Wednesday with the Aspiring Writer's Journal

I have been extremely busy trying to figure out to get the visitor from -- well maybe an escapee from somewhere, out of my house. You finally have to lock the dog safely in her pen, hide the jewelry and say, "Hey, you gotta go home. Preferably, your own home." Actually, her mother's home would work. But, I don't care, as long as it is not my home.

She was supposed to be around a lot but by the fourth day I realized that a lot had turned into not leaving and she was living with us. It is now day fifteen and she's on her way out. New house rule, NO ONE STAYS OVERNIGHT.

Okay, got that out of my system, and so I promised myself to open The Aspiring Writer's Journal, Susie Morgenstern, Book - Barnes & Noble and pick the first page I opened. I actually took the second page: April 22nd. "How would you define "clean"? The directions state: "Spend your day giving your room a good spring cleaning." Gheeesh!!

Forget that. It's spring. Why would I want to stay inside all day and clean? That's for fall, when it is getting cold outside, and you know you will be spending more time in the house for winter.

I first time I read it, for some reason, I thought it said, "Define your idea of clean." I like that one better.

Clean is the way the air smells when a breeze blows in the window of my not so clean house.

Clean is how my work surface should look inbetween projects.

Clean is how it feels to have a hot shower after you have spent the day canoeing and getting dumped. (In water, not necessarily by a boyfriend, but I bet that would feel clean too.)

Clean is how it feels to have a cool shower after standing on hot asphalt, under the August sun all day at a city street art fair.

Clean is snuggling a freshly bathed baby.

Have a clean day!

Writer's Journal Wednesday, or not

I thought it might be a unique idea to use December 4th’s actual assignment from Amazon.com: The Aspiring Writer's Journal: Susie Morgenstern, Theresa Bronn: Books
You are bored to death.
Why?
Where are you?
Who are you with?

First, we are going to presume you are not bored to death, since you are reading this highly informative, albiet wrongly labeled blog. Did I mention that I thought today was Wednesday the 4th? It is not, it is Wednesday the 3rd. Oh well!

Being bored is a concept that I have never understood. I think it is less of an issue when you have grown up with less: less entertainment, less things, less neighbors, less tv, less—actually no computer and no video games and no DVD movies to watch whenever you want.

I had a homemade wooden square box to put my toys in, as a child. I think it was about 3’x3’. Things that did not go in it were few. We received the bulk of our toys, for the year, on Christmas. Birthdays were basically a one-gift deal and Easter was candy and trinkets. I never felt deprived, but then I didn’t watch tv with the thought of “I should own all of that.”

Maybe, because I had the most wonderful toy ever. I had a half acre of safe land to play on. There were clouds, trees, flowers, clover, a ditch, a bit of a hill from the house, sandbox, and swings. And, if the weather was bad, I could go inside and read or draw or write. How could anyone be bored in such a paradise?

I just cannot imagine ever being bored, even yet.

Wednesday's with Writer's Journal - Ideas

Okay, if you really want to get technical about this, it is Thursday. So shoot me! It has become more important to work on my edit than on my blog. This is a good thing and I am sure you will all understand.

With both the Journal, for January 2nd (still not going in order) and my edit in mind, the question for today is: Where do your ideas come from?

I think we all know that anything in our life can turn up in our writing. My current project was inspired by my grandson’s lives and the issue they deal with from their past home life. Prior to coming to live with us, these three boys were living in a radical home, were barely, or in the case of one, not home educated, they worked a man’s job from a young age and the abuse ranged from just plain weird to horrific.

In attempting to interest the thirteen year old into learning to read, I let him watch the first two Harry Potter movies. He loved them and he related to Harry. All those Dursley’s had their equivalent in his previous home. When he asked me to buy the third movie, I told him I would do so after we read the books. So, we set off on a journey to catch up. I would read a chapter at night and he would haltingly read a paragraph. He would often ask for a second chapter. He was enthralled with Harry's world. Three books letter and we purchased movie three. By the end of the series he was reading chapters.

I cannot take all the credit for this. He is a bright kid and the public school system worked hard to catch him up. But, watching these boys deal with all the educational and psychological issues they have, from their past life, is what is inspiring my book. Plus, okay, I admit it, I miss reading to him each evening.

The tv was turned off and everyone at home would listen. So, it was a nice family entertainment. I tried getting him involved in Terry Pratchett’s books but, he is on to sixteen year old entertainment now and cell phones and girls seem to take more of his time. His twenty-one year old brother loves them and got me reading them, it is just not the same.

I am way off topic here, as I tend to do when I talk about these boys. But, they are an inspiration for me.

Wednesday with the Writer's Journal: fortunate or not?

I have been a bit distracted lately; elections and slander adds and the flu. Yes, we have the flue here.

I was ill Monday and we do not want to discuss how I was ill either; trust me on that. I then stayed up late Tuesday, trying to scry from CNN just who was going to win, right up until President elect Obama's acceptance speech. I made the big mistake Tuesday and took mom shopping. I was just not recovered, from my flu, and I had arms and legs of lead. I had to drag myself around.

While I was standing in Krogers (I had lost my mother and was too tired to find her), I heard a conversation between two men. They were discussing the one man’s wife; who had just come from her daily radiation treatment. When that ends, she will have chemotherapy again. That’s when it hit me.

I am so lucky!

And, that is what today is about. We pretend it is June 13th and answer the question: Do you think you are fortunate or unfortunate?

Well, first, I can rest up for a day or two and then work on exercising again. I do not have to go through chemotherapy or radiation or worry about survival. I remember what my brother went through, for two years, before he died. I am so fortunate not to be going through cancer.

I have a decent car; that I even love. I still remember driving the ones without air conditioning, working windows or mufflers.

There is food on our shelves and we do have a roof over our head; even if one little part leaks occasionally.

When I let the dog out at night, I can see the stars and hear the crickets and see the shadows of the trees in front of a darkening sky. In the daytime, I see the fall colors and, now green tomatoes, and the sad baby watermelons that will never grow big. I even finally have a pumpkin bloom. Later is better than never. Next year, I plant earlier.

My edit with Master’s daughter is working really well. She added three words to one page that are close to being my favorite three words in the whole book, and she has helped me cut the deadwood. Gotta give that girl a lot of credit!

I am looking forward to meeting Army grandson’s wife. I am looking forward to giving a big hug to Gaffer. I am so looking forward to Christmas at my daughters, where I feel like I am in a luxury hotel with fine wine and fine food and great company. We laugh a lot. A LOT! And, I get to spend time with the rest of the grandsons, up north.

The boys are doing well. EMT is graduating in June and starting to work in his practical training as an RN. He may join the military also for a savings on tuition. JRock’s grades are going up and we have found a guitar teacher we can afford. It is amazing how the promise of guitar lessons translated into better grades. Motivation folks! It’s the key.

And, this is really long, and I imagine everyone is very tired from partying all night, so that is another thing I am so grateful for. Not for being tired, but for living in a country that constantly evolves and improves itself. Where hard work counts more than the color of a man or woman’s skin. A country where we can vote and care.

Wednesday with the Writer's Journal - Lunch with an Author

Today’s Wednesday with the Writer’s Journal is from January 27th. I told you I was not going in order.

Which writer would you like to meet? And, since it is my dream, let us try "which to have lunch with?" I live near a small town with very few restaurants and even way fewer good ones. I went to Martinsville today, to take my mom to vote and we found the best Chinese restaurant I have ever eaten at. It was great. So, I'll take them there, or not.

Six months ago, i would have asked Stephen King. I think he is the greatest living author for characterization. Sorry, Mr. King, I am not a fan of your subject matter. I usually only read the first third of his book and lose myself in those fantastic characterizations. I would love to sit at lunch with him and have him describe the people around us. What a great class that would be.

I also have a few questions to ask J.K. Rowling. Namely, how did she keep it all straight?

Now, however, I would just have to say Terry Pratchett because I have this feeling that spending lunch with him would be much like reading one of his books. Since I have only started on the second one, with the great Turtle A'Tuin, this is what I am basing him on.

My reasoning goes like this: When I demonstrate portrait painting, the comment I hear most often is, “I don’t see those colors.” I bite my tongue before I can say, "Nah, Nah, Nah Nah Nah. Well, I do." Whether it is a function of my eyesight or my brain is unknown. I was finally diagnosed as having two eyes (gosh, that is a really good thing), however, they do not work together. When I was a wee little one, the doctor told me that I probably had double vision. I compensated for this by learning to use just one eye to see out of. Thus explaining the fact that my left eye will wander off, on its own, when I am tired. Thus, causing me to look a bit like Mad Eyed Moody.

It could also be an abnormal brain pattern, which I actually have. I have been hooked up to an EEG several times; enough so that I went to a planetarium with my head all wired up once. Those who went with me were less than impressed. Hey, I do not let anything stop me from enjoying the world.

Or, maybe I just see things others do not see. I do think that sometimes, when I will point out a pattern that looks exactly like a face to me and those around me give me that “There she goes again” look, that I do actually see the world a bit differently.

So, I think Terry Pratchett would be fascinating to spend an afternoon with. I imagine he jumps from subject to subject and that he must have such a wonderful view of the world. It would have to be a very long lunch, beause I am sure it would be full of laughs, and Chinese food.

Wednesday's Writer's Journal

It is again time for Wednesday’s Writer’s Journal

Based on Susie Morgenstern’s book, I pick a random page (sometimes the fourth random page) and Blog on it. So, here goes:

Okay, now this is why I do not always use the first random page. My first pick is February 29th: “A day to relax – but only if it’s leap year!” I don’t know. Is it leap year??

I think someone is trying to tell me something. Pick two was February 24th, “A day to let yourself go and do whatever you like!” Perhaps all of February is a day of rest??

January 30th: “Do you want to be president? Write a campaign speech.”

Instead, and since I make the rules, I can do this, I will not write a speech, I will just list my campaign promises. I can get myself into enough trouble this way. And, honest, I did not intentionally pick this. With the election days away and the fact that I have voted already, I have reached the point where I could do a day without elections, promises, slander and campaigns.

But, here is what is important to me:

I promise, being the average Jane, that I will surround myself with the brightest people in the field, as advisors.

I promise that I will do my best to see that everyone in this country has good health care.

I will have advisers looking at the programs Franklin Delano Roosevelt implemented and to get people working, including artists and writers, and I will implement programs to give everyone a living wage.

One of my programs will be to build some of the housing that college architects have designed for the homeless, so that everyone has safe shelter.

I will see to it that no elderly person, nor anyone, has to eat corn flakes and cat food. I’m not sure anyone does that anymore, as who can afford it? But, everyone deserves decent fresh food. Everyone does.

I promise a free college education for all; and all student loans forgiven. There has to be a way. Our future rests on the education of our children. College is a necessity now and should not be that costly.

So, we have covered health, jobs, shelter, food and education. What is the important issue to you?

Wednesday with the Writer's Journal

It is again the Aspiring Writer's Journal Amazon.com: The Aspiring Writer's Journal: Susie Morgenstern, Theresa Bronn: Books for Wednesday.

I am not following it like a journal, doing each assignment on the correct date. I tend to jump around for inspiration. Today, I landed (after only three tries) on October sixth, "Become an editor!" and critiquing a friends novel. I do not have a friend writing a novel, at least none that admit it. Master's daughter is working on Children's Picture books, but says it is slow going with all the rest that life is handing her.

As an art teacher, I know from critiquing student's work that it is always best to begin on a positive. So find something, anything that you can say that is positive. There are many sites telling you how to critique a novel, including: Writing a Critique of a Novel.

We have a little joke in our family. My mother often provides these types of jokes and once she was asked, by a fellow art student, for an opinion on the student's newest painting. Mother had a dilemma: to lie and say something wonderful about it or to tell the truth and hurt the ladies feelings. She paused for a moment, ostensibly studying this great work of art, but really thinking about what to say, and she came up with, "It sure is green."

Amazingly, this pleased the student, who went away smiling and it resolved mom's moral dilemma. It also became family code for 'ugly.' It sure does sparkle, glow, have big flowers, is bright, etc now replaced "awful ugly." There is always something positive you can say, if you look hard enough.

There are many ways to save a writer's feelings and give them information that will help them improve their work. We all started somewhere and usually that was at the beginning. I've always thought that anyone can learn to paint well enough for their own enjoyment, if they spend the time working at it. Like playing piano, it is the hours spent in practice that make the difference.

A "Just for Fun" Post, and now I shall hide.

This is the first time I am posting an identical post on this blog and on my personal blog: Savanvleck’s Weblog

Master’s daughter always gives the greatest gifts. I have received a Japanese tea set, a miniature Stonehenge (we’re still waiting for a Scottish fellow to time travel through), a circular knitting sock kit, complete with a neat bag, and “The Aspiring Writer’s Journal.”

Too bad she can’t give me a better memory, because I know there are more neat gifts, but I cannot remember them at this moment. They are always a delight and a complete surprise, and will be again when I find what I have done with them.

So, my inspiration for today, (“Ahem! Ahem!” She cleared her throat, commanding attention.) is a page in the Writer’s Journal, she gave me.

The assignment is:— Make up a story beginning with the following quotation-
“When Sleeping Beauty wakes up, she is almost fifty years old.”

I have changed the opening line, but the premise is there.

(Okay, I cannot believe I am going to embarrass myself this way, but what the heck? Here it is, complete with errors in punctuation and dangling participles.)
~~~~~~~~~~~

Sleeping Beauty woke from her near eternal sleep and gasped for air. My, how tight my corset doth feel. Hands above her head, she stretched—and screamed.

“Spots! What are these spots! There are brown spots on my hands and arms?”

Blankets flew as she surged to the mirror, her body half bent over.

“Kricky!” she said, being a fan of British blogs. “Oh my aching back! Heads will roll for not removing the peas under my mattress and, speaking of pees, I do believeth I am damp. What, in blazes, goeth on?”

Lines stared back from the mirror. These were the final insult as Sleeping Beauty, who was all of eighteen when she fell into her near eternal sleep, ‘twas now fifty. She lay sobbing into her pillow, for no handsome Prince would search for a wrinkled Sleeping Beauty, she feared.

In a far distant land by the sea, gallant Lord Viggo, some years younger but no longer a youth, lived. He could feel her sorrow and confusion.

“Hark!” He called. “I shall scry for the sound of sorrow I hear.”

And, scry, he did.

“She ‘tis a vision of loveliness to me.” He said as he peered into the water. “A woman of wisdom and experience. No petulant youth need I put up with. And, her smile sets my heart free.”

‘Twas but a journey half way cross the land, to the woods where the beauty lay sleeping and where he dried her tears and they lay on the swing of her porch and watched the stars for a near eternal life.
THE END

I shall go and hideth my head under the pillow now.