Life in the Middle

Making Runes

2010-09-06T14:54:00.001-07:00

A recent storm brought down a large branch from the cedar tree next to our house. On further examination we realized that one of the large, trunklike branches was growing into the roof. We called a tree guy to take it down. This is the tree that was next to the bedroom in which I grew up. In my youth, I would sometimes imagine it to be my guardian, protecting me from tornados and thieves.

Yesterday, I was mowing the lawn and returned to the tree when I finished. I thought of the recently removed trunk and wished I'd grabbed a branch from it to make runes. I got off the mower and asked the tree if I could have a living branch so that I could make a set of runes. It's best to use living wood because a piece of the tree's spirit remains in the runes. I don't know if I believe that, but it still seemed polite to ask. I was hoping for a sign.

To my surprise the answer was clearer than I could've imagined. The stump that was left from the trunk removal was a perfectly shaped heart. The tree – my guardian tree – showed that it loved me. I sawed off a branch that looked like just the right size for runes.

I had to borrow a neighbor's electric saw because ours was too small (a kid's jigsaw). I made a quick trip to the hardware store for sandpaper, safety goggles and a pair of leather workgloves (my pair is missing one glove. Wish I could find it). Then I put the branch in the vice down in the basement and started sawing. I made 35 rounds (I needed 25, but I wanted extra blanks in case of errors).

I then sanded each of the rounds with coarse (60) sandpaper and then with finer (120) sandpaper until they were smooth. I have to admit that I love the smell of cedar and this beautiful, fresh wood was so aromatic my nose was in heaven all night.

Next, I took the sanded blanks and drew the runes on them, using a pencil. When I had everything to my satisfaction, I took the wood burner and burned in the runes. I was a little sloppy on some, but that's why I had the extra blanks. In the end, I had my full set of runes, made by my own hand from a tree that had grown up with me, sharing a wall of my room. I can't wait to use them. Runes are never stronger than when made by your hand from wood that holds personal meaning.

This is going to be fun!

Me Want

2009-02-10T04:26:00.000-08:00

On the flight home from Christmas I sat next to a woman who had a Kindle. It was so cool. I immediately got a bad case of Kindle Envy. Now they have a new version (too bad everyone who paid the big bucks for the first one) and it's even cooler. It reminds me of the whole iPod/iPhone thing where each successive generation has more and more features and memory and it's impossible for anyone to keep up. Well, some people could keep up and I could keep not being up at all. Maybe some day I'll Kindle with the best of them.

Games

2009-02-06T01:25:00.000-08:00

By now you've figured out that I love to play games. There is a subcategory of computer games called "Casual Gaming". These include Hidden Object (HO) Games, Puzzle Games, Adventure Games, Time Management Games, SIMs and more. I'm a big fan of casual gaming. I love HO Games and tend to get very envious of the PC crowd because they tend to get so many more choices than Mac people like me. For example, Amazon has a new casual gaming center.

Just click on that and it'll take you straight to their game center where you'll find truckloads of games for under $10. You can try most of them for one hour free. If you like it, buy it and it's yours. No box, disks, or fuss. Just a download, a free trial and a credit card. However, you'll notice that none of them are Mac games despite there being Mac versions of quite a few casual games.

That's where Big Fish saves the day. I love Big Fish Games.

If you join the game club you can get games for as little $6.99. Oh, and yes, that "2 free games" thing is for real. I know because I grabbed my two free games. They also have really great customer service. I've been impressed with the folks at Big Fish and their games are an awful lot of fun.

This isn't meant to sound like an ad. For some reason I enjoy getting other people hooked on these games. I think it makes me feel better to know I'm not the only person addicted to them.

Anyway, I hope you have fun at (yeah, that's clickable, too)

and

Out of Print

2008-10-01T06:12:00.000-07:00

Two of my books are going out of print: Explore Your Destiny with Runes and 10 Spriitual Lessons You Can Learn From Your Cat. I had intended to get fancy and make both titles links to Amazon, but it's late and I'm feeling a tad lazy. If you look on the right side of the page you'll see a picture of the books with links to Amazon. Much easier that way.

Get'em while you can cuz soon they will be no more. Well, except for used copies. And foreign editions. In fact, I received the letter telling me they were going out of print and two days later I received the Hungarian edition of the Rune book. One must assume the "going out of print" thing refers to the English versions only.

I'm sad to see them go, but that's publishing. They've both had a good run. Besides, they'll still be hanging around on bookshelves for awhile yet.

Yarn

2008-05-26T08:05:00.000-07:00

I know, it's been way too long since I posted but I had to take a little time out and blog about yarn. A dear friend in Australia is going to the hospital for a tricky operation. She's a member of the writing list I'm on and we decided to do something a little special for her. She's passionate about knitting, but lives in the Outback, so doesn't have access to all the fancy-shmancy yarns that some others do. Instead of a bouquet of flowers, why not send a bouquet of yarn? There's a yarn shop where I live that has quite an amazing selection. I don't know a lot about yarn, but even I could tell this was quite a cool place (it turned out to be internationally famous).

The other writers on the list got behind the idea and gave me an enormous budget to do the shopping. This meant I could get the really, really good stuff. The store owners helped me out in a big way, giving great suggestions. They even threw in a knitting bag with their logo for free. Wonderful people. I'll call them today and let them know that the yarn got to Australia and was everything we hoped it would be.

My favorite selection were two very small skeins of hand-dyed cashmere. I was assured this was the best stuff made and I believed it. It was the most expensive in the lot and it was also the very first thing I purchased. I wanted to make sure she got something spectacular and one touch told the story. Beautiful, beautiful stuff. I learned a lot about yarn while I was there and enjoyed the experience immensely!

So to my friend, Bron, I wish you a wildly successful surgery and good health from now on. To Edith and Merrill at La Knitterie Parisienne I give you my sincere thanks for all your help. And for all the batty folks in my writer's group -- what an incredible bunch you are.

And the Music is Silenced

2008-02-11T20:48:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago, one of the sites where I post my music had a catastrophic failure of their back-up systems and -- okay, I don't really understand exactly what happened. I just know that the site lost all of its data. They're trying to raise the money to send the corrupted, failed drives to a data recovery place. The site is icompositions and there's a donation button on the page. I mention this because it's always possible a billionaire might be slumming and run across my blog and decide to save the day. Or maybe a millionaire. Or a thousandaire. Or someone with a spare $10. Or not.

I miss the site. I had tons of really cool comments from people who had listened to my music. The music isn't lost. I still have my copies of everything. It's the comments and the threads in the forum, and lists of favorites and well, everything that's meaningful and worthwhile about a place that's a much-loved community. I still have my music on Macjams and MacIdol but I hate to see any of the music sites disappear.

Anyway, here's to you, iComp! May your data be recovered and the music play again.

Avoidance

2008-02-07T23:32:00.000-08:00

I gave blood again today. My least favorite part is when they prick your finger to test the hemoglobin count. Hate that. The guy took my pulse right after and it was a little high. I thought, "Duh, you just pricked my finger and made it bleed. That made me unhappy." Five minutes later he took my pulse again and it was fine. Yeah, I get over finger pricks pretty fast. Amazing, huh?

When I finished giving blood, I had four elderly volunteers hovering around me because they thought I was going to pass out. What they didn't know was that my semi-wobbly walk from the cot to the snack table was caused by arthritis in my knees plus cold, somewhat damp weather. Dry warmth is a lot kinder to me. After they plied me with water and cookies, I finally figured out why they were concerned and told them the cause. That made them all relax and they went back to work. Have to admit, it was kind of funny to see these four frail women staring at me with fearful eyes when I had absolutely no idea why. I felt fine. Still do, but don't tell me that.

Why "don't tell me?" I should be working on the next part of the Supergirl story I'm posting on my Comic Books Revisted blog, but I'm copping out with the ole "I'm a pint low" excuse. Yeah, one part of my brain is trying to snow another part of my brain. The sad thing is, it's working.

I also need to do my taxes, but I hate working with numbers. So I'm avoiding that, too.

And finally, I'm avoiding editing my novel because it's tricky and difficult. I'm turning it from Romantic Suspense into a Suspense Thriller and that means tough decisions have to be made at almost every line, especially since I need to cut nearly 20,000 words from the thing. It's a daunting task.

I guess I need to chuck this avoidance behavior and get my nose back to the grindstone. The pint low excuse has a statute of limitations. It is never allowable on any day but donor day. So tomorrow, it's back to work.

Keith Olbermann's Special Comments

2008-02-01T08:30:00.002-08:00

I'm a big fan of Keith Olbermann, host of Countdown on MSNBC. His Special Comments are often extraordinary. He's an excellent writer, an intelligent student of history, and has an unashamed liberal slant. Last night he had a special comment that's definitely worth seeing.

The Flu

2008-01-15T04:30:00.000-08:00

Not dead, but I came close. Last Tuesday brought on a violent attack of the flu. I can't remember the last time I was that sick. It began with projectile vomiting, then came a high fever and chills and we rounded things out with one of the flu's best buddies, diarrhea. What a lovely time.

Unlike past illnesses where I felt like heck but was never actually afraid of the darn thing, this one was different. It was virulent, vile and very violent. (Ah, alliteration! Such fun). High fevers tend to addle my mind to a frightening degree and this high fever was a terror. At one point, I woke up and found myself lying on my side in the bathtub, the water having grown cold while I slept. I did not remember getting in the tub, nor how I fell asleep in it. I count myself lucky that my tub drain leaks a bit, therefore taking the water level down just enough to keep me from drowning. Even in my my fever-addled state I realized how close I'd come.

I managed to keep myself awake long enough after that to determine I was in a safe place before nodding off again. There was a lot of sleeping (constantly interrupted by dashes to the bathroom). I called a friend and asked her to check up on me, which she did. All day long she called to make sure I was still okay. (She lives in another state so calling was her only option).

After days of battling the symptoms, it finally abated. I was left feeling weak, wrung out, but alive and on the mend. I've almost regained my strength now. I'm eating again and have been taking it easy, hoping to hasten my full recovery. I don't know what strain of the flu I had, but do whatever you can to avoid it. Get a flu shot or go live on a deserted island or something, but avoid this bad boy with everything you have. It's truly the worst case of flu I've ever experienced.

Happy New Year!

2008-01-01T00:14:00.000-08:00

I'm back home after a trip to Wisconsin to spend Christmas with my Mom and my brothers and their families. Great trip as always. I had such a great time. As always, it was too short.

And now it's 2008, a brand new year. I won't bore you with a list of resolutions. I tend not to make actual resolutions, as a rule. It's more a sincere hope that the year will be a good one for me and everyone I know and love. I could use a good year as last year held some big disappointments in my professional life. Won't bore you with those details, either.

The past couple of days I've been working on the comic whose story I will be revisiting on my other blog. When I finish that, I'll be working on getting some projects ready to pitch, as well as polishing a query letter I'm hoping will snag a new agent (please, Lord, make it a GOOD agent this time! I've had 4 agents in my life for various things (voice acting, TV writing, and books) and so far I'm 0 for 4 as far as good ones go. I'm not giving up; I'm just hoping that this time things work out better). I'm a lot better at writing than I am at pitching and querying, but the latter is a necessary part of the profession, so I simply have to do the best I possibly can. That's as close to a resolution as I'll probably get.

Here's hoping anyone who's reading has a fantastic 2008 that surpasses all your own hopes, dreams, and resolutions! Happy New Year!

A little holiday music

2007-12-20T04:41:00.000-08:00

I've been collaborating with a gentleman who goes by the name Wal4u at iCompositions (along with his son, Wal4uJr). We've done two duets in a holiday theme so I thought I'd share them with you.

The first is Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas and it's nice and jazzy.

The second is Baby, It's Cold Outside. I really like the way this one came out.

Have a listen, drink something warm and inebriating, and have yourself a jazzy little Christmas!

Happy Birthday

2007-12-16T00:22:00.000-08:00

Today is my birthday. When you have a birthday in December it tends to get wrapped up in Christmas and the new year. People like to give you "combination" birthday and Christmas presents. And you are a year older very near when the world is also a year older (in a calendar sense of the word, of course). It's a time for introspection and resolutions, for family and friends.

For me, this is also one of those nasty "decade" birthdays that appear to exist simply to make a person feel old. It's doing its job well. Of course, it doesn't help that there's a very high decibal party next door with loud music, shouting 20-yr-olds (it's really just conversation, but it's so loud that shouting is the only way to communicate. I know because I popped in last year and nearly went deaf). They share a wall with me and there is a small hallway leading to their front door where one of my windows is. No way to temper that noise level.

No one local is doing anything for my birthday but I've already gotten a great gift from one of my best friends. I also know there will be phone calls from my mom and brothers today, as well as cards.

I'm now going to bake myself a cake. No candles needed. I know how old I am.

5 random or weird things about me

2007-12-14T01:47:00.000-08:00

I have been tagged and need to give 5 random or weird facts about myself. Here’s how it works:

Link to the tagger and post these rules on your blog. Share five facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird. Tag five people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

I was tagged by Dawn over at It Had to be Said (she's also the wise and mysterious tarot card reader I mentioned before in this blog.) Okay, here's my list and let me figure out whom to tag next. Hmm...

1. I am double-jointed. My hands are especially double-jointed and although this was loads of fun as a kid (I could do bizarre things with my thumb and fingers as they bent in unnatural ways -- the pose in the photo at left is something I call "cauliflower hand". It's quite unatractive in person, though it does have a fascinating "Escher-like" quality to it, don't you think?.) eventually it led to me getting trigger finger. That stopped my career as a technical illustrator in aerospace. No biggie because I really wanted to pursue voice acting at the time anyway.

2. I was a huge fan of Barbra Streisand when I was a little girl. I had all her albums and used to listen to them every day and sing along in front of a mirror. I bought my very own record player (a cheap yellow plastic beauty) for $40, using all of my savings, birthday and Christmas money. I used to put the speakers next to my ears and lie under the small record stand, pretending I had headphones.

3. I took a year off of college between my sophomore and junior year, worked as a member of a grounds crew at a resort, then as a factory worker at Carnation Co. and finally as a parts finisher in a fiberglass company to earn money for six months. I then spent the next 6 months back-packing through Europe with two friends. It was the adventure of a lifetime.

4. I can crochet. I've crocheted a number of afghans and 'lapghans' for myself and for friends and family. I can also crochet lace and have made pieces for several friends. I learned how to crochet lace when I visited my relatives in Norway during that European trip I mentioned in #3. You can see a sample of my lace in the photo.

5. I have a fantastic family. I constantly hear about the difficulties friends and acquaintances have with mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters and I feel completely blessed. I adored my father, who died too young. I get along great with both of my brothers. And my mother is my favorite person on the planet. I adore and admire her to the depths of my soul. It isn't that we don't have differences in my family. We do. But what matters to us isn't what separates us, but what holds us together. I feel for anyone who has difficulties in this area. I figure I just won the lottery when I was born.

There are my five random and/or weird personal facts. They look more random than weird to me. I guess I'm just too normal for interesting weirdness. Well, except for that double-jointed thing. It can get weird.

And now, here are my five unsuspecting victims:

Laura Hamby, romance writer and chocoholic who can be found at Laura Hamby's Musings of a Chocoholic Romance Novelist

Amelia Elias, paranormal romance writer without shame whose blog is This Wasn't In The Job Description

Grace Tyler, romance writer and businesswoman who can be found at Grace Tyler

Fred Sandsmark, professional writer, independant businessman, a possible relative (we don't actually know, though probably not) and a fine human being who has many blogs including Fred Sandsmark's Blog

and

Ed Pahule, technical writer and novelist whose blog is worth reading at Upon Reflection

Give Blood

2007-12-06T22:29:00.001-08:00

Today I donated blood at the Red Cross. I'm type O-, the univeral donor. Hospitals always need a big supply of O- so the Red Cross has special incentives for us. Depending on how much we give, we can get t-shirts, jackets, etc. Last year, I donated my prize back to the Red Cross. I'm just in it for the free cookies. (Well, not really but my donation center does have Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies -- not too shabby).

If you're able to give, consider donating some blood. I stopped at 7-11 prior to going to the donation center and talked the clerks into donating. It doesn't take much time and your donation can save up to 3 lives. Pretty easy way to be a hero, don't you think? G'won, give it a try. Call 1-800-GIVE-LIFE (1-800-448-3543) or visit their website and make an appointment. Free cookies and juice -- can't beat that!

Absolute Write Blogchain #13: Give Peace a Chance

2007-12-05T21:39:00.000-08:00

The December Absolute Write blogchain (lucky number 13) has begun and tag, I'm it! Kat, over at A thoughtful life wrote about making lists, something I do occasionally. They tend to frustrate me because I'm forever not doing at least one item on my lists. Then Gillian over at Gillian's Food History talked about cheating in order to accomplish the day's tasks. Tina at Getting Confused and Coming All Undone took up the idea of food as a source of nurturing and the difference between gardeners and flowers (care-givers vs. care-givees). Then it was a smooth punt to me.

I suppose if my thumb were even the slightest shade of green (and it isn't. I'm a notorious plant-killer) I would probably try to make the flowers and weeds get along, claiming there's enough sunshine and water for everyone. I have a peacemaker streak in me that doesn't remain silent for long.

Online flame wars can be a lot of fun to watch, as long as you're not involved. However, if the subject is something close to your heart they can be very unsettling. Without the visual cues of body language and the aural clues of tone of voice, we are left with only the printed word. Words can hurt (that sticks and stones axiom never did make a lot of sense to me).

I've mediated a lot of flame wars but rarely take part in them. Last night, was quite a struggle. On a message board I belong to a member was denigrating the striking writers in the WGA (hence, last night's post). His arguments were filled with falsehoods, basically called writers lazy money-grubbing leeches (and the multi-billion dollar studios and producers were made of cotton candy and angel dust and deserve to keep those extra four pennies of profit or else he won't get good special effects in his entertainment. Quite an interesting take on things, huh?).

I desperately tried to stay out of the thread, but like a Godfather film, it kept pulling me back in. I did my best to keep my responses short and tried to end the flood of anti-writer posts that ensued. I'll admit, it hurts when people you considered nice intelligent men call you and your profession a string of invectives simply because they're going to have to watch reruns for a bit. That is, of course, at the heart of the argument. "I want my TV!" Well, shoot, so do I. But some things are more important than sitting through a rerun.

Yeah, I failed at my peacemaking mission. When I'm sitting squarely in the crosshairs, it's not my job to make peace. I either have to remain silent, burn people to a crisp or do my best to control my responses. I did the latter. I suppose that's the way it always is. If you're a nurturing person, you do it as much as you can but there will always be those who refuse the help. If you're a peacemaker you will occasionally find yourself in the middle of the war, much as you hate to be there. In the end we can't control everything around us. Lists won't do it. Food won't do it. Gardens won't do it. Peacemaking won't do it. Life will always throw you the occasional ringer.

And now let's see if Jen over at So You Want to be a Chic Chick can handle this ringer I've thrown at her. Take it away, Jen!

Here's the list of the blogs in the chain. Go read'em all and comment!

A Thoughtful Life

Gillian's Food History

Getting Confused and Coming All Undone

Life in the Middle

So You Want to be a Chic Chick

Williebee

Twisted Fantasies

It Had To Be Said

Finding Boddie

Virtual Wordsmith

Random Acts of Unkindness

Chocolate for Your Brain

Virginia Lee: I Ain't Dead Yet!

awchain

The WGA Strike

2007-12-05T00:58:00.000-08:00

I'm a member of the WGA (the Writer's Guild of America) and right now, we're on strike. I've found there's a lot of misinformation out there and wanted to get some of the facts out instead of the made-up crazy stuff. Here's a great video that explains it very well.

I made it!

2007-11-30T02:04:00.000-08:00

Today is officially the last day of NaBloPoMo and I made it! I posted every single day throughout the month of November. Now, I'm going to take a wee break while I work on some things that need my attention. It's been an interesting experience posting every day. Have to admit, not many people are reading this blog so it makes all the work I've done seem rather silly. Yes, I put thought into every post, found or created images, tried to think of interesting things to say, but I just couldn't find a way to get decent numbers. No problem. I will continue to post on Comic Books Revisited every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The next story (the one that begins Monday) is a must-read Lois Lane. She turns herself into a black woman in order to experience prejudice. It's pure 1970s relevance, can you dig it? Please join me for this wonderful bit of pop culture history.

Meanwhile, please enjoy the Holy Chip auction below. It's cornalicious! And consider clicking one of those book links to the right -- they make great gifts! If you know a cat-lover, "The Wisdom of Yo Meow Ma" is my personal recommendation.

Until then NaBlo NaBlo, as Mork never said!

The Holy Chip Auction

2007-11-29T14:35:00.000-08:00

Awhile back I promised to post my infamous Holy Chip Auction. Below is the auction in full as it appeared on eBay. Well, close to how it appeared. The formatting didn't fit the blog so I had to make some adjustments. But all the text and photos are here. Remember: I'm not making fun of religion. I'm making fun of people who rely on false visions in grilled cheese as opposed to the true residence of God, in each and every one of our hearts. Enjoy!

Only once in a lifetime does something so miraculous arrive in the guise of a lowly tortilla chip. For lo, out of a bag of Tostitos® brand tortilla chips did I behold the breathtaking beauty of the Blessed Virgin Mary, praying serenely, the folds of her long, flowing sleeves covering her pious hands. I knew instantly that I had received a Divine message from God on High: "Go forth and sell this Holy Chip on ebay!" He said unto me. Now, it is your turn to own this Miraculous Snack Food.

At first, I merely marveled at the size of the chip. It was as thick as dozens of other chips put together. Half the bag's weight appeared to be tied up in this one, amazing chip. I knew then that this was no ordinary factory error. The mere touch of this mighty Chip of Destiny was enough to make me speak in tongues as I repeated over and over, "Tostito! Tostito! Not Dorito but Tostito!" It was a humbling and rare experience.

Knowing then that the Blessed Salted Wonder was not some oddity to be unceremoniously masticated, I searched its craggy features for the message hidden within. "Looks kinda like a cowboy boot," I murmured, examining the back of the chip. "Or maybe a snooty guy with a really big nose." But yea verily, these seemed so ordinary, so mundane for a chip with supernatural girth. I knew I had to look deeper for its meaning.

Turning the chip over in my trembling hands, I allowed my chili to get cold and my Diet Rite Cola to go flat. So enraptured was I when I first laid eyes on the visage engraved by a Holy Hand onto the face of the chip. "Holy Mary, Mother of God..." I gasped as her serene features made themselves plain before me.

I saw her hands raised in supplicance, her mouth open, as if whispering a prayer or singing a hymn. With a slight turn in angle I saw the baby Jesus resting in her arms, as she sang him to sweet sleep.

Another view and her mouth closes, her prayers now silent and beseeching. Quickly, I made a tiny bible to place in her upstretched arms, so that she could read her son's biography.

Glancing at the back of the Sacred Tostito® again, the form of a woman emerged before my wondering eyes. I needed no more proof.

I was infused with peace as I held the Holy Snack, knowing that I had been chosen from out of so many chip-munching minions, to be the vessel of this Blessed Sign.

But, why me? Why was I the Chosen Disciple? I don't know. I could say it was because my husband left me alone to raise our 15 children on the meager $27 a month I earn collecting aluminum cans, but I don't have a husband or children, nor do I have a job in the recycling business. I might think it was because I recently survived a near-death experience and walked through a tunnel of light toward my Lord and Master, but nothing like that has ever come close to happening (although I did have a near-life experience recently when I had lunch with a friend). Am I a poverty-stricken product of society's uncaring indifference? Well, I'm broke, if that helps. But I have too much pride to play upon your pity. Bid not to help your wretched fellow human being – Bid because YOU are the rightful owner of the Blessed Chip! Bid because only YOU deserve to bask in its Unearthly Aura of Cornicious Beauty! Bid because no matter what you think of me or of my auction, the chip really is unusually chunky and does indeed possibly maybe have the sublime countenance of the Virgin Mary etched in its salted surface.

The Sacred Tostito® bag was purchased in Los Angeles (the City of Angels – how apropos) in a special edition USC Trojan bag. Although Trojans ordinarily prevent conception, this particular chip was born anyway. Dare I say, "Intelligently Designed?" Okay, I won't. Search not for Sacramental Salsa or Nativityish Nacho Cheese, for this chip was not immaculately conceived for such ordinary things. It was meant to bestow upon its owner a true and sacred blessing. Art thou the Pious Picante that canst dip deep into thy wallet for this Hallowed Chip of Righteousness?

Or you could bid 'cause it looks kinda like a cowboy boot. Your choice.

A note about shipping: It's $5.00 for priority mail, insurance optional (and based on the Final Market Value of the Blessed Tostito®). I will offer insurance, but cannot mark in the amount until I know the price for which this one-of-a-kind Heavenly Snack Food sells. Please ask for insurance, if you so desire it, at the end of the auction. I'd suggest you get it due to the somewhat fragile nature of this unique item.

All Tostito® brand Heavenly Blessed Chip sales are 'as is' and there are no returns.

I hereby swear on a stack of bibles (real ones, not tiny fake ones) that I did nothing to alter, shape, or in any way impose my will upon this very special Tostito® brand tortilla chip. It is exactly as I found it in the original packaging – which, by the way, had almost no chips in it because this one was so heavy. Total ripoff.

I accept Paypal or Money Orders. No personal checks, please!
If a personal check is sent, there will be Hell (and possible brimstone) to pay.

Pets

2007-11-28T14:07:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago I mentioned the rune book I'd written. If you look on the right side, you'll also several books about cats and dogs. When I was growing up, we always had a dog. They're a fantastic pet and I love them dearly. But when I moved away from home and got an apartment, cats seemed a better choice for a pet. I had two cats, sisters, and they were some of the dearest friends I've ever had.

You can read the story of Trace and Ilsa on my website. I shared a bond with those two that was deeper than I'd ever felt with another animal. We were constant companions and adored each other, all three of us. When Ilsa passed away, Trace and I turned to each other in our grief (and if anyone tries to convince you that animals don't feel grief, they're full of it).

Am I one of those crazy cat ladies? Maybe a little. I miss my girls terribly. For awhile, I couldn't even consider getting another pet. But now I really want a kitten. Unfortunately, I can't afford one right now. I don't mean I can't afford to buy a kitten – there are free kittens if that were the case and I never go for pure breeds anyway. I mean that pets take resources. Food, litter, and vet bills all add up. It would be irresponsible of me to take on a pet without the finances to fully support her.

So I wait. When I sell another book, the first thing I'll do is get a kitten. Not that selling another book will make me rich or anything. But it would make me feel a little bit better about taking on the responsibility. Until that time, I'll go on missing that extra heartbeat in the room, those sweet soft purrs, and the feel of downy fur under my fingertips. Now go hug your pet!

Geriatic computers

2007-11-27T15:57:00.000-08:00

Apple has just launched their newest operating system, Leopard. It looks absolutely amazing. I watched the guided tour and drooled all over my keyboard. So am I going to buy it? The primary problem is that my Mac is over 3 years old. For most things, that wouldn't matter at all. In the world of computers, it's retirement age.

I've read the system requirements and I could install Leopard if I can open enough room on my hard drive. That's one of my biggest problems right now. My hard drive is almost maxed out. Whenever you buy a new computer the space available seems outrageously huge. "I'll never fill that up, yay!" But reality is that applications keep getting bigger and bigger, gobbling up gigabytes like a hippo in a hay field. Enormous applications often make gigantic files, too. I love the program Garageband (it's what I use to record my music) but the song files are so big it eats up a huge amount of space. Photos are another byte muncher, as are videos and games.

I have a back-up drive and that's where I store the files I don't need to access immediately. But the process of dumping files is a tedious one. Still, it's not impossible so I probably could find the room to install the new system software.

But the problems of having an old computer multiply. It's slow compared to the newer models, holds a max of 1 gig of RAM (yes, I've already maxed out on that) and now RAM requirements keep rising. I'm out of warranty, with a full hard drive, maxed out RAM, and a slow processor. I'm in a position where I have to watch the world surpass me as I type on my dinosaur.

On a positive note, it still works, so I'm very grateful for that. I can't afford a new computer so I'll continue to nurse this one along, trying to stay up to date. When you live on your computer as I do, this is all serious stuff. Without it, I can't earn a living. Geriatric or not, as long as I get that happy Mac face every day, I can keep on keeping on.

Prognostication

2007-11-26T13:38:00.000-08:00

As you can tell by the list of books I've written, I wrote a book about runes (Explore Your Destiny with Runes: Reveal the Secrets of Your Future with this Ancient Divination System). This was not a scholarly treatise, rather it was about using runes as a prognostication device or oracle. It is, as they say, "for entertainment purposes only." Truth is, I do find this sort of thing entertaining. But it can also point to things that may be under the surface, or shine a light on areas that don't currently have your focus.

When I heard about Miss Michele's Taro Blog I had to give it a try. The reading gave me a lot to think about. It's obvious she takes a lot of time, uses great insight, and thinks through what the cards tell her. She's knows her tarot, that's for sure. I don't know much about it myself, but am always interested in seeing how other people interpret their chosen method of prognostication. I know when I wrote the rune book, I used a lot of source material to get the basics but added and interpreted using my own sense and instinct. Writing a book is different from doing an individual reading because the former has to apply to everyone while the latter is specific. Still, they both require a leap. You have to trust yourself and whatever message is coming through.

I'm a pretty grounded person and I don't believe in everything, but to me, these tools are more about focus than hocus pocus. We all have so many things vying for our attention. Sometimes it's important to take a step back, ask for help, and listen when something presents itself. By putting the spotlight on one possible path, we can choose whether that path is a good choice. I thank Miss Michele most sincerely for shining that light for me and for a good friend. We both got a lot out of the readings.

A little music

2007-11-25T10:26:00.000-08:00

On this lazy Sunday after Thanksgiving, I'll give you a little jazz song called Rainy Day. On the piano is Mori Behar, on the sax is Ilya Gerasimenko, I do vocals. Mori sent me the piano track, I found a melody and wrote the lyrics. After I added vocals it went to Ilya for sax. Mori then added drums and bass and did the final engineering. I hope you enjoy the song!

P.S. I tried to embed the file but although I came close, it simply didn't work in the end. Therefore, if you click the link above it should take you to a Quicktime file of the MP3.

Malibu is on fire again

2007-11-24T11:51:00.000-08:00

It's always a horrible feeling to wake up and see that Southern California is yet again burning. This time it's Malibu and possibly some part of San Diego. The local coverage was all about Malibu (photos are from the L.A. Times). 35 homes burned so far, an enormous wall of smoke and thousands of acres destroyed. They don't yet know the cause but the subtext was a strong suspicion it was arson.

I don't understand the minds of arsonists. I don't understand how anyone can get pleasure out of seeing nature, homes, and people destroyed. There are a lot of people whose brains are wired wrong. Or maybe it's some childhood trauma. I don't know. I just know that I hope the penalty for arson on this scale takes away the person's ability to ever set a fire again.

To the people of Malibu, my heart goes out to you.

A Peanut Brittle Christmas

2007-11-23T14:17:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is over; Black Friday has arrived. I wouldn't go anywhere near an actual store today, but back when I was a kid, the big "shopping for Christmas presents" day was enormously important to me.

Every year when I was a kid, my family made homemade peanut brittle that we sold to make Christmas money. It was a recipe passed down from my maternal grandmother. Mom was in charge of the operation and we kids helped make the peanut brittle, prepare the cans (we used coffee cans, which people would donate to us all year round. We'd wash and then paint them in Christmas colors), make labels, and do the deliveries. We hand delivered every pound, collected the money and put it in a little wooden box, as well as enter the amounts in our accounting ledger.

The business started small but grew every year. Everyone in town appeared to be hooked on our peanut brittle, and to be fair, it was worth getting hooked on. It was by far the best I've ever tasted and that's what our customers told us, too. Soon, they relied on us for Christmas gifts. It was a great gift for all those people you don't want to spend a ton of money on (it was very reasonably priced) but want to give a little something. According to our customers, lots of out-of-town friends and relatives received it, as well.

At a certain point, it became a bit overwhelming. We had so many orders we were cooking nonstop. The thing about making peanut brittle is that once you put the raw peanuts in the pan, you have to stir nonstop until it's done. So this wasn't like cookies, where you put them in the oven and don't interact until you take them out. This was hands-on work. One of our secrets was that we pulled the brittle to make it thin (you haven't tasted good peanut brittle until you've tasted the homemade, pulled stuff). This meant we weren't done after stirring. When it was ready to pour we had to time it exactly (not by a clock, but by instinct) to know when it was exactly right for pulling. It was still extremely hot and to avoid getting burned was quite the trick.

When we got to critical mass as far as orders went, we had to make a decision. Do we "go pro" (rent a factory and gear up for professional candy-making) or do we quit cold turkey. We decided to quit. My brothers and I all had jobs or were in college, so the old "make your Christmas money by selling peanut brittle" reason was gone. Mom was tired of the business, too. (Everyone who worked the business got an equal share of the profits. As kids, this allowed us to buy presents with money that we'd earned, so that we'd understand value and generosity. We were also required to give a portion to charity, to foster altruism.)

Our customers were devastated when we quit. They begged and cajoled and pleaded for peanut brittle, but Mom was adamant. It was no more. For years former customers would continue to ask for "just a pound or two" but Mom usually turned them down. If you do it for one, the word could get out and then we'd be inundated with calls.

Even to this day, Mom still gets asked. In fact, despite having been out of the business for decades, last Christmas I made a couple of batches for a former neighbor (and mother of my best friend growing up). Mom's will to resist had eroded enough to promise my services while home for the holiday. I hope she didn't tell anyone (and that no one back home reads my blog).

As much work as it was, it taught me a great deal when I was a kid. We never received a dime from our parents for Christmas shopping. When we went on our annual shopping trip (which was usually a week or so before Christmas because we had to get all the orders filled and paid for first), the money I spent was mine. I earned every cent of it. It made me really think about the gifts I bought. It also made giving every bit as important as receiving, even at a tender age. That's a lot of life lessons gleaned from making candy.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2007-11-22T10:39:00.000-08:00

Every year for Thanksgiving I go to a friend's house and get treated like family. There's always a spectacular meal, great company, and deep affection for all involved. I usually hitch a ride with some friends because the hostess's house is around an hour and a half away and my car is old and has some things that need to be fixed. This year, my ride isn't going. That means I can't go. It saddens me not to be able to see my friends, share good food and conversation, but sometimes life is like that. Hopefully, I'll be able to attend next year.

Here's hoping everyone who celebrates Thanksgiving has a great day and for those of you who don't, well, have a good time anyway. Happy Holidays!

We need National Health Care

2007-11-21T10:37:00.000-08:00

I just got a notice that my health care is going up again this year. In 2006, it was around $300 a month. Expensive, but it was good insurance and because of pre-existing conditions, it was my only option. I have group insurance through an organization for the Entertainment Industry. Paid quarterly, it was around $900 every 3 months. That's around $3,600 per year.

In 2007, they hit us with a bombshell. It more than doubled to a whopping $700 a month, or $2100 quarterly, or over $8000 a year. One would think that this outrageous increase would be illegal or at least catch someone's attention. Apparently, this only happened in California. No reason to care – it's a blue state.

I just received the notice about next year's rates. Again, it's only California. $1030 per month, around $3100 per quarter, over $12,000 a year. And believe it or not, that's the cheapest one on the list. If I lived in San Diego or San Francisco it would be much higher.

What's shocking to me is that this can go on and no one in government cares. Instead of throwing out the broken insurance and medical industry and taking care of its citizens, the US continues to be the leader in backward, selfish thinking. Why do I need to pay the equivalent of my rent every month just to be free to hope I don't need to use it?

The health industry is out of control and we need someone strong enough to get into office and say, "This system is broken. Let's throw it out and start over." I know that we won't be able to fathom all of the horrors of the Bush Administration until decades have passed. We'll be paying for having allowed a dictator into office for a long time to come.

There are no guarantees any of us will live that long – not with the current state of health care in this country. Angry? Damn right I am.

What's your guilty pleasure?

2007-11-20T13:18:00.000-08:00

I'm not a violent person. In fact, I have a peacemaker personality. But I have a true guilty pleasure. When it comes to sports, I'm only a fan of one: boxing. Why? I have no idea.

I'm not a fair-weather fan, either. I watch everything I can find. Granted, the super-fights are the best. There's nothing in the world like two absolute masters, men in their prime, pitting their wills, skills, and talents against an evenly matched opponent.

Athleticism plays a key role (and nothing beats the body of a boxer in peak condition) but it's also a thinking man's game. Teddy Atlas, the color commentator on ESPN's Friday Night Fights and a talented trainer, has often said that boxing is "75% mental". You can almost see them thinking through the puzzle their opponent brings, using the flaws and errors to gain an advantage.

Who is my favorite boxer? That's really difficult to say. I've been a fan of Oscar De Lahoya (right) since his gold medal at the Barcelona Olympics. I loved watching Mike Tyson in his prime. Mickey Ward and Arturo Gatti gave me countless hours of great fights. I grieved when Diego Corrales was killed in a motorcycle accident because he'd always been a favorite. Roy Jones, Jr. was breathtaking when he was at his best. (He once put both hands behind his back and as his opponent began to punch, Roy managed to punch him first and knock him out. Almost superhuman speed. It was incredible.) Currently, I follow Miguel Cotto, Ricky Hatton, several of the ex-Olympians, and many more. I can't choose just one.

I won't wax poetic about all this because, frankly, I'm not used to discussing boxing with anyone. That's what a guilty pleasure is like. You quietly indulge it and hope no one's watching. So, if you have the guts to step up, tell me your guilty pleasure? I promise not to mock you. I'm far too easy a target.

What's your weirdest job?

2007-11-19T11:42:00.000-08:00

Since I asked about strange phobias yesterday, I'll another question that might engender some interesting answers. What is your weirdest job? For me, I think the answer would be: Pea Washer. And yes, that is literally what I did. I washed peas.

One summer between my junior and senior year in college, I needed a job but my finals ran late and all the good ones were taken. So I asked Dad for help. At the time, he was Vice President of a canning company so he got me a job at one of the plants. This was in Wisconsin, so the perfect soil and excellent amount of rainfall lends itself to making some of the best crops in the country. In this case, vegetables.

I started out as a pea washer. I stood on a high, vibrating parapet and watched a large vat of water. Peas came in from outside on a conveyor belt and fell into the vat. Every 20 minutes or so I had to adjust the amount of soap or oil. The peas needed to swim around the vat for a bit and then fall to the bottom so they could continue on their journey. The mix of soap and oil had to be perfect in order to make the empty casings (that green skin around a pea) float off the top and let the peas sink to the bottom. Too much of one or the other and the peas would float or the casings would sink. There. That's more pea knowledge than you ever knew you needed.

As you can tell, there wasn't a lot to do. I stood on my walkway and vibrated. There was one more person in the room, but the machines were too loud to hold a conversation. I tried reading a book, but my boss yelled at me. Full attention must be on the peas. So I took some paper towels from the restroom (that brown paper you roll out with a lever) and started writing short stories. I could hide the pen and pretend to wipe something with the paper if my boss came by.

When the peas stopped rolling in, I became a corn cutter. On this job, I stood in front of a long machine with several other women. We all had short sticks (dowels) and when a cob got stuck in the blades, we'd poke it until it came loose. We just walked up and down the length of the machine all day, poking corncobs. We'd also get covered, head to toe, with bits of corn starch spit out of the machine when it was cutting. My clothes would be so stiff at the end of the day, I could barely bend. Another lovely job.

So what crazy jobs have you held? Can you beat pea washer and corn cutter?

What are your strange fears?

2007-11-18T13:13:00.000-08:00

I recently learned that a friend is afraid of toy balloons. I didn't ask her to explain exactly what she's afraid of, but I understand having weird little chinks in our armor. One of my mom's friends gets the heebie-jeebies at the sound of a clothespin on wet fabric. For me, it's filing. Not the manila folder kind of filing – nail filing.

Ever since I was a child I have been downright phobic of it. Not only can't I file my own nails, I couldn't watch or hear someone else filing theirs. Not in person and not even on television! If someone on TV was casually filing her nails I would close my eyes and sing the la la song.

You'd be surprised how many times it happens. Because nail filing is the universal symbol of boredom, TV writers and actors would take that shortcut at every turn. I missed a lot of plot if it happened too often. Whole scenes in film and TV are a blur. I barely saw any of Carol Burnett's "Mrs.-a Whiggins" sketches with Tim Conway because she filed throughout the sketches.

It is far worse, though, when it's in person. Most of my friends are understanding when I tell them of my phobia, and keep me from seeing files and emery boards. They do their dirty deed away from view. Actually, it's the 'view' thing they usually focus on, not realizing the sound of filing is just as toxic to me. Sometimes they think because my back is turned they can sneak in a quick repair. As soon as they do, I start to shake, cover my ears, close my eyes and beg them to stop.

"But you can't even see me!"
"I can hear you! Please, I'm begging, stop!"
"Okay, okay, I put it away."

One friend decided my phobia was silly, stupid, and something I'd made up. As if I'd invent something as silly and stupid as a fear of nail filing just for kicks. She refused to honor my requests to stop, would whip out a file at a moment's notice and deride me as I turned into a quivering mass of jelly. I could never understand why a small warning so that I could go to another room was such an inconvenience. I haven't seen that friend in quite awhile. It isn't because of the filing, although her attitude does show a fundamental problem.

So how do I do fingernail maintenance? I use a clipper. I'm a master at shaping and trimming nails into perfect arcs with a nail clipper. Oh, and just so you know: there's no picture of a nail file on this entry because even the sight of one gives me the heebie-jeebies. I don't want to have to avoid my own blog.

So tell me – what are your strange fears? Trust me, I won't judge you. I've had enough people judging me for mine in my life that it's the last thing I'd ever do. These little chinks in our armor may be funny to others ("How could you be afraid of that?") but they're very serious to us.

Juggling

2007-11-17T14:31:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to learn how to juggle. So far I'm inept, but I've only just started. Juggling is one of those skills I've always wanted but never knew how to even begin. A friend (Nancy) gave me a "learn to juggle" kit, which includes a DVD and 3 juggling balls. She learned from a similar kit that I gave her a couple of years ago. It really paid off for her, as she stuck to it and bam – she learned to juggle.

Nancy came out to California to visit last year and we stopped by a "Relax the Back" store because she has some serious back problems. She was on her crutches and we found lots of good things for her.

In the center of the store was a small table with various items. Among them were "exercise balls" which were basically juggling balls. A young man spotted them as we were standing nearby talking. He picked up 3 balls and began juggling in that way young males have of showing off.

In response, Nancy balanced on her crutches, grabbed 3 balls and immediately began juggling. It was an entirely unexpected action from the young man's point of view and to his credit he instantly met her display of skill with a huge smile and a stream of compliments. It was a wonderfully satisfying moment.

Don't underestimate people who are older than you are, more infirm, or female. They might surprise you. Next time Nancy visits I want to be able to give her my own demonstration of juggling. So back to practicing I go.

Evolution vs. Intelligent Design (Creationism)

2007-11-16T13:12:00.000-08:00

One of my passions is evolution, especially the origins of man. As a young child I was fascinated by dinosaurs. I memorized all sorts of statistics about them (I knew the length, weight, and epoch of nearly all the major species). I had a dinosaur poster in my room throughout my grade school years and I'd stare at it in fascination, dreaming of what it might have been like when they used to dominate the Earth.

I went on vacation in late September this year. I flew to Mom's and she put me to work going through old boxes of my stuff that had been stored in the basement. This included papers from 1st and 2nd grade and I found drawings of dinosaurs, stories about dinosaurs, papers about dinosaurs – you name it. Yup, obsessed.

As I grew older I switched my focus from dinosaurs to early hominids. Again, utter fascination as I read all the books I could find, watched any documentary that was on TV, etc. So it was with eager anticipation that I watched an episode of NOVA that aired Tuesday. It was about the trial in Dover, Pennsylvania caused by the school board wanting to include Intelligent Design in their curriculum. ID is basically an invented title to attempt to make Creationism appear to have it's big toe dipping in the waters of science. If they could convince the court that ID was in any way scientific, they could make a case for teaching it in the classroom without that pesky separation of church and state the Constitution insists upon.

I'm sure you can see I have my own biases in place. Although I am a Christian, I see no merit whatsoever in ID. I am not at war when it comes to religion and science. To me, they can both exist peacefully. I see no reason to pretend that only one of the two can exist in this wonderful, complex world of ours.

Evolution has 150 years of scientific examples to back it up. It's in the fossil record, in biology, observable in nature, and hard-wired into the DNA of every creature on earth. From the smallest atom to the largest creature, evolution makes sense of the variety and complexity of life on Earth. Intelligent Design sees that complexity and basically says, "That's too difficult to figure out. There must be a supernatural element at work." But for the examples they give of unknowable complexity, evolution already has an explanation of how it evolved.

The trial illuminated a myriad of examples of transitional creatures and fossils, many of which the general public has never heard of. Why? Because since the Scopes trial 80 years ago, Creationists have fought tooth and nail to keep the scientific proofs out of the textbooks our children read. I was lucky as a child, because my parents put no limits on my learning. I devoured every book the library had on the subject, read every article in science magazines, and was therefore able to see for myself the strides science was making in the field. To this day I am still utterly fascinated and devour any news that breaks in the scientific arena.

Does evolution take God out of the equation? Of course not. God is the miracle behind that equation. God is in every aspect of science. Personally, I don't care if others believe as I do. Everyone should be allowed to come to his or her own conclusions. But if you want to interfere with the Constitution and try to take God out of the churches, synagogues and mosques and into our classrooms wearing the disguise of science, then I get upset. That makes God a liar, a charlatan – wearing an ill-fitting mask. Leave science to the scientists. We need them. We need the brilliance of the human mind to help us cure diseases, fight famine, climate change, and all the other problems modern humans face. We can pray to God for help, but we still need the next generation to understand the difference between science and a theory full of smoke and mirrors.

I'm required to think? Uh oh.

2007-11-15T12:19:00.000-08:00

Ever have those days when your creativity is at such a low ebb you can't even write a grocery list? That's me today. When your life revolves around the ability to access your creativity every day there is usually a point when you have a minor burn out and have to take a step back. When it happens to me, I usually take a day off, play games, watch TV, do chores, that sort of thing. It's probably because it took a lot of work getting a Jimmy Olsen comic book write-up finished for my other blog.

Today, my thoughts aren't very interesting, so I decided to look in old files on the computer and see if I can find something to spark my creativity. First thing I find is this:

I like to look for faces in things. My bathroom rug is made of terrycloth, and I noticed that the pattern of the terry made a very clear face. Unfortunately, it was not the Virgin Mary or Jesus. I probably could've charged admission if one of those had shown up. No, it looked more like Bette Davis. Win some; lose some.

No sparks but dang, why didn't I take a picture? It isn't every day you see Bette Davis in a rug. I did find the Virgin Mary in a Tostitos Corn Chip once (and sold it on eBay for about $16). I love seeing all the bizarre things that get sold on eBay and it was fun to give it a shot. Granted, the Holy Chip did not make me millions, but since the whole auction was a joke I was surprised it made as much as I did. Maybe I'll post my auction here one day. Have to find the text and the photos, but it'd be worth it.

And now, off to find other gems of undiscovered weirdness like the Bette Davis rug. There are probably plenty of them, along with bits and pieces of stories. Those are always fun to read, too. Until tomorrow then!

Because It's There

2007-11-14T11:18:00.000-08:00

I am fascinated by Mt. Everest. When I read Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster, I was riveted. Right now, on The Discovery Channel is a show called, Everest: Beyond the Limit. It's feeding my fascination for this mountain.

It isn't that I have (or ever had) any interest in climbing Everest. I did a lot of mountain climbing as a kid with my family and I was never that crazy about it. And these were just hikes in the Rockies, not technical climbing. I used to get a lot of blisters, so that probably colored my impressions of it. No, the fascination with Everest is more about the limits of being human. As a species, we're equipped for so little. No real defensive weapons. No fur. No big teeth. No gills. Yet there are very places on Earth that our feet haven't tread. Everest would have been a natural thing to avoid. The old "because it's there" philosophy is still in effect. People climb to challenge themselves. They push themselves beyond their limits (hence the title of the Discovery show) and some will make it to the top, others will fail, still others will die trying.

Perhaps it's the spectre of death that also adds to the fascination of Everest. This is never a guarantee that a person can climb the mountain and make it home alive. Over 200 people have died climbing Everest. And every year there continue to be hardy souls who desperately want to be among few who have made it.

So what things fascinate you? Things you have no intention of doing or seeing, but simply interest you as a spectator of sorts?

PublishAmerica: A Vanity Printer in Disguise

2007-11-13T06:00:00.000-08:00

When it comes to bad publishers, the worst is PublishAmerica. One could write a book about how bad PA is and they'd probably agree to publish it. You see, they don't read the books they accept. If their daily quota hasn't been filled, they'll accept every manuscript that comes in. Their editing appears to be an automated spellcheck that includes so many misspellings as to make it almost comical. They are print on demand, or POD, and often their books will fall apart in your hands. This is especially egregious since their prices are far above market value -- paperbacks for $30 are common among PA books. They pay their authors $1.00 advance -- why that isn't a huge clue for writers I'll never know. The advance is the only guaranteed money you'll make on your book -- and royalties. Of course, they cheat the royalties, never paying for the true number of books sold.

And who gets those sales? The author. PA's business model isn't about selling books to the public. It's about selling books to its authors. In short, it's a vanity press that claims to be a "traditional publisher". I guess that dollar makes them think they're in that club. Authors are expected to do all of the marketing for their books. The titles are available on online stores like Amazon and Barnes & Noble, but you'll rarely find them on the shelves in bookstores. If you do find one, you can bet that the author personally made that happen, usually at their own expense. PA encourages authors to buy copies of their own books. That's how PA makes its money. They have over 20,000 authors and the average sales per book is about 75. When you realize that 5,000 books sold is barely a success for a small publisher, then you can understand how impossible it is to have any success with a PA book.

When authors wake up and realize what PA is, they'll often try to get their rights back. PA's contract specifies that they own the rights to your book for 7 years. That's a long time to have your baby mistreated. When authors do get their rights back through arbitration or other means, PA keeps selling their books. With absolutely no legal rights to the material, and without paying even the paltry royalties they usually send, PA continues to illegally sell the books they don't own.

There is a lot of information about PA on the web. Predators and Editors has a good write-up with lots of links and Absolute Write has an entire forum for it in the Bewares and Background Checks area. If you've got a book out with PA and you're waking up to who your "publisher" really is, check out the forum asap.

It breaks my heart to read the stories of what's happened to people who fall for these various scams. Every one of them had the dream to be a published author and that's what these sharks feed on. They know that people will do almost anything to realize that dream.

If you want to break in and are looking for an agent or publisher and something comes along that seems fast and easy, that's a huge red flag. It's not a fast and easy dream. It's not about getting a lot for very little effort. To be a successful writer you have to work hard, pay your dues, learn every day, and maybe, just maybe, the real thing will come along. It's a myth that new writers can't get published. Every writer was new at some point. 20% of books that came out this year were from new writers. It's also a myth that new writers can't get an agent. Of course they can if they have a marketable book. That's the true key to success, you see. You have to write a really good book. And if that one doesn't sell, write a better one. Keep trying, keeep getting better and eventually you'll have a genuine agent and will get published by a real publisher. It's not fast and it's not easy, but it is achievable.

Aren't your dreams worth the effort?

On Playing Games

2007-11-12T04:33:00.000-08:00

If you know me, you already know this: I love playing games. Board games, computer games, video games, puzzles, you name it. Being very competitive, I play to win. This has lost me some game-playing partners in the past, as friends decide it's not fun to lose every single time. Although I could probably throw a game to keep a player interested, I am apparently incapable of thinking of this while a game is in progress.

When I was a kid, my family played a lot of games. We would have Tripoley night, where we'd all sit around the dining room table (not the kitchen table, where we had most of our meals, but the big "company is coming" dining room table) and play. I always got excited on Tripoley night because I loved the game, playing with my family, and feeling grown up enough to play with adults.

My mom loves playing games (Dad was more into sports than games, but he'd play sometimes, too). In January, she'll be 81 and has already pointed out that it means she won't be able to play all the games rated for ages 8-80. We're considering flaunting the rules, but agreed that she'll have to earn it. That said, I was talking to her yesterday and only after 25 minutes did I notice she was breathing a little differently. Turns out she'd been on her exercise bike the whole conversation. I was so impressed I gave her a six-month extension on the gaming age limit. Yeah, I'm that generous.

The extension is necessary because otherwise she wouldn't be able to play Rapidough with me. Rapidough is one of my favorite games. Made and sold in the UK, it's sort of like Pictionery with Play-Doh. You can play it with kids and adults and it's usually uproarious fun. Whichever team(s) loses has to remove a plug of Play-Doh. By the end, you can be playing with something the size of a pea and desperately trying to shape an oasis with it (yup, that's a real card – oasis).

For online games, I like to play on Pogo. Tons of great games on the site and they offer both a free and paid membership. With the free membership, you'll have ads, intermissions and about half the games available. Paid membership gets you an ad-free, intermission-free experience with all games available. A friend won us memberships last year (my lottery partner – she wins all the time) and I've had a blast playing the games, earning badges, playing in a league, etc. I have to be disciplined about the amount of time I spend on there, but for a quick 15 minute break, it's a blast.

My lottery-playing friend and I also enjoy playing adventure games together. We each get the game, then talk on the phone while we play, solving the puzzles together, figuring out where to go next, etc. She lives across the country, so we can't do it in person, but when she came to visit me we spent several hours playing a Nancy Drew adventure game and had an absolute blast.

One of the classic game-playing stories of my youth involved a rousing game of Jeopardy, the home version. My family still can't speak of it without gales of laughter.

Some people dismiss games as unproductive, time-wasting and trivial. Not me. Games are delightful, can be a perfect way to spend an evening with friends or family and almost always cause a lot of laughter. Laughing is one of the healthiest things you can do in life.

Aliens Are Dancing on the Milky Way

2007-11-11T13:12:00.000-08:00

This is my one and only music video. The song is "Aliens Are Dancing On the Milky Way" and unfortunately, the sound quality isn't that great. This is a better audio version. The video was done the old-fashioned way -- drawing each frame in Appleworks and then putting it all together in iMovie. Okay, that doesn't sound all that old-fashioned, but what I meant was that I didn't use fancy computer imaging software. I just drew everything freehand.

I wrote the music about three years ago when I first discovered Garageband on my (at that time) new Mac. I adored the program as soon as I tried it. The song's musical bed is made with loops over which I created a melody and wrote some lyrics. I sang into the pinhole mic on my Mac (I've now got much better sound equipment) and had a blast. I love to sing, especially jazz, and Aliens is a salute to the novelty tunes many jazz singers used to perform.

I hope you enjoy it!

I Have An Idea...!

2007-11-10T11:08:00.000-08:00

I decided to join a blog chain through Absolute Write because it sounded like fun. Each person writes a post inspired by the previous post. Samuel Tinianow's blog So You Majored in Creative Writing; Now What? is my jumping off point. He wrote about the misconceptions and delusions people have about writing as a career and he nailed that subject. It's astonishing how little people know, even those who wish to enter the field. He also talks about the fears people have that others will steal their ideas or manuscripts.

I've had my share of interesting encounters with writers, as well. The most aggravating, however, are the people who aren't writers, but have an idea. I don't know where the misconception comes from that ideas are on a par with the actual work of writing an entire project.

When I worked on a half hour comedy at Universal Studios, it was amazing how many people thought that might be their ticket into show biz. People would hear what I did and would immediately say, "I have this great idea for a sitcom. We should team up. I'll tell you the idea, you write it and we'll split it 50/50." What a sweet deal! That person gets to tell me a sentence (because the ideas were rarely more than a vague, general thought usually based on wherever they worked. "You should set a sitcom in this doctor's office! It's crazy here!") and I get to sweat and slave over writing an entire sitcom bible. (A bible can include a pilot episode, several ideas for future episodes, complete character work-ups, and so on.) Of course, there was always that fear that the Hollywood type (that would be little old Wisconsin-born me) would steal that magnificent one sentence idea and make millions. Despite this trepidation, they would usually tell me their idea anyway, even if I asked them not to. When you work on a TV show you really don't want people telling you ideas on the off chance there is an episode vaguely similar already in the works.

Perhaps the most intriguing thing about this is the assumption that I don't have the capacity to think up my own ideas! No, I need this clerk, waitress, long lost high school acquaintance, message board alias, or whomever to provide me with inspiration. It's rather like thinking of writers as typists. We don't have a clue what to do until someone else provides that crucial idea ("Here's a great idea for an episode: Have the main characters get locked in a freezer! That would be hilarious!" Yeah, loved it on "I Love Lucy" and nearly every sitcom since.)

It's not that I blame people for trying. Sometimes the ideas are good and they've fleshed them out. To those people I say, "Good idea. You should write it yourself." And when I invariably get, "I'm not good at writing. I want you to do it." I tell them that I have lots of ideas of my own and am not interested in writing theirs. I had a screenwriting professor who used to say, "Ideas are worth about a dime. The script is what brings in the real money." No one appears to want a deal where I get paid however many thousands for the script and I give the "idea man" ten cents from that paycheck. Go figure.

Bottom line is, if you have a good idea for a movie, TV show, book or any other piece of creative work, that's great. Just don't look for someone else to do all the work. You'll never see an opening credit on a movie that says, "Based on a Sentence Thought Up by Joe Jones".

Now, if only I can come up with an idea for tomorrow's blog entry...

The Absolute Write Blog Chain Participants:

Virginia Lee: I Ain't Dead Yet!
Playing With Words
A View from the Waterfront
A Thoughtful Life
Gillian Polack: Food history
So, You Majored in Creative Writing; Now what?
Life in the Middle
Finding Boddie; A Simple Way to Snort Your Breakfast
Kappa No He
awchain
Start clicking the links -- there are some wonderful blogs listed.

Some final thoughts on my series about fictional role models.

2007-11-09T06:51:00.000-08:00

I had a lot of fun delving into my childhood memories, thinking about which characters made an impact on me. Most I discovered as a child, but there were some I came to later in life. We're never too old to learn from good examples. I discovered Wonder Woman comics in the 90s and that's when I 'met' Etta Candy. You may have noticed that her write-up was a bit different than the others (talking about girlhood role models and bondage in the same breath? Who is this weird blogger?). That's because I'd written that piece a couple of years ago for another publication but decided against sending it in. Rather than let it gather dust on the hard drive, I figured I'd pop it into this series because bondage aside, Etta is an extremely cool character and would be an excellent role model for a little girl with low self-esteem about weight or height or other societal constructs where one is deemed "lesser than" because of appearance.

Most of these highlighted characters had elements of fundamental archetypes. These enduring, almost mythical characters become part of our shared psyche. As mridu said in her comment on Mary Poppins, "These really are timeless and borderless role models." Two people on opposite sides of the globe and we share a love and admiration for these wonderful female characters who helped shape our lives.

There were a lot of names on my list that I didn't get to. I didn't want to wear out my welcome with this series. I figured one week's worth was enough. Everyone from the Bionic Woman (I'm old school and prefer the Jamie Summers of the 70s, but I'm giving the new series a chance) to Scarlett O'Hara (she had an impact on me as an teenager, but this series was about pre-teen heroes) to Cassie Sandsmark (for the modern pre-teen).

Don't know who Cassie Sandsmark is? You probably can see the similarity between our last names. Cassie is a character in the DC Universe who became Wonder Girl. Wonder Girl has a long and storied history, but she's always been associated with Wonder Woman. Sometimes it's difficult to explain the relationship (especially since Wonder Girl began as simply Wonder Woman in her youth). Cassie is the daughter of Helena Sandsmark and the neice of... well, me.

When John Byrne took over the Wonder Woman comic book, he created the Sandsmark family as supporting players. Originally, he had an Italian name in mind. I was talking to him on IM and joked, "Where are all the Scandinavian characters in comics? We get Thor and that's it?" I was just playing with him, but he decided on the spot to name Cassie and Helena after me. "You'll be Cassie's aunt," he said. The comic fangirl in me went a bit giddy at the thought of my name being a part of comics history, especially when Cassie became Wonder Girl. In one of those bizarre life coincidences, I had the nickname "Channa, the Wonder Girl" decades before Cassie was created. It, too, was just a joke. If you say "Joanna" in a fast, plaintive voice, it sort of sounds like "Channa". My friends tagged me with 'Wonder Girl' because it seemed to fit the name. Had nothing to do with the towel pinned around my neck, I promise.

Funny how sometimes life goes full circle, isn't it? I started reading comic books and Nancy Drew books, and watching amazing movies like The Wizard of Oz and Mary Poppins when I was very young. They spoke to me then and they still speak to me now. I have a deep and abiding love for these fictional characters and I hope I have lived my life in a way that would make them proud (if, in fact, they were real. I do understand the difference, I promise). There are hosts of real role models, living or passed, that deserve all the plaudits we can give them. For me, the person who holds the title at the top of that list is my mother. If I am half the person she is, I'll be more than happy. But for a book, movie and TV lover, well, there's nothing quite like finding that special character who shows us our own potential.

I hope you enjoyed the series.

Fictional Role Models, Part Seven: LOIS LANE

2007-11-08T04:01:00.000-08:00

From the title of her comic book, one might think Lois Lane's only claim to fame was her being Superman's Girlfriend. That tag was emblazoned on every cover, giving her an identity based only on the man she loved. But Lois Lane was so much more. She was a star reporter for a major metropolitan newspaper. She would do almost anything to get a story. She was single, attractive, made good money, had a great career, and although she was head over heels in love with Superman, she never defined herself in so limited a manner.

Lois was a liberated, hard-working woman who was courageous to a fault, dug deep for her stories, and wasn't afraid to show the world her intelligence (except when something caused her to have a giant, outsized brain. That was always a bit embarrassing). She was considered on a par with her male counterpart at the Daily Planet, Clark Kent (he of the glasses and red cape sticking out of his shirt tail). They would often fight for stories and despite Clark's obvious advantages, Lois would hold her own.

Her biggest downfall was how desperately she wanted to marry Superman. Time after time she would plot ways to ensnare the Man of Steel, only to lose him in the end. Did some of her methods border on the ridiculous? Oh, yeah, one could say that. But dangit, at least she was imaginative!

It wasn't that Superman was the only man in her life, either. She fell in love at the drop of a hat, sometimes, and had more than her share of admirers. Naturally, something always went terribly wrong, but despite tears and a broken heart she was always fine by the next issue. Heck, she was over it in the next story in the same book. That's resilience!

In the 70's, Lois got a lot hipper and more "relevant". She changed herself into a black woman to experience prejudice (look for revisit of that issue in the coming weeks in my other blog, (Comic Books Revisited), marched in protest, wore clothes with fringe – she was a mod, contemporary chick who was far out and right on and 100% groovy. Dig it?

I absolutely adored reading Lois Lane comics when I was a little girl. She had no superpowers and yet she was fearless, wore her heart on her sleeve, was smart and had her own career. Wowzers, what's not to love? Surely one can ignore the occasional insect body and giant brain when there's so much else to admire.

This concludes my weeklong tribute to fictional role models. Tomorrow, I'll give some final thoughts and then I'll move on to other topics.

Fictional Role Models, Part Six: ETTA CANDY

2007-11-07T02:14:00.000-08:00

She's under 5' tall, overweight, and addicted to sugar. She's in college, lives in a sorority house, and has no super-powers. It's not exactly a recipe for a hero, is it? Yet in many ways, Etta Candy was one of the most heroic "sidekicks" in comics history.

Her best friend was Wonder Woman, and together they fought villains, Nazis, crooks and criminals in every size, shape and gender. As Wonder Woman's trusted companion, Etta could communicate with Wonder Woman via "mental radio", an Amazon invention that translated thoughts into a picture and sound on a mechanical viewscreen. It was a convenient way to call on each other for help. And although Etta often used it to get herself out of a jam, Wonder Woman was just as likely to call on Etta for help!

William Moulton Marston, the creator of Wonder Woman, introduced Etta Candy in issue 2 of Sensation Comics. Wonder Woman, disguised as nurse Diana Prince, had Etta as a patient. Later, when the Amazing Amazon needed help in her battle with Dr. Poison, she traveled to Holliday College in Washington, D. C., and tracked down Etta Candy.

Etta was very different than Diana remembered her. The college student had gained quite a bit of weight after her operation. (In this first appearance, Etta is rather tall -- the same height as the other Holliday girls. Over the course of the next year, she gradually loses height, most likely to appear smaller next to the resident Amazon, Wonder Woman).

Wonder Woman recruited Etta and her friends, saying, "...we need a hundred pretty girls, brave enough to capture dangerous men!" There was nothing Etta liked more than roughing up a bunch of dangerous men, so with her characteristic "Woo Woo!" she ran off to find more volunteers.

From this beginning, Wonder Woman and Etta become immediate friends, and the sidekick appeared in almost every adventure for nearly a decade. Etta was usually accompanied by "the Holliday Girls" -- a group of sorority sisters that rarely had names, and changed with every adventure. Sometimes there were a lot, sometimes just a few. Once in awhile a girl would be spotlighted (usually as a catalyst for an adventure) but they were primarily around as back-up for Etta, who was their trusted leader.

When we got glimpses of Etta at college, she was usually with her sorority sisters (who appeared to be interchangeable as the Holliday Girls). Etta was the leader of the Beeta Lamda sorority and took almost too much delight in controlling the other members. In Sensation Comics #4, she made them dress as babies, punishing those who didn't carry a baby bottle around campus.

Punishment played a large role in Etta's life, whether she was punishing bad guys with her pal, Wonder Woman, or disciplining her sorority sisters. In Wonder Woman #22, one of the girls was accused of jealousy, so she was forced to wear a cat costume and was beaten with a wooden paddle, while Etta looked on. The girl addressed Etta, saying "Please, Grand Mistress of Spanks and Slams, let me eat -- I'm very hungry!" She is told she must lap up her food like the 'jealous cat' she is.

Bondage, punishment and obedience played a large role in all of Marston's Wonder Woman stories, so behavior like this in Etta was encouraged by her famous friend. Perhaps that's why they got along so well together.

As close as they were, it was rare for Wonder Woman and Etta to have time for a leisurely chat. Occasionally we are treated to a conversation that isn't about danger, crooks, bondage, or needing help.

In Wonder Woman #1 (which debuted in the Summer of 1942 -- several months after her introduction in All Star Comics #8 and Sensation Comics #1) Diana Prince and Etta Candy take the train to visit Etta's father, Hard Candy, and brother, Mint Candy, on their ranch. During the trip, a porter brings Etta her suitcase, which is quite heavy. Diana guesses that it's filled with candy, and Etta offers her some.

After turning down the offer, the following dialogue is exchanged between the two friends.

Diana: You know, Etta, you ought to cut down on the candy. It will ruin your constitution.
Etta: Nuts, deary! My constitution has room for lots of amendments.
Diana: But Etta, if you get too fat you can't catch a man--
Etta: Who wants to? When you've got a man, there's nothing you can do with him -- but candy you can eat!
Diana: But don't you like to be admired?
Etta: Sure, men always say I'm beautiful -- if they didn't, I'd knock 'em for a loop!
Diana: Taking off weight will make you feel better and besides, it's unpatriotic to hoard even fat!
Etta: Okay, I'll take off ten pounds. If I like it, I'll take off 50 more. If I don't, well--

At that point, the train arrives and Mint Candy is there to meet her. No more mention is made of dieting until the end of the story. Etta tells Diana that she's lost 10 pounds and doesn't like it. "...gimme my candy!"

In all fairness, her weight rarely poses a problem, and is generally ignored after that conversation. What shines through is Etta's grit and determination, her courage and intelligence, and her willingness to enter any situation, regardless of danger, if asked to by Wonder Woman.

Etta disappeared after an appearance in Wonder Woman #44 (Nov/Dec 1950) and didn't surface again until October of 1960. After that she had a couple of sporadic appearances until Wonder Woman #127 (Aug 1965), which was her final pre-crisis adventure.

When George Perez rebooted the series in 1987, he brought back Etta Candy as a somewhat plump army lieutenant who had a secret crush on her boss, Steve Trevor. Gone was the outlandish short, round Holliday girl who was addicted to candy. In fact, this Etta dieted down to average weight and, under William Messner-Loebs, had a bout with anexoria. Although Etta was still thrust into danger on occasion, she was no longer Wonder Woman's right-hand companion, and had only a ghost of the pluck, courage and determination of that first Etta Candy -- a truly original character, the likes of whom we'll probably never see again.

Fictional Role Models, Part Five: SUPERGIRL

2007-11-06T02:11:00.000-08:00

Back to comic books for our next entry. I loved reading comics as a kid and of all the superheroes, Supergirl was my favorite. She didn't have her own book back in the Silver Age. Supergirl stories were always a second feature in Action Comics and then in Adventure Comics. Her more famous cousin, Superman, overshadowed her as both an adult and a boy. Back in those days, unless you were Wonder Woman, you didn't get a lot of respect if you were a 'girl'.

One of the things I loved most about Supergirl was that she made mistakes. She wasn't perfect, like Superman. Her youth, enthusiasm, self-doubt, and newness to being a superhero led her astray at times. I responded to this because making mistakes is a way of life for most kids. That's how we learn. And here was this superhero with extraordinary powers and yet she didn't know everything and didn't always make the right choices. Sometimes she went a little boy crazy and that led her down the wrong path. Other times she didn't think through problems. Humans are less than perfect and these errors made the female Kryptonian of the DC Universe appear very, very human. In short, she was someone to whom I could relate.

In the late Silver Age, Supergirl attended Stanhope College in her disguise as Linda Danvers. She had robots of herself hidden in trees, had a series of boyfriends were ever so dreamy, and guarded the students of Stanhope with diligence even if it made her late to an exam. Pretty typical student behavior. I know I always kept my robot doppelgangers in trees. Much better than hiding them in the lake, where they would rust.

So why was she a role model? Besides those wonderful mistakes that showed me it was okay not to be perfect, she always fixed her errors with ingenuity and dedication. She was a college student and thinker who puzzled through various mysteries (who's making mischief at the college with fireworks and graffiti? Why is that alien robot so interested in me? How can I make my cousin forgive me for the goof-up that almost killed him?) and always found a solution.

She was also young and pretty and popular, something many little girls aspire to be. She was good to her friends, studied hard, got invited to dances, and balanced her two identities with skill. Supergirl was a little like Nancy Drew to me. Both were of similar ages, solved mysteries, and were popular with all the right people. I found both characters had much to admire. Of course, Supergirl could fly, had heat vision and x-ray vision, invulnerability, and superspeed, so that sort of gave her an edge in the "who I'd like to be when I grow up." She also got to wear a cape. Capes beat pumps any day.

Fictional Role Models, Part Four: MARY POPPINS

2007-11-05T07:45:00.001-08:00

I'm going to stick to movies for the fourth in my series of fictional role models for young girls. Today's entry is the inimitable Mary Poppins. Unlike Dorothy, Mary was older, wiser, and very mysterious. Who was she? Where did she get her powers? Where did she come from when she swooped down from the sky with her umbrella?

I adored this film as a child and memorized all the songs (again, we had the album), accents and all. I was born able to do a variety of accents, dialects, and impersonations, so I loved singing in Julie Andrew's 'voice' whenever I sang the songs. To this day I can't sing them without the accent.

Mary Poppins was an authority figure who was kind, fun, adventuresome, yet with a hint of sternness that engendered respect. She didn't let the kids get away with too much nonsense or go wild. They had so much respect and love for their new nanny that they wanted to behave well. Then again, I dreamed of having someone teach me how to get my stuff to put itself away when I was ordered to clean my room. That's not even mentioning the ability to jump into chalk drawings, fly because of laughter, or transform medicine into something delicious. It's easy to see why Mary Poppins was a kid's dream. She was, after all, practically perfect in every way.

Julie Andrews' portrayal of Mary was wonderfully warm and likeable. Though always prim and proper, she helped the viewer see the woman beneath the rather strict exterior. This dichotomy is one of the things that made the character intriguing. Even without the magic, it would be difficult to resist Mary Poppins.

A side note: My mother went to school with Dick Van Dyke in Danville, Illinois, and knew him well. As a kid it was a thrill to know my Mommy knew a movie star – and not just any star, but one who was in one of the best movies ever. For me, that added to the magic of the film.

So what can Mary Poppins teach little girls? She was strong, independent, respected by everyone who knew her, adventuresome, fun, and magical. She showed me that a little kindness goes a long way, that there's adventure and fun in the simplest of tasks, and that no matter who else in your life is wonderful, your parents are never to be taken for granted. In the end, Mary Poppins left the Banks children as she had come. But the family was forever changed because of her brief visit in their lives. Mary Poppins is a powerful role model and easy to admire for little girls.

Fictional Role Models, Part Three: DOROTHY from THE WIZARD OF OZ

2007-11-04T09:56:00.000-08:00

Continuing my series on fictional role models for little girls, it's time to look at movies. The Wizard of Oz is a time-tested classic because it has great characters, music, performances, sets, and a little dog, too. For me, as a child, Dorothy was the best thing in the movie. It used to bother me that she was so sad in the beginning and had the horrifying Miss Gulch trying to steal her dog. I couldn't think of a worse thing than someone destroying your dog (especially since I didn't know the word "destroy" when I was little and thought she'd said "de-straw", as in take the stuffing out of him. It was a confusing time).

For me, the most frightening sequence of the entire film was the twister. I thought Dorothy was uncommonly brave as she tried to find shelter. She didn't panic – even when the cellar door wouldn't open. Tornados scared me to death as a kid and I forever saw them in my mind's eye looking exactly like the one in the Wizard of Oz. I remember running home from school, imagining being chased by Dorothy's twister. No lollygagging or dawdling on those days – I made record time.

One of the things I loved about Dorothy was that she embodied all the qualities her friends were seeking. She was smart, loving, and courageous. She didn't need the Wizard to give her any gifts to improve herself. All she wanted was to go home to her family. I understood that message clearly as losing my family was far more frightening than even a tornado.

Judy Garland did an amazing job portraying Dorothy. Because Judy had that sad vulnerability, even at a young age, I believed her performance from sepia to color and back again. Her portrayal of Dorothy was the anchor on which the other characters clung, always the one they turned to, always the focus, whether in munchkin land, on the yellow brick road, the Emerald City or the Witch's Castle. As a child, Dorothy showed me what it was like to be a leader. She didn't have to bully anyone into following her. Everyone did so willingly. My eager little eyes adored seeing a film where a young girl was stronger and more level-headed than all of the adults around her.

I used to have the soundtrack album to The Wizard of Oz and I would sing along with it, do all the dialogue (it had snippets of scenes as well as songs), and imagine myself as Dorothy. There were two skips on the record – one for the line "I'll get you my pretty, and your little dog, too!" It kept saying, "...and your little do—, and your little do—, and your little do—." The other was "You're more trouble than you're worth, one way or another." That one said, "You're more trouble than you're wor—, You're more trouble than you're wor—, You're more trouble than you're wor—." Naturally, when I talked along with the record, I always imitated the skips. To this day, those lines are stuck in my head, skips and all. But I digress.

The Wizard of Oz has made a strong impression on so many kids over the years. It's a part of our collective pop culture history and ties generations together in the shared experience of watching Dorothy long for a place over the rainbow until she understands there's no place like home. The film was made in 1939, long before most of us were born. Yet it endures, as fresh, imaginative, and meaningful today as it ever was. A big reason for that is the pivotal role young Dorothy plays. As a character, she's worth our admiration, which is why she's one of my fictional role models.

Fictional Role Models, Part Two: WONDER WOMAN

2007-11-03T00:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I wrote about Nancy Drew, so today I'm moving to the first of the comic book heroes, Wonder Woman. Created by William Moulton Marston in 1941, Wonder Woman was an instant hit. Marston, a psychiatrist who also invented the lie detector, felt there was a need for a female superhero. Little girls deserved to have someone they could look up to, just like little boys. To Marston, one of the major differences between his character and her male counterparts was "love" – he wanted to create a character who had as much compassion as strength. This is one reason her mythology includes the reformation of villains, not just battles that must be won. He was also heavily into bondage and submission, themes that outraged some parents and put the comic in the crosshairs during a 1950s witch-hunt, but the kinky weirdness just adds to the fun when you read the books. Kids probably took it in stride, since comics often had people tied up and needing rescue.

Diana was in love with Steve Trevor, but spent almost no time being rescued by him. She did most of the rescuing (Steve was often taken prisoner) and if she did need help, Etta Candy and the Holliday Girls were often her first choice (more about Etta in another installment).

Her adventures were imaginative and sometimes bizarre. She traveled to other planets, like Venus and Saturn and even went inside of an atom. But her message remained the same: use your gifts, your strength, your mind, and your abilities to help those who cannot help themselves. Wonder Woman felt that her gender was often mistreated in "Man's World" and spent many adventures helping women. She also had quite a few female villains to contend with, several of whom she reformed. Baroness Paula Von Gunther, once an arch enemy, became her best friend. The message of redemption must have echoed loudly among her female readership.

Filled with wild adventures and strong feminist messages. Wonder Woman inspired generations of women. Gloria Steinam acknowledges the profound affect the character had on her life. In fact, it was Steinam who campaigned to have the character returned to her superhero image after an experimental period where Diana lost her powers, took up karate, wore a lot of white jumpsuits, and cried dramatically every chance she got.

Many people think of the 70's TV Show with Lynda Carter when they think of Wonder Woman. Even though that incarnation had some differences from the comic, some of the messages still got through. Diana fought the bad guys, was devoted to her adopted country, and spun in a circle to change her clothes. Not sure what message that last thing sent, but it was a neat trick.

I've spoken primarily of the Golden Age Wonder Woman comics because they're so much fun. If you'd like to see a sample, I am posting "reviews" which consist primarily of retelling the plot with scans from the comic and a lot of cheeky commentary. The reviews are posted on my new blog, Comic Books Revisited. The first story is from Wonder Woman #25 (see the cover to the left), published in 1947. It has three separate stories and the third one is my favorite. It's probably one of the most bondage-filled WW stories ever. I think there are only 3 panels where no one is tied up. It's a corker. I update it daily, so don't miss the fun.

My apologies if this write-up about Wonder Woman was a little too serious and little too long. She's one of my favorite characters and it's hard to shut me up when I get a chance to talk about her.

Fictional Role Models, Part One: NANCY DREW

2007-11-02T00:50:00.000-07:00

This is the first in a series of entries about some of the wonderful fictional characters who serve as role models for young women. Sure, I could talk about real women who fill that role, but as someone who fell in love with fiction at an early age and who has continued that love affair throughout her life, there's a lot to be said for the enduring, wonderful characters whose exploits and self-assurance show girls everywhere that goals and dreams can be achieved.

At 18 years old, the titian-haired, brainy beauty named Nancy Drew wore pumps, drove a roadster, solved mysteries, outwitted evil, and did it all with such courage and aplomb she was impossible to resist. As a child, I adored Nancy Drew and wanted to grow up just like her. I voraciously read my collection of books, used to dream about finding a tree that grew Nancy Drew books (such a weird kid, was I) and saved my 25¢ allowance for weeks in order to buy a missing title.

Nancy Drew had almost everything. She had her own car, two loyal friends who'd drop everything to help her out, a father who was a famous lawyer, a dreamy boyfriend in college, and the respect of everyone who heard her name. The only thing she didn't have was a mother. Thank goodness housekeeper Hannah Gruen was there as a surrogate.

When I was young, the world was filled with strong role models for boys. Things were much more segregated then when it came to what was appropriate. Girls were supposed to care only about Barbie Dolls, cute boys at school, helping their mother with household chores, and dreaming of someday marrying and having children. I was lucky in that I had a mother who constantly repeated, "Joanna, you can do anything you put your mind to. You can be whatever you want when you grow up. If you choose it, you'll be able to do it." There's no substitute for a real role model, like Mom, but in fiction, Nancy Drew appeared to be the grown up version of the Joanna I wanted to be.

It wasn't just that she could solve mysteries. She was incredibly brave – always getting into things and going places that would frighten me to death, like slipping through trap doors in haunted houses, or facing up to bad men with plucky courage. There was never any violence in Nancy Drew. She did most of her work with her clever and cunning mind. But there was always the threat of harm just around the corner. And, man, those cliffhanger chapter endings got me every time!

She was also tolerant of people's differences. Her two best friends were Bess and George. Bess was always described as "pleasantly plump" and George was "a tomboy." George even had a guy's name (I thought that was weirdly cool when I was a kid, though I was happy my parents had given me a girl's name). Nancy cared about the people she helped, always volunteered her services at the drop of a hat, and was like a pit bull when chasing a mystery. She never quit until she'd solved it. Of course, had she quit it would've been a terrible book, but as a kid you don't think that way. You fret when she's in danger, worry that she won't find the answers, and wonder why someone would wear pumps on her feet (my only experience of a pump was the sump pump in the basement. Not practical for footwear).

Nancy Drew inspired generations of young girls into believing we were just as good as any boy when it came to all the sterling qualities she embodied. She's part of American mythology, an enduring character who still entertains today after more than 75 years.

Recently, some of her books have been reissued in their original form. I've been having a blast reading the re-issues – they're full of old-fashioned language, some unpleasant social situations (let's just say they're not "pc" – the 1930s were a different America), and filled to the brim with the adventures of Nancy Drew, Girl Sleuth.

Now, if only I could find that book-growing tree...

NaBloPoMo... Wha?

2007-11-01T00:07:00.000-07:00

Today is the start of NaBloPoMo, or National Blog Posting Month. It's based on NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and the object is to Po to your Blo every day for the Mo of November. I'm not sure why everyone chooses November for this. It would make more sense for it to be a different month because for those who'd like to participate in both it's a bit much. Then again, writing for a living can be somewhat tortuous so perhaps the masochism angle works for people.

Having just finished writing a novel and not feeling completely masochistic today, I've decided to do the blog thing alone. So give me a bookmark, encourage me with comments, and I'll do my darnedest to keep to the program. And yes, that was a shameless and needy cry for attention; thank you for noticing.

I've never done NaNoWriMo. I'm a little afraid of it, I'll admit. As Ed said in his blog today, one of the tenets is that it's okay to write crap. I'd rather take a little more time and write non-crap.

Unlike Ed, I'm very competitive so I'm hoping that will keep me to the blogging schedule that I signed up for. It's not like we're all competing against each other. It's more like I'm competing against myself. Oddly enough, that's my favorite kind of competition. I like challenging myself, always have. When I was young, I worked in a fiberglass factory as a finisher. I used to try to break my own records of how many skids I could do in a night (I worked 3rd shift). It kept me engaged in the work. My boss must've loved me, right? Nope. She kept telling me to slow down because she was afraid the factory would run out of work and we'd all get laid off. Since I was only working there to save money for a trip to Europe, she knew I didn't have to worry about being laid off. Perhaps she thought I was a ringer sent in by management. Anyway, I slowed down and I hated it. No more personal challenges meant just doing the 'thrilling' work. If it weren't for the nightly poker game during breaks, I would've hated that job.

Anyway, here's hoping you'll join me this Mo as I Po to my Blo!

Wonderful Words

2007-10-31T00:33:00.000-07:00

Having used the word 'skedaddle' in the title of my last post, it got me to thinking about some of the wonderful words we just don't hear as often anymore. With text messaging and chat rooms clipping and simplifying language to an almost incomprehensible degree (well, to fogies (another great word) like me it does get annoying) it's a treat to think about some of the long and lazy words of yesteryear.

When I was young I used to walk to and from grade school. If I needed to be home on time for something, Mom would tell me either not to dawdle or to lollygag. To my kid's mind, these words obviously meant something very specific to her, and it was almost a game to figure out whether an activity was dawdling or lollygagging. After all, had I been told not to dawdle, then lollygagging was probably an acceptable activity, and vice versa.

It just came down to definitions, of course. For example, was stopping in front of a bunch of purple flowers and squeezing the air-filled buds until they popped with a satisfying sound – was that dawdling? To me it felt far more like lollygagging. However, if I saw a friend and stopped to sample a new Incredible Edible fresh from the mold, that seemed like dawdling.

Sometimes she'd throw in a ringer and tell me not to shilly shally. Now that was a puzzler. It has a lollygaggical feel to it and yet it was obviously something much rarer, since the instruction didn't occur as often. Perhaps only flibbertigibbets knew exactly what shilly shallying was. Regardless, I would make sure to avoid popping buds, eating Incredible Edibles, and skipping (in my mind, skipping was closely tied to shilly shallying). I felt that covered all the bases.

I suppose today's generation will someday wax nostalgic about the days of lol, bff, pos, and mmtmntloltlt (i.e. "My mom told me not to lollygag too long online today). Personally, I find it a little unsettling to look up the words of my youth in the dictionary and see "archaic" next to them. Perhaps the text generation will some day look up theirs and see a "huh?".

Sleepless 'N Skedaddle

2007-10-30T05:16:00.000-07:00

If you've ever been a victim of insomnia you know how difficult it is to greet the day with energy. Stress, diet, exercise, apnea, narcolepsy, loud neighbors, caffeine, a barking dog – there are dozens of reasons why sleeping can be difficult. One of the most insidious is the inner monologue.

We've all had it happen. We're just about to doze off and suddenly we think, "That bill is due in two days. I've got to pay it. Now? No, when I wake up is fine. Will I forget? I might forget. That would be disastrous. I need to write a sticky and put it somewhere I'll see it. Where are my stickies? Are they in the drawer or... wish I had some nachos. I should write a sticky to remind myself to get some nachos next time I'm – the bill. Right. Need to write a reminder about..." and soon you turn on the light, find the stickies and plaster a note on your computer to pay the bill. Now you're awake and craving nachos.

When I don't get enough sleep I drag around, eyes at half-mast, dreaming of a nap. That was me today. In fact, right in the middle of writing this, I dozed off. Says a lot for the excitement of my prose.

In truth, it has to do with one of my frequent, albeit dreaded, schedule shifts. My natural inclination is to sleep in the day and work at night. However, I can't seem to live a 24 hour day. Mine is always a bit longer. This means my sleep schedule tends to creep up, happening a little later each day. Because I'm also prone to insomnia, I'll sometimes add a number of extra hours at the end of the day. So if I had been going to sleep at 4am, I'll suddenly be up until 8am.

I hate sleeping through the entire working day because it's so tough to get anything done. You can't run errands, make phone calls, or any of the other things we all take for granted. So what I do when this happens is deliberately push my schedule, staying awake longer and longer until it's a "normal person's" schedule. That lasts about a day or two, but at least I can run some errands.

And now, off to pay some bills and get the ingredients for nachos.

Toasted Jammies

2007-10-29T00:26:00.000-07:00

When you're a kid, the world can be a very literal place. Grown-ups tell you to do or not to do something and you take them at their word without thinking beyond it. For example, kids are always told that if their clothes catch on fire, they're supposed to roll on the ground to put it out. Excellent advice as long you assume the child is actually wearing the clothes when they catch fire.

It was a cold November night and my family had just returned from a high school football game. I was never all that into football, but Dad adored it and always supported the local teams even without kids old enough to be in high school.

On that particular evening, my parents invited the next door neighbors over after the game. While the adults laughed over hot drinks in the living room, I went to get ready for bed. My room was the coldest in the house so I had a small space heater to help warm it up. I turned it on high and did my favorite trick – I draped my pajamas on top of it to get them "toasty". I'm fairly certain I never shared this trick with anyone because even at that age, I knew it wasn't all that smart. Still, with careful monitoring, I was very good at picking the moment when they were just the right warmth, without being a danger.

I was sitting only a few inches away trying to get the chill out of my bones, waiting impatiently for my flannel PJs to get warm. Not all that exciting, to be sure. So while I waited, I decided to draw some pictures. I brought the hardback chair over from my desk and used it as a table, my back now to the heater.

You can probably guess where this is going. Lost in my drawing, I soon smelled smoke. Glancing behind me I saw that my pajamas, still draped on the heater, were in flames. Good thing I knew what to do. Call my parents? Of course not. When your clothes catch fire, roll on the rug. Since I wasn't actually wearing the clothes, I figured it wouldn't do much good for me to roll around. Instead, I grabbed the flaming pajamas and rolled them on the rug.

This didn't have quite the result I'd hoped. The pajamas continued to burn and now the rug was also on fire. Oops. I hadn't quite put together at that age that the weight of the body IN the clothes is what helps snuff the fire. Carpets themselves have no innate fire-dousing powers.

Carrying the remnants of the clothes, I ran to the bathroom, threw them in the sink and turned on the water. Happy that fire was finally out, I left them soaking. I returned to my room to put out the fire on the carpet with water in my cupped hands. I suppose that with the way things were going, I feared that had I brought a glass it, too, would have caught fire.

Now I had a new problem. I wasn't eager to tell my parents what I'd done for fear they'd take away my space heater. It really was cold in my bedroom during those Wisconsin winters. With black, burned patches on the carpet, I knew it wouldn't take much to figure out what happened. So I took a pair of nail scissors, crawled under my desk where the carpet was fluffiest, and clipped small pieces of fiber – never too much in one spot – until I had a big handful.

As I was gluing the clippings on the burnt patches I heard my Mom's voice saying, "It's stronger over here!" right outside my door. Uh oh. "There are... burnt pajamas in the bathroom sink!" The jig was up.

Mom opened the door and took in the scene. I was sitting on the floor, gluing bits of fiber onto bare, dark holes in the carpet. The heater's grill was black with soot and smoke hung thick overhead.

"What happened?"

"I was warming my pajamas on the heater, they caught fire, I rolled them on the carpet, the carpet caught fire, I put out the pajamas, put out the carpet and now I'm fixing it." Sounded perfectly reasonable to me.

"Are you hurt?"

"Nope."

"Okay. Get ready for bed. We'll talk about this later. Oh, and turn off the heater."

Having an incredibly understanding mother, she did not take my heater away, did compliment me for remembering the "roll on the rug" thing, told me next time to call for help and forbade me from ever toasting my jammies again.

I didn't.

Arty-Boomer

2007-10-28T00:06:00.000-07:00

18 years ago today, my dad passed away quite suddenly from a heart attack. He had just turned 65 and had decided to work one more year and then retire. He never had a chance to sit around watching sports and drive Mom crazy, which I assume were his plans.

Rather than be maudlin about it, I'm more inclined to remember the happier times. Dad had a good sense of humor and was loved by an awful lot of people. Over a thousand people showed up the day of his funeral. Popular guy.

He loved puns and told the same ones over and over again. It drove us nuts. After dining with new people he always broke out the, "Sirloin! Nice to meat you. Sorry you couldn't steak around" during the good-byes. He could also tuck his ears in and make them 'pop' out at will. This was endlessly fascinating to my friends when I was a kid because it was pretty goofy-looking and appealed to that kid sense of humor. "Your dad is SO funny!" Kids tend to like it when dads attempt to charm them.

Dad was a salesman and he spent his life charming whomever he met. He worked his way up the ranks in his company and eventually became the President of one of the subsidiaries. A self-made man who came from humble beginnings, he used the GI Bill to go to college (after serving as a fighter pilot off aircraft carriers in WWII) and lived the American dream. His father was from Norway, his mother American – they worked hard, never owned a car, and lived to see their son become a genuine success. Pretty cool.

He had an 800 number at work and no matter what he was doing, if I called to chat, he'd greet me with genuine joy. More than once he was actually in a conference but he put his underlings on hold so that he could talk to his daughter. I always found that amazing. As much as he loved his job – and he absolutely adored it – he loved us best of all. There was never any doubt.

When I first moved to Los Angeles, I had very little money, no car, and no job. He came out on a business trip and stayed for the weekend to be with me. "Whatever you want to do, that's what we'll do." I desperately wanted to see the musical "Evita" so he bought us the best seats in the house and we went together. We both loved it. There was a Hitchcock retrospective playing at an art theatre and he happily took us to a double feature. He had a rental car and that meant even the small inconveniences were finally within reach. He took me to a music store to get new strings for my guitar. We went to the grocery store and I bought heavy things and bulky things – the stuff I had the most trouble carrying the several blocks to my apartment (I refused to steal carts on principle). In short, the entire weekend was about me and what I wanted and he greeted each activity – regardless of his own tastes – with enthusiasm and smiles. It's amazing to be that loved and adored. But then, Dad never made a secret of it.

So here's to my Dad. He didn't live nearly as long as he'd expected, but he sure did a great job with the time he had.

Starting something new

2007-10-27T04:07:00.000-07:00

I was born the middle child of a middle-class family in the Midwest. I am currently middle-aged. That's about as much middleness as one person should be expected to handle. In my youth, I rebelled against this middlosity by moving to the west coast to live in Los Angeles, California. I did not go the husband and kids route. Rather, I focused on having a career.

I had two loves: voice-acting and writing. For several years, I tried to get my voice-acting career into the big time. It never quite made it. So I switched my focus to writing and I faired a bit better. I wrote for TV with dreams of someday switching to movies. I wrote nonfiction with dreams of someday switching to novels. Right now, I'm in the middle (there's that word again) of the latter, trying to get a career as a novelist going while attempting to keep the nonfiction career, as well.

I wanted to try my hand at blogging for a number of reasons, but I'm finding my choice of date to start up a little unsettling. Today was my father's birthday. Tomorrow is the anniversary of his death. Because of its proximity to Halloween, I'm not much of a fan of the holiday. I don't go to costume parties, decorate my apartment, or do anything more than try to ignore all the orange and black. A strange day to start a new venture like this. After all, he never lived to see a computer in his home, use the term "worldwide web" or heard of an activity called "blogging." Therefore, in his honor I will root for the Badgers and Packers. I will also blog about the life of his middle child.