Life's a Beach

It'd been five years since we'd vacationed on Cape San Blas, a narrow peninsula that points its finger away from the Florida panhandle and out into the Gulf of Mexico. Coming back to one of our favorite beaches was exciting, but for me, it held a special significance. The fall following our return from the Cape in 2007, I discovered Writing.com. And the first fictional story I posted there that was written for an audience, (unlike all the journal-format scribblings I'd done up to that point), was inspired by my real-life events that took place on Cape San Blas.

Last week while I walked on the beach, I thought a lot about that story and reflected on my writing journey from 2007 until now. My mind wanders when I beach comb; it is one of my favorite activities, a peaceful time when I marvel at the beauty of the sea and all the treasures she holds. The sound of the surf, the salty smell of the sea air, and the sun's heat intoxicate and inspire the writer in me.

The first day of every vacation we spend at Cape San Blas, I decide on a certain and specific item I hope to find while combing the beach. One year, it was a whole, intact sand dollar. Another year, I searched for a perfect, unbroken spiral seashell. Walking the beach becomes a sort of Where's Waldo scavenger hunt, with a prize hidden out in plain sight.

This year, I decided to find a shark's tooth on the beach.

As my eyes drifted up and down the wet, hard-packed sand at the sea's edge, I thought about how similar my beach combing quests were to the way I approach story writing. Ever since that first story back in 2007, I've started each new piece of fiction with a specific challenge in mind for myself. I try something new, something I've never attempted before. I wrote my first story in third-person, which is the natural, organic comfort zone for my muse. So in subsequent stories, I've tried first person, second person, and omniscient narrations. I throw myself into new genres, experiment with unreliable narrators. Once in a while, I write with pen and paper instead of typing on a computer. The idea isn't to rigorously challenge myself, so much as to give fresh focus to each new project, to heighten each experience and invite the unexpected into the mix.

In past years, I've successfully found the beach object of my desire. And next to pristine sand dollars and perfectly curvaceous spirals, I have bowls of broken shells, each beautiful for a special, one-of-a-kind reason, collected along the way. This year, I didn't find a shark's tooth. But that's okay; some challenges push you further, make you wait while you work harder for your results. This happens in my writing, too. Some stories fall short and don't capture the magic I intend, the first time around. Sometimes, I have to carry that focus into the next project until I master that which I grasped, maybe held for brief moments, but let slip away by the end.

One thing's for sure, while I hunted for that elusive shark's tooth, the balmy breeze and sugary sands of Cape San Blas inspired the writer in me, just as it did five years ago.


What new writing technique have you challenged yourself with lately? How'd the story turn out?

[Written for and published today, 6/12/2012, in Writing.com's Drama Newsletter]

                                   

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Remember when...?

My fourteen-year-old son was born into a comfortable world of modern conveniences. 

His parents have always driven their own cars, carried their own telephones, and possessed their own personal computers. His home is an ambient 74˚F year-round, thanks to central heat and air. There has always been a television in his playroom, where over the years Sesame Street and Barney tapes and Disney DVDs have been replaced with Wii and PlayStation consoles and games. Twenty-four-hour grocery stores ensure he'll never go hungry; gardening has just been a hobby his parents enjoy, when there's time and seasonal conditions are good. My son has enjoyed these things, without ever thinking about them. 

Until, that is, a recent school project for his Georgia Studies class asked him to.

The assignment was laid-back in structure, as the school year has nearly wound down and teachers and students alike are pining for the upcoming summer break. My son was asked to come up with a short list of questions on specific historical events of his choice, from the past seventy years. The questions would guide him during an informal interview he was to conduct with someone who is at least sixty years old and who has lived in our state the majority of his or her life. My son chose to interview a seventy-three-year-old family friend we affectionately call Granddaddy.

The first question my son asked was about the Civil Rights era. Granddaddy began by telling him about the all-white school he attended, and about the all-black school in town. His memory flood gates flew open. It was wonderful to see the light in Granddaddy's eyes as he reminisced for the next two hours, describing life in rural Georgia during his childhood. He talked about the small house he grew up in, heated only by the wood-burning stove his grandmother cooked on. Quilts kept him warm on winter nights, and during brutal Georgia summer nights, they dragged their mattresses out to the porch where it was cooler. And every morning, the cow was milked and the eggs collected from the hen house before his grandmother could prepare breakfast. 

My son's eyes grew large when Granddaddy explained that as the youngest in the house, it was his job to empty the "slop jar," used during the night when the grown-ups didn't want to go to the outhouse.

From describing the route he drove in his grandfather's truck, selling their farm produce door-to-door, to buying twenty-five cents worth of ice from the traveling ice man, to assisting the grown-ups when a snake fell into the well, my son learned secondhand how different life was just two generations ago. 

For me, the story ideas swirled in my mind as I listened.

A wealth of knowledge and information about a bygone era resides in our elder generation. I encourage everyone to spend an hour or two with grandparents, older neighbors, or friends with the intention of asking them about their lives. Stories from their childhoods, memories of what life was like during wartimes, and their recollections of important milestones achieved during their lives (scholastic accomplishments, marriages, pregnancies, first jobs, etc.) will enlighten and inspire you, while bringing you closer to the friend or relative who's doing the sharing.

After Granddaddy left, my son and I talked about the differences in our daily lives compared to what Granddaddy described from his past. And what modern conveniences from my son's lifetime, we wondered, will he describe years from now to wide-eyed, disbelieving children? Fun to think about.

And, oh the stories that continue to come to mind... 

Have you asked your grandmother or grandfather about their childhoods? What was the most surprising thing they shared with you?

Thanks for reading!

[I originally published this article in the May 16, 2012 Drama Newsletter at Writing.com.]

                                   

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"Fabric" by Jessica Bell -- Check It Out!!

Today I'm celebrating the release of Jessica Bell's new poetry collection, Fabric ... Wait! Please don't close the tab at the the mention of poetry! Trust me, just watch the trailer and then read a little note from the author herself before deciding to disappear ...

Jessica says:
My poetry will not baffle you with phrasing that scholars award for academic genius and that can only be understood by those who wrote it. My poetry is for the everyday reader. In fact, it is even for those who don’t like to read poetry at all. Because it is real, stark and simple.

The poems in Fabric are no different. They explore specific moments in different people’s lives that are significant to whom they have become, the choices they’ve made. It’s about how they perceive the world around them, and how each and every one of their thoughts and actions contributes to the fabric of society. Perhaps you will even learn something new about yourself.

So, even if you do not usually read poetry, I urge you to give this one a go. Not because I want sales (though, they are fun!), but because I want more people to understand that not all poetry is scary and complex. Not all poetry is going to take you back to high school English, and not all poetry is going make you feel “stupid”.

You can still say to people that you don’t read poetry … I really don’t mind. Because if you read Fabric, you’re not reading poetry, you’re reading about people. And that’s what reading is about, yes? Living the lives of others? 

Are you still here? I hope so!

Please support the life of poetry today by spreading the news about Fabric. Hey, perhaps you might even like to purchase a copy for yourself? The e-book is only $1.99 and the paperback $5.50.

Here are the links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Goodreads

Let's keep poetry alive! Because not all poetry is "dead" boring ...

About Jessica Bell:

If Jessica Bell could choose only one creative mentor, she’d give the role to Euterpe, the Greek muse of music and lyrics. And not because she currently lives in Greece, either. The Australian-native author, poet and singer/songwriter/guitarist has her roots firmly planted in music, and admits inspiration often stems from lyrics she’s written.

She is the Co-Publishing Editor of Vine Leaves Literary Journal, and co-hosts the Homeric Writers' Retreat & Workshop on the Greek Isle of Ithaca, with Chuck Sambuchino of Writer’s Digest.

For more information about Jessica Bell, please visit:

Website:

String Bridge (a novel) 
Homeric Writers' Retreat & Workshop 
Blog 
Vine Leaves
Facebook
Twitter

                                   

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Weekend in the Water

A great weekend is one when you chip away at your bucket list, coming one step closer to checking off a life goal. I had one of those weekends. And it was fab-U-lous.

With my husband, I participated in two training-intensive days of scuba classes. The course we're taking is called Open Water Diver and is Scuba Schools International's (SSI) basic certification curriculum. 

The classroom segment of each day covered what happens to your body as you descend and are subjected to the increasing atmospheric pressure of deep water. We learned in theory how to avoid disastrous underwater scenarios and how to deal with potential emergency situations. Each three-and-a half-hour-long classroom session was followed by three-and-a-half more hours in the pool, practicing the skills in which we must be proficient to become certified divers.

Photo Source

Skills I practiced included: controlling my descents and assents; equalizing the pressure in my ears; achieving neutral buoyancy; removing the regulator from my mouth and replacing it; recovering the regulator (in the event it should be knocked free and floating behind me, out of view); clearing water from my mask; sharing air, in the event I or my buddy runs out of air; and underwater hand signals. 

The skill that freaked me out the most, at first, was removing my mask underwater. To demonstrate the skill, I had to take the mask completely off, put it back on, and clear it of water. The trick is to stay calm and keep breathing through the regulator. It's hard to trust that you won't accidentally take water up your nose. (You don't :D)

To complete our certification, hubs and I will do four open water dives in Florida this June. I have no apprehension whatsoever about exhibiting the skills I performed in the pool, on the floor of Gulf of Mexico. Actually, I'm super excited to get that gear on and get back in the water. I'm hooked on diving already!

What's the next item on your bucket list you'll go after? 

                                   

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Fast Forward

 

Life moves forward at break-neck speed, and last week was no exception. (Kelly Rippa and her co-host today Carson Kressley  just informed me April is Stress Awareness Month. I don't need a movement to be aware, I can tell you that.) In addition to the kids being on Spring Break and eager for at least one adventure a day, I had the refinancing of our house to contend with.


Putting together numerous paper trail records in a paperless world, and then scanning them so they become paperless again, had me teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown.


When it got really bad, I plonked down the mountain of paperwork at took the kids to see the Hunger Games, again. It was even better the second time!


Nothing reminds you of your financial obligations like refinancing a home. With property depreciation across the market, we're licking a $45K loss wound. Depression hovers like early morning haze. So, this week I brought out the sun.


I created a new board on my Pinterest wall. It's simply called, My Bucket List. The act of transferring my deepest desires into web-found images, where they materialize into tangible possibilities, has breathed new life force into my soul.


"Write a Novel" is on my list, of course. More on that later.


I only have 25 or so pins up, but the list will continue to grow. And I'm excited to say one item is already going to be checked off. My husband and I are currently working on our SCUBA Diving Certification. Fun!


To see My Bucket List board, CLICK HERE.


Life moves forward, so enjoy every lovely/maddening/beautiful/stressful/creative moment. And work to find your bliss, every.single.day.


Thanks for reading!

                                   

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Reminder for the Gentle Soul

Pillow Cover by textile artist Chloe Owens

Your work needs to be independent of others' work.

You must not compare yourself to others.

No one can help you. You have to help yourself.

Criticism leads to misunderstandings and defeatism.

Work from necessity and your compulsion to do it.

Work on what you know and what you are sure you love.

Don't observe yourself too closely, just let it happen.

Don't let yourself be controlled by too much irony.

Live in and love the activity of your work.

Be free of thoughts of sin, guilt and misgiving.

Be touched by the beautiful anxiety of life.

Be patient with the unresolve in your heart.

Try to be in love with the questions themselves.

Love your solitude and try to sing with its pain.

Be gentle to all of those who stay behind.

Your inner self is worth your entire concentration.

Allow your art to make extraordinary demands on you.

Bear your sadness with greater trust than your joy.

Do not persecute yourself with how things are going.

It's good to be solitary, because solitude is difficult.

It's good to love, because love is difficult.

You are not a prisoner of anything or anyone.

                                                        "Letters to a Young Poet", Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)

                                   

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What's Up With Me (?)

I'm a Libra, and for me, life is all about balance. I'm in constant pursuit of it, off-kilter when I don't achieve it, and of the mind that true success comes with it. So, here's how elusive balance has affected me lately.

I have two passions, both which require enormous amounts of time and energy. One is writing. The other is running.

When I am fully engaged with one, there is not enough time or energy for the other. No matter how I've tried to rectify this, it continues to be true.

In January, I began training for a half-marathon. So, in January I stopped working on my WiP. I didn't mean to. I had full intention to continue writing. But it didn't happen.

The race was a little over a week ago, on March 18th.

Here's me corralled at the start line, waiting for the race to start.

My husband and kids took this shot as I ran past near the mile 9 marker.

And here I am with my kids, after completing the 13.1 miles in 2 hrs. 23 mins.

Now that the intensity of my training has eased up for the next couple months (my next half is October 21), I'm turning my attention back to my writing. All time and energy is swinging in the creative direction as I pull up my manuscript off its dusty cyber shelf. 

To fully facilitate my first draft success, I'm laying low and staying off the Internet as much as possible. Once a week I'll post a short blog here to talk about my week's work, if only to keep myself on track and accountable. I'll visit around the blogosphere, but if you don't hear from me you'll know it's not 'cause I don't love what you've said, it's just because I'm confining my written words to my book.

And of course, I'll be cheering on all you A-Zers from my quiet corner of cyberspace!

See you on the other side! 

                                   

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