Side effects. There are good ones and bad ones. Second hand smoke, not so good. Oxygen, good. Did you know that writers emit their own side effects? And I don't just mean books.
You might be a writer if...your family suffers from symbolismus. Analogisia. Or, the worst ever, metaphorimia.
Serious, serious ailments, believe you me.
I've been a writer for a few years now, but it wasn't until recently that one of my daughters finally erupted with a bad case analogisia.
We'd just come back from Spring Break. My daughters and I had visited their godparents in Charlottesville, VA. My husband and I had lived there for five years around the time our first was born. I would still love to move back. I love the outdoors there.
While we were there, we had a great time. We went hiking at lots of different parks. Went up to DC and got our very own DC Cupcakes. Saw the Air and Space Museum. Did the Mount Vernon and Ash Lawn thing. We were everywhere. Did tons. The girls loved it.
They loved it so much that when we came home my youngest crawled onto my lap one day after school, and started crying. Uh-oh.
"What's wrong, sweetie. Do you miss Charlottesville?" We all missed C-ville. Our friends. The works.
"Mama," she sniffled. "Charlottesville is like Dragon Wishes and home is like Rope 'Em."
I should have seen the signs right away. The word "like". The commonality of books vs. places. It was analogisia for sure.
But I'm just a writer not a critic. I nodded and came up with my surefire mom response when I had no clue, "Uh-huh."
Not exactly Shakespeare, I know.
"Gees Mom," she said with an exasperated tone. "You know, Dragon Wishes is a middle grade novel."
[my middle grade novel]
"And its gots lots of stuff in it. Rope 'Em is a picture book."
[um, yeah, my picture book]
"It's shorter. Not as many pages of things happening. That's what home is like. Do you get it now?"
Um, yeah. Got it.
I wrote it down, too. Because, as you know, good writers borrow. Great writers steal. But that's a different post.
So now I watch for the telltale signs of secondhand writing. She's already exhibited a few others. Making up her own words. Geroninball. Yeah. Gotta love that one. Editing my work. Don't love that one so much. She's tough!
So beware writers out there. Your family members may have already come down with any or all of these pesky ailments. The only thing you can do is be prepared. Keep paper and pen handy at all times. And family members, be forewarned.
The effects of writing are serious. They get under your skin. Change the way you think. The way you talk. Make you...dare I say, into a writer!
You know that one place (or maybe two) you've lived in that, from the moment you got there, just felt like home?
I've lived all over the Midwest, East Coast and Western Europe, and as luck would have it, that place, for me, is Charlottesville, Virginia. Every time I get back, I feel like I'm home. It's funny, too, because I spent the five most difficult years of my life there. Difficult because I was writing a dissertation, and, for me, just about every other challenge I've faced in life has been a thousand time easier than that gut-wrenching, sleep-depriving, paranoia-inducing academic obstacle course. Still, Virginia turned out to be the perfect place to do it.
My husband and I made really great friends there. Friends we still keep in touch with although we've been gone now for (gulp) ten years. And the air has just right smell to it. And the food, just the right taste.
So when I was invited to speak at the Virginia Festival of the book in C-ville this year, I was ecstatic. The kids were ecstatic. It was like a second Christmas in Spring.
Except for the trip out. It was...what is the right adjective here...insane? We missed our connecting flight in O'Hare due to weather (I'm not sure what kind of weather because it was in the 50s and raining, but that's what the airline was claiming was the cause of delays and the reason they didn't have to try very hard to get us out until, say, next Spring). Pandemonium ensued. It was two weekends ago, the first weekend of Spring Break in the Midwest, and everybody was trying to get somewhere. Let's just say that it was a minor miracle we were able to get anywhere near Virginia before I'd aged another year. I think the gods of aviation must have intervened because before my birthday dawned on Sunday, we were at my brother's in Chesapeake.
My kids were then subjected to the usual, learn American history firsthand routine. I took them the Yorktown, Jamestown, and colonial Williamsburg. It rained, but it didn't matter. We were too excited to be back in Virginia. Then it was off to Charlottesville (C-ville to townies and students) for a week of school visits. My kids spent the time with their godparents and old friends, one of whom took them hiking two days in a row.
When I asked my kids if they were having an okay time, what with my being away all day at schools, my ten year old looked at me and said, "Are you kidding? I would have come here without you!"
Needless to say, the week went by way too quickly, and it was suddenly Saturday morning and I was off to the Festival. Red letter day. Got to see old writing friends, talk on a panel with them about setting in kidlit, schmooze, meet lots of authors I'd never met before, and round the evening off with a dinner at a cozy tapas joint in town (where we all learned to never order the tu
Michie Tavern, Charlottesville, Virginia
Recently, when my parents were visiting from Hawai'i, we drove out to beautiful Charlottesville, Virginia.
Our main objective was lunch at Michie Tavern -- an 18th century colonial rest stop serving Southern specialties based on historic recipes. I had been to Charlottesville several times before, thoroughly enjoying Monticello and the University of Virginia campus, but this was our first time at the Tavern. I thought it would fun to dine near the homes of Jefferson, Monroe, and Madison. Very presidential!
Michie only does a buffet lunch; people wait in line and enter the restaurant at the right of the building. The two hour drive was definitely worth it -- take a look at the Bill of Fare:
Colonial Fried Chicken
Hickory Smoked Pork Barbecue
Murphy's Biscuits
Michie Tavern Corn Bread
Black-eyed Peas
Green Bean Salad
Southern Beets
Stewed Tomatoes
Cole Slaw
Potato Salad
Garden Vegetable Soup
Crispy Peach Cobbler
The fried chicken was so delicious, we all had seconds, but then we were too full to try the peach cobbler for dessert. No matter, I purchased a Michie Tavern Cookbook (cookbooks are my favorite souveniers), and made a batch the other day.
Though they call it a "cobbler," I would call it a "crisp." I always thought cobblers had a pie crust on top. Anyway, there's a pancake-like batter that you pour into the bottom of the baking dish, then you layer the peaches over that, and finally sprinkle the topping over all. Absolutely heavenly!
CRISPY PEACH COBBLER
especially for Sara Lewis Holmes, peach lover
BATTER
1 T softened butter
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 egg, beaten
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup milk
TOPPING
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 T melted butter
2 T sugar
2 T flour
1 cup oats
3 cups sliced peaches
To make batter, cream butter and sugar with mixer in small bowl. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. Set aside. To make topping, mix all ingredients except oats. Add those last and stir until mixed. Butter 2-quart casserole. Pour in batter. Spoon peaches gently on top but do not stir. Sprinkle topping over mixture evenly. Bake at 350 for 45-60 minutes until topping begins to brown and batter is set.
Yield: 6-8 servings
Note: If using fresh peaches, slice and simmer in saucepan over low heat until peaches are tender. You may add 1/4 cup sugar if peaches are not ripe.
~ from A Taste of the 18th Century by Paxson Collins MacDonald and Cynthia Marie Conte (Michie Tavern ca.1784, 2006).
*Freaky cool sidenote: While the cobbler was baking, I got the munchies, so I reached for my new favorite snack: Paul Newman's Alphabet Cookies. My new game is that I grab a random handful from the bag to see what words I can spell, just in case the powers above are trying to send me any cryptic messages.
Guess what letters came out?
Acckkk! I scared myself!! I mean, what are the chances?
Here are some things I saw in the Tavern giftshops:
18th century writing implements,
period garb,
fine wines (lots of vineyards thereabouts, thanks to Mr. Jefferson),
and self-adhesive mustaches with matching eyebrows. I mean, you never know when you'll need these, right?
All in all, a lovely day.
Margaret, James (my most faithful blog reader), and me!
Side effects. There are good ones and bad ones. Second hand smoke, not so good. Oxygen, good. Did you know that writers emit their own side effects? And I don't just mean books. 
.jpg?picon=910)