Odd things that fascinate me, in no particular order:
The lives of Truckers. They are kind of like modern day Pony Express riders, only they have more horses under their asses. Whenever I pass a trucker, I can't help but wonder what his (or her!) little 'man/woman cave' in the back of their cab looks like. Is it tastefully decorated, with clean linens and grooming utensils carefully packed away in a bag to cart into a truck stop shower? Or, is it a stench filled festering pocket of dandruff and sloughed skin cells, used condoms (or, ew, 'used' tube socks), with linens that haven't been washed for 2 years? Or, worse yet, is there some poor soul chained up against their will just praying for some passing driver to somehow sense their turmoil and alert the authorities? These are just a few of the things I ponder when I see a trucker on the road.
I am also fascinated with Trailer Parks. They are such interesting snippets of Americana. Like the great philosopher Forrest Gump said - "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get." Well, the same goes for Trailer Parks. You could be venturing into a neighborhood worthy of being the set for the Forth Sequel to "The Hills Have Eyes", or you could be venturing into a neighborhood full of Easter egg colored trailers, each with tidy little astroturf yards with friendly Garden Gnomes peering at you from every nook. Yes, you never know what you're going to get with Trailer Parks, and that's why they fascinate me.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Too many voices in my head...
David and Lauren
Michael and Elle
Aiden and Elizabeth
Aaron and Kate
Yes, these are all the heros/heroines in the books I am writing.
David and Lauren Book I is almost done!
David and Lauren Book II is on it's way to being done.
Michael and Elle is almost done.
Aiden and Elizabeth is planned.
Aaron and Kate is in it's infancy.
I am contantly being nagged by each of these personalities about their stories. David will interrupt my shower with dialogue. Elizabeth will pout at me while I'm driving, wondering why I haven't spent any time with her for a few days.
Of course, if this were all literally happening to me, you could call the looney bin. But, I am trying to illustrate the way a writer's mind works. It's in constant motion. I cannot shut it off. With every trip to the store, or every play of a song, I am wondering "What if..."
What if Aiden worked in another city? What if Elizabeth were married to the zoo Vet? What if Aaron has a handicap (I always thing men with canes are sexy - I mean young men, of course!)? What if Kate didn't win the drawing?
I owe it to my characters to see their stories through to their happy endings. They have become my friends.
David and Lauren
Michael and Elle
Aiden and Elizabeth
Aaron and Kate
Yes, these are all the heros/heroines in the books I am writing.
David and Lauren Book I is almost done!
David and Lauren Book II is on it's way to being done.
Michael and Elle is almost done.
Aiden and Elizabeth is planned.
Aaron and Kate is in it's infancy.
I am contantly being nagged by each of these personalities about their stories. David will interrupt my shower with dialogue. Elizabeth will pout at me while I'm driving, wondering why I haven't spent any time with her for a few days.
Of course, if this were all literally happening to me, you could call the looney bin. But, I am trying to illustrate the way a writer's mind works. It's in constant motion. I cannot shut it off. With every trip to the store, or every play of a song, I am wondering "What if..."
What if Aiden worked in another city? What if Elizabeth were married to the zoo Vet? What if Aaron has a handicap (I always thing men with canes are sexy - I mean young men, of course!)? What if Kate didn't win the drawing?
I owe it to my characters to see their stories through to their happy endings. They have become my friends.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Vacation of a Lifetime
Recently, life gave me the opprotunity to go on an awesome vacation to Edinburgh, London, and Paris! It was a wonderful thing, but, I am not going to blog about that vacation. Sorry.
I am here to discuss a psychological phenomenon that seems to be spreading like an epidemic! I call it "Linear Living." My definition : Linear Living occurs when a person has lost all sense of magic and hope.
LLers are the folks who, upon hearing you are going on, oh I dunno, a Mexican Cruise, say "That's the vacation of a Lifetime!" To me, that implies that one can only (should only?) take that particular vacation once. Why? Who made those rules? I used a Mexican Cruise as an example because they really are not that expensive, and with the right planning almost anyone can take one, or two, or a dozen.
But, it is this kind of mentality that completely befuddles me. I use vacation as an example, but it is deeper than that.
It's your neighbor who goes grocery shopping in her pajamas then goes home, curls her hair and watches TV.
It's your aunt who thinks you are crazy for eating sushi but refuses to even try it herself.
It's your best friend, maybe, who saves and saves, and waits and waits, then finds that she's forgotten what she was saving for, let alone what she was waiting for.
The TIME IS NOW! DO IT!
Live like there's no tomorrow, because - there isn't! It's always a day away!
I am here to discuss a psychological phenomenon that seems to be spreading like an epidemic! I call it "Linear Living." My definition : Linear Living occurs when a person has lost all sense of magic and hope.
LLers are the folks who, upon hearing you are going on, oh I dunno, a Mexican Cruise, say "That's the vacation of a Lifetime!" To me, that implies that one can only (should only?) take that particular vacation once. Why? Who made those rules? I used a Mexican Cruise as an example because they really are not that expensive, and with the right planning almost anyone can take one, or two, or a dozen.
But, it is this kind of mentality that completely befuddles me. I use vacation as an example, but it is deeper than that.
It's your neighbor who goes grocery shopping in her pajamas then goes home, curls her hair and watches TV.
It's your aunt who thinks you are crazy for eating sushi but refuses to even try it herself.
It's your best friend, maybe, who saves and saves, and waits and waits, then finds that she's forgotten what she was saving for, let alone what she was waiting for.
The TIME IS NOW! DO IT!
Live like there's no tomorrow, because - there isn't! It's always a day away!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Book I am Writing...
I want to write a story that will seize and hold my reader’s rapt attention. I want them to remember and love the characters long after they’ve read about them. I want my reader to be able to clearly visualize each scene playing out in their head as if they were watching a movie. I want my readers to feel ubiquitous butterflies in their stomachs as they read and re-read the love scenes, causing deep tell-tale folds to appear in the bindings. My story will be neither sickeningly sweet, nor unbelievably spicy. It will not be historical, with awkward sentence phrasings; neither will it be contemporary, only to become out dated a few years after it’s published. The story I want to write will be timeless and beloved by millions.
And, it is also a dream.
But, we are discussing here the kind of story I want to write, not the kind of story that I am writing, which may or may not end up falling into any of the above mentioned parameters. I realize with trepidation that undertaking the task of penning one’s first novel is a daunting process, comparable to stripping naked and standing on stage in the middle of a theatre of your peers. Often, its enough to make one want to give up, put their clothes back on and go back to sitting comfortably in the audience, casually flinging either tomatoes or roses at the next poor naked soul to appear on stage (as if your opinion were gold). But, one must not give up, and neither can I!
The novel that I am currently whipping up is one cup political intrigue, two cups monsters, one half cup conspiracy theory and a whole bag of romance. I am carefully mixing all of these ingredients, and will bake them as long as necessary with a bit of dry humor and a few mixed nuts. With a little luck I should end up with something worthy of a bake sale, at least.
And, it is also a dream.
But, we are discussing here the kind of story I want to write, not the kind of story that I am writing, which may or may not end up falling into any of the above mentioned parameters. I realize with trepidation that undertaking the task of penning one’s first novel is a daunting process, comparable to stripping naked and standing on stage in the middle of a theatre of your peers. Often, its enough to make one want to give up, put their clothes back on and go back to sitting comfortably in the audience, casually flinging either tomatoes or roses at the next poor naked soul to appear on stage (as if your opinion were gold). But, one must not give up, and neither can I!
The novel that I am currently whipping up is one cup political intrigue, two cups monsters, one half cup conspiracy theory and a whole bag of romance. I am carefully mixing all of these ingredients, and will bake them as long as necessary with a bit of dry humor and a few mixed nuts. With a little luck I should end up with something worthy of a bake sale, at least.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Waianapanapa
I also wrote this piece for my Fiction 101 class. The assignment was to describe the most beautiful place we had ever been to.
-
The first time I saw it I was on vacation with my parents. It took nearly half a day to drive there, though the road to it was filled with many splendors along the way. As a matter of fact, “The Road to Hana” is known as one of the most beautiful roads in the world. The journey is the road, for many, but for me, what I found at the end of the road was the most beautiful.
I stepped out of the sticky leather back seat of the rental car (why would a rental car have leather seats on Maui?), and stretched in the warm, clear sunshine. The parking lot was small, the asphalt dotted with potholes, and painted with uneven white parking lines, which everyone seemed to ignore. At the end of the parking lot was an overlook, and we staggered toward it, our legs rubbery from sitting and our stomachs growling for our picnic lunch that was neatly packed away in an ice chest. But, as we reached the lookout, I looked down upon an earthen paradise; a magical, fragile masterpiece created by the hand of God himself. I had never seen anything as beautiful in my entire life, and I immediately felt a spiritual connection with this beach.
We made our way down the path that led to the beach, and stood in wonder as our feet sank into the billions of small black pebbles that made up the warm bumpy carpet beneath us. The sound as the aqua colored waves crashed onto the pebbles is almost indescribable. It was like the rhythm of a thousand steel drums beating at once, followed by the crashing of a thousand cymbals in unison. With each thrust of water, thousands of pebbles were upturned and shifted, replaced by new pebbles. In the distance, a humpback whale breached.
Later, as we ate our lunch on a picnic table near the parking lot, a small white dog walked out of the jungle to greet us. We shared our lunch with him, snapped his picture, then watched him disappear back into the jungle. It was only after we returned home from this trip did I learn that Pele, the Hawaiian Goddess of Fire, is known to have a small white dog as a companion. It is a good thing we were kind to the mysterious stray white dog!
I returned to this beach a few years later with my husband, and was so excited to share this place with him. The second time I set foot there was even more magical than the first. When we arrived, there was a drizzling rain, so we sat in the car for a bit. Soon, much to our luck, people started leaving. It seemed as soon as the parking lot emptied, the rain stopped, and we had this paradise almost completely to ourselves. The gray clouds hung low and heavy in the sky, and the air smelled of fresh, cleansing ions. The seas were calmer than they had been my first trip, but on this day we were blessed with the presence of sea turtles frolicking happily in the water. We watched them from above; their jeweled shells gleamed in the water and were as large as coffee tables. They waited for each wave, and then dived beneath it, almost as if they were playing a game.
We did not get visited by a stray white dog on that day, but I believe it is because I passed Pele’s test the first time. I would like to think that she blessed me because when we got home I found a black pebble embedded deep in the sole of my shoe. I figure, if I didn’t know I was taking it, it was a gift from her and I will treasure it; a small token to remind me of my moments in paradise, at Wai’anapanapa State Park on Maui.
-
The first time I saw it I was on vacation with my parents. It took nearly half a day to drive there, though the road to it was filled with many splendors along the way. As a matter of fact, “The Road to Hana” is known as one of the most beautiful roads in the world. The journey is the road, for many, but for me, what I found at the end of the road was the most beautiful.
I stepped out of the sticky leather back seat of the rental car (why would a rental car have leather seats on Maui?), and stretched in the warm, clear sunshine. The parking lot was small, the asphalt dotted with potholes, and painted with uneven white parking lines, which everyone seemed to ignore. At the end of the parking lot was an overlook, and we staggered toward it, our legs rubbery from sitting and our stomachs growling for our picnic lunch that was neatly packed away in an ice chest. But, as we reached the lookout, I looked down upon an earthen paradise; a magical, fragile masterpiece created by the hand of God himself. I had never seen anything as beautiful in my entire life, and I immediately felt a spiritual connection with this beach.
We made our way down the path that led to the beach, and stood in wonder as our feet sank into the billions of small black pebbles that made up the warm bumpy carpet beneath us. The sound as the aqua colored waves crashed onto the pebbles is almost indescribable. It was like the rhythm of a thousand steel drums beating at once, followed by the crashing of a thousand cymbals in unison. With each thrust of water, thousands of pebbles were upturned and shifted, replaced by new pebbles. In the distance, a humpback whale breached.
Later, as we ate our lunch on a picnic table near the parking lot, a small white dog walked out of the jungle to greet us. We shared our lunch with him, snapped his picture, then watched him disappear back into the jungle. It was only after we returned home from this trip did I learn that Pele, the Hawaiian Goddess of Fire, is known to have a small white dog as a companion. It is a good thing we were kind to the mysterious stray white dog!
I returned to this beach a few years later with my husband, and was so excited to share this place with him. The second time I set foot there was even more magical than the first. When we arrived, there was a drizzling rain, so we sat in the car for a bit. Soon, much to our luck, people started leaving. It seemed as soon as the parking lot emptied, the rain stopped, and we had this paradise almost completely to ourselves. The gray clouds hung low and heavy in the sky, and the air smelled of fresh, cleansing ions. The seas were calmer than they had been my first trip, but on this day we were blessed with the presence of sea turtles frolicking happily in the water. We watched them from above; their jeweled shells gleamed in the water and were as large as coffee tables. They waited for each wave, and then dived beneath it, almost as if they were playing a game.
We did not get visited by a stray white dog on that day, but I believe it is because I passed Pele’s test the first time. I would like to think that she blessed me because when we got home I found a black pebble embedded deep in the sole of my shoe. I figure, if I didn’t know I was taking it, it was a gift from her and I will treasure it; a small token to remind me of my moments in paradise, at Wai’anapanapa State Park on Maui.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)