151212 Writing Record

This last week, I wrote next to nothing. I made a schedule, but it seems that I need to keep a record of what I wrote so that I can see specifically where I need to improve.

150720 La Cucaracha and Mercy

Most people think of cockroaches as quarter-sized vermin that run from the light. In San Antonio, our Asian imports are 2 to 3 inches long and have no fear of sunlight, nor of screaming, stomping giants. Saturday, I read that they hated peppermint and cypress essential oils. After sprinkling some around my bathroom, one ran onto my foot. It took about half a second for me to punt that miscreant into the wall while screaming like 1950s horror movie queen. Instead of dying, it skittered drunkenly out the door. I'm convinced that I reached my target heart rate during that little exercise.

I'll be taking a break from posting until September. Although I submitted my resignation last week, it was not accepted. My Branch Coordinator reminded me that the Church Epistles all start with grace and peace, but the Leadership Epistles include mercy. Above all, leadership needs to include mercy. I'll be working my tail off for the next five or six weeks. Perhaps this will encourage the stomach and thighs to shrink, too. ;)

Actually, my muse has not been that consistent, so in effect, things might not look all that different on the blogs! We'll see. Sometimes pressure of time makes the brain work more efficiently.

141112 Again With the Ringing

Once again, my ears are ringing. I have been eating a lot of fruit lately, and I just finished eating some fried rice. My guess is that my blood glucose levels are up. I almost collapsed in the kitchen last night. Emily thought I'd been drinking, but I hadn't. While it seems like such a little thing to control one's diet, the truth is that cheap food has a lot of carbohydrates in it, and carbohydrates turn to sugar in the body.

The constant ringing in my ears had started to go away, but I was going crazy on the restrictive diet. Food prices also took another jump, so I went back to the food bank. What they give falls mostly into the "breads and grains" category, so I dropped off the expense of the Atkins and added rice to my diet. Emily took the other grains. The ringing is back full force, and although I've had only water so far this morning, I feel like I am drunk. My brain is fuzzy and that low level buzz makes me think of alien bombardments.

Temperatures here took a drastic nose dive yesterday. Monday's high was near 80F (26C). Tuesday's high came at about eight o'clock in the morning. It got close to freezing last night, and we should have a hard freeze tonight. Yes, northerners laugh, but adapting to survive the summers here does come at a price. Cold bites.

If this doesn't sound incredibly depressing, it is because I am fighting SAD with all I have. The novel has become dark, but I'm on track with my goals concerning word counts. I have discovered that I cannot write an outline, then write the book. I have to just write. I thought this was a failing, but then I listened to a favorite author, John Erickson, discuss writing. He doesn't plan, either, and sixty-four published books says outlines don't have to be.

OK, how can you be depressed listening to "It's me again..."

What? Children's books can be fun and funny. He didn't write the first two for children, but when children loved them, he decided to make a whole series of them. He's a good speaker, too.

I'm just a lump on a log. I miss ice cream. Ice cream tastes wonderful and is fun to eat, but would just make my body feel worse. *cries*

141023 Registering for NaNoWriMo

There is a story bubbling in my soul, and this is the right time to write. Now, the rules are that I have to wait until the 1st to start. I shall be hampered by the trip we have planned, so I'll need to fit that into the schedule. Some people write the novel in two weeks. I'll shoot for that.

I won't post anything here until it's done.

141014 SoA

I know and have known dozens of people who own motorcycles. Maybe a double handful of those Ride. Four Bikers have been close personal contacts. At least two of those associates are born again.

A month or so ago, two unrelated Facebook friends referenced a TV show known as The Sons of Anarchy. Good Internet had just been piped into my home, so I watched the first couple of seasons online.

Like a fifteen car pileup, it drew my attention. It took until the start of the third season for me to pull my eyes from it. Yes, there was a code of honor; there was the love of family; there was a kind of justice, but there was nothing inherently good about it. Hollywood keeps its characters in constant strife, and tweaks all story lines to conform to their own worldview. Truth doesn't matter.

Truth is, while isolated incidents and even some story lines were believable, the combination was not. There should have been more jail time, injury, and/or death for all. I know of only one old biker who still rides, and he does that only for show. Also, he has lost his hearing. Cops are not stupid, and in any department, more than one of them is going to be a 'straight arrow'. Based on these deviations from reality and the excessive emotional pain the characters constantly generate, I developed a great dislike for the show.

I realize that TV is not real, but Hollywood acts like they are showing the 'real deal' in their fiction. Actually, many writers such as myself do attempt to illustrate reality with our fiction. Aesop used stories to convey wisdom. Shakespeare and Steinbeck illustrated the human condition. Maybe that's why most of Hollywood disgusts me. It seems that they have completely abandoned this facet of fiction that reveals truth and replaced it with this facet of coercion. They seem obligated to drive home certain narratives without ever allowing certain alternate opinions or even facts that contradict.

My daughter told me that new experiences, even second-hand or fictional, cause the brain to produce dopamine. Even unpleasant experiences can cause the production of dopamine. That must be why SoA captured my attention. I am not, however, an addict (dependent personality disorder). Nope. Not me, but I was married to one.

In sixteen days, I may return to an old experience that causes a rush: NaNoWriMo. November is usually a tough month with many obligations, so maybe not. It is, however, my kind of fun! Certainly, I can do better than watching SoA!

140220 Time for Thoughts; Time for Life

I haven't done much writing lately. My thoughts about a year ago were to make this a platform for selling oils. Many of my friends and acquaintances were making an income from selling Young Living Oils, so I thought it was the answer to supporting my children.

Not so much.

I am not a salesman. I miss opportunities. It is hard enough for me to speak to people in general, much less to convince them that they must spend money on something, even if it helps them. The United States of America has too rich a history of snake oil salesmen, charlatans, and cheaters so that and everyone here thinks that everything is bad. Classic wisdom says it best:

Luke 6:41  
"And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye?"

Americans seem to think that contention shows wisdom. Every time one person says something is good, three more compete in finding the worst clause or word or appearance that shows that 'good' is 'evil'. For example, some enterprising young man found a way to seal devastating battlefield wounds in seconds. It worked far better than anything currently used and had widespread applications for car accidents and other disasters where people bled profusely. The very first comment on the article I read condemned the practice because it 'might' cause an allergic reaction in a minority of people. Let's crush ALL innovation, because someone might be hurt! Let the majority die; it's so better than discomfort!

I, more than most, recognize that some people have life-threatening allergies. I have my own, but when the choice is dying or dealing with the allergic reaction, I'll take my chances! A 50-50 chance of living through an allergic reaction is far better than 20% or 0% from bleeding out! Oh, wait! That's math! No one does math anymore! That's how Obamacare got passed. The emotional desire for universal health care beat out the reality of the number crunching that so few did. Now, all the predictions of the mathletes are coming to pass, and those who relied on emotion are even more emotional.

Organizing my time can be an emotional decision as well, but rational thinking is required. I have resisted taking a full time job, because Agent needs school, my health has been questionable, and I have no plans to buy any kind of health insurance. Like my educational choices, my medical choices are sanctioned by neither the American Medical Association, nor the government. By removing myself from their standards, however, my health has improved to the point that I can now pursue employment. This means, that I shall have no more time for online activities. My Internet contract ends March 20th. Support for XP ends April 8th. I have yet to find a new service, but did start experimenting with Windows 7.

This is fair warning. My writing can hardly suffer more than it has. If I don't get that full time job, of course I'll find a way to get online! I love my friends. If I disappear, however, work will be why.

130716 List of Reads

• 
  
• $hopping, $aving, $urviving
• Daily Diary about "Mean Girls"
• Drake Wurrum's Blurbs
• Foraging Texas
• Living the Rustic Life
• Ramblings from the cold north
• Right In Texas
• Running For The Lord
• Urban Ministry Today

Writer's Block: Muwahahaha!

May 16th, 8:24

If you were a mad scientist, what would your mad invention or plot be? How would you use it to show those fools at the institute?

First question listed was submitted by westrider. (Follow-up questions, if any, may have been added by LiveJournal.)

 View 52 Answers

I'd drop something first, and everything would go awry.

120420 Today's Blah

My daughter blogs. 

The Legend of Me

An exhilarating tale of friendship and conquest.

She writes well. Several years ago, she wrote some fantasy short stories while I was taking a few college level writing classes. I intended to write professionally, and accomplished that goal. It didn't, and still doesn't pay well. Her father read the stories, and made some disparaging comments that crushed her spirit. How appalling! He never wrote more than what was required by basic necessity or coercion, (school).  By the age of 40, he had written two letters, some papers in high school, and a number of short incident reports.

He claimed that as a reader, he should be able to criticize another person's writing. Yes, and no. A reader can say that he likes or dislikes something, but fails to give constructive criticism until he knows how to write something himself. Combining words on a page takes effort. A mere reader is not that helpful to a beginning writer. I tried to tell her that she was young and still learning, but she quit writing stories.

My daughter blogs, and it is good for her. She does well with writing projects at college, so maybe someday she will write fiction again. I don't read much fiction anymore. Maybe, I feel that all the stories have been written, though it hasn't stopped me from writing more of them. I just don't read anything new. When I looked at all the books I have read in the last year, they were almost all non-fiction. If Moon wrote fiction, however, I'd read that.