Category: Blog

  • Things My Grandpa Taught Me – O for Orion

     

    I spent my summers on my grandfather’s farm, a truly rural place that seemed to be on another planet.  There were six street lights down the only paved road in town, one general store and a school house that combined kindergarten through ninth grades in two small rooms with twenty students.  There were 130 residents there Grandpa would say; if you counted the sheep and cows.

    I worked in his store during the day and made dinner at night while he and my grandmother worked the garden.  It seemed to me like a hard life for a twelve year old that had only done a few chores and then played with friends on previous summers but I was away from my parents and siblings on what seemed a grand adventure so I loved every minute of it.

    It was dark there at night and the stars were clearly visible in that huge expanse that loomed above the world.  After all the work was done Grandpa would show me a new constellation each night in his heavy astronomy book then we headed outside to find it in the sky above us.  He would turn on his huge flashlight and point out the designs so I could see them too and I was amazed as each night the sky seemed more familiar to me.

    My first constellation was Orion, three stars in a sort of straight line formed his belt, there were others around it that represented the warrior’s arms and legs and weapons.  The following nights I learned Canis Major and Canis Minor, his two hunting dogs that stood beside him as the three of them faced off against the rearing bull, Taurus.  That monster was clearly recognized by the red star that formed his eye.

    There were other constellations depending on the time of season, Scorpio, Draco the Dragon and Andromeda; but Orion was always the starting point; everything new was related to Orion’s position in the sky. It was our signpost, our go to before we struck out to learn any new constellations.


    It’s been years and Grandpa has passed, buried below that vast star-filled sky in rural Utah where I’m sure he gazes at the magnificent view of the constellations he loved each night.

    I seldom visit that small town anymore but even today, in the big city where only the brightest of stars are visible, I glance up and search for Orion.  It’s the landmark that lets me know that the world around me has changed but the heavens remain the same.  It acts like an anchor for me, a stepping off place before I explore and the light on the front porch when I’m heading home.

    And for that sense of peace I will always thank Grandpa.

  • N is for Nice Girls Writing Naughty

     

    Since I am not affiliated personally with the blog Nice Girls Writing Naughty, I feel it’s not inappropriate to promote the group. On the other hand our own very dear and talented team of A. Catherine Noon and Rachel Wilder are very justifiably represented. I can personally vouch that these two are both extremely nice. And they write some extremely delicious naughtiness.

    In case you had not guessed the novel content of these authors is erotica in various, glorious forms. To give fair warning, you may not want to open their home page at work. But I urge you to check them out if you like steamy romance.  Here’s the link.

     

    They even have a reading club in which various titles are discussed on a regular basis. I hope you’ll check it out!

    So, dear reader, what’s on your novel wish list? Personally, I’m looking forward to the next Noon and Wilder publication.

     

  • M is for Man-titty

    This week, I will be enjoying a bevy of man-titty at the Romantic Times Convention in Las Vegas,Nevada.

    I recently read an article in the New York Times.  The article was a look into the romance industry regarding male romance cover models.

    According the the article, having a man on the cover of your book is three times more likely to sell than a woman on the cover.  Of course it stands to reason (at least in other blogs I’ve read) that a topless man will sell even more.

    The article doesn’t say whether couples sell well together, and whether said couples sell better clothed or nude.

    I’ve always had couples on my books or in one case, two men and a woman.   And I prefer them partially clothed.  I think clothes tell a lot about what you are going to be reading. Gives you a sense of time, characters and heat level. I usually assume the less clothes, the hotter the book.

    I have to say I’m not a huge fan of man-titty.  Down girls…down.  Let me clarify.  What I mean to say is… I’m confused by a single half-naked man on the cover.  I know.  Aren’t we all?

    Obviously if I’m familiar with the author or a certain house imprint, I can make assumptions on what I’m buying.  No, I’m not talking about authors or imprints within a house that give you an idea of what to expect. I’m talking about that random shot, with nothing but the man-titty.

     

    Let’s examine:

    OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

    Okay – What is going on with this dude?  He seems young.  No tattoos, so I’m thinking the book isn’t about bikers or bad-boys.  No dog tags so not military.  No head, so no idea if he has long hair or short.  No background – so no idea if it is historical, contemporary or futuristic.  Do you understand my confusion?

    When a man on a book cover has no shirt on, I have no idea what kind of book it is. Of course, this does cause me to occasionally pick up the book and look at the back.  Especially if he’s good looking, like our model above.  In the case of e-books, I’ll click on the blurb to find out more.

    Now as I writer – I love to find pictures like this on the web, because it sparks my imagination and I can write a story.

    So readers, do you have a story to tell about our hero above?

    ~Tina

     

     

     

  • For the Love of a Library

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    I didn’t like books at first.  I liked it when my dad read to me, but I didn’t read myself.  I learned how to read interesting books around age six, graduating from the boring “See Jane Run” types.  My mother had a set from when she was a child that were graded by year, and I read those.  But something was still missing.

    Then my father took me to the library and showed me how to find good books.  The first couple times, he picked for me and I couldn’t figure out how to do it for myself.  When I picked out books, they didn’t have the same “fun” that the ones he picked did – like the one about the cat who lived in a firehouse and was a hero.

    One day, I got determined and marched into the library at school.  I found Phyllis A. Whitney’s mysteries and that’s when it happened:  the inner worlds opened and I glimpsed the power and glory of books.  I’ve never looked back.

    Recently, two friends on an online writing forums shared how they pared down their book collection because their books were mostly ebooks now.  It unsettled me, deeply, because I adore my library.  I love the look and feel of the books, and I love coming home to the dining room/library.  In January of 2015 I went through on a massive project to re-classify and organize all my books (of which the above picture is only a fraction).  My husband and I have a lot of books.  While there may come a time where I cull the physical library, it will not be this day.  (Thank you, Peter Jackson, for that syntax [from The Return of the King, Aragorn’s speech to the Men of the West and the Riders of Rohan].)

    I even have a theme on this very blog called “A Writer In Her Library,” where I explore and ruminate on books, my books in particular, and share a little bit of my love for them.  In preparing for today’s post, I tried to think of something “Zen” to share, and thought of Lao Tzu, one of the Zen Masters.  Then I came across a small blue volume that I picked up at a used book sale for three dollars:  Simple Things:  Some Appreciations of the Small Joys in Daily Life from HOUSE & GARDEN.  It includes such essays as, “Salt,” by Aldous Huxley, and “The Coat Hanger,” by Aubrey Menen.  That’s why I like a physical library – one can wander in and, at random, pull something off the shelf that speaks to one.  I highly recommend you try it – if not in your own library, then at your local public one.  You’ll be glad you did.


     

    Thank you for joining us for the A-Z Blog Challenge.  If you’re blogging in the challenge, please leave us a link so I can come visit you too.  If you have a moment, please check out these other fine blogs:

     

    The theme on my main blog, Explore the Worlds of A. Catherine Noon, is The A To Z of the Zoo.  Join me as I explore Brookfield Zoo and finds animals, birds, and insects from A to Z.

    My theme on my Knoontime Knitting craft blog is Letterforms In Nature and the Built Environment.

    The theme at Noon & Wilder is The A To Z of Chicago.  Since I live here in the city and we have our Chicagoland Shifters based here, I figured I’d share a window into the city, Noon & Wilder style.

    The Nice Girls Writing Naughty have a new home, and we’re blogging in the challenge again this year.  Throughout the month you’ll be hearing from each of the Nice Girls, and during the RT Booklovers Convention from April 12th to the 17th, you’ll be getting live convention reports.  Join the conversation!

    The Writer Zen Garden’s brand new website is up and running, and we’re bringing you posts from me, Noony; my partner in crime, Rachel Wilder (the Wilder half of Noon & Wilder); the talented Darla M. Sands – a blogger in her own right, see below; as well as Grace Kahlo, Evey Brown, and author Tina Holland.  Check it out!

    My friends who are participating in the challenge (and if you’re not on this list, tell me and I’ll add you!):

    Write on, and Happy Blogging!

  • K Is For Using Krav Maga To Kick the Inner Evil Critique Away

    Before you’d go into this post thinking I’m some kind of Krav Maga expert about to enlighten you on martial arts, let me assure you that I’m no expert. At all. At any kind of sport…I’m more of a couch potato, really.  ~grin~

    What I’d like to do is utilize Krav Maga’s basic principles to dealing with the evil inner critique. Julia Cameron calls the evil critique we have in our head The Censor, and in her book Finding Water, she recommends naming it something silly in order to lessen its power. So, if I’m talking about Cruella Von Poopy, know that I’m referring to my infernal inner evil critique.

    A little about inner critiques:

    Each one of us is born into a certain culture, a certain environment that have rules and etiquettes. We’re taught not to cross the road before looking both ways, we’re taught that walking around naked is a big no-no, that we need to shower every day and take care of our cleanliness, that it’s impolite to stare at strangers, that we must respect our elders, etc. There are rules for everything and they vary from society to society. And these rules often create conflict when they don’t align with our personal wants and needs.

    That’s when some people go to therapy in order to first untangle the voices that create the conflicts, then find a way to solve them.  For example, it could be that a man raised in a religious environment might have been taught from a young age that homosexuality is wrong, thus creating an imprint on his personality and a conflict between his needs and who he’s supposed to be. He might feel shame, he might feel disgust, he might feel not entitled to his own feelings…all because there are voices in his head, voices that have names and faces of the people from his circle, messing with his life.

     

    And there might be a woman who grew up in an achievement-focused family. Doctors, and lawyers, and business wo/men who only want what’s best for the woman. They want her to study hard, to get a high education, to advance in the world and make something bright and shiny of herself, something worthy, something…else than what she wants for herself. What she really wants is to live in the country and grow her own organic ranch. She isn’t interested in a fancy degree and title, she isn’t interested in a career in science or law. She wants to live in peace with her animals and plots. But she has all of these voices in her head, voices that have good intentions but they’re messing with her life, with her ability to live the kind of life she always dreamed of.

    So, rather than submitting to these voices, we might choose to fight them. And fight dirty, because there’s nothing as confusing as the pull of a river of people trying to carry you somewhere you don’t want to go. You need to hold on to every branch, every floating object, and kick against the stream like you’re life depends on it. Because it does.

    Why Krav Maga:

    In my humble opinion, we all have a Censor of one kind or another, and we all employ different methods to deal with it. Today, I chose Krav Maga’s principles because it’s a street fight martial art that realizes some fights are too messy to be handled with rules and etiquette and has one simple goal—keeping us safe, no matter what attacker we find ourselves facing. And the truth is, sometimes we’re our own worst enemy, and that’s when our fight, while inside our head, is no less real and dangerous then on the street facing a muggier. We don’t want to get in our own way. Sometimes that means digging deep and locating the source of our inner conflict, and sometimes it means employing a swift counter-attack by any means possible. That’s when the Krav Maga principles come into play.

    I originally chose kissing for this letter in the a-z challenge, but after 4 drafts of posts at which Cruella Von Poopy sneered, I despaired and dumped the subject. Recognizing my inability to finish this post as the work of Von Poopy as opposed to me being a boring individual with nothing to innovate on the subject of kissing, I decided to try another word and see if I could squeeze out a few words. So, I went on a Google search, and after reading about the principles of Krav Maga, I decided I’ll embrace them to fight Von Poopy, because something had to give. I HAD to write something for this post. I gave my word. And I’m tired of letting Von Poopy win.

    How to use the principles of Krav Maga to fight The Censor:

    Counterattacking as soon as possible

    There are three primal reactions when facing danger: freeze, flight, and fight. Freeze would be that first moment we recognize the threat, and then we usually choose between fight or flight. Now, assuming flight is not an option at the moment, because our attacker has us crowded in a corner with a gun aimed at our head, we need to find a way to defend ourselves. Some of us might opt to raise our hands and surrender—and that could be a viable, life-saving option. But if we’re talking about The Censor, a voice whispering mean things in our head, then we might opt to fight back. We could first raise our hands to block the worded low blow, but in Krav Maga the principle say we must change from defending ourselves to attacking as soon as possible.

    Some Defense Methods against The Censor:

    Stop whatever you’re doing and don’t engage. Take a walk to clear your head. Go on a Wikipedia binge and enjoy hopping from one listing to another. Play with the cat or dog. Fold the laundry and cross it of your tasks list. Take a few moments to procrastinate before you get back to the fight. It doesn’t have to be a long pause, especially if you have a deadline, but if you can walk away from the fight for a little while, that might mean the difference between a ruined project and a quick detour before reaching a milestone. That’s the benefit of having a fight in your own head, after all.

    Fight Dirty—all bets are off and all clichéd allowed!

    Make use of anything you have in your arsenal, rather than focusing on what’s not currently available. If you’re in a street fight, you use whatever object around you. A fist full of sand can blind the attacker. A branch turns into a club aimed to the head. A knee aimed at the solar plexus can bring a man down, and then a kick to the head can knock him out.

    Cruella Von Poopy might say I have no grasp of plot arcs, even though I can show her the recipes I have from all the workshops I took on plots. She’s a mean attacker, and she fights dirty, catching me at the most annoying situations. So I’ve gotta be ready to use whichever scrap around me and turn it into an attacking machine. Like choosing a different word to defend myself from the attack on my post drafts, then writing a madcap post about Krav Maga, my take on how Censors are created, and how it’s healthy, and normal, and there are so many methods to prevent it from taking over….

    Some Ready Tools to grasp at when fighting the censor:

    Affirmations—Turn the Censor’s criticism into an affirmation. Julia Cameron advises to turn blurts (criticism) into affirmations. Take a moment and listen to the blurts, then turn the words around. If The Censor calls your work silly, write down an affirmative line stating that there’s no such thing as a perfect draft.

    Go on a Pinterest binge—If The Censor says you’ll never finish a project, tell it you’re already half-way through! If you can’t manage to affirm yourself, try looking for inspiration on Pinterest. I have Pinterest boards that I feel with inspiring, motivational and funny quotes that make me smile and help me battle Von Poopy.

    Freestyle writing—if I feel stuck because my brain is clogged with blurts and worries, I take my notebook and write whatever comes to mind. It can be a rant. It can be a stream of unconnected words. It can be an unintelligible poem that means absolutely nothing. The point is to clear my head, puke it all on the page until I feel clearer.

    Do as much damage in as little time as possible –Go for the jugular

    Do not engage in a fancy battle with your chest puffing up like a peacock showing off his skills. We want this fight to end fast. We want to be swift, economic, go in for the knockout punch and get the hell out of the scene of encounter. Because you can never know if the attackers have backup nearby, or how long it’ll take them to wake up from their temporary swoon. So, you knock ‘em out, then run like hell.

    Some Swift Attack Weapons against The Censor

    Artist dates—another one of Julia Cameron’a tools, and a very helpful one. The idea is to take your inner child artist out for a date. It doesn’t have to be something grand and time consuming. It can be 10 minutes of doodling, taking a moment to color in an adult (or children) coloring book, taking a trip to the nearby flower shop and gifting yourself with a colorful bouquets, or putting on an upbeat song and dancing for the sheer joy of it.

    Call for back up—reach out a friend who’s good at seeing the silver lining, who’ll encourage you and fill you with a sense of optimism.

    Laugh—watch a funny movie or a standup comedy show, read a joke, make use of the ample funny cats/dogs video circling around Facebook, or whatever appeals to your sense of humor.

    Use your talent—we all have one. If you’re a writer, write a silly scene about The Censor and lessen its power. If you’re an illustrator, turn The Censor into a caricature. If you’re a song writer, write a song about it. Use your talent to make fun of The Censor.

    Keep your eyes open—and watch out:

    When engaging in a street fight, it’s paramount to be aware of everything that happens around us. You’re crowded in a corner. The attacker flashed out a knife. You froze. They used that moment to jump at you, but you moved in time and avoided being stabbed. Locating a sturdy-looking branch, you snatch it and club the attacker over the head. The attacker falls. Focused on trying to figure out if you knocked him out for good, you miss noticing another attacker coming from behind you. That’s why you need to keep watching your surroundings. You don’t want to be caught off guard.

    So, I found another letter for this post. That stemmed Von Poopy for a few moments while I researched, but she came at me again the moment I started writing. It didn’t stop me from writing this time, because I kept watch for her. I scrambled for a weapon, remembered Julia Cameron’s advice about The Censor, and wrote. When Von Poopy called my post silly, I punched her by reasoning that we all have a Censor, and that brought on a sense that I’m not alone in this, and that maybe, by writing this strange post I might connect with someone else out there battling their own Censor.

    In this sense, keeping my eyes open means acknowledging the Censor so I’d be able to fight it, then reaching out to others. Because we’re never alone in our fights, even if the Censor might swear that we are. The Censor lies. And if these voices in our head come from an outer source, then we could employ other voices to resolve the conflict. The kind and encouraging voices that push us forward and help us defend ourselves.

    What about you? What are your methods to fight The Censor?

  • J Is For Just in Case

    My friends joke with me that I’d look forward to a zombie apocalypse.  I’d almost rather deal with a few shuffling rotters than a natural disaster that actually can happen. You don’t have to be on an episode of  Doomsday Prepper to need a three day supply of food and water.   Just think back to Hurricane Katrina or Superstorm Sandy.  I honestly don’t think I could live in the tornado alley of the Midwest or along the flood zone of the Mississippi.

    2016-04-12 J Pic 1

    But then there’s no place that’s truly ‘safe’. So the best you can do is have a bit of common sense and planning. It doesn’t take much time or money but it can give you loads of peace of mind.  You don’t have to worry about outrageous scenarios, just be practical about the possibility of a bad winter storm or the possibility of loosing your electricity and plumbing due to construction.

    2016-04-12 J Pic 2

    But, on the million and one chance zombies do come….

    Having a bit of a plan and some extra supplies can’t hurt. That way you can sit back and relax while you’re waiting until Daryl shows up.

    2016-04-12 J Pic 3

  • Is It Inspiration, Invention or Insight? or, Where Do You Get Your Story Ideas?

    2016-04-11 Letter I

    When people ask me where I get my ideas for stories and I have no answer for them except; I keep my eyes open and “it comes to me.”

    It’s true, there is nothing new under the sun, no unimagined ideas, no unshared topics.  There is however an unnumbered ways of viewing those experiences.

    Take Romeo and Juliet for example – of course Shakespeare penned it back in Elizabethan times but it was re-imagined in New York City’s gritty neighborhoods with street gangs instead of feuding families and ‘voila,’ West Side Story.  I’ve seen other versions, one set against the backdrop of World War II where an American girl falls in love with a Japanese boy and the Disney entry that showcases Pocahontas’ and John Smith’s love as their people fight openly in the background.  In fact, isn’t every romance story ever written about two people that fall in love and must struggle to find a way to become one despite their differences, their worlds, their friends and family?

    The basic idea of love resonates as a ‘universal truth’ that most humans face at least once in their lives and each new author reflects that story onto the page through the filter of their own individual reality.

    In “It,” Stephen King brings two now grown teenagers back together as adults and forces them to confront an evil they fought in their youth.  As they battle this monster, they remember their love for each other and come together in the end.  Yes, I said it; Stephen King rewrote Romeo and Juliet as a horror story.  That is his own view of the world, or at least the one he uses as he writes.

    So, back to me.  I write what I know, what I see, what I’ve experienced; and that means I need to keep my eyes open for that element that will bring me to the page.  I may be outside looking at the stars above me or watching a preview for a new show on CBS but both of those acts have brought memories or emotions to my mind and inspired stories.

    So, it’s important I keep my mind open; that I observe and not just exist.  In the Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron calls this idea ‘filling the well.’  Do something fun, something new, or something you love.  And keep your mind open as you do.  Fill your consciousness with the world around you.  There are so many beautiful, and yes ugly and painful things around you.  These are the things inspiration is made of.

    Take that ‘inspiration’ and find its meaning inside you, this is where the ‘insight’ part comes in.  Then invent something with it; something very individual, something your very own.  The universal truth is there as your inspiration, but the other two ‘I’ words have turned it into something new.

    I believe all three must be present to create.  Why don’t you give it a try?

  • H is for Hens

    This sounds like a very odd subject, chickens. In fact my choice tells you just how much I’m looking forward to vacation. You see, in the Outer Banks of North Carolina there is a little historic farm on Roanoke Island. The name is simply Island Farm.

    My partner and I appreciate the place for its history and also its hens. They are even a vintage breed, which fascinates us. And their clucks are very soothing.

    Isn’t she beautiful?

    They also make us laugh, gathering around their water cooler like office workers and running fast as lightning when there is corn on offer. Animals of all shapes and sizes make me grateful. Their presence grounds me and makes me smile.

    It’s even better when the ocean is mere miles away.

    Do you have any special summer travel plans?

  • G is for Goals

    https://plus.google.com/u/0/111300866668767334422/posts/YZwck3Nrdpr?pid=6269099564711326018&oid=111300866668767334422

    20160402_175101As a writer, Its important to have goals.  Milestones that represent our accomplishments in the various avenues of our life.   Whether it is work, our health or travel planning.

    Invariably when I set a goal – I break out my Franklin Planner and write tasks down to complete said goals.  If  I’m writing I’ll set so many words per day.  I have stickers, different colored pens, highlighters and flags to keep track of everything.  If I complete the task, I check it off.  If I miss I put a Red X through it.  Like its an epic fail.

    I often wonder are the tasks as important as the Goal.  My argument would be, “Yes.”  Most tasks I assign myself are for some sort of Goal.  Whether that is completing a book, or planning a retreat.

    I keep a seperate planner for all the Activity on my blog, and of course I have a schedule for the gym.  Not sure why I print and post that every month, but it makes me feel good. 🙂

    I don’t tend to reward myself for the tasks, but aren’t they in, and of themselves, mini goals?  Shouldn’t I spend some time rewarding myself for even writing once during the week?

    As I grow more as a writer, and person, I realize that these tasks are just as important as the goal they are propelling me towards.  Even if most days I’m more like the turtle in the race versus the hare.

    Excuse me while I check this blog post of my task list.   Maybe I should invest in some gold stars. 🙂

    ~Tina 

     

     

     

  • The F Word

    I bet you thought I mean that eff word, eh?

    Uh-huh.  Busted.

    F Is For Friendship!

    I have been blessed by the internet.  No, not because I sent a hundred thousand spams requesting money because I’m a Nigerian prince, or because I offered to provide an enlargement product, and not even to act as a marriage broker for offshore women.  No, I’ve been blessed by the internet with some of the best friendships I’ve ever had.

    The amazing thing about the world of the internet is how small it is.  One of my friends lives in Israel, another in Plymouth, another in Hawaii, and even a couple in Toronto.  This doesn’t even count the circle of friends here in the States that is the backbone of this very website, and who have built it with me from a tiny little blog on Blogger to what it is becoming.  I’d say that “I can’t imagine life without the internet,” but that’s not true: I can, and I’d be very lonely.  My friendships aren’t virtual, they’re very real and very precious.

    What about you, Dear Reader?  How has the internet changed your life?

    And about that eff word:  it was my first swear word.

    When I was about two years old.

    I used it in a telephone conversation with my very gentlemanly maternal grandfather.  “How was the ocean?”

    “Oh, Grandpa.  It was wonderful.  We collected sea glass, and shells, and played in the sand.  But Grandpa.  That water was so effing cold.”

    Dead silence reigned for at least a whole minute.  Tick.  Tock.

    And to the day she died, my mother never forgave my father for using that word in front of me.  He, on the other hand, maintained it was the neighbor’s children.

    Since it’s his favorite word too, I think I’m my father’s daughter, at least in this sense.

    ~grin~