allison writes

Baking and Breaking Bread

2013-05-21T06:04:00.000-05:00

Today's post was going to be about motivation - my lack of. I'm embarrassed to say how long it's been since I've written anything down, much less completed a piece. But I woke up early yesterday morning to bake bread, made a bunch of progress on a major task at work, came home to mow and edge my lawn and trim my hedges. So that post about not writing might still come, but motivation? I got that.

I made starter from the recipe both grandmothers and my mom used for years.

Fed it, mixed in all the other ingredients, and let it rise.

I divided it into three slightly lumpy loaves

And peeked in at the halfway point to see how much they'd risen.

The finished product.

I didn't make it look like a butt on purpose, I just couldn't take pictures of all three loaves because…

I'd already devoured half of it.

Blips of Life: Settling In

2013-05-14T05:46:00.000-05:00

I feel like I haven't been "into" my blog recently. I went from posting twice a week to once a week, and sometimes even forget that until the night before. I don't want to stop, but I need to figure out what to share here. I don't want to get too personal, and I don't want to post things I might try to submit elsewhere. So bear with me while I find my footing.

In the meantime, this edition of Blips is short and sweet. Life lately has been a lot of adjusting - to the new house and the yardwork that comes along with it, and also to a new job I'm head over heels in love with.

Delightfully creepy fog early one morning // Obsessed with the way sunlight pours into my house // Housewarming daffodils // Still not sure what kind of sushi that was…

I made a lamp from a Mangria bottle I emptied a few months ago. The bottom broke off (in one piece, thankfully) while drilling the hole, but hot glue and ribbon fixed it, and now it stands proudly on my desk.
A test hole was drilled in a beer bottle (from the brewery Kelly and I visited in Coronado), and it turned out to be big enough to accommodate the cord, so I made another lamp!
Two lamps standing proudly, and I only suffered a minor glass cut
and jolting electric shock! Not too shabby.
Last but not least, after a year and a half of sleeping on an air mattress on the floor, I got a bed! Not just any bed - my FIRST new bed! I've always lived with hand-me-downs, but now that I have my own house, I've bought a new couch and a new bed. It's almost like I'm trying to think about becoming an adult or something.

Between the Covers

2013-05-07T05:49:00.000-05:00

I've been lucky to always love reading and have access to books - I'd check out stacks from the library, get them as gifts. When I graduated from picture books to chapter books, I started collections of the Babysitters' Club and Goosebumps. Paperbacks lined my shelves, spines so creased you could hardly read the titles.

I broke the spines of books I owned while I was reading; I dog-eared pages to keep my place or to make note of a sentence I particularly liked. It didn't seem to matter when you had over fifty thin paperbacks on your shelves, books that belong to you and would be read and re-read by you alone. You'd think, loving books as I do, that I would treat them as if they were holy. But I used and abused them. That's not to say I'm careless - aside from the one time I left a library book in the rain when I was eight (and cried over for hours), I've never lost or ruined a book.

On my eleventh birthday, I asked for a book I'd already read several times, checked out from both the school and public libraries whenever it was available. My parents must have taken note of how much I liked the book, because when it came time to get a copy of my own, they bought me a hardback. A beautiful, pristine hardback. I'm not sure if it was my first, but it's the first I remember. I carefully wrote my name and the date in the corner of the front page and took it to my room. This is a turning point, I told myself. I'm going to treat this book like it's precious, I'm going to treat all books like they're precious.

I found a spot for it on the top shelf, pushed the worn paperbacks to the side so I could slide in my newest gift. I met a little resistance, thought the shelf was too full, pushed a bit harder. I heard a faint rip. My heart sank and I pulled the book back out.

There was a cut across one word of the title. I stuck my hand against the side of the shelf and found a nail, just barely peeking through the wood.

The book wasn't ruined, not by far, especially not when you consider how I treated my paperbacks. The dust jacket had a superficial scratch, not reaching the hardback cover itself. The cover design was graffiti on a brick wall, so one could even argue that the tear fit right in. But I couldn't see any of that; I felt sick to my stomach.

I got over it, of course. I read the book several times before moving on to other books, new books, so many books. It's remained one of my favorites, and when I recently took it from the shelf to re-read, I felt the scratch and everything returned to my mind, crystal clear. And I realized that could be part of the reason I've never liked hardbacks. They're so expensive, first off, and bulky to hold, especially when you carry books with you anywhere and everywhere. The dust jacket is brilliant for keeping your place, but when you're reading, it flops around and loosens your grip.

I don't abuse paperbacks (as much) anymore; I've stopped dog-earing and started using bookmarks, I keep a scrap of paper nearby to write down page numbers of my favorite sentences. But, if given a choice, I prefer used paperbacks. Handed down, with notes and marks and folds from others, they make me feel less guilty if I toss them around a bit myself. After all, the story is still intact, and that's all that matters.

April Books

2013-04-30T05:40:00.000-05:00

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris. Originally read and reviewed 12/17/11. Re-read in continued excitement to see Sedaris speak on 4/20. I don't think I liked this book as much as his others the first time I read it, but this time I really enjoyed it. So much of it was humorous, and I really studied how he structured his essays and made the ones seemingly about nothing into real stories.

Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris. I know I read this back in December '11 when I devoured the rest of his books, but I didn't review it for some reason. I think the first time I read this, I expected essays and was disappointed by stories. I still love his essays more, but this time I was really able to appreciate his ridiculous stories and imagine how he thought them up. It's funny - I think his over-the-top characterizations of people in general and "good Christians" in particular are more honest than much of the fiction I've read.

Barrel Fever by David Sedaris. Previously read and reviewed 12/4/11. A collection of stories and essays. The stories are off the wall and it's fun to read them and imagine how Sedaris came up with the premises. I liked this collection a lot more this time around, knowing more about his style and writings, than I did the first time, when it was one of the first Sedaris books I read.

Amity and Sorrow by Peggy Riley. Amaranth flees a cult she has belonged to for years, taking her two daughters, Amity and Sorrow, with her. Left to burn in a fire started by the Father himself are forty-nine other wives and their children. Amaranth is constantly worried that her husband will come after her and the girls, even as she settles into a life she never would have expected for herself. Amity is content to start a new life with her mother, but Sorrow is determined to go back to the cult's temple - even if there is nothing left there. There is a constant struggle between the women doing what they can to save themselves, versus what they were raised to think is right and wrong from the cult. The story is told interspersed with chapters of backstory, letting the reader see how the cult functioned before it was ruined. This book reads like a classic required in an English class - and I mean that in the best way possible. It is accessible, interesting, and darkly gothic, while being easy and entertaining to read.

Exploiting My Baby by Teresa Strasser. I'm not a mother, not pregnant, and do not particularly plan to have children. I didn't listen to the Adam Carolla Show while Teresa was his newsgirl. Still, I felt like she had to be funny to have been Carolla's sidekick, so I picked up this book when I saw it. Despite not identifying with Teresa's need to have a child, I was drawn into this book. It was funny and self-deprecating and honest. She talks about the issues she had with her own mother, and how much she worried about turning out like her. Hell, how much she worried about everything. She talks about the uncertainties of procreating, and then all the stress that comes along with it, things you don't think about until you're too far in to turn back. Some sentences had me chuckling, then the next could bring it back to the emotional brink, especially at the end, with her birth story and how it changed her relationship with her mother.

Power Screenwriting: The 12 Stages of Story Development by Michael Chase Walker. A great book about developing a story before turning it into a script. There was tons of advice on how to frame a story, one of my favorites being the simple 1st Act/2nd Act/3rd Act, ex: Obsessive love/leads to/murder. I think that's an effective way to sum up what you're writing, whether it's fiction, an essay, a script, and build from there. The author establishes his credentials in the opening pages of the book, and uses a lot of movie references to help showcase what he's demonstrating with each piece of advice.

In Search of Eden by Linda Nichols. While this book may seem dauntingly long when you take it at apace value, the story immediately sucks you in and makes you want to read it quickly to know the whole story. The Christian element seemed a bit heavy-handed at times, but didn't impact my overall enjoyment of the book because the characters are so well-written, you want to know all about their lives.

Drunk Tank Pink by Adam Alter. A super-interesting compilation of a bunch of studies done throughout the years, mostly having to do with how colors, weather, and other factors influence people emotionally, mentally, and socially. Once you read it, I definitely think you'll start noticing tiny little things in daily life, and realizing how deeply they actually affect you.

An Evening with David Sedaris

2013-04-23T06:32:00.000-05:00

I always think that people who like the same things I like will be similar to me in many other ways. I am quite frequently wrong. See: the crowd around me during an Evening with David Sedaris.

I always think that people who create the things I like will be similar to me in many other ways. I am quite frequently right. See: David Sedaris during an Evening with David Sedaris.

There was really nothing wrong with the event. It was in a nice theater on a quiet college campus on a cool spring evening. The ticket had been given to me as a gift and it was not the kind of event that required you to mill around, so if you were alone, no one really noticed. You went in, found your seat, and waited patiently.

Beside me were parents and their teenage daughter, who was reading Naked while the auditorium lights were still on. I was content with this, because there is no quieter activity than reading, and the family had dark hair so I looked like I belonged. (I'm ok with going places alone, I really am.) After a few moments of peace, during which I stared off into space like Puddy, the teenager reads a sentence aloud to her mother. No problem! I enjoy sharing particularly pleasant sentences, as well. Except the mother doesn't hear her, so the daughter re-reads the line. They do not comment about the statement, nor laugh. I gaze into the distance once more, but am soon interrupted by another recitation. None of the lines the daughter read were especially funny or beautifully-worded, and neither she nor her mother ever laughed or gave commentary on what had been read.

David Sedaris took the stage, the cutest petite man I have ever seen, looking dapper in a pink button-down, gray slacks, and ankle boots, which I only noticed because he often balanced on the sides of his feet while reading. He charmed the audience with a story of his journey to our city, of swimming at the downtown Y, and the proceeded to read a few essays. These were followed by a monologue, some poems, and some diary entries. The diary entries were often funny things told to him by friends or people who attended his readings. These diary entries often contained vulgar language, which I thought nothing of because I've heard it all, and assumed everyone around me thought nothing of because they read Sedaris.

Until the jokes about oral sex. These jokes flummoxed the teenage girl to my right, which made me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside, that she could be older than twelve and not understand a joke about sperm banks. And then there was the one with the c-word as the punch line, which neither she nor her mother understood, making me laugh a little longer than necessary just to ensure they would not ask me to explain.

After taking some audience questions, Sedaris went to a signing room and everyone (well, almost everyone) lined up. I was amazed that, despite being in the front of the theater and therefore far from the exit, there were only about fifty people in line ahead of me. I was content to wait as long as it took because it was a Saturday night, and what else was I going to do?

Unfortunately, the people behind me were not as easy-going. The girl must have been about my age, and had one of those voices I automatically associate with people who love liter-ahhh-toor.
     "We've been here forEVer," she complained to her boyfriend and anyone within a fifty foot radius. "Those people are talking to him for, like, minutes."
     I have this problem where I'm incredibly awkward in most social situations, which is greatly magnified when the person I'm talking to is anyone remotely famous and/or intelligent. This means I had been rehearsing what I might say to Sedaris for a good three weeks, and had rejected every option that came to mind. Still, I had paid for (well, someone had paid for and given me) a ticket to this event, and no matter how painful it was, I was determined to talk to Sedaris for, like, minutes. Plus, she was totally the type of person who you know would talk to him for even longer, yet see no problem with it. So I let her nasal utterance roll off my back, resumed my Puddy stance, and waited.

Then her boyfriend got vocal. "You have that one," he stated about the book cover being projected on the wall behind Sedaris' table. "Yeah," she agreed, "that was the first one I read." He said this again about ten minutes later, about a different book cover. "I have it, but I haven't finished it yet. It's so long!"
     Once that charming conversation died down, the boyfriend would randomly say "Move along, son," in what I assume was an impersonation of a character I do not know. Ok, maybe some of the people are taking up too many, like, minutes, but does repeating the same dumb phrase in the same dumb voice help anything?

Add to all of this the fact that I am standing alone in a sea of couples (save the teenager and her parents) where the man is constantly brushing back his lady's hair and kissing her forehead or her nose while she inspects her nails and tells him "This color is called seashell." I'm trying to stay cool because I wanted to come to this event and I'm here and I don't know these people and will never have to see them again, but really? Men do that?! And still feel ok with themselves? I feel like a puss brushing my OWN hair back off my forehead.

But I digress. And right in time, because I'm next to speak to David Sedaris. With the distracting public in line all around me, I still hadn't been able to come up with a suitable conversation topic, so I decided to wing it.
     "Hi!" David Sedaris said, waving me forward.
     "That looks delicious," I say, gesturing towards the styrofoam containers holding the remains of his dinner.
     "I don't even know what it is," he says, cramming in a bite of crumbly mess. "I'm going to put this whole thing in my mouth." He spears a deviled egg and does exactly as he warned. When he closes the tiny box, it reads "Deviled Egg" on top.
     "Maybe the other box is labeled, too," I offer helpfully. Sedaris rearranges his utensils to close the box, which says "Chicken" on the lid. "Chicken..." I say dubiously.
     "But what were the crumbles?" Sedaris asks.
     "Crackers?"
     "They tasted like Ritz," he agrees, but neither of us seem satisfied with that.

We talk a bit more about other things, then he asks me who I came with.
     "Myself," I say, gesturing at the empty space around me.
     "I love when people come to readings alone! Wait, I have something for you." He picks up a cloth bag from the floor and shuffles through. I see the books and papers he read from earlier. His closed fist emerges triumphantly, and he shoves it across the table. "Here!"
     His fingers unfold slowly. "It's a bottle of moisturizer from my hotel," he explains needlessly.
     "Is this a pity prize?" I ask, pretending to be incredulous while laughing inside: David Sedaris just gave me a tube of lotion.
     He waggles his eyebrows in response.
     "This is going to make my night so much better," I say, and he is still laughing as I say goodbye and walk away.

Why Write?

2013-04-16T06:12:00.000-05:00

Victoria left a comment on Script Frenzy that I felt deserved its own post:
     'Good luck with the script! I would love to hear you talk (er, write) sometime about
     how you motivate yourself to write things that are not necessarily good, or shop-able,
     or "masterpieces." Intellectually I know that all writing is good practice, but how do
     you enforce that in yourself?'

As hokey as it may sound, writing is a part of me. I've been making up stories for as long as I can remember: playing imagination games by myself when I was a kid; scribbling in "cursive" like I saw my dad do when I could hardly print my own name; and finally writing down stories in marbled notebooks until I lost interest and wanted to start fresh. I did all of that for me, because I wanted to. Besides the "book" we were required to write each year in elementary school, no one read any of my stories until I was a creative writing major in college. But I still wrote, and I still loved doing it.

It's strange I functioned that way, because my dream from a very early age was to be a writer. For a long time, I had no idea how that happened. I assumed people just knew you were a writer, and offered to publish your books. I didn't learn about how agents and publishing houses and submissions worked until… again, probably when I was a creative writing major. I just never thought about it - writing was something I did for myself, even if I wanted others to eventually read my work.

Once I started really pushing myself to write, I pushed myself to submit stories to journals. I still haven't submitted as much as I'd like, but I'm a perfectionist. I might have a folder of finished pieces on my hard drive, but how many of those do I feel ready to have others see? Not that many. Some stories, I've grown out of. I wrote them when I was younger and less experienced and a different person, or at least at a different place in my life. I don't necessarily want those pieces seen by others.

While I'd love to have more publishing credit under my belt, I feel like that goal hinders my writing. I try too hard to research potential journals and tailor my writing to them. I write with the audience in mind, which is fine when you want to sell something. But overall, I still write for me. So I want to write the story I love, and if someone else loves it enough to publish it, awesome. If not, that's ok. I still told the story and had fun doing it.

In terms of the scripts I mentioned in the post that inspired this comment - those are definitely just for fun. It's to try script writing on a bigger scale than short sketches. I don't necessarily think the scripts will be bad, I just don't think they'll be something that will turn into a blockbuster movie. I'm writing them because the idea makes me laugh, or a friend and I came up with an idea I want to flesh out and hopefully amuse them, too. It's all about exploring, about pushing myself to try new things.

My basic purpose with writing is to put the stories from my mind on to paper. I want to read words I strung together and be pleased with what I've written - or that I've written at all! Too many days I think I should work on this story, or try to flesh out that idea, etc. But life gets in the way. Pushing myself to write anything, even if it's silly, even if it's a stream of consciousness, is such a fulfilling thing to me, that makes it worth it.

Guest Post: Autism Awareness

2013-04-09T06:18:00.000-05:00

I'm becoming more aware of autism through being with friends' children, reading books, and working with adults with various disabilities. Still, I don't know enough about autism, and always jump at the chance to learn more. Because April is Autism Awareness month, I wanted to feature Wanda as my guest blogger.
Wanda and I have been friends since the heyday of LiveJournal, and she never ceases to inspire me with her drive to further her education and career while juggling a family - and still managing to put family first! Enjoy the post, ask anything in the comments, and be sure to check out Wanda's blog, She Digs.

- - -
I am going to be completely honest and admit that I have no clue where to start, or how to end this blog post. Let me start by saying that April is Autism Awareness month, and my son Brayden, who will be 10 at the end of the month, is on the autism spectrum. I have a great deal of difficulty explaining autism to others, and though it has pretty much consumed our lives, we are just so used to it now that we rarely think about it in an “OMG, my kid is on the spectrum” sort of way anymore. The most basic definition for Autism is that it is a neural development disorder.

I had a completely normal pregnancy with Brayden, and we had a “normal” birthing experience. He was born with a condition called Hirschsprung’s Disease, but as far as we know there is no relation between the two. Brayden has always been an incredibly bright child. He was reading and writing by the age of 2 (I do have pictures!), and though we knew that this was very early for these milestones to be met, his doctors reassured us that it was totally normal. Brayden also started flapping his hands when he was excited around this age, again something his doctors told us was perfectly normal and he would outgrow. Every concern we had, they attempted to pass off as normal behavior.

When Brayden started kindergarten, his teacher noticed he had some quirks (the same ones we noticed and mentioned) that were very similar to that of another child in his class (this child was a non-verbal autistic child) and suggested he go see the woman who dealt with children with special education needs. The CSE woman felt he should meet with the school psychologist so that they could run some tests. After running the (limited) tests that the school was allowed (we lived in a very small, not even incorporated village in North Carolina at the time), they came back with a diagnosis of PDD-NOS (pervasive developmental disorder, not otherwise specified) which basically means atypical autism. Since he was high functioning, he was allowed to stay in the class he had already been placed in. They did a few different things to help his day go more smoothly.

When we moved back to New York in the summer of 2009, we started to look into places to get Brayden some more formal testing and a diagnosis so that he could get occupational therapy through the school system. After what felt like a million tests, he was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum (he presents many similar characteristics to those who have Asperger’s) as well as suffering from ADHD.

It makes me so mad when I think back on it. I couldn't take him to a specialist without a referral and of course his pediatrician wouldn't give a referral when they didn't think anything was wrong. This is why there is still such a great need for Autism Awareness.
In the United States, 1 out of 88 children will be diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder, and that makes it a national epidemic. I don’t know about any of you, but to me that is just mind blowing, and heartbreaking. Autism awareness is important because it helps get that number out there; it helps get these kids the support services they need. It helps to specially train doctors, and teachers on how to not only recognize the symptoms, but how to help these children as well. Maybe someday in the future no children or parents will be brushed off and told it is just their imagination, and their child will get the early intervention services they desperately need.

I feel like this turned into a big rambly, non-sensical post. We are lucky in our house though. Brayden does have his issues with socializing and reading comprehension. He still flaps his hands, jumps, and hums when he is excited. He is, however, verbal, in regular education classes, funny, loving, sarcastic, and so very very smart.

Please feel free to ask me any questions that you would like, however silly you feel they may be, I am sure they aren’t and I am more than willing to answer them!

March Books

2013-04-02T07:16:00.000-05:00

Calling Me Home by Julie Kibler. When Miss Isabelle asks Dorrie, her hairstylist of ten years, to drive her to a funeral a thousand miles away, Dorrie is shocked. She had no idea what she had come to Miss Isabelle - but still, she says yes, and as the two women journey from Texas to Ohio, both of them start to share their life stories. Dorrie, an African-American woman, is thirty-six, struggling to raise two teenagers on her own while wondering if she should fully trust the new man in her life. Miss Isabelle, nearing ninety, is a white woman who once fell in love with a black man. The story is beautifully written while dealing with sensitive issues that still exist in our world more than we care to admit. It's told in alternating chapters of present day and 1939, switching points of view from Dorrie to Miss Isabelle, but not in a way that is distracting or confusing, just seamless, and the best way to tell the complete story. Read in one day, and already want to read it again.

Wonder by R.J. Palacio. Wonder is one of those books I heard so much about - people loved it, the beautifully simplistic cover was posted everywhere around the Internet, libraries, bookstores. I knew I wanted to read it, even though I didn't actually know what it was about. So I started with the first page and was absolutely drawn in. August Pullman got a bad mix of genes from his parents, which resulted in a cleft jaw, ears that weren't fully formed, drooping eyes, and more. He had been homeschooled by his mother, but once he turned ten, she thought it was time for him to start "real" school. The book deals with Auggie's fifth grade year, all the lessons he and his family learns, and all the people he encounters. Auggie is the main narrator, but many chapters are narrated by his old sister, Via, her boyfriend, and August's friends at school. I thought the book was great because it was so interesting, and after a time, you forgot what August looked like, just as those who knew him did, until someone new came into the scene with their reactions. It seemed very honest in the way it addressed how the public in general reacts to people who are different from them. Honest without a hint of judgement, just acknowledging that most people initially react to such a thing, then hitting home the point that all the world needs is kindness. Or, to be more specific, a little more kindness than is necessary. I especially loved August's sense of humor about himself, and Mr. Browne's monthly precepts - it makes me want to be an English teacher, just to use his idea!

Of Thee I Zing by Laura Ingraham. A book of complaints about the current state of America, including muffin tops, people being attached to their phones, and more. Some of them were funny, some I found myself nodding along with, but some were a little prudish and over the top. Overall, a funny book, but I have to admit there were several points where Ingraham's opinion seemed so overbearing that I wanted to stop reading. As an aside: Let it be known that I had no clue who Ingraham is, and still don't really, but picked up the book at the library because it was in the same section as many others I'd read and enjoyed. Perhaps if you know who she is, you'd know more readily if you'd like this book or not.

Tripping Over the Lunch Lady and Other School Stories edited by Nancy E. Mercado. A collection of short stories from well-known authors such as Avi, Rachel Vail, and Sarah Weeks, to name a few. Many of the stories were well-done, taking me back in time to my elementary and middle school days. A few were a bit confusing to read, notably Avi's, and I wonder if it reads easier or harder for children who are the target age. Regardless, it was a good book to read and realize that everyone has had similar school experiences - no one just coasts though. Each story ends with a questionnaire from the author about their own school days.

The Day I Went Missing by Jennifer Miller. Jennifer Miller was a relatively successful writer in Hollywood, writing for sitcoms, editing screenplays, and developing her own pilot. But her parents were neglectful, and her childhood had been lacking love, which left her empty as an adult. A friend recommended a therapist to her, so she began seeing David Cohen a few times a week. Then more often, and finally seeing or talking to him every single day. He had pulled her from her shell, made her feel emotions, but he was using her. He made her utterly dependent on him, and then he started to take advantage of her - not sexually, but financially. Though Miller knew her therapist only eighteen months, she gave him over one hundred thousand dollars - and then he disappeared. The book opens with the phone call Miller gets telling her that David is dead, but I wish it hadn't been that way - I wish it had come as a shock to the reader the way it did for Miller herself. There were also points in the book where you think she's ridiculous for how easily she forked over money, how she bent over backward to not anger him. But at the end of the book, Miller makes a point about how vulnerable she was, how she was previously always on guard, but believing someone could love her made her break down her walls. After all that build up, the last page is absolutely chilling.

The End of Sex by Donna Freitas. This book addressed the hookup culture prevalent on college campuses and how that affects legitimate relationships. The study was well-conducted, with a variety of men and women answering surveys and having interviews in person, from a mix of both religious and secular universities. Each chapter dealt with a different issue, like sex, dating, virginity, homosexuality, and more. At times it read a bit stiff, with too many figures and not enough breakdown of what it all meant. I expected it to read a bit more easily, but it was a little weighed down in figures.

You Lost Me There by Rosecrans Baldwin. Victor Adams is a sixty-year-old neuroscientist putting in long days at his lab, studying Alzheimer's. He's been working long hours his entire career, which caused him to miss out on much of his marriage. His wife, Sara, has died in a car crash some time ago, but Victor hasn't properly grieved. When he finds notecards Sara had written as a therapy assignment, his marriage is cast in a different light. He remembered things one way, but Sara has a drastically different point of view. Coming to terms with the reality of his failed thirty year marriage is billed as being the focus of this story, but it's not. It's more about Victor struggling to find himself as he grows old, including bouts of drinking, taking sleeping pills, and acting insane. For the topics addressed, I expected the book to be much more emotional, but there's a huge gap between the reader and anything happening in the story - and Victor isn't very in tune with his emotions, either. I think having a connection with the story and/or main character would have saved this book.

The Visible Man by Chuck Klosterman. Originally read and reviewed 12/26/11. I loved it just as much the second time, though it hurt the story a bit to know what the climax was. I was bracing myself for it after a certain point in the book. But that's my fault, not the story's. It's still wonderfully told and delightfully creepy. It'll take weeks for you to actually feel "alone" when you're alone.

Don't Know Much About Literature by Kenneth C. Davis and Jenny Davis. A fun trivia book about classic literature. Each page is a different subject, like "Fictional First Lines," "Banned Books," or specific authors. There's a brief paragraph of information on the topic, and then a quiz. It definitely piqued my curiosity about some of the classics I'd never read, and some authors I'd never even heard of! A good way to amuse yourself while compiling an extensive reading list.

When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. Originally read and reviewed 12/6/11. Re-read in my excitement that I'm seeing Sedaris speak 4/20/13! This is probably my favorite of his books, though I love them all and can't really pinpoint why this one wins my heart. So many of the essays crack me up, and reading it a second time helped me see how much Sedaris really puts himself out there, flaws and all, for anyone to judge, but does it in a way that is honest and funny and self-deprecating, so you don't really judge him at all. Definitely a lesson to put towards my own writing.

The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White. I'm one of those English majors who threw around "Strunk and White" knowingly, but had never read the book. So I decided to remedy that just a few years after graduation. As an English major, I think most of the knowledge in this book is things we learned in class, and therefore seems common sense to us. There is some interesting advice, but the rules I was the most unclear about were actually the ones that didn't have detailed explanations accompanying them, so that turned me off.

Script Frenzy!

2013-03-26T07:29:00.000-05:00

One of my resolutions this year was to participate in ScriptFrenzy. It's similar to National Novel Writing Month, except writing 100 pages of a script in April's 30 days. When I initially heard of it back in 2008 or so, I had never written a script, didn't like reading plays, and had never thought about the "behind the scenes" of sitcoms beyond the blooper reels. Basically, writing a script didn't appeal to me.

But things change. I used to only write short fiction stories. Then I took a poetry workshop, and was amazed at what you can do when you push yourself to try things. I stopped writing poetry after the workshop (a blessing for all involved), though I loved how far from my writing comfort zone it pushed me. I write personal essays now, and am pushing myself to write nonfiction pieces that call for research and sociological experiments, because it's what I love to read. Again, I've hit that point where I need something to come in and sweep me off my writing feet.

So I resolved to try ScriptFrenzy. Now I have a bit of script writing experience - all the sketches I wrote for my comedy classes had to be properly formatted. They were super short, yes, rarely topping 10 pages, most often quick bits at 3. But the whole thing is about pushing myself.

I have an idea for a (ridiculously silly, this-will-never-be-shopped-around) movie. I have an idea for a (ditto) sitcom. And I have a bunch of sketch ideas I could finally expand, ones that might be possible to film and do something with. So I have possibilities. I have the drive. I have the excitement.

I don't have ScriptFrenzy. I navigated to the website to sign up, and saw a sad note that there weren't enough participants to continue. Posted in June of 2012. Whoops! Shoulda checked around before making that resolution.

Except... I can still do it. Some Script Frenzy participants are using Camp Nanowrimo as their outlet. It'll be a little less formal, I suppose. I might try to tackle all of the ideas I mentioned above; instead of struggling to turn any one idea into 100 pages, I'll try all the ideas and make them total 100 pages. I haven't written for fun since I finished my year of daily writing, so I'm excited about this project.

Life Lately…

2013-03-19T07:34:00.000-05:00

has been crazy busy and absolutely wonderful.
+ It's been a lot of nights of crawling into bed at 2a…because I fell asleep on the couch hours before.

+ It's been a lot of little discoveries. Just because my stove came with burner covers that looked like this:

doesn't mean that I have two big burners and two small burners.

(The fact that I only discovered this, by fluke, a month after living here means nothing.)

+ It's been a lot of getting extremely excited about where my life is headed, after several months of drifting aimlessly.

+ It's been a lot of getting to know some really good people.

+ It's been a lot of getting to know myself, and liking what I'm finding.

+ It's been a lot of sunlight pouring in.

+ It's been a lot of capturing natural sunbursts.

For Sale

2013-03-07T07:38:00.000-06:00

I had this dream of displaying a Polaroid on my fridge: me standing proudly next to my "Sold" sign. It'd be kind of like those bars that tack up the first dollar they ever earned.

But I got gypped. There was never a "Sold" sign in my yard. In fact, the "For Sale" sign was still there a week after closing. I have a slight jealousy problem, and couldn't stand the thought of people cruising past my house, thinking "Wow, that's beautiful. I think I'll buy that one." So I pulled it out. Which I guess, in a way, is cooler than posing next to it - literally ripping it out, triumphing over that closing like the badass I am.

I know it's petty; it's stupid to yearn for it, like those people who focus on the wedding more than the marriage. I'm focusing on the sold sign more than the life this house and I are building together. But it's something I was looking forward to. It was supposed to be a landmark in my life, a rite of passage.

The whole thing reminds me of getting my wisdom teeth removed - the dentist tossed my teeth without even asking if I wanted to keep them. (I did.) It felt like I lost a part of myself. (Oh, wait…)

It's pathetic, and probably says a lot about me, but I think about those teeth at least twice a week. I miss them. It's a little understandable, I suppose, since I had them with me for so long. I never even had my "Sold" sign. But somehow, that makes me miss it more.

Blips of Life - Milestones

2013-03-05T07:39:00.000-06:00

To those who guessed that I had published a book - bless you. You may or may not now be written into my will. The truth is, though… I bought a house!

How do I pick a color?! // No changes needed in this bathroom; I'd have picked that wallpaper out myself // Rollin' rollin' rollin' // Driiiiip! // It's a match // The finished product

Cutting in makes the room look like a cube drawn in geometry class // Rolling is my favorite, because you see major progress so quickly // Another perfect match! // I think they yellow edges really brighten up the room // But I'll paint it all, because it looks golden with the green door and sunshine // ANOTHER match!
My brother helped me move - we loaded his trusty pickup truck, which was plenty since I was leaving a 450 square foot apartment. When we reached the final destination, Frank climbed into the bed to hand things down to me, and I'd take them into the house. He lowered the dresser to the ground while I had my arms full of something else, so it stood there for a few minutes.

Little known fact that is quite important to the story: I have an ASSMAN license plate on the side of my dresser.

I got back to the truck before my brother, and waited next to the dresser so we could carry it in together. At that point, the lawn guy who was next door crosses the yard, introduces himself, and gives me his card.

He then looks at the license plate on the dresser, back at me, and then over to Frank, who has come out of the house at the exact perfect moment. I'm pretty sure he would have snatched back his business card if he could have.

February Books

2013-02-28T10:06:00.000-06:00

The Perfect Ghost by Linda Barnes. Em Moore is half of the ghostwriting team T. E. Blakemore - the writing half, since she's agoraphobic. Teddy was the other half, the interviewer, the face and charm of the pseudonym. He had been Em's professor, and then became her lover, partner, and caregiver. But he dies in a car wreck halfway through Blakemore's latest project, a book about famous actor/director Garrett Malcolm. The book must be completed, so Em has to travel from Boston to Cape Cod to finish Teddy's work. She's been transcribing his tapes all along, but now it's her own voice she records asking the questions. She has Teddy's notes, but some of them are confusing, some of them seem like he was on the way to solving a mystery, but Em can't even figure out what the mystery was, much less what solution the notes are giving. This is a book where the narrator is barely a character, which actually worked in this case. Em is so passive and mousy, that you hardly realized she was the one telling the book. The main character was the story itself, multilayered and unfolding into something impossible to predict.

The Best of Us by Sarah Pekkanen. Pekkanen is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. I read two of her books last month, and was not disappointed by her newest. Four college friends and their spouses go on a trip to Jamaica to celebrate one's 35th birthday. They're all going through different things in life, and the narrative effortlessly jumps from one point of view to another. Allie is facing a health scare, Tina is overwhelmed by her four children, Savannah is secretly separated from her husband, and Pauline is struggling with the secrets she's kept from her husband, including an abortion and a mentally handicapped sister. Along with all the troubles they bring to the island, even more predicaments crop up during their week together. As usual, Pekkanen discusses difficult life topics in a way that addresses each possible solution, then provides a realistic and satisfying resolution.

With or Without You by Domenica Ruta. A memoir of a young woman's addiction to drinking, drugs, and her mother. "Nikki" grew up as her drug addicted mother's only child and best friend. Their relationship was deep, yet often strained. Nikki pushed herself to do well in school, so she could go away to a boarding school and an out-of-state college and graduate program. Even then, she was still incredibly linked and devoted to her mother, even when it meant Nikki's own life was spiraling out of control under the pressure of her own addictions. The book is so well-written that Ruta's dry humor comes out to make you laugh, even when weighed down by such serious topics. It was a little emotionally distanced for the subject matter, though I understand the need to separate oneself from such a hurtful past. It was a very wise and inspirational book, one I couldn't put down once I started it.

Heart Like Mine by Amy Hatvany. An interesting book about families coming together into something new. Grace has dedicated herself to her job at a battered women's shelter, and never had much time for relationships, until she met Victor. Victor owns a restaurant and has custody of his two children on weekends, but doesn't want anymore - which is a relief to Grace, because she's never wanted kids. Kelli, Victor's ex-wife, keeps the kids during the week and desperately needs their affection, and even their help with remembering household chores like paying the bills. When Kelli is found dead, the kids come to live with Victor and Grace full-time, something neither adult is prepared for. On top of that, everyone is trying to figure out how Kelli died, without telling the others what they know. Told from the perspectives of Grace, Ava, and occasionally Kelli herself, this book will make you re-think your views on all things motherhood and family.

Deadbeat by Amy Sparling. An interesting book about a teenage pregnancy from the guy's point of view. It was very easy to get caught up in the drama of balancing such a major life change with the trivial day-to-day happenings in high school. I think the emotions involved with such a decision at a critical time when your emotions are bouncing around so drastically was really well done here.

Indiscretion by Charles Dubow. It is rare that a book can keep you so distanced from the characters while allowing you to become so entangled in their lives, but that is what happens with Indiscretion, and it works perfectly. It's hard to say too much about the plot without giving anything away - the blurb is fairly vague, and I think it is best to start reading without knowing what exactly will happen in the story. Although I might warn that the summary makes the book sound bland in comparison to how lively it really is - the drama draws you in and you don't realize how involved you are until the ending sends your heart soaring and then squeezes.

Tell the Wolves I'm Home by Carla Rifka Brunt. This book was recommended to me, and I'm so glad it was. If you're looking for a book with great characters - this is it. They're all so real, so complex, and you never really know what they're going to do next. June is fourteen when her uncle/best friend Finn dies. She's having a hard time getting over it when a somewhat familiar man starts showing up in her life. June has to figure out who the man is, and how she can sneak him into her life. Things start to come unwound in some aspects of her life, while she feels more complete and is finding herself in others. The book is emotional without being overly sentimental, but most of all, I focused on the characters themselves. I wanted them in my life; I didn't want the book to end because I wanted to see what else would happen, even after the story was told.

How to Write a Great Book and Get It Published by Tom Evans. This book is more aimed towards the publishing and money side of writing, than the actual "telling a story" aspect. Some of the sentences were pretty ridiculous: "…a twelve chapter book will take 6 to 12 days of your time to write. You will need to find this time or engage a ghost writer." REALLY? The author plugs his own site a lot, which is fine, except it made the book less complete, because you have to go to his site and/or pay him to get further information (though it could more than likely be found on your own). On the about the author page, it was said that "He… has been called, by others, both a wizard and alchemist." Just a little ridiculous, no? That being said, it's a very short read, and there are a few good checklists of things you need for a query or if you're self-publishing, but overall, you could find that information elsewhere.

Once Upon a Gypsy Moon by Michael Hurley. This book was described as being a memoir by a man who was looking for perspective in his life after his 25 year marriage ended in divorce, pushing him to sail solo. I expected it to be very emotional, but instead there was a major distance between the writer and all that happened to him. I didn't expect him to air his dirty laundry, but I did expect to feel like I was going along on the voyage with him. The language was fairly formal, ex: "The matters of my departure from Beaufort and my ultimate destination were decisions yet to be made. I knew this in my heart to be true, even though I admitted it to no one…" A little stuffy. That, along with the book being more about the technical side of sailing than anything emotional, made it a difficult read. If you're looking for something introspective and inspirational, I'd recommend Swept by Torre DeRoche.

One Step Too Far by Tina Seskis. I would compare this book to the movie "The Sixth Sense" - there is a major twist ending that hits you right in the gut, and if you go back and read it again, the clues are all there, you just didn't put them together properly. The book is incredibly entertaining, and well-paced to keep you hanging on and wanting more. Emily Coleman leaves her life behind to become Cat Brown, something she's thought about for many months, and knows will work because it's her maiden name. She leaves behind Ben and Charlie, and though she thinks of them often, she gets sucked into the city life of London. Though a few sections were confusingly vague in order to keep you guessing the truth, it was a great read.

Three Things From Life

2013-02-26T07:32:00.000-06:00

I have a folder of blog posts I've written, but, for various reasons, never posted. When I stumbled across this one a few weeks ago, it brought a huge smile to my face. I'm all about goals and resolutions and accomplishing things, so it made me happy to see that I had accomplished something from one of my lists. I wrote this post June 12, 2009, but the conversation that inspired it happened in the fall of 2008. And I just accomplished one of the specific goals in 2013.

- - -
A friend asked me what three things I want most out of life. To buy time, I asked, "General things, or specific goals?" Specific goals I could list, no problem. So of course he meant general things.

I thought about it and finally answered:
     - to always be happy with what I have
     - to be financially secure
     - to learn something from every experience

I felt like I should've been wearing a bathing suit and sash, but I'm pretty pleased with my answers. I guess wanting to be financially secure might be a little materialistic, but it's how I've always lived, so at least I'll be able to manage it. I've never lived beyond my means, so unless something major happens, then that goal should be attainable.

He agreed with my three, but also wanted to be remembered. I'm not sure about that one. I wouldn't want to be remembered unless I contributed something to the world. (Another pageant answer!) I hope I'll positively influence someone somehow. Hopefully my writing will touch someone. Even if I'm never published, I'd like a reader to feel something because of my words. Otherwise, I'm content with being forgotten. I haven't done much in this life, and my family and friends will remember me (to an extent) and that's enough.

Which brings me back around to my specific goals. I have an entire list of things to do before I die that I keep adding to, but his question made me look at it and pick three:
     - Publish a book. Not only would this mean I actually finished a book, but someone liked it enough to believe in and buy, which means some of the public might feel the same way. I think it'd be fun to learn about the other side of publishing: deal with an agent, have an editor, plan a book tour, etc. And if I only publish one, I can only hope it's in the vein of To Kill a Mockingbird, instead of being so lackluster that no one wants to hear more from me.
     - Own a house. I love the security and sense of establishment that owning a home gives. Apartments can be cool, and it's kinda fun to move to new places, but I want to find the perfect house and make it all mine. Some girls start planning their dream weddings when they're kids, but I started a list of characteristics I wanted in my dream house and designed it with my dad's architecture software.
     - Skydive/ride in a hot air balloon. When I found out my last boss was a skydiver, I got really excited because I knew I'd finally get my chance. Except his rule is he won't let anyone jump who he cares about. So I'm good to go, right?! No, I've tried that line before. Deep down, no matter how much he hides it, he loves me, and thinks I'll die before I hit the ground. Which means I'll either have to go behind his back and do it (but I really wanted to jump with him) or "settle" for a ride in a hot air balloon.

- - -
Let's make this a game: what specific goal do you think I've accomplished? (If you know me outside of the blog, your vote doesn't count! Unless you answer falsely to throw others off the trail.)

Bookalikes - Motifs

2013-02-21T07:31:00.000-06:00

Jumping/Flying Kids with a Random Bird Thrown In

Peter Pan is a classic, but... I've never read the book. I know, so bad of me! Especially since this copy has been on my shelf for years. And as much as I love the many movie adaptations I've seen, Fudge and Peter's antics have given me way more amusement!

Peeking From a Tiny Opening

The Best of Good by Sara Lewis is one of those books I re-read every year or so: the story of a musician who ducked out of the spotlight but has yet to grow up and start any semblance of a real life. I haven't read John Marsden's Letters from the Inside since I was in middle and high school, but it was one of my favorites back then: told through letters between two female pen pals who learn more and more about each other… but never know what exactly is the truth.

Daily Writing - DONE!

2013-02-19T07:16:00.000-06:00

It seems like I've been doing daily writing for years. And not in a sophisticated "I'm such an awesome writer, I get up and write wonderful things every day" way, either. More like a whiny "Holy crap, has it not even been a year yet?"

Today is my day. Today marks one year.
One year of writing three pages a day. One year of wracking my brain for thoughts to spin into fiction, essays, journal entries, fodder for snail mail, anything. It hasn't been the fantastic exploration of my writerly side that I daydreamed about; many days' pages slack off at the 2.5 mark, and the rest is large letters proclaiming "I don't have anything to write about anymore! I guess I better go get dressed for work. After I make my lunch. And finish my coffee," yada yada yada.

But I did it. And hopefully I can stick to the general idea of daily writing, and push myself to write more than only when an idea comes to me. Because there is something to be said about establishing a routine, about having a pen in your hand and putting words, any words, on paper.

(I celebrated the halfway point here.)

Blips of Life, Including Some Sweetness

2013-02-14T07:06:00.005-06:00

Hello, Pretty Bird! // A sock with a hole in the heel turns into a nice slipcover for Big Mama // My favorite mug broke // But a friend's late Christmas gift replaced it perfectly!

I've never been crazy about holidays, but a few months ago decided to put
more effort into making holidays special. Cue making and mailing cards,
baking treats to share, and trying to spread as much cheer as I can.

A Valentine drawn by a client in art class // Making my own Valentine's cards // Delicious macaroons from Pistache // Gorgeous chocolates, also from Pistache // Cupcakes with cookie dough inside, and a tiny cookie on top so you know
what you're getting // Tiny cookie trumps tiny cupcake!

Raiding my parents' kitchen for all their baking goodies, and I saw these:

Imitation Almond Flavor, Imitation Butter Flavor, Imitation Rum Extract, Imitation Brandy Flavor, and… Red?

Guest Post: Lauren from Her Silent Musings

2013-02-12T07:38:00.000-06:00

I decided to feature the Inspiration series once every two months. Kicking off this year with her thoughts on goals is Lauren of Her Silent Musings. Lauren is a fairly new friend, but I immediately fell for her blog because it's so well-written, with every post thought out and eloquent. I can't read a post of hers and not be inspired after. So when she mentioned guest posting, I jumped all over that.

- - -
       Just because a New Year may be approaching doesn’t always mean you’re ready to reform your lifestyle. Nor do your desires to rid yourself of certain habits always coincide with Lent season. I learned both in the span of one month. Near the end of 2012 and early January, I made goals for myself – writing, life, health, fitness, etc. My goal was to write one short story per month, a new chapter of my novel each week, one personal essay every month, and read one book every week. None of that happened. Instead, I wrote no short stories nor personal essays, decided to take an impromptu break from blogging, read three books (one of which I started in December), and only managed to finish one chapter of my novel by the end of the month. As it happened, I wasn’t mentally ready to take on a slew of new goals nor was I willing to wait for Lent to take a much needed step away from the Internet. What exactly did I learn from all this?

Don’t beat yourself up.

       This was the biggest thing about realizing how behind I was getting in my goals. The ones listed above don’t even cover half of what I failed to accomplish. I realized that if I was going to accomplish anything at all this year that I wanted to get done, I needed to learn how to be easy on myself. And, actually, it was surprisingly easy to cut myself some slack and not feel like a horrible person over it. Once you realize that you’re not superhuman and can’t, in fact, always catch on to the kind of discipline and determination you’d like to have right away, but instead acknowledge that with each stride you’re making improvements, you’ll make the whole goal-setting-and-attaining process much less stressful for yourself in the long run. Remember, goals are a process, and just because you’re not getting them done as soon as you imagined you would, doesn’t mean you’re a failure.

Admit that you need to set smaller goals.

       If you’re like me, you tried to set up a bunch of big goals that only your idealistic side thought you’d be able to manage. Also, if you’re like me, you’re realistic side didn’t get much say in this matter, because, like I said, you like to think you’re Hermoine Granger or something. Take all of those goals you wrote out for yourself earlier in the year and pick the ones that matter most to you right now. Sometimes all you need is that first month of trying to keep your New Year’s resolutions to realize that you can’t get make everything a priority. For instance, I learned that the most important things for me were to get a first draft of my novel written, read daily, live a more healthy life (i.e. going to bed earlier, waking up sooner, stretching, exercising, eating healthier, etc.), and journal more.

Take these realizations and revise your stance.

       So, you’ve finally realized you have no magical powers, much to your dismay, and will in fact have to turn things down a notch. Found out what you were doing to keep yourself from accomplishing all the goals you’d written down and cut back on that one activity, whether it be television, video games, talking on the phone, spending too much time on the Internet, whatever. Figure out your most important goals and set up times when you’re most likely to work towards achieving them. If you know that you’re going to come home at the end of the day and only want to veg out in front of the TV and relax your brain, work on your goals in the morning, on weekends, and/or during your lunch break at work. Just find out what works with your schedule and get it done. Just remember, sometimes you have to be strict and make yourself get things done whether you feel like it in the moment or not. If that means not going out with friends, don’t go. If that means not watching your favorite TV show, don’t watch. If that means having to tell your family you need thirty minutes or an hour to get things done, do it. If they love you, they’ll understand, and even support you in your ventures. Just make sure you’re still carving out time for them. They deserve your awesomeness, too.

Mostly importantly, know when you’re mentally and emotionally ready to take on these challenges and when you’re not.

       I wasn’t ready for New Year’s and all its goal-setting when the first of January rolled around. I had some ideas about what I wanted to get done this year, but it wasn’t until the second week in that I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the 2, 013th year of our Lord, and even then it took me a month to weed out which goals were most important to me. Just because a new year comes up, doesn’t mean you have to feel pressured to start making up a bunch of goals for yourself. Maybe you won’t be ready until March or maybe you were ready to get down to business in November. You need to do it when the time is right and when you feel prepared to take on your challenges. Also, just because Lent season doesn’t start until February doesn’t mean you have to wait until then to shed something from your life. Maybe it will last as long as Lent, maybe it will take longer, or maybe it will only take you a week or two. For me, I needed to stop blogging immediately and couldn’t wait until Lent. I needed to start clearing my head the moment I’d made up my mind about it. And I will most likely go back to blogging before Lent even starts (which means I’ll just have to think of something else to give up).

       The worst thing we can do to ourselves is force something to happen in our lives that we’re not ready for. Life already throws curveballs at us when we’re unprepared, so why do that to ourselves? Before we take on a big project, we need to have all of our bases covered. We need to have a plan for how we’re going to handle these goals and where we can catch up if we veer off course. But, most importantly, we should set attainable goals. Figure out which goals you gave the most priority in January and why, then reevaluate them from there. You may find that you change your mind about wanting to achieve certain goals. Give yourself room to grow and change. As they say, this is your party.

- - -
I love this post because I too see Lent as another opportunity to attempt those goals you either forgot about for New Year's, or already flubbed up. Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Lauren! Go check out her blog at Her Silent Musings and follow her on Twitter @hersilentmusing.

We Are Storytellers

2013-02-07T07:03:00.000-06:00

I volunteer for SRVS, an organization in Memphis that provides a variety of services for adults with intellectual, physical, and developmental disabilities. For over a year now, I've done weekly art classes at the day center. But I've wanted to do more than that. The day I took a tour of the facilities, before I even started volunteering, I told some of the staff about my idea. The staff was supportive, but it took me awhile to get the project off the ground. I wanted to be familiar with that environment, I wanted to get to know the individuals before asking something major of them.

Around the organization's building, we've been referring to it as "the Storytelling Project." I sit down one-on-one with the adults who come to the learning center and have them write and illustrate their own stories. Basically, I want to give these people a creative outlet. But it's a little selfish, too: I want to understand how their minds work, I want a glimpse into how they're living every day. The project launched in January, and I'm keeping a blog about my experience with it. It's called We Are Storytellers.

The blog's focus is the Storytelling project, but as I study and learn more about disabilities, I might write about that, too. It's something that's fascinating to me, and I work better if I can put my thoughts down somewhere and try to make sense of them.

If this isn't your thing, I understand. But if you have any interest in this topic and project at all, I'd greatly appreciate your comments, feedback, and support!

I wrote about how I got started yesterday at We Are Storytellers. You can follow along for updates on Twitter, too: @StorytellersOrg.

A Scene from my Daily Life - Breakfast

2013-02-05T08:31:00.003-06:00

Allison: I keep thinking of that place where I ate the massive slender pancake. Sydney's or Mike's or Richard's… it had the same name as one of my dad's friends.

Julie: Elmer's.

Allison: Oh. Well I'm wrong then. But it was a good pancake.

And it was.

Bookin' it through January

2013-01-31T06:44:00.000-06:00

Such a Pretty Fat by Jen Lancaster. I don't even know what to say about Lancaster's books anymore. This is the third of her memoirs I've read, and I can't wait to get the rest. She's hilarious and, most importantly, brutally honest about her flaws. This book focuses on her attempt at weight loss, even though she initially wasn't upset about her weight or how she looked. I love how much she evolves through the course of each individual book, as she realizes whatever she changes is for the best.

Stay by Allie Larkin. Savannah ("Van") has been in love with her friend Peter for six years. He even asked her to marry him… if they weren't married by the time they were thirty. But well before that deadline, Van finds herself as a bridesmaid while her college best friend marries her childhood best friend. The relationships with each change drastically, and Van tries to find her footing. This means she's drinking more, which leads to accidentally ordering a German Shepherd puppy online. When the puppy is more than she bargains for, Van has to adjust to her completely new life. This book is an entertaining read that will make you feel warm and fuzzy inside, and you won't want to put down until you're all done.

Some Girls Are by Courtney Summers. A dark, depressing book about the underbelly of high school popularity. Regina is the right hand man of Anna, the most popular girl in her high school, until everything gets out of hand at a party. Anna's boyfriend comes on to Regina, almost raping her, but the story is twisted so it sounds like Regina came onto him. Anna exiles her from the popular crowd and makes her life miserable. I had a hard time believing Regina, who used to be so passive and needed Anna's approval for everything, was the type who would stand up to her and be vicious enough to get back at her, regardless of what was at stake. It's a well-written book, and very interested to read because the main character isn't likable, but you still find yourself rooting for her.

The Bedwetter: Stories of Courage, Redemption, and Pee by Sarah Silverman. I've been reading a lot of funny memoirs lately, but Silverman takes the cake. It seems wrong to describe her humor as "subtle" since she's so over the top, but that's exactly what I'd say about this book. Instead of showcasing the joke in each paragraph, Silverman tucks one into each sentence so you read over it and are laughing before you realize what the joke was. When you read over the sentence, you're cracking up for a good five minutes before you can continue on. It's a straight-forward memoir, starting, appropriately, with her childhood problem of wetting the bed and continuing on to her teenage problem of wetting the bed. We're right along with her as she breaks into comedy, still occasionally wetting the bed.

Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins. I picked up this book because every YA reader and blogger I knew had reviewed it, and raved about it. I trust their opinions, so I knew I had to read it for myself. I wasn't disappointed! It's everything you could want in a YA novel - adventure, romance, heartbreak (ok, I guess you might not WANT heartbreak, but it's necessary!). Anna Oliphant is going to Paris! Sounds like fun, right? Except she's being sent away by her parents, she'll miss the senior year at her high school in Atlanta, and she'll have to attend a boarding school with other Americans. On top of all that, she's leaving behind her little brother she adores, her best friend, and the boy she was maybe-kinda starting something with. Understandably, Anna isn't too happy when she first arrives in Paris. Thankfully classmates take her under their wings and she grows to love the city. She even finds another boy to maybe-kinda start something with! Except there's one hitch… he has a girlfriend.

And I Don't Want to Live This Life by Deborah Spungen. The story of Nancy Spungen (of Sid and Nancy infamy) told by someone who knew her best - her mother. I read this book over and over when I was in high school; I guess the mystery of the rock and roll life and death appealed to me more back then. It was a little more difficult to get through this time. Spungen's writing is very verbose, and at times it's too melodramatic. Sometimes I identified with her or had empathy for her, but sometimes she came off as whiny. She starts with the difficult time she had giving birth to Nancy, then all the behavioral problems that followed. Nancy's death is, of course, still a mystery, but Spungen provides insight into Sid Vicious in the form of letters he wrote her while he was in jail. The book is very dark, which is appropriate, considering the subject matter. Still, there is an upbeat ending because Spungen became very involved in various victims' rights and Families of Murdered Children groups.

Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. Read this book. Seriously, you must read it. I don't want to give this book the short end of the stick when it comes to writing a review, but I don't actually think there's much that can be said about it. Or, more accurately, there's so much that can be said about it, once you encounter someone else who has read it. I think it's best to open the cover knowing as little as possible about the subject matter. Let yourself go in with no expectations and be overcome with the characters and the story. One of those books where you read it as quickly as you can, savoring the prose while needing to know what happens, though you don't actually want to reach the end.

Gasping for Airtime by Jay Mohr. Jay Mohr is so personable on his podcast "Mohr Stories" that I couldn't wait to read the book about his years on Saturday Night Live. It was written eight years ago, so all I can hope is that Mohr was still bitter when he wrote the book, or needed money, or something. It reads like it's supposed to be one of those gossip-y books giving the dirt on a beloved institution, but it fell flat even in that regard. Mohr disses all his fellow cast members and writers in the first half of the book, but later waves that away and says he loved them all. He never disses Lorne Michaels, however, and kind of kisses his butt a bit. It's not surprising to see him bend over backwards for the one with the most power, but it was so over-the-top that it didn't seem like Mohr at all. The book was a little imbalanced - 5 pages were dedicated to a wrestling match with Chris Farley, but other major experiences were glossed over. I was expecting him to be brutally honest - on his podcast, he admits that he used to be an asshole, and 'fesses up to his substance abuse. In the book, it's all played down. Mohr gets frustrated when his sketches are never chosen for the show, or he's never cast in any, which I understand - why hire someone you don't plan to use? Yet he starts begging out of sketches that don't give him any lines, then complains that no one ever saw him on TV. Overall, it came off as bitter and whiny. Stick to the podcast.

Kinsey and Me by Sue Grafton. This book is half short stories starring Kinsey Millhone and half autobiographical stories starring Kit Blue. Though most of the Millhone stories have been previously published, I had never read any, and really enjoyed seeing the private eye in such concise adventures, especially as I feel that Grafton's last few books have been much longer than they need to be. The Kit Blue stories didn't win me over as easily. The first few sounded awkward and forced, which isn't a surprise since Grafton wrote the deeply personal stories soon after her mother died. The last few stories of the book, however, were wonderfully written and really tugged at the heartstrings.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed. As much as I love to dream that I could hike the Appalachian Trail, I think I'll have to settle for reading about such adventures. Cheryl Strayed hiked the AT's cousin, the mountainous Pacific Crest Trail that stretches from the California/Mexico border to the Washington/Canada border. Strayed grew up in a home without electricity or indoor plumbing and camped often, but hiking over 1,100 miles was still something she wasn't physically prepared for. She wasn't emotionally prepared, either, still grieving over her mother's death, as well as her recent divorce. She takes to the trail as a type of therapy, and by the end of the book, I felt like I had trekked along with her, learning lessons and experiencing life as one does alone in nature.

Saving Zoe by Alyson Noel. Echo was about to turn fourteen when her older sister, Zoe, disappeared. It takes six months before they figure out what really happened to Zoe; during that time, everyone had suspected Zoe's boyfriend, Marc. On Echo's fifteenth birthday, Marc gives her Zoe's diary. Echo grows closer to her sister and realizes she wants that kind of life. Once she's living it, however, she feels fragmented, and starts learning things about the darker side of life - and also finding a way she can save her sister's legacy.

Teaching Montessori in the Home by Elizabeth G. Hainstock. I wanted to learn a bit of background about montessori teaching, and stumbled across this book at the library. Published in 1968, some of it is a bit outdated - "For practical-life training the Bissel Little Queen set is ideal - it contains an apron, carpet sweeper, mop, broom, sponge and dustpan. It may be found at any toy shop or obtained with trading stamps." But overall it has a brief yet thorough history of Maria Montessori, an outline of how and why montessori is taught, and tons of great learning activities. The best part is that all of the activity supplies can be made if you have the time - especially effective if you don't have any trading stamps laying around.

These Girls by Sarah Pekkanen. This is one of those books that you pick up because it looks like a quick, entertaining read. And it is. I started it and could hardly put it down. But it's deeper than that - exploring relationships and friendships and family so thoroughly, yet it doesn't resonate with you until you finish the story. I keep writing sentences summarizing what happens with New York City roommates Cate, Renee, and Abby, but none of it is good enough. It's better to jump in to the story and get hooked.

Social Media Just for Writers by Frances Caballo. Reviewed here with a giveaway!

The Opposite of Me by Sarah Pekkanen. Lindsey and Alex are fraternal twins and complete opposites. One is the "smart" twin, and one is the "pretty" twin. Though Lindsey is on the road to major success at an ad agency in New York City, she's always been jealous of Alex, who things seem to come easy to because she's beautiful. When Lindsey's job spirals out of control, she moves back home to Bethesda, Maryland. There she learns a lot about family, her sister, and who Lindsey really is. Another great read by Pekkanen that will suck you right in.

Social Media Just for Writers

2013-01-29T06:49:00.000-06:00

When I was first contacted about participating in the book tour for Frances Caballo's Social Media Just for Writers, I thought "Ehh, I'm not too active in social media, so why would I want to read this book?" Which is the exact reason I need to read this book. I love blogging, and occasionally binge on Twitter interactions, but that's the extent of it. I haven't had a Facebook account for three years now, and I only used my short-lived Google+ profile as an extension of Twitter.

I was using those platforms for personal use; I was Facebook friends with people I didn't really like in high school, LinkedIn with people who read my blog but didn't even know what I did for a living. Frances Caballo gears her book towards using these platforms for marketing.

Social Media Just for Writers is the size of a school workbook, which is perfect because a standard paperback book containing all this information would be incredibly dense. The large pages are necessary - as Caballo addresses the various social media platforms, she shows pictures of their layouts and shares screenshots of each step of customizing a profile.

She has chapters on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, LinkedIn, blogging, and even Pinterest - as well as sections within each one on how to connect these (have a Twitter feed on your blog, coordinate everything with apps, etc). For each platform, she walks you through how to set up a profile and/or fan page, provides a glossary of relevant terms, and suggests schedules and topics to help you garner the best audience - and not bug the crap out of them with frequent and boring updates.

The last chapter is all about offline marketing - book clubs, promotional materials, media kits, writing press releases, and book tours that won't break the bank. Everything is spelled out and explained in such a way that it doesn't seem like a daunting task.

Check out Frances Caballo on her website, Twitter, Facebook, Google+, LinkedIn, and Pinterest. (Whew, told ya she's on everything!) Be sure to check out the rest of the posts on her book tour.

I'm giving away a copy of Frances Caballo's Social Media Just for Writers! If you're in the US, you'll get a hard copy, and if you're overseas, you'll win a digital copy. Leave a comment with your email address, and I'll pick a random winner on Monday, February 4th.

Thanks to TLC Book Tours for asking me to be a part of this!

Bookalikes - Comedy Edition

2013-01-24T06:32:00.000-06:00

I don't judge books by their covers. Not really. Though I do appreciate a good cover, and something eye-catching will make me pick up a book even if the title or author didn't stand out on their own merits. But I digress. I've been noticing that many of them are similar, or have similar elements, but are totally different in subject matter. I decided there were enough to do a monthly feature on this here blog, so I started going through my shelves to find some.

Let's start off with some comedians:

Sarah Silverman's The Bedwetter resembles Life After Death by Damien Echols in cover image only. One is about a comedian who was over twenty before no longer peeing the bed, and one is about a falsely-accused prisoner's life on death row. Guess which is which!

Adam Carolla's In Fifty Years We'll All Be Chicks and Beverly Cleary's Henry and the Paper Route both feature boys on bikes. Carolla's book, however, is filled with rants about the ridiculousness of society, but I'm not sure what Cleary's book is about…

Talk with the Animals

2013-01-22T06:56:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was an incredibly important day. Do you know why?

Squirrel Appreciation Day.

Seriously. It was. So in celebration, I present you one of my many dear squirrel friends:

A (human) friend even sent along a gift for them in a Christmas package.

I guess it's a bit mean to allow the squirrel's major domestic predator to hijack the post, but this cat is relatively new to my 'hood and I wanted to make him feel welcome. Saturday morning, I was watching Curb Your Enthusiasm when I saw a cat go by. Maybe I was channeling Larry David, or maybe I always yell at animals - who knows! It was initially distracted by the TV before realizing the sound was coming from somewhere else.

If the embedded video isn't working, please watch here!
Before you feel the need to ask: a) No, I don't know why my "meows" sound like an ambulance siren; b) No, I am not embarrassed by how I "talk" to animals. It works, ok? We're friends.

What Would You Do? Music Edition

2013-01-17T07:01:00.000-06:00

Number One: Imagine a world where CDs are still among your prized possessions. You file your CDs in alphabetical order. You have the entire catalog for a band - do you arrange them alphabetically by title, or chronologically according to release? Why?

Number Two: You're going to see four moderately well-known bands play. One is your favorite band, one is a band you can't stand. Is "Never wear a band shirt to a band’s concert" a hard and fast rule, or in this case, is it ok to wear the t-shirt of the band you're going to see? Why?

Share your responses in the comments! I'll edit this post to include mine on Sunday.

My answers:
Number One: Chronologically, of course. The collection as a whole is arranged alphabetically, which is enough to satisfy my OCD side. But I like listening to bands from the beginning, to hear how their music progressed. Also, I started filing my music this way before we had the Internet at home, so I was able to go to my cabinet and see what order albums were released even though I lacked constant access to Wikipedia.

My CD catalog.
Number Two: I wear a band's shirt if they're playing in a festival environment. I want to show my support, and when I've done this in the past, the bands are "small" enough, popularity-wise, to notice and appreciate it. And God forbid someone assume I'm there because I love the headlining band if they truly suck. I don't see the big deal about wearing a band's shirt to their show - who really gives a crap about that kind of thing? If I were a rock star, I'd love seeing my logo out in the crowd.