The Merest Idea

Abandoned

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Tue, 14 Jul 2020 12:06:00 +0000

I used to judge abandoned blogs. Why start something and just leave it hanging? Why publicly reveal you are a quitter? Why leave up something that is dead? These questions betray the immaturity of my thinking. Is something not worth doing if you cannot do it forever? No, that's absurd. Life has many phases that flow from one to the next, and very few are chapters that have a definitive end. 99.9% of blogs are probably currently inactive. So what? A blog is just one form of self expression and communication. Perhaps those authors have kept writing elsewhere, or perhaps they have stopped writing and pursued other efforts. Wish them well, wish them satisfying and life-giving endeavors.

How many more things will I write (or think) that I will change my mind on? If I have grown, and learned, should I not be kind to my past self and appreciate that I can change? I have always worried that if I spoke my mind I would regret that I had because one day I may change my outlook. As if I were afraid of growth. But that would actually be a bad thing, to never change or never admit you were wrong, and there is power in doing that publicly. Popular opinion can be too unforgiving and we would benefit from encouraging and forgiving those willing to admit when they are wrong. Why would I stifle my own free practice of this belief yet want it desperately for others?

And yet I have not grown much because I have stopped myself from saying anything lest I should be called out on it. I need to find the courage to say if I am wrong, I can grow, and if I am not then I need to speak truth. I need to stop being ashamed of truth. And also, stop worrying about a fictional hypothetical theoretical unlikely time when I may be highly criticized because I am highly visible. I should be so lucky! Life has certainly shown that in all but the rarest of cases, fame is hard to come by. An audience must be won, and I am not the type to do it by any means I find ignoble. If I have earned it, I will have succeeded in speaking truth.

In hindsight, it is all the Resistance* doing its job so well, keeping me in the "safe" zone, protecting me from myself and others. I have not been being brave. I have not been acting clever. To call it what it is, I have been timid, I have given myself over to lethargy, and I have been too quick to chase easier thrills and leave the hard work behind. It doesn't kill me to journal. It is merely discipline about bedtime and discipline during times of upheaval, whether that be injury, pandemic, or malaise. I am enabling an amateur when I'm long past due to go pro.

(*See The War of Art by Steven Pressfield)

Pantry Purge: Redux

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Mon, 20 Mar 2017 13:44:00 +0000

It has been over three years since Matthew and I embarked upon the original Operation Pantry Purge in the fall of 2013. So much has changed in our food storage and buying habits! And yet I’m astounded by the number of foods that remained untouched and ever more inedible 3 years on.

For starters, we built out a mini-bar in the basement in 2014 and were able to move all the beer/alcohol to it’s own shelves/fridge down there. That made room for a bottled juice empire to grow up in its place. And in 2015 I started meal planning, which encourages us to buy only what we need for the week’s meals when we walk down the grocery store aisles.

Lest you think those big changes alone were enough to prevent disaster, let me just show you the “before” picture so you can see why it was time to purge again.

The tea situation was as bad as ever, and the stuff I hid in the closet during our NYE party needed to be sorted and dispersed. Plus I was getting annoyed at pawing through all the boxes of things to find what I wanted.

The purge redux was completed in two sessions and left behind a trimmer-than-ever pantry, now with room to keep coolers on the bottom shelf. I’m sad to say though that, while we are getting better at not being food hoarders, we aren’t necessarily retaining smartness. It wasn’t until I re-read the posts from the last purge that I realized we were missing an important aid in the evaluation process: beer! I’m not even sure I had a glass of water handy. I was just popping things in my mouth and suffering the consequences. If you are inspired to likewise purge your pantries, learn from my mistake. A bubbly swig of beer could do wonders to disinfect tastebuds tainted by spent oyster crackers. (Matt wrinkled his nose just tipping the bag into the compost bin. Why didn’t I think to use my nose before popping one into my mouth?)

We employed a shelf-at-a-time strategy to separate things into keep and “process”. (“Process” here means separate out compostable and recyclable parts for responsible disposal.) The most difficult thing I tried to process was a little container of concentrated liquid that is meant to be squeezed into water to make it flavored. This one was “iced tea” flavored, and continually peed brown liquid all over me the whole time I worked ever-so-dangerously with a knife to pry off its obstinate lid. The grape Gatorade powder that had become green and slightly malleable like old Playdoh while still maintaining that classic fake grape odor also was surprisingly difficult to process. I had to use a grapefruit spoon to scrape it from its recyclable container. Meanwhile, Matt was nearby unsuccessfully using a meat fork to stab at the hardened contents of an instant iced tea jar.

Green grape Gatorade

Do you remember the Snyder’s honey mustard and onion pretzel pieces from last time? Yeah, Matt didn’t either. They expired in September of 2013.

One of my favorite finds was a desiccated little potato. “Good word,” Matt said when I showed him the dusty skin before depositing it into the compost bin.

During that fall 2013 purge, we thought the cake mix that expired in November 2011 was probably still okay. But now 3 years later, it seems like we never really wanted lemon cake after all. Matt points to himself and pouts “But I did!” I take no responsibility for this. I toss the bag of mix into the trash and the box into the recycle. “Wait,” says Matt, “where are the scissors? I don’t like to confine things to death in plastic.” He cuts open the bag of mix and frees it from a sealed death.

The Kroger brand jello that expired in April ’02 doesn’t get a pass this time, either. Matt pleads innocence, saying it never sounded good (pineapple orange), but I know I’m the one who bought it. Matt does some math. “That’s before I even knew you!” Me: toothy grin.

An open box of Chick-Fri last good in 2008. What were we thinking last time? Simultaneously, Matt asks, “How did the minute rice survive when it expired in 2009?” To make us feel better about our past selves, he hypothesizes that maybe some items escape into a secret hiding place when the purge happens.

Upon examining a box of barbecue chicken seasoning mix, I realize it is full of bug holes and reflexively drop the box onto the floor. I pick it up and re-aim my drop over the trash bin this time.

The beer bread mix with no expiration date was flagged for immediate consumption. I would guess it’s circa 2013. It smelled so good while it was baking! But, SPOILER ALERT, tasted like garbage. I don’t think it was the fault of the expired beer we used in it, but whatever, now that can of beer we never wanted and the beer bread mix we never ate are both gone. Hooray! And I bought some new self-rising flour so we can make fresh, tasty beer bread and right the wrongs we perpetrated on our senses.

(I used my difficult-to-focus wide-angle lens to show off the new hooks and open floor.)

With any luck that’s the last you’ll hear of our pantry, maybe ever! We’ll keep the flours free of bugs, and the jello manufactured in this decade, at least.

Who am I kidding? All it will take is tea to go on sale 2 for $4 and we’re goners.

Letters From Santa (a seasonally appropriate flash fiction story) by Rachel Dull

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Mon, 05 Dec 2016 21:09:00 +0000

At half past 11, I snuck downstairs to filch the enormous sugar cookie with green frosting that my baby sister, Isabelle, had left out for Santa Claus. I had already poured myself a glass of fresh milk before heading into the living room, which was lit by the cozy Christmas tree lights we had left on so Santa could navigate the floor plan when he arrived. I paused in front of the twinkling beacon, holding the magic of Christmas in its ornament-laden boughs. It felt so peaceful in the tree’s halo that I sighed with contentment as I reached for the plate on the side table by the chair. My fingers had just curled around the wreath cookie waiting for me these past 4 hours when a commotion caused me to dropped the stolen goods and jump back in fear as a man’s voice bellowed out “Ho! Ho! Ho!” and a mechanized Santa began to sway his hips and dance to “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”.

I hardly knew a sound had escaped my lips, but my younger brother, sitting across the room with a video recorder trained on my every move, described it as the whinny of a horse crossed with the wheeze of our elderly grandfather when he gets out of bed. “Gotcha!” Davey called. I came out of my trembling crouch and recognized the horrible Santa mannequin that our mother had purchased once at a garage sale, and every year insisted on putting out on our front porch to greet holiday visitors who came to call. My brother, in his comedic wisdom, had relocated the devil for the express purpose of catching me in the act of stealing Santa’s cookie and giving me a fright. “Just wait until I show Isabelle!” he cackled, skipping past me, and swiping the cookie before heading back to his room.

As the robotic Santa finished his dance and clicked off, I stood there staring at an empty-but-for-crumbs plate illuminated in the glow of the tree that had lured me into a false sense of security with its angelic topper and glittery tinsel. After Isabelle saw that video, not even the large box I put under the tree with her name on it would win back her love. I drank my milk and pondered for a moment, then pulled a charred bit of wood from the fireplace and tucked it into Davey’s stocking with the following note: “Davey, I know you ate my cookie. I can’t take your presents back now, but consider this bit of coal a warning for next year. I’ll be watching. —Santa.” And then I tucked a special note into Isabelle’s stocking that said, “Dear Isabelle, your brothers mean well, they just make bad choices sometimes. Keep on loving them, just like I do, and they will come around. Don’t give up hope! Especially on Logan. He’s a good brother. Love, Santa.” That’ll teach Davey to mess with Santa, I thought, mechanized or otherwise.

Rachel Dull, writer personality

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Fri, 14 Oct 2016 14:45:00 +0000

For some time I have been planning to make a website to present a professional “Rachel Dull, writer personality” to the internet. At last, it is live. There you can find a list of my short story publications as well as another blog I am writing to keep interested persons informed of my publication and writing exploits. I’m still figuring out what the difference is between the two blogs, but I think it’s that The Merest Idea is for RB and LB to learn to work together and give them each a chance to exhibit, whereas the other blog will be more writing focused. I would not be surprised if in time I needed to merge these concepts because keeping one blog is hard enough, but for now the division seemed necessary to keep both unshackled from the limitations of the other (i.e. Left Brain asked me to). Also, I don’t know what I’m doing.

If you have enjoyed my writing here, I hope you will enjoy my writing about writing over there. And I’ll be sure to let you know when I start my next blog, which will probably be writing about writing about writing, because going meta is my defense mechanism.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Sun, 25 Sep 2016 18:09:00 +0000

It's the most wonderful time of the year--where I borrow a song and re-write the lyrics as an ode to my favorite season! This year, please imagine Johnny Mathis belting it out (with more enthusiasm than he mustered for his Oprah performance in 1991).

Autumn, The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It's the most wonderful time of the year
With the football fans yelling
And everyone telling you winter is near
It’s the most wonderful time of the year

It's the pump-pumpkinest season of all
With those kids trick-or-treating and bold colors fleeting
When leaves start to fall
It's the pump-pumpkinest season of all

There’ll be apples for picking
And ciders for drinking
And frolicking out in the leaves
There’ll be donuts for snacking, swim
suits we’ll be packing to
Make room for all the long sleeves

It's the most wonderful time of the year
There’ll be bonfires glowing
And crisp breezes blowing
When autumn is here
It's the most wonderful time
Yes the most wonderful time
Oh the most wonDERful time
Of the year!

Pocket!

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Sat, 27 Aug 2016 20:04:00 +0000

It was a rainy day so I decided to sew a pocket into a skirt I have been wearing a lot this summer. I hardly want to buy anything anymore WITHOUT pockets, but I still have plenty of clothes that I purchased pre-Pocket Awakening, and every time I wear them I wonder if there isn’t a way to just stitch a fold in there for my lip balm at least.

This skirt's getting an upgrade!

My first idea was to steal the pocket pattern from a pants patterned I already owned, but when I got out the pattern, I realized it was for cargo pants from the 90s and the pocket for those pants might be a bit much (seen below, on left). Instead I found a dress with a pocket that works well and traced its pocket onto a scrap of tracing paper I found on top of the sewing room garbage (seen below, center). Then I sat back in awe of the size difference and lamented that smart phones and cargo pants weren’t in vogue simultaneously.

The fabric I used for my pocket fell off of the fabric shelf when I was pawing through the patterns. It is a piece of leftover muslin that happened to be the PERFECT size for one pocket. (My fabric shelves are a disaster right now and I often walk in to find fabrics in a heap on the floor. I think the cat tries to sit in there sometimes. But I wanted to be honest with you about how I make decisions while sewing, and more often than not it’s based on ready accessibility and chance.)

I ironed the muslin, pinned the pattern onto it, and then cut it out.

Next, I had to rip out the seam on the edge of the skirt where I wanted to place my pocket. I only ripped out a section just long enough for the pocket because, while it is easier to put in a pocket with completely detached front and back pieces of skirt, I didn’t want to take out the elastic and all that because I don’t like seam ripping THAT much. It had both a straight stitch and a serger stitch, so it took a little bit of work to get all the stitches out, but fortunately I am very experienced in seam ripper usage from many errant seams over the years. Running the seam ripper through the serged stitches worked pretty well.

Then I pinned the pocket to the skirt, right sides together. (That’s a lie. I first pinned the pocket wrong sides together, sewed it, and then had to seam rip it all out when I realized I’d done it wrong.) I placed one pocket piece on the front of the skirt, and one on the back. I used a 3/8” seam allowance and sewed the two pieces into place.

The next step was to attached the two sides of the pocket together. I turned the skirt inside out, aligned the two halves of the pocket, and pinned. I stitched around the outside of the pocket, also using a 3/8” seam allowance. (The bottom and the top where the stitches meet up with the side seam on the skirt are always a mystery to me when installing pockets, so I did my best and cleaned up the gaps later.)

Finally, it’s the moment of truth! I turned the skirt right side out and tried it on. I was happy to find out that I had put my pocket on the right side even though I had forgotten to check when I started. I look forward to wearing this skirt again soon where I can keep my phone and lip balm close at hand throughout the day!

They Sent Us to College

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Wed, 03 Aug 2016 00:02:00 +0000

They sent us to college to get diplomas and jobs from which we could retire, but instead we got opinions and debt. We job hop and get laid off and change our careers every other year, eschewing the stability for which they worked their entire lives. They told us we could be anything so we wanted to try everything. And they probably feel let down by all this. They probably think they failed, and we’re failing, and we just don’t get it. But we feel empowered. We feel liberated. Like we really do get it. We get all of it. We are alive and making our own decisions. We are trying new things and changing our minds. We are free to be anything and think anything and marry whomever we please. But one day when our kids grow up and put into practice all the things we thought we were teaching them over the years, we’ll be just as surprised as our parents were with us. The things we valued will be cast aside as they grow into their own strengths, test their own ideas, and live the lives stretched out before them, full of promise. We’ll ask ourselves “What went wrong?” and “How can they live like that?” as we take refuge in the boxes we’ve built from our experiences and settle down on the securely anchored cushions of our worldview where it is safe.

Words: about the ones I can't find to explain myself well, and the ones I can't spell

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Sun, 27 Mar 2016 03:53:00 +0000

I don't even feel like I can put into words. Not enough thoughts to compute—just a general feeling of being not good enough at things I've said, ideas I've expressed. I've tried to capture them before they were fully formed and I made a bad image. But I don't have time or wherewithal to properly form good thoughts before I have to speak them.

"Before we can get all the facts, we may be going to have to act." —They Might Be Giants

I am torn and pulled in different directions. My mind cannot settle on one idea long enough to do anything about it. Dart, flit, swoosh, and I'm off to a new idea. I will paint my nails. Write a letter. Eat a snack. Tweet. Write a blog post about how I never liked the illustrations accompanying Shel Silverstein poems. Write a blog post about words I can't spell, like "occasion". Reminisce (<-- not confident on that one either) about how when I wanted to thank accompanists in high school for playing piano for me, I always had to write "Thanks for playing piano for me" because I never, and still haven't, learned how to spell the word for the role they do. Don't write a blog post because no one cares about my quirky asides that are one sentence long and decidedly not worth an entire blog post. Write a blog post about how I always want to write blog posts to have an excuse to tell people my quirky asides. Don't write a blog post, just say my asides randomly to my spouse who is across the room and who will probably love me anyway, even if I say things completely out of context and annoy him by interrupting what he is reading. Is this a blog post? I can't post this—it's the pointless ramblings of a restless person who drank coffee 13 hours ago and wonders if the caffeine (<--that one I can spell, oddly) is just now kicking in. But what if it has comedic value? As soon as you ask that it doesn't. But what if other people sometimes feel the same way? But what if they don't and I look like an idiot who talks to herself?

I write for the case of "just in case": "Just in case I'm not alone on this." I write to make connections with people. I write because I want to say the "connections" thing better but I'm having trouble sentencing today.

All spellings checked and corrected before publication. (Thanks, red squiggly line!)

Bonus quirky aside: What's with cookbooks without pictures? I'm already trying to imagine what a recipe going to taste like and now you want me to imagine what it is going to look like, too?

26 Books in 2015: A Follow-up Interview with Andrea

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Fri, 25 Mar 2016 01:32:00 +0000

Last year, my friend Andrea decided to participate in a reading challenge she found on Pinterest: 26 books from different categories. All year I enjoyed asking her about what she was reading and hearing about her progress on the list. Below are the results of her year of reading along with her answers to a few questions I posed to her about the adventure.

Q: Did you ever think you weren't going to make it, or did you consider stopping at any point?
A: Towards the end I got a little nervous about finishing, but I had such a fast start from the beginning of the year that it was never a huge concern (I finished on Christmas Eve). I never thought about quitting! Which I'm a little proud of because I quit lots of things.

1. A Book you own but haven't read:

Into the Wild

2. A Book that was made into a movie:

Paper Towns

3. A Book you pick solely because of the cover:

I'll Give You the Sun

4. A Book your friend loves:

Why not me?

5. A Book published this year:

All the Bright Places

6. A Book by an author you've never read before:

Red Rising

7. A Book at the bottom of the "to be read pile":

The President is a Sick Man

Q: Did you do any rating/reviews of the books?
A: No ratings/reviews in a formal sense (other than my Twitter review of The Scarlet Letter: "if you want an old book that takes 200 pages to get interesting, this one's for you!") Lots that I informally talked to friends about though throughout the year.

Q: What was your favorite book you read this year?
A: Picking a favorite book is hard. The book that stuck with me the most and that I still think about sometimes was Les Miserables. I don't know that I would ever read it again though, mostly because of the length so it's hard to call it my favorite. Maybe I could get one of those kid versions that's a bit condensed, though it probably wouldn't be as good. I really loved that one though—the way all the stories fit together and the redemption were great. Even the super long tangents weren't too bad! I became kind of obsessed with this story while I was reading it. I also really liked Modern Romance. That book was fascinating from a real life/science standpoint. Plus it was funny and entertaining to listen to (one of the audiobooks I "read"). I'd want to read it again because I feel like I can't remember all of the facts.

8. A Book with a color in the title:

The Devil in the White City

9. A Book set in a place you want to visit:

The Rosie Project (Australia)

10. A Book you started but never finished:

Guns, Germs and Steel

11. A Book with a lion, a witch or a wardrobe:

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (it has all three!)

12. A Book with a female heroine:

The Royal We

13. A Book set in the summer:

The Paying Guests

14. A Book "everyone" has read but you:

The Scarlet Letter

Q: What was your least favorite book you read this year?
A: Worst book—well, as you can tell from my Twitter review, I was not a fan of The Scarlet Letter. Thank God it was a short book because I wouldn't have made it through much more. The whole introduction of that book didn't make a lot of sense and I didn't feel like it really added to the story, but it was like at least 1/3 of the length of the book so I didn't feel like I could skip it. I also didn't like The Spy Who Came In From The Cold. Maybe I'm kinda dense, but I just didn't really get what was going on in a lot of that book. It was one I was supposed to read for a college class. I'm glad I didn't back then—I'm sure my time was spent better elsewhere.

Q: Which book surprised you the most?
A: The Devil in the White City surprised me, but not in a good way. I thought I would enjoy it a lot because I enjoy history and serial killers (not in a creepy way!) and I had heard very good reviews. I found it kind of slow though really wished that there was more about the serial killer and less about the financial woes of building a World's Fair. On the positive note though, the history in The President is a Sick Man was fascinating. My dad recommended the book to me and I thought he just liked it because it was partially about a journalist (dad's a writer), but the whole book was really interesting. There were weird medical procedures, US history, and presidents! Some of my favorite things. :)

15. A Book with a great first line:

Modern Romance ("Many of the frustrations experienced by today's singles seem like problems unique to our time and technological setting: not hearing back on a text.") (or, if you count the introduction: "oh, shit!")

16. A Book with pictures:

Castle Waiting

17. A Book from the library:

The Rosie Effect

18. A Book you loved...read it again!:

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

19. A Book of Poems:

Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats

20. A Book you learned about because of this challenge:

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd

Q: Have you been able to lift your self-imposed book-buying ban yet??
A: I just bought a book yesterday! I still haven't made it all the way through my own bookshelf, but I decided it was okay to reward my efforts.

Q: What are some of your takeaways from this experience? Would you do it again?
A: Takeaway #1: I thought I would come away reading a whole bunch of different genres and liking lots of different stuff. While I did branch out a little in the genres I chose, at a certain point, you like what you like. And that's ok! I still enjoy memoirs and books by funny people most and have no interest in picking up another book of poetry any time soon. I like hearing peoples' stories, which is harder to get out of poetry.

Takeaway #2: There are a lot of good books out there! Every once in a while I should take a break from Netflix and get back into reading.

Takeaway #3: Audiobooks aren't so bad...for a certain kind of book. I still will probably only choose audio for lighter books, mostly non-fiction, but I loved the efficiency of "reading" while walking to work.

I would totally do it again! I think I would want a different type of list, but sure!

21. A Book that will make you smarter:

What If?

22. A Book with a blue cover:

Wonder

23. A Book you were supposed to read in school but didn't:

The Spy Who Came in from the Cold

24. A Book more than 10 years old:

Les Miserables

25. A Book based on a true story:

Yes Please (Amy Poehler memoir)

26. A Book by an author you love:

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (JK Rowling)

Q: Any reading goals for 2016?
A: I told myself I would read 12 books that have been adapted into films. Then I would see the movie. (or that order might get reversed). I'm already behind schedule. :)

If you enjoyed reading about Andrea’s adventures in reading, then perhaps you would also enjoy my friend, Kate’s, blog. She reads and reviews a ton of books, and completed her own reading challenge last year, and is doing it again this year.

Yuri Ran a Marathon: The Interview

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Fri, 04 Dec 2015 22:32:00 +0000

Just before I dig in to eat a pile of greasy fries and a giant bacon cheeseburger, I'm likely to turn to whoever I'm with and say guiltily, "Don't tell Yuri." The truth is, Yuri isn't one to judge—she lets me be me—but I've accidentally attributed to her that voice in my head that nags me to exercise and eat better. In real life, she is more encouraging, and always willing to share her boiled chicken. She is also a great resource for guessing the amount of calories in something, or discussing exercise strategies. I am grateful to have her as my friend and healthy role model, and so happy she agreed to let me interview her about her experience running the Chicago Marathon in October.

R: What made you decide to train for and run a marathon?

Y: I think it was late spring/early summer of 2014 (May/June), after I completed a half, my trainer Alex said to a few of us casually that he'd run a marathon with us if we choose to do one. I took that as a challenge and decided shortly after that conversation that I wanted to train and complete one. Nobody else took him up on that. I injured myself for the 2014 season and Alex ended up taking my place and ran the Capital City River Run. I signed up for the Chicago Marathon next season.

R: I remember you saying once that you didn't see yourself as a runner. Do you now?

Y: I still don't consider myself a "runner", only because my definition of a "runner" is very narrow. People who live and breathe running, and all the strength training and other forms of fitness-related endeavors to make them a better runner—that's not me. I use running as a tool to become healthier and stronger.

Yuri in blue at center. Photo courtesy of Nick.

R: What motivated you to keep going after your injury, and through the long months of training?

Y: Once I decided that I was going to run it, it wasn't an option for me to not go through with it. I had a training plan, and I was convinced that I would only succeed by following the training plan.

R: What was the strategy behind your training regime? How much did you run per week? Did you pretty much stick to it?

Y: Since I got injured the first time around for running too much too soon (I decided to do a marathon too late to properly train for my fitness level at the time), the strategy this time was to start early and build mileage slowly, with enough rest. Alex created the training plan for me, so all I had to do was execute it. At my peak, I ran about 45 miles in a week. I stuck to the plan for the most part, except a few times when I wanted to attend CTL demo classes when I was supposed to run. Also toward the end of my training when my legs were not cooperating, I had to take a break a week or two leading up to the race instead of tapering to prevent injury.

R: What were the practical things you had to think about during your training, like time management or caloric intake or the like?

Y: I had to plan ahead about when I was going to run at least a day in advance. I had to coordinate with my husband Nick to make sure the pups were taken care of. (There is NO way I could have done it without his support.) I had to check the weather to see if it was going to rain, or how hot it was going to be, and when it was going to get dark. I also had to plan when I was going to eat before, during, and after for the long runs. For the long runs beyond 10 miles, I always created a fueling plan so I knew when I was going to consume what during the run. In terms of deciding how many calories were appropriate for me to consume, again I was fortunate enough to have a trainer who figured all of that out for me. He did the hard part of planning everything for me. All I had to do was follow.

Photo courtesy of Nick.

R: What was the best part about this whole experience?

Y: The crazy amount of support I got from so many people. Starting with Nick and Alex, and friends like you (Rachel!), many people who donated money to my ACS TeamDetermination fund raising efforts, to spectators who were cheering me on.

R: What advice would you give to anyone thinking about training for a long race?

Y: Make sure you are able to make time for training. If you have kids/pets, do you have a family/friends who can watch them when you train? If your work is crazy busy, can you make time to get your training in? Everyone is busy. But training takes time, and you have to be able to make time, and not feel guilty for spending the time training. For me, I made sure I was committed, but also double and triple checked with Nick that he was ok with this since this impacted his daily life as well.

R: Would you do it again?

Y: I think so. If I get another opportunity to spend a few months training.

R: What's your next big goal?

Y: I want to do the Urbanathlon! I have some strength-based goals that are pretty big, but I tend to get more excited about "events". My guess is I do better when there are deadlines associated with my goals.

R: An Urbanathlon sounds cool and scary! Is this like the Men's Healthy sponsored one I found when I Googled?

Y: It is! They used to have one in Chicago, but they didn't do it this year. I'm hoping they'll bring it back next year. I have to get some other people to do it with me. This is one of those things you don't do alone. But I really want to do it, so I WILL convince someone to do it with me.

R: What did you learn about yourself through this process?

Y: Apparently I do not put my all out there. Even though I was exhausted after the marathon, I knew I still had reserves left in the tank. I'm trying to figure out how to give 100% for better performance.

Yuri at Mile 26. Official race photo.

R: That's really interesting. Matt has said before that he never likes to use up all his energy because he likes to know he has a little left over in case he really needs it. I guess that would be like if he finished a workout but then unexpectedly a bear started chasing him? I also tend to keep some energy in reserve, but only until the end when I sprint most of it off.

Y: I did "sprint" at the end, but at that point my body didn't listen. But I didn't feel like death. I guess for something like a marathon it's ok to reserve your energy since you'd have to practice more to know how you can race so you have just enough to be able to finish an endurance event like that. But I'd like to be able to give it my all on my other stuff where it's less critical if I can't "finish". I think it all stems from my fear of failure. I'm working on it.

R: What did it feel like to cross the finish line at the end of the marathon?

Y: I didn't really have an epic "I did it!" moment. I remember just trying to get out of other finishers' way, and trying to figure out where I needed to go to meet up with Nick and Alex. Unfortunately the first "feeling" I clearly remember is that of being annoyed that I had to walk really far to get to the designated meeting area. And then there were a few steps we had to go down and that was unpleasant. Sense of accomplishment and all that didn't really come until I saw Nick and Alex.

Nick, Yuri, and Alex after the race. Photo courtesy of Alex McBrairty.

R: How did you celebrate your accomplishments that day and even in the next few weeks?

Y: I ate a cheeseburger and some ice cream "pie" for dinner. Then I took a week off from exercising. I guess that wasn't a celebration as much as my body didn't really do much. But the celebration part was to not feel guilty about not exercising! The moment I actually felt like I accomplished something didn't come until weeks later. I was driving all over Ann Arbor/Saline to run errands, and it seemed like I was driving forever, but it was only 18 miles. It was a "holy shit, I ran a lot" moment.

R: What place did you come in and would you mind if I include that? I thought it was neat how high (relatively) you placed for your first marathon.

Y: I don't mind at all but it's not very good.
Gender 12209/17253
Division 2088/2915
Overall 28845/37438
Finish Time 05:15:38

R: I think they're lovely. And thanks!

Y: Now that I've rested for a while, it's the "I can do so much better" side that's coming out of me!

NaNoWriMo 2015

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Mon, 30 Nov 2015 19:17:00 +0000

The thing about the last 1000 words or so is that you can’t wait to be done. You want to cash in your chips and call it close enough. But that word count validator is a binary thing: you either have the 1000 words or you don’t.

NaNoWriMo is a feat of strength more than anything skill-based. It’s a test and exercise of will power, and an opportunity to find out what you’re willing to give up in order to stick to this arbitrary goal. I do it to maybe find a new story to tell, but mostly I do it to teach myself how to just do it. Can it be that writing is more practice than actual performance? Surely, as it is the same with playing a musical instrument. Many thousands of words and hours go into learning how to write, and streamlining the story, and even hitting the keys quicker so that when the story is unspooling as fast as a dropped spool of thread bouncing and rolling across a hardwood floor, you can keep up with it and get it all down. (I’m still working on writing analogy—need a lot more practice there!)

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank you for being patient with me while I went through this intensive training period again this year. Patient while you listened to me spout off about what I was writing or the writing process. Patient while you waited for another blog post to show up (if you’re one of those two people who prefer not to use RSS feed readers). Patient while I stressed out and whined about being behind on my word count, which I was the entire month until the end. I tried not to sound like I wasn’t enjoying it. Sometimes it helps to recognize that it is hard even if I am pretty sure I’m going to finish successfully.

I’m excited that it’s about to be over for another year, though, just as soon as I compose 600 more words in some medium or another. I’m not a stickler for all 50,000 of my words being part of the same story arc. As long as they are part of composed sentences that took some thought and effort to produce, I’m cool with counting them. This year among my 50,000 words are a little bit of poetry, a Christmas newsletter I may or may not send out once I have time, and this blog post. In the past I have even counted long emails if they were written to convey ideas requiring more thought that reporting on the status of the weather. The only downside to putting forth effort to write long emails and Christmas newsletters and blog posts during NaNoWriMo is that I have to turn the inner editor back on a least a little bit for the sake of the reader of that particular set of words. For the bulk of the story writing for NaNoWriMo, the inner editor only gets nominal input while the words are spurting forth from my fingertips onto the screen (if I haven’t finished the sentence yet, sometimes I’ll allow myself to change a few of the words or backspace it entirely).

I’ve still got just under 400 more words to go and it would feel abusive to my readership if I rambled on just to get the word count. So I’ll try to come up with a little story. Forgive me if I end mid-sentence, though, because when I reach 50,000 words I’m likely going to stop and have a little dance break. If you want to join along when I get there, I’m planning on playing They Might Be Giants’s Dr. Worm, or maybe Weezer’s My Name is Jonas. Oh, or maybe some Adele because I’ve fallen under her spell again. Anyway, I said I wouldn’t ramble so here goes:

    “If I get hit by a bus, I just want you to be able to figure out how to run the timesheet reports. That’s why I’m explaining this to you now,” Michelle said, closing a file on her computer and folding her hands together on her desk. “Does that make sense?”
    “If you get hit by a bus, I don’t think anybody will care about the timesheet reports because we’ll be too busy mourning your tragic death,” I said.
    “Wow, I didn’t say the bus was going to kill me,” she said. “I just meant if I wasn’t in to work for a while, somebody should know how to do this.”
    I was pretty sure the odds of getting hit by a bus and living to run the timesheet reports again in the future were pretty small, but I let it slide by saying, “Okay, thanks. Let’s hope I never have to run it without you.”
    “Come on, it’s not that bad. You just have to make sure you deselect “Other” first, and then type everybody’s names in correctly before hitting the ‘compile’ button. It only takes about 30 minutes for it to run. You can do it,” Michelle said, going through the motions on her computer again.
    I sighed. “It’s not that it seems hard, I’m just saying, I hope I don’t have to do it because I hope you’re not incapacitated, decapitated, or otherwise unable to do it yourself.”
    Michelle frowned, “Thanks, I guess, but you don’t have to be so morbid about it.”

Gah!! Here’s the thing about NaNoWriMo and word counts: every program counts words differently. I’m not sure what the nuances are, I just know that when I went to validate my text on the official NaNoWriMo website, it said I needed 97 more words. I knew this, see, so I wrote until I had 50,104 words in my writing program, figuring it would cover me, but when I exported it to Word, I only had 49,922 words, and when I pasted it into the official word count validator website for NaNaWriMo, I only had 49,903! The algorithms are apparently grossly different! But, never fear, this paragraph will seal the deal. :)

A Year Ago

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Thu, 08 Oct 2015 00:48:00 +0000

It’s been a year since the culmination of 2 pretty bad things played out in my life. It feels weird to say that I don’t mind recalling that time, and there may even be some fondness in my recollection. I don’t mean to be disrespectful to my dad, whom I lost very quickly and in the midst of my own health issues, but looking back on that time is not just a reminder of loss, but also one of love and coming together of people who loved and supported me through it all. How can I not think about that outpouring of love and not be moved to tears? I want to always remember all the good and the bad and the weird about that time.

I want to remember how my sister would begin emails that contained updates about my dad's failing health with pictures of puppies and kittens being adorable and non-stressful.

I want to remember the crazy/fun trip we took to Chicago with McLaine and Andrew and Andrea and Phil for Mer's birthday party after I’d finally discovered the cause of my health issues was a giant cyst on my ovary, but didn’t know what would happen next. How we rented the van; the amazing generosity of Ryan and the food and drinks; being saved by Aubrey; Joy showing us around her ‘hood; carrying a giant cake through the Chicago night life.

I want to remember the vacation Matt and I and his mom and sister took to California the week before it all went down. How we stayed with family we’d never met who turned out to be awesome and fun and so generous and kind; reconnecting with old friends; finding out about the local earthquake from CTAY across the country.

I want to remember how I didn’t have time to dread or fear or overthink or overplan the surgery because the surgeon had an opening for the very next day. I want to remember how we went out to Zingerman’s Roadhouse the night before and had whiskey because we hadn’t fully read the pre-surgery paperwork yet that said not to have any alcohol the day before.

I want to remember how my sister drove and drove and drove back and forth across the Midwest to be with the people she loved when they needed her most.

I want to remember waking up after surgery feeling I must be okay even if I was missing an unknown number of organs (and finding out it was only one organ of consequence by overhearing a nurse whisper it to another nurse when they changed shifts). I want to remember how I finally regain enough consciousness to realize my glasses were resting on my chest so I could put them on when I woke up.

I want to remember the first time I stood up again after my surgery and felt like I was a chest and some legs attached by only the most tenuous connection in between, as if my whole abdomen had been scooped out of my body. I want to remember how thankful I was that my family took me home to care for me (to measure out my meds, and help me get out of bed, and bring me food, and do my dishes) because I felt truly helpless on my own.

I want to remember how my sister loaned me her iPad to play Threes, and how I was playing it when she got the call that she needed to go back to Allegan immediately. I want to remember how my heart raced knowing my dad had reached the end of his fight. And I want to remember how my heart ached for my sister who had driven so much in so few days, and had to travel alone again, because I was too weak to make the trip with her.

I want to remember how my mom told me the next morning, in the gentlest way she could, that my dad had died. I want to remember how I couldn’t let myself cry because it hurt my mending insides too damn much.

I want to remember the first time the doorbell rang and it was flowers for me, and then the second and the third and the fourth… I had no idea people would send me flowers and I felt so awed by their thoughtfulness. I want to remember all the wonderful people who told me they loved me in cards and gifts and texts and visits.

I want to remember how my sister drove back to me before finally heading home. I want to remember how Jen brought her a care package before she left, because she could see that my sister needed just as much care as me.

I want to remember how CTAY texted me almost every day to see how I was doing.

I want to remember how Matt cared for me for days without complaining, tracking my my meds, handing me stuff, and letting me feel however I needed to feel. And how he trusted me home alone with the internet and the credit cards when I started to get better but was still housebound.

I want to remember how people made us food, and sent us food, and had food delivered, and drove through football traffic to bring us food, and came over at lunch to eat with me, and made me laugh even though they knew they shouldn’t.

I want to remember how Kezia visited me and helped me read through leave of absence paperwork and built me a spreadsheet to calculate time off.

I want to remember how I didn’t have the focus to read anything so I binged on Netflix and John Oliver while I plotted and executed the most elaborate Halloween costume I’d ever devised.

I want to remember how I picked out some mums for my dad’s grave, and how I was brave and shoveled dirt onto it.

I want to remember how my sister persevered even though nobody would have blamed her for flipping out at any point across August through October when she had to be everywhere and handle everything and take on other people’s stress and make decisions and deal with things going wrong and watch helplessly as people she loved were broken and lost.

I want to remember all those things so I don’t forget why I’m a different person than I used to be. So that when someone else is going through something hard, I can reach out and share love with them, so they too will be able to look back and remember their trials with a bittersweet fondness despite the pain, knowing they were supported and not alone.

If you prayed for me, or cared for me, or spent even a passing thought on me last year, Thank You. I could not have gotten here without you. If you prayed that I would come through my hard times knowing I was loved and not alone, your prayers were answered, and I never want to forget.

Autumn I'm In Love

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Mon, 24 Aug 2015 21:14:00 +0000

This might be a pinch premature, but today as I wrote outside wearing my favorite sweatshirt, this is what my heart sang to me:

Autumn I’m in Love
(apologies to The Cure for this Friday I’m In Love re-write…)

I don’t care if Summer’s blue
Winter grey and freezing, too
Springtime I don’t care about you
It’s Autumn I’m in love.

Snowmen you can fall apart
April showers break my heart
May flowers don’t even start
It’s Autumn I’m in love.

December wait
And Christmas always comes too late
September never hesitate…

I don’t care if Summer’s hot
Winter days are full of rot
Springtime bulbs in every lot
It’s Autumn I’m in love.

Spring rain falling on your head
Snowy winter stay in bed
Summer sunburn turns you red
It’s Autumn I’m in love!

December wait
And Christmas always comes too late
September never hesitate…

Just look to the skies
It’s a wonderful surprise
To see a breeze and a full moon rise
Gourds and apples abound
Crunching leaves on the ground
Pumpkin lattes and pies all around the town
Donuts, take a big bite
It’s such a gorgeous sight
To drink mulled cider on a brisk fall night
You can never get enough
Enough of this stuff
It’s Autumn I’m in love!

I don’t care if Summer’s blue
Winter grey and freezing, too
Springtime I don’t care about you
It’s Autumn I’m in love.

Snowmen you can fall apart
April showers break my heart
May flowers don’t even start
It’s Autumn I’m in love.

Mr. Porter's Famous Wagon Sale

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Mon, 13 Jul 2015 19:02:00 +0000

My friend Nick is more on top of his photos than anyone I know. Whenever he goes to some event or place that might be interesting, he brings his camera along, slung across his chest like a bandolier. I mention that last part only because I am so amazed at how fast he can wriggle his arm into and out of the camera strap when he is ready to go or to take a picture (though in crowds I've sometimes seen him skillfully shoot from the chest to avoid that maneuver). Within hours, I'll receive a notification that a photo album is up online, or see individual pictures posted to Facebook or on Instagram. By contrast, I've been meaning to put photos up in this blog post for about 2 weeks, and to the chagrin of our parents, the photos from our wedding almost 8 years ago have never been made into a sharable album.

A staple of the long summer holiday weekends in Allegan is Richard Porter's wagon sale. Over the weekend of July 4th, my mom, my sister, Matt, and I drove out there to see what treasures Mr. Porter had collected from the various estates he had purchased and spread out on the beds of wagons in his expansive lawn for our perusal.

One of several rows of wagons, not to mention the barn filled with furniture.

Avocado green fuzzy bathroom scale. Quite narrow!

Let's not go hunting and say we did by hanging others' trophy antlers on our walls.

This little guy had a slit in the back of his head to accept your coins.

Vintage wools and furs hung on many of the wagons going for a fraction of their original cost at $25.

Mishka, the mascot of the 1980 Moscow Olympic Games. Wait, didn't we boycott that one?

My mom and Matt shopping, with bonus photobomb by longtime family friend, Ray, because you always see someone you know at the wagon sale! (Or the belongings or photos or pill containers of someone you know who has recently deceased...)

Can anyone explain to me what is going on in this picture?

Nun doll!

Another woman and I were both considering this box, but all the fabric was frighteningly polyester.

She's been haunting my dreams ever since.

Later that day my mom said she wished she had a sprinkler, and made me wish I'd picked up this cute little guy for her.

Steampunk biplane out of watch parts! Pretty neat, actually.

Creepy wooden pointing-toe ashtray. Because why?


What we actually purchased. My sister gifted me the picture. The bottle says "Up John" on it.

If you see anything here you can't live without, you can always try to find it at the next wagon sale over Labor Day weekend! :D

The Half Marathon

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Tue, 09 Jun 2015 04:14:00 +0000

I did it! I ran 13.1 miles in one go—in the rain no less! The funny thing is, when you train for something, it kind of just feels like no big deal when you accomplish it, because it isn’t as hard as it seemed before you began training for it. I think I held onto the notion that it was going to be nigh impossible, or at least hellish, until maybe mile 6 of the race, at which point I lost track of how far I had come and how far I had left to go (because it is hard to slowly count to 13 over the course of 2 hours) and just enjoyed it. Yes, I know, it’s disgusting, but I actually enjoyed it, rain and all.

As of the Thursday before the race, the forecast was 60s and sunny. On Friday, I checked again and saw that my perfect race day weather had deteriorated to 50s and 60% chance of rain. By Saturday, it was low 50s with 100% chance of rain during the whole of the race. I began to panic. I had no idea what to do in those conditions as I had carefully avoided rain during the whole of my 7 week training. I googled all kinds of advice about running in the rain, texted my runner friend Yuri to corroborate my research, and just generally whined and fretted constantly for the next 24 hours that I would be miserable the whole time and I had no idea why I was doing this anyway. But I felt better as soon as I got to the starting line and saw what everybody else was wearing. I’ve never seen so many different ways to wear a plastic bag: in shoes, on head (shower cap?), with arms tucked inside, with arm holes cut out, cropped around the waist… Most people compensated for the rain not at all, or with these variously worn plastic bags. Very few people had on the rain gear I envisioned for myself and felt sure everyone else who was experienced would be wearing.

Pre-race dry photo

In the end, I was pleased with my own choice of clothing. My long-sleeve shirt retained some of my heat, but only a thin layer of water. It didn’t chaff. There was no question about whether I would wear my favorite running pants with pocket big enough for my phone, but when my underwear got soaked through, I sometimes had trouble getting all my wet layers to feel comfortable around my waist. I used a plastic bag to protect my phone, which was effective, but I only had a quart-size instead of a sandwich-sized one and so it sort of was too big. The obnoxious orange wool socks I chose were good for not chaffing or retaining too much water, and I pulled them up like a dweeb to cover the skin between my shoes and my pants. Having a hat was clutch, which kept my eyebrows dry and diverted water to drip off the bill instead of my nose.

Mid-race, but still smiling

Due to the cold and rain, my legs were numb from a very early point in the race, so I just ignored them and let them carry me in the current of the other runners. Being surrounded by moving people makes it easier to feel like you also should be moving. I was surprised to realize that at no point during the race did I think I wouldn’t make it—I’ve been on 3-mile runs and been convinced for 95% of it that I wouldn’t last—and I only really wanted to stop at Mile 11 because my right knee was tight and starting to hurt. Speaking of Mile 11, that’s about when everybody starts to pick it up and you are passed by people you passed miles ago. This was humbling, but my knee and my memory of the famous hill at the end kept me going my same steady pace.

Official stats

According to the MapMyRun app on my phone, I was running about a 9:45 min/mile pace, but I was reaching the miles sooner and sooner before the official mile markers on the road, and in the end MapMyRun recorded my run as a bit longer than 13.1 miles. Hard to say why it was off from the official race time/distance, which put me at 9:55 min/mile. Either way, a good pace, and I hit my secondary goal of under 10 min/miles, which I honestly thought was a long shot (primary goal was just to finish!), especially in the rain.

MapMyRun stats

The hill at the end did not impress me after all the hype (The 2nd-to-last hill on the other hand…). In any case, being able to see the finish line was very motivating. When I train, I just listen for the lady in my ear (i.e. MapMyRun) to tell me when I have completed my milage, so it was nice to have a fixed point to focus on, and I was able to dig deep to find some hidden strength to kick it up a few notches as I approached the line. Once I decide to do that, no one passes me anymore, and I’m that annoying person who swoops in and passes people at the finish line, not because I am attempting to beat them, but because they slowed down. What can I say, my Track and Field background taught me to leave it all on the track and push to the finish no matter the place. Plus it feels incredible to run fast (for short distances). If you are able, I encourage you to do it for like 3 seconds sometime. The wind on your face, the feeling of your legs cranking as fast as they can go… But seriously, why don’t more people sprint at the end? It’s like the best part.

My cheering section for the day was the brave duo of Matthew and Julie, who came out to cheer me on somewhere in the middle and who met me at the finish line with warm hugs and dry towels. It was a surprise and delight to see my loved ones mid-race, and a relief to be led to a warm, dry car at the end. If I hadn’t begun to feel a chill, I may have checked out the beer tent, and if the sun had been shining, we may have stayed for Taste of Ann Arbor so I could have worn my finisher’s medal around town with pride, but alas. I have no plans and no expectations of my future running/exercise goals right now, but maybe I’ll be back next year. Hard to say. Watch this space for more details!

Post-race hugs

Run

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Fri, 22 May 2015 17:46:00 +0000

I am presently training for a half marathon. I'm not entirely sure why. I guess it's kind of because I can, and sort of to prove something to myself, and also because it's good to challenge yourself, and maybe because I wanted to accomplish something of note in running before I give it up for something different because running is so dang boring. If I think about it too hard, especially while I am in the middle of a run, none of it seems quite worth it. I would still be a fine person if I never ran 13.1 miles in one go. Holy poopers, 13.1 miles??? Why am I doing this?? That's so long! So boring! So bad for my knees! (It's best if I don't mention the number of miles to myself. "Half marathon" sounds better. It just sounds like "a run" and not "over 2 hours of the same monotonous activity that sometimes hurts".)

Anyway, where was I? Oh right. I'd still be a fine person if I had dedicated these 6 weeks of training so far toward something else. My novel, perhaps. Or making my home and yard into an efficient, clean, polished specimen of modern dwelling. Actually, I'm not so sure about the 2nd one. I think housework is what I give up first when I make time to exercise (though obviously some of it still does get done since I gotta do laundry so I have non-stinky clothes to run in), but if my bills were all filed and my hedges perfectly trimmed and the path to my front door was a mosaic of pavers instead of a muddy patch of dirt and a pile of broken concrete, how is that furthering the human race any more than one person running for exercise? They both have value, but they're apples and oranges. So I'd still be a fine person either way. But whatever, I'm 6 weeks into a 7 week training so I'm committed now.

I could ramble on about my history of running and what it might mean to be doing this now, and who I have been encouraged by, and what my goals are for the race, etc. etc., but I'll save that for my acceptance speech when they hand me my medal after crossing the finish line at the top of that big hill on Main St. next Sunday. Instead, I'll leave you with this picture of what satisfaction looks like after having run 8 continuous miles for the first time.

But you know what else is a good picture? This picture of what exhaustion looks like after having traversed 10 miles by foot for the first time. In contrast, 10 miles didn't feel satisfying as much as "Oh thank God I made it back to the car and can stop now!"

I hope somebody takes the time to chalk up the half marathon route with inspirational sayings like this one that several weeks ago propelled me on to my fastest 5k time:

IT DID YOU!

An Interview with Little Leviathan

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Mon, 27 Apr 2015 15:03:00 +0000

Several years ago, I had the opportunity to interview Dane Hillard for a developer position at the company where we both used to work. Don’t worry, I wasn’t called upon to evaluate his coding skills, but rather to see if he would be a good fit on the team. I gave him the thumbs up (literally—we took a show of thumbs) and I am so glad my colleagues agreed, because now we are friends and I have the chance to interview him again. This time, you get to decide if he’s a good fit for your ears! His folk album, Little Leviathan, is coming out May 1st and I got excited and asked him a bunch of questions about it.

R: When did you first pick up the guitar?

D: My dad had a Gibson Super 400 since before I was born. He'd pull it out from time to time to play and I was drawn to it. It's a beautiful instrument and it was pretty difficult not to want to grab it. I didn't do anything serious with guitar until I was almost done with middle school, though.

R: It does look pretty. You don't by any chance have any little-kid-Dane-holding-dad's-guitar pictures, do you?

D: A picture of that doesn't exist, to my knowledge. I've probably already got facial hair in any picture of me holding that guitar!

R: So like age 10, then? What made you decide to tackle writing and recording a full-length album?

D: I think the idea to write a full album came from this organic process where I wrote several songs over the course of a couple of years. When I realized I'd finally written enough material to compile an album, I was surprised! Once I decided to record it all, it was still another year or more before I actually finished it. I guess I'm sort of slow on the uptake!

R: What parts of the process did you really enjoy?

D: I enjoyed the actual moments of recording the most. Sitting there in the studio, trying to get the perfect take. It's a great challenge of my consistency and accuracy as a guitarist and vocalist. I've also enjoyed the process leading up to the release—queueing up all the metadata, artwork, and audio for distribution. Trying to figure out marketing right now.

Artwork for Hopeless Romantic

R: Have you written anything since you recorded that you wished you could have put on the record?

D: It might surprise you that I haven't written much other than the songs that are on this album. I guess I had a muse 5 or 6 years ago that's decided to move on! I hope to start writing more in the near future, but I prefer to let inspiration strike than to try and force things onto a page. The songs on this album came about fairly organically and I'm happy with how they came out. Collectively I think these songs fit together as an isolated work, so I don't feel any regrets about the track list.

R: That's good. Regrets are dumb. Did you have any formal music training growing up?

D: My first real foray into music was joining the school band in fifth grade. I started on the alto saxophone. Around the same time, I started taking piano lessons from a private teacher. I continued both until I graduated high school. I think the experiences in each of those allowed me to expand easily into other instruments and genres, at least in terms of interest.

R: What bands/artists influence your song writing?

D: I listen to the craziest mix of music, so if I listed everything here it would probably be overwhelming. A few that definitely stand out are Sufjan Stevens, Iron & Wine, and Alexi Murdoch. I enjoy the content of their music and text and I've definitely pulled elements that I like into my own writing process. They all write from very intimate personal experience, which has been a major inspiration for my work as well.

R: A lot of the songs sound somber. Do you find yourself writing about specific events or feelings? To try and capture certain moods?

D: This album came out of a time of mixed emotion. These songs cover both the ups and the downs of some of my relationships at the time, so the bipolarity shows! I think that's really how an album needs to be, though; without emotional dynamism there isn't much to support musical dynamism. As I mentioned earlier, personal experience is often a big motivator for the moods and ideas expressed in music.

R: I’m really digging one of your songs (Roots), which is a collaboration—is that with a friend?

D: Roots was recorded with a friend of mine. I had written that song and planned on performing it for this talent show, but wanted some harmonies to go along with it. Mark (Origami Incident) came up with the second voice in just a few days. I was blown away and decided it needed to be included in the recorded version.

R: Those harmonies are fantastic. And the album artwork is gorgeous—I wish there were a picture for every song! Are you going to make any physical versions of this album?

D: You'll be happy to know that there IS a piece of artwork for every song! Looking through this album on SoundCloud or Bandcamp will give people the ability to see each song's artwork. The Bandcamp digital album includes the original sketches for those pieces in the bonus material. The art was done by my very talented friend Katie Eberts. While it's still possible I'll change course, there aren't currently plans to create a physical version of this album.

R: Yay! I love Katie's work! Any story behind the name Little Leviathan?

D: Little Leviathan means a big guy in a small world. It means large ambition, and it means feeling closed in from time to time. Being 6'2" with a heavy frame, I sometimes feel a bit cramped compared to the average person. I also have all these hobbies and goals I pursue regularly and sometimes I feel like society isn't built for that anymore. The Renaissance celebrated these kinds of things but now, at least in America, the 9-5 work life is the norm. That can be limiting for creative types!

R: If it was feasible, would you work fewer hours at a day job for a pro-rated salary in order to have more time to pursue your creative hobbies (and possible other sources of income)?

D: I'd love to be able to use more of my time doing fun things! Right now I'm doing what I'm best at during my day job, so it feels right. I'd rate myself as mediocre to decent at the rest of my hobbies at the moment, but if ever I become truly skilled at one of them you can be sure I'll run with it!

R: In your own personal renaissance, what else would you creatively pursue?

D; If time—or sleep, I suppose—grew on trees, you would see me doing a lot of photography. I really enjoy editorial and street-style fashion and would love to travel around to the fashion weeks in New York, Milan, and Paris. I would even be interested in taking some classes on clothing design because the materials and technique aspects appeal to me as much as the creative and graphic aspects. Fashion is a great way to express individuality! You'd also be able to find me on the dance floor pretty often. I've done competitive ballroom dancing for almost 7 years and I've recently been doing social dances like west coast swing and hustle. Hip hop sounds fun too, so maybe I'll try that next! I love the technicality and expression involved with dancing and it pairs nicely with music.

Artwork for Lilliputian Sight

R: What are your goals for this project? What outcome(s) would feel like it was a success?

D: I don't have many specific goals other than sharing what I've created with the world. As my debut into music, it's unlikely to be wildly successful in terms of sales! I'd consider a success to be inspiring another musician to release his/her music or for a person to be touched by the music I've written. Sales would be a nice side effect, of course!

R: Have you/will you perform(ed) any live shows?

D: I used to play with some frequency at a few locations in Ann Arbor. I don't have any solid plans to perform but I'd like to when the time is right!

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If you want to listen to, buy, or find out more about Dane and his music, look for “Little Leviathan” on your favorite social media site or iTunes, or click the links scattered through the post. Thanks, Dane, for taking the time to answer my questions and share your experiences!

Am Reading

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Wed, 15 Apr 2015 21:29:00 +0000

(EDIT: Left Brain hates it when I post hand-drawn stuff like this! Which is exactly why I let Right Brain do it. But in order to appease Left Brain, I am adding this note, so you don't judge LB for RB's lack of concern for things like color correction, straightness of drawn lines, legibility of handwriting, etc. RB just wants to be friends.)

26 Books in 2015: An Interview with Andrea

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Fri, 27 Mar 2015 15:38:00 +0000

When I found out my friend Andrea was following a reading plan for her New Year’s Resolution, I got really excited about her project. Each time I’d see her and hear her updates, I was intrigued by the plan and inspired by her challenge. I thought you might be, too, so I interviewed her about it.

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R: First off, where did you get your reading plan?

A: I got my reading plan from Pinterest—where all New Year's Resolutions go to shine brightly for a month or two and then fade into oblivion.

R: What made you decide to follow it?

A: I decided to follow it because the only way I can ever get things done is if I make a list. I love lists. Well, I love crossing things off of lists. Sometimes, at work, I add things to my to-do list that I've already done just to cross them off. Or, I'll add things like "eat lunch." So, I figured if I really wanted to read more books this year, I needed to make a list. This list seemed like more fun than just going through whatever I had on my shelf.

R: So how far are you along at this point? It looks like you get 2 weeks per book, which seems fairly reasonable, depending on the length. Or boring-ness.

A: I just finished my 8th book, so technically I'm a few weeks ahead of schedule! However, I did cheat a little bit because I think I was probably about 75% done with the Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire when I started the plan and I counted that one as my "Book that was made into a movie.” Its funny, when I started I thought it would be really hard for me to finish a book every two weeks, but it hasn't been too bad. There have definitely been ones I finished in only a couple of days (Yes Please) and others (coughcough The Scarlet Letter coughcough) that took me more than the allotted two weeks.

R: Which categories are you most afraid of?

A: I think I'm most afraid of either "A book of poems" or "A book at the bottom of your 'to be read pile' ". I'm not a big poetry person and I told myself I couldn't choose a book of children's poetry (which would likely rhyme and thus is preferable). As for the other category, I mean, there's a reason it's at the bottom of the 'to be read' pile, right?

R: Besides the poetry one, are there any more rules you laid out for yourself?

A: No other rules besides the poetry one. I've heard there is value in reading poetry; your life might even be enriched by it! So if I'm really trying to try new things (on the book front), I shouldn't choose poetry that I read in elementary school.

R: Is this more books than you would normally read in a year?

A: I think it is—but I don't normally track the number of books I read, so I can't say for sure. I do know that it usually takes me longer than 2 weeks to read a book because I'll only pick it up every few days.

R: Have you considered tracking your books in GoodReads or participating in any other reading communities?

A: No, I haven't. I'm not really sure why...maybe it would feel too much like school.

R: What kinds of books do you normally read? Is it an eclectic mix?

A: I kinda bounce back and forth between fiction and non-fiction, so I do like to mix it up a bit. My favorite genres are probably memoirs and travel books. Weird, I know. For this challenge, I am trying to pick books from genres I don't often read, though. Who knows, maybe I'll really like mysteries! I went to the library yesterday and checked out my first Agatha Christie book, so I'll find out pretty soon!

R: Where do you tend to get the books you read?

A: I usually get them from the library or by borrowing from a friend. A few years back I told myself I wouldn't buy any new books until I read all of the ones on my shelf first, so I've been trying to stay away from buying new. Although, maybe by the end of this challenge, I will have gotten through all the books on my shelf and can lift the self-imposed book buying ban! Here's to hoping!

R: Do you read physical books, digital books, audiobooks?

A: I read physical books almost exclusively. Partially because I don't have an e-reader so I would have to use my phone, but I really do like the feel of an actual book better than a digital version. I also tend to flip pages by accident with e-readers because I'm too fidgety and I think I can see my progress a little more with a real book. However, this summer I'll be traveling for work for about a month and doing a lot of driving, so I may switch to audiobooks for a little bit just so I don't fall behind.

R: How are you choosing what to read next? Are you employing any strategy/system, like going down the list top to bottom?

A: Choosing what to read next has been, for the most part, random (and a little hard!). Sometimes library availability and due dates play a small role, but basically I've jumped around depending on what I'm feeling. However, I deliberately chose not to start at number 1 on the list because I didn't want to feel trapped. I just finished a couple of YA novels in a row (Red Rising—A book by an author you've never read before, and I'll Give You the Sun—A book picked solely because of the cover) so now I'm moving to another genre to keep it interesting.

R: When you read a book that fits in more than one category, how do you decide which to credit it to?

A: Oh, this happens a lot and it's a difficult decision. When I started the plan I assigned some books that I knew I wanted to read to certain categories, so depending on the book, I may go into it thinking it belongs in X category. Though, if I find midway through that it might fit another category that I'm having a harder time trying to fill, I might move it over. Even though I kinda feel like that's cheating, I haven't made any self-imposed rules about moving books between categories while I'm still reading them...yet. I currently have about 8 books pre-set into categories and another 9 that I might want to read this year, but haven't decided yet.

R: What have you learned so far from the experience of branching out in your reading?

A: I feel like I'm still at the beginning of this, so I'm not entirely sure what I've learned yet. I have found that I don't actually dislike reading as much as I thought I did, which is good, but I feel like I might have a better answer to that question in a few months.

R: Have you read anything that you liked but wouldn't have read otherwise?

A: Yeah, the book I'll Give You the Sun. It was my "Book that you choose just because of the cover" so I didn't know anything about when I started. I hadn't even read the jacket cover summary. It wasn't like I thought I would dislike it, but if you had told me I've got this book about a set of twins who are artists and they talk to the ghosts of their dead relatives from time to time and there's a secret teenage gay love story in it, too, I probably would have said, um, I'm not sure that's my cup of tea. It was pretty good though! There was an interesting structure to it that made you want to keep reading so you could fill in some missing information and the inner monologues were pretty funny and realistic. It's a YA novel, so it was nice and quick too, which I always like :)

Give a Hoot for HOOT!

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Tue, 24 Mar 2015 15:03:00 +0000

For the past year I’ve been attending online writers’ workshops hosted by the editors of Hoot Review. Before, I had very little experience giving and getting critical feedback, but the Hoot chats (as I call them) have been wonderfully educational and supportive. I get feedback that I read in the privacy of my own home so if I get offended or need to whine to my spouse that they just don’t get me, I can, and no one will know so long as I make sure to write only friendly and appreciative things in the chat box.

I never know what kind of reception the pieces I share are going to have. I may read them in my head beforehand, sniggering to myself and thinking they are great, but that seems to have no correlation with how they are received by the ever-changing group assembled for Hoot chat. I don’t know if my perception prediction meter will become more accurate over time, but right now I can say it is totally uncalibrated. The day I shared my “Leg” poem (which would be my first published piece, illustrated by Hoot, shown below hanging on my fridge) with the group, I proceeded it with “you know I’m no poet, so tell me the truth” because even though I liked it, I couldn't tell on my own if it was actually interesting. Turned out they loved it and didn’t want me to change a thing, which surprised and elated me. One of the editors, Dorian, poetry professor that he is, even explained to me why the piece worked, which was both helpful and sobering: “The first line is so not-romantic, so goofy…the next line is really kind of prosaic… and the last line is so understated.”

I love the community created by the regular members. When I was getting started, I didn’t really know how to connect with writers or find people to be in a writing group with me. I was too timid to show up to a local group in person, so finding an online group seemed more appealing. Now, I regularly exchange pieces with two brilliant and talented women I met through Hoot. They write imaginative and poignant stories and poems I love to read even as rough drafts. It’s exactly what I wanted in a writing group and I’m still not sure how I got lucky enough to find them. I don’t think I could be in a writing group with just anyone, because it's hard to have patience for poetry or pieces I don’t get, so it is fantastic to get to read and be inspired by work I naturally connect with. They are also fantastic resources for finding places to submit my work, and I have to thank each of them for bringing to my attention the journals which are publishing my next three pieces!

If you're looking for a literary way to spend a few minutes, or want to get an illustrated literary postcard every month, I recommend reading and/or subscribing to Hoot! Everything they publish is 150 words or less (postcard-sized), so even if you have a short attention span, you might be able to make it through a few issues. Here are some of my favorites.

FaceTime with Buddy

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Wed, 18 Feb 2015 20:35:00 +0000

FaceTime chat with Buddy the peacock

Hey, Buddy, what's up? Are you going to have a nice tail this year? How's the family doing? I was so sorry to hear about Chickie—coyote is a terrible way to go. Don't forget that you can fly!

Did I tell you I dressed up as a peacock in flight for Halloween this year?

Costume depicting peacock in flight

A few of my feathers flew off while I was flying about the office, but that happens, right? I enjoyed educating my admirers on the various colors of peacock wing feathers and sent many of them running to google to see if my depiction was at all accurate. I highly enjoyed having wings for a day.

You take care now, Buddy, okay? Try to stay warm and safe! I know that snow you're getting right now isn't necessarily a peafowl's native climate.

gods

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Fri, 13 Feb 2015 16:27:00 +0000

We all have a god. Probably more than one. Let’s define a “god” as the thing (person, ideal, symbol, activity, feeling…) to which we give supreme importance. “Supreme importance” implies we can have only one, but like at a job, we can have multiple mid-level bosses. They might be organized into a hierarchy so it is clear which boss’s opinion matters more, or they could have ambiguous and overlapping influence over us.

So what is your god? What do you place above everyone else? Is it a person? Is it an ideal? Is it yourself and your own abilities? What is it that you seek out to get you through the day and keeps your attention longest? Think about that god. There is something you are affording supreme importance to. Is it what you want in that role?

When you spend time with your god, are you rewarded with satisfaction and peace? Do you feel more alive when you give it the best part of you? How much does it cost? Is it a good return on investment? What are you willing to sacrifice for it? Did you choose it or did it choose you?

I find myself making a god of “Comfort”. I worship the god of Comfort by arranging my schedule and my possessions around feeling most comfortable and least inconvenienced. I am not always content when I finally get things arranged the way I thought would make me most comfortable. At worst, I become a slave to protecting my tenuous hold on stability and comfort, and at best my safe routine lacks excitement without room left to be surprised by anything.

Sometimes I make a god of “Friends”. I sacrifice time, energy, and money for their amusement. I place my faith in friends to make me feel happy and fulfilled. Their companionship is indispensable in this life, but, being only human, they eventually have to disappoint me when they can’t be my everything every time I want them, just as I am bound to disappoint them. My best friend described the disappointment as “anything short of always” which I think describes it perfectly.

I also have a “God” in the traditional, religious sense. I try to afford my idea of this god supreme importance in my life. When I evaluate my relationship with this god critically, I feel overwhelmingly satisfied with my return on investment. The effort I put in to seeking out and learning about what I believe to be the omniscient and omnipotent being of the universe yields me peace, wisdom, patience, and meaning—the sort of stuff I need to help me get by on a daily basis.

Who or what are your gods? What do they promise you? Are they worthy to be your gods?

Like beets

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Mon, 02 Feb 2015 21:49:00 +0000

There is a website that will analyze your twitter feed and create a sonnet "written" by you! (Click here and hover over lines to see original tweets. Too bad about the unpaired parentheses!)

The foliage was a bit intense.

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Fri, 30 Jan 2015 10:40:00 +0000

My brain apparently keeps a back catalog of things left unsaid, and when I can't sleep in the wee hours of the morning, it trots out memories demanding justice. This time I found myself writing a suggestion box comment for a restaurant I went to in June 2013.

"The food was great. The service was forgettable. The foliage was a bit intense."

Although, now that this stupid memory has gotten me out of bed to write a blog post about it, I'm feeling a more straightforward suggestion would be to drop this picture in the box, with ultimately no caption necessary:

There. Are you happy now, brain?

Moral Dilemma: Seaweed Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Rachel Dull) — Tue, 20 Jan 2015 03:02:00 +0000

Say you’re shopping at Trader Joe’s on a Sunday afternoon. You only get to that side of town once a week, at most, and you’ve been hankering for some roasted seaweed snacks for a while now. Finally you remembered when you were at the store! With luck, you manage to safely navigate your cart past the crowded sample station and into the snack and fresh fruits aisle. Since it is so crazy busy in there, your spouse says he will retrieve the seaweed off the 2nd-from-the-bottom shelf if you want to stand with the cart out of the way by the bananas. You say, “Thanks! I’d like 6.” He comes back with 3 packages of seaweed and says, “There are only 6 left. Do you want them all, or should we leave some for the other shoppers?”

How many packages of roasted seaweed snacks do you buy?