As usual, life has been its regular crazy self. I've been writing, taking care of my granddaughter, and trying to get things done, especially decluttering, simplifying life, and figuring out where to go from here.
I'll be fifty in June, half a century old, and I'm starting to feel it in my joints and opinions. I'm not as... flexible as I used to be, both literally and figuratively, and it bugs me.
For example, I've always loved music, been surrounded with it my entire life. I don't really listen to music anymore, other than occasionally plugging in the iPod when I'm cooking. I rarely have the radio on when I'm driving unless there's weather news I'm trying to keep up with. It's not that I don't like music anymore or even that I think modern music is crap - I don't, and there's actually some I like. I'd just rather have silence.
Silence. Calm. Less distractions. Peace.
It's not just with music, but with everything. Simpler food. No TV. Nothing beeping. Nothing in the way.
Seems like there's so much chaos lately. I'm not a fan. I'm hoping it's just my age. {{hugs}}
Showing posts with label tamboservations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tamboservations. Show all posts
30 May, 2014
11 February, 2014
Tea
There, right now, six different kinds of tea in our cupboard. I know, because I just counted them. Plain teas, flavored teas, six different kinds of teas.
None of them are mine.
None of them are mine.
In my household, everyone drinks hot tea except me. Oh, we all drink unsweetened iced tea (it's my beverage of choice all summer and when we go out to eat) but I never developed a taste for the hot stuff. Bill and Laura both have their own steeping pots and our granddaughter is delighted to steal take sample sips of whatever blend mommy or pah-pah are drinking, but I only fill up the kettle if I'm making instant cocoa (sugar free, um, yay?) or the occasional instant apple cider (also sugar free).
Does anyone else out there drink iced tea, but not hot tea?
Does anyone else out there drink iced tea, but not hot tea?
29 October, 2013
By George
Working on SLIPPAGE tonight and I took a little break from the still-not-right opening (Gak, I SUCK at openings!!) to follow a link or two and ran across this gem from 2010.
It's Louis CK giving homage to George Carlin.
And it's freaking awesome.
The middle of the video is absolute spot-on advice for writers, as well as comedians (and, most likely, any creative professional). It's from about 4:10 to about 8:20. It's the truth and, really, is the only way to get better at a crazy creative job like this.
Throw out the old.
Dig deeper.
Speak the truth.
Repeat.
It's scary as hell, but do it anyway.
It's Louis CK giving homage to George Carlin.
And it's freaking awesome.
The middle of the video is absolute spot-on advice for writers, as well as comedians (and, most likely, any creative professional). It's from about 4:10 to about 8:20. It's the truth and, really, is the only way to get better at a crazy creative job like this.
Throw out the old.
Dig deeper.
Speak the truth.
Repeat.
It's scary as hell, but do it anyway.
01 October, 2013
What's up with Tam?
Howdy.
Life is, as always, its own brand of ups-and-downs-and-all-arounds here and I decided to give everyone a quick update.
To start off, I have a new agent, Laura Bradford at Bradford Literary Agency. I am incredibly excited about this new phase in my writing career and Laura is going to shepherd me into becoming a major thriller author. She currently has two of my novels, a Mainstream/Speculative Thriller titled SPORE and a quirky New Adult Thriller titled MORGAN'S RUN. Since I've pretty much promised to stop screwing off and actually write two books a year, I've begun another Mainstream/Spec Thriller with a working title of SLIPPAGE.
Yeah, yeah, I know none of those are Dubric books. As much as everyone loved the series, it's currently considered non profitable and I just can't keep beating my head against a brick wall that doesn't want to get written and has virtually no hope of selling even if I can get it done. I am not giving up on Dubric and Co - there are a LOT of things I still want to do with the series and characters - it's just not happening right now in my head, my heart, or my life, and I really need to get moving forward again, instead of circling the same damn story. I mean, crap, I've been fighting Stain of Corruption for almost eight years now without making real progress. I need to move on. Maybe I'll get back to it, maybe not, but I'm not doing anyone any good kicking at it but not making progress.
SPORE has the potential to be a breakout blockbuster novel and, in fact, I had four agents wanting to rep it, and me, after my original agent decided it was time to retire. FOUR. This could be a very, very big deal here and I am happily writing totally new things. It's exciting and wonderful and if, someday, Dubric, Dien and Lars start banging on my brain again I will definitely write their next foray into the dark. Until then, I must move forward and write cool kick ass books (oh the twists in SPORE and SLIPPAGE!! *swoon*).
So, anyway, the writing is going pretty damn fantabulous! :)
I do have some great Dubric news, though. I recently agreed to an offer from a major German publisher for all three novels. They'll come out as three separate trade paperbacks, in German, with all new covers and everything. With one phone call I became an international author, and that's pretty damn cool. I shall do my best to keep everyone updated as news develops there.
I did my first ever 5k over the weekend and it was awesome, other than I've found myself with shin splints. I do not like these shin splints at all, but I'm stuck with them for the time being.
Our daughter got a job - YAY!! - which means I get to babysit my almost 2 year old granddaughter more. Which is also fun, but often exhausting.
I'm up for re-election for city council this November, but there are four of us running for three seats. Not sure if I'm going to make the cut or not, and, really, win or lose, I'll be fine either way. It's been an honor to serve and very eye opening.
My Write Your Novel class at the community college begins October 17th. It was originally slated to start in September, but not enough people signed up, so they've pushed it to a later date. Frankly, I think that most anyone who wants to take a novel writing class doesn't have the money for the tuition (I have absolutely no control over the price) but we'll see what happens in a couple of weeks. I don't want to push the start into November because there's too much likelihood of crappy winter weather and it's already a pretty long drive for me, let alone the potential students.
Sewing is going all right, when I can carve out time. I've been making smallish, sort-of-artsy quilts for specific people and they've turned out well. They keep me sewing, when I can.
I'm still taking a monthly block making class at the quilt shop. Here's what I sewed in September.
Frankly, it's the only guaranteed sewing time I have. Wish I had more.
Health is great. Been drinking protein and fruit smoothies every morning, exercising most every evening, and although my weightloss is still stalled - damn you plateaus!!! - I feel awesome. Other than my shins. They're still hurting.
We have a new cat, a rescue named MeowMeow (she came with that name). She's all black other than a few white hairs on her belly and is Very Friendly. I really need to take some pics. ;)
I don't like to end on a downer note, but this past month I lost my long-adored desklamp (it was a miniature draftsman's lamp that I could move around however I wanted) and my granddaughter dumped a full glass of Crystal Light on my Mac keyboard, shorting it out. I have had no luck finding a replacement lamp that I like (sorry, they're all fugly or too big) and I do not like the replacement PC keyboard I'm typing this post on. The command/alt/control/function keys are in the wrong place and, frankly, it can't keep up with my typing or the keys are a slight difference apart or something. I'm getting screwy ass typos which I never used to get and my shortcuts don't work, so I have to pause and find the right key combination. I know it's a nothing first-world kinda problem but it's still aggravating. But we'll be down to Des Moines at some point and I can get a replacement Mac keyboard.
All in all, though, I'm glad autumn is here. I like fall! {{hugs}}
Life is, as always, its own brand of ups-and-downs-and-all-arounds here and I decided to give everyone a quick update.
To start off, I have a new agent, Laura Bradford at Bradford Literary Agency. I am incredibly excited about this new phase in my writing career and Laura is going to shepherd me into becoming a major thriller author. She currently has two of my novels, a Mainstream/Speculative Thriller titled SPORE and a quirky New Adult Thriller titled MORGAN'S RUN. Since I've pretty much promised to stop screwing off and actually write two books a year, I've begun another Mainstream/Spec Thriller with a working title of SLIPPAGE.
Yeah, yeah, I know none of those are Dubric books. As much as everyone loved the series, it's currently considered non profitable and I just can't keep beating my head against a brick wall that doesn't want to get written and has virtually no hope of selling even if I can get it done. I am not giving up on Dubric and Co - there are a LOT of things I still want to do with the series and characters - it's just not happening right now in my head, my heart, or my life, and I really need to get moving forward again, instead of circling the same damn story. I mean, crap, I've been fighting Stain of Corruption for almost eight years now without making real progress. I need to move on. Maybe I'll get back to it, maybe not, but I'm not doing anyone any good kicking at it but not making progress.
SPORE has the potential to be a breakout blockbuster novel and, in fact, I had four agents wanting to rep it, and me, after my original agent decided it was time to retire. FOUR. This could be a very, very big deal here and I am happily writing totally new things. It's exciting and wonderful and if, someday, Dubric, Dien and Lars start banging on my brain again I will definitely write their next foray into the dark. Until then, I must move forward and write cool kick ass books (oh the twists in SPORE and SLIPPAGE!! *swoon*).
So, anyway, the writing is going pretty damn fantabulous! :)
I do have some great Dubric news, though. I recently agreed to an offer from a major German publisher for all three novels. They'll come out as three separate trade paperbacks, in German, with all new covers and everything. With one phone call I became an international author, and that's pretty damn cool. I shall do my best to keep everyone updated as news develops there.
I did my first ever 5k over the weekend and it was awesome, other than I've found myself with shin splints. I do not like these shin splints at all, but I'm stuck with them for the time being.
 |
| Before the 5k with a friend. I'm the tall one. ;) |
I'm up for re-election for city council this November, but there are four of us running for three seats. Not sure if I'm going to make the cut or not, and, really, win or lose, I'll be fine either way. It's been an honor to serve and very eye opening.
My Write Your Novel class at the community college begins October 17th. It was originally slated to start in September, but not enough people signed up, so they've pushed it to a later date. Frankly, I think that most anyone who wants to take a novel writing class doesn't have the money for the tuition (I have absolutely no control over the price) but we'll see what happens in a couple of weeks. I don't want to push the start into November because there's too much likelihood of crappy winter weather and it's already a pretty long drive for me, let alone the potential students.
Sewing is going all right, when I can carve out time. I've been making smallish, sort-of-artsy quilts for specific people and they've turned out well. They keep me sewing, when I can.
 |
| It's about 22" square, if I remember right. All batik. |
 |
| Two six-inch blocks. Yep, even that one with all of the diamonds. Six inches. |
Frankly, it's the only guaranteed sewing time I have. Wish I had more.
Health is great. Been drinking protein and fruit smoothies every morning, exercising most every evening, and although my weightloss is still stalled - damn you plateaus!!! - I feel awesome. Other than my shins. They're still hurting.
We have a new cat, a rescue named MeowMeow (she came with that name). She's all black other than a few white hairs on her belly and is Very Friendly. I really need to take some pics. ;)
I don't like to end on a downer note, but this past month I lost my long-adored desklamp (it was a miniature draftsman's lamp that I could move around however I wanted) and my granddaughter dumped a full glass of Crystal Light on my Mac keyboard, shorting it out. I have had no luck finding a replacement lamp that I like (sorry, they're all fugly or too big) and I do not like the replacement PC keyboard I'm typing this post on. The command/alt/control/function keys are in the wrong place and, frankly, it can't keep up with my typing or the keys are a slight difference apart or something. I'm getting screwy ass typos which I never used to get and my shortcuts don't work, so I have to pause and find the right key combination. I know it's a nothing first-world kinda problem but it's still aggravating. But we'll be down to Des Moines at some point and I can get a replacement Mac keyboard.
All in all, though, I'm glad autumn is here. I like fall! {{hugs}}
16 June, 2013
Dr. Boyfriend
We have three cats - Abbie (Bill's cat, she's about 15 years old, rather rotund and likes to complain and have doors opened for her), Puufy (my cat, 10 years old this August, extremely fat and fluffy and frequently demands to drink milk or have his food freshened) and Peanut (also my cat, 2 years old, generally easy going, quiet, and playful).
Peanut is in charge. She has been since she was, oh, nine months old or so. She's, by far, the smallest cat in the house (a slender 8lbs or so while Puufy clocks in at around 24 and Abbie about 17). She's light, she's limber, she's very, very sweet.
But no one messes with Peanut. Maybe she's a ninja, I dunno, but I have seen her drop out of trees with a bird in her mouth, so she's super good at that, at least. And if Abbie or Puufy piss her off for whatever reason, she'll flip around and bat at them (looks gentle and playful to me) and they BACK THE HELL OFF RIGHT AWAY with much subordinate posturing.
The pecking order is well established, everyone is cool with it, and all is peaceful in our house of cats.
Enter Dr. Boyfriend, the neighborhood stray tom.
We first met Dr. Boyfriend more than a year ago when he started coming around, mostly trying to start fights with a cat we used to have named Cooper (while very sweet, Coop was huge and prone to improper indoor pooping so he went to become a farm cat), and when our other 'went to the farm' cat Echo went in heat. (She was spayed but apparently had a second uterus and later spooged out four kittens and no local vet would re-spay her. Seriously. Off to the farm with you, crazy alien kitty!!)
Anyway, Dr. Boyfriend is homeless and hungry and, well, we're cat people who feed him and have on more than one occasion taken him in to give him a safe, warm place to heal after getting his ass handed to him by some other critter. He's reasonably friendly, cuddly, and all that, he just wants his freedom, by golly! Gotta woo the babes, don'tcha know?
But poor Dr. Boyfriend is rather small. Here he is with Peanut who is 'regular cat sized' instead of the super jumbo economy sized Abbie and Puufy.
He is literally about half her length and, standing up, the top of his head barely reaches her shoulder. He's heavy and solid, but not very big. No wonder he gets his ass kicked a lot. ;)
I expect the ass kicking to commence any minute now, but it's currently all quiet out in our front yard. Abbie and Puufy, though, have filled up on Meow Mix and taken seats on the wicker furniture to watch the upcoming event. ;)
Peanut is in charge. She has been since she was, oh, nine months old or so. She's, by far, the smallest cat in the house (a slender 8lbs or so while Puufy clocks in at around 24 and Abbie about 17). She's light, she's limber, she's very, very sweet.
But no one messes with Peanut. Maybe she's a ninja, I dunno, but I have seen her drop out of trees with a bird in her mouth, so she's super good at that, at least. And if Abbie or Puufy piss her off for whatever reason, she'll flip around and bat at them (looks gentle and playful to me) and they BACK THE HELL OFF RIGHT AWAY with much subordinate posturing.
The pecking order is well established, everyone is cool with it, and all is peaceful in our house of cats.
Enter Dr. Boyfriend, the neighborhood stray tom.
 |
| Dr. Boyfriend |
Anyway, Dr. Boyfriend is homeless and hungry and, well, we're cat people who feed him and have on more than one occasion taken him in to give him a safe, warm place to heal after getting his ass handed to him by some other critter. He's reasonably friendly, cuddly, and all that, he just wants his freedom, by golly! Gotta woo the babes, don'tcha know?
But poor Dr. Boyfriend is rather small. Here he is with Peanut who is 'regular cat sized' instead of the super jumbo economy sized Abbie and Puufy.
 |
| Uh huh. You're not fooling anyone, Dr. Boyfriend! |
Today, he has decided to take on Peanut. Who seems to find this humorous.
He is literally about half her length and, standing up, the top of his head barely reaches her shoulder. He's heavy and solid, but not very big. No wonder he gets his ass kicked a lot. ;)
She has spent the past half hour or so allowing him to sneak up on her, then she'll glance over her shoulder and give him a look as if to say, ''Seriously, dude? Are you really that stupid?" Then he'll flop onto the ground and chirp and roll to show that it's all play, really, until she turns away and he starts stalking her again.
 |
| I shall hide behind this anthill and grass for a few minutes to give you a sense of safety, Dr. Boyfriend! Bwahaha! |
05 June, 2013
McMusings
We have a toddler in the house. Specifically our granddaughter, who is 18 months old, right about three feet tall, on the slender side, and goes Full Speed All Of The Time.
We refer to it as 'Very. Busy.'
She's a climber (our little monkey) and she wants it all and she wants it now, as most toddlers tend to be. We usually try to burn off some of this excess energy and determination (which helps everyone in the house have a reasonable bedtime, ha ha) by going to the park just beyond our back fence, or by playing for hours on end in the back yard. Preferably both, several times, in any given day.
That's not always possible, especially since we can't seem to go more than a few hours without rain lately. So, what's a tired gramma to do on a rainy day?
Sometimes we go to the mall and I let her run while I scurry along behind (hey, that's exercise for me, too!!). Sometimes we go to the grocery store with all of the cool stuff to look at and taste and people to talk to (and a steering wheel to spin around as she pretends to drive). Sometimes I knock over grandpa's computer chair and she climbs up and over and around and through it, then we make a fort/tent with her favorite blanket, and we wrestle, and stuff like that.
Tuesday night, though, she was wound up after being cooped up all day, Grandpa needed his chair, I had no desire to spend an hour or more literally running around the mall, and we didn't need groceries.
So we went to McDonald's to play in the tubes with other kids.
She was fine, happy and squeeing and going up, down, and all around the kiddy tubes and slides, all while stopping at our table after every circuit to get a drink and something to munch on (my girl loves her unsweetened iced tea and apple slices!!) but some of the other kids... Not so much.
First, I'd like to say that I know boys will be boys and some climbing is gonna happen. When we got there, there were eleven other kids. Eleven. Two, a boy and a girl of, oh, 6-8 years old, were brother and sister and kept trying to figure out how to get past the fencing to behind the tube-maze. Their mother wouldn't let them do more than make feeble attempts, but she did let them climb a little on open areas. Mostly they played and laughed and were just fine. Regular kids.
The other nine? Not so much.
They were there in a group. Four moms, nine kids, seven of which were boys. One little boy was just walking, and there was a girl of about 12, but the rest were spaced roughly between 5 and 10 years old.
These kids, other than the barely walking infant and the nearly pubescent girl, climbed over EVERYTHING. Two of them repeatedly got on the top of the tube contraption, back beyond the fencing to 'off limits areas', and got themselves stuck in places kids obviously weren't supposed to go.
I really didn't mind the climbing much, and, like I said, boys will be boys and they do stuff like that, but, well, when an area is locked, fenced, and marked 'off limits', I tend to think the parents ought to discourage their little darlings from going there. Or their kids being about 20 feet in the air walking on a tube or pipe. But what do I know?
I could let the climbing and generalized naughtiness slide without too much of a second thought, but four of these seven boys (the four biggest) seemed to be trying their best to disassemble the whole dang thing. They jumped up and down on weak points (like a propeller on one of the pod areas). They tugged on the netting, swinging from it, obviously trying to get it to pop out of the bolts and fastenings (but if it had, they would have fallen about fifteen feet). They lay down inside of the tubes and kicked against the inside of view ports over and over and over trying to pop them loose. They kicked, pulled, jumped, wriggled, and slammed everything they possibly could, preferably if it meant they could get into a restricted area to do it.
All the while the mothers sat and watched and did nothing, until the little girl (she was maybe 6??) got stuck in a fenced off area about 10' up in the air. What did her mother do? Marched over to where her daughter was crying for help and told her to jump because it wasn't like she was gonna break her leg or anything. Then she went back to the table and her conversation with her friends.
Seriously.
And the barely walking infant managed to climb all the way into the tubes and get himself up at the top, but unable to find his way back out. They left him up there whimpering while they all walked to the counter to get ice cream.
Maybe I'm weird or old fashioned, but I cannot fathom allowing my kid to be willfully destructive like these kids were. I can't imagine letting a baby who's obviously too small to be in the tubes without assistance be in the tubes without assistance. And I also can't imagine leaving all of my supper mess (including spilled drinks, smeared ketchup, thrown food, and I dunno how many wrappers and napkins) just sitting there on the tables for someone else to clean up.
They all were nice enough to my granddaughter, gave her space to do her thing, smiled at her, told her 'hi' and other friendly things, and a couple of the kids even talked to me as they gleefully tried to jump on the propeller until it broke. So they weren't all bad, just... physically out of control, and no one seemed to give a damn.
We refer to it as 'Very. Busy.'
She's a climber (our little monkey) and she wants it all and she wants it now, as most toddlers tend to be. We usually try to burn off some of this excess energy and determination (which helps everyone in the house have a reasonable bedtime, ha ha) by going to the park just beyond our back fence, or by playing for hours on end in the back yard. Preferably both, several times, in any given day.
That's not always possible, especially since we can't seem to go more than a few hours without rain lately. So, what's a tired gramma to do on a rainy day?
Sometimes we go to the mall and I let her run while I scurry along behind (hey, that's exercise for me, too!!). Sometimes we go to the grocery store with all of the cool stuff to look at and taste and people to talk to (and a steering wheel to spin around as she pretends to drive). Sometimes I knock over grandpa's computer chair and she climbs up and over and around and through it, then we make a fort/tent with her favorite blanket, and we wrestle, and stuff like that.
Tuesday night, though, she was wound up after being cooped up all day, Grandpa needed his chair, I had no desire to spend an hour or more literally running around the mall, and we didn't need groceries.
So we went to McDonald's to play in the tubes with other kids.
She was fine, happy and squeeing and going up, down, and all around the kiddy tubes and slides, all while stopping at our table after every circuit to get a drink and something to munch on (my girl loves her unsweetened iced tea and apple slices!!) but some of the other kids... Not so much.
First, I'd like to say that I know boys will be boys and some climbing is gonna happen. When we got there, there were eleven other kids. Eleven. Two, a boy and a girl of, oh, 6-8 years old, were brother and sister and kept trying to figure out how to get past the fencing to behind the tube-maze. Their mother wouldn't let them do more than make feeble attempts, but she did let them climb a little on open areas. Mostly they played and laughed and were just fine. Regular kids.
The other nine? Not so much.
They were there in a group. Four moms, nine kids, seven of which were boys. One little boy was just walking, and there was a girl of about 12, but the rest were spaced roughly between 5 and 10 years old.
These kids, other than the barely walking infant and the nearly pubescent girl, climbed over EVERYTHING. Two of them repeatedly got on the top of the tube contraption, back beyond the fencing to 'off limits areas', and got themselves stuck in places kids obviously weren't supposed to go.
I really didn't mind the climbing much, and, like I said, boys will be boys and they do stuff like that, but, well, when an area is locked, fenced, and marked 'off limits', I tend to think the parents ought to discourage their little darlings from going there. Or their kids being about 20 feet in the air walking on a tube or pipe. But what do I know?
I could let the climbing and generalized naughtiness slide without too much of a second thought, but four of these seven boys (the four biggest) seemed to be trying their best to disassemble the whole dang thing. They jumped up and down on weak points (like a propeller on one of the pod areas). They tugged on the netting, swinging from it, obviously trying to get it to pop out of the bolts and fastenings (but if it had, they would have fallen about fifteen feet). They lay down inside of the tubes and kicked against the inside of view ports over and over and over trying to pop them loose. They kicked, pulled, jumped, wriggled, and slammed everything they possibly could, preferably if it meant they could get into a restricted area to do it.
All the while the mothers sat and watched and did nothing, until the little girl (she was maybe 6??) got stuck in a fenced off area about 10' up in the air. What did her mother do? Marched over to where her daughter was crying for help and told her to jump because it wasn't like she was gonna break her leg or anything. Then she went back to the table and her conversation with her friends.
Seriously.
And the barely walking infant managed to climb all the way into the tubes and get himself up at the top, but unable to find his way back out. They left him up there whimpering while they all walked to the counter to get ice cream.
Maybe I'm weird or old fashioned, but I cannot fathom allowing my kid to be willfully destructive like these kids were. I can't imagine letting a baby who's obviously too small to be in the tubes without assistance be in the tubes without assistance. And I also can't imagine leaving all of my supper mess (including spilled drinks, smeared ketchup, thrown food, and I dunno how many wrappers and napkins) just sitting there on the tables for someone else to clean up.
They all were nice enough to my granddaughter, gave her space to do her thing, smiled at her, told her 'hi' and other friendly things, and a couple of the kids even talked to me as they gleefully tried to jump on the propeller until it broke. So they weren't all bad, just... physically out of control, and no one seemed to give a damn.
04 June, 2013
Getting Fixed
I come from a long line of big, friendly people and, for much of my life, I was the smallest of my siblings, and even smaller than some of the extended family.
Since I'm tall, and 'extra cuddly' sized, that's saying a lot.
Other than sinus allergies and Rosacea, I've always been healthy, despite being heavy. My brother had his stomach done a few years ago, my sister has lost more than 100 lbs with the help of TOPS, but I remained basically the same weight, at least within 10 lbs or so, for more than twenty years. I also have extreme self confidence issues, part due to the introversion, part not. They all tend to compound and reflect back on one another. Overweight, introverted, depressed, fearful, avoidant, self loathing! Welcome to the family ferris wheel! Round and round we go!
Things started to change for me when we moved up here in 2008. Our daughter went off to college (she's back home now, with a daughter of her own) and it gave me what could best be described as too much spare time. I used a good hunk of it to change myself and my mindsets, starting with Lasik. I've always been dreadfully nearsighted (just like my mother), but when bifocals became necessary, I lost all depth perception and started falling/tripping. A LOT. Yeah, I'm introverted, but the necessity of staying home because walking out in the world meant tripping over the tiniest cracks and falling on my face was a very scary prospect. Anyway, I got lasered in 2009 and now only need glasses to read, which is pretty cool.
It was astounding to me how much losing my glasses opened up my life and my mind. One of the many, many shields I'd manufactured for myself was no longer there to hide behind and it was a terrifying yet liberating experience. But, hey, it was a start! With that barricade destroyed, I decided to deal with the writing demon. Writing, for me, had never been a pleasant endeavor, always mired in angst and pain and anger. I used it to vent, to purge, to drain off internal poisons, and to let the darkness loose before it ate me alive. I stopped writing after Valley of the Soul for a lot of reasons, but pretty much all of them were, admittedly, psychological and based on fear. Once my eyes were fixed, I decided to stare at the writing monster once again and make it my bitch instead of the other way around.
In 2010, I wrote an amazing, twisty, hopeful novel called Morgan's Run. Almost everyone who's read it has gushed and raved about it, but it was, supposedly, 'unsellable'. I'm not exactly sure why. My only theory is it's because the MC (a child abuse survivor suffering with extreme PTSD) and her situation are rather nuts. Morgan's crazy, yes, but that's why I like her so much.
There's still hope for Morgan - YAY!! - and I'm trying to figure out how to tweak her into a NA book instead of a mainstream psycho-thriller. I'm so excited she still has hope. :)
While working on Morgan's Run, writing once again became a compulsion, but not a painful one. I considered this to be great progress. Unlike the Dubric books, she wasn't an endless trudge of pain and suffering and cutting my psyche open to slap the bloody mess onto the page while it lay there twitching and screaming. There was blood, yes, and pain and tears, but none of it was forced, and none hurt more than it helped. Morgan's Run was incredibly cathartic. And short. I think it's about 95,000 words which for me isn't much longer than a short story. lol
Anyway, I adore Morgan and I'm so, so glad she might yet find a home.
While working on Morgan, I kind of forced myself to become more outgoing. I served as Treasurer for our quilt guild, I worked part-part time at a quilt shop (talking to real people!! Aaack!!), I got onto FaceBook, I self published three short stories (all of the proceeds go to charity), and I joined the Des Moines chapter of Sisters In Crime.
I've cut back some on my responsibilities (SinC especially since time and gas are at a premium) but I'm still making myself be involved in things outside of my head and home. But, anyway, Morgan wasn't selling and I really, really wanted to get back to work as a writer, so I asked my agent what he thought I should write next. I gave him short synopses/concepts of several ideas I had. He picked SPORE, a book about a haunted comic book artist and people who are no longer dead, so in 2012, I began.
Also, around that time, I noticed my knees were becoming increasingly problematic, my feet hurt all of the time, and my energy level... Frankly it sucked. All of my medical particulars were still just fine, but I really needed to deal with the excess weight. I wrestled a long, long time with this because I was hiding behind my weight. It was just one more barrier. I knew it, my husband knew it, my physician knew it. Shit, everyone who knew me knew it. I, however, was reluctant to lose that last bastion of safety. But I needed to. Having been overweight for nearly my entire life, I'd tried losing weight before, with almost every possible plan under the sun. Nothing had ever worked, or more accurately, nothing had ever 'stuck' because I'd slip up and throw in the towel. So, what to do?? My friends Jean and Wendy had found a good deal of success with Weight Watchers, and while I'd tried them decades ago (I think I was still in high school) my research showed that they were highly rated on successes, especially in the long term. I liked the idea of structure with flexibility, and I liked that going to meetings meant you weren't doing it all alone.
I kind of need some sort of real accountability.
So I talked it over with Bill and, despite the cost (oy, the cost!!!) I joined up in September, with meetings plus online. Also, contrary to my natural cheap nature, I'm all in. I buy the smoothies, I buy the fiber bars, I have the exercise DVDs, the whole shebang, even the ActiveLink fitness monitor, which has been a godsend at keeping me from sitting on my ass all day.
As of my last weigh in, I'm down 36 lbs. Not as fast as I'd like (it never is) but averaging a pound a week is pretty cool. Bill is ecstatic, my physician is ecstatic, and my clothes are all too big. My shoes are too big. It's insane. I'm looking at doing a 5k this fall, just walking it - my knees won't stand for a run longer than a minute or so - but Damn. Me. I still have a long way to go, but this is totally doable, long term, lifetime, forever. And it's making other things better, every lost pound lets in a little more light.
SPORE is done - it was a frustrating pleasure to write and I finished it right before Thanksgiving last year - and I'm currently awaiting another batch of changes from The Agent. It will, with luck, sell to a major publisher sometime this year. I hope it does. I hope he can find a publisher for Morgan too, assuming I can nudge her into the New Adult realm.
I need another book to work on, but so far my brain keeps downshifting back to Morgan and SPORE. I'm not sure why, exactly, maybe because they're still 'unfinished business', maybe because the true concept of the next great twisty story hasn't yet taken root in my brain (I have a few seedlings, but nothing strong enough to pull on yet). I'm not sure, but I'm also not worried. Frustration with writing is no longer about facing the pain, it's about trying to cram a pissed off bobcat into a gallon ziplock bag. Length. Good golly, I fight LENGTH. How the hell does anyone write a coherent book under 90k?? I struggle to trim to get it to squeeze in under 100 and would much rather have 150. It's a FIGHT I tell ya! That's the hard part, keeping it short enough to sell.
And for that I am ever so thankful. After Dubric, I honestly never thought I'd enjoy writing, but I do.
Since I'm tall, and 'extra cuddly' sized, that's saying a lot.
Other than sinus allergies and Rosacea, I've always been healthy, despite being heavy. My brother had his stomach done a few years ago, my sister has lost more than 100 lbs with the help of TOPS, but I remained basically the same weight, at least within 10 lbs or so, for more than twenty years. I also have extreme self confidence issues, part due to the introversion, part not. They all tend to compound and reflect back on one another. Overweight, introverted, depressed, fearful, avoidant, self loathing! Welcome to the family ferris wheel! Round and round we go!
 |
| Me, 2012, before I decided to wrestle the weight tiger. |
 |
| I like funky reading glasses. :) |
In 2010, I wrote an amazing, twisty, hopeful novel called Morgan's Run. Almost everyone who's read it has gushed and raved about it, but it was, supposedly, 'unsellable'. I'm not exactly sure why. My only theory is it's because the MC (a child abuse survivor suffering with extreme PTSD) and her situation are rather nuts. Morgan's crazy, yes, but that's why I like her so much.
There's still hope for Morgan - YAY!! - and I'm trying to figure out how to tweak her into a NA book instead of a mainstream psycho-thriller. I'm so excited she still has hope. :)
While working on Morgan's Run, writing once again became a compulsion, but not a painful one. I considered this to be great progress. Unlike the Dubric books, she wasn't an endless trudge of pain and suffering and cutting my psyche open to slap the bloody mess onto the page while it lay there twitching and screaming. There was blood, yes, and pain and tears, but none of it was forced, and none hurt more than it helped. Morgan's Run was incredibly cathartic. And short. I think it's about 95,000 words which for me isn't much longer than a short story. lol
Anyway, I adore Morgan and I'm so, so glad she might yet find a home.
While working on Morgan, I kind of forced myself to become more outgoing. I served as Treasurer for our quilt guild, I worked part-part time at a quilt shop (talking to real people!! Aaack!!), I got onto FaceBook, I self published three short stories (all of the proceeds go to charity), and I joined the Des Moines chapter of Sisters In Crime.
I've cut back some on my responsibilities (SinC especially since time and gas are at a premium) but I'm still making myself be involved in things outside of my head and home. But, anyway, Morgan wasn't selling and I really, really wanted to get back to work as a writer, so I asked my agent what he thought I should write next. I gave him short synopses/concepts of several ideas I had. He picked SPORE, a book about a haunted comic book artist and people who are no longer dead, so in 2012, I began.
Also, around that time, I noticed my knees were becoming increasingly problematic, my feet hurt all of the time, and my energy level... Frankly it sucked. All of my medical particulars were still just fine, but I really needed to deal with the excess weight. I wrestled a long, long time with this because I was hiding behind my weight. It was just one more barrier. I knew it, my husband knew it, my physician knew it. Shit, everyone who knew me knew it. I, however, was reluctant to lose that last bastion of safety. But I needed to. Having been overweight for nearly my entire life, I'd tried losing weight before, with almost every possible plan under the sun. Nothing had ever worked, or more accurately, nothing had ever 'stuck' because I'd slip up and throw in the towel. So, what to do?? My friends Jean and Wendy had found a good deal of success with Weight Watchers, and while I'd tried them decades ago (I think I was still in high school) my research showed that they were highly rated on successes, especially in the long term. I liked the idea of structure with flexibility, and I liked that going to meetings meant you weren't doing it all alone.
I kind of need some sort of real accountability.
So I talked it over with Bill and, despite the cost (oy, the cost!!!) I joined up in September, with meetings plus online. Also, contrary to my natural cheap nature, I'm all in. I buy the smoothies, I buy the fiber bars, I have the exercise DVDs, the whole shebang, even the ActiveLink fitness monitor, which has been a godsend at keeping me from sitting on my ass all day.
 |
| Me, today. |
SPORE is done - it was a frustrating pleasure to write and I finished it right before Thanksgiving last year - and I'm currently awaiting another batch of changes from The Agent. It will, with luck, sell to a major publisher sometime this year. I hope it does. I hope he can find a publisher for Morgan too, assuming I can nudge her into the New Adult realm.
I need another book to work on, but so far my brain keeps downshifting back to Morgan and SPORE. I'm not sure why, exactly, maybe because they're still 'unfinished business', maybe because the true concept of the next great twisty story hasn't yet taken root in my brain (I have a few seedlings, but nothing strong enough to pull on yet). I'm not sure, but I'm also not worried. Frustration with writing is no longer about facing the pain, it's about trying to cram a pissed off bobcat into a gallon ziplock bag. Length. Good golly, I fight LENGTH. How the hell does anyone write a coherent book under 90k?? I struggle to trim to get it to squeeze in under 100 and would much rather have 150. It's a FIGHT I tell ya! That's the hard part, keeping it short enough to sell.
And for that I am ever so thankful. After Dubric, I honestly never thought I'd enjoy writing, but I do.
03 June, 2013
Three months
That's apparently how long it takes me to make myself write a blog post.
Too long, I know, but even after a decade of doing this, I'm still not a comfortable blogger.
I have a rather mundane, quiet, non-eventful life, and that's just fine with me. It does, however, make blog topics tougher to root up, since I doubt anyone cares about folding laundry, yelling at the dog to quit barking his fool head off because some other dog has dared to pee in his yard, or cooking porkchops. Which we had for supper tonight, mostly because they were in the front part of the freezer and Bill loves porky chops.
I'd asked a few friends yesterday about potential blog topics, and have decided today to talk about where we live. In June of 2008, we moved from the 'Des Moines Metro' (which in our case meant unincorporated almost rural dead-end dirt road nowhere a few miles outside of Des Moines) to a small town in Northwest Iowa, because of Bill's job. He works for the post office and he used to fix the mechanical parts of the mail sorting machines (belts, hoses, chains, etc) but the move came with a promotion to fixing the electronic parts (wiring, computery bits, switches, etc) and a pretty hefty pay increase.
To say we 'jumped on that puppy' would be an understatement.
So, anyway, we moved up here, and bought a pretty cool Victorian house on a large lot near the middle of a very small town. We went from an acreage to 'in town', and it's something all of us still struggle with, but for different reasons. For Bill, there's Not. Enough. Outdoor. Space. and he feels kind of fenced in and claustrophobic even though we have one of the largest lots in town. For our daughter, who grew up 10 minutes from movies, shopping, restaurants, and countless buildings taller than 2 stories, it's 'too country'. For me, it's just about right, other than All. The. People. which I'll get to in a moment.
Plus there's no good barbeque up here. The closest is more than an hour away. Seriously, that bites.
Anyway, there are less than 600 people here in our little community and it's, roughly, seven streets running East/West crisscrossed by seven streets running North/South in a sort of cockeyed, jaggedy-edged fashion. I walk the outskirts most evenings around dusk, and, including walking from my house to the west edge, then back to the house again after making the complete circuit, Google Maps says it's a 2 mile trek. So it's less than 1/2 mile on a side. Ish. That's pretty small. We have the stereotypical one church and one bar (plus a gas station/convenience store that sells chips, pop, candy and a few non-perishable staples at slightly higher prices than the grocery store 10-12 miles away) a feed store, a grain co-op, a post office (only open a few hours a day), a fire station, and a very small library which doesn't carry my books. The town is bisected by a N/S highway (in Iowa that means 2 lane blacktop) and an E/W highway. The next closest town is about 8 miles straight East and they have a quilt shop. I'm there quite a lot. Between us and any of the surrounding towns are miles and miles of corn and soybean fields. Oh, there are a few farm houses and a stream or two (and the occasional grazing cow or horse) but it's pretty much all crops. This time of year, and after our lengthy and very wet spring, the fields are pretty much all mud. Normally, everything would be planted, but not this year. Not yet, at least. And there's worry there may be no soybean crop at all.
You get the idea.
Our house backs up to the largest of three city parks - no close by neighbors that way - but we had single, retired women on each side of us, until one of them moved to Western Arkansas last year. Or maybe it was Eastern Oklahoma. I honestly don't remember. The gal on the one side is still here, and she's very much into lawn work and has a GORGEOUS yard. Manicured lawn, flower beds, decorative do-dah's. It's just lovely. She has a little Westie named Mookie. Mookie is quite cool, but he and our Gozer (big, gruff lab mix) do not get along. She has a friend a couple of blocks away who picked apples from our tree the fall after we moved here and is super nice. The other single gal's house was put on the market last year and had a renter, then a contract buyer, but it just sold this past week. I think the new owner and his teenage daughter mowed yesterday. We all nodded hello, but didn't talk.
Across the street is a couple about our age with grown children and a lot of dogs. They both work and aren't home much. They're on a corner. Across that street from them is the Lions' Club secretary and his family (I think he works at a lab. I think). Beyond him, I have no idea. Next to the gal who has moved's house (and across our street from the Lion's Secretary) was an older guy and his adult daughter. I believe he was an over the road truck driver, and she came back home after a divorce/breakup/job loss, but no one's seen them for a long time so I guess they've moved. They had a couple of big mixed breed dogs.
It's weird, I know people by their dogs. lol
On the other side of the middle aged couple with all of the dogs is an elderly man (pretty sure he used to work for the grain co-op because the trucks always honk as they pass his house) and his middle aged daughter. She works at the community gas station. They don't have a dog. Past them on that side of the street... I don't know anyone, but I know their neighbors let their dogs loose to potty and of course they cross the street and come over here to pee on our maple tree and drive Gozer bugshit insane. They are friendly dogs, tho.
Past the lady beside us with the Westie and the gorgeous lawn is an older couple with 2 Daschunds. He is a semi-retired teacher, and I have no idea what she does. We've actually only talked to them because last summer he fell off a ladder and she knew I was home so she ran over here asking for help. That's how we met. Really. Otherwise I'd have no idea. Their dogs are cool though and every time we walk up the alley they rush at the fence, barking, and we laugh about the attack of the ferocious wiener dogs. They're not ferocious at all, just wiggly and waggly and barking. Very cute. Our cats like to tease them. The house past them (on the corner) has two old retriever mixes and a wire haired fox terrier looking mutt dog. And a gorgeous calico cat. Across the alley from them (toward the park behind our house) has a LOT of kids, a different calico cat, and a friendly mixed breed dog. Across the street from the folks with the retrievers and wire-haired mix is a younger family with two gorgeous Dalmatians. I dunno what he does, but she works at the lab and is on the city council.
On the far side of the park, at the corner, is the Lions club president and his family. He's the only one we've ever met. A block or so west of the park is the city maintenance guy and his family. His son just became and Eagle Scout. A couple of blocks north and one block west of us is the mayor's house. He and his wife have two daughters (they frequently come to our door selling stuff for church, school, girl scouts, etc) and they have great danes plus foster cats for the humane society.
Oh! Right next to the park (across the street from the big house with lots of kids and the friendly mixed breed dog) is the house with the camper and two Boston Terriers, both of which are sometimes loose and running the town and have tried to bite us as we take walks. We do not like the Boston Terriers much. Gozer chooses to pee on them instead of opening the can of whup-ass like he does with little Mookie next door. It's actually kind of funny in a twisted kind of way to see the PITA terriers frozen in fear and getting peed on. But Mookie does talk a lot of smack while the Boston Terriers are pretty much silent, so I guess it makes sense in doggy logic.
That's pretty much everyone we know, usually via their pets, other than the other city council members and a couple of firemen, who we know on sight, but have no idea where they live in town. Oh! I've spoken a couple of times with the local Pastor, who is an incredibly nice man, and there's a house across from the library who have cut a hole in their garage to help feed and shelter the local stray cats, plus the couple across from the fire station who make a point to keep cat food out for the strays (we do too) so we sort of but not really know a few cat people too. And the gal who babysits and brings the kids to the park behind our house. My granddaughter and I go over to play with them most mornings.
So we've lived her five years this month and know only a handful of people. Which, frankly, was just fine with me. I am incredibly introverted, but, um, well, I'm also political. And apparently personable or friendly or something. Because in March I was, sort of appointed to the City Council, much to my introversion's terror.
Two people had just left the council, one in retirement, one because of moving to follow a job, and the council needed two more members, pronto. I was approached by our city clerk (she lives in a town about 10 miles north of us) asking if I'd be interested in taking a seat until the elections this November. I agreed, mostly because I am rather political (I go to caucus, I vote, and I try to pay attention to issues) and because I feel that as a citizen, there are certain things that, when asked, are duties and responsibilities. So I said okay.
Five of us apparently said okay, because five of us showed up for the two open seats and the mayor decided to put our names in a hat (actually it was a coffee cup) and draw them. I was drawn first, then the other new councilman (who I think, but am not certain, owns the troublesome Boston Terriers).
Then, at Easter, the Lions Club had their annual Easter Egg Hunt and, with the candy, included a note explaining they were down to a scant few members and if they didn't get more members they'd have to disband. I'm pretty much pro Easter Egg Hunting, and Halloween Parties, and Christmas Parties and, well, generally Pro Kid Activities, so now Bill and I both are also Lions.
While I'm delighted to help, I'm not sure I like all of this Public Exposure stuff very much. Just this past week, I found myself in the middle of an issue between the local bar, fire department, and Lions simply because I agreed to do someone a favor.
Sigh. I do not like drama.
Anyway, I love our little town, it's the perfect size for me, but I'm not sure yet if I'll run for reelection this fall, or how long I will be a Lion. Guess it'll depend on how much socializing I can take. When I walk into the gas station for a pop and people there greet my arrival with 'Hey Tammy!', it's a bit much.
So we'll see.
Too long, I know, but even after a decade of doing this, I'm still not a comfortable blogger.
I have a rather mundane, quiet, non-eventful life, and that's just fine with me. It does, however, make blog topics tougher to root up, since I doubt anyone cares about folding laundry, yelling at the dog to quit barking his fool head off because some other dog has dared to pee in his yard, or cooking porkchops. Which we had for supper tonight, mostly because they were in the front part of the freezer and Bill loves porky chops.
I'd asked a few friends yesterday about potential blog topics, and have decided today to talk about where we live. In June of 2008, we moved from the 'Des Moines Metro' (which in our case meant unincorporated almost rural dead-end dirt road nowhere a few miles outside of Des Moines) to a small town in Northwest Iowa, because of Bill's job. He works for the post office and he used to fix the mechanical parts of the mail sorting machines (belts, hoses, chains, etc) but the move came with a promotion to fixing the electronic parts (wiring, computery bits, switches, etc) and a pretty hefty pay increase.
To say we 'jumped on that puppy' would be an understatement.
So, anyway, we moved up here, and bought a pretty cool Victorian house on a large lot near the middle of a very small town. We went from an acreage to 'in town', and it's something all of us still struggle with, but for different reasons. For Bill, there's Not. Enough. Outdoor. Space. and he feels kind of fenced in and claustrophobic even though we have one of the largest lots in town. For our daughter, who grew up 10 minutes from movies, shopping, restaurants, and countless buildings taller than 2 stories, it's 'too country'. For me, it's just about right, other than All. The. People. which I'll get to in a moment.
Plus there's no good barbeque up here. The closest is more than an hour away. Seriously, that bites.
Anyway, there are less than 600 people here in our little community and it's, roughly, seven streets running East/West crisscrossed by seven streets running North/South in a sort of cockeyed, jaggedy-edged fashion. I walk the outskirts most evenings around dusk, and, including walking from my house to the west edge, then back to the house again after making the complete circuit, Google Maps says it's a 2 mile trek. So it's less than 1/2 mile on a side. Ish. That's pretty small. We have the stereotypical one church and one bar (plus a gas station/convenience store that sells chips, pop, candy and a few non-perishable staples at slightly higher prices than the grocery store 10-12 miles away) a feed store, a grain co-op, a post office (only open a few hours a day), a fire station, and a very small library which doesn't carry my books. The town is bisected by a N/S highway (in Iowa that means 2 lane blacktop) and an E/W highway. The next closest town is about 8 miles straight East and they have a quilt shop. I'm there quite a lot. Between us and any of the surrounding towns are miles and miles of corn and soybean fields. Oh, there are a few farm houses and a stream or two (and the occasional grazing cow or horse) but it's pretty much all crops. This time of year, and after our lengthy and very wet spring, the fields are pretty much all mud. Normally, everything would be planted, but not this year. Not yet, at least. And there's worry there may be no soybean crop at all.
You get the idea.
Our house backs up to the largest of three city parks - no close by neighbors that way - but we had single, retired women on each side of us, until one of them moved to Western Arkansas last year. Or maybe it was Eastern Oklahoma. I honestly don't remember. The gal on the one side is still here, and she's very much into lawn work and has a GORGEOUS yard. Manicured lawn, flower beds, decorative do-dah's. It's just lovely. She has a little Westie named Mookie. Mookie is quite cool, but he and our Gozer (big, gruff lab mix) do not get along. She has a friend a couple of blocks away who picked apples from our tree the fall after we moved here and is super nice. The other single gal's house was put on the market last year and had a renter, then a contract buyer, but it just sold this past week. I think the new owner and his teenage daughter mowed yesterday. We all nodded hello, but didn't talk.
Across the street is a couple about our age with grown children and a lot of dogs. They both work and aren't home much. They're on a corner. Across that street from them is the Lions' Club secretary and his family (I think he works at a lab. I think). Beyond him, I have no idea. Next to the gal who has moved's house (and across our street from the Lion's Secretary) was an older guy and his adult daughter. I believe he was an over the road truck driver, and she came back home after a divorce/breakup/job loss, but no one's seen them for a long time so I guess they've moved. They had a couple of big mixed breed dogs.
It's weird, I know people by their dogs. lol
On the other side of the middle aged couple with all of the dogs is an elderly man (pretty sure he used to work for the grain co-op because the trucks always honk as they pass his house) and his middle aged daughter. She works at the community gas station. They don't have a dog. Past them on that side of the street... I don't know anyone, but I know their neighbors let their dogs loose to potty and of course they cross the street and come over here to pee on our maple tree and drive Gozer bugshit insane. They are friendly dogs, tho.
Past the lady beside us with the Westie and the gorgeous lawn is an older couple with 2 Daschunds. He is a semi-retired teacher, and I have no idea what she does. We've actually only talked to them because last summer he fell off a ladder and she knew I was home so she ran over here asking for help. That's how we met. Really. Otherwise I'd have no idea. Their dogs are cool though and every time we walk up the alley they rush at the fence, barking, and we laugh about the attack of the ferocious wiener dogs. They're not ferocious at all, just wiggly and waggly and barking. Very cute. Our cats like to tease them. The house past them (on the corner) has two old retriever mixes and a wire haired fox terrier looking mutt dog. And a gorgeous calico cat. Across the alley from them (toward the park behind our house) has a LOT of kids, a different calico cat, and a friendly mixed breed dog. Across the street from the folks with the retrievers and wire-haired mix is a younger family with two gorgeous Dalmatians. I dunno what he does, but she works at the lab and is on the city council.
On the far side of the park, at the corner, is the Lions club president and his family. He's the only one we've ever met. A block or so west of the park is the city maintenance guy and his family. His son just became and Eagle Scout. A couple of blocks north and one block west of us is the mayor's house. He and his wife have two daughters (they frequently come to our door selling stuff for church, school, girl scouts, etc) and they have great danes plus foster cats for the humane society.
Oh! Right next to the park (across the street from the big house with lots of kids and the friendly mixed breed dog) is the house with the camper and two Boston Terriers, both of which are sometimes loose and running the town and have tried to bite us as we take walks. We do not like the Boston Terriers much. Gozer chooses to pee on them instead of opening the can of whup-ass like he does with little Mookie next door. It's actually kind of funny in a twisted kind of way to see the PITA terriers frozen in fear and getting peed on. But Mookie does talk a lot of smack while the Boston Terriers are pretty much silent, so I guess it makes sense in doggy logic.
That's pretty much everyone we know, usually via their pets, other than the other city council members and a couple of firemen, who we know on sight, but have no idea where they live in town. Oh! I've spoken a couple of times with the local Pastor, who is an incredibly nice man, and there's a house across from the library who have cut a hole in their garage to help feed and shelter the local stray cats, plus the couple across from the fire station who make a point to keep cat food out for the strays (we do too) so we sort of but not really know a few cat people too. And the gal who babysits and brings the kids to the park behind our house. My granddaughter and I go over to play with them most mornings.
So we've lived her five years this month and know only a handful of people. Which, frankly, was just fine with me. I am incredibly introverted, but, um, well, I'm also political. And apparently personable or friendly or something. Because in March I was, sort of appointed to the City Council, much to my introversion's terror.
Two people had just left the council, one in retirement, one because of moving to follow a job, and the council needed two more members, pronto. I was approached by our city clerk (she lives in a town about 10 miles north of us) asking if I'd be interested in taking a seat until the elections this November. I agreed, mostly because I am rather political (I go to caucus, I vote, and I try to pay attention to issues) and because I feel that as a citizen, there are certain things that, when asked, are duties and responsibilities. So I said okay.
Five of us apparently said okay, because five of us showed up for the two open seats and the mayor decided to put our names in a hat (actually it was a coffee cup) and draw them. I was drawn first, then the other new councilman (who I think, but am not certain, owns the troublesome Boston Terriers).
Then, at Easter, the Lions Club had their annual Easter Egg Hunt and, with the candy, included a note explaining they were down to a scant few members and if they didn't get more members they'd have to disband. I'm pretty much pro Easter Egg Hunting, and Halloween Parties, and Christmas Parties and, well, generally Pro Kid Activities, so now Bill and I both are also Lions.
While I'm delighted to help, I'm not sure I like all of this Public Exposure stuff very much. Just this past week, I found myself in the middle of an issue between the local bar, fire department, and Lions simply because I agreed to do someone a favor.
Sigh. I do not like drama.
Anyway, I love our little town, it's the perfect size for me, but I'm not sure yet if I'll run for reelection this fall, or how long I will be a Lion. Guess it'll depend on how much socializing I can take. When I walk into the gas station for a pop and people there greet my arrival with 'Hey Tammy!', it's a bit much.
So we'll see.
22 February, 2013
Ch-ch-ch-changes!
Just wanted to give a quick update on SPORE.
Things are going great!
I've had some input from NY and I'm very pleased with the direction the book's taking. Most of the suggested changes have been minor (there's a setting issue, a deployment of the spores issue, stuff like that, and I even get to add another character!! OMG!! YAY!!!! Do you have any idea how HARD it is for me to write tightly cast books?!? I LOVE writing lots of characters!!) and while I have to admit I felt a momentary 'I'm not perfect! My book isn't perfect! Waaah!' sting (frankly who is perfect? It certainly isn't me or my books! lol) I'm absolutely on board with all of it. In fact, I'm excited!
Even including apotential likely title change.
Why?
There are a handful of reasons ranging from 'out here in the sticks I know jack-diddly about the market or what publishers are buying' to the knowledge that the book is really a product I create and my job is simply to write the best product I can, and all sorts of business-related reasons between. But the real reason is I know what few aspects of the book are really, truly important to me, and what grows behind Sean's house frankly isn't on that list. How the spores erupt isn't on that list. Even the title isn't on that list. Nope. Not even close. All of that stuff's just writer ego, and if I've learned anything it's to leave my ego at the door and do the damned job.
I've discussed my vital needs for this book with my husband and a couple of close friends and, so far, those few things are still included in the book. They will remain included because one character relationship issue and two story concepts are absolutely vital to the story I want to tell. Yup, just three things.
The rest is window dressing.
I'm thankful that the agent seems to love those things too - yay!! - but, really, his suggestions and questions just mean more typing, more thinking, and more research. So what? Fix it, make the story the best, shiniest, most profitable product it can be. That is a writer's job, after all: to tell a damned good story.
This weekend I'm researching ideas and brainstorming not only one more important character but a few other things that'll scuff off the remaining snags and make this book scream.
I'm so excited! So thrilled!
This is freaking awesome and I'm awed that it's going so well. {{hugs}}
Things are going great!
I've had some input from NY and I'm very pleased with the direction the book's taking. Most of the suggested changes have been minor (there's a setting issue, a deployment of the spores issue, stuff like that, and I even get to add another character!! OMG!! YAY!!!! Do you have any idea how HARD it is for me to write tightly cast books?!? I LOVE writing lots of characters!!) and while I have to admit I felt a momentary 'I'm not perfect! My book isn't perfect! Waaah!' sting (frankly who is perfect? It certainly isn't me or my books! lol) I'm absolutely on board with all of it. In fact, I'm excited!
Even including a
Why?
There are a handful of reasons ranging from 'out here in the sticks I know jack-diddly about the market or what publishers are buying' to the knowledge that the book is really a product I create and my job is simply to write the best product I can, and all sorts of business-related reasons between. But the real reason is I know what few aspects of the book are really, truly important to me, and what grows behind Sean's house frankly isn't on that list. How the spores erupt isn't on that list. Even the title isn't on that list. Nope. Not even close. All of that stuff's just writer ego, and if I've learned anything it's to leave my ego at the door and do the damned job.
I've discussed my vital needs for this book with my husband and a couple of close friends and, so far, those few things are still included in the book. They will remain included because one character relationship issue and two story concepts are absolutely vital to the story I want to tell. Yup, just three things.
The rest is window dressing.
I'm thankful that the agent seems to love those things too - yay!! - but, really, his suggestions and questions just mean more typing, more thinking, and more research. So what? Fix it, make the story the best, shiniest, most profitable product it can be. That is a writer's job, after all: to tell a damned good story.
This weekend I'm researching ideas and brainstorming not only one more important character but a few other things that'll scuff off the remaining snags and make this book scream.
I'm so excited! So thrilled!
This is freaking awesome and I'm awed that it's going so well. {{hugs}}
27 July, 2012
Sorry to have missed you. Oppressive heat will be back soon.
It's been incredibly hot and dry here, and Iowa is not known for either of those things. Sure, we get hot, a few days each summer around a hundred degrees, but along with the heat comes about 90+% humidity. Usually, in late July, you can see the air - it's whitish - because it's so crammed full of moisture. Many nights, there's a thunderstorm which will, temporarily, cut the heat and force some of the humidity to precipitate, instead of floating forever in the air. There's a relief, usually a short day or two, then it's hot and humid again.
Not this year.
We've had about a month at or around 100˚F. We've had about a month with humidity around 25%, which we don't usually hit except in the coldest parts of winter. We have rivers that have dried up, or are little more than a trickle. The corn is already turning brown with teeny, skinny cobs about the size of my thumb. The beans haven't grown tall or fluffed and just sit there slowly turning yellow. Instead of perfect growing conditions for grass, grains, and trees, everything is becoming crispy. Trees are shedding leaves, lawns are brown, and, frankly, wildlife, which is usually plentiful even in town, has all but disappeared. My bet is the deer, raccoons, possums and whatnot are staying near what few water sources remain, but I can't be sure. Even the birds are trimmed back, the mornings silent instead of filled with birdsong.
For someone used to sticky humid summers where we have to mow the lawn every other day, this is really distressing. There's a lot of worry that if we don't get a lot of rain this fall, before freeze, what fish remain in the rivers and lakes won't survive the winter. And neither will the trees. And who knows what the crap crops will do to our already faltering local economy.
Scary stuff.
Long term forecasts indicate the hot dry slow bake of the midwest will continue until mid September. Or maybe October. And once it starts raining, it won't stop. Maybe. If it starts raining at all. They think.
I just know that farmers here are selling their cattle because, with hay reaching $1500 a large bale, and grain at all time highs, they can't afford to feed them. The corn is so crappy it's not even useful as silage (mowed down to be used, leaves, stalks and all, for animal feed). Living in an Agricultural state, I see the fields, the pastures, the spindly weeds growing in hay fields and ditches, and it worries me because food prices are currently awful, and this heat wave and drought will only make them worse. A LOT worse.
I sure don't see it getting any better.
We're careening toward an economic cliff running hand in hand with climate change, yet our politicians bicker over gaffes, imagined affronts, and skewed data, telling us nothing about how they will actually repair our ailing economy, how they'll make it easier for folks to find and keep jobs, or how they'll deal with the coming food/water crises and lifestyle modifications that'll have to be used as the weather changes. Nothing they're saying really matters, it's all sound bites and bickering over the same damn crap, little different from the crap four years ago, or eight, or twelve, or twenty or any time I can remember.
Frankly, bail outs mean shit when people can't afford groceries. Taxes mean shit when people don't have income to tax. Gaffes mean shit when the national and global economies take a nose dive.
Sooner or later, the weather will change, we will get rain, and Iowa will be green again. Politicians, though, will continue to screech lies and half-truths at each other from their pedestals. Until they stop being so divisive and nasty, and instead start offering real solutions to real problems, nothing's ever going to get better.
Not this year.
We've had about a month at or around 100˚F. We've had about a month with humidity around 25%, which we don't usually hit except in the coldest parts of winter. We have rivers that have dried up, or are little more than a trickle. The corn is already turning brown with teeny, skinny cobs about the size of my thumb. The beans haven't grown tall or fluffed and just sit there slowly turning yellow. Instead of perfect growing conditions for grass, grains, and trees, everything is becoming crispy. Trees are shedding leaves, lawns are brown, and, frankly, wildlife, which is usually plentiful even in town, has all but disappeared. My bet is the deer, raccoons, possums and whatnot are staying near what few water sources remain, but I can't be sure. Even the birds are trimmed back, the mornings silent instead of filled with birdsong.
For someone used to sticky humid summers where we have to mow the lawn every other day, this is really distressing. There's a lot of worry that if we don't get a lot of rain this fall, before freeze, what fish remain in the rivers and lakes won't survive the winter. And neither will the trees. And who knows what the crap crops will do to our already faltering local economy.
Scary stuff.
Long term forecasts indicate the hot dry slow bake of the midwest will continue until mid September. Or maybe October. And once it starts raining, it won't stop. Maybe. If it starts raining at all. They think.
I just know that farmers here are selling their cattle because, with hay reaching $1500 a large bale, and grain at all time highs, they can't afford to feed them. The corn is so crappy it's not even useful as silage (mowed down to be used, leaves, stalks and all, for animal feed). Living in an Agricultural state, I see the fields, the pastures, the spindly weeds growing in hay fields and ditches, and it worries me because food prices are currently awful, and this heat wave and drought will only make them worse. A LOT worse.
I sure don't see it getting any better.
We're careening toward an economic cliff running hand in hand with climate change, yet our politicians bicker over gaffes, imagined affronts, and skewed data, telling us nothing about how they will actually repair our ailing economy, how they'll make it easier for folks to find and keep jobs, or how they'll deal with the coming food/water crises and lifestyle modifications that'll have to be used as the weather changes. Nothing they're saying really matters, it's all sound bites and bickering over the same damn crap, little different from the crap four years ago, or eight, or twelve, or twenty or any time I can remember.
Frankly, bail outs mean shit when people can't afford groceries. Taxes mean shit when people don't have income to tax. Gaffes mean shit when the national and global economies take a nose dive.
Sooner or later, the weather will change, we will get rain, and Iowa will be green again. Politicians, though, will continue to screech lies and half-truths at each other from their pedestals. Until they stop being so divisive and nasty, and instead start offering real solutions to real problems, nothing's ever going to get better.
05 October, 2011
Two posts. One day. Omg, I've lost my mind.
I've been reading a lot about writing lately, craft, e-vs-traditional publishing, marketing, platforms, royalties, and all the other assorted important-to-writers-but-no-one-else concepts. I love this stuff, just gobble it up (and I spit it back out, as evidenced by my many re-tweets and G+ shares). ;)
One thing I keep running into, though, is:
Every concept has its lovers and detractors.
Writers are people too and we all have preferences and opinions. And we like to be heard. So we, as a group, tend to respond to articles we agree with, and ones we absolutely disagree with. All that's fine. However, some writers (a few in particular who shall remain nameless) apparently live to spit on others.
One thing I keep running into, though, is:
Every concept has its lovers and detractors.
Writers are people too and we all have preferences and opinions. And we like to be heard. So we, as a group, tend to respond to articles we agree with, and ones we absolutely disagree with. All that's fine. However, some writers (a few in particular who shall remain nameless) apparently live to spit on others.
03 October, 2011
Waving goodbye to Facebook
I joined facebook a couple of years ago when a friend started an author page for me. It was a fun place to hang out, catch up with friends and family, and play a few games. But it soon became a time suck and, as the rules kept changing, a bit too public for me. I didn't like having my personal data up for sale (not that almost every social site online doesn't do that, too) that anything I posted, clicked at, or even potentially visited outside of facebook would become public knowledge.
That really bothered me. Not because anyone would care that I frequent quilting sites, writing blogs, and news (Seriously. Who cares that I like Moda Bake Shop?), but does anyone really need to know if I'm researching decapitation, spousal abuse, or how long a person can live after a disemboweling? Not only would it potentially label me as psychotic, it could give away a story element long before the story went public.
And what writer wants that? ;)
The real kicker for me, though, was the increasing negativity. It's like people's self-sensors have turned off. While there's always been that free wheeling 'F this!' attitude to facebook posts, especially by the younger set, I lost count how many non-teenagers were telling others to do things to themselves best not said in public. Or posted raunchy, nasty pics and videos. Or just plain bullying and harassment. On my wall, at least, the venom exploded over the past couple of weeks.
I have no issue with disagreement, only the lack of politeness. People can disagree without calling each other names or making threats. People can be upset and angry without being vicious. Just apparently not on Facebook. And God help you if you ask someone to tone it down.
I just don't want that crap shoved in my face anymore. I have enough of my own to deal with, thanks anyway. So, between the nastiness and privacy issues, I decided I was done. I didn't want to lose my author page or that path of interacting with fans, so I haven't deleted my account, just closed the social 'wall'. I hope that works for everyone, including me. :)
I'll keep checking the page - promise! - but I'm also maintaining a twitter account (http://twitter.com/#!/tambojones) and Google+ (http://gplus.to/tambo). And I'll make a greater effort to update this blog frequently.
{{huggs}}
That really bothered me. Not because anyone would care that I frequent quilting sites, writing blogs, and news (Seriously. Who cares that I like Moda Bake Shop?), but does anyone really need to know if I'm researching decapitation, spousal abuse, or how long a person can live after a disemboweling? Not only would it potentially label me as psychotic, it could give away a story element long before the story went public.
And what writer wants that? ;)
The real kicker for me, though, was the increasing negativity. It's like people's self-sensors have turned off. While there's always been that free wheeling 'F this!' attitude to facebook posts, especially by the younger set, I lost count how many non-teenagers were telling others to do things to themselves best not said in public. Or posted raunchy, nasty pics and videos. Or just plain bullying and harassment. On my wall, at least, the venom exploded over the past couple of weeks.
I have no issue with disagreement, only the lack of politeness. People can disagree without calling each other names or making threats. People can be upset and angry without being vicious. Just apparently not on Facebook. And God help you if you ask someone to tone it down.
I just don't want that crap shoved in my face anymore. I have enough of my own to deal with, thanks anyway. So, between the nastiness and privacy issues, I decided I was done. I didn't want to lose my author page or that path of interacting with fans, so I haven't deleted my account, just closed the social 'wall'. I hope that works for everyone, including me. :)
I'll keep checking the page - promise! - but I'm also maintaining a twitter account (http://twitter.com/#!/tambojones) and Google+ (http://gplus.to/tambo). And I'll make a greater effort to update this blog frequently.
{{huggs}}
30 September, 2011
Reflections on Network TV.
This is all because of Star Trek Voyager.
Seriously.
I'd like to point out that I've never really watched much TV. Never seen The Sopranos or the West Wing, barely knew LOST existed, and, frankly, the one time I tried to sit through Sex in the City I thought WTF? People actually like this crap??
(Please don't be offended if you're a fan, I am just so far removed from New York, fashion, or being single that it was like watching a show of aliens doing alien things. In their alien language. Nowhere near a cornfield.)
Anyway, growing up and into my adulthood, I occasionally had one TV show that I watched, at least to the point where I looked forward to the day and time, and made plans in my life accordingly. One. Show. At a time. Not 'Fab Fridays' or whatever. Just the one show. SOAP was a must-see fave. Twin Peaks (oh, the flowcharts and character-plot-dissections I made) was another. And Voyager... Yup, it was a third.
I can't think of any *since* Voyager, at least none come to mind, (well, maybe the Goren and Eames episodes of Criminal Intent, which rock) but back in 1996 I was totally, completely hooked on happenings in the Delta Quadrant.
Then our local Fox affiliate quit buying the rights to show the new episodes. My one show, after a cliffhanger season ender, was gone. I was distraught, upset - not quite as upset as I was with Twin Peaks' cancellation, but close - and I frantically sent letters and searched far and wide for some way, any way to get my Voyager fix.
Very few stations picked it up that year (I think it was season 2??) but WSBK in Boston carried it. I lived in Iowa, though, and didn't know a soul in Boston who could tape it for me. Our local Fox affiliate was immune to my pleas, as was the cable company, but, lo and behold, there was a brand spanking new satellite dish company, Dish Network, that listed WSBK as one of their upgrade channels.
Because I get rabidly attached to a TV show roughly once a decade (and because I'm relentless when I'm fixated on something) my darling husband agreed to check into it (spouse speak for 'I'd better agree to this or she'll never give me any peace') and, right about the same time, like that very DAY if I remember right, a local radio station ran a promotional offer for this newfangled Dish Network. One phone call and a couple of days later, I became one of the very first Dish subscribers in Iowa. Seriously. Me, who didn't even watch TV, other than Voyager, of course.
This was back when internet service, at least for us, was dialup, btw. 28 baud or some crappy speed. Us getting a dish was a hugely big technological coup.
Yes, I know I'm spoiled. I do.
Anyway, I'd missed a good hunk of that season, but by-golly we had Dish. Voyager (spoiler alert!! ;) ) finally made it back to the Alpha Quadrant in 2001, and I went back to not-really-watching TV. My family watched, though, shows like MXC and South Park and some screwy ass thing called Cow and Chicken. (I pretty much hated Cow and Chicken. I'm sorry, but Cow bouncing through life with her udders bouncing along with her was just wrong on so many levels just thinking about it makes me cringe). Life moved on to Sponge Bob, CSI reruns on Spike (along with Voyager, wooohoooo!!!! who cares if it was on at 2am, it's VOYAGER!!), and crappy SyFy movies. We dragged the dish with us to the wilds of northern Iowa, upgraded our system a couple of times, and, even as the originally cheap fees steadily grew (and, for me at least, the TV was mostly background noise), we remained constant subscribers despite a hundred channels with nothing on (as Bill liked to say).
Until about a week ago.
With Bill's diminished hours at the posty office and rising prices on everything else in our universe, we decided to let Dish go. It was a luxury, and we didn't need all those channels anyway. Not even WSBK. So we cancelled our service, and promptly discovered that despite having digital TVs, we couldn't receive anything up here. Nothing. But static. And, once, a really grainy episode of Matlock.
So we bought an antenna - gasp! - a big, shiny aluminum monster that could supposedly pick up the signal all the way from Des Moines. It's mounted on the garage now. With its assistance, we receive 5 networks (ABC, CBS, NBC, FOX, and THIS) plus three separate public television stations that show the exact same things. Despite it being 'on the list' the ION channel out of Newton is just too far away. All of the stations have additional 'kinda crappy' affiliate channels (1 to 3 more, like our FOX is 17.1, 17.2, 17.3) I find this perplexing. Why have these other subordinate channels? All Iowa weather? What's the point in that? Channels with sound but only a blank black screen? That's like radio. On TV! I do, however, really like how one channel is nothing but music videos! It's what MTv used to be! Cool.
Like Spock, I squint at it and mutter, "Fascinating."
This week I half-watched auditions for X Factor. I'd never seen a 'talent reality TV show' before. Weird and sad, all at the same time. Why show the obviously awful entrants? It just seems cruel. I doubt I'll watch any more. I saw Aston Kutcher debut on 2 1/2 Men (which we'd seen in reruns) and, yanno, he seemed just like Kelso (on That 70's Show, also only seen in reruns). Saw the premier of TerraNova (other than Laura insisting we had to watch 2 1/2 Men during TerraNova's third quarter so I missed the kids getting chased by dinos) and it was a lot like a cardboard SyFy movie. Watched some PBS. The local news (first time in more than a decade) and a couple of things on daytime TV. Was vastly disappointed in The Chew.
Anyway, we've only had 'Broadcast TV' since Monday. It's just background noise now, if it's even on at all. I think the best thing we'd found was M*A*S*H reruns. Even my nearly-addicted-to-TV daughter isn't watching.
Maybe one day they'll rerun Voyager. Until then, I'll leave it on the music video channel. :)
Seriously.
I'd like to point out that I've never really watched much TV. Never seen The Sopranos or the West Wing, barely knew LOST existed, and, frankly, the one time I tried to sit through Sex in the City I thought WTF? People actually like this crap??
(Please don't be offended if you're a fan, I am just so far removed from New York, fashion, or being single that it was like watching a show of aliens doing alien things. In their alien language. Nowhere near a cornfield.)
Anyway, growing up and into my adulthood, I occasionally had one TV show that I watched, at least to the point where I looked forward to the day and time, and made plans in my life accordingly. One. Show. At a time. Not 'Fab Fridays' or whatever. Just the one show. SOAP was a must-see fave. Twin Peaks (oh, the flowcharts and character-plot-dissections I made) was another. And Voyager... Yup, it was a third.
I can't think of any *since* Voyager, at least none come to mind, (well, maybe the Goren and Eames episodes of Criminal Intent, which rock) but back in 1996 I was totally, completely hooked on happenings in the Delta Quadrant.
Then our local Fox affiliate quit buying the rights to show the new episodes. My one show, after a cliffhanger season ender, was gone. I was distraught, upset - not quite as upset as I was with Twin Peaks' cancellation, but close - and I frantically sent letters and searched far and wide for some way, any way to get my Voyager fix.
Very few stations picked it up that year (I think it was season 2??) but WSBK in Boston carried it. I lived in Iowa, though, and didn't know a soul in Boston who could tape it for me. Our local Fox affiliate was immune to my pleas, as was the cable company, but, lo and behold, there was a brand spanking new satellite dish company, Dish Network, that listed WSBK as one of their upgrade channels.
Because I get rabidly attached to a TV show roughly once a decade (and because I'm relentless when I'm fixated on something) my darling husband agreed to check into it (spouse speak for 'I'd better agree to this or she'll never give me any peace') and, right about the same time, like that very DAY if I remember right, a local radio station ran a promotional offer for this newfangled Dish Network. One phone call and a couple of days later, I became one of the very first Dish subscribers in Iowa. Seriously. Me, who didn't even watch TV, other than Voyager, of course.
This was back when internet service, at least for us, was dialup, btw. 28 baud or some crappy speed. Us getting a dish was a hugely big technological coup.
Yes, I know I'm spoiled. I do.
Anyway, I'd missed a good hunk of that season, but by-golly we had Dish. Voyager (spoiler alert!! ;) ) finally made it back to the Alpha Quadrant in 2001, and I went back to not-really-watching TV. My family watched, though, shows like MXC and South Park and some screwy ass thing called Cow and Chicken. (I pretty much hated Cow and Chicken. I'm sorry, but Cow bouncing through life with her udders bouncing along with her was just wrong on so many levels just thinking about it makes me cringe). Life moved on to Sponge Bob, CSI reruns on Spike (along with Voyager, wooohoooo!!!! who cares if it was on at 2am, it's VOYAGER!!), and crappy SyFy movies. We dragged the dish with us to the wilds of northern Iowa, upgraded our system a couple of times, and, even as the originally cheap fees steadily grew (and, for me at least, the TV was mostly background noise), we remained constant subscribers despite a hundred channels with nothing on (as Bill liked to say).
Until about a week ago.
With Bill's diminished hours at the posty office and rising prices on everything else in our universe, we decided to let Dish go. It was a luxury, and we didn't need all those channels anyway. Not even WSBK. So we cancelled our service, and promptly discovered that despite having digital TVs, we couldn't receive anything up here. Nothing. But static. And, once, a really grainy episode of Matlock.
So we bought an antenna - gasp! - a big, shiny aluminum monster that could supposedly pick up the signal all the way from Des Moines. It's mounted on the garage now. With its assistance, we receive 5 networks (ABC, CBS, NBC, FOX, and THIS) plus three separate public television stations that show the exact same things. Despite it being 'on the list' the ION channel out of Newton is just too far away. All of the stations have additional 'kinda crappy' affiliate channels (1 to 3 more, like our FOX is 17.1, 17.2, 17.3) I find this perplexing. Why have these other subordinate channels? All Iowa weather? What's the point in that? Channels with sound but only a blank black screen? That's like radio. On TV! I do, however, really like how one channel is nothing but music videos! It's what MTv used to be! Cool.
Like Spock, I squint at it and mutter, "Fascinating."
This week I half-watched auditions for X Factor. I'd never seen a 'talent reality TV show' before. Weird and sad, all at the same time. Why show the obviously awful entrants? It just seems cruel. I doubt I'll watch any more. I saw Aston Kutcher debut on 2 1/2 Men (which we'd seen in reruns) and, yanno, he seemed just like Kelso (on That 70's Show, also only seen in reruns). Saw the premier of TerraNova (other than Laura insisting we had to watch 2 1/2 Men during TerraNova's third quarter so I missed the kids getting chased by dinos) and it was a lot like a cardboard SyFy movie. Watched some PBS. The local news (first time in more than a decade) and a couple of things on daytime TV. Was vastly disappointed in The Chew.
Anyway, we've only had 'Broadcast TV' since Monday. It's just background noise now, if it's even on at all. I think the best thing we'd found was M*A*S*H reruns. Even my nearly-addicted-to-TV daughter isn't watching.
Maybe one day they'll rerun Voyager. Until then, I'll leave it on the music video channel. :)
09 September, 2011
Price Points
Since I've sort of lumbered into the self-publishing arena with the short stories (again, they're still available for FREE at http://tambowrites.blogspot.com/p/downloads.html) and listed them all for 99¢ at online retailers, I've noticed a few things.
Online sales - not the freebies. Btw, I do not track the freebies in ANY WAY, there are no counters at all and I don't even pay attention to how many people visit my blog or any page on it - show that FIRE sells about four copies for any single copy of the others. ENDORPHINS sells better than SID (more than twice as many). While I understand how fans are more likely to buy the story featuring Lars Hargrove, and 4:1 sounds like a reasonable ratio, I assumed the other two would sell at about the same rate. Nope. The lighter story of Edyth and her chomping quest for happy weight loss totally trumps the gruesome price of Theo facing his writer's block.
Hmm.
Is this due to the covers? The 'free sample' pages? The concept? Do readers care more about fat farms than writer angst? I dunno. But I find it very interesting. While I do write primarily to please myself and keep my own 'Sid' quiet and well fed, I also want to keep the fans happy. So I wonder.
I also wonder, especially after reading Chuck Wendig's essay on pricing ebooks at 99¢, if the perceived value of 99¢ or free is working against me and the stories. None have received any reviews anywhere that I have seen - despite dozens and dozens of paid downloads (and I can only assume even more free ones). Are they great? Are they crappy? Are they - most likely - somewhere between? Is there a stigma associated with reading, or reviewing, or, hell, enjoying, a super-cheap story? All things to ponder as I contemplate another Dubric short and the future completion of Stain of Corruption.
I'd like to try an experiment, but I'd also like some input beforehand. So, how do you all value free and cheap ebooks? Would they be more desirable if they were a bit more expensive - say $1.49 - $1.99 for short stories, more for novel length? Are you more inclined to read or review something you paid for vs something you picked up for free? If an author has a selection of super-cheap ebooks, does that make you more or less inclined to purchase their traditionally published works? Does the fact that I send all of my ebook royalties to charity make any difference at all? (John Hopkins Burn Unit is the fall recipient, btw.) Do you have any other comments or concerns as an ebook buyer?
How about I turn this into a contest? Anyone who leaves a comment answering questions about ebooks in general - or mine in particular - on the blog or facebook will be entered into a drawing to receive one of my table-topper quilts. I actually have four here ready to go. One's black, white and red, one's kinda purple, teal, and green, one's Christmas, and the other is neutrals and browns. So note a color scheme with your comments and I'll leave the contest open until Saturday September 17, at midnight.
Thanks for your help!! {{huggs}}
Online sales - not the freebies. Btw, I do not track the freebies in ANY WAY, there are no counters at all and I don't even pay attention to how many people visit my blog or any page on it - show that FIRE sells about four copies for any single copy of the others. ENDORPHINS sells better than SID (more than twice as many). While I understand how fans are more likely to buy the story featuring Lars Hargrove, and 4:1 sounds like a reasonable ratio, I assumed the other two would sell at about the same rate. Nope. The lighter story of Edyth and her chomping quest for happy weight loss totally trumps the gruesome price of Theo facing his writer's block.
Hmm.
Is this due to the covers? The 'free sample' pages? The concept? Do readers care more about fat farms than writer angst? I dunno. But I find it very interesting. While I do write primarily to please myself and keep my own 'Sid' quiet and well fed, I also want to keep the fans happy. So I wonder.
I also wonder, especially after reading Chuck Wendig's essay on pricing ebooks at 99¢, if the perceived value of 99¢ or free is working against me and the stories. None have received any reviews anywhere that I have seen - despite dozens and dozens of paid downloads (and I can only assume even more free ones). Are they great? Are they crappy? Are they - most likely - somewhere between? Is there a stigma associated with reading, or reviewing, or, hell, enjoying, a super-cheap story? All things to ponder as I contemplate another Dubric short and the future completion of Stain of Corruption.
I'd like to try an experiment, but I'd also like some input beforehand. So, how do you all value free and cheap ebooks? Would they be more desirable if they were a bit more expensive - say $1.49 - $1.99 for short stories, more for novel length? Are you more inclined to read or review something you paid for vs something you picked up for free? If an author has a selection of super-cheap ebooks, does that make you more or less inclined to purchase their traditionally published works? Does the fact that I send all of my ebook royalties to charity make any difference at all? (John Hopkins Burn Unit is the fall recipient, btw.) Do you have any other comments or concerns as an ebook buyer?
How about I turn this into a contest? Anyone who leaves a comment answering questions about ebooks in general - or mine in particular - on the blog or facebook will be entered into a drawing to receive one of my table-topper quilts. I actually have four here ready to go. One's black, white and red, one's kinda purple, teal, and green, one's Christmas, and the other is neutrals and browns. So note a color scheme with your comments and I'll leave the contest open until Saturday September 17, at midnight.
Thanks for your help!! {{huggs}}
01 March, 2011
Cops? Why'd it have to be cops?!?
There are several scenes in Secret Project M where M has to talk to, deal with, and explain things to the police and detectives. I must admit that it's MUCH EASIER to write such conversations from the viewpoint of the questioners than the question-ee. This is a single POV book and, sometimes, it's proving tricky to get information and questions across to M and the readers without being overly blunt about it.
Semi-stalled again on Chapter 14, but I think I can get this one cleared out fairly quickly.
Semi-stalled again on Chapter 14, but I think I can get this one cleared out fairly quickly.
21 November, 2010
Writing Groups and Secret Project M
Okay. So, here's the deal. Yes, I am writing, rather a lot, in fact.
I joined a writers group, a real writers group of published and getting-dang-close writers a month or so ago and we meet every couple of weeks to critique each other and generally have a great time. We four are all ladies of mature temperament (if rather silly at times) and we get along great. We also really encourage each other to craft the best dang words we can. I haven't really been critiqued yet - I'm in the muddy middle of M and don't want to lose momentum by revisiting my opening bits - but I've talked about the book, dissected and discussed it a lot, and the gals (S, S, and V) have just been freaking awesome.
Have I mentioned that they're awesome?
Anyway, I come home pumped and excited, which in itself is wonderful, and, when I settle in to write, I get lots of lovely words. Lovely, lovely words, and I'm now writing pretty much every day instead of just Tuesdays and Thursdays while The Kid is in class.
M is on Chapter 18 and a hair under 70,000 words (should pass that mark today) and churning right along like a good little machine. My agent loved the proposal I sent him months ago, and, honestly, it's looking like I might get a polished first draft by the end of the year. Seriously. Is that wild or what?
The only problems, if they even are problems, are two little issues. First, it's definitely NOT a Dubric book. It's likely going to be categorized as Women's Fiction. There's no magic, no anything even remotely spec-fic related, and not only is it mundane modern, there's only one POV: the protagonist. I found single POV really difficult at first, but I've kind of settled into it. It definitely works for this story.
Second, I'm writing it under a pseudonym. I have issues, okay? And one of those issues has consistently been the public nature of being a published writer, while I myself am a rather shy homebody who, well, gets a bit freaked out by the aforementioned public nature of things. While some close friends know I'm writing (and all of you blog followers, ha ha) very, VERY few people actually know what the book's called or is about or anything concrete. There are maybe 10 people on the planet who have heard the gist of M, let alone read any, and that's just fine with me. Will it stay that way? I don't know. I guess it comes down to how comfortable I am when the time comes.
But, anyway, I'm having fun writing, for maybe the first time ever, and it's pretty freaking cool. Lars, though, has been banging around my head these past few days after months of silence, so I'm thinking I'll revisit Stain of Corruption while my agent is out trying to sell M and, with luck, I can get it finished up and out as an ebook sometime next spring. No promises, only hopes. There's still a lot of story to tell in the Dubricverse, I just have to get the guts to tell it.
I joined a writers group, a real writers group of published and getting-dang-close writers a month or so ago and we meet every couple of weeks to critique each other and generally have a great time. We four are all ladies of mature temperament (if rather silly at times) and we get along great. We also really encourage each other to craft the best dang words we can. I haven't really been critiqued yet - I'm in the muddy middle of M and don't want to lose momentum by revisiting my opening bits - but I've talked about the book, dissected and discussed it a lot, and the gals (S, S, and V) have just been freaking awesome.
Have I mentioned that they're awesome?
Anyway, I come home pumped and excited, which in itself is wonderful, and, when I settle in to write, I get lots of lovely words. Lovely, lovely words, and I'm now writing pretty much every day instead of just Tuesdays and Thursdays while The Kid is in class.
M is on Chapter 18 and a hair under 70,000 words (should pass that mark today) and churning right along like a good little machine. My agent loved the proposal I sent him months ago, and, honestly, it's looking like I might get a polished first draft by the end of the year. Seriously. Is that wild or what?
The only problems, if they even are problems, are two little issues. First, it's definitely NOT a Dubric book. It's likely going to be categorized as Women's Fiction. There's no magic, no anything even remotely spec-fic related, and not only is it mundane modern, there's only one POV: the protagonist. I found single POV really difficult at first, but I've kind of settled into it. It definitely works for this story.
Second, I'm writing it under a pseudonym. I have issues, okay? And one of those issues has consistently been the public nature of being a published writer, while I myself am a rather shy homebody who, well, gets a bit freaked out by the aforementioned public nature of things. While some close friends know I'm writing (and all of you blog followers, ha ha) very, VERY few people actually know what the book's called or is about or anything concrete. There are maybe 10 people on the planet who have heard the gist of M, let alone read any, and that's just fine with me. Will it stay that way? I don't know. I guess it comes down to how comfortable I am when the time comes.
But, anyway, I'm having fun writing, for maybe the first time ever, and it's pretty freaking cool. Lars, though, has been banging around my head these past few days after months of silence, so I'm thinking I'll revisit Stain of Corruption while my agent is out trying to sell M and, with luck, I can get it finished up and out as an ebook sometime next spring. No promises, only hopes. There's still a lot of story to tell in the Dubricverse, I just have to get the guts to tell it.
02 July, 2010
It's all in the eyes
My surgery went great! I've tested twice at 20/15 vision in both eyes, and there hasn't been any real pain or problems. My left eye aches some times - kinda feels like a sinus headache, just all around and behind the eye (supposedly normal) - and there was some bleeding on my eyeballs from the suction thingy (also normal, and fading) and, lastly, it sometimes seems like I'm looking through plastic wrap. Things are in focus, just... slightly obscured. That's normal too, and at first it was like looking through milk, so plastic wrap is a definite improvement and it's getting better every day. Been driving just fine, going through my day to day life just fine, but I need reading glasses to pull stitches out of my sewing, and for some - but not all - reading. The coolest thing is having DEPTH PERCEPTION and I spent a lot of the first day or so boggling how bumpy things were, or tall, or thick, or all of these textural nuances I hadn't really ever seen before.
So two thumbs up on the eyes! (more below the cut)
So two thumbs up on the eyes! (more below the cut)
07 April, 2010
I feel a rant coming on
CNN.com has an article today about how some fast food chains are making super-high-calorie menu items. While the article itself didn't bother me all that much - it was a bit condescending and sprinkled with hyperbolic words like 'waddle' and 'food coma' - the comments made me grind my teeth.
Apparently, it's perfectly acceptable to despise fat people, particularly poor, uneducated fat people. Oink oink fatties, I hope y'all die!
This article about fast food isn't the only place to spew venom toward fat folks. Anything about airlines gets a lot of responses about having to sit beside stinky, sprawling slugs. Health care. Heart disease. Beauty. Fashion. Urban blight. Gabourey Sidibe, the gal who played Precious in the movie by the same name (and was nominated for an Oscar). Midwesterners. Americans. Video games. Technology. Parenting. It seems like almost any news item delivers an excuse to rail against fatties. The hatred is immense and vicious.
Apparently, it's perfectly acceptable to despise fat people, particularly poor, uneducated fat people. Oink oink fatties, I hope y'all die!
This article about fast food isn't the only place to spew venom toward fat folks. Anything about airlines gets a lot of responses about having to sit beside stinky, sprawling slugs. Health care. Heart disease. Beauty. Fashion. Urban blight. Gabourey Sidibe, the gal who played Precious in the movie by the same name (and was nominated for an Oscar). Midwesterners. Americans. Video games. Technology. Parenting. It seems like almost any news item delivers an excuse to rail against fatties. The hatred is immense and vicious.
20 January, 2010
Menopause Musings
And, no, I'm not talking about me. At least not yet.
I'm talking about a blog that has been on my daily must-read circuit for months. I found it via a friend's post on facebook and I just love hanging with Jenny and Mary. If you're a woman of a certain age - and even if you're not - you might want to check it out.
Today Jenny writes about Maya Angelou, and it's just awesome!
I'm talking about a blog that has been on my daily must-read circuit for months. I found it via a friend's post on facebook and I just love hanging with Jenny and Mary. If you're a woman of a certain age - and even if you're not - you might want to check it out.
Today Jenny writes about Maya Angelou, and it's just awesome!
16 January, 2010
Just wondering...
What do the family members of the girls in the Girls Gone Wild commercials think about seeing sweet little Susie baring her boobs (or worse) on nationwide commercials?
I bet they're all so proud! ;)
I bet they're all so proud! ;)
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