Wanderday

And a ‘Good Afternoon’ to you! Glad to see you ’round the castle – pull up a chair and I’ll have a minion fetch you a frosty beverage of some kind. What’s up with me, you ask? Oh, go on… you don’t want to hear about boring old me, do you? Really? No, I couldn’t possibly. No. *blushing* Well, if you insist, and only because I want my guests to feel like lord of the manor.

- Cats are the weirdest animals. They chase bugs, kill them, but don’t eat them. I felt like some Mafia low-life cleaning up a body after the hit man, and all I did was escort a single fly to Valhalla. I suppose I could have floated him down the Ganges (i.e. flushed him), but I didn’t think of it at the time. I’ll try to be more aware of my options.

- We’re all pretty sure our winter’s over. My daffodils are about two inches out of the ground. What do you think? How’s your winter treating you?

- The joys of driving a thirteen year old car are never-ending. Now my brakes sound like the percussion section of a salsa band. Aye yi yi!

- I miss Sparky-cat when the weather gets cold. I miss his cuddles. He kept me warm. He also kept most of his fur on me, so maybe I should be glad neither of our present felines is a cuddler. My allergies are bad enough as it is.

- Yes, I do look young for my age. My secret? Fat fills in the wrinkles. *shhhh* Don’t tell anyone. Here’s some Rocky Road.

- The sprogs are fine, or as fine as can be expected. None are in jail as of this moment, as far as I know. Thank Bob.

- Is it Friday yet?

So sorry you have to scoot along. It was lovely to chat with you – please come back soon! Mi castle es su castle. Don’t forget your toast and your kitten, they’ll be waiting for you on the drawbridge. Tootles!

Of An Afternoon

Here’s what happens on any given afternoon in the castle:

Youngest sprog pretends to do homework until I catch him playing Minecraft. Here’s one assignment he actually completed -

I like it. It’s probably all about a nagging mother and how she harangues her son, but I like the pretty colors.

Then Kevin the Kitten chases Wilbur-cat around until Wilbur has the shakes and the tremors. Poor kitty.

See? Even I was shaking, though maybe it was from laughing. Maybe.

Because Kevin will often find something to amuse himself, which amuses all of us.

Bags are always good for a chortle or six. Poor bag never stood a chance, really.

Casey watches the kitten while he attacks the bag, ready to eat him if we give the right signal.

She’s a team player, that dog. Always willing to go the extra mile for us.

And me?

Well, I’m usually admiring my new prezzie.

Purty, ain’t it? Yes I love that man of mine.

After all the fun and games though, it’s time to get back to the really important things in life. The things you MUST do to be the individual you are.

Nap time.

Blackout

I can’t do much, but I can do this.

Respect the blackout. Get informed. Stay informed. Contact your legislators.

What I Do Every Winter

Our Royal Castle is located in a very temperate area of the country – the Pacific Northwest. Winter here consists of rain, clouds, drizzle, clouds, mist, and clouds…usually at a balmy 45 degrees. And, bummer to be me, ever since I was a tiny princess I have loved nothing more than snow. I adore it, really. I lovelovelove snow!

One thing I’ve discovered – it’s tough to get snow when it’s 45 degrees. Yes, I went to meteorological school.

Some years we get amazingly lucky and have one good snowstorm that lasts a couple of days. In 2008, we had snow for twelve days straight. It. Was. Glorious.

Truly. The entire city and all the ‘burbs pretty much shut down. We needed chains to drive anywhere at all. I got almost zero work done. I could NOT have been a happier camper.

Since then, it’s been pretty slim pickings. And every time the temperature gets below 34 degrees, this is where I am:

Staring out, waiting for the flakes to fall. I want you to notice that there WERE snowflakes a ‘fallin’ yesterday. I was giddy and beside myself with excitement.

We have snow in our forecast until sometime tomorrow morning. Darling husband is hoping for enough white stuff to earn a two-hour delay in his school. Youngest sprog is hoping for a cancellation of school. I just want it to SNOW already.

I’ll be standing by the window, waiting.

Saturday Update

So…did I get distracted by Kevin the kitten’s scampering or did I kick it outta the park?

*BAM*

Here’s what I did yesterday:

1) Posted to my blog (duh) and other social media

2) Backed up everything on old laptop

3) Loaded it onto new laptop

4) Grocery shopped

5) Took care of banking and bills

6) Drank a jeroboam of water

7) Did about 70 squats and push-ups

8) Re-read and polished first three scenes in my book

9) Cleaned living room and started laundry

All in all, I had a very productive Friday – I surprised even myself, which is hard to do. And while I’m listening to the dog drink out of the toilet, tell me what you accomplished yesterday or today? Did you do at least one thing you wanted to do, and one thing you had to do?

I’m all about balance, you know.

Procrastination? Oh, Look! A Kitten!

Welcome to Friday the 13th, darlings! Outside the castle, it’s a chilly and clear morning – the sun has just started to lighten the sky behind Mt. Hood, turning the underside of the few fluffy clouds a glorious Pepto pink. Kevin the kitten is chasing Nerf darts up and down the royal hallway, Casey dog is sleeping on our royal feet, and Wilbur-cat is hiding from everyone. And what am I doing,  besides writing a fabulous new post?

Uhhhh, let’s see…I should start on the laundry soon because we are dangerously close to having no proper garments for our royal undercarriage. And I always have vacuuming, cleaning, bill-paying, and general dogs-bodying to occupy my time. Ooh, and there’s a full pot of tea. And I haven’t had breakfast yet. And I should start drinking my water so I can begin WritersButt stuff, too. And…and…what’s that you ask? What am I working on?

All right. Time to ‘fess up. I made a definite, clear, and simple plan for my writing this year. Yep. Clear. Crystal clear. My lovely critique partners helped me prioritize my projects and decide on some attainable,  measurable goals.

It’s the 13th of January. Have I started? Have I made the leap back into my projects? How’s that revision, you ask?

Have I shown you how adorable the kitten is? He’s now draped himself across his kitten tower, looking up at me with adorableness oozing from every whisker.

Oh, dear. Ohdearohdearohdear.

How hard can it be to revise a book series I know from the inside out? I invented that world and wrote the damn things, after all. It’s not like I’m coming at this absolutely cold. So what’s stopping me? The answer is not, shocking as it seems, a finger-numbing disease that makes typing impossible. And it’s not tiny gnomes and pixies luring me away from the computer with Rocky Road ice cream and/or toast.

It’s nuthin’ but  fear. Plain and simple. For me, I’m most afraid I won’t be able to tell this story the way it should be told – that I’ll forget a key piece or muck it up so badly no one will ever read it. And when it comes down to the wire, it’s easier to do nothing and think we might have some skills than DO IT and prove to everyone we actually suck as badly as we think we do. Why are writers gripped in this fear? Why is every stinking one of us insecure, no matter how many contracts we have or books we’ve sold? What can we do to get over our bad selves?

There are classes to help, therapy to help, books to help, friends to help. I’ve used all of those but therapy (though Bob knows I could use it) and they do offer help, if for no other reason than they make you figure out what you truly want. When someone asks you the question “if you’re as crappy as you say, why are you still doing it?”, you have a tendency to pay attention. And you ask yourself the same thing, every day and every second.

For me, the words I use with my sprogs resonate in my ears the most. “If you don’t try, you’ll never know. Not really. And do you want a lifetime of ‘what-if’s’ ahead of you?”. It’s changing my mind-set to accept that not everything I do will be perfect the first time. Things will suck now and then, and it’s okay if people point that out to me. It’s like putting on Kevlar underwear before diving into an alligator tank. Some of the ‘gators might gnaw on me a bit and, yeah, it’ll be painful, but the center of me will be fine. I will be fine. I might lose a finger or two, but I’ll come through it with enough of me to survive.

Now it’s your turn…tell me what motivates you to get going and just DO whatever you’ve been putting off. I have some things I need to accomplish today that don’t involve kittens.

**drawings courtesy of Hyperbole and a Half I hope she doesn’t sue me. Please go to her site ’cause she’s awesomer than a really awesome thing.

WritersButt, Week 2

All right, my little otter pops…time for another task given to us by the lovely Ginger. How did week one go for you? Ready to step it up?

This week:

Continue to drink a small swimming pool of water (100 ounces a day is the target). This is my glass/bottle of choice, naturelment.

Every time you pee (which means about a zillion trips to the biffy because of the agua), do ten squats.

ADD IN ten push-ups (I do wall push-ups, ’cause it’s not really convenient to get down on the ground at work or at Starbucks). You can do regular push-ups, girly push-ups (shown below) or wall push-ups.

 

In the interest of full disclosure, Ginger doesn’t tell us to do both squats and push-ups, but I’ve been doing them for a few days now and they go quickly, so try both. After seven days, it seems my thighs and arms might actually have a muscle or two under all the carb-riddles chubbiness. For me, having two small activities makes this feels a little more important, plus it’s getting me ready for the BIG transition…changing my food habits.

Go see her post here for more details: Ginger’s Blog My creativity level hasn’t changed yet, but I’m heading in the write direction. GET IT?! I said ‘write’ direction! Woo. I crack myself up.

Now go forth… drink, pee, squat, and push. WritersButt gets you active, even if you aren’t a normally active person. It’s a WIN-WIN!

 

 

Chronological Vacuum

I have a new obsession. Well…maybe obsession is the wrong word. I’ll sum up, as quickly as I can (and that means ‘I hope you brought snacks and are in a comfortable chair.’):

1) Started watching HBO’s ‘Game of Thrones‘ last year as a methadone fix until the next season of ‘True Blood‘. First show was okay, though I doubted I would ever be able to keep all the characters’ names straight. Second show, even better. By the jaw-dropping finale, I was enthralled by the series.

2) Read the first book in George R. R. Martin’s series, ‘A Game of Thrones’.  It was awesome, and it made me appreciate the HBO adaptation even more. (It was spot-on, by the way.)

3) I decided NOT to read the other books, but to watch the series’ as they unfolded.

4) To hell with #3, I bought the four book set at Costco.

5) Read the second book. This one was very good, too. Still amazed at how Martin beats up his characters. Maiming, torture, death…even major players get offed with abandon.

6) Read the third and fourth books. Oh-my-freaking-Bob. War, death, witchcraft, zombies, dragons, death, intrigue, betrayal, incest, lust, death…

7) Which brings me to yesterday, when I went in search of the fifth book. I had to – you understand, don’t you? This story has burrowed under my skin like a communicable parasite. Itchy, scratchy and uncomfortable, but something I can’t deny. HOW DOES IT END???

This bad boy came out earlier in the year and is still available only in hardback, and as an e-book. It’s 957 pages. And it took him six years to publish. If the next one takes the same amount of time, I am in BIG trouble.

Enough words from me…gotta go read. And my writing? Who the hell cares? I’ve gotta know WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

WritersButt

*snicker* I said ‘butt’.  Oops…sorry…

Okay people, look lively! Things need shaping up around the Castle.( And by ‘things’ I mean ‘us’.) We need to do something about bat wings, muffin tops, and thunder thighs – STAT!

Enter the lovely Ginger Calem and the lovely Linda Gerber…two of my critique partners and all-around fabulous individuals. They started chatting about health, weight, energy, strength – you know, all the stuff you’re supposed to worry about but don’t because you have clothes to fold, bills to pay, a chicken in the oven, and a child wrapped around your shin. But they moved past all the everyday stuff and got down to the heart of the issue…can your health and your fitness level impact and feed your creativity? What if there’s a link between the shape of your tuchus and the ease with which you write? (or paint or sculpt or balance QuickBooks…it’s all the same, really.)

These two things are absolutely hand-in-hand, and if you neglect your body, your mind will spank you for it. Lethargy, dullness, inability to focus…all attributable to a lack of proper diet and proper exercise.

Wowzer.

So they created a new program called WritersButt. It’s a work-in-progress, as are we all, and just started yesterday. Follow Ginger’s blog here: http://gingercalem.wordpress.com/2012/01/04/writersbutt/   She’ll post a new piece of WB every Wednesday – tips, suggestions and real-world applications that will help us all get moving, improve our health and get our creative juices flowing.

You can also follow the daily ins and outs on Twitter, using the hashtag #writersbutt. Plus, we should have a Facebook page in a few weeks.

And now that I’ve downed the volume of the Willamette River, I’m off to piddle and do some squats. It’s a very good thing I work in someone’s house and have the bathroom to myself.

Go WritersButt…Go!!

Star-Crossed

I don’t know if these crazy kids will make it. I want them to, goodness knows…I think everyone wants them to stick together. But being together means ignoring everything they are, and everything they have inside them.

He’s a Nook:

But she’s a Kindle:

Two e-readers, both alike in dignity and E-ink, as well as title availability.**

Can they reconcile their essential differences while embracing their similarities? Will they ever be able to share and get along? Do they even want to? Could this be a tragic re-telling of the VHS vs. Betamax horror of the 1980′s? Is it apparent to all six of my readers that I might need a very strong cup of tea and a long nap?

Never was a tale more filled with books than that of Kindle versus Nook.**

**My deepest apologies to all.