“A Crack in Everything”—In Partial Fulfillment of the 3 Quotes 3 Days Thingie

Laura Bruno Lilly nominated me for the 3 Quotes 3 Days Blogger Tag Thingie (not its official title). Thank you, Laura! 😃 But I decided to break the rules and post a quote one day instead of three, and nominate anyone who wants to do it (or not do it). Laura’s post with the rules can be found here, for those of you who are rule followers. (Blessings be upon your heads.)

On with the quote:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in. Leonard Cohen from “Anthem”

If you’re scratching your head, wondering what Cohen meant by those words, there’s no better explanation than the one he offers. You can find that here.

I chose it because I totally get the “crack in everything.” I remember as a kid, bemoaning what I thought was my lack of a perfect smile because of a gap between my front teeth. And as a teen, I worried about having “chicken legs” (a description given to them by a guy I once liked romantically, but later didn’t) instead of the perfectly sculpted ones others seemed to have. And then as an adult, I could not seem to produce the “perfect offering” novel-wise that would be rejection proof. 😀

Sometimes life reminds you that the hope of reaching perfection, or sorrowing over the lack of that state, is a waste of time. Granted, I’m not advocating, “So don’t try at all.” Instead, I think Leonard said it best:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering

On a less-than-perfect cloudy day, these daffodils gracefully bending in the wind were a lovely reminder of the beauty to be had even in imperfection.

Babette is babysitting. Not sure who would trust her to do that.

Liberty Bell photo from en.wikipedia.org. Leonard Cohen photo from fanpop.com. Other photos by L. Marie.

Take Joy—My Fourth-Year Blogoversary

It feels like forever since I’ve written a post. What a whirlwind the last two weeks have been. First, my computer decided to stop charging. After contacting the manufacturer a few times, I had to send it to California for repair. So, I was without a computer for a while. Though the repair center techies returned my computer, I’m still waiting for them to return my AC adapter. (So much for being able to use the computer.) Second, I caught the weird virus with a lingering cough that just about everyone I know has, and, like everyone else, have fought it with an antibiotic. (I’m still a bit under the weather.)

Anyway, this week marks my fourth anniversary as a blogger. Honestly, I almost forgot about that anniversary due to the computer issues. But like Christmas, “it came just the same.” (Extra credit points if you can name where that quote came from.)

As I considered what to post for this blogoversary, I was reminded of something my mom said to me recently after I grumbled to her about everything that happened: “Do something that brings you joy.” (Though I’m old as dirt, my mother still gives me advice. I find that quite nice, actually.)

Posting on this blog gives me great joy. But there have been times when that joy has diminished. This is usually when I start to worry about how many subscribers I have, versus how many a fellow blogger might have. Focusing on stats, at least for me, is a joy killer. So, in the last year or so, I made a pact with myself to ignore the stats and keep posting whether anyone reads what I write or not.

And that’s been the fear—that no one will read my witterings. But here I am, four years later, still wittering. Still flying by the seat of my pants as a blogger.

The best way to deal with fear is to focus on something that is an antidote to fear. Which brings me back to Mom’s advice about joy. For me, joy comes from putting words down on paper—words that tell a story, allow me to share a bit about myself, or provide a tip on the craft of writing.

Last week, joy also came from buying and putting together this Djeco fairy castle, which promptly gained a ton of visitors. But I digress.

  

Joy also comes from interacting with you, my readers. I’ve gained some good friends through this blog. And that’s the ultimate joy for me about being a blogger.

What brings you joy?

Some of the occupants on my computer desk

Joy image from floatinglemons.com. Number four from clker.com. No fear sign from liferoadsigns.com. Other photos by L. Marie.

Kitty Returns—My 400+ Post

Actually, this is my 411th post. I meant to commemorate the 400th post, but totally forgot about that milestone until now. Better late than never right?

Which brings me to the subject of this post: Kitty, or as she is sometimes known, Hello Kitty. She has not been seen since this post. Guess she’s been kinda busy. Being a supervillain can be difficult, especially if you’re carrying a cupcake and generally look sweet. Perhaps you can relate.

If you’re like Kitty, to make up for those deficits, you try to be extra clever as you work through your nefarious schemes. You travel the world, making sure the world is worth your time and effort to take it over. And you hire henchpeople and supervise them, or delegate that responsibility to thugs who don’t often have your work ethic.

You also speak to large crowds, making sure they understand your demands, and are aware of their place—squarely beneath the heels of your fur-lined jackboots.

I caught up with Kitty at her latest rally, and watched her address the crowd, hearing their mournful sighs as she unveiled her master plan for world domination. I had a few questions for her afterward.

Me: So, what’s it like being an icon for females young and old who love carrying backpacks shaped like you? By the way, that doesn’t seem like supervillainy to me.

Kitty: It’s part of the plan, L. All part of the plan.
Me: I see. So, will you tell me what’s going on in the photo below? Is that a crocheted beaker? Is Jordie (below left) one of your henchpeople? Since when do you have a minion (below right)? And is Jordie spelled J-O-R-D-I-E or J-O-R-D-Y? I haven’t been very consistent on this blog, because I wasn’t sure of the spelling.

Kitty: No. Yes. Yes. None ya.
Me: Huh?
Kitty: No, I won’t tell you what’s going on in that photo. Like the rest of the world, you’ll have to wait and see. But by then, it will be too late for you. Mwahahahaha! Yes, that is a crocheted beaker. How observant of you. Yes, Jordie is one of my henchpeople. And none of your business whether or not I have a minion. Hence the term none ya.
Me: You’re rude.
Kitty: Thank you. I try. And for the record, Jordie prefers the J-O-R-D-I-E spelling.
Me: Gotcha. And what is the significance of this photo?

Kitty: Don’t ask. Just . . . don’t.
Me: Well, can you at least tell me why Gandalf is in the beaker in this photo?

Kitty: That’s actually a funny story.
Me: I’d love to hear it.
Kitty: Too bad! I won’t tell it to you. Mwahahahahaha!
Me (sighing): I give up.
Kitty: That’s what I like to hear!

So, there you have it. A supervillain’s work seems confusing and secretive at times—kind of like the thinking processes of this intrepid blogger.

Thanks for sticking around for 411 posts. You can count on me to bring you the 4-1-1 (that’s old slang for information if you’re completely confused) on the weird, the whimsical, and the wild.

Photos by L. Marie.

Giving Away a Smile . . . or Two

Ever have one of those seasons when you’re so broke you can’t even pay attention? Welcome to my life. Consequently, I was offline for almost two weeks. Internet service providers don’t work for free after all. I haunted the library daily like an overzealous patron. But I couldn’t always get on the computer. And with a 60-minute time limit for the use of a computer, I could only check email and leave.

I missed you. I missed posting on my blog and reading the posts of others.

One good thing that happened during my exile is that I finished a revise of my middle grade fantasy novel. I am now working on cutting scenes out of said revise. The fact that I accomplished so much in a short span of time made me painfully aware of how much I usually procrastinate online.

Meanwhile, I’m back online with a giveaway. Inspired by the kindness of friends who made me smile during a difficult time, I’m giving away two copies of an award-winning middle grade graphic novel called Smile by Raina Telgemeier. Why this book? Mainly because the publisher (Graphix/Scholastic), for some reason, sent me stickers autographed by the author.

 

So to celebrate my return online and getting through the revision, two commenters will each get a copy of this book. Due to the cost of mail delivery, I can only send the stickers and two crocheted daisy coasters (in photo below; they make me smile) to people in the U.S. (Yep. Offline I accomplished things like learning to crochet daisy-shaped coasters. The pattern is here.) But don’t worry, those of you who live outside the U.S. and depend on Amazon.co.uk. I can still send you the book courtesy of Amazon.

Anyway, nice to “see” you again. I’ll announce the winners when I post next week. I’m still deciding on which day I’ll post each week.

What made you smile this week? I hope you’ll find a lot to smile about this weekend.

Book cover from Goodreads. Off button from youthleaderstash.com.

Time for a Change

Ever been in a relationship where your significant other sat you down and said, “It’s time for a change”? (That always sounds ominous, doesn’t it?) Perhaps you were the one who sat someone down and gave that speech. If you or someone you love felt taken for granted or wondered where the magic had gone, perhaps that was the catalyst for initiating the “time for a change” talk.

Are you sitting down? Good. It’s time for a change.

Over the last few days, I’ve thought about this blog and the fact that lately I seem to be repeating myself. Some of the repetition is due to absent-mindedness—a product of the various stressors in my life, along with a need to complete my novel (not exactly a stressor).

To avoid stagnation, I mulled over my options. Cut down on posting? Give up the blog altogether? The latter was not an option I considered for long. After all, relationships take commitment. And I’m committed to this blog and to you who read it.

They’re committed, too, though you might not wish to know exactly to what they’re committed.

So cutting back to posting once a week was the best option for the time being. I don’t want to wear out my welcome after all. I’ll see how that posting schedule plays out. However, I might occasionally have to post twice a week for special events like interviews, cover reveals, and other book-related announcements.

Ironically, this is my second post this week. But I had to post again in order to make the announcement about posting once a week. 🙂 I haven’t decided yet on what day I’ll post from now on. I’m mulling that over.

In the meantime, I hope you’ll continue leaving the light on for me. 🙂 Have a great rest of the week!

Clock from sweetclipart.com. Lamp from clipartlord.com.

Happy Spring—My 300th Post

You have to laugh at weather in the Midwest, otherwise you’d cry. A lot. I mean, look at this—a bouquet of snowflakes arriving just in time for spring.

Ooo. Ahhh. That brisk spring breeze. Watch as I celebrate burgeoning spring by shoveling snow and brushing it off my car. Cheer as I tiptoe daintily along the snow-covered path to get the mail. Strap in as I navigate the slippery, snow-covered streets. (Uh, can you tell I’ve been watching too many Honest Trailers?)

 

So spring is on a slight delay here. I don’t do well with delays. But even with the snow, I’m reminded of the new life inherent with spring. Trees bud. Birds mate. Easter beckons.

We make plans, don’t we, as we contemplate warmer weather and being seen without heavy winter clothes or visited by people who have been cooped up inside all winter. You know what that means. House painting. Spring cleaning. Shedding winter pounds. (Which I was informed I need to do, since my cholesterol and blood pressure are both high—facts I learned after waiting over an hour to have a five-minute conversation with a medical practitioner.)

Spring also means tackling other projects that could lead to a changed life. You know what those are. Finishing novels, poems, graphic novels, or screenplays. Getting queries out. Waiting for someone to respond to those queries. Eating ice cream. (Wait. How did that one get there?)

What is it about spring that makes us long for change? Perhaps because it is the first full season of the year (winter doesn’t count, since it carried over from last year) and we’re ready to begin anew. We have a clean slate.

Spring is the time to make life glorious. How are you planning to change your life this spring? If you can’t think of a plan, here are some suggestions off the top of my head:

When you can’t find a flower, make your own, then give it to someone who needs it more.

Be a wildlife champion. Look what someone left by the dumpster for the birds, the coyote who occasionally visits, and the stray cats roaming about (who might have met the coyote).

Happy spring! Thanks for helping to make this blog one for which I wanted to write 300 posts. 😀

Bathroom scale from deals.plethoraa.com.

Color Show

While researching sight in horses, I learned that horses can’t distinguish as many colors as humans can. The human retina has three cone photoreceptors while the equine retina has two (dichromatic vision).

One of the articles I read is “Vision in horses: More than meets the eye” by Neil Clarkson for Horsetalk.co.nz. The following line from the article made me sit up and take notice:

The research showed that horses, with their dichromatic vision, cannot distinguish red.

Humans with protanomalous (red-weak) vision have the same issue. And since red is my favorite color, well, you can see why I took notice, especially since the color red led me to research the topic in the first place. While writing a story with shape-shifters, I wanted to know which colors a teen in his animal form (horse) could distinguish. Could he distinguish the color of blood on snow?

I guess it’s up to me whether or not he retains his trichromatic color vision or switches over to dichromatic while a horse. (This is a fantasy book after all.) Since I wound up dumping the snow in the scene, the color aspect became moot anyway. But it caused me to think of how enriched my own world is due to having trichromatic color vision. Since I love bright colors (note the nail polish in the first photo), I have to fight the temptation to make every person, place, or thing I write about brightly colored. But I love using colors as symbols to show the emotional landscape of a character or to show mood in general.

Color choice can be very important when you’re using an objective correlative. If you’re wondering what an objective correlative is, here’s a handy definition from Merriam-Webster.com:

Something (as a situation or chain of events) that symbolizes or objectifies a particular emotion and that may be used in creative writing to evoke a desired emotional response in the reader.

A great post on objective correlatives with a helpful (and color-filled) example can be found here at Ingrid’s Notes. I can wait while you jet over there. I’ve got coffee to drink anyway.

You’re back? Good. Moving on, I also love to use color in an ironic way; for example, a depressed character who has the most colorful hair or wears the most colorful clothing (or both).

Color is one of the reasons why I love superhero ensemble shows or movies—all of those colorful costumes. Yet some of the most interesting heroes are the ones in basic black (or “very, very dark gray”; if you’ve seen The Lego Movie, you probably recognize that line). Here are some of those heroes:

Black Panther (in front) and Lego Batman

Black Widow and Hawkeye

(Still wondering about the “dark gray” line? Watch this video.)

How do you use color in your stories? What, if anything, have you admired about another author’s use of color?

Hello Kitty and Jordie wanted to be part of the color photo shoot, since they’re colorful as well. However, if this post were a magazine, this photo would be one of the alternate covers.

By the way, I mentioned in another post that I was going to make myself a puppy hat. Mission accomplished. And yes, I wear it proudly.

Horse eye from commons.wikimedia.org. Color wheels trotusa.com (which had the same photos from the Horsetalk article). Red wallpaper from love-wallpapers.com. Batman from jeffajohnson.com. Jeremy Renner from Hawkeye from fanpop.com. Black Widow from hdresimler.com. Black Panther from fanpop.

All Roads Lead to . . .

I worked with a guy who should have had his own version of Six Degrees of Separation. Every time I’d mention someone, he either knew that person or knew someone connected to that person. So, if I ever grew angry with my co-worker and wanted to vent, I had no one to talk to about him, because he’d eventually hear about it. I don’t dare mention his name, because you might know him.

A six-degrees of separation flowchart

Know someone like that? If you read Malcolm Gladwell’s nonfiction book, The Tipping Point, you know about connectors—people who have an innate ability to connect people to other people. (Read this if you want to know more about connectors.)

I am probably the only connection-impaired person in a family of connectors. I’m usually the person who goes, “I saw What’s-his-name the other day. You know. He’s married to What’s-her-face.”

This is me, sort of. Actually, it’s Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice (2005). But I relate to the posture of standing alone, or at least standing in the wind trying to recall someone’s name.

Connectors know lots of people. My older brother was one of the most popular people at our high school. He’s always naming people he heard from recently. (To which I usually reply, “Oh yeah. I sorta remember him,” knowing that I’m drawing a blank.) My younger brother was popular at his university. Do you know how difficult it is to be popular at a university which boasts tens of thousands of people? His birthday parties are usually populated by at least 40 of his closest friends. Now, I’ve known my younger brother all of his life, but at a recent party he threw, there were people who came that I did not know.

My dad knows tons of people. My mom always manages to connect to people who know everyone. My parents are used to the connecting way of life, because they’re from large families with a combined total of over twenty siblings (though, sadly, several are dead now). My in-laws also know everyone. I remember being in a mall in Houston with my sister-in-law, only to have her run into someone she knew. (We don’t live in Texas by the way. You know you’re a connector when you bump into people you know while traveling.)

Many bloggers are connectors: Andra Watkins; Jill Weatherholt; K. L. Schwengel; Charles Yallowitz; Marylin Warner; Laura Sibson; Sharon Van Zandt; Lyn Miller-Lachmann; the Brickhousechick; T. K. Morin; Celine Jeanjean; Mishka Jenkins; Sandra Nickel—just to name a few. And I have several classmates (besides Laura, Lyn, and Sandra, and Sharon) who are born connectors. Whenever I want to inquire about agents, publishers, marketing, or anything else, I head straight to them for advice.

We look to the connectors in our lives, especially when we need to network, don’t we? It’s nice to know someone who knows someone else trustworthy. Connectors seem to love to match you with people they know. Need your car fixed? They know the perfect place to take your little Yugo. (Remember those?) Need your roof fixed? They know the people you should avoid calling. The only awkward thing about some connectors is that they think they know your taste when sometimes they don’t. Like when I was blindsided at a dinner by a well-meaning connector who tried to match me up with someone who also did not understand that this was a matchmaking meal. Talk about awkward, especially since we had no interest in each other.

 

A Yugo

Authors are the ultimate connectors in a way. If you’re a fan of Charles Dickens, you know that in many of his books, he often reveals hidden connections between his characters. Then he adds a connector to connect the dots. Don’t believe me? Read Bleak House or see BBC’s adaptation of it. I won’t spoil the mystery for you.

                 

The challenge for an author comes with connecting characters in a noncontrived way—and by that I mean beyond shock value. Oh, I know. There’s something fun about the “Luke, I am your father” announcements. Have you explored the connections between your characters in ways that might surprise or delight a reader (or a viewer)? I’m reminded of a movie, Whisper of the Heart, written by Hayao Miyazaki, in which the main character, Shizuku, checks out library books and constantly finds the name of another character on the checkout cards. (This movie was made in the 90s, so checkout cards were used then.) He becomes an important connector for her. Knowing your characters’ back stories really helps. I’ve been a bit lazy in regard to back story with some of my characters. Some seem too isolated ala the Lizzie Bennet photo above. I’m trying to rectify that by providing more connecting points (i.e., interactions with friends, family, acquaintances, and enemies).

Connectors are a reminder of the richness of being in a community. I’m grateful for the threads like connectors that link us together.

Who are the connectors in your life?

Gratuitous chicken photo

Crossroads photo from amersrour.blog.com. Six degrees diagram from commons.wikimedia.org. Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet image from pinterest.com. Yugo and chicken photos from Wikipedia. Book cover from Goodreads.

Time Waits for No One

I’ve been remiss in saying thank you to Celine Jeanjean for nominating me for this award awhile ago. Thank you, Celine. (Be sure to check out her blog.)

I’d also like to thank all of my readers for your continued support of this blog. Thanks for reading and commenting. Starting a blog is always a gamble. There’s no guarantee that anyone will read it one time, let alone more than once. So, thanks for stopping by.

Wondering what finally prompted my long overdue gratitude? You’ve undoubtedly heard about Robin Williams’s recent death. I’ve read many blog posts with eloquent thoughts on this tragic event. I have nothing new to add, though Robin Williams will be missed. But I’m in a pondering mood, nevertheless. This event spurs me to express my thanks for the people in my life who have offered love, support, and friendship over the years. I can’t thank you enough.

It’s sad that a death is the impetus necessary to spur me to say, “Thanks” or “I love you” or “Here is what I’ve always found delightful about you” to someone else. I’m not proud of this. I can’t help recalling my grandmother’s funeral a few years ago and how I talked to cousins I hadn’t spoken to in years. Years. Was life really that busy that I couldn’t pick up a phone or write a quick email?

It wasn’t.

We always think we’ll have enough time, don’t we, to assure our loved ones of their belovedness. How human of us. If only we would put aside our assumption that we can predict the amount of time we’ll have with each other (i.e., “we have plenty of time”), hence our putting off vocalizing how we feel. If only we would take the time to say what we think doesn’t need to be said, but always needs to be. After all, no one is a mind reader.

The people you love the most might need to hear, right now, that you’re grateful they’re in your life. You might think they should know how you feel, because you work hard to give them nice things or you make nice meals or you nag them (for their own good) to be better people. And they are better people—you’ve done your job. Now do them and yourself a favor. Tell them they’re worth all of the nagging and meal making. And maybe they’ll have a gift for you. Maybe they’ll tell you what you mean to them.

But I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that. You already regularly tell others how you feel, don’t you? But for anyone else out there who needs a little reminder, if you saw X-Men: Days of Future Past, you heard this poignant Jim Croce song, “Time in a Bottle.” It’s a reminder about time. (I also thought of the Jacksons’ song, “Time Waits for No One” too, hence the post title.)

I’m off to take my own advice. There are a lot of people in my life who could use a hug or a “thank you” right about now.

Robin Williams photo from fanpop.com. Valentine from heroeswallpapers.com.

Reminders

Recently, being without Internet access for over a day was a reminder of how things used to be. (Don’t worry. I had enough chocolate to compensate.)

I’m old enough to remember when the Internet we know today was just an infant (when commercial ISPs became available in the late 80s to mid-90s). Back in the early 1990s, for me the word Internet meant the result of one of my volleyball serves. (Internet = into net or, if you’re from Chicago like I am, in da net. Ha, I crack myself up.) For interconnection, we had email on a pitiful scale where I worked—software we thought was cutting edge. We had no inkling of the technological advances soon to come. And that was back when I worked on a tiny Mac Classic at the office and later a larger desktop model—in the Mac II family.

At home, I had an old Mac PowerBook 160 with a 40 MB hard drive and four MB of RAM. You read that right. Four megabytes of RAM!!! Oh yeah, I was cooking with fire. Feast your eyes on this baby (below). I had to look on the Internet (namely here) for a photo of it, because that computer is long gone from my life! 

    

Look at it. Cuddly, lovable. . . . Good times.

The guy at the computer repair shop I constantly visited begged me to get another computer. When the laptop finally crashed too often to be of any use, I went without a computer for a while, except for the one I used at work. And back then, I was at the office seven days a week sometimes. Around 2001, I finally moved on to my first PC—a Gateway with a 3½-inch floppy disk drive. Remember those? The disks seemed to corrupt really quickly. I lost the middle section of a novel when a disk went bad.

I’ve since had other computers. But I won’t bore you with all of the details, since I began this post with a discussion about the Internet. So let me get back to that. Though the Internet is convenient and offers so much information right at the proverbial fingertips, ironically, I’m much more productive without it. In fact, I feel a little embarrassed by how much I accomplished while offline (namely, a huge chunk of my novel revision), simply because I was not checking email every five minutes, reading blogs and other articles, or looking up goofy cat pictures like this one (which I found here).

Or this one (found here):

Why am I embarrassed? Because, sadly, this proves how much time I usually spend procrastinating. I have only myself to blame.

I remember back in the 1990s when I used to goof off playing SimTower—the product of someone else’s fertile imagination (OpenBook Co., Ltd. and published by Maxis). I spent hours coming up with the right combination of offices, condos, elevators, and restaurants, trying to keep my tenants happy. I probably spent more time playing that game than I spent building my own fictional world. And that was when I was trying to break into screenwriting, particularly at the Disney Studios. Instead of revising my awful screenplay (which was 24 pages too long), I was stressing over whether some people in a computer game were happy. But what about the people in my story? I didn’t really know them. Unfortunately for them, I never paid attention with to them with my whole head. And by that I mean my mind and senses fully engaged.

   

So, being without the Internet and its conveniences has caused me to think deeply about the ways I’ve often sabotaged myself by clinging to the convenience or entertainment of technology. I’m reminded of the wisdom of Andra Watkins of The Accidental Cootchie Mama blog, who once challenged her readers to unplug sometimes. (Sorry. I don’t have that exact blog post link.) When we make a conscious effort to unplug and get out into the world or get necessary tasks done, in some ways, we’re preparing ourselves for the coming zombie apocalypse, during which all technology will be useless and we have to get back to basics (like knowing how to swing an axe).

Do yourself a favor. Unplug. Unwind. And while you’re at it, perfect that axe swing.

Cats from LOL Cats. Mac computer from Old-computers.com. PowerBook 160 photos from Shrineofapple.com and Smashing Lists.com. SimTower images from Wikipedia. Floppy disk meme from here.