Giving a Monkey

Don’t you sometimes wonder how slang phrases and words came into being? Watching Coronation Street I have discovered a whole new world of weird and wonderful words and phrases. Forget about bangers & mash and ask “what the heck is a buntee”? I think it is some type of breakfast sandwich. And they don’t say “would you like a cup of coffee”, instead they said “want a brew” but is a brew coffee or tea? For the longest time I thought it was a beer (having been in the brewing of beer industry – LOL).

Then every once in a while my mother will come up with some never-before-heard phrase in the Danish language. She will argue with us and say “of course I’ve said it before” and John, Erik, Charlotte and I will all say “no way have you ever said that one before”. We are still bilingual in our home and we use lots of the old proverbs or Danish sayings like (translated) “those who will not listen will have to feel” and so forth. One day we got the shock of our lives when she told us that “neger sukker” (which is what we called brown sugar in Danish) actually meant “nigger sugar”. It seems odd to have been so ignorant but we were incredibly shocked and embarrassed and I just wonder if I ever used that term while I was visiting my family in Denmark (I really hope not). I know we are not supposed to use the “N” word but in this instance I think it is appropriate to recount the story without having to go totally P.C. (i.e. politically correct) since it was a high impact moment for us.

Another phrase they use on Coronation Street is “I don’t give a monkey” which is the same is “I don’t give a care (or crap, or whatever curse word may come to mind). I rather like the monkey instead although I can’t say I have used it yet. They also say “owt” which I think is “not” and they also say “our Anna” or whatever name but with “our” included – I suppose because there could be more than one Anna in town. It can take time to figure out what the heck they mean.

Slang can be fun but it can also be confusing and even kind of lazy language. I have a tendency to use long or “fancy” words but generally I use them when I feel I am in company with literate people who would / should know the vocabulary I am using. I don’t believe that I am ostentatious like that jerk Conrad Black who uses words that no one has ever run across in their wide reading (aka ME). J

Another thing we have going in our family is our continual use of film jargon . . . “60 foot of bridge I can get almost anywhere” (Kelly’s Heros), “horse is best” (The Quiet Man), “red is more durable” (The Quiet Man), “know your colours, know your fabrics” (Mermaids) – and so on.

Cursive Writing Explodes Into Thought

Of course I have to weigh in on this subject but I must confess that I was terrifically shocked to learn that cursive writing is going the way of the dodo bird.  It was some years ago when I discovered that my nephews had not learned cursive writing in school.  As much as I liked to hear about what they were learning in school this was something I had never questioned.

First of all I must say right off the bat that I adore writing (as opposed to printing).  I love the feel of it, I love the way it looks, I like how it sooths me, I like the way I express myself when writing.  In short, I like it.  I don’t have particularly nice writing, in fact I think it is a little eccentric in style but my mother tells me that I have “nice writing”.  And when I advanced from printing to writing I was the last girl in my class to be promoted to permanently writing in my exercise books.  I was a little messy I guess.  But I took to writing like a duck to water.

I did some Google research on the value of cursive writing and there seems to be a split decision on whether or not the experts are right in saying that it is useful with cases of dyslexia, that it helps with cognitive ability or that it helps with creativity and personality.  Is writing faster than printing?  can you believe one report said no?  I used an expletive and questioned the researcher – the rest of what he wrote went in one ear and out the other because I highly doubt any of what he said after that.  At the end of the article was a sample of the author’s hand printing (hmm, is that a clue right there?) and from its back and forth leanings I can say something but won’t (gee, aren’t I being nice today?).  Also not straight, another clue.  Get my drift?  But that’s another story.

I am getting up there in age and I suppose despite trying to stay current I am going to have some old fashioned opinions but for what it’s worth here’s what I think.  I think a person who writes rather than prints indicates that she is educated, intelligent and may have a creative personality.  Why?  Handwriting is invariably distinctive where printing is generally primitive looking even when neat and tidy and doesn’t really show much style.  Going back to the author defending printing, his printing was wavy and had pretentions to writing in being somewhat swirly and my thoughts were “wannabee” writing.  I know that when I put my thoughts in writing, compared to when I compose on a keyboard, I have a steadier, stronger sense of the ideas I am formulating.  I do not need to edit myself nearly as much with handwriting as I do when typing.  I would never dream of printing as I find it much more awkward and childish.  Even with my elderly fingers writing flows much better from my pen.  But that’s me.  When it comes to writing, I confess, I will make judgments.

Teachers and individuals are going to do whatever as the mainstream changes but I feel that cursive writing is a valuable skill and I feel sorry for those who won’t experience the flow of thoughts into a stream of writing on paper.

Christmas Time is Near at Hand

As I was saying, once upon a time I had an imagination.  I used to make up all sorts of stories in my head and later I would eagerly write my “story” on paper.  Today I can formulate a brief timeline to a story but I rarely get it on paper because somehow I got myself pigeonholed into thinking I should write non-fiction.  How presumptuous.  My niche, I think, is still in the world of fiction as I look at the passenger across the seat from me and create a hidden life for this innocent soul who has just become a drug addicted psychopath in my mind simply because she has dark circles under her eyes and a tattoo behind her ear.

Every Christmas the family enters their private writing contest in the hopes of creating entertainment after the gifts are opened and the dessert is yet a dream away.  I have yet to win the contest of ‘best entry’ and I go to bed admiring a niece, nephew or brother who has made us all life or cry.  Every year I try a new twist but somehow the family seems to know me too well, they seem to guess almost as soon as I begin the tale.  Darn, how predictable.  This year I will foil them all, I say each year.

Once upon a time I had an imagination . . . I guess it really hasn’t gone away at all.

Colour Me Yale

My winter studies included the subject of theology and I found myself dissatisfied with the way I was progressing.  I started out by reading my old catechism for my confirmation into the Lutheran church while at the same time I began reading the Bible on a scheduled basis “The Bible in One Year”.   Then I found a book on Forgiveness and another one on Buddhism which gave me some balance from straight Christianity.  However, I thought I should take a more disciplined approach.

The miracle of Google led me to Open Yale where I discovered free online courses from Yale professors and bingo I found just what I needed, a course on the history of the New Testament.  I spent the month of March taking a daily lecture from Professor Dale Martin and I felt rewarded by learning a great deal from a historical rather than a theological perspective with respect to the creation of the New Testament. 

You may wonder, what does the history have to do with theology?  For me, one word answer, everything.  Understanding from a scholarly view how the writers are identified (or not), when they were written (or not), why some writings were chosen as scripture or canon while others were not are all very important to understanding how Christianity developed into the “orthodox” religion some 1,500 years ago.  Taking a critical look at the holy scripture of Christianity will help balance the review of Judaism, Islam, Buddhism as well as other religions.  I think in studying theology it is important to have as unbiased a view of all thinking as is humanly possible (and that is sometimes quite difficult).

Since the vast majority of humanity at least nominally declares they believe in one religion or another I think this is a big step in understanding the quixotic nature of people.

Maybe.

A Leap of Faith

I had an interesting discussion with a friend today on the extremes of artistic endeavour on the one end and absolute conviction on the other side.  One may be perceived as selfish while the other is selfless but at the same time there is also an up and down side to either pursuit.  Specifically, if an artist pursues their passion to the exclusion of all else, their lives as well as others, is that admirable?  If someone has a deep seated conviction on righting the wrongs of the world, is that admirable in and of itself? 

To my mind in a normal, common sense world, there must be balance in all things.  Is it necessary for a genius to follow their muse to the exclusion of everyone and everything but their art?  If we take some examples we seem to see a sort of selfishness in their pursuit, people like Van Gogh, Michelangelo, Strauss.  Yet we also find people like the Curies, pursuing science even to the point of death.  For some who end up pursuing a cause, is it because of their strong belief in the righteousness, rightness of their cause or have they come to it by default?  For example, Terry Fox, running for a cure for cancer; Dr. Morgentaler taking up the cause of the right to abortion or Abraham obeying God to the brink of killing Isaac.

The purpose of the analysis was to define whether extremes brought one closest to the brink of romantic genius.

Perhaps a good example is to look at the work of the three Bronte sisters.  Anne went out into the world for the longest period of time and critics generally agree that her work shows the least signs of genius.  Emily, on the other hand, was very much a recluse and both her novel and poetry are considered genius.  In the middle we have Charlotte, who produced the largest volume of work most of which was done in relative seclusion.  After her marriage she did not produce anything of note.  Can one say that Emily was the most selfish of the three in the fact that she was incapable of facing the outside world, was incapable of finding work and instead retreated into her fantasy world thereby creating one of the greatest novels of all time?

We struggled with the question of extremes and where it could take one, from a romantic perspective.  Abstract thinking at its best.

Game Changers

Ask your 12 year old self “what defines you” and then evaluate the answer with what you are today.  How far have you deviate from the life path you thought you were on when you were a kid?

       I am thinking back to the person I was when I was in Grade 7, when I was 12 years old, before practical things and hormones got in the way of my fascination.  At 12 I was still looking for adventure, I still loved ghost and detective stories while romance novels were still something for the future.  I was a very active kid, I liked to bicycle, climb trees, run, explore and make up adventure stories and games.  I was pretty creative in a variety of ways but I especially loved to write stories, any kind of story.

       Today while I am reading “Boundless Potential” I rest between chapters and question my passion, my fascination and where I want to be.  Perhaps it seems obvious that writing is what I want to do in my “second half” but I have doubts.  As I closed my eyes this afternoon I thought about what it would be like to simply take off the chains that bind me, chains that tie me down, chains named Responsibility, Common Sense, Doubts, Talentless.  I pictured myself a few days after my final days of official work and saw the chains fall away and I felt that perhaps there is hope to get back the imagination I once had before “earning one’s living” got in the way.

       I am so thankful that I stayed tuned in when the program Boundless Potential aired and I am so glad I pursued the piqued interest by buying and reading this book.  I feel my confidence slowly growing back and I find myself thinking “I can really nail this thing called retirement”.   Not by sitting in a rocking chair, not by going fishing, by volunteering, by visiting and doing slipslop work but rather by going back to what I love and making it my life.

       When I grow up, I want to be a writer.

Second Anniversary of Sanne's Grain of Salt

Here we are two years after the real start of this blog and what have I learned?  First and foremost, that writing a daily blog is a HUGE commitment.  To write with consistent quality and interest is a full time job so needless to say the writing has been erratic in the extreme.  The flip side is that blogging gives me an avenue to express my opinions on a world stage, be that world ever so small.  Family anecdotes and celebrity stories are more popular than political ravings.  Musings on the meaning of life also elicit more comments than worrying about health or safety. 

But where do the stories come from on a daily basis?  When you don’t lead an exciting life it’s hard to discover new topics every day.  There are stories in the paper that invite comments but how often can I question the sanity of humanity?  There is always the danger of blogging becoming journaling and I’ve had a few of those moments.  At the end of the day though I just write what’s in this mature woman’s mind and let the chips fall where they may.

More than ever I’ve learned to appreciate columnists, journalists, and authors for their stick-with-it-ness.  Not only are they searching for stories to write, they then have to write them, and then they have to send them out into the world and wonder if they are being read and appreciated.  Occasionally they are read and then one must endure the criticism that may pop up.  It’s a daunting profession.

I’ve survived two years and I hope I’m up to the challenge of going into the third year.  Come along for the ride and I will make you laugh.

Stephen King, I Hate You

Something compelled me to take another look at Stephen King On Writing; in his book, if you don’t write 2,000 words a day you are not a writer.  Woe Is Me.

       The truth is that I find it incredibly difficult to sit down at the blank computer page and come up with thoughts worthy of writing down.  Certainly there are a dozen thoughts fighting for space in the blackness of my brain but something worthy to be read, not so much.  I’ve written about this anxiety before, anyone attempting to write has had these moments (if not, I hate you too).

       Another truth is that I don’t hate Stephen King, I admire him tremendously.  I admire his unique imagination and I admire is complete and utter dedication to his writing.  It is amazing.  But for me, well, I like my home and I like to eat.  I find that earning a living is still my priority, or should I say, security is still my priority.  I don’t have the leap of faith that would tell me, quit your job and dedicate yourself to writing.  Be it bad or good, this is what you should be doing with your life.

       Too much information?  I suppose it is, but as I said, I’m having some trouble coming up with ideas to write down so I am rambling a note to the universe and those who are reading this will have a little look at Angst with a capital A.

Reality Check

When I was young I could go into fights of fancy at a moment’s notice or no notice at all. These days I find I can still wander off into la la land simply by contemplating how to spend the 6/49 winnings.  More often than not however I have my feet firmly on the ground which can be a real inhibitor to creativity.  I picked up a book entitled The Creative Life in the hopes of getting a little direction on how to get my imagination back on track only to be disappointed by a narrative about a play.  Not what I was expecting or hoping for.  The older I get and the more authors I note with more than one book to their name, the more respectful I become.

       So now the reality check comes in, the one where I forgive myself for not being creative enough.  Even as I write I am watching the clock on the computer count down to 4:30 a.m. and I am still in pajamas and not finished my daily blog.  I have to clean up, get dressed and be out the door before 5 a.m. to get to the unreserved parking by 5:40 at the latest or I will be in danger of not having a parking spot.  Then I slug away at my job until 3:45 when I take an overcrowded train back to the parking, drive another 40 minutes home where I embrace my mother who has thankfully prepared supper for us after which I flop on the couch to decompress by watching the Young and Ridiculous.  After supper I go out and cut some grass, pull some weeds or haul away some dead branches.  There’s always something to do in the garden and if I don’t keep up it will become a jungle.  I try not to look at the back 40 which has become a jungle.  By 8 a.m. I am ready for bed where I will do a crossword or Sudoku and then read for a few minutes before I konk out.  If I was a dedicated creative writer I would instead be composing the ultimate novel, wouldn’t I?

       People do.  That’s the thing.  People stay up until midnight and still get up at 5 or 6 a.m. but I am not one of those people.  I cannot survive on less than 7 hours sleep and my reality is that I can comfort myself with the fact that I am well balanced, well rested and calm most of the time.  Reality check, I am a dabbler but mostly I can have some fun with it.

       So there.

All Things Technical

High winds were a'blowin' last night and I think my computer has crashed, again.

I hate all things mechanical, electrical, technical . . . powerless

Turning to my pen and waxing poetic.

Book Reviews

I miss my book club which is currently on a sabbatical because now I cannot discuss my thoughts on the various books I’ve been reading.  So my blogging fans are in for it today!  (Plus I’m cooling down from over exerting myself playing lumberjack).

       Lately I read Geraldine Brooks “March” and “Caleb’s Crossing” back to back.  I loved these books as much as her previous 2 books “Year of Wonders” and “People of the Book”.  I particularly liked Year of Wonders and Caleb’s Crossing as I felt as though I were in the 17^th century with the characters.  The author is meticulous in her research and seems to submerse herself in the era as few current writers seem to be able to do.  Caleb’s Crossing is based on a true story of one of the first native Americans to graduate from Harvard.  While I was aware that there was a concentrated effort at evangelizing the natives I had no idea that there was an effort to have them educated to the level of a college education.  Not surprisingly there was a lot of exploitation in the endeavour.  I enjoyed the various aspects of this book and recommend it as a good read whether you like history or not.

       I am a big fan of Thomas H. Cook as well.  His mysteries are always suspenseful and I read on with trepidation as I await the surprise ending.  I first discovered Cook when I picked up a copy of The Chatham School Affair which was really a surprise ending for me.  I think I have read every one of his books and I always feel nervous yet satisfied upon reading them.  Currently reading “The Last Talk with Lola Faye” and half way through I still am not prepared for what may be revealed.  Cook also co-authored “Taken” which is one of my favorite mini-series and introduced Dakota Fanning to audiences.

       What are you reading this summer?

Motivation

If you are like me, or if I am normal, we tend to surge ahead with our enthusiasm when a project first gets off the ground and sooner or later we begin to sag, peter out or even give up.  Things that keep motivation going are when you know this is your livelihood (so you go to work every day), or you will drown if you don’t keep swimming, or you will run like the dickens because the pitbull is after you.  I am visualizing all of these things as I sit myself down conscientiously every evening to write my blog, my story, my novel.  As I said last fall:

      “If I succeed I keep on writing, if I fail I keep on writing.  Whether I feel interested or bored, energized or tired, encouraged or discouraged, I keep on writing.”

      I don’t know if it is important to have a mantra but I do know it’s important to have discipline if you want to succeed at anything.  Not every day or every effort turns out to be a great piece of writing, but at least I am being consistent.

As one becomes older I think there is a tendency for us to want to share our experiences and help the younger generation from making the same mistakes we made, or of taking a short cut into experience.  But even as I try to impart my wisdom I realize that people of all ages still want to learn for themselves, they seldom want advice or even recommendations as to a good book or movie.  What they all seem to enjoy though is a good sense of humour, they will share a joke and appreciate a good laugh so as I write I hope that somewhere in between the preaching there is a laugh or two to be enjoyed.

Of course I especially like to laugh at myself so the joke this day is that coming home last night I had to stand up for at least 6 stops and all my graciousness was struggling with the resentment of seeing men and young people sitting down diligently avoiding the eyes of all the middle aged women standing up and clinging to the strap that was way too high for them. 

Really, whoever on earth thought creating cattle cars out of the city transit should be shot with lukewarm sh*t. (to quote a Danish saying).

Affirming what a great writer I am

Part of the 30-Day writing challenge includes making affirmations to one’s self.  Just like other great companies, becoming a writer means getting encouragement from one’s self as well as one’s peers, friends, coaches, and mother.  Every time I emerge from my office Mom asks me “so what did you write about this time” and waits with interest to hear what I have to tell her.  Sometimes I am vague but sometimes I speak with a twinkle in my eye as I repeat one of her own anecdotes.  I think that she likes it that I am writing her stories down.

      As with any type of art form, writing is very subjective so what one person likes to read is simply not another person’s cup of tea.  As a reader I prefer to read third person narrative rather than first person stories and yet I find myself writing in the first person most of the time now.  I notice with interest that there are so many people who publish books which tell their story, or their ideas and I think it is wonderful that people have an avenue to express themselves.

      In the Mary Kay world they always speak positively in their meetings.  The leaders do not allow negativity to enter their meetings, even if they secretly wish that the company hadn’t changed their foundation formulas or discontinued a certain colour of lipstick.  Like any corporate executive they tow the party line.  They encourage their consultants with the products available and Mary Kay is one of the most successful companies in terms of development and reward.  So I understand very well my writing coach sends out a message that we writers must affirm our abilities.  We shouldn’t say we are lousy, we shouldn’t even be modest when we speak of our writing.  We should give ourselves the old raa, raa encouragement just as though we were in a Mark Kay seminar.  So don’t be shocked by the title of this blog, not only am I giving myself permission to be boastful in encouragement, but I pass the lesson on to you!  We are all great at something.

Starting Over, Again

Even kids hate the sound of that phrase “starting over” but it is part of the story of life.  Whether it’s putting the building blocks in the right order when you are two or going back to Weight Watchers at 45, 55 and 65 these are things that are part of the experience.

      So where am I coming from this morning?  Well, I am thinking about all the things that seem to come back time and time again.  Diets, ad naseum, exercise regimens, sorting through pileups, changing jobs, and so on.  However, today I am starting over with a new 30 day writing challenge and that is exciting.  My coach is running a second 30 day writing challenge which I will take her up on.  My discipline petered out some time in February and it’s time to get back in the game.  Every morning I sit at the computer to write my blog but beyond that I have to admit it has been slim pickings.  It’s hard to feel creative when there are life pressures all around one, especially if you are trying to write positively about life.

      At work I’ve been asked to be a role model for our company values and of course I take it seriously.  So now I have to discourage negative thinking but first that means putting my own mind in a positive state.  I’ve done some soul searching, I’ve analyzed my situation both at work and at home, and my conclusion is that I have it pretty darn good.  Sure, there is always something a person can complain about but the bottom line about complaining is that no one really cares, complaining doesn’t fix anything and it only makes you feel crappy.  So why bother?  If you really have something to complain about, fix the problem rather than talk about it.  If you can’t or won’t fix the problem, then you better start looking at constructive ways of making your mental state positive.

      I wholeheartedly embrace Sarah Ban Breathnach’s statement “a gratitude journal is not an option, it’s a must”.  I was explaining this to my mother a couple of weeks ago.  When I write in my daily gratitude journal I always complete it with a feeling of satisfaction.  There’s a happy little glow inside me that lasts at least all morning and sometimes the whole day.  When I miss a day of writing down what I am grateful for I feel less complete, and less joyful.

      This morning, I’m grateful for a new writing challenge and a closer step to my goals.

      Oh yeah.

Memoir Writing

I’ve read many biographies over the years everything from Antonia Fraser’s definitive “Mary, Queen of Scots” through celebrity biographies of Vivien Leigh, Clark Gable, June Allyson and the like.  As well, I’ve read many autobiographies like “Lauren Bacall, By Myself” and Barbara Walters’ truly interesting story.  I’ve read Anne Morrow Lindberg’s series of diaries and my very first diary, The Diary of Anne Frank when I was 15 years old.  It’s interesting to read about a long and varied career, or about young lives that expose a part of history. 

Currently I am reading a truly dreadful book, Melissa Gilbert’s “Prairie Tale”.  First of all it is poorly written but worse, it is mostly a bed hopping story and finding justification for her drinking by saying she was unloved for 24 hours at birth.  Really?  I am feeling terrible as I read Melissa’s tale because I’ve always liked this actress and I thought she was an intelligent individual.  This book makes her seem very simple minded and rather stupid.  As I’m reading it (and heaven only knows why I am continuing to read it other than determination not to have wasted my money) I wonder what her real purpose is in writing this book.  Money.  It must be money because she is not telling the reader anything worthy of the read.  There is no life lessons here that cannot be summed up in a sentence or two.  Like, don’t do drugs, don’t mess around, and for goodness sakes don’t tell the world about every passing moment of your love life. 

What I loved about Goldie Hawn’s book was how she would tell a chapter of her life and draw a lesson from it and even highlight that in little bubbles of insight.  I am still a long way from completing my own story but I am hoping to make a point or two in my delving that will be worthwhile for the reader.  Mine is not a dramatic story but I hope that I have enough insight to be able to tell readers’ some of the peculiar things I’ve seen along the way of my life.  But reader take warning, there will be no tales of bed hopping or drug intaking or even drinking binges to confess. 

One more thing before I go, I do not read biographies to read scandal, I read them to find out how “big lives” are lead and how character is made.  I’ve read close to a dozen books on the Kennedys but one of the best is Thomas C. Reeves’ “A Question of Character”.  Highly recommended.

Writing in a Vacuum

Blogging is a curious type of writing because if one is serious about writing we try to post daily if possible yet seldom do we hear back on what impact, if any, our words have meant to the readers.

       You may be asking yourself, “why does she write”?  I ask myself that too.  Partly it is my life long love of words, of reading, and of composing my own stories.  But a big part of blogging is getting out messages to those who might be interested in the variety of topics that comes to the mind of this middle aged woman.  Granted I can swing from topic to topic (preferably not in the same article) but after all, isn’t that how we have our conversations?  During a conversation with a friend we can talk about the weather, our family, our colleagues, the state of the country, retirement, how much our back hurts, when was the last time we remembered an actor’s name within 30 seconds of having lost it (painfully a long time ago), vacation spots, varicose veins, NYC, the Good Wife, why are we still working, is it good for women to work into their 50’s, if they have kids, if they have elderly parents, career vs working stiff.  The list goes on.

       Some critical conversations I’ve had over the years with my girlfriends is what do women really want out of life?  For many of my generation we got mixed messages from our parents.  On the one hand they wanted us to graduate from high school and then go to university, preferably to go on to a professional career.  But at the same time they also expected us to be a good wife and mother (in other words, to get married).  My generation was the first generation that really tried to juggle both, with mixed results.

       Approaching 60 I can say that I look forward to not having to work and I now hope to do all the things I have had to put aside while I have been working to make a living these last 40 years.  But is that any way to really live one’s life, to have to put our passions aside in order to cope with earning a livelihood?  In the 21^st century I hope that women (and men too) can make it happen where they can meld their careers and their passions together and really enjoy life to the full.

       Good luck in figuring it out.

Blog, Blog, Blog

Do you know how daunting it is to sit at your computer and try to compose a worthy article that people would enjoy reading?  Notice I use the word “article” as opposed to “blog” because I want this to be SERIOUS.  When you speak about “blogging” people don’t seem to take it with the same awed expression as when you say “I’ve just written an article for People magazine” or some such thing.  In any event I seem to going through a dryspell wherein I am flogging away in my dark cavernous brain trying to find something that will twig with me.  Not my audience, but with me. 

Am I getting bored?  Not at all.  I love writing.  But for some reason the moment is not coming upon me they way it was before Christmas.

I sit here in my office, surrounded by paper, by books, by other people’s ideas and still – nothing.  My lightbulb moment is not happening.

There’s Stephen King looking reproachfully at me from the bottom shelf; there’s Anne Morrow Lindberg on the shelf above and above that I see Byron, Keats and Shelley looking very stoic in purple.  Groan.  Ah, Emily Dickinson how refreshing but really, no, I cannot think about poetry when I am in crisis.

So, are you enjoying my babble about this grey matter Hercule Poirot called “his little grey cells”?  I thought not.

Lest you think that this little ramble just happened, well, no it did not.  The reason why I am writing this idiocy and planning on posting this in the morning is that tonight I happened to stumble upon Meg Tilly’s Blog.  That’s right, THE Meg Tilly.  And therefore I am undaunted by this rather mundane little ramble (but I do promise not to make it a habit) because when a celebrity of Meg’s calibre can run off on a tangent then I feel liberated to do the same thing. 

For those who may be unaware, Meg Tilly is not just a Canadian actress of note, but she is also a truly talented author.  I found her book “Singing Songs” poignant.  In other words, I have respect for her work.  At the same time, her blog was not intimidating to me and so I can sit here and write words that may not mean very much in the scheme of things but I mean them as encouragement for those who wish to write, find that blank screen horrifying and walk away.

Don’t do it.  Write your thoughts, however random they may be.  Post or not to post; that isn’t important.  What is important is that if you want to write, just write.  My authority – does it really matter?  Your own permission is permission enough.

So I guess I did have some thoughts tonight.  Who knew?

Stuck in Limbo

Last year I happened to be home to watch one of Oprah’s final episodes where she had Debbie Reynolds and Carrie Fisher on the show.  When Carrie spoke about her particular form of mental depression I was struck by her illustration of hardening cement in her brain.  I am currently stuck in my story writing but I have to say that it is not cement so much as a mouse in the proverbial wheel that is giving me trouble!  I have woken up so many memories that I don’t know where to start and where to stop.  Then I have to find the next piece to make the story run smoothly.  It had all been going so well and now I am in that no-man’s land of jumble.

            Isn’t that the story of a person’s life though?  When we are children we just exist in the same way grass and trees are there.  We wake up in the morning, do what we are told, eat breakfast, brush our teeth, go to school, do our homework.  As we get a little older we have vague thoughts of “what we will be when we grow up”.  Then suddenly we are grown up and willy nilly we are thrown out into the world and somehow have to make sense of it.  Somehow we find our balance and start earning a living.  The next thing you know you become a “heellot”; you start owning things, a car, a house, appliances.  Now you have worries because you need to hold on to these things.  So you can’t lose your job; maybe you need to get a better job.  The cycle has begun.  Welcome to adulthood.

            If we are really lucky in life we may have a handle on our cycle by our mid to late forties.  The house is paid for, we have a good job, we can start to take vacations now and then.  Whoops, now we have the boomerang kids coming back into the house.  Oh dear, Mom and Pop need taking care of and so they move in.  Second mortgage?  Traps of life.

 Luckily most of us can handle what gets thrown at us but every once in a while don’t you just want to say “give me a break”.  I know I sometimes look back on my childhood and wonder why I was in such a hurry to grow up.  Today I see parents hurrying their kids along to maturity by handing them a cellphone when they are 3 years old (some people should be shot).  I remember being somewhat appalled when 3 year olds got a Barbie doll.  A Barbie doll, have you noticed, is a woman.  I’m not worried about the physical look of Barbie, I am concerned about the storylines a 3 year old would have to create to sustain the Barbie doll world.  Somehow that seems to be quite different from having a baby doll at 3 years old.  I suppose because I didn’t get a Barbie until I was 10 I was having a more evolved storyline for the character compared to playing “house” with baby dolls and play china.  In any event the idea of a 3 year old having a Barbie was disconcerting to me.  But I feel absolutely astonished that parents are giving their youngsters electronic equipment.  I must be getting old when I can’t wrap my brain around that kind of “play”.

            So my brain is turning on its little cogs and I wonder if anything I write is relevant?  I personally love nostalgia but one shouldn’t come across as maudlin either.  And lately I seem to be going into a maudlin state and that will never do.  Perhaps this nice storm we are having today will pull me out of the dumps and back into the nervous lizzies.

Timetables

I have been writing my childhood memories and the dates do not seem to jive with my memory.  All I can say is “thank goodness my mother is still alive to straighten me out”!  As a graduated historian I am a stickler for dates and accuracy but some memories go way back and must be real.  How does a person reconcile all of that?

Oh yes, that is what becomes a “true-life novel”.  I first heard that expression being used for the book “Half Broke Horses” by Jeannette Walls, author of “The Glass House”.  Ms. Walls developed her grandmother’s story as a partial novel by using memories of hers and those who knew the grandmother.  The book is really wonderful and the reader doesn’t care about accuracy since the story still rings true.  A writer has to get over her peculiar quirks on always wanting to be right.  A right writer, is that an oxymoron?

            In this last year I have really found myself falling back into good writing habits.  A lot of the credit must go to my writing coach, Karen Rowe (of Front Rowe Seat), but I also reflect back on Stephen King’s book “On Writing” where he says that one is not a writer unless one is writing every day.  It really is true that the more I have been writing the more like a writer I feel.  I got a lovely compliment from my sister last night when she said that since my second Writers’ Retreat my blog has become more interesting and my writing has improved considerably.  Again, I have to thank my coach for giving me Permission to be Sanne! 

            You see, I had been hesitant about writing too many anecdotes because I thought they would bore people and to my surprise those were the bits in my writing that Karen liked the best!  And lo and behold, these are the blogs that I am getting my best reviews and comments from.  Who knew? 

            So please bear with me for a few days while I search my mother’s memory (oh to have Dumbledore’s memory wand) before beginning on some more “accurate” memories. 

            Stay tuned tomorrow . . . it is my one year anniversary in writing (consistently) on this blog!

Wine & Words Writers' Retreat

What can I say except that Karen is a genius as a writing coach.  Having reviewed the work I have been doing over the last 6 months she set me down for a one on one session and gave me quality critique on my haphazard writing style.  During our pre-conference discussion I mentioned to her that what I wanted to take away from this weekend was a clear path to improve the quality of my writing.
 Mission accomplished.
I have a clear understanding of why I felt my writing lacked clear quality.  I was almost schizophrenic in my style and by that I mean I was trying to be a storyteller and at the same time be a teacher.  Drop the teaching, if you are doing your job as a storyteller the reader will get the lesson.  No need to insult them by pointing them in that direction.
Really?  That makes my work so much easier!  Thank  you!
The retreat hasn't been all work, although Karen has definitely been encouraging us to work in 90 minute increments but when Jane said "let's call it a day" at 4:00 I was the first to plunge into the hot tub.  I waited patiently for the girls to signal wine but they were soooo vanilla.  However we made up for it after our fabulous potluck dinner when  we truly made it a wine and words weekend.  What an interesting, fun loving trio of ladies I have spent this weekend with.
Karen, next retreat, I am so there with you!