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Despite his diminutive size, Elliot’s obsession was to become a cowboy hero.

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Frantically preparing for the L.A. SCWBI conference on Friday! It’s always down to the wire with me. Guess I love the drama!

Anywho, this little guy will be accompanying me to the conference in the form of a picture book dummy. He’s got a lot more confidence than I do, so hopefully he’ll keep me calm.

I am ridiculously obsessed with this book, French Women Don't Get Fat.  

It all started with a few, ahem, extra pounds from my holiday baking extravaganza. As motivation to get back on track, my sister and I decided to do a Biggest Loser contest for 8 weeks. Biggest loser wins a gift card to B&N. After day one of small portions and celery sticks I was extremely depressed. I said to myself, "Self, I can't do this for eight weeks." I was perusing my library for helpful tips when I found this book.

It's all about enjoying your food, savoring the flavors, exploring with spices, eating variety, eating seasonally, seeking out quality ingredients (1 small piece of quality chocolate vs a Snickers bar). And there's recipes! And lots of French thrown in, for that Je ne sais quois. But it is muy magnifique! Now I want to learn French, cook French food, and visit France. And be svelte and fit and sophisticated.

Now where did I put my beret?

An obsession is a terrible thing to waste. That’s why I indulge myself in it as often as I breathe during the day. Well, quite often anyway.

My mind tends to bombard me on a continual basis about so many things that sometimes the overload causes mental awareness shutdown. What is awareness shutdown?

That’s when a mental question smacks the consciousness so hard that all other considerations, including where the person happens to be located, falls away. The person is left grappling with the various aspects of answering the question. Only that wrestling match exists until a resolution comes forward.

Case in point: Why do people feel the need to run on freshly seeded lawn, leaving gouging footprints behind?

I asked myself that question as I returned this afternoon from the Laundry Room. Do such people fear that they’ll leave behind no other memorable marks on this Earth? Are they trying to copy the “Footprints in the Sand” poster that most people recognize? What is their motivation?

Doesn’t sound very important on the face of it, does it? To someone like me, though, it begs significant consideration, since my obsession is writing. And all things relate to the written word, as all writers, whether of prose or verse, know. Without knowing the character’s motivation, predicting future behavior becomes chancy at best, abysmal at worst. Besides, that simple seeming event could birth a great little story.

For example: Rennie looked back along the line of his footprints. Rennie’s lip curled up at the corner. Deep divots in the freshly seeded lawn showed his progress. He’d wait for his father’s reaction to this before planning his next bit of revenge.

The motivation behind the character’s behavior reveals something about both the inner workings of said character and about his relationship with his father. In other words, dual purpose sentences emerge from one act.

Here’s another stray looking for a home.

A few days ago I watched part of a Food Network show where pastry chefs competed to take the rank of greatest pastry chef alive, or some such title. The episode’s challenge of the day was to create a fantasy masterpiece, capable of flying (the final test of the creation,) and do it with only one major ingredient – sugar. They could use water and food dyes, as well.

For those who don’t know what they were making, it was sugar glass. Sugar glass is that marvelous concoction that looks like glass, colored or clear, that is used in the film and theater industry to simulate the real thing. It’s also used for break-away bottles for bar fights and glass windows that will have people thrown through them, etc. Costs very little to make, can be recycled easily, and doesn’t hurt anyone in the process.

While I watched a few minutes of the process on that show, I began asking myself questions. I know what it’s used for in show business. Anyone with a candy thermometer, plenty of sugar, and patience can make it with practice.

I asked myself about the illusory quality to all things in the everyday world. Given the state of art today around the world, Photoshop capabilities to crop, blend, restructure, etc. the photos we see, and what we’re shown on TV, how much of what we see is actually real? Do we now live in a world of total illusion? Can we trust our eyes with anything shown u

As some of you might have read today in the New York Times, 85-year-old Gloria Vanderbilt has a new novel due out next week. It's called Obsession: An Erotic Tale, and it is, in the words of Charles McGrath, "the story of Priscilla Bingham, the widow of a Frank Lloyd Wright-like architect who, after his death, discovers a cache of letters, wrapped in magenta grosgrain ribbon, revealing in considerable detail his secret, kinky sex life."

I'm just wishing that I had an imagination big enough for magenta grosgrain. Or that someone would say about me, as McGrath says about Vanderbilt, that I could easily pass for someone 25 years younger than my actual age. I'm thinking, Gosh, how does it come to be that my own Nothing but Ghosts, also due out next week, will have to compete with a Gloria Vanderbilt novel? (The thought of such a competition staggers.)

But then I'm thinking, Now wait a minute, just hold on. Does G.V. have friends like I have? Does she, for example, know Tirsa, who offered, today, to make me my very own dulce de leche cake? Does she have a friend like Amy, who is all the way across this country, scheming? Is Anna in her life, listening? Is Sherry out there rooting for her? Does she know Tessa and her brilliant paintings, brilliant life? Has Lenore offered to interview her (we're talking Lenore)? Has she been honored by Colleen, HipWriterMama, Melissa, Lorie Ann, Little Willow, Priya, Maya, Alea? Does she have Miss Em in her corner, or the curly Q, or Ed, or Woman in the Window, or Becca or LN, or Kelly, or Grete, or Lib, or PoetJaneS, or Sierra Rix, or TTTC, or...well, you all know who you are?

Does G.V. have, like I sometimes have, the stardust of your minds? Star glimmer?

I might not have magenta grosgrain. I might not have Minus 25 or the truly wonderful (I met him once, long ago) Charles McGrath of the New York Times. But I've got you.

And you is lovely.

I am a bout writer; I don’t mean I write about anything in particular, more that I am a lay about for much of the time. I shuffle uncomfortably and look shifty when students or people at parties tell me that real writers write every day. I don’t write about anything at all for months on end. I talk about writing a bit and I am guilty about not writing a lot. Then suddenly I am in thrall to a story and I can’t stop.

I am obsessed at the moment. I’ve written 40,000 words in a fortnight – a confession rather than a boast - as I don’t really see how it could possibly be any good. I wake up thinking about the story, I go to bed dreaming about it. When I walk the dog, my characters are arguing with each other in my head. Last night I had to go to bed early, exhausted and emotionally drained. I’d spent the day awash with real adrenaline as I tortured my imaginary protagonist.
I cannot rest until the story is done. There is no food in the house. I forget to walk the dog. I am avoiding social engagements; I resent time spent away from my desk. I am lost to this world.

I would love to claim the story is a masterpiece, but I’m obsessed not deluded. I know that once it is finished I will lose all interest in it. Obviously I will be disappointed if it doesn’t sell, but I won’t be devastated. I will keep it on my shelves in a binder for a while, but only until I need the binder for something else. It will be over for me, my passion will be spent the moment it is done.

Like a bout drinker, a bout writer is sober in between times. In a week or two I will wonder at the compulsion that gripped me. There will be food in the house and I will walk the dog conscientiously. I will talk about writing a bit and be guilty about not writing a lot – until the next time.

I know I said I was going to get to some childrens book art, but I've been obsessed with my etsy shop this week, and knitting, and all things "yarn".

So here we have another in the Yarn series.
5 x 7, done with Polychromos on illustration board, and matted.

Do you work like this too? Get obsessed with one thing for a while? Maybe its a certain subject matter, or media, or size, or genre.... I'd love to hear that I'm not the only one.
I have a couple more 'yarn' ideas that I have to do, then I absolutely HAVE to turn back into an illustrator for a while.

There’s just no accounting for taste. Or for obsessions. I can’t tell you why I’m obsessed with hermits, but I can tell you today is a banner day if you happen to be obsessed with hermits too—there are hermit videos on YouTube!

Yes, now if you’ve ever wanted to see the inside of a hermit cave you can click HERE, or if you want to stare into the face of meditating yogis in solitude you can click HERE. And really, who doesn't?

For more, search YouTube for “meditating hermits” and gasp as you see how many videos come up! Now I must pry myself away to start writing.

I just finished drawing this movie poster for the historic Artcraft Theatre. It's an old theatre in Franklin, IN and our poster company Mile 44 has teamed up with them to provide money for funding the theatre by creating a series of collectible, handmade movie posters for some of the theatre's showings. The posters in the series are sold in the theatre lobby as well as through our poster