I'd rather hang out with James, Carly, Carole and Joni...

I guess I'm just an old fart. Driving around today with the radio playing, Taylor Swift was singing, and I started thinking about today's music and how out of touch I am. There are so many teenyboppers/youngsters on the air now; most of them are unfamiliar to me and those I do recognize just rub me the wrong way.

Flipping the dial, I sighed. It was James Taylor singing Carolina In My Mind. Love it! Such a soothing, melodic, comfortable kind of song. Instantly, I was transported back in time and a flood of memories came rushing back. My friend Karen loved that song and she's the one who introduced it to me. I knew Fire and Rain and You've Got A Friend, but not Taylor's earlier songs. I grew up in the sixties and seventies when James Taylor, Carole King, Carly Simon, Joni Mitchell and others ruled the airwaves. These were my musical heroes and I think they always will be.

My sisters often tease me about my taste in music. "Why do you still listen to all those old songs?" they ask. Well, because I like them. And they have meaning for me. And special memories.

I'm very fond of singers who are also songwriters. That's multi-talented in my book. I suppose some of today's singers are both, but there's just something missing in the lyrics. There was a certain poetry in those songs from the late sixties and early seventies, and I miss that.

So I'll just cherish and keep the old CDs, albums, and tapes I own and replace them if they wear out, break or go missing. I'm growing older with Carly, James, Carole and Joni and I find their company very warm, friendly and familiar.

"ain't it just like a friend of mine to hit me from behind"

"yes, I'm goin' to Carolina in my mind."

Snip, snip, snip...

I am working on my novel for the National Novel Writing Month competition. Competition in a sense because I'm not actually competing with anyone but myself. This year I hope to finally complete my 50,000 words by the end of November.

So the following is a passage from my novel. I've been playing around with it, tinkering. We are not supposed to nitpick at this point, but I can't help it. After I finished reading the wonderful novel, Water for Elephants the other day, I found myself looking at my own prose differently, scrutinizing each line. The copy I borrowed was the large print version, and now when I close my eyes at night, I see big words running across the canvas of my dreams. Very strange.

This passage from my novel is pretty self-explanatory.

Standing before the mirror, April checked herself out. Her hair needed brushing so she removed a brush from her purse. As she swept it through her hair, a dim memory surfaced of her mother brushing her hair when she was little. A fond memory for sure, but one of the only good ones she could recall. Most of what she could remember was just a vast amount of time spent alone since her mother often neglected her. Alone in her room, she found solace in her books and drawings. And, of course, her imaginary friends. April stopped brushing and stared at her reflection. Her mother had told her she had beautiful hair, the kind men would admire one day. Her mother had the same kind of hair and primped for hours whenever she was going out. April was too young to know where her mother went at night. She thought perhaps her mom was a waitress at some cocktail place, but didn't know for sure. All she knew was that her mother went out night after night instead of being there to help her with her homework or talk to her or spend any time with her.

I've just gone over this passage again, making a few more snips. I keep finding new things to fix.

So what's your writing method? Keep fixing as you go, or wait 'til later?

NaNoWriMo...

Whenever I read that little abbreviated copy, I immediately think of Robin Williams as Mork in the old show Mork and Mindy. His trademark expression, "Nano nano" helped make him a star.

But participating writers know the above abbreviation stands for National Novel Writing Month. The goal: write a novel in a month. I've given it a shot for the past two years. The first time around, being a NaNo virgin, I didn't make the required 50,000 words by the end of November. It was much harder than I imagined. And I tried to do the unthinkable--write a good novel, one with a plot, character development, scenes that made sense, and sparkling prose. I edited as I went along, as I usually do when I'm writing. I guess that abbreviation should be more like "Nuh uh, nuh uh", as in "don't even try that." Why? Because stopping to edit and change things around takes time. In order to write 50,000 words by the end of the month a writer has to write approximately 1,666 words per day. Who has time to think, plan, and edit on a schedule like that?

So I failed at my first attempt. But I did learn some things. Sitting down to write each night requires dedication. I turned off the TV and secluded myself from my family members. No matter how much I wanted to run into the living room to find out what was so funny or what they were talking about, I didn't budge from my chair. And I found that the words flowed along, night after night, or usually did. Sometimes I got stuck. Then I got panicky. How was I supposed to complete my 1,666 words for the day if no words popped into my head? Sometimes I skipped scenes too hard to write. I'd go back to them later. Can't think of an interesting way to describe a character? I just threw in some "blah blah blahs" to fill the paragraph.

The second time around I believe I was dealing with illness and then family stuff. I still didn't complete the 50,000 words.

This time around I'm staying on track. I'll get this sucker written one way or another. It will be very hard to avoid fixing things since I was trained to do that in my job as an editor. I'll just have to shut one eye and keep typing.

The words will not be gems, but more like rocks. That's it--a bag of rocks.

So excuse me now. I've got some rocks to collect.

With a little luck...

I was discussing the notion of "luck" with some friends the other day. There are those who feel the good things that happen to us are a matter of hard work, perseverance, a positive attitude, etc., and those who feel it's simply a matter of good luck. I know Oprah thinks it's the former of these two. I've heard her say so on her TV show. I know I've always been cynical about this topic.

I'd like to believe hard work, setting goals, etc. will lead to dreams coming true, but I've never experienced it myself. While Oprah can claim these things are responsible for her being who she is today, I still say that luck plays a part in it. I hold fast to the belief that many, many people work hard in life, struggling to accomplish their goals and dreams. Let's take the example of a job interview. Let's say there is a good job in a given company, perhaps a copywriter for an advertising agency. There's only one job, but 50 people respond to the ad. Obviously, the decision maker has to weed out some candidates to get to the top 3 or so. Let's say three highly qualified candidates interview for this ONE position. One person will get the job; the other 2 will not. It is my contention that the person who is hired was LUCKY. If all three are equally qualified (for purposes of this discussion), luck has to enter into it.

And some people believe that a higher power is responsible for their good fortune in life. They pray to God for help, for good luck, for better health, etc., because they believe (perhaps) that happiness, good health, and success are beyond their own control. Or at least, they believe that God can help steer them in the right direction. I have no problem with this type of belief. My point is simply that some people use prayer as a way to try to make their goals and dreams become a reality. Let's say the person who got the job in the example above had prayed to God: please let me get this job! I guess he or she would believe that God heard that prayer and granted it.

But what if all three had said the same prayer? Two would be feeling a little let down.

So what do you think? Are some people in this world just luckier than others? Are some people doomed to fail over and over again but they never really know why? Does hard work pay off eventually for everybody? Is there some master plan for all of us in life, but it just takes some of us longer than others to figure out what that is?

What do you think?

The Things Left Behind...

Inspired by an anecdote on another writer's blog, I got to thinking about the things we leave behind.  How many of us inadvertently leave something important somewhere and either never get it back or go through hell trying to get it back?

My husband has a bad habit of forgetting his baseball caps in public places.  Just recently he left one behind at the movie theater. When we got back home he asked, "Did I have my hat with me at the movie?"  We both pondered that for a moment.  Then he said, "Yes, I did.  I think I left it on the seat."  Oh well.  We weren't about to drive 30 minutes back to Lincoln just to fetch a baseball cap.  He has others.  And now, I suppose, someone else is wearing his hat.

A number of years ago I'd visited a fast food place for lunch during my lunch break from work. Having only a half hour alloted to me, I got busy eating my food.  I'd draped my new jacket over the back of the chair and never gave it another thought.  It was a warm day and the jacket wasn't really needed. When I glanced at my watch and saw the time, I panicked.  Got to fly back to work since some nosy person would notice if I was late.  I just grabbed my handbag and took off.  Eventually at some point during the day I realized I'd left my new jacket behind.  I called the restaurant and spoke with someone who didn't seem too concerned; he told me the jacket would go to their lost and found area.  I made numerous calls and even returned to the "crime scene." To make a long story short, the last attempt I made to get my jacket back I was told that the supervisor took the jacket home with her.  I never got it back.

Last year at Christmastime I was a scatterbrain shopper who rushed from store to store, frantically trying to do everything in one day.  (grocery shopping, mall shopping, drugstore, post office--you get the idea)  On my final trip (grocery store), when I paid for my groceries, I whipped out my billfold, placed it next to the credit card swiper machine and pulled out some cash.  After paying the clerk, I grabbed my grocery bags, tossed them in my cart and rushed off into the outside world.  Later at home when I wanted to check my receipt, I opened my pocketbook.  Hmm.  The receipt was there, but no billfold.  The billfold is sacred of course since it holds all of my cards--driver's license, credit cards, all kinds of important stuff.  It would be a MAJOR inconvenience if this billfold could not be recovered!  I searched all over the house until it dawned on me--I'd taken the billfold out at the grocery store and apparently had not stuck it back in my pocketbook. I'd left it at the register where ANYONE could just pick it up and take it with them. Oh shit!

But this story has a happy ending. I raced back to the store, the store manager spotted me, the wild-eyed, crazy woman searching for her billfold, and flagged me down. She knew me by sight since I practically live in her store; she'd found my billfold right after I'd left and knew I'd been at that particular register and she tucked it away safe in her office.  Whew!  I dodged the bullet this time around.

I've also left my keys on a city bus, my driver's license at the bank (and amazingly they did not call me to tell me I'd done that), my umbrella at a restaurant, my winter coat at the hospital, and a pair of black panties at a former boyfriend's house (don't ask).

So how about you?  Have you ever left something important behind?

True Beauty

Okay, my final blog post about the colors of autumn.  I just need to embrace the beauty of fall before it slips away.

It's just so beautiful out there each day; sometimes I wish it would last all year long.  But then again, perhaps it would get tedious seeing the same artwork painted across the landscape day after day.

I was thinking about it the other day, the beauty of nature, how each season holds its own special beauty.  Spring gives birth to flowers, the beginning of the seasons.  We get to see everything in bloom.  Summer gives us blue skies and lots of greenery.  Fall is obviously known for bright, beautiful colors.  But how about winter?  I thought about that one for a while.  With its bare branches and loss of color, what could be beautiful about winter?  And then I thought of snow.  Whiteness has its own special beauty, blanketing trees, houses and landscapes.

So, let's celebrate fall while it's upon us.  Here are a few more samples of the awesomeness of autumn.

The colors of fall

Today was very windy, leaves swirling all about, so I thought I'd better capture a few more images on camera before the trees are bare.

I found this group of trees surrounding a nearby fishing pond; they called to me as I was driving past.  I thought, "Oh, I've got to take some pics of those on my way back."

It was a bit overcast today, so the photos will reflect the lack of sunlight.  Still, I couldn't resist the colors.  In the next few days I'm hoping to get over to County Road where I saw some beautiful yellow leaves.  Just hope they haven't all blown away!

Oh, and if you click on one of the pics, you can see the larger, clearer version.