Friday’s Session

It’s 10:26, the breakfast dishes are soaking, I made the bed; the dogs are napping, and I’ve just read through another edit of my Chapters Three and Four. I’ve read it’s best to read out loud when doing that. It’s true, you hear some weird things when you do that. I feel pretty confident about the two chapters. I may get bold and share a part of them on the creative FB groups I belong to. And here, as I become braver. I can tell I’m learning, and that’s a good feeling.

The red pencil needs sharpening. I have to laugh at the Pro Writing Aid software I use. I’ve been happy with it, but lately, I see them suggesting to use, say “beat;” and then you correct it, they tell you “beat ” and you could chase your tail all day long. If you turn off the suggestion, you turn it off not just on that one example, but on all occurrences of it until the end of time! Be careful what you wish for. The thing is, don’t totally rely on the software. Sometimes it makes little sense.

Stories. We all have them. We all tell them. We share some; we keep others hidden away and shout others from the rooftops. How do we decide which ones to share? I believe it may work the same when writing a song, and you need the very best of all words for the perfect song. Lennon and McCartney proved that. Brian Wilson lived that. Bruce Springsteen preaches that. Jon Bon Jovi gets that done in fine fashion. They bless us with rich stories of words and sounds of music which tell our stories better than we could have ever hoped to. How do they know?

They know because they have a gift. They’re aware they need to share the gift with others. How generous! We’ve met some wonderful musicians in the past seven or eight years who are local, some are not. We’ve discovered they are very down to earth for all being geniuses. I believe they are. Their messages are always positive, they are all very grateful people, too. You just don’t hear that from a bean counter, you know? There are difficulties, especially now during the Pandemic. Travel and late night gigs are tough on relationships. They make great sacrifices to share their creations with us. How lucky we are.

Writers? I’m finding out how hard it is to write a novel, not just gush words as we do when speaking. When I was a kid, I had a fantasy of being a reporter for our local newspaper. I wanted to see my name in print. My dad worked there my entire life. I was on our school newspaper for a while, and it was cool to see your name in print. That fantasy remained a fantasy. As I got older, the fantasy morphed into writing a children’s book. I have a few manuscripts, I’m looking for a young artist to help me out. I’m contacting her after Christmas and hoping we can work together. She’s very good, and I know children love whimsical artwork in books.

Words, words, words. It’s hard to choose the right ones from time to time. Other times, they flow like a river. Writing against the tide can be difficult. But going with the flow isn’t always the right thing to do. I’m really enjoying the book I’m reading by Carol Gino, “Me and Mario.” It’s about her twenty-year relationship with Mario Puzo, author of The Godfather. Yesterday, as she as describing her learning from him about writing, this phrase struck me: “What you need to learn is the carpentry of writing.” She questioned him further, and he replied, “Writing can’t be taught but it can be learned. Carpentry is the nuts and bolts of writing.” And there you have it. Ms. Gino, if you read this, know I’m fascinated by the advice he gave you. Thank you for sharing it with the world.

One thing our entire family learned from Dad had to do with quality paper. Newsprint has transformed over the years, from 1952 until present day. They have shaved it down, the width is much less than years ago. The thickness of the paper has gone from much thicker to onion skin thin. While the Babe and still took the paper, I remarked the paper itself was so thin you could see through it, making it hard for aging eyes to read. In a bright light, you could see the shadow of the next page interfere with what you were attempting to read. Poor quality.

And don’t get me started about printed books! Oh my gosh, the slick glossy paper is the stuff they make my dreams of. It would be so expensive to have a book printed on that. I’m jealous of the folks that can do that. Maybe someday, I can too. You never know. Thanks, Dad. It’s funny when someone else in our family and I look at a book, we open and feel the pages. “Excellent stuff, Dad would approve.” It’s a warm, wonderful memory. I know, we’re a weird lot.

With that fond memory, it’s time to get back to writing. It’s been a great day so far, and I’m working so it continues. Thank you for reading today, hope you return tomorrow. I’ll be here, as usual. Be Safe. Be Courteous. Be Kind. Be Thoughtful. Let’s all work to make this world a kinder place. Thank you.

It’s Saturday!

My friend, Gabbie Wieck, published her new children’s book. Available on Amazon. It’s a delightful story.

I enjoyed Gabbie Wieck’s latest book, a children’s book. One came to my house for Gavin and Addison to read to their puppy, and one went to Colorado to Kayla and Cody. They’ll all enjoy the cute story. Thanks again, Gabbie!

My mission for these last ten or so days has been to get some origin on paper of what Katie’s flaw is, the thing she needs to change, and conquers by the end of the story. All else comes from this story of origin.

Now, if you think it’s creepy when you think of something, then your Facebook ads reflect that, I have to say it’s creepier when you’re looking at books that are in the same genre yours are, you find them AND all I want to know about stories of origin. Right in front of my face! But why did they not even jump out at me before? I believe it’s a God thing, but also, it wouldn’t have made an impact on me if I hadn’t been searching for it. Weird.

You know, I never really got into building puzzles, as some folks call them. My first husband would seal one piece and hide it so he could put the last piece in place. He’d make fun of me because I didn’t have a “sharp eye,” to find things. He’d had a lifetime of that sort of competition with his six siblings, and his mom, so he had more practice! I tried a puzzle in 2000, I think, after I was no longer able to work. Didn’t grab me.

But you know what, I work puzzles all the time. When cutting many pieces out of one piece of perfectly good fabric, then follow a pattern to reunite them all in a beautiful design. All the clothing I’ve sewn over the years is just a puzzle, too. So I might buy one this winter. I suppose the Babe will not like it on the table, but maybe I’ll put it down in the family room. Who knows. Remind me not to buy a hard one! Some are ridiculously hard. My hat is off to anyone who can conquer those beasts.

If Albert Einstein really did say this, “Strive not to be a success, but rather to be of value.” It sounds like something my dad would say. He often quoted Henry Ford’s “Whether you think you can or think you can’t: you are right.” Very true stuff. We admired Henry Ford right along with Dad. He was mostly a Ford man his entire life. He had a stint as a service station owner, and was very good with cars. Once they progressed to having computers, he gave repair work up. The Jewell’s Standard Station ceased operation when Dad went to Korea. He worked at a Testing Station when I was born in 1952, at least, that’s what’s on my birth certificate. I do remember seeing him there when a was quite young, someone drove us there, maybe so Mom could get his paycheck and deposit it in the bank.

We used to have to have our automobiles “tested”, or checked on so we had safe cars on the streets. They stopped that maybe when I was in my teens. It was a source of taxation for the city and state, and the testers became scarce in the 1970s, I think. If I’m mistaken, please feel free to comment.

I read this morning most authors only sell one hundred copies of their books. And then quit. It could be worse. Always. I think we have enough relatives we can break a hundred. I know a few who may buy one copy and share. The idea is they read it, so that’s ok where you can’t afford it. I don’t expect to be a bestseller right away. That takes time. I do think I’ve kind of narrowed my fiction down to stories of families. Stuff people don’t openly discuss. Nothing illegal or immoral. Codependency, when things are hidden away from people. Lies are told to save face. Excuses made for a loved one. It affects everyone in the family, and not in a good way. What I’m writing are experiences gathered from many households with friends, relatives, and others. The family I tell about is a conglomeration of all of them. No one person or entity is talked about. All put together, they are a fictitious family.

I’m going to curl up with this today.

I have a lot of reading and writing to finish before my self-imposed deadline of 6 p.m. tomorrow evening. I will send Sam all my work and wait to hear from her. One other item on my to do list is to scour Goodreads to find similar genres. It turns out, there are many books about families, their secrets and lies, and the outcomes of each.

I believe as more people are interested in genealogy, more will find disturbing behaviors within their family bloodlines. Many, many men fled other countries and once in the United States, they may have fled another state, leaving whole other families behind. It was also common during the Great Depression. Many children were in orphanages because their dear Mothers could not afford to feed them. Some were placed because the Father’s had no idea how to cope with a houseful of kids if their mother died in childbirth or of smallpox, diphtheria, or some other dreaded disease of the early 1900s. My former father-in-law spent time in an orphanage, as did my Grandfather; the first when his mother died, the second when his father died.

All of these things help make for interesting stories for how and why people become who they are. What they believe about themselves that is categorically wrong. A lot of families just don’t talk about those kinds of experiences. They happened, though. To good people. Good people who deserved better. Life, indeed, is not fair.

I hope you had a good day today. The Babe is putting up a light fixture in the entry. It’s pretty. Film at 11? Thank you for reading. It’s a pleasure to write for you. See you again tomorrow. Be Safe.