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Wearing a peacock necklace–a little special swag I’ll be handing out at UtopYA this year

I’m thrilled to be attending UTOPYA COn 2013 this year. It’s a miracle that I’m able to make it. I know we’ve all had tough times. Honestly, everyone I’ve talked to about 2012 has said it was the suckiest year ever. Okay, I know that suckiest isn’t actually a word, but there’s no other way to describe it. I hope 2012 wasn’t that way for you. I have to give a shout out to the many, many people who’ve kept me on track despite the dark times this past year. There aren’t words to describe how much your encouragement and unwavering support has meant to me.

While shopping the other day, I found this card at Cost Plus that read “It’s the friends you can call up at 4 AM that matter” – Marlene Dietrich. Srsly, if you can count even one person in the “4 AM friend category” you are truly blessed! Take some time to thank your 4 AM buddies today. I can speak from personal experience that you probably don’t thank them enough. And in the middle of it all this past year, when I didn’t think I’d ever write again, I had some amazing 4 AM friends to kick me in the A$$ and say, there’s beauty in the brokenness….now f-ing write about it. Well, I have. I just finished editing my first adult title called The Storytellers, about a group of writers whose stories all come true for each other. The Storytellers will always have a special place in my heart because it brought me back to what I love. I have much to be thankful for, one of which is the nomination of SHADOW SLAYER for Best Book Trailer of 2013. Working on this trailer is the first thing I did to try and find my way back to writing. I’ve always loved expressing my stories visually. This was just a natural extension of that. Here’s to a wonderful time in Nashville and to ALWAYS remembering to count our blessings no matter how dark life seems! <3

Last Wednesday night I went to an amazing benefit for a friend who's fighting breast cancer. Our friend called it a celebration of life. The party was a beautiful outpouring from a very close-knit community. The auction included paintings and pottery and a beautiful quilt and books and hand-made jewelry and stays at beautiful Big Sur cabins and day passes at Esalen and dinners at Ventana and The Post Ranch. And there was a wonderful band and dancing--old friends catching up. Afterward, I met up with a few new acquaintances and told them how heartwarming the benefit was. They'd read about it in the local paper and had heard of our friend. Then one of the ladies says to me, "You know, I talk to my breasts every day. I don't really say much. Just that they are important to me and that I'll take care of them."

Yesterday I drove back down to our old house in Big Sur to pick up what we forgot this time. Our friend Greg so sweetly set them aside. Every time I move I forget something. Ironically, it's usually something I can't live without. Last move it was my [and my mom's] wedding dress. Egads! How can you forget something like that?? There are reasons, believe me. But I won't bore you with them here. It's just interesting. Here's the list from this move: a squirrel sculpture [very cute btw], the cover to Joe's motorcycle, a weed sprayer, and two of my notebooks from my time in Big Sur from early 2008 to 2009. Guess which one I can't live without?

Which leads to today's question...[Apologize ahead of time, I'm not good at themes, apparently].

I love my yoga teacher Tay. I'm missing her class this morning as packing, schlepping and unpacking boxes seems enough of a workout today. Tay has a great way of centering me. She's always saying things like: close your eyes; don't pay attention to anyone else, what anyone else is doing, this is your own unique interpretation of the pose what you need to do here and now; yoga is connection.

It's our last day living in Big Sur. And Big Sur's gift to me has been connection. Connection with Joe, with the great people who live in this wild and wonderful place, with nature, with my here and now. Being fully present in each moment. The locals say that this is one of the places on earth that has a mystical vortex. And, I'd have to agree. Big Sur is very powerful place. A true character. We'll be back off and on over the years I'm sure. Today closes a beautiful first chapter in our life on the road and begins a new one. Just packed the car. Its full of stuff, the refrigerator isn't. Looks like tonight we'll be enjoying one of my favorite meals of a move, Whateveryagotleft. Tonight's version features: spaghetti sauce, artichoke hearts, smoked salmon, hummus, a lot of carrots and celery [not as bad as my tea hoarding but a close second], salad, milk, chocolate milk, a couple of eggs, some dates, and any sort of condiment you could ever imagine including mango chutney.

I'll close today's post with this [Warning: before clicking the link, be ok with the f-word] Ernie and Bert in a Boat youtube video that made me laugh SO hard I forgot all about burning the chocolate chips I made for breakfast this morning [a bit of burnt cookie smell still lingers about the house] and breaking every nail on my oh-so ugly, papercut-riddled hands.

Might be away from the computer for a few days. See ya on the other side, my friends.

Which leads me to today's question...

One of those nights. You know how it goes. Spent the first part of the night asleep trying to work out issues with the story I'm trying to tell. Trying to make the impossible possible. Tossing and turning until, I'm up. Really awake. I grab the glass by my bed. Gulp all the water down. Go to the kitchen open the refrigerator and pour some more out of the Brita. Amble back to bed. Pull the covers over me and stare up at the stars through our skylight. It's no use. I'm worried about my daughter. Can't get her off my mind. Want to make sure she's ok. Last time I had a feeling like this, exactly a week ago, she wasn't. So I shuffle out of bed and call her at 3AM, 11 AM in Italy. She's sounds great. Laughing, having a great time. I go back to bed. She's safe. I should be able to sleep. But, no. There's a new way to begin the story I have to jot down. There's things I can't forget to do in the morning. And I lay awake for hours. But, before morning comes, I look at the stars again. And in this little space of the gigantic universe, this little 2 foot by 5 foot slice of sky, I see the most beautiful, brilliant shooting star. It was the kind of shooting star meant for BIG dreams. The kind that meant to say that everything would be OK.

Which leads me to today's question...

The day we moved out of Ventana and into the wine barrel.





Moving out of So Cal, and coming to terms with my gaming and tea addictions [no photo of the tea I'm afraid, just too embarrassing!

Lots of both this week of the move. I'm remembering the first day we moved in here to the house in Big Sur, how crazy-tired I was and that I just flopped on the bed and fell asleep waiting for Oso and Joe to drive up with our stuff in the Uhaul. After packing up our entire house that took a whole day longer than we expected, properly disposing of all the hazardous waste, we opened a few kitchen cupboards to find tons of dishes and pans left unpacked. We were so bleary-eyed we just semi-tossed them all into the only box we had left and headed up north on our 5+ hour drive to our new home, about an hour longer than usual. And it really was surprising just how at home I felt here right away. I'm thinking about firsts because yesterday I painted for the first time in twenty years. It felt so good to paint again. I'm excited about doing more of it.

Which leads to today's question...

My friend Erin Gafill is the teacher. It will go pretty much all day from 10 to 4. Been a VERY long time since I painted anything other than a wall. It's simultaneously super scary and exciting.

Which leads to today's question...

Yesterday was a fabulous day. Very serendipitous. Joe and I have been thinking about how we'll celebrate our 25th Anniversary. We've talked about going away, very far away. Named different countries we'd always wanted to visit. Dreamed about what we'd do in each place. In truth, it would probably be more restful just to chill somewhere close. Not try and get away for too long, as that seems practically impossible these days. But, still we dream.

Then yesterday, we figured it all out. I was at the Spirit Garden, just looking at my friend Wawi's artwork when a lady asked if I worked there. I said I didn't but asked if I could help her find something. She said she was looking for Jason. A friend of ours who is out of town. I told her he wouldn't be back until tomorrow and she said "Well, tell him that Patricia from Bali came by." Really? Wow. I said I would and we struck up a conversation about Indonesia and that I really was curious about what it would be like to visit Java. She said she had never been and that there is some beautiful furniture in Java. She gave me her info and said that my hubby and I should stop by and stay with her in Bali and she would travel with us to Java. How cool is that? When I told Joe about it, he said great. Let's do it. I love him. Here's hoping we can swing that trip!

Which leads me to today's question...

Last night our good friend and neighbor, Rachel, had a party. It was sort of a going away party for us [not that we are moving that far away] and to welcome an old friend of hers visiting from Atlanta, a guy named Stanley. Rachel lives downstairs and came up saying they'd run out of wine. We walked down together with a bottle. Joe would bring reinforcements shortly. The sun was pretty lazy in the sky. I walked inside Rachel's place to find the home fires burning and a new friend and another good friend, Sylvia on the floor. The new friend had heaps of beautiful feathers, beads and shells on either side of her outstretched legs and was making beautiful earrings. Her painted jeans had been made into a skirt. When I asked if the feathers were ostrich, she replied that they were rooster feathers. Rachel put her earring on, beautiful, long flowing white feathers. Stanley said it made her look like Cher. We laughed. I said she'd need the mesh body suit. We talked about life and what was going on for all of us that particular day. I shared a harrowing story about my daughter Mx's trip to Morocco. But, that's her story and a post best left for another day. My new friend [her name is pronounced Wa-way], from Kenya, said a similar thing almost happened to her and her boyfriend in Africa. I told everyone there that I had prayed very hard the night before for all of my loved ones safety. Not really knowing why, just really feeling the need to pray. My new friend also said that she sat up the night before praying for safety for her loved ones too. I have to admit, I haven't really been praying as much as I should lately. Our new friend said she loved when women in her town would get together to string beads and talk about life. She gave me a beautiful strand from around her neck.

It was Sylvia's turn to put on her earring. My new friend asked what Sylvia could barter for it. Well, that's easy. Both Rachel, a wonderful cook, and Sylvia, and incredible astrologer, have amazing gifts they can use to barter. I, being a writer, felt, well, a little awkward. I mean it is a gift, a talent. I thought about bartering with a story. But, somehow it felt sort of flat. So when I saw an earring that I loved, I paid cash. Even asked her to make me another one they are SO beautiful. Have you ever bartered with a story? And why was I so shy about suggesting the idea?

Rachel asked me when we'd be having a party at our new place. I thought about it. Maybe over my birthday next month. Might be a good time. We won't have really moved in yet, so they'll be lots of room. I brought four copies of my first chapter of the manuscript down with me when Rachel came up to get me that night. It's the story that I'm going to be sending to agents soon. I wanted to give it as a present to everyone there who has supported me this year in my ups and downs. And, regardless, the story isn't a Big Sur story, but this place has given me what I needed to break through a major block for me. The total revision and edit of one of my mms. And for that I'll always be thankful.

Which leads to today's question...

Last night before bed Oso ran laps around our deck. We had no idea what was going on. It was so unusual for him to be lapping the large deck that runs the length of the house. He'd never done it before. We slid open the glass door and took a few steps outside. And there, sitting on the corner of the railing farthest away from us, a corner that sits easily twenty feet off solid ground, was a fat gray cat. I don't like using the word fat to describe her because she had a the kind of self-confident personality and depth of character that makes her so much more than her physical attributes. But for the visual, that's what she was. And with all of Oso's carrying on, with all of his running up to her to faze her and make her leap, jump, arch her back, do ANYTHING, there she sat. Her only reaction? Blinking her eyes. She simply confounded Oso. He didn't get her at all. And after a fair bit of more running around the deck. More running right into the very corner she so capably occupied, he stood at attention and simply stared. Then, before long, he laid right down beside her, curled up in a ball and fell asleep. They made fast, unlikely friends. So, who were you rooting for? Are you a dog or cat person? Or a bit of both?


Today's question.

The dirt road from our house to HWY 1 is out. Bad rain has caused it to rut real bad and the trucks that came up to take the tree off our neighbor's house did made it worse. I have to wait for the road to dry out from the rains before I can get down and back up to the house in my car. But, I'm going to chance it today. The Subaru can handle the road conditions though. Joe's driving that car because he's taking our runaway dog with him to work everyday now. Yesterday, there was no power along the Big Sur coast on account of a power pole blowing over in the winds. But our generator has kicked in. Had a guy over at the house yesterday morning trying to fix the water heater. I was so cold in the house yesterday that I made a big fire in the fireplace, but the fierce winds forced smoke down the chimney and forced me to open all the doors to let it all out. Yesterday I couldn't go anywhere or do what I'd planned to do. Will the car be able to make it up the drive when I get back home today? We'll see.

Which leads me to today's question...

Happy Earth Day!

In my bedroom there is a piece of plywood that's fixed to one of the walls. I've turned it into my memento board. Since the first day we moved in to the house here on the South Coast of Big Sur I've been tacking special things to it. There's a few drawings on the board. One night I was downstairs and Rachel, my artist neighbor [and fantastic cook], wanted to know what my book was about. She liked my story so much that she drew an illustration of it on the spot, right there on her kitchen counter. It would make an awesome cover. Her drawing inspires me to keep believing in my story. Keep writing. So, I took a push pin and stuck it to the board. There's another illustration of two bees beside it that my daughter drew when she was a little girl. They are the happiest bees I've ever seen and her drawing always brings a smile to my face. There's cards from friends and postcards too. From all over the world, sent from my daughter who's been away for a year and will come home soon. I love them all so much, but I'd have to say my favorite is of the Casa Batlló. [I guess it's no surprise the Gaudi is an inspiration to an aspiring author of magical realism.] There's a watercolor thank you note from two wayward travelers we housed and fed one of the first nights we arrived here. Another watercolor of the Point Sur lighthouse and a card from the ghost tour we took there last Halloween. There's a Christmas Card from my daughter who's now living in Florida. It reminds me of the Christmas caroling we did together when the kids were little. And there's another card from the International Short Film Festival that I look forward to every year at the Henry Miller Library.

When I attach something new to the board I'm always reminded of the movie Sabrina and how she comes closer and closer to covering David's picture. I love that movie.

Which leads me to today's question...

I've met so many people here that do interesting things to support themselves. There's a guy that I know who played softball with Joe on the Ventana softball team that parks his on HWY 1 and walks a couple miles up the mountain to his home. Been in his family for generations. He's a trail maker. I've met another local who is a beekeeper and makes honey. We talked about the terrible state of bees. And how he thinks there might not be any in a decade. My next door neighbor does astrology for clients who stay in the resorts here. She's working on my star chart this week. There are people who do nothing but their art and have learned to survive on very little, their art their food and shelter. Another neighbor is a fabulous cook and gets gigs cooking for parties here and people who want/need a personal chef. I've met fisherman and people who scrounge for chanterelle mushrooms and sell them out of the trunk of their car. Someone who hunts for jade and another person who makes jewelry.

Which leads me to today's question...

The storm yesterday was crazy. Very, very windy and rainy. I was lighting a fire in the fireplace/stove in our living room and heard this kind of crack-boom-crashing sound. Bigger than the time a branch fell on our roof during a previous storm and almost took out our skylight. Scared me so bad I broke the glass of the stove door because when I went to shut the door that's when I heard the huge boom of the tree falling. Thought it had fallen on our house, or in the driveway, but when I looked next door this is what I saw!

J lives there with his mom, who's out of town, so Rachel and I helped him get his stuff out. J was sitting at his computer when it happened. He was SO lucky, that top window is/was his bedroom! When we walked upstairs the roof had been punctured with tree branches, big, thick branches. Rachel and I hunted for tarps, she found a few and did an awesome job of creating a funnel to keep the rain flowing out of the inside of the house.

Which leads to today's question: What has surprised you recently?

As I sit here this morning a blue jay is perched on the deck caw-caw-cawing. They make SO many different sounds. There's a sort of a whistle sound they make too, not quite a chirp that sounds like "so-so-so." Rachel, our downstairs neighbor, is cooking up breakfast for her grandkids. The smell of bacon wafts up here. It's overcast, and the rippling gray sea disappears into the mist. But that's not the picture I wish I could have taken.

So yesterday I was in town all day. Running around from one place to another. Town has that rushed feel for me. We are so far away from grocery stores, etc. that when I go, I don't want to forget anything and find that I always do. But yesterday's errands were different than my regular ones. But that's not the picture I wish I could have taken either.

Every now and again Big Sur literally takes my breath away. The scenery is breathtaking and I find no matter how long I've lived here I never go a day without getting swept up in it's beauty. But sometimes I see things here that just don't look real.

And last night, on my drive from town headed south on Hwy. 1, the sun was setting in a bit of an unusual sky. The day had been clear and beautiful, but, by sunset a sort of white cloud layer had gathered leaving a clear opening for the sun to peek through. It's hard to describe how big the opening was, but I'd say several tall ships high. And in this cloud-filtered sunset right before the sun would peek thought, the whole coastline had this tangerine light cast upon it and just as I was about to drive over Bixby Bridge I slowed WAY down. A bride and groom were walking along the highway, and stepped onto Bixby Bridge itself. As there was no traffic in the oncoming land I gave them a very wide berth and wished I could have reached into my purse and taken a picture of them. She was dressed in a strapless Ivory gown that puffed out at the bottom and he was in a black tuxedo. I didn't see any crazed wedding photographer with them. They just walked hand-in hand-to a spot in the middle of the bridge were they could look out over The Pacific. That's the picture I WISH I could have taken.

Today's question is about moving.

After church tomorrow, we've been invited to a Pagan Easter Party. Hope you all have a wonderful holiday weekend!

Ever since we started living in Big Sur I heard about Big Sur jade. How it washes up on shore. How people go diving for it. One day, when we first started living here, I went into a tiny gift shop right next to The Spirit Garden. A woman named Helga was working there. When a piece of jade caught my eye, she and I started talking. She said, in a not-so-heavy German accent, that people here wear it for protection. I asked what people needed to be protected from and she said many things. Falling boulders come to mind.

It wasn't until yesterday that Joe and I actually found jade that the ocean had washed up on shore. We had some guidance from people about where to look. I met a wonderful man named Francisco, from Atascadero and he helped me in my quest. Told me the best places to look. Not to leave a stone unturned. He told me stories too. One was about the last time he went diving for jade and fished out in the surf. Two great white sharks swam up next to him. I asked what he did to drive them away. He said he just turned and pointed his spear at them, off they swam. He wouldn't go out in the surf yesterday, though. Too rough, he said. A friend of ours told us about a saying here in Big Sur, "If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space."

We were a little late meeting a friend for dinner last night. But, it was a total Big Sur reason to be late. We were jade hunting and lost track of time.

Ever wonder how your wonderful writing space can turn into a dark dank place where things can't get any creepier? That's where I am today. I don't usually post from the tax cave because, well, nothing very magical happens here. But today I'm breaking with my usual tradition of hand-wringing and paper-wadding to let you know that something really cool is happening in the world of writing out there in the great beyond. A world of writing and wonder, that I hope to return to very, very soon:

A Synopsis Critique Contest at Neverending Page Turner The wonderful Kathleen Ortiz is posting soon for the synopsis-challenged so that we'll be ready to compete. And, if I learned anything last weekend it's that my synopsis was, um, not-so-good. Which is great! I leaned what I need to do to make it sparkle before I send it out into the world, that world outside of my cave. I'll be visiting Kathleen's blog to get some extra pointers. So sharpen those pencils, or do those finger exercises and get ready for her synopsis posts over the next few days.

Doing taxes in a place as mystical as Big Sur is a little bit of a disconnect. I remember last year, we met a gal at The Henry Miller Library in May or June, at the International Film Festival Screening, who drove her 5th wheel up here so that she could do her taxes among the redwoods. Seemed a little loopy to me. I mean drive all the way up here to do taxes? As I hadn't quite hit the road full-time yet I couldn't imagine doing my taxes any place other than my office in my house back home. And now that I'm working on them for the first time among the redwoods, I understand.

Since I've been aware of my magic words, I've been keeping a weather eye open for posts that relate to them each week. Today I'm posting about a guy who palliates negativity and just generally inspires me. Big Sur attracts seekers and people who live a bit out-of-the-box [and usually in their cars with most old timers' stories beginning with, "So I lived a year or two parked among the redwoods."]. Last week I round a corner, on my way to town to get a haircut and I see this:







This sculpture is called ATTAINMENT


Meet the artist Kermit:



He's living the dream. A one-time industrial iron worker who decided to do something different. "No one has any money right now," he said when I asked him why he decided to swing by Big Sur. He hopes people here will be interested in his art. Check out his website. Came to Big Sur by way of Texas and Utah and many different careers.

Storm update: Was like the heavens opened up this morning and poured a river of water on the house and because that wasn't dramatic enough decided to throw in some hail too. Oso helped me take a shower, blow dry my hair, do the laundry and work all day. Wouldn't leave my side, poor guy, even though all the while he wanted out of this nosy, creaking, and thankfully not leaking, house!


By TwitterButtons.com

Got another break in the storm so I thought I'd post now, while the Internet is up and the power is [hopefully] plentiful. I know I promised these on Monday but I got distracted by the storm, and lack of power. No lie, yesterday, after I pressed "post" we lost power again. But the generator always kicks in just fine. Only thing is, if I'm working on my mms. I have to save constantly or risk losing tons of revision with the surprise outages. Learned the hard way, as usual, work on my laptop now in storms. When did I learn the hard way? During Nano, of course.

Here are today's magic words:

calabash: [1590–1600]–noun
1. any of various gourds, esp. the bottle gourd, Lagenaria siceraria.
2. a tropical American tree, Crescentia cujete, of the bignonia family, bearing large, gourdlike fruit.
3. any of several other plants having gourdlike fruit.
4. the fruit of any of these plants.
5. the dried, hollowed-out shell of any of these fruits, used as a container or utensil.
6. a bottle, kettle, ladle, etc., made from such a shell.
7. a tobacco pipe with a large bowl made from a calabash and usually having a curved stem.
8. a gourd used as a rattle, drum, etc.

zither: [1840–50]–noun
a musical instrument, consisting of a flat sounding box with numerous strings stretched over it, that is placed on a horizontal surface and played with a plectrum and the fingertips.

palliate: [1540–50]–verb (used with object), -at⋅ed, -at⋅ing.
1. to relieve or lessen without curing; mitigate; alleviate.
2. to try to mitigate or conceal the gravity of (an offense) by excuses, apologies, etc.; extenuate.

So, this morning lightening awakens me. I remember only a handful of lightening and thunderstorms in the close-to 24 years I've lived in California, 23 in LA. I get up, wrap the afghan around me and watch the show. Never seen a thunderstorm over the Pacific before. Mostly the flashes are so bright, I can't see a reflection on the waves. Too much fog, I think. But then a finger of lightening dives from the sky into the water and I see the sea churning in the bright white light. The surf so loud its hard to tell the thunder from the pounding waves. I think of what it must be like to be caught in a thunderstorm out at sea, far away from land. It must be breathtaking, and terrifying. I wasn't sure if lightening strikes over water so close to land. But, it does. Joe joins me on the sofa and we sit and watch the show until it passes to the north. When Joe leaves, Oso's inconsolable. Crying and pacing and wanting to lay his muddy, wet body [Oso took off in the storm last night and we couldn't find him until Joe corralled him inside before work] next to mine in bed. He jumps into bed a couple times, but I get him to settle down on the floor on some towels beside me. He has a beautiful view of the outside, the slamming rain the lightening. I pet him and tell him how safe we are in our "den." He calms and falls asleep. We both do and manage to get a couple more hours of sleep before we start our day. Beautiful blue sky and a turquoise indigo sea. Waves still pounding. Next storm up this afternoon, evening.

Got a break in the storm right now, and the Internet is back up. Generator has been on all day. Here's an excerpt from the 60-mile-an-hour wind/rain/thunderstorm we had, first of four, and what it felt like perched here on the Pacific.

"A rattle awakens me followed by a crash on the rooftop. Pine cone, I tell myself. I look up through the skylight. A tree's limb bows, not quite broken off. Its skeleton hand strokes the roof and then the skylight. Hanging and dragging this way and that, like it's thinking. Every little move a teeth-rattling sound asking me to pay attention. It scrapes the roof again and again and then, s*&^t! It falls. Right above me. Just missed the skylight. The noise so loud I run for cover, OK, maybe I just hid under them:)"

Powerful, powerful storm. I have a meeting to go to tonight, but would be returning home so late I decide not to go. Don't want to be stuck on the 1 late at night in this kind of storm. Joe was on his way to work early this morning and on his drive, right by the road to Pfeiffer Ridge a PG & E truck blew over on its side. Now, those trucks are pretty weighty. But the wind just tossed it over. Joe got out to help the guy. The driver was just fine. They both directed traffic around it for a while. Ah, the rain is falling again. Better hit post before...

[Just LOVE that Mike Tyson's movie beat out Meryl Streep's movie for the Golden Globe last night:) LOVED The Hangover.]



By TwitterButtons.com

discovering a dead body. Happened to my hubby last Friday. She's the angel I wrote about on my Tuesday Twist. Since she's already hit the local news and papers. Wow. Just, wow.

I call my hubby and ask if he can talk. Tells me he's walking the job. I say to call me later when he has time. He says, oh no, it's fine. I'm here waiting for the Coroner. Gulp.

All that's been going through my mind are images. Images of what the central coast of California looked like 3000 to 5000 years ago when our 30 year old angel lived. What her life was like. Thirty years was long time to live back then. She must have been smart and very strong.


By TwitterButtons.com

Speaking of angels, see Monday post "Seraphic," Joe and I were visited by one the other day. Only, I can't tell you about it. I really wish I could. But it's one of those classic writer things. Sometimes the tales you really want to tell, maybe need to tell, you can't for whatever reason. Maybe I can't, at this point, because I'm not sure its my story to tell, not yet anyway. What do you do about situations like this? Can you feel me bursting at the seams here? Um, ok. Maybe one day soon, very, very soon I'll be able to share what an amazing week we just had. Until then...

On a slightly humorous note, I am sick. Which really isn't funny, except for the fact that my dog thinks my cough is a bark that he loves to answer:)


By TwitterButtons.com

Yesterday, after my root canal, my dashing doc informed me that I have "unusual roots" and pointed to the x-ray of said tooth and told me my roots "talk to each other." I smiled. I have extra bones in my feet too, I said [which led to me being a writer, but that's another story]. He smiled. I'm a mutant. It's funny. And, I have to admit that I'm not shocked that the roots of my teeth "talk" to each other. Guess that's where all my characters come from:)

Feeling better than expected, in spite of my "unusual roots" which took a bit longer to canal then those boring regular roots everyone else seems to have, I floated out of the dentist chair and found Mx waiting for me, curled up with the Rob Pattinson Vanity Fair article. She handed me a teddy bear. It was the best surprise. And he's really fluffy too. The nice, soft kind of teddy bear. And I needed a teddy bear. I fell asleep with him last night, still wearing my glasses with my current read, The Ghost Sea, folded on top of me.

Teddy bear in hand, Mx and I went for a mani/pedi and shuffled over to the cinema in those girly pedi flip-flops you get after a pedi to see Nine.

Every writer should see Nine. It got the cold shoulder at the box office this holiday season because, well, there were SO many fabulous movies released this season. But, if you write GO. It explores the imagination and POV in ways seldom seen in cinema.



I often wonder why, with such an appetite for movies, I don't try and write a screenplay. I guess I know my own long-winded nature. Heck, my roots talk to each other. I don't think I'll ever have the talent to write a story in 120 pages and show, show, show. I guess it's the window into a character's mind that so intrigues me about novels and that movies can't accomplish in the same, intimate way. But, Nine comes close even if it was slow in spots. I felt that The Story Fairy paid me a visit during this movie and showed me what can be done with POV and its intimacy in movies.

When you move around a lot it's tough to "fit in" sometimes. Suddenly the people and the places you relied on for, oh, let's say fixing a broken tooth and finding plot holes aren't around any more. Or are at least, very far away. Of course there is email and and Skype [my new best friend] to keep in touch and while this works with writing buddies, it lacks the ability to preform dental work.

So, there are lots of changes. Lots of new people in my life. And last night I met a great group of children's book writers that are all seeking community and trusted readers for their work. We met at Bloomsbury Tea Room, which was charming. Great tea, great scones and great conversation. So important to have face time with other writers. And, as difficult as it can be sometimes to actually get to these meetings, I always am happy I meet folks trying to get their stories on the page. Met a couple other writers attending Asilomar, so that's fun.

This year of moving has helped me see the world with fresh eyes. Like that new kid at school. An outsider, in some ways. And I like to think it fuels my fiction in new ways too. Maybe gives a depth to my characters even as I'm scrambling to find places to get hair cuts, Christmas presents, etc. Of course it didn't take me long to find the theatre with the best popcorn [& movies] in town, coincidentally right by a pub.