P is for Practice Teenager
I have two children–a 9 year old daughter and an 8 year old son. I also have a practice teenager–Shaina. I highly recommend getting one for yourself because they add spice to your life and they are cheaper than real teenagers.
All the drama, none of the tuition bills
We first met Shaina through her mom–my daughter’s kindergarten teacher and later, my son’s first grade teacher. Shaina was this cute blonde 14 year old who called us Mr. and Mrs. Amsler and politely cleaned up the kitchen after dinner. She obviously adored my children who returned the favor. It was the ideal babysitting situation.
Then like kudzu, Shaina ended up weaving into our family on a molecular level. She eagerly offered to help paint the library when we remodeled. She came over for Buffy marathons and we deconstructed the show afterward. My husband tutored her on her SATs which she passed with flying colors. We started celebrating her birthday with a party.
Shaina has a close and loving family already, so we are not replacements for something that is lacking. We are more like the cool aunt and uncle. Or as I firmly believe, we are the family you choose–instead of the one you are born into.
Having a practice teenager has given me a glimpse into what the real experience will be like.
- I’ve gotten the dreaded call that announced she was sitting in the emergency room after a car accident
- She has brought us souveniers from her trips to France and in return, I cook her French food
- I’ve argued by text, losing when she is in a particular volatile mood
- I’ve loaned her clothes and shoes, which she looked better in anyway
- We’ve experienced cultural events together like the Transiberian Orchestra concert, Wicked the musical and all the Twilight movies
- We’ve made college campus visits when she was shopping for schools and college weekend visits now that she is at Purdue (Mark’s alma mater)
- I’ve tried to teach her to sew, to make baklava and to go to bed at a reasonable time
- We’ve loaned each other books and discussed them afterward
- I encouraged her to write a vampire novel during NaNoWriMo–even though she is studying to be a doctor (liberal arts at its best!)
Technically, I am old enough to be her mother (but I shudder at the memory of the boys I dated in my late teens.) She has been my training wheels for my own children’s teenage years. And I have been the honorary family member who sends cookies to her dorm room.
Who are your chosen family members?
O is for Organized
In theory, I am organized. But the same hypothesis suggests I am a perfectionist. Ergo, I should be organized and perfect. And I am anything but.
I am, however. a control freak. Therefore, I tend to lean towards organization to declare dominion over my surroundings, activities and output.
The Truth Behind My Organization Skills
- As a family, we are early for most everything. But getting out the door is not always pretty.
- My children are trained to organize themselves. They are responsible for getting their homework done, packing their lunches and getting their handouts returned.
- I alphabetize my spice rack and organize my books by topic. Both just save time.
- I have everything written down in a calendar. And I never throw my calendars away. I have 20 years worth stacked in chronological order. Ask me when our garage door was replaced or when the neighbor got a new dog and I can find the date.
- All my photos are filed and scrapbooked and I am completely up to date. I’m not bragging–I just have a system. I print photos 4x a year, I scrapbook one long weekend a year and I have a Best of album that is widely shared (instead of subjecting everyone to ALL my kid’s scrapbooks.)
- I retain massive quantities of semi-useless information: author’s names, passwords for defunct bank accounts, Target layouts for cities we used to live in… But I can not memorize the multiplication table beyond 7s.
- I have systems. When going on long vacation, I have an itemized list of clothing choices for all four family members assigned to the proper day. I sometimes even bag and label the day’s clothing choices (with jewelry and accessories.)
- Each book I write has a “bible.” This is a three ring binder of character sketches, plot lines, diagrams and editing notes. Each book also has its own file box which holds my workshop notes and past drafts.
- I write by egg timer. I am nearly incapable of writing without a timer ticking away.
Being organized and creative is an odd talent combination. It is as common as being creative and a perfectionist. But if give the choice, I’d rather be creative than perfect or organized.
What is your best organization tip?
N is for Normal
Everyone’s normal until you get to know them.
I so wanted to be normal.
In second grade, the night before Field Day, I imagined running the races and playing the games in anonimity with the rest of the second graders. But when the day arrived, my team laughed at the funny way I ran–along with the rest of the class.
In sixth grade, I wanted to have beautiful feathered hair like every else and to be asked to dance to a Journey song. But I spent the dances, crying in the bathroom with my curly, frizzy hair.
In high school, I wanted to do all the things my classmates were doing–attending Snake Dances, going to prom, taking the Senior trip and worrying about my peg leg jeans. But instead I worked at a jewelry store after school and every weekend, I got dumped to the prom (twice) and I worried about my family’s living situation.
The more I discovered learned other people’s exteriors, the more I realized it didn’t match my interior.
My mind works in spiraling circles, the internal dialogue never stopping. I can worry about problems that would never occur to anyone else. I have more hang ups than a coat closet.
But on a good day, I can pretend to be normal.
For the most part, I have given up wishing to be normal. I actually have a sedate, normal marriage with the two sane children. But my mind still works in crazy circles. I still have baggage that would cost thousands in carry on fees. And I get tired of pretending to know the rules of the games sometimes.
But if I were normal, what would I write about?
Are you normal? Why or why not?
M is for Must Reads
When my kids were babies, I read a book a day. As the supreme-book-picker-outer for two book clubs, I have to read at least 20-30 books a year to make my book club selections. And as a writer, I find it hard to read and write at the same time.
Conservatively, I would say that I read between 60-90 books a year. I tend to binge on them–eight in a week followed by two weeks of writing. Last summer, I took 17 books on my eReader and read them all on a six day cruise and three days of travel.
I love that I have friends from all over the country who still email me with book suggestions. Many times I have already read them but it is nice to see what books they think I would like. (Most of them deal with some level of dysfunction…hmmmmmm…)
Here are some of my favorite books, in no particular order:
Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
If you have not read this book, you have missed one of the literary greats. As a fan of multiple point of view stories, this is a shining example. The language is pitch perfect, the story is riveting and the themes are complex.
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant
My church-based book club read this book and it made for a fabulous discussion. A book about menstrual cycles in Biblical times is an arresting logline but the stories are unique. Based on Rachel and Leah from the Old Testament, its an interesting peek into catty women and their difficult relationships–fueled by PMS.
Phantom by Susan Kay
The oldest and least read on this list. I read Phantom in college, at the height of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical. It tells the story of Erik and Christine before and after the story we all know. I love it for its backstory and its exactly adherence to Gaston Leroux’s original novel, which was written as a police report. Brilliant!
Kindness of Strangers by Katrina Kittle
Katrina is one of my favorite authors of all time–and a good friend. Her book, The Blessings of the Animals is her most recent book and one I can wholeheartedly recommend to all audiences. Kindness of Strangers is my favorite though. It follows a young boy who has suffered sexual abuse at the hands of his parents. The story is not about the abuse though. It is about his triumph over it–scars and all.
The Help by Kathryn Stockett
A lesson in capturing voice, I walked through two stores while my husband carefully guided me around poles and other shoppers, because I could NOT stop reading this book.
Gods in Alabama and Backseat Saints by Joshilyn Jackson
Joshilyn Jackson is an online friend who was kind enough to take me along for lunch at a conference we attended. We discussed Joss Whedon, Indian food and revisions. I fell in love with Gods in Alabama–in part because of its first paragraph. I was thrilled then when she wrote a sequel of sorts in Backseat Saints. Both are excellent and you can read them in any order.
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
I just saw Sara last week at an event, where she discussed the upcoming movie, her research methods and her love of animals. Sara is one of the heroes of NaNoWriMo,having written three of her first drafts in the month of November. Water for Elephants has delicious twists and turns. I was convinced she had wrote herself into a corner until I read the end. Brilliant!
Still Alice by Lisa Genova
I have cried over exactly two books. This is one of them. Unfairly, Lisa is a bestselling author, a brain surgeon (!!) and gorgeous. I’d like just one of those traits. Still Alice is about early onset Alzheimers and Lisa wrote it from the patient’s point of view. Talk about an unreliable narrator. Alzheimer’s looms on my horizon and this book was both educational and terrifying. And in the end, it was heartbreaking.
The Guernsey’s Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
Clever and sweet, this book was published after the author’s death (Mary Ann). I mourn that we won’t have more books from her. Each of these characters come to life and still live on in my brain.
There are so many more to suggest.
What are some of your favorite books?
L is for Learning
I graduated from college, having touched a computer exactly three times. I remember touring the library my senior year, where they explained the internet to us but informed us that it was only for the librarians. And my first professional job–as a Marketing Manager–required the secretary to show me how to start Windows. (You had to type in “Win3.”)
Yet today, I make my living by helping design and brand WordPress websites, I write search engine optimized copy and I help businesses and authors launch social media campaigns.
I had to learn all of these skills on my own, through a variety of means. And even though I have been writing fiction since I was seven, I am still learning.
Neverending Learning Curve
A worthwhile question to ask yourself if HOW do you learn?
We each learn through a unique combination of modalities. The basic, recognized methods of learning are:
- Auditory
- Visual
- Tactile
- Kinesthetic
I can not learn through audio explanations. I lose most of what is said, and because of hearing damage, I didn’t hear most of it anyway. As much as I love the idea of books on tape and MP3 files, I don’t utilize them often.
I prefer to sit down with an expert and have them walk me through a process, explaining and showing the steps. But that is not always possible, or feasible for some topics, like writing.
I can absorb a lot through visual methods, even recalling exact page placements. Since I own an eReader and a boat load of book, I have been testing my comprehension between the two. I have to admit, I retain less reading an eReader.
But for something like writing or creating art, I think the only worthwhile method is DOING. I have learned more from my failed novels and stories than I have learned from a conference or a book.
Noting your own learning methods is crucial for taking your education to the next level.
What is your best modality for learning?
K is for Kiss
I am NOT a poet. I wrote horrid, melodramatic poetry in high school and occasionally, I will write cornball poems in my husband’s anniversary or birthday cards. But one of my characters decided she was a poet.
Lorelei (from Dismantling Spider Webs) broke off an affair with her lover after her husband died. While she mourned the husband she had demonized in her head, she also struggled with the lingering after effects of her extramarital affair.
Lorelei wrote this poem:
Good Night Kisses
As slumber edges away rational thought Wisps of my lover’s last kiss visit Pulsing tension on my bottom lip, quiver Neck is measured by tongue widths Ear lobe warms from tingling frost bite Eye lids are sealed with a smooth seal Kisses–phantom and fading echoes–say goodnight.I have no standards to judge poetry. If it is bad, feel free to blame Lorelei. If there is any worth, consider it a fluke.
Are you a poet? What poems speak to you?
J is for Joss
Joss Whedon is the only man who regularly breaks my heart because I let him.
Back in 1997, my husband insisted on watching this silly show called “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” I ridiculed him mercilessly. It wasn’t until I watched the show myself, alone, that I fell in love with Buffy, the Scooby gang and the writers.
Buffy night, soon to be followed by the spin-off Angel, was often a community affair. Friends would gather to eat take out, watch our shows in breathless silence and then deconstruct the episode afterward. Even as I moved from Indianapolis to Atlanta, the group watching continued. Buffy connected me to like-minded new friends who shared my love of story telling, dry humor and snark.
Joss and his team of writers broke the rules with spectacular results. “Hush” is an episode with little or dialogue and one of the freakiest monsters ever. “Once More with Feeling” was the famous musical episode that actually progressed the story. And if you have ever lost a love one to death, you will not be able to watch “The Body” without crying at Anya’s rant.
After Buffy and Angel, he broke the mold with Firefly–a space western. Fox killed Firefly in one season but it went on to live as a major motion picture, Serenity. Joss has a knack for handpicking amazing but unknown actors.
During the writer’s strike, Joss, his brothers and his sister-in-law wrote Dr. Horrible’s Sing-A-Long Blog. Cast with brilliant volunteers such as Neil Patrick Harris and Nathan Fillion, it was both funny and heartbreaking.
Joss writes about creating your own family, strong women, addictions and self destruction and purpose. Since those are themes I gravitate toward, I would love to visit his brain. Whatever Joss writes next, you know I will be watching.
Browncoats forever!
Who are your writing idols? Why?
Tomorrow’s posts might be on Keys. I haven’t made up my mind.
I is for Instant
Instant rice.
Instant fame.
Instant coffee.
Instant messaging.
We live in a world of immediacy. Takeouts and drive-thrus. Accelerated learning. Microwaves and ready-to-eat meals. Information provided in a split second, via Google.
With an attention span of a ferret on Pixie Stix, we demand instant satisfaction—NOW!
Overnight Celebrity
I would love to wake up tomorrow—much, much thinner and with a best-selling novel. But instant weight loss is as unlikely as an instant novel.
I am lucky enough to be able to write a first draft of a novel in a single month. I participate in NaNoWriMo every year and I always win—cranking out a 50,000 utterly crappy first draft.
But I have never shown a first draft to anyone. They are truly awful. I plot obsessively before November so the directions are there. But the draft rambles about, the characters repeat themselves and act out inappropriately, and the language is cliché, flat and boring.
Starting January 1st, I start editing. I read through my first draft, making notes and trying not to cry. I keep the secrets my characters accidently told me in the first draft and remove the personality straightjacket I tried to put them in. I star my favorite sub-plots and prune out the ones I plotted. I create charts, maps and profiles so I can keep it all straight.
Then I go through every page, working from the beginning until the very last page, creating a cohesive second draft—which is sadly, as lousy as the first draft.
Because even though, I have spent two months editing the draft it took one month to write, I am still not done. I’m not even half way done. After draft two, I start again at the beginning. There will be many more drafts, as I do more research, fix more words, polish more dialogue and get more reader input.
I know writers who quickly crank out a first draft, take a few months to edit and then publish by the next year. It would be nice if the process worked that way for me. I admit fast sounds better than slow.
But I am not a microwave. I am a crock pot. It’s the only way I can write. I’d hate to think what I would produce if I tried to be something I’m not.
What do you want NOW? What will you do today to work towards it?
Tomorrow’s post is on Joss Whedon.
H is for Hedgehogs
I collect two things: hedgehogs and skeleton keys. The hedgehog, oddly enough, has romantic reasons.
I grew up in the same small town with my husband, but we didn’t date until we were both in separate colleges. After our first date, he announced he was going to marry me. (Thankfully he did not tell me or we wouldn’t have had our second date!) On that second date, I pointed out a small stuffed hedgehog at a gift shop, mentioning that it was cute.
Fast forward nine months. We had hit a deer, totaled a car, survived several epidodes of drama and discussed marriage. After a quiet, home cooked dinner, he proposed with an elaborate succession of gifts and tokens–roses, letters, balloons, half dollar pieces, heirloom crystal and a stuffed hedgehog. (My man knows me well, as you can see from my post on Gifts.)
He had kept the memory something I admired, made a point of finding it and then incorporated it into a night I will never forget. Obviously, I kept the stuffed hedgehog (and all the other engagement paraphernalia) and I have added to the collection over the years.
Ugly Hedgehog
I found this hedgehog at an art fair in Broad Ripple, Indiana in 1998. He is so ugly I had to buy him.
I think hedgehogs are my favorite animal–not only because of their sentimental value to me. We also seem to have a lot in common.
- We can both be prickly and caustic.
- We both have unfortunate noses.
- We can roll into a tight ball and shut out the whole world, especially if we feel threatened.
- Beauty is not our strong suit.
- We are nocturnal, finding our energy at night and walking around bleary-eyed in the morning.
- We both hate the winter, choosing to hibernate instead.
Many of these common traits aren’t something to brag about. I know I should do a better job of surviving the winter. I should learn how to cope better, instead of retreating into a prickly ball. But my hedgehog DNA is strong. Change for a hedgehog doesn’t come as easily as it does to a snake, who can shed its flaws.
What animal do you relate to best? Why?
Monday’s post will be a surprise–to me too, since I can’t decide what to write.
G is for Gifts
Gifts are my Love Language, which I hate to admit. It makes me sound materialistic and greedy. But for me, it is more about the thought and the effort than the price tag.
Little Girl Lost
One of the sweetest gifts I ever received was this doll (pictured.) I had one when I was a little girl and it was lost when we moved from my Dad’s house, after the divorce. It represented so much to me–a loss of innocence, the definition of beauty and worth and the loss of my family. My best friend, Robin, had one just like it.
Robin and I grew up together in our small town. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, we were college room mates and we are still best friends.
I lost the doll when I was eight. Years passed and I still thought about the doll, even looking on ebay.
When I was newly married and visiting my hometown, Robin saw my car in my Mom’s driveway. She flew in the drive and said, “I have something for you!”
She had found the doll in a box at a garage sale. She was naked and $1 was written on her leg with a Sharpie marker. But she was the same doll I had lost so many years ago.
Every time I see this doll I am reminded of how much my friend cared. I hadn’t mentioned the doll in over ten years but she saw it and thought of me.
Priceless Gifts
The price of the gift is never the issue.
- My Mom made my two sisters and me a scrapbook of our Christmas pictures. She wrote memories on every page.
- My college room mate, Anna, sends me a pumpkin related gift every October. We have been swamping pumpkin items for almost 20 years now.
- My husband has been known to drive 45 minutes to bring me orange Tic Tacs–just to say “I love you.”
- My Ohio friends add a household product to each of our birthday and Christmas gifts. One year it was Lem-Shine, another year it was a dusting product. These are items we would never splurge on for ourselves.
It is truly the thought that counts.
What gift have you received that spoke directly to your heart?
Tomorrow’s post is on Hedgehogs.