tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80870526859743360632024-03-13T01:03:16.707-07:00BlogMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-69385444869905625702011-06-19T16:38:00.000-07:002011-06-19T17:28:36.691-07:00You are only lost if you think you are?While attempting to learn about and write a romantic suspense, another year has passed. Besides reading suspense authors, I took a few side trips. These excursions included online classes here and there, talking to writers, loops and more reading, writing and dreaming as time moved relentlessly on.<br /><br />The RS ended up being too gory-more horror than romance-and too much fantasy. In the laborious process of trying to make myself fit and write what was logical to pursue, I frequently wandered from the goal. I began to play with other ideas: I couldn't help it, avoid it, or shut it down. It makes me crazier than I already am when this happens. And I love that it happens. A middle grade fantasy and two characters emerged.<br /><br />I recently attended a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">webinar</span> - the guest lecturer was... <span style="font-style:italic;"> if my dreams come true agent</span>. Said agent is critiquing pitches from attendees. Wow! So, what did I pitch? Not my Golden Heart finalist ms, not my angel fantasy, not my "real" novel - but my middle grade pitch.<br /><br />Once again I find myself following another path. And I am grateful. I am having fun writing.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-45659120604774495832010-07-08T06:10:00.000-07:002010-07-24T07:53:00.949-07:00Mind Mapping, Fun with Right and Left BrainYears ago I was introduced to Mind Mapping as a creative exercise. I'm not learned enough to tackle the scientific data that asserts the brain can only consciously use one hemisphere. Is this an inviolable truth or are there other scenarios? <br /><br />Could there be sequential, delineated brain activity, simultaneous synapses firing from both hemispheres existing other than in consciousness or subconsciousness? I do not know but it would be fun to explore these questions another time. <br /><br />This is what I have experienced and know about mind mapping. For me and some others: Mind Mapping is a drawing/thinking technique that uses the right and left brain hemispheres. <br /><br />Mind Mapping is a way to develop, articulate, and explore possibilities. I think of it as visual free association. The goal is to think laterally, to let your creative self tap into your wondrous brain and its delightful hemispheres to journey, to explore. <br /><br />I have used it for personal evaluation, growth, and to examine specific problems. It has helped me breakdown and understand everything from emotional reactions to relaxation theory, wiring the dryer, to gardening alternatives. <br /><br />At its most basic - paper and pen are required. I've used typing paper, colored papers, envelopes, a large 18"x 24" pad, colored pencils, crayons, markers, and inks. I confess I still like to color and yes, I still have some coloring books.<br /><br />Until recently, I have not considered using mind mapping for writing. This is my Ah Ha moment! I am excited about using it for writing because of what I have experienced with mind mapping. I don't how I missed this- it now seems like such an an evident progression. Ah well...the mysterious workings of the mind, at least my mind, have to include when it apparently doesn't seem to be working on an obvious level! <br /><br />Thanks to the Internet, mind mapping can also be done using free software. <a href="http://bubbl.us/">http://bubbl.us/ </a> offers a basic explanation and has a handy program for making very neat and orderly mind maps. My hand drawn maps are colorful and messy. As I explore mind mapping and writing I may consider the more ordered approach.<br /><br />I will mind map the characters in the new book. I have a general sense of them but not enough depth. I'll post an update on the progress and success or failure as I pursue this new application. <br /><br />I'll get neat and computerized later- right now I want my pencils, my gigandor drawing paper and inks - I like color, I like words, I like drawing. Whoopee, it makes me happy thinking about it!<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Besides bubbl.us, you might also want to check out:</span><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The New Drawing on the Right side of the Brain </span> by Betty Edwards. I read her original book as well as the latest edition. The upside down exercise is terrific. I recommend it to anyone interested in improving their drawing or if you are fascinated with perception. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The Artist's Way </span>by Julia Cameron. I love this book and it is one I reread.<br /><br />In her article featured on the creativity portal, Linda Dessau references Michael J. Gelb's, <span style="font-style:italic;">How To Think Like Leonardo da Vinci,</span> defines mind mapping, and offers a good overview of its applications. I read her <a href="http://www.creativity-portal.com/howto/a/davinci/arte-scienza.html">article</a> but not his book.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-55158547631285906572010-06-30T02:55:00.000-07:002010-06-30T03:24:41.171-07:00Hoops and LoopsOccasionally, I miss the basketball hoop the children had. I like dribbling and shooting even though I miss more than I sink. In school I was good at a few sports. Anyone who knows how klutzy I can be may find this surprising. But in junior high and high school I managed to participate without significant injury or humiliation in hurdles, basketball, volleyball, modern dance, and swimming. <br /><br />These days I rarely swim; have less occasions for one-on-one and probably could only clear successive hurdles with a gun pointed at me, a big, mean automatic. In college I wanted to take a fencing class but ended up in modern dance to solve a scheduling problem. Things change, often not by intent or declaration; the changes are quieter, more seamless or as the case with fencing are practical. <br /><br />These days sans hoops I have discovered loops. With that discovery comes a deliberate and calculated decision/change. <br /><br />A fellow writer referred me to a loop, an online general discussion by writers that covers many subjects, like contests, conversations, points of grammar, new works, publishing trends, angst, Q&A, and blogs. This is an amazing and vast resource. It is an active, thriving, online community of writers with subjects as varied and in depth as individual writer's interests. <br /><br />Following an extensive postmortem on my Golden Heart entry and several revisions, FROZEN brain and writer's block have been huge issues for me. I have several other novels I can revisit but that was also not satisfying. <br /><br />It is time to move in a different direction, romantic-suspense. After more thought, I am finally committed to take the plunge. I do not do this lightly. My last two years and the pursuit of contemporary led me to place as a finalist in the RWA's Golden Heart contest as a first time entrant. I have done a lot of work yet remained restless and dissatisfied. <br /><br />Changing directions requires a basic shift in mindset, a new learning curve, and an immersion into the genre particulars. This is a little overwhelming. I probably would not have considered this pre-Internet. The wealth of information and postings via loops helped me make the decision. In the isolated writer's world, networking, fellow writers, and the Internet are one of the most valuable resources.<br /><br />Growing and taking chances is one of the exciting and disquieting aspects of writing. I feel energized. There may be a time in the future when both hoops and loops are part of my day. Who knows maybe I'll finally take that fencing class. En Garde!Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-40310563712482726062010-06-22T07:02:00.000-07:002010-06-22T08:45:51.524-07:00Purple hats, french perfume, and pocket rockets<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkVp3hgSbEXuPsNTHVzBYyd_825j7nOY0gwB67SQ5W5-ApMUy84ot5KhS81gnn19m_b0K_bqQE90qqEMXq5jBOGWxE5jyE-xYEz8eTlAG43PEZFIRwX8apkWDHFY4rIyxSktmm-T6a2-m/s1600/imback.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkVp3hgSbEXuPsNTHVzBYyd_825j7nOY0gwB67SQ5W5-ApMUy84ot5KhS81gnn19m_b0K_bqQE90qqEMXq5jBOGWxE5jyE-xYEz8eTlAG43PEZFIRwX8apkWDHFY4rIyxSktmm-T6a2-m/s200/imback.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485612526685257986" /></a><br />The messy desk is back...what a tremendous relief. When I am blocked, I clean and my desk is an ordered place. I clean the keyboard with alcohol and Q-tips, between the keys, and the surface. It is a bleak and uninspired ritual and I persist to keep me near my computer...waiting...waiting for the muse.<br /><br /><br />In the years that I focused on my art, my creative identity solidified, complete with little rituals. Creativity and rituals, creativity and structure, in my wired brain these elements are aspects of being able to paint and write. When I was a younger artist, I would paint and paint, the muse in my heart and mind, never gone. In the rituals was a part of my artistic identity: black tights, eye makeup, lip gloss, long hair, and perfume. The perfume was a counterpoint to the heaviness of linseed oil, turpentine, and oil paint vapors. The rest was just for fun. I'd listen to music, paint long into the night til morning - and slide into bliss. <br /><br /><br />When I grew up (ahem) and more and more people occupied my waking hours, my little rituals retreated. I got tired of the question, "Where are you going?" as I appeared in one of my flamboyant outfits and smelling of perfume. The message was clear; the artist had departed - there were fewer and fewer works in progress. If I was dressed it must be for a special occasion like grocery shopping, scouts, dinner date, or work. <br /><br />The happy dances in black tights disappeared. I have never been a public person; I'm not good with an audience. Yet, somehow I lost my private space too; no one to blame, it happened. In my artistic days, I was about the creative act and the expression - the artist made visible. Jeans, awesome shoes, short skirts, ties, hats, eye make-up, and lip gloss - the outward expression as I worked on my latest painting. Canvases lined my walls, works in progress and blank, beautiful canvases ...waiting.<br /><br />Look artistic, smell artistic, live artistic, do artistic, think artistic, all the package equals artist's life. That was my mantra. <br /><br />As I traveled thru the parenting and social complexities of family, my creativity transferred to storytelling/reading, artful cakes, children's outside art shows, how many different ways could I arrange the furniture, and moving bushes outside. <br /><br />Recently, one of my daughters dragged me into Ultra, the makeup mecca at Pier Park. What an uncomfortable and fun several hours that became. I was made over in the low key way I am most comfortable with and it was an improvement. As I was checking out the clerk held up one of my purchases and joyfully announced to the small crowd, "one pocket rocket." I went red; for some maddening reason I still blush. I had unwittingly purchased a lip gloss that is marketed as a pocket rocket compete with a hologram of a very fitful and lovely male named David who disrobes as you apply the product. All of which she demonstrated to me and the crowd. Oh, and he smells like dessert.. Welcome to the new and improved lip gloss. <br /><br />There is nothing to be done to apply what I have learned or am now learning to the past. But today and tomorrow offer possibilities and hope. Here I sit back on track with my writing, with my favorite purple fedora, french perfume, and David; even my paints and paintbrushes are near. What fun! Write on...Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-22279824109728604172010-06-14T08:17:00.000-07:002010-06-14T09:55:17.595-07:00Between the covers - Reading for funI love Mondays. The day is like a mini New Years day; I have survived another weekend to arrive again at a new beginning. The week stretches before me, a little celebration of possibilities, rife with opportunities. <br /><br />For years I have read quite a bit for research and market study. Reading for pleasure fell to the bottom of my list. I am taking the week to do just that - read for the fun of it. Rather than reaching for the book before I sleep, I'm reaching for it during the day. It strikes me as truly indulgent to do this. <br /><br />I'll continue ee cummings - <span style="font-style:italic;">Poems 1923-54,</span> Michio Kaku - <span style="font-style:italic;">Hyperspace,</span> and James Kelley - <span style="font-style:italic;">Lego-Mindstorms Programming Guide</span><span style="font-style:italic;"></span>. And will read a couple of other authors, Elizabeth Strout - <span style="font-style:italic;">Olive Kitteridge</span> and David Sedaris - <span style="font-style:italic;">Naked</span>. <br /> <br />A few nights ago I reached for a favorite book for the comfort and pleasure it offers. I had forgotten the power of a good book, a good read. I was transfixed by the cadence and the emotion of the poetry. Then I read some of Lester Del Rey's short stories and I was transported - a time traveler. It was one of the best parts of the long day. <br /><br />I remain surprised at how the structure of our lives is determined in small ways. The choices we make either directly or by omission can seem insignificant. But these choices direct our path, determine in no small measure who we are and the texture and substance of living. Reading is a simple joy.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-40368060584355294352010-06-12T01:53:00.000-07:002010-06-12T18:02:50.349-07:00Why we do itIt's funny what prompts inspiration and insight. Yesterday I found myself thinking about boundaries and what is entrenched - sacrosanct. <br />As old as I am I discovered something about myself- surprise. <br /><br />There are few things that hurt my feelings. I'm immune and if not immune; most of the time fairly protected. I've had a lifetime to perfect those defenses. But I realized yesterday- two things cut deeply- automatically. Both are about my creative endeavors. <br /><br />One is disengagement- a disinterest that is I don't care to read or view your work. <br />The second is value. Is there value, beyond the immediate in what I share? Is there a connection, a communication worth rereading and experiencing again? <br /><br />In this immediate and short attention span world of twitter, facebook, email, and blogs perhaps I will become hardened - buck up to the trend. And those two surprising triggers will go the way of other sensitivites. But I suspect these two reactions are tied to my creative psyche. <br /><br />It is evident to me that although writing is a lonely pursuit; it is an intensely social act. What prompts someone to sit and write is probably as varied as the individuals. Yet, I believe the end goal is a profound need/desire to communicate, to share, to connect. For someone who suffered from extreme shyness and has felt alienated most of her life; this realization struck me hard. <br /><br />When I write, it is like when I paint. It is a private place- a flow removed from the daily mechanics of living. I agree with the characterization that painting/ writing (creativity) are a state of being - a flow. That experience continues to be one of the most profound and intense of my life. I had no idea how earnestly I desired to share, to interface socially. I am still looking for that connection.<br />Writing - creativity are the best of me- even though I have not reached/produced my best work. For me there is nothing more personal than writing and painting, than sharing one's creativity. It is what I have to offer.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-77627645412527989012010-04-27T09:36:00.000-07:002010-04-27T10:20:55.266-07:00the power of yesBack to my blog after a break. I meant to be here sooner rather than later but in the final analysis I do what I can when I can. Often, it seems the action is painfully slow if I apply measurements. So, I try to measure things of more consequence like the weight of a raindrop versus a dewdrop, the velocity of ideas, and the power of doing. <br /><br />I am witness to some positive and forward movement in another writer's career. Since this writer is also a close friend, I have a terrific vantage point. What I see gives me hope and helps me in retooling some of my practices and assumptions.<br /><br />Several things have propelled this writer as I understand it from what we have discussed and what I have gleaned.<br /><br />1- An abiding belief in her work. Repeat the mantra. I am writer, it is what I love and will do. This is not to say she has not had doubts. The final few weeks before her break were the most intense I witnessed. Fraught with self doubt and exhausted by the rejections, there were times I know she wondered if she would "make it". How much can one frail writer's ego endure? Turns out, much more than you would think. Try over 186(I think) at last count. <br /><br />2-A support system of writers who share her dream, believe in her talent, and believe in their talent. Add a shake of K. Gibran's directive that<span style="font-style:italic;"> Work is love made visible.</span> Viola - an important network for bouncing ideas, rewrites, and reminding one another after the umpteenth rewrite to wish upon those falling stars (after pausing to absorb and jot a few notes about the beauty of the night sky). Reciprocity-in the middle of the day, the night, returning the energy invested by reinvesting in other writer's works and struggles. My friend introduced me, a loner, to a community of heart, brains, and tenacity. I'm no longer flying solo with no net. <br /><br />3- The Work, the Art, whatever you use to describe that which is produced should be the best it can be. Your best- each and every time - that is what you as a writer/artist owe to the effort. This means rewrite, rethink, redo. For me this is one of the most powerful aspects of writing - bending, folding, morphing creativity. There may not be any new ideas; most writers have heard, "I had that idea for a book." How we tell the story, the characters who they are and the emotions they evoke in readers, this is where I think there is newness. <br /><br />So, a heartfelt thank you to my writer friend for keeping me in the loop and energizing my dreams again. And a huge congratulations for crossing over into actualization. Well done!Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-41883040241011384112010-01-05T20:22:00.000-08:002010-01-05T21:01:21.148-08:00Happy New Year and ContestsOne of my writing resolutions for 2010 is to enter contests. This resolution came to me late in 2009 after meeting two writers at the the RWA National Conference in Washington, DC. Among their good advice - Enter contest!<br /><br />2010 is off to a good start. I placed first in the Contemporary Romance category in the MERWA Synopsis Contest. However, "Into the Night" did not place in the Southern Magic 2010 Linda Howard of Excellence contest. <br /><br />I just found out from a very informed, eagle-eyed writer friend that I am a finalist in the Beacon Contest in the Long Contemporary/ Single Title. <br /><br />I am excited to report that the two super writer/friends I met in D.C. are both finalists in contests. Congratulations to Jeanie Therkelsen w/a Alexandra George. "Demons in Dixie" is a double finalist in the Southern Magic 2010 Linda Howard of Excellence competition. Jeanie finaled in the Unique Genres (Paranormal, Futuristic, Fantasy, and Time Travel) and The Write Magic. <br /><br />Congratulations to Pamela Bolton-Holifield w/a Louisa Cornell for “The Deceit of Desire”- Historical/Regency. Pam is adding this achievement to an impressive list of accomplishments.<br /><br />I feel good for all of us - and very happy to have been invited on the bumpy ride!<br />Thanks for the good advice Jeanie and Pam! This is fun! <br />Good luck to all the finalists.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-46221895956437912282009-12-28T07:07:00.000-08:002009-12-28T07:11:23.907-08:00Computer woesI have not fallen off the planet...but I am considering throwing my pc off.<br />Checking back in to say -have gotten files transferred to laptop and will be blogging again soon. Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas.<br /><br />My favorite holiday is fast approaching - New Year's Eve.<br />Always a lot of hope and forward dreaming.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-38687012951541955392009-12-09T10:03:00.000-08:002009-12-09T10:06:49.165-08:00RejectionAnother rejection and not just a rejection but the dreaded form letter without even a comment. My hope was that the agent would recognize the writing as good and ask to see something else. Yikes- my worst case scenario for this venture.<br /><br />This submission was to an agent whose agency I hope will one day represent me. I studied the market and I respect the work they are doing. When I receive this type of rejection from them I take it seriously even though it smarts. Okay, it hurts. But I am learning not to be ultra-hyper-sensitive. It’s a long overdue lesson that I think will serve me well. And it is a relief not to lose my way because of disappointment.<br /><br />The book is not what they are looking for - What does that mean?<br /><br />Probably a number of things but the lack of comment leads me to conclude a few things.<br />Probably accurate to surmise: the writing did not wow -the book did not wow.<br />For me as a writer, the goal is to wow.<br /><br /><br />As tough as rejection is – I personally want to write the book that shines. The book that causes the agent and editor to pause and to be excited. To think automatically, this is good. <br /><br />I know I am not there yet. But with each rejection comes an opportunity for insight and to improve. Time to put this book aside for awhile. Later I may consider t submitting to others. On to a new project.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-61320708699237348582009-12-08T16:43:00.000-08:002009-12-08T16:46:22.619-08:00SurrenderShe hummed their anthem<br />braiding daisies in her hair.<br />In a heart too fragile and with resolute conviction,<br />she believed.<br /><br />There was a magical moment<br />before the drug induced euphoria,<br />distorted realities and extremist platitudes.<br />A short sweet peace, with little strength to endure.<br /><br />Once it was "Love Me Tender" and gyrating hips,<br />Beehives and Ducktails. Goldfish, telephone booths.<br />Now it was "All You Need Is Love" and The Pill.<br />Passive Resistance, Civil Rights and "Stop The War."<br />Many shook their heads in sad reveries, and unison<br />"This too shall Pass."<br /><br />The course was charted<br />and it is painful to look back-<br />to see how close, and yet<br />so great the distance to be traveled.<br /><br />The morning came, as they said it would.<br />A day no different from yesterday or tomorrow.<br />It was never decreed<br />a simple sadness that<br />has no end.<br />She took the daisies from her hair.<br /><br /><br />© 2009 Melissa Jackson Brister All Rights ReservedMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-12416606091998575242009-12-07T10:10:00.000-08:002009-12-07T17:04:25.710-08:00Contests that offer score sheetsI decided to enter a few contests at the urging of other writers. The primary benefit cited by the writers was the<font style="font-style: italic;"> feedback.</font>I had nice news yesterday. I placed in a RWA local chapter’s contest. My scores were lower than I hoped. <br /><br />I read the judges score sheets and comments several times. For me there is no doubt this will be beneficial. The scoring helps to gauge how I scored among the other contestants. The comments interjected throughout and/or at the end are instructive and worth their weight in gold. <br /><br />It is the kind of feedback an aspiring and sometimes lost writer craves. The feedback is concrete and specific. Some information I should have known but did not – don’t confuse an editor by using minor character's name- designate by their job or relation, i.e. bodyguard, sister etc. There were also several suggestions for mistakes or weakness such as: starting in the wrong place, lack of layering and dimension in one central character compared with effective treatment of the other character.<br /><br />The judges volunteer to read and comment. The local chapters organize and conduct the contest – all an investment of their time and energy. My limited experience has been terrific- a help in a way I most need-specific feedback even though all is subjective. But editors' decisions although determined by experience are also subjective. Thanks to those published writers, editors, aspiring writers, and groups who offer and judge contests. It’s another resource available to struggling writers.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-6077521756860237872009-12-04T13:39:00.000-08:002009-12-04T13:58:05.724-08:00The Gift of other Writers/ArtistsLost a day – I planned to post yesterday.<br />I meant to write but important to mundane things circumvented my course, my drive.<br />It’s now the day after tomorrow and this passage of time may help illustrate my topic, Why networking and writers/artists are important.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />The pattern:</span><br />As mentioned in a previous blog, I tend to be a loner and isolated.<br />I can entertain myself endlessly when I’m up or on a roll.<br />I have more interests than I can attend.<br />I get myopic, then full swing and I chastise myself for my silly pursuits and hobbies.<br />Sometimes I feel like I should apologize for these inclinations.<br />I do what’s before me to meet expectations and obligations, both real and self-imposed.<br />No matter how far I stray, eventually I come back to writing.<br />The problem is I lose my focus and my momentum.<br />Over the years writing has remained at the bottom of my list.<br />Until recently it was below doing the dishes and doing wash!<br />It is still below cooking dinner but happily that seems to be slipping this past year.<br /><br />Recently I have come to know and interact with a few other writers and artists.<br />So far my reaction is – Wow! – have I ever been missing out! <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Networking: A few important components:</span><br />There is an ongoing dialogue about writing.<br />Providing feedback on another writer or artist's work.<br />Feedback on your work.<br />Keeping directed on the goal with like focused individuals.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The gift of other writers/artists is important: What other writers know and give-</span><br />Yen and Yang –someone is hurting, doubting – someone else is there encouraging, celebrating that someone.<br />A belief in the same dream, <br />Understanding how it feels be thus afflicted.<br />Writers/artists don’t make you feel odd for being odd.<br />Writers/artists know when you need to be alone and when you don’t, no matter what you insist.<br />Writers/artists will tell you you’re getting too damn odd and snap out of it!<br />Writers/artists commiserate with you while you wait for the rejection and then get rejected.<br />Writers/artisits recognize the accomplishments even dinky ones. <br />Writers/artists celebrate the acceptance...being published. They know what it takes; they live it.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />The obvious benefits for writers/artists who connect:</span><br />Growth<br />Brainstorming<br />It’s easier to find hope when you do not always solo.<br /><br />I’ve been isolated for so long that I suspect my perceptions are slightly skewed.<br />I can’t accurately gauge where I stand on the weird meter.<br /><br />However, without my writer/artist friends I would be stuck in that dark place I know too well, again immobilized.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-54271391062869664542009-12-02T09:50:00.000-08:002009-12-02T10:15:15.222-08:00Rejection and is it possible I suck mega?Talk about ruining a writer’s morning – the arrival of another rejection. This particular rejection was whammied on another writer but my defenses went into overload along with my friend. Rejection unleashes a fierce and reflexive response. I’m working on disengaging the automatic trigger. For me, it is vital to learn how to handle rejection in a productive and understandable way as I continue to submit. <br /><br />Rejections are about as fun as flatulence in a quiet room. It feels like the world pauses, all eyes are riveted on you - you stand alone, a beacon of the uncouth and laughable. It’s embarrassing. Over the years I have received plenty of thanks but no thanks. A couple stand out because they were not form rejections. Today my focus is on a couple of poetry submissions. In the future I will share some memorable book rejections.<br /><br />Once an editor took a red pen and hand-wrote personal comments on my submission. He hated the poem and felt so strongly that he was compelled to underline key phrases. I suppose he thought I was of questionable intelligence and might miss the point. The gist of his words: I was a hack, a no talent. I was devastated. <br /><br />Not long after that, I received another poem graced with another editor’s hand-written rant. Basically, he advised me to stop being an idealist and get real. The dreaded words that he carefully printed in pencil (no red ink) were: Flowery and pretty, you've worn it out. To make sure I understood how juvenile the work was, he placed a happy face on the poem.. Talk about a bad few days and a counter productive response, we are talking brain farts of the first magnitude here. I was mortified. <br /><br />To me it was a clear and official message, YOU SUCK. I have a dear writer friend who having steeled herself as best she can against rejection, sings the “I suck song” as she travels down the harrowing road of submitting her work. I agree with her assertion, “Writing is not for sissies!” <br /><br />Several things occurred concurrently with the two editor’s rejections. <br />1-The handwritten comments from several other editors (one editor loved the same poem the editor red-inked) were positive and encouraging.<br /><br />2-The same two poems were liked enough by other editors to be bought. Granted, I think at the time it was $10 a poem but it was a validation.<br /> <br />3-Said maligned poems were published, appeared in print.<br /><br />However, the positive responses did not counter or balance my read of the rejections. Following the two handwritten rejections, I didn't write poetry for years and that morphed into less and less writing in general. I was hurt. Being sensitive, and in my cases as a young writer I was hyper- ultra – sensitive and shy to a ridiculous degree, did I mention I was shy? <br /><br />Now I’m mature and I'm only overly sensitive and neurotic. Happily the instances of blushing and being tongue-tied are far less frequent. I get lost in the flow of writing and forget personal barriers. What a relief and what fun!<br /><br />Posting my poetry and writing, as well as blogging is good for me,a form of stretching. I have been rewarded with some favorable responses and readers. Readers, the end goal- to write – to be read. I have gleaned a few things that apply to me about the process. <br /><br />For too long, I didn't have anyone outside of my family with whom to seek council and to exchange ideas, talk writing. My family has been incredibly supportive but face it, is the man you’re sleeping with going to tell you you’re a hopeless idealist or get real? Not if he’s smart. He will say something diplomatic and clever like, “Look you got a strong reaction at least your work moved the guy. He really hated that poem! That means your poetry works.”<br /><br />If you’re lucky family and friends recognize that you're doing something you love and they support you. If they think your work stinks, you'll probably never know.<br /><br />Both of our daughters write and one of our sons is beginning. The last two years I have enjoyed writer time with my family as writers. It has provided another direction. I attended the RWA conference in DC and in the midst of over 2,000 other writers I discovered the importance of other writers. <br /><br />Tomorrow – what I am discovering about networking and writing.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-61682754830834709262009-12-01T09:41:00.000-08:002009-12-01T10:19:29.223-08:00Getting unstuckIt's official, I'm stuck. The story has been in my head for several years. So far that's where most of it is staying. One strategy for moving past a block or a lull is to write something else. It's a means of freeing my brain. It can be a refreshing break especially when I find myself where I am now, running in place.<br /> <br />Start from scratch or return to something you have written and put aside. I am also interested in a young adult novel. My exercise is to write between 250 and 500 words about a youngster's walk to school. You can find prompts online at various writing sites including the Writer's Diget site. <a href="http://www.writersdigest.com/WritingPrompts/">http://www.writersdigest.com/WritingPrompts/</a><br /><br /> <br />The day was warm and golden as the sun glowed. This new morning sparkled and crackled. Everywhere she looked was warmth and life.<br /> <br />As the wind tousled her hair she knew it was a dinosaur wind, a wind that had blown a million years before perhaps across the flanks of a triceratops or brontosaurs, or maybe a marauding T-Rex. She ran, soaring, flying over the ground as her feet scarcely touched the ground. After all, she was nearly as fast as the wind itself, as light as air. Sometimes she ran faster than the wind and in those moments she became invisible, there was nothing she could not conquer.<br /> <br />Each morning the same magic awaited, the sun warmed her, the wind carried her setting her adrift in a universe of unlimited potential. The morning routine possessed a momentum of its own and then abruptly she would find herself staring at the sullen brick of Grady Elementary.<br /> <br />The building seemed amiss among the swaying pines and the swirling Texas wind. The school looked as though it had clawed its way up from the bowels of the earth and she swore most times it smelled like it. In her deepest reservoir of wishes she wished the earth would suddenly open and swallow the hideous place that demanded her attendance and precipitously snatched her form her world. <br /><br />It wasn't that she disliked school, she was ambivalent at best. It was an aspect of existence over which she had no control, much like her cowlick. Much to her grandmother’s alarm, no amount of hair product tamed her dark wavy hair. Hair that her mother cut short with little regard to style or symmetry. <br /> <br />Just as she learned to accept the strands of hair that defied gravity, she accepted school. Early on she grasped that sometimes the best way to resolve a problem was to minimize its impact. She participated, made good grades, and was repeatedly patted on her cowlick by approving adults. Then sighing, the ever vigilant adults turned dour expressions to the problem children. <br /> <br />Her parents placed undue significance on her performance. Clearly they never understood her motivations. If they had they would not have strutted like vain peacocks waving the straight A reports cards as a testament to their superior parenting.<br /> <br />There was no honor involved but survival and sanity-it kept adults at a tolerable distance. Adults most outstanding and unifying characteristic was the ability to kill the magic that abounded, if one would look, move, breathe, the magic was everywhere.<br /> <br />"Good morning Maddie," Mrs. Grayson smiled at each child as he or she entered the room. Maddie called them graded smiles, each child began their day with the appropriate Mrs. Grayson brand. Maddie was greeted with her "A" smile while Dwight received the "C" smile. Susie and Danny were "D" smiles. <br /><br />Mrs. Grayson barely kept the wrinkled corners of her mouth from turning downward when those two entered. If Mattie was very still she felt Mrs. Grayson's disapproval moving from her withered lips across the room like a cold wrinkled hand shaking the two children ever so slightly. More than once she knew Susie and Danny felt her palpable condemnation as she watched them both suddenly shiver before taking their seats. <br /><br /><br />I'll let you know if the exercise helps me to get back on track.<br />Until later -Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-78231320767275319492009-11-30T09:48:00.000-08:002009-11-30T12:04:37.563-08:00Five Minutes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUX6IBTy81F2qViGi-PiMC6OsVjWHJUgM7D-JFtl_zsbO171c-D3e22vSY6xTVUMLXLH6pZdPiXY_3nrWUnOEelsXHm22lzDS_b7Bk4BrMzWfNdGImXabf213cLEBzg5AQ7nKNitTLond/s1600/caution.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 139px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUX6IBTy81F2qViGi-PiMC6OsVjWHJUgM7D-JFtl_zsbO171c-D3e22vSY6xTVUMLXLH6pZdPiXY_3nrWUnOEelsXHm22lzDS_b7Bk4BrMzWfNdGImXabf213cLEBzg5AQ7nKNitTLond/s200/caution.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409971203727604802" /></a><br />It is not unusual at this time of year to contemplate gratitude. Much has been written about developing an attitude of gratitude and the benefits. It seems the more we practice something, the more we become convinced. This cuts both ways. Insecure artists, which I think are the majority and not the exception, know where I am going with this.<br /> <br />This Thanksgiving I hobbled around on an aching knee that limited my mobility. By Friday after the usual holiday cooking marathon Wednesday and Thursday, I hurt and I was not feeling great.<br /><br />However, I ended up having a laid-back holiday in spite of the discomfort. <br />I did a lot of reading and pondering, two favorites that often are on the bottom of my list.<br /><br />After two days of grape seed, ice packs, ibuprofen and msm/glucosomine/chondroitin …much better today. I love Mondays...new week...new beginning. <br /><br />I was planning the <span style="font-style:italic;">have to do this week</span> vs. <span style="font-style:italic;">can be put off</span> which led me to wonder when I would get back to my walks. When would I ever be healthy and fit again…and it went on from there. I miss my walks, the new neighborhood has failed to engage me. Now I am between the Gulf of Mexico and the Grand Lagoon, my lack of interest has to be about me, not the place.<br /> <br />I hobbled a bit, did a few stretches and put on my walking shoes, grabbed my camera and decided – I was going to shift my focus, take a different path even if all I managed was five minutes. <br /><br />Doing and not doing are decisions, each weighty and with consequences. Beliefs, fears, and doubts can be appropriate but must lead to change, new insights, some type of cognition and growth. Even if you decide to never, ever do that particular thing again. <br /><br />If no change comes then these thoughts are traps. Looking at the big picture may be daunting... go for <span style="font-style:italic;">small victories</span>. Take five minutes…listen to music, listen to the quiet, doodle, practice deep breathing, write a sentence of your novel...get up and move. Reinvest in your dreams and aspirations. Recognize failures for what they are – the result of effort and direction, energy invested, and it provides experience and opportunities to succeed. <br /><br />I arrived at the launching dock to meet the caution sign and it was correct. The dock was shaky and shifted as I walked out. And what I wanted, the lagoon, was just beyond. I wobbled and shot some pictures and then sat. The pictures are not what I imagined in my mind but I will try again with another camera...another day...in one of those Take Five times. <br /><br />Try replacing one negative and/or doubt with something new. Come on you have plenty of other downer thoughts, relinquish just one. I use, <blockquote>I am a writer on the road to being published. It's exciting and I am going for it.</blockquote><br />You are welcome to try it.<br /><br />Of course I’m listening to Dave Brubeck’s <span style="font-style:italic;">Take Five</span> as I write.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-79897712781954716892009-11-24T22:48:00.000-08:002009-11-24T22:49:42.468-08:00MemoriesRemembering<br />brings me <br />closer.<br />And reminds me,<br />I may never<br />find you.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-22762255136670249712009-11-23T09:19:00.000-08:002009-11-23T09:36:23.435-08:00Please remind meAs I posted on Facebook - Because the looming deadline to submit a partial to the agency was not stressful enough AND I am obviously unhinged- I have been rewriting/editing/reworking the damnable pages.<br /><br />Been a marathon 36 hours or so.<br />I have never been happy with Chapter Two and various passages throughout.<br /><br />The passages to me were almost there but not quite. Not good enough.<br />Seemed to throw the flow off.<br /><br />Chopped 6500 words.- more pleased with the work now.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Additonal Thoughts:</span> Sometime later today or early Tuesday morning, the final rewrite will be finished. Then I will upload the partial to the literary agent’s site. This is the agency I sincerely hope will eventually accept me as client. The agency represents a range of books including literary fiction, young adult and paranormal, all of which I am interested in writing.<br /><br />I am finally at peace with the submission. This is the first time I have felt like this about any book I have written. I can read it without stumbling over cadence or questioning word choice or POV. It is as seamless and polished as I can manage. It has been an evolving work for more than a year. <br /><br />As I was editing and rewriting for the umpteenth time, I wondered how many hours were invested in this project. A lot – that's all I know. But it’s been interesting. I learn more with each edit and revision. <br /><br />I’ve been studying the market, reading agents, editors, and publishing house blogs. It’s grim out there. Although romantic fiction continues to survive, the competition is fierce. Shelf space and shelf life are tough to come by but not impossible. <br /><br />I am not sure I have one voice which has troubled me. Then I realized I write like I paint- all over the place- in different voices- different schools and hopefully I will develop a truly unique style. But like my work, I am a work in progress. I am finally smart enough to see how far I have come and to understand “making it” is a state that occurs in many different ways. <br /><br />When I first decided to approach an agent I was somewhat ambivalent about the novel. Now I feel and think differently. It takes a lot to offer your work to an objective and business-minded world.<br /><br />Success or failure are intimidating options. Every writer dreams of hitting with their submission. That acknowledged, I am a dreamer by choice, by design, but I am also capable of being a cold-hearted realist. Published authors with a track record are being turned down; it is a tough market. <br /><br />My realistic goal is to have the partial read and make an impression. To have the agency acknowledge I have talent and ask to see more of my work and at some point I will make it.<br /><br />I am happy to be at this place. And I have far to go and no guarantees.<br />But it is the journey as they say. Please remind me of my goal when I get the blues.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-59071484605679878912009-11-20T08:42:00.000-08:002009-11-20T08:49:19.389-08:00someday i will untie myselfWhat a surprise to find this and a pleasure to read.<br />A comment following <span style="font-style:italic;">In A Day Gone</span> posted by Hetro<br /><br />someday i will untie myself<br />from this rock, love of you,<br />and i will no longer be lashed<br /><br />i will rise through the water<br />no longer dropping down<br />seeing the sun translated through ripples<br /><br />as i am bourne skyward<br />i will feel the nearing warmth<br />gravity reversing its hold to propel me home<br /><br />and when i break the surface<br />the question will be answered:<br />can i breathe the air of the new day?<br /><br />or have i grown gills<br />and now belong to the depths<br />tied to this rock, love of you<br /><br /><br />My thoughts - Good imagery and mood in this - <br />seeing the sun translated through ripples<br />gravity reversing its hold to propel me home<br /><br />I particularly like the ideas and feel of Stanza 4 and <br />The use of gills and depths in the final stanza is stark and perfect. <br /><br /><br />Only suggestions I have are minor –<br /> in stanza one- <br />delete love of you,and maybe change lashed to bound<br />to read <br /><br />someday i will untie myself<br />from this rock<br />and i will no longer be bound<br /><br />Last stanza<br />delete rock <br />and flip now and belong<br />to read<br /><br />or have i grown gills<br />and belong now to the depths<br />tied to this love of you<br /><br />This is one of the aspects I love about poetry – the range of voices, emotions, and interpretations.<br />BTW feel free to critique my work. I hope the blog will become a place to discuss and share writing. Thank you Hetro.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-67697651051922465152009-11-19T08:11:00.000-08:002009-11-19T11:07:14.785-08:00A road map from Mahatma GandhiIn college I met a student pursuing a degree in journalism. Through several conversations I learned she was an avid reader and her passion was to be a writer. At some point I asked to read her work. She told me she didn’t do a lot of writing but did do a lot of thinking about it. She shared a paper awarded high marks and considerable praise by a professor. <br /><br />Several things struck me. At this time I was pretty nomadic. I had few possessions – my cats, my paints, and several boxes crammed with writing. I could easily move – except the piano that I still have not learned to play. Does <span style="font-style:italic;">Jingle Bells</span> and the first stanza of <span style="font-style:italic;">Across the Universe</span> (painfully slow) count? A story for another day. I did not think of myself as a writer. Writing was something I did. I couldn’t <span style="font-style:italic;">Not </span>write.<br /><br /> I think often about how we define ourselves and by extension our lives. To my way of thinking, she was and is by definition a writer. I too, have spent considerable time ruminating before I get the words to paper. However, as a writer if publishing is the endgame then you must write. I hope that for most writers to be read is the goal, to share, to contribute somehow. For me at least hence and now, it is the reward - the reason I write. There is joy in writing. I get high when I am writing…and I can go through ridiculous lows when I am not. Still working on that. <br /><br />Mahatma Gandhi words: <br />Your beliefs become your thoughts<br />Your thoughts become your words<br />Your words become your actions<br />Your actions become your habits<br />Your habits become your values<br />Your values become your destiny.<br /><br />In applying this to writing, I acknowledge his application was intended as a philosophical and practical application for living one’s life. In using it in writing be warned – it may become a part of your philosophy. Whoopee!<br /><br />As a writer. I pay special attention to: <br />Your actions become your habits<br />Your habits become your values<br />Your values become your destiny.<br /><br />Write in your heart, your mind, and believe. If you think you are a writer, you are. Writers write- basic rule. Seems simple but it has taken years for me to move that privilege, that necessity, to the top of my gianormous <span style="font-weight:bold;">To Do</span> list. Enjoy learning. It is wonderful to see how far I have come – I can read earlier attempts without laughing hysterically or dying a tiny death from embarrassment.<br /><br />Take the initiative, make writing a habit. Value the act. Be an active participant in your destiny.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-53009394838051159382009-11-18T17:46:00.000-08:002009-11-18T17:48:26.108-08:00In a Day GoneIn a day gone<br />I am found wandering.<br />Darkest day to the darker night,<br />Silence calls, a sweet summons.<br /><br />There is a gentleness<br />That is you<br />Just beyond my touch.<br /><br />You are close<br />In a sigh<br />In a dream.<br />I am found wandering.<br /><br />Time that you were mine, complete.<br />And when you are gone<br />All too soon.<br />There will be a place,<br />No one can travel.<br /><br />I was here,<br />Only to be me,<br />To be you.<br /><br />Where is it dreams go?<br />That we begin,<br />That we end?Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-57087977329259895332009-11-17T17:00:00.000-08:002009-11-19T09:54:12.456-08:00November 17As I posted on FB…this day is tethered to my heart – an emotional yo-yo. What a day it has been. Test results for my husband came back better than expected. Huge relief. Much good on this day, some reflections. Author Bruce Lipton tells a story in the intro to his book, <span style="font-style:italic;">The Biology Of Belief</span>, how as a young boy his first encounter with a microscope set his life course in a profound way. I was thinking about how we are impacted by design and accident and the way our lives unfold. It can be a microscope or fairly predictable and clichéd – live by the sword, die by the sword. But for many it is not that direct, more gray and ill-defined.<br /><br />I consider myself intuitive and emotional then logical, in that order. Perhaps the most important concept I have grasped in a long time is the idea of fluidity versus stasis. As a long time observer of people, one of the things I noticed is how easily we conform to unspoken yet rigid societal definitions. As we age, we fall into step even more- our physical limitations reinforce our roles. I have witnessed too many begin down the path of aging in their late thirties. With each decade they slip more into the realm of believing their time is passing or past. Too many are defeated before they begin.<br /><br />I have been shy for as long as I can remember. Somedays I hide it better than other days. I love people, don’t like crowds. I prefer to relate one-on-one or in small groups. Learned early on it was: unladylike to talk about one’s accomplishments, needs, disappointments; bad manners to be assertive; and unforgivable to be angry. I learned my lessons well. But being intuitive and emotional by nature, occasionally my heart spoke. That’s a story unto itself. <br /><br />I’ve spent some time learning to navigate between assertive and aggressive and working on typical anger issues that come with gender stereotyping. With great trepidation, I am putting myself out there. Reaching out to people, networking, hanging out, opening up. Taking risks. Or actions perceived as risky by me, i.e. Trusting someone with my thoughts, emotions, at the risk of rejection, ridicule, or being misunderstood etc. And believing in myself as much as I believe in other people’s efforts. <br /><br />The benefits have been a day like today - An invitation from the literary agency I consider top notch. My realistic hope is that they see something in my work that persuades them to ask to see what I continue to write. Several people reading my work and liking it and telling me. Some awesome communications from a friend who wanted to talk about the work! Yikes! An offer to possibly collaborate on a project – very exciting. A call from one of my favorite artists to tell me good changes were coming. My great writer friend Jeanie and my wonderful daughters have offered the deadline crunch read. And my very dear friend Melinda has signed to follow my blog. I got tears in my eyes - my first and only follower! So glad I have been stretching…what lovely days ahead.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-63262128365765623612009-11-16T09:07:00.000-08:002009-11-19T10:00:56.090-08:00The Great Spirit and Romance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkIz7-StypcIz7pdJj_sC72DL9j0sa5-VXFB8UemeNyr5ZZNicMWr34VH1AjGhzZHSzVFH6oS0KFoMz_EOEX9a-xpksxfR30u49KBSHZZg0neY17g5dabLo1jQS9kVcHdkGrhNRlZSXxK/s1600/indian-girl.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 195px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkIz7-StypcIz7pdJj_sC72DL9j0sa5-VXFB8UemeNyr5ZZNicMWr34VH1AjGhzZHSzVFH6oS0KFoMz_EOEX9a-xpksxfR30u49KBSHZZg0neY17g5dabLo1jQS9kVcHdkGrhNRlZSXxK/s200/indian-girl.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404765149558827842" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9ryOroQQZVRZeIAG4PWJDpfR7ik6QI3qPA5wA-MdjEB4w_T8i4HSK-NbrPyld-bovs7gu1MFIpVQ0jWnHVYa_LSEsQwstBop5SOw6pIW434pAedfwjht0gq5G0OKJTZ0OTJUmDtqvd9i/s1600/dalton_boys.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9ryOroQQZVRZeIAG4PWJDpfR7ik6QI3qPA5wA-MdjEB4w_T8i4HSK-NbrPyld-bovs7gu1MFIpVQ0jWnHVYa_LSEsQwstBop5SOw6pIW434pAedfwjht0gq5G0OKJTZ0OTJUmDtqvd9i/s200/dalton_boys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404765088942571890" /></a><br />As a young girl I was devoted to the Lone Ranger and believed that Tonto was the best friend anyone could have. Through movies and television came a cultural stereotyping including the cowboy hero as well as the American Indian. I went on to fall in love with every cowboy and rare Indian heroes presented in Wagon Train, Rawhide, Have Gun Will Travel, Bonanza, and western movies. <br /><br />I spent a good deal of my time playing cowboys and Indians. When I wasn’t Bell Starr, I was an Indian. I lived in my Indian outfit. My Aunt Ruth made Indian outfits for her four sons, the Dalton Boys (yes, really) and for me and my Aunt Brenda, who was my age. The first photo is me playing with my dollhouse. The second picture is David and Odell in the cowboy outfits Aunt Ruth made them.<br /><br />I was captivated by the Great Spirit and the American Indians. I think playtime led to my first pondering about the meaning of life. The Great Spirit was magical and there were times when I wished fervently that spirit could hear me. The Great Spirit never seemed any more astounding to me than Christianity or later Buddhism. Conceptually the manner in which the Indians’ religion was presented seemed more real even though magical. I suppose this was because of the cohesiveness of the message. The reverence for all things, animals, and nature and that in taking life one must acknowledge the gift, the debt, and the belief that this all had meaning. <br /><br />Years ago my family rented <span style="font-style:italic;">The Last of the Mohicans</span> which is now one of my favorite movies. However, I did not want to watch it and only acquiesced because the popcorn smelled really good. Through my readings I had come to disdain the violence and the suffering inflicted by both sides as history took its toll. As a matter of personal choice I usually avoid violent movies. I find it difficult to watch and hear. <br /><br />I fell in love with the movie, the music. Then, I read the book – I liked the movie much more because of the love story and the changes in the storyline. It took me awhile to figure out why I loved the movie. The hero Hawkeye does many things but primarily he spends the entire movie rescuing Cora and Uncas is compelling as well. These guys are strong, valiant, and sensitive – I was hooked. <br /><br />Was I surprised! I consider myself a modern woman and I was a goner! What was going on? Admittedly, Cora is no faint lass but this is the stuff of fantasies. A gorgeous, half naked, long-haired, strong Indian carrying my willing self off into the night. It’s the lure of magic/mysticism. After great sex (is there any doubt?) there is the magic - the deep and thoughtful hero whose love is made more intense by his beliefs, who is bound to everything in a profound and intense way. It was the merging of my very young days, the adolescent and adult life all mixed up emotionally, intellectually, and culturally, and I am enjoying it.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-76667742444119038282009-11-14T22:29:00.000-08:002009-11-14T22:39:04.461-08:00my tiny eureka momentIn <font style="font-style: italic;">Eureka! Scientific Breakthroughs that Changed the World</font>, author Leslie Alan Horvitz, posits that sudden insight may come as a part of the process of study and thought, not directly but indirectly. Be it as varied as Charles Townes’ laser technology or Alfred Wegener's Theory of the Continental Drift, she describes the Eureka moment as a "sudden flash of light." Only a few chapters into her book what interests me is her discussion of the creative process (I believe is innate in all people, but is certainly more heightened in some). She describes a steadfast belief that they were on the right track no matter how elusive the solutions. That certainty intrigues me. Ideas and concepts in the abstract lead to the concrete but what happens along that road? How is the brain wired, what is thought and reason and emotion – and is there connectivity between others?<br /><br />It occurred to me that Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience </span>speaks to this as does an entire section of books on my shelves. It dawned on me how long I have been searching and moving in this direction. My little, tiny, Eureka moment was twofold – I am not alone in this – and perhaps there is a palpable connection between us, a connection that is communicated and heightened in creative pursuits. The sense of knowing that I find most complete and satisfying is when logic and emotions merge.<br /><br />I read back and forth between books and added <span style="font-style:italic;">Flow</span> to the current reads. And in this flow of things it is no surprise that <span style="font-style: italic;">The Biology of Belief</span> by Bruce Lipton is in the stack. Hmmm… Listening this evening to <span style="font-weight: bold;">Celtic Requiem</span>. This night finds me between the lagoon and the Gulf - a good place.Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8087052685974336063.post-54667394169006050942009-11-13T08:42:00.000-08:002009-11-18T18:01:31.701-08:00beginnings and routines<font size="2">Changes can be unsettling but the challenge and promise of change is exciting. 2009 brought plenty of changes. Now I am in the little house, still unpacking and sorting. There are treasures I carry no matter where I go, both material and abstract. I am in my new home with my prints, electronics, photographs, robots, plants, cats, family, my words, books, paints, purple paraphernalia and dreams.<br /><br />Looking at my van Gogh print of Starry Night is one of my comforts no matter where I live. I am reminded what my brother Skip once said about the painting, "It is what the stars look like through tears." A resident memory - one of many good conversations thru the years about art and writing.<br /><br />I have finally begun physically writing the paranormal story I have been writing in my head for several years. I am beyond fortunate to have the opportunity to pursue my dreams and hooray - the chase is on again...feels like home.<br /><br />Current reading list <span style="font-style:italic;">The Biology of Belief</span>, <span style="font-style:italic;">Eureka! - Scientific Breakthroughs that Changed the World</span>, and <span style="font-style:italic;">In the Spirit of Mother Earth - Nature in Native American Art</span>. Listening to Etta James - <span style="font-style:italic;">Time after Time</span>.</font><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"></span>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07408778723708614953noreply@blogger.com0