for Thought.

Basic Bus Hair, part 2

(Just a reminder folks, this was written in 1986. Before the internet had pictures. Kind of like PC's before windows. Unix people lived in a linear world.)


Ok, now the standard disclaimer. The following information is provided ONLY for entertainment purposes. Some instructions are highly illegal and will get you a Darwin Award faster than you can say, "Oh, I wasn't really supposed to DO this?"

Keep the Driver Happy

"FIFTEEN MINUTES!" - vetern van driver S.Scott Travis, in response to the question, "When are we going to get there?"

Hi boys and girls! Today we're going to learn about van drivers. Van drivers are those insane saints who volunteer to drive us fun places like Colorado (fun), the Snook school, (fun, fun) and Houston at 5pm (we're having big fun now!!)

Since these people are already operating with fewer than normal brainwaves, it is very important that we do our part to help them keep the van on the road, or relatively close to it. Here are some rules for van riders.

Some rules are easy. We call these rules Common Courtesy.

1. Close all doors before the van enters the highway.
2. Talk to the driver every 20 minutes. Check pulse, blood pressure and respiration rate. If any of these are more than 50% above/below normal, it may be time to change drivers.
3. Resist the urge to offer creative ideas for shortcuts.

Some rules require more self-discipline. We call these rules "only in your dreams"

1. Refrain from asking the driver every 5 minutes questions like: When will we get tehre? When do we eat? When is the next reststop? Wailt at LEAST 7.5 minutes between questtions.
2. Do not remind the driver of the current speed laws every time the needle accidently creeps over 55mph. He can read.


Parts of the Van

"THERE'S NO SPARE TIRE!!" - Jimmy Waller, Tunis, Texas, Halloween 1985

Windshield: (Ideally) A clear glass plate, allwoing the driver to look out ot the van while still protected from the elements. (Realistically) An opague, brown thing needing to be swept clear of bugs every thirty minutes.

Jack: A large metal contraption which wanders freely through the van, crushing food items and luggage. When needed for it's designated purpose, it burrows beneath the heaviest piece of luggage.

Spare Tire: 1. Removed to make more room for luggage.
2. stored on the outside of the van door, from where, upon sighting an old tire on the highway shoulder, it jumps off and rolls to the side of its soul mate.

Tires: 4 black objects, worn by the van. Hopefully all four are inflated to manufacturer's specifications. It is helpful if all 4 maintain contact with the road surface at all times.

Steering Wheel: Holds driver in place. May also be used to direct the vehicle in teh desired direction, or at least the general vicinity.

Heater/A.C: Climate control, operated by the navigator, who decides the temperature of the day. There is no comfortable, only too hot or too cold.

Stereo: A gift from the YL committee. Pull the fuse and pretend it's broken.


Packing the Van

"Honest, Wayne, we only had 15 people, max!" - Any Snook YL leader, after the blowout.

YL features the Ford Club Wagon as our favorite 15 passenger vehicle. Why? Naturally, because although there are seatbelts for 15, there is space for 31, if packed by a professional. You too can pack like a pro. Here's how:

Begin by seating large people in the rear seat. Try to get four or better, five, use shoe horns and lubricant, such as potato chip grease or sheen to glide them into place. These folks now effectively form seating for four more people. (Check the A/C rear units.) Repeat this procedure with the remaining bench seats.

Two people will occupy the front passenger seat, within the seatbelt. One small person is folded and placed within the space between teh front passenger seat and the glove compartment. Another fits conveniently between the two front bucket seats. Two more fit on the running board and one lucky soul occupies the driver's throne.

Congratulations! If you have done the above correctly, you have converted a 15 passenger vehicle to a 31 passenger vehicle.

WARNING:

Do not attempt this if:

You are traveling to Colorado or any other long distance.
Tires cannot pass the Lincoln Penny Test
A YL Area Director will be traveling with you.

Just shut up and get on the van...

In honor of my newest project, I am actually digging up something I wrote about twenty years ago. Basic Bus Hair was written and Kinko-ed to be a Christmas present for the folks I did Young Life with while going to college. I was a "rural" YL leader, which meant visiting the high school and going to YL club involved at least twenty to thirty minutes of highway driving, on the Highway of Death, as we call it now, a stretch of highway that cannot be widened because it's the habitat of some bizarre, bloom-every-fifty-years-for-an-hour, wild flower. Of course, maybe if we did destroy its habitat, we'd find out that it is the only thing keeping Global Warming from accelerating, but that, my friends, is a topic for another book.

Point is, a lot of the stuff I wrote for Bus Hair, may come in handy for the new van thing, so I need to type it anyway, may as well type it here. Because twenty years ago, it was typed on a blue Royal portable. A Christmas gift from my parents.

So without further deviation, Basic Bus Hair - A Guide for the Ride, by A. Vanna Ryder.

Basic Bus Hair - An Introduction

"Only your hairdresser will know for sure." Miss Clairol, 1967

Bus Hair. It's not a big issue these days. Everyone is talking about the impact of busing on the lives of children, but no one dares to talk about the effect that buses have on hair. It is a nasty, nappy business, one hairdressers won't talk about; one most writers get squeamish about. Since I cut my own hair, have an A in my creative writing class, and have traveled extensively on the Big Dog, I consider myself a leading expert on the touchy, or untouchable topic of Bus Hair. Well, at least the only person I know that has spent more than five minutes thinking about it.

And so I submit to you, a handbook on bus hair. Where to get it. How to get rid of it. How to enhance it. but this handbook will only mention bus hair once:

Bus hair is the affliction which causes your dirty, greasy hair to stand on end after being on a bus. The amount of time spent on the bus matters not. The only prevention: Don't get on the bus. The only cure: Shampoo. In Between: Invest in a hat.

Chapter One: Changing Drivers

"I'm not tired. I can go another 500 miles." Van Driver, 3:51 am. The accident occurred at 4:17 am.

Sometimes, drivers get restless. They are called exhausted drivers. Exhausted drivers are bad drivers. They weave, they change lanes without looking. They sleep, they crash. Boo!!

Fresh drivers are Happy Drivers. Happy Drivers are alert. Happy Drivers are aware. Happy drivers are generally more fun to be around and a heck of a lot safer. YEA!!

Sometimes, a tired, used up driver must be replaced by a fresh driver. Fresh drivers may be found in a variety of places. They mat be sleeping in the back of the van. The may be riding on another van in the caravan. Perhaps one can be found hitchhiking along the highway. In a crisis, any will do.

Guidelines for new drivers:

1. Never change drivers in a moving vehicle, unless directed to do so by the trail boss.

2. Choose replacement drivers carefully. Preferably those with:
a. current drivers license.
b. defensive driver's card, or the Sears Safe Driver Card (free to anyone 5 or older at any participating Sears Store) (**2006 note. This certification is now available on the internet and any fine On Line driving school or university)
c. Small Seeing Eye dog, since up front space is limited.

3. It may also be necessary to replace the navigator. The navigator is the peron who occupies the front passenger seat. His job includes climate control, music selection and volume, communication with other vehicles via CB radio (2006 note, cell phones, now) and, most importantly, to announce loudly, "YOU MISSED THE EXIT!!" at the appropriate time.


More exciting adventures tomorrow, when we will learn about Keeping the Driver Happy and the Parts of the Van.

If you're reading this, you won't be "in the van"

Try to learn something about everything and everything about something.
-- Thomas H. Huxley

Everyone needs a friend like my friend Lynn. You have to be in shape for it, of course. Actual real life conversation:

L: I need to to 20 Tuesday. I'll do five in the morning and then meet you for 15.
(we run long distance every Tuesday, for marathons. Told you being in shape was a requirement)

Me: (not wanting to look like a wimp) Nah, come right over. I can do 20.

I mapped out the run on mapmyrun.com and about mile four into the run, I broke the news to her that what we were running would be a little more than 20, maybe closer to 21. Around mile 14, I came clean and told her it was a little more than 23. Did I mention the temperature was getting up to 87?

Point is, every writer needs a friend like Lynn, not because she drives you to unfathomable physical feats, but because she's is interested in everything. She asks great questions and wants to really learn about anything. Grass growing to the local murder on page one, to the Space Station. We don't always know answers, but we spend the four or five hours we run talking about a million subjects. Never a dull moment.

Even better, she's read some of my really sucky manuscripts and she's still my friend. (Although, she's learned not to ask to read things anymore. See, I told you she's smart.)

But yesterday, we spent a good deal of our time "populating the minivan." The minivan, most likely a KIA because it is funnier than a Chrysler and easier to type over and over, is the setting for a book I'm starting to pre-write. Lynn knows a few characters who belong in the minivan touring Alabama. And we have a new phrase for folks who get on our bad side...

Yeah, that person belongs "in the van."

If you can't annoy somebody with what you write...

I think there's little point in writing. ~ Kingsley Amis

And some days, I think the only person I annoy is myself. The days when the words are working against me and not for me, when I can't for the life of me get this stupid passage right. When the inside of the brain isn't matching the screen or the paper in front of me. But I guess annoying myself is better than nothing.

Sure it's really easy to push a few political buttons and tick people off, but where's the fun in that? Anyone can do that. It's the idea of writing a story that can get under the skin. Not just the annoying, as in angry kind, or the pull the carpet out of normal people's lives kind, but kind of like Jane Smiley's A Thousand Acres, where you finish the book and walk around for three days saying to yourself, "Oh, so that's why so and so is like that." Not out loud of course. But you finish the book and feel like you understand the world better. Not because of some obscure facts about old secret societies, but because there was some measure of truth (not truthiness) and you really can understand people better.

I guess that's why Smiley won the National Book Award. Go figure.

So many ideas, so little time...

“As I look back on what I have written, I can see that the very persons who have taken away my time are those who have given me something to say.” Katherine Paterson

I had a visitor last night that kept me up too late, late enough that 4:30, which is already hard enough, was even harder. Add in the start of Daylight Savings time, and I don't think many people will want to be around me today. But this morning, thinking about the visit, and all my crazy relatives (and I use that term in the most medical sense possible. Almost every one of them would do well with meds and some kind of therapy), I did come up with a germ of an idea for my next book. Possibly the sequel to the Purse Driven Life. Could be interesting. Could totally remove me from the grownup table at the next family gathering. Yep, it's that good.



"The last thing one settles in writing a book is what one should put in first." Pascal

"I rewrote the ending of 'Farewell to Arms' 39 times before I was satisfied."- Ernest Hemingway

Thirty nine times. And it's a war book. See, I am in good company. I'm only on Practical Flying's fifth or sixth ending. And I think I like this one.

Writing, Walking, and Talking

Walking is also an ambulation of mind.
-- Gretel Ehrlich


In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.
- John Muir

All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking.
- Friedrich Nietzsche

He who limps is still walking.
- Stanislaw J. Lec

I am in the middle of rewriting some action scenes from the WWII novel. One thing working on this book as taught me: I cannot write action scenes sitting still. I have to feel the adrenaline with the characters. Since I don't have access to a Douglas DC-3 to crash land for this, that means a run. Walking works for emotional scenes, but for action, it's running and the faster the better. With the soundtrack from a horse movie in the MP3 player.

The biggest thing I've noticed in writing books I've read, at least the ones by actual novelists and not just nonfiction writers, is the love of some kind of physical exercise of the rhythmic type, either walking or running. No cycling, no machines, no aerobics class. Not even treadmills, it's outdoors, even in the rain. Walkers include, CS Lewis, Tolkien, Madeleine L'Engle, Annie Dillard, Natalie Goldberg, Terry Brooks, David Morrell, Anne Lamott. I ought to take a poll, to see if my favorite novelists do as well. Or at least my favorite novelists this week, since that seems to be a changeable thing.

I'm sure Austen, and the Bronte's walked, it's what they did back then. I'm betting on Dostoevsky too, at least for travel, if not exercise. I'm thinking Margaret Atwood as well, mostly because her characters spend so much time in physical motion, that I would imagine she does as well. Besides, she's Canadian, which is so much like British, except without the Queen and the accent, so she must walk.

Walking helps writing, it informs is. Talking on the other hand kind of messes things up. Hemingway used to warn people that if you used up all the words talking about a project, you wouldn't have any left to write it. I am so guilty of that. I get all excited about something then talk about it once too often and poof, I sit down to write and I don't "see the scene" anymore. I'm trying hard not to do that with this new book. Which is easy, since I'm still in the research and stewing/dreaming stage. It will be a walking novel, not a running novel. And I think my dog is quite happy about that.

Book Recommendation

I have to recommend any book that says you have to spend time dreaming most days. Terry Brooks' Sometimes the Magic Works is like Novel Writing 101 about the mindset it takes to write a novel. Or maybe I just admire him because he writes huge honking novels AND they get published. He freely admits that had he started writing recently, his earlier stuff wouldn't cut the mustard. But he is in his sixties and still learns and used his imagination. How many sixty year olds still do that? It doesn't take much imagination to pull the slot machine handle, which is the family legacy I have.

But so much of my writing time this week has been re-visioning some of my key scenes. I'm hoping to get this all done by the end of April and I really think I'm on track. Then on to bigger and better things. Right?

The Joy and Necessity of Coffee

There is one thing worse than waking up and facing the day ahead from the starting point of 4:30 am. And that is facing the day from 4:30 am without coffee and breakfast. Sure, I know there are people in the world who face days and weeks without breakfast and not necessarily on purpose. I am not one of those people. I am blessed enough to have the prerequisites of a good, oatmeal and raisins breakfast every morning, courtesy of my husband's employment and my microwave.

But today, we will have none of it. Insurance physical, scheduled at 8:30 am. So I'll be there four hours hungry, and I'm so sure, pleasant to be around. At least I have a starbucks gift certificate sitting in my walled, ready to spring into action as needed to rescue me from the low blood sugar condition. Fasting pretty much since dinner last night, at 6pm. So, we're going on twelve hours of no calories in. Water is the only thing I'm allowed.

I hate drinking water. There, I said it. Here I am, a certified, personal trainer, pseudo athlete and I am admitting I hate drinking water. I will never be one of those who travels with the little water bottle, like a baby bottle, always in hand. My fluids need to contain if nothing else, caffiene. Flavor is another plus, but not those silly fruit flavored waters. Water was created as a base, not as an end in itself, that's my personal belief. It was made so that we wouldn't have to crunch coffee beans in the morning, something way too loud for the wee hours of dawn. It was made to keep us moving, not move through us. I now, I am out of like with every fitness professional and dietician who has ever walked the earth, but there you have it. I think some of you agree with me. You know you do.

Three hours until breakfast. Better hope you don't run into me...

The Essayist Glut

I discovered that rejections are not altogether a bad thing. They teach a writer to rely on his own judgment and to say in his heart of hearts, "To hell with you." ~ Saul Bellow

In tenth grade, I read a lot of Erma Bombeck and Art Buchwald. I wanted to be a humorist essayist as long as I could remember. Unfortunately, I didn't have a family willing to do funny things for me to write about. Nowadays, every blogger is an essayist. So competition is up. And it's the ol' supply and demand. Loads of supply. Demand is okay, but if you call it non-fiction, it had better be provable facts, right? So, there are two major things lacking in my career as a humorous essayist. Humor, being the big one. And someone willing to write me checks for writing them. I did find one market...but that's another story.

I'm reading a book right now by Barbara Ehrenreich. Her job title, essayist. She is witty, funny and lives in Key West Florida. There are lots of essayists out there, most don't claim it as a job title. Most just post on their little blogs and go on with real lives. Since I don't have a "real life" ie paid employment on a regular basis, I have to get the essay production up.

I've got three of her books sitting in my library pile, and so far, the first is a quick read. Nickel and Dimed is about some time she spent trying to see if one could really "live" on the living wage. No surprises to people that actually do, or rather try to. Not really, not without roommates, family, a community. Which contrasts with the American Ideal of pull yourself up by the bootstrap. What she proves, so far, in the 122 pages I read, is that hard work doesn't make you rich, just tired. Rich people, the kind that make their own wealth, may work hard, but there is another thing, a talent, an idea, something besides plain old hard work. I've been there, done the menial labor thing. Or should I say, service industry.

Some accuse the growing service industry for the lack of state money for schools. Seems Merry Maids, and places like that don't have large things like plants and factories for fat property taxes. The maids sure don't make enough to own property to tax. I guess the problem with trickle down is it is indeed a trickle. And the service class is growing, and the user class is holding steady, and the in betweeners are diminishing. As is understanding.

Green with envy....

I Googled Dan Brown and Da Vinci code. Over seven and a half million sites are listed. And I bet some of the websites are by people who have actually read the book. There are book sales, the famous movie sale and big movie stars, and then an entire cottage industry of anti-Da Vince code books. That's what fascinates me the most, how all these books debunking a novel are selling like the devil.

But the idea of writing a book, a novel, and having it be such a huge cultural thing, something that gets so many up in arms. Is it the subject or the story? I don't think it's just the subject, although it's important. But lots of books are written about really controversial subjects. They don't tend to sell millions and millions of copies. That's the rub. How do you write a book that does that? Thing is, if what Mr. Brown says on his website is true, it's not like he sat down to write a cultural battle ground. It was a story, one that kept gnawing at him and he got to the point where he had to write it. Since he already had a couple of b-list thrillers out there, he could get someone to publish it.

But I'm reading the book with my pen and highlighter. There's a lesson in there somewhere for commercial fiction writers. No one has accused Brown of being a literary high brow. But there hasn't been much Grisham-like critism either. (I think Grisham is a good storyteller, but he head hops so much, I get the concussions. Needless to say, I don't read his stuff unless necessary.) There has to be something in the book. Or an email address for an application to sell your soul.

Like I needed something else to do...

I am rapidly re-writing a large chunk of Practical Flying, now that I know how it really ends and hopfully will be done with that by the end of the month, or at the latest mid April. I'm not sure I'm ready to start editing the Purse Driven Life yet, although, I might zip through that while I'm researching the next project.

For the next project, the first phase is to re-read the Brothers Karamzov as much as I can. Yeah, hold your excitement. I know, gee, lets reread an eight hundred page book over and over. But with PF looking at coming in at a 200K word count, at least I can say I come by it honestly.

But while over at Crafty Peaches, I was musing on the political climate of the day and decided it was time modernize the BK. I think I would enjoy the project, and it would definitely be a challenge. But I could be fictional and political at the same time, plus write about the church. See, the idea has merit. So as part of Phase one, I will be tromping out to the Book Store to get a copy of BK that I could call my own, mark up, write in, etc. I wonder if it comes in a large print edition. Could you imagine hauling that booger around? It would have to come with a retractable handle and wheels, like a suitcase. Maybe a retractable stand as well, so you could just raise it up and start reading, since it would be difficult to hoist it up onto your stomach while lying on the sofa. Hmm, any publishers listening?...

Those with ears, let them hear, those with blogs, let them prop...

Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided
missiles and misguided men.
-- Martin Luther King Jr., Strength to Love, 1963



Mr. King wrote this in 1963. What would he say now? Today we can communicate faster and farther and cheaper than anytime past, but what do we have to say? We have concentrated more on methods than message. Anyone can have a blog, but how many blogs, mine included, are more about individual gripes and whines than really having something worth listening to. What would Martin Luther King Jr. say on a blog?

It's an age old question. Style over substance, method over message, etc. Then again, when you concentrate on the message, you get accused of preaching, that what you're communicating is only a sermon thinly disgused.

I'm reading Natalie Goldberg's Thunder and Lightening. Re-reading, because it's one of the few books that was on top of a box. But she talks in it about how the need the write comes from the desire to be heard. It takes seed in childhoods where children are seen and not heard. It's the urge to talk to Mom, Dad, teachers, etc and be heard. Rarely, she said, do people say they write because they need to be heard by grandparents. Somehow, they always have time to listen. But I can see where a lifetime of being shushed could lead to a desire to write. And I think the proliferation of blogs, especially by the younger, twenty-somethings and teens, is an outgrowth of the business of the adults in their lives. No one is around to listen to their stories, so they post them on line, and others might or might not read about the boy in physical science and the horrible wilted salad they served for lunch in the cafeteria, or how worried they are about the new zit on the end of the nose. Comments, props, etc, become so important, they are signs that someone out there is listening. And even if the reader doesn't agree, there is at least the illusion of being heard.

That's all it is, the illusion of being heard. You know someone visited the site, but you don't know if the reader really read, or was watching the latest movie trailer at the same time. In the desire to be heard, I think most of us are too busy with self, etc, to hear like we want to be heard. So we are compounding the problem. And the blogosphere grows...

There was another quote that came with Mr. King's. Seemed like a good final thought.

Stress is an ignorant state. It believes that everything is an
emergency. Nothing is that important.
-- Natalie Goldberg, O Magazine, October 2002

Lies and the Lying Liars that tell them....

I'm still waiting for James Earl Jones to call me. He should be calling any day now,to let me know that our dsl service at home is ready to go. He hasn't called yet, and I'm bummed. But not as bummed as my dog, who is stuck in the house because we don't have a fence yet.

Thing is, when I called, the friendly customer service person assured my that my internet connect would be ready the same day my telephone service was. Lies. Then, when I tried to call and find out what the deal was, and why the little dsl lights on my router weren't blinking the way they're supposed to, the happy lights, the computer generated voice referred me to a website! ARGH! I would be happy to visit your website....fix my dsl and I'll be there!

On the plus side, without internet access, things at the story factory are moving right along. Nothing else to do at four thirty, so I really have to work!

But just some friendly advice to the Friends of Mr. Jones: Talk to each other, eh? I'd be lessed stressed if I knew before hand it would be an extra week.

And Mr. Jones? I'm sitting by the phone, waiting for your call....