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This blog is a wide variety of things. Most titles are prompts I have followed. |
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This journal is a wide collection of things. Some of it is just a free flow of thoughts. Some of it is from Earl's 31-Day Challenge a long time ago. The rest is from given writing prompts that I have found around the Net from various groups to which I belong. It's not often that I rant about life in general, but you will find some of that here as well. Things here are mostly prompts I have followed. Maybe you will find a prompt that inspires you. Welcome to my blog! |
| It is interesting to me, how difficult this NaNo has been at times, as opposed to others. It may be because I was not as prepared for this one as I have been in the past. This is my fifth NaNo, with four previous wins. One would think the fifth time would be as easy as the previous. That hasn't proven to be the case, though. I did NaNo Prep this year, and that helped a lot. But, as I started writing, I met a lot of people I didn't know were a part of my story. Then, I didn't know how, exactly, they fit in. Now that I know everyone and I know who lives and dies, so to speak, the writing is getting much easier. For instance, today I wrote over 3,000 words without really even thinking about it. I think part of what helps is that I am working on three different parts of the story at the same time. I'm in three different scenes in three different chapters, but they all tie in together. When something happens in one, it changes all of them. I hope everyone else who is NaNoing their fingers to the bone is having great luck! The days were we sit, glaring at the blank screen for hours are made so much better by the days, like I had today, when the word count flows in little to no time at all. good Luck all and Happy NaNo! |
| My earliest memory... although I'm unsure if it is truly my memory or one made up from what I was told and stories I heard of the time when I was a young child... I suppose there are a lot of memories like that. I truly thought it was my own memory until much later in life when I read the headlines and advertisements in the local newspaper. It happened just as I turned four years old. Could I truly remember that far back? To this day I cannot tell you whether it is my memory or if it was later implanted, or if it is something my imagination later concoted... although I have a difficult time believing that to be true. It was in the early 70s and the dead of winter. We'd finished eating dinner and my mom helped me change into my baby blue footed pajamas. There was something wrong between Mom and Dad. There was tension, but I knew not it's origin. Shortly after dinner Dad went to the garage, a strange thing to do in January when the temperatures were in the 20s. But, he said he had work to do. I wanted to go with him, but he pushed me back and shut the bottom of the old Dutch door, telling me he had to work and I needed to stay inside with my mom and sister. I heard him putting on his big winter boots and parka, but I wasn't tall enough to see over the Dutch door and down the three steps to the landing leading out the back door. I had to know, though! I had to know what type of work could be so important that Dad would not be inside with us when it was cold and dark outside. I reached up and tried to get my small hand around the door knob of that old door. My Mom pulled me away and told me it was time to go play. My big sister tried to get me involved in a game of some sort - I'm sure it was Barbies or Fisher Price people... "little people" we called them. "Beckie, do you want to play little people?" I can almost hear her nine-year-old voice to this day. I wasn't content to play, though. I'm sure I tried, although I don't remember it clearly. How I got out to the garage, I have no idea. Did Mom carry me? Or did I somehow get out of the house on my own? I can't believe that to be true. Mom was far too diligent for that. But I can imagine that I threw such a ruccus that she carried me out, just for a minute, to see what Dad was doing. I'm sure that I sensed she was scared. I didn't want her to worry and I didn't want Dad to be mad. Little did I know that their feelings had nothing to do with a fight between the two. They both felt two different things about the situation they found themselves in. They both believed in what needed to be done, but it was a scary time. When I got to the garage I would not leave. I remember Mom holding me by the back of my pajamas and sliding me into the snowsuit that she had made for me. It was obvious to her that I would not be leaving the garage until either Dad was done, or I was so worn out that I fell asleep. I watched intently as Dad drove nails into big pieces of colored paper... that's what I thought it was, colored paper, wrapped in plastic. He was nailing the hard colored paper to long spikes of wood - the spikes Mom used to keep the pea plants growing toward the sky in the summer. Mom explained to me that Dad and the men he worked with were on strike. She told me that his boss was being mean to them and that it wasn't fair. I know I had no idea what that meant, but the words seemed ominous, thinking back on it. Dad told me that it meant he was not going to be working, but that the union would do it's best to help us. I didn't know who the union was, but Dad gave "the union" a name - Jimmy Hoffa. Whoever Jimmy Hoffa was, he was going to help us until Dad and his boss could figure some things out. Dad told me it would be a "long row to hoe", an expression I grew up with for years after that, but that it would get figured out. He told me that he would make sure it got figured out. But, until then, it might not be the best time. I remember him trying to explain that money would be tight. I think I remember not caring. I didn't, of course, have a firm grasp on anything that was happening - but I did know a few things: I knew that Dad felt really strongly that he and his friends at work were not being treated right. I knew Mom agreed and, although she was scared (and, as an adult, I can truly understand: with two small girls, a house payment, etc.), she knew Dad was right and she would support him. I knew we'd figure it out together.. which is weird, because I was so young. I learned a lot, even at that age. I learned that it is always important to stand up for what you believe in (even if you're in footed jammies and your mom is mad at you for being so stubborn). I learned that what people seem to be feeling may not be the underlying truth. I learned that adversity is not necessarily the worst thing, and that it can make you stronger. I learned that perserverence pays off. Every time I look back at that cold night in our rickety garage... I remember a happy time that had no business being happy. I remember two kids who thought their life was awesome when other kids might have run crying. I remember two parents who were as up front as our ages would allow... and even more so... but who never let us worry or feel bad for ourselves, no matter what happened. Dad's union eventually settled the strike, of course. And he also eventually went on to a better job, one he retired from some years back. I won't get into a political discussion about unions or their usefulness now versus their intent at their inception. That is not the intent of this blog entry. My only intent is to relay something that I remember, or think I remember, that truly changed who I am today. Without adversity, one cannot truly shine. |
Last weekend, I lost a good friend Rixfarmgirl   . It made me really think about how fragile life truly is. "Here one day, gone the next", as the saying goes. Missy will be very sadly missed on this site. I know she touched a lot of writers' lives. I also know that she touched the lives of a lot of kids (and adults) over her years of teaching. She was always positive and upbeat and emails and chats with her were always full of fun and full of life. My heart is heavy with her loss, but she was such an inspiration. And she will continue to inspire me.Rixy (MIssy) was instrumental in my decision to become an instructor at New Horizons, and I will go live with my class in the winter term. When I was asked to create a fiction writing class, I was excited and fearful at the same time. I wasn't sure that I would be able to match the quality of an instructor such as Rixy. She immediately put my mind at ease and her faith in me and my abilities made me realize that I can do this and that my class will really help writers to hone their craft. I hope this to be the case for all of the students that I will spend time with over the coming courses. Rixy was just one of those people that made you strive to reach your full potential. She was a great woman and I will miss her dearly. She always had faith, not only in me, but in my writing. And as I move into another NaNo season this fall, it renews by desire to become a publidhed author. I have three novels sitting stagnant in my port right now, so this NaNo will be my fourth. This is the year that I resolve to at least get them out in the big, bad publishing world and shop for a publisher for them. And I will do that in memory of Rixy, a.k.a. Missy Estes. Rest in Peace, Missy. You will be greatly missed, but thank you so much for inspiring me and so many others. We are better people having known you! |
| I never thought, before today, that a keyboard could make that big of a difference. Let me back up a bit. At first, I thought that my beloved Netbook, on which I accomplish all of my writing tasks, was dying. It's been a good run of just over 2 years, and I've used it heavily. Although I was saddened, I thought it was probably time. Funds dont' provide for a new one right now, and fixing it, I thought, would prove to be more expensive than a new one. As luck would have it, it was just the keyboard that had gone awry! A trip to the local Office Max has me back up and running on my favorite little red machine! It is interesting, though, that a keyboard can make such a difference in thought pattersns. I've had an idea for a new novel for a while now, but I haven't really been able to get much out about it. I had a basic idea and a couple of characters, but not much more. And I've sat on this idea for a while now. But now, with this new keyboard, it seems to just spring to life. Now I have more than a basic idea and 2 characters. I have 3 different regions and 2 completely differnt species of "people" who poulate those regions. I have the history of how they were all split up and what happened to cause the animosity and current social standing bewteen the two races.... I have a full story line; and it's one that I can work with and grow! Apparently, my new remedy for writer's block? Buy a new keyboard that feels and acts and sounds differently than anything you've had before. I don't know that it wil work every time, but it certainly has worked for this writer - at least this time! |
| Thanks to the PDG Blog City, I've decided to get back into this blog. It sat dormant for quite an amount of time, but now I will resurect it. There are a lot of things here, some really good things, as I look back on it. It's a general mix of good and, well, not so good. I'm sure that will continue to be the case as time goes on. Sometimes I just have things on my mind that need to be said. Other times I am truly inspired when I come to the page... er... computer. Either way, I look forward to reading the other blogs in the City, and I think I will find inspiration from those as well. I count myself as lucky for being asked into this group, and I hope that perhaps something I write will inspire another. Write On, All! ** Image ID #1783816 Unavailable ** ** Image ID #1608589 Unavailable **     ![A sig given to me by [Link To User ba_satish] by Angel Army Writing Buddy!](https://www.writing.com/main/images/action/display/ver/1237778187/item_id/1541605.jpg "Write2B [#1541605]
A sig given to me by [Link To User ba_satish] by Angel Army Writing Buddy!") |
| amazingly moldable human beings. We are all a product of our past experiences and our environment. I think this is magnified where children are concerned. As adults we already have an established systems of beliefs and things that have and have not worked for us in the past. This is less and less true as for children at younger and younger ages. That being said, I have to relay a story that I experienced the other day at my local Wal-Mart. I don't think many people would deny that it's easier, sometimes as a parent, to just give in to a child's wishes. We've got enough on our plates as it is. But, oftentimes, we all see children that have more than they would ever appreciate and are still asking for more. In this instance, I had to say something to this father and child in the store - because I have not really seen this in a while. The father was truly instilling the value of the dollar on the child, and the child was taking it very well. I know this happens, and I don't write this to offend anyone who does this with their kids. I just want you to know - if you are one of those parents that still makes your kids work for everything they get - the general public will notice and will acknowledge your efforts! I was looking at Nintendo DS games. This father and son came up behind me. "This is the one you wanted, isn't it?" He said, pointing at a PSP. "Yes" was the boy's simple reply. "Well you know, you do have your birthday money, but you're going to need more than that to buy this." "I know, Dad." "You'll have to do a lot of yard work this summer to pay for it." At this point I believe, in my head, that the father is about to purchase this item for his son and then hope the work will get done over the course of the summer. "Dad," the young boy asks, "Do you think you have enough work for me to do that I could afford it by the end of summer?" "I'm sure we can find enough," was the Dad's reply. It warmed my hear to see this interaction. I engaged the boy, for a very short time, in what games he would play on his new PSP. He told me, then, that summer was no time for a PSP anyway because there was too much to do outside. He just really wanted to have one by winter so he had something to do when it was too cold to be outside. I told his father what an incredible young man he had on his hands. I almost wanted to give the kid 10 bucks and tell him to put that towards his PSP.. but I knew that wouldn't be acceptable. It reminded my of my youth. Yes, my parents paid me too well when I was working toward something I really wanted that and they had the means to simply buy me, but I knew I had to work for it. Looking back on it, I had to do dishes and fold laundry and rake the yard and haul fire wood for two months in order to "buy" my Dad a hunting dog for Father's Day when I was six (I don't think that really covered the $350 price tag, but that's really what I wanted to get for him, so my Mom made it happen). When I wanted the biggest, baddest boom box money could buy (I may be dating myself here, but it was super-sweet at the time!), I babysat for my neice for the whole summer before I could afford it... and I still had more money than most kids I knew. I think it's that kind of thing that builds a stronger kid, and a stronger person. My older sister babysat me for two entire summers before she could afford the 12-speed bike she wanted.. and, believe me, babysitting me was no easy task! Children area amazing little people that always have something to teach. They will teach you to laugh at yourself. They will teach you to cry at things to which you've become jaded. More important, they will teach you the value of spending some time teaching, and that dreams are never out of reach. |
| ...rearing it's head in limited quantities these days, it seems. Self control used to mean that even though you were mad, angry, depressed, anxious, hateful.. whatever, you found a way to deal with it that didn't involve hurting anyone else. I understand that this economy is the worst that some people remember. I get that. I just don't get why some people feel the need to take it out on other people. Why do fathers shoot their entire family and then themselves... because he has lost his job and is about to lose his house is not an acceptable answer to me. There is the old adage that you always hurt the ones you love, but I think this takes it a bit too far. I also understand that the human mind is a very intricate set of wires and mazes and it can be set off at any time for any reason. I just don't get the senselessness sometimes. I don't really watch the news much anymore. It's not because I don't care - it's because so many people are going too far. I understand the people are hurting. I understand that they may not see the light at the end of the tunnel. My situation is not the best, either, but I know that my family and few close friends are going through the same things. We'll find a way to pull out of this. All is not lost. Brighter days are coming. I know that is hard for people to understand and realize. Maybe for me it is because many years of my past are what I would call the darkest days of my life. So I don't have enough money right now to do everything I want to do. We are starting a small business right now and, let me tell you, it's not easy. But every day that I wake up is a chance to make a difference in my situation. I can't give up now. I've come to far and been through to much to roll over and die (or kill) now. Speaking of self-control, if more of us had it, we wouldn't be in the situations we find ourselves in. I don't, in any way, mean to offend anyone, but if most of America was not living well above its means, we would not have most of the problem that we are seeing now. If people were not depending on credit to make the world go around and simply doing and buying what they could afford....well, it would be a different world entirely. If I'm making $20K a year and someone tells me I can afford a $600K house because they have this cool deal for me, and I take it, only to find out later that my payment adjusted and I can't afford it, then I am to blame. If someone tells me to invest in these condos because I "can't go wrong", and the economy takes a dump, I should have no more of a right to whine about it than someone who lost their money in the stock market - which I was told was unsafe, and that instead I should put all of my money into some condo that hasn't even been built yet in the hopes that someone would take it off my hands as soon as the building was done and I would reap some amazing profit. And don't even get me started about the fact that McDonald's coffee is hot.... .Hmmmmm... self control. I guess I should look into that myself.     |
| Tonight at work we were discussing the 1980s in general. Of course, there were very few of us there tonight who were adults or almost adults at the time (okay, I was one of two). That lead to a discussion about what we would change if we could go back to that decade and the decisions we would make differently. The 80s, which I commonly refer to as the decade of synthesizers, spandex and excess, were not kind to me. In fact, if that particular decade never would have happened, I think I would be okay with it. There are a lot of reasons for that, which I won't go into here. Then again, 1990 was not my shining year, either. I got married, probably against my better judgement. Why, one may ask, would I get married if it really were against my better judgement? My only answer (and a weak one at that) is probably "because I just lived through the 80s." At any rate, my staff, sans one this evening, was born in the 80s, so they couldn't really contribute much to the conversation, but the other "old foggie" and I discussed what things would be like if we could go back. I stated that I would have probably gone into the military, as I had planned (I would have been in Desert Storm.... looking back, that may have been better than my marriage... and maybe even lasted longer), rather than stay here and get married, etc., etc., etc. He said he would have stayed in the military. We looked around at the restaurant and solemnly realized we could both be "retired" by now. Then I got to thinking. We are all a product of our experiences. Not only do I like my life now, I like who I am now. I would not be who I am without having gone through all of the... well, interesting? Horrific? I'll go with "interesting" things that happened to me over the years. I guess, with that in mind, if I could go back in time... even knowing what I know now, I really couldn't change much. Everything was a learning experience. My parents, I'm sure, would wish that I wasn't such a slow learner at times, but that's okay. I feel bad that I put them through certain things, but that's okay, too. My mistakes are part of what makes them who they are as well. Five years ago, I may have wanted to change it all. Ten years ago, I'm sure I would have changed everything. Now, though.... I wouldn't change a day. I guess that's what life's all about... getting through everything you have to get through to get to the point where you feel like this. It was such an interesting conversation, and one that made me really think about life, so I thought I'd share it here. Thanks for reading! |
| My classes at the New Horizons Writing Academy just started, and I can honestly say that I love them all. I think each class will be a great experience for me. However, the Tell Me A Story class, I think, will be such a great trip for me to take, that I decided to write a blog entry about it. In our first lesson, we were asked to come up with three different tales that would fall into each of the four categories: fables, parables, myths, and legends. My biggest resource for the start of anything I undertake is wikipedia. I could have spent hours (and probably still will) just on that site alone jumping from one article to another and to many pages off-site. I wasn't one of those people in school who took Greek Mythology or classes like that. The Lit class I took in college (and, yes, only one) was called Shakespeare and the Human Condition.... it was almost more of a sociology class than a Lit. class. It bridged Shakepsearean times with the world today and drew parallel lines as far as love, hate, revenge, greed, and so many other human conditions go. So, my point is, that this class is giving me a reason to do research on things that I "wish I knew" already. I know Zeus and Apollo and Aphrodite and such, but I couldn't tell you who is supposedly the child of whom or anything really about any of those stories. I've always envied my sister for her knowledge of such things, but never taken the time to really think too much about it all. There always seemed to be something "better" to do, if you will. Also, these fables and whatnot are so ingrained in society, that I think it is very important to research them further. Aside from being a writer (and I think the research serves a great purpose there, too), I want to know more about these things. I suppose that is the typical writer's brain, though. I was fortunate enough, at a young age, to have access to so much folklore, though, and I am grateful for that. My Mom worked at a community college as an administrative assistant for the "Native American Office". They had an incredible library of Native American stories and works. From the age of 7 or 8, in the summers, I became the "librarian" for that library. I am not sure that a book was ever returned that made it to the shelf without me cracking it open. I would watch all of the filmstrips (okay, I'm dating myself now!) on Native American culture and read as much as I possibly could of the Chippewa culture. I thought it was fascinating. I attended Pow Wows and learned to make a birch bark canoe and tan a deer hide. Sadly, I no longer think I could accomplish either of those tasks, but it was so wonderful through the wide-open eyes of a child. I think it is these memories, and the people I met during those times, that make the Tell Me A Story class so intriguing to me. If anyone reading this hasn't checked out the New Horizons Writing academy... maybe they should. You might find something that rekindles a lost flame in your writing! |
| I'm writing today just to clear my head about a new "idea", and I use the word lightly, that the powers that be in my state seem to think is the latest, greatest thing. When gas prices spiked last summer, people drastically cut down on their driving. Myself, I was wondering, "who are these people and where were they going before that they could cut back millions of miles of driving?" (but I digress) My point of this entry is that... now that people in the state can actually afford to drive, the state wants to add extra gas taxes! We already pay over 40 cents per gallon in gas taxes. I may be wrong, but I think we're one of the highest... or we used to be. I don't live in an area where public transportation is even an option. If I were to take a cab into town, it would cost me $20 for the cab... and that's our only means of transportation other than our own vehicles. For most of the state of Wisconsin, public transportation is not an option. Basically, a higher gas tax would simply penalize us for going to work... and you don't even want to know the going rate for wages around here! Back in the day, I remember this push for a while for the U.P. of Michigan and Northern Wisconsin to become their own state. Now, it was a crazy idea, and I'm not thinking anything would ever come of it, but, now that I'm older, I truly understand the impetus behind it. For both areas, the taxes paid are, by and large, sent down to the big cities in the lower parts of each state: Detroit area for Michigan, and Milwaukee, Madison area for Wisconsin. So, honestly, why shouldn't the two of us combine and become our own state? We would, by far, be the poorest state in the union, I'm sure, but at least our tax money would stay where we need it. At least our focus would be on us, rather than on our "well-to-do neighbors to the south." That's all I can say on the subject. I'm too riled up to go on. If I have offended anyone... well, come up here and try to make a living and then tell me who's better off. But please, please, don't tell me you agree with this higher gas tax idea. It's just not right. Big oil is already making record profits... and I don't think the state should be involved in legalized extortion. We're tapped. We all need a break. We don't need higher taxes on anything right now... especially a much-needed resource! For those of you who were driving those thousands of miles less per year because of gas prices.. shame on you for being so wasteful to begin with. That's all I can say. |
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