Rowing Without Oars

My latest book recommendation: Rowing Without Oars by Ulla-Carin Lindquist.

It was a Christmas gift from my brother and sister-in-law.

Excellent.

Love of God

". . . the Mighty One has done great things . . . holy is his name."

--Mary's Song (Luke 16:49)

Merry Christmas.

See you in 2008.

love.

I Am Writer, Hear Me Roar

I’ve been roared at (as in a lion: ROAR!) by another writer, Lisa, who has not only been published in the same anthology as me, but recently had a poem published in Literary Mama just as yours truly is about to come February (oh, you read that right…I wrote a poem…and it’s being published...egad!).

Because I’ve been roared at, I’m supposed to list three things I think are necessary for good, powerful writing. Um, make it (1) good, (2) powerful, and (3) written? Hee hee. Okay seriously:

• Get rid of the word ‘get’ in your writing (That’s a joke. Get it? But it’s not really a joke because you should delete that word every time you see it and replace it with something not-so-generic)
• Keep writing, keep writing, keep writing
• Make your own rules instead of following others’

Next I’m supposed to ROAR at five other writers:

• Carrie for sure…keep an eye out for her…she’ll be on Oprah’s yellow couch one day
• Michelle who Lisa already roared at but whatever
• Elizabeth who is pondering a career in the writing field (why pondering I don’t know because her voice and style is addictive)
• From Russia with Love whose posts make me laugh a lot
• And Sandi and SusieJ…I know that totals six but I have to meet these women in person one day…they both have four kids which is how many I want to have (I realize I’m not doing too well with zero, but we’ll see what happens in the due course of time)

Onto another topic…here are a few little pieces that are circulating:

• Posts over at my WASA blog including thoughts on Yoga & SAD and weaning myself off coffee
• My latest What Counts column…about Santa and burning reindeer and pink goo (oh, it’s too hard to explain, just go read it already)
• A review of Animal Magic (you have to scroll down the page for this one)
• A spotlight on the band Dead Men’s Hollow which I can’t link to cuz it’s not online, but you can check them out on this website
• And…stay tuned for an essay on acupuncture coming your way next month as well as another piece for Mediabistro that I’m excited to share

The Path of a Writer

A couple Saturdays ago, I was off to meet The Urban Muse for a cup of coffee.

She was in town visiting friends, and I was looking forward to hanging out with another writer/blogger. I envisioned us sipping lattes and chatting about how incredible it is to be a writer…yes, we’d bask about the wonderful life as an artist…it would be great.

Except I was in tears. My freakin’ car broke down again. No way in H-E-Double-Toothpicks I was driving twelve miles in the rain without a window (it rolled down and never came back up).

I’ve had my sedan for what seems like forever. It’s scratched and dented. 100,000 miles. Ten years old. And constantly falling apart. (Anyone wanna buy it?) I can’t afford a different car because . . . guess why? I decided to abandon a steady-paying job for the wonderful writing life.

"I promise I won’t mind the sacrifices," I said nearly three years ago. And for the most the part I haven’t. Oh, it took some adjusting – don’t get me wrong – but writing brings me joy in ways nice restaurants, fancy electronic gadgets, and big houses never will. Sure, I’d love a Caribbean vacation come February. I could use some new clothes (like a pair of jeans without holes in the knees), but foregoing that stuff is worth it. There’s nothing like waking up every morning and having a day that stretches in front of me to write. I normally wear yoga pants anyway.

But the car! Argh! Get this – the window actually broke on the drive back from the repair shop where it was being fixed after smoke started pouring out of the hood. That Saturday morning, I had had it. I did the only rational thing I could do: I blamed my husband.

He was just so stingy for not agreeing to dip into our savings for a more reliable car, I argued at him. Couldn’t he see my point…that it’s expensive being cheap? How long before he realized we were paying more in rental car fees each month than if we just went out and bought something dependable?

Thankfully, we don’t fight often. But when we do it never fails – I bring up my favorite topic: “If we still lived in California,” I said, “I could drive our crappy car because it’s sunny out there!” Of course The Urban Muse wasn’t visiting LA, but that’s a minor detail.

Eventually my anger subsided, but my tears didn’t. Ron agreed to drive me to the coffeehouse (the broken window was on the driver’s side), so he braved the wet as I sat bundled in my coat, my hat pulled over my eyes as I dabbed the tears that spilled down my cheeks. I was just going to have to tell The Urban Muse that I was on the verge of chucking my whole dream.

Inside the coffeehouse, my heart immediately opened up. It was warm and comfy. I listened to the clatter of plates and looked at the tables full of freelancers, pecking away on their laptops as they drafted prose. They all had holes in their jeans. These are my peeps. And I love this life. Ends up The Urban Muse and I did swap good tips, and we talked about goals for 2008. She encouraged me to revisit an assignment that had fallen by the wayside last year (it’s back on track now – thanks, Susan!), and I left feeling inspired.

Back home I realized that I have been able to write an invoice every single day for awhile, including weekends. This is a drastic improvement from when I first ventured down this path; in the beginning, I was lucky to send an invoice once a month. And I have a feeling it’s only going to get better.

Elf Yourself

How many "Elf Yourselfs" have you received in your in-box this December? Cracks me up. Every time.

Not sure how the dog ended up being the star of ours . . .

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1473069431

How to Go Christmas Shopping

1. Arrange for both you and your spouse to take a day off work
2. Sleep in (on a Wed. morning!)
3. Make breakfast together
4. Stroll into the near-empty mall where there is plenty of room to browse and shop
5. Take a leisurely lunch – the kind with appetizers and a glass of wine
6. Finish shopping
7. Head home before the commuters hit the road
8. Smile in satisfaction the following Saturday as you scoot right by the crowds on the way to the movies

I stole this idea from a guy I used to work with. Freakin’ brilliant.

love.

Over in Portland, Fully Caffeinated has been signing off her blog posts with “love” for as long as I’ve known her.

She even wears this t-shirt* . . . which just happens to be on my Christmas list (helloooo family – perfect stocking stuffer!).

(*t-shirt from Inspiration Peak)

Then Full-Soul-Ahead started signing off her blogs with “love” too.

I love love. It’s contagious. I’m not a mushy-gushy kind of gal, but I think I can make it work. So once in awhile you might catch me copying my bloggy friends and signing off my posts with love.

love.

Books Alive

Beautiful.

Gorgeous.

Love, love, love them.

My first official bookshelves are . . . alive.

I’ve been dreaming of having my own “library” since I was a wee little tot (okay, maybe not a tot, but definitely since I was a small girl). Each time I moved, I dragged my book boxes (which eventually exploded into a large and heavy number) along for the ride. In every place I’d pile the boxes in a corner with an announcement that ONE DAY I would have my own library.

The bookshelves came in two sections. One is downstairs in the reading room and the other is upstairs in my home office. Before Thanksgiving my brother and sister-in-law helped me put the shelves together, the next day my dad anchored them into the walls, and then . . . I went NUTS.

In between dancing jigs I tore through moving boxing and raced up and down the stairs putting books away. When Ron came home from work I showed off my collection as I jumped around him in circles.

He said, “Can I have a row for my books?”

Har har har. I laughed so hard. Funny guy, that Ron. A row for his books. As if! My vision involved a library of memoirs and my favorite fiction. It did not include boring books like The Trouble with Physics and Financial Accounting and Statement Analysis (no offense to whoever wrote those, but I mean really – don’t those titles scream closet? Or attic?).

Two weeks later, when Ron requested “just one row” for about the millionth time, I stopped laughing.

“Oh my gosh. You’re not kidding are you?” I said.

He wasn’t. He claimed a library should include a breadth of material.

We both turned and scanned the current holdings.

“You don’t think The Vagina Monologues, Girl, Interrupted, and The Dance of the Dissident Daughter is a breadth of material?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said.

I got very, very quiet. For about three days.

Finally I agreed he could have half a row. And only if I could approve the books he picked first.

He was so floored by my generous offer he accepted the terms without any negotiation. (Ha – sucker. I probably would’ve been willing to cave a bit further.)

When he tells me the books he wants I’ll post the list on the blog for input. You guys have got to help me decide between stuff like Real Options and Investment Valuation and The Handbook of Fixed Income Securities. Actually, no, you don’t have to help me with that. The hard part is going to be which books I’ll take off the shelf to make room. The Girls’ Guide to Hunting and Fishing or The Year of Magical Thinking?

Hmm. See, now both of those are definitely staying. I can tell this is going to be agonizing.