tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11213383924624869742024-03-05T02:50:33.707-05:00On Writing...always begin at the beginning...Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-40818132991003526362010-01-03T23:28:00.003-05:002010-01-04T11:00:47.351-05:00Under The DomeThis is definitely more On Reading than On Writing, but still...it totally relates, promise!<br /><br />For Christmas this year, my fabulous hubs got me Stephen King's new book, Under the Dome. As a fan of Stephen King, (have I mentioned I have everything he's every written?), I was so far from disappointed that I was...well, ecstatic. It was King at his best, right up there with The Stand, Lisey's Story, and The Dark Tower series.<br /><br />As a writing, I inspired. Under the Dome is an example of King at his finest, in character development, plot, pacing, and conclusion. It's eerie how totally he gets the small town mentality, and takes it to such deep, dark places. Places I have no problem seeing; I could totally see the town I live in now paralleling his story.<br /><br />And that's what I want to write. That reality, but in the richest form possible. The type of writing that takes you past the surface, and into the deep. The kind of writing which may have come from the Myth Pool, or the Language Pool, to steal one of King's more magnificent concepts...which I understand he learned from a teacher very early on.<br /><br />If you haven't read Under the Dome yet, what are you waiting for?! Just to tempt you, here's the awesome cover art:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://jccclib.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/under-the-dome-by-stephen-king-full-cover.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 911px; height: 381px;" src="http://jccclib.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/under-the-dome-by-stephen-king-full-cover.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a href="http://jccclib.wordpress.com/2009/11/10/rss-feed-is-back-up/">source</a><br /><br />You can only see half of it here, so click on the picture to see the awesomeness in it's entirety.Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-76679867456114912562009-12-12T14:55:00.003-05:002010-01-03T23:28:04.884-05:00Stew, Bread, Pizza, PortisheadHello there friends! And strangers. And anyone else who might be reading this.<br /><br />After a few months of pure insanity, I've been working on getting life back on track, and lemme tell ya...so far, so good.<br /><br />As far as writing goes, can I just say that I'm so in love with OpenOffice? Seriously, I'm having a major love affair with it. The fact that it's COMPLETELY FREE also makes me smile. Just a little bit. :)<br /><br />I've been working on transferring all my hand-written pages, from the week my computer crapped out, onto OO, and in the process, getting back into the groove. The story's been marinating, and I'm almost ready to reach back into the stew and pull out some more awesomeness. A big meaty piece of fantasticness. And now I'm hungry again! (big surprise right?)<br /><br />I've been on an epic journey of music collection as well, and at this exact moment, I'm listening to Sea Wolf. I love playing their music while I write, and when I clean, and when I drive, and...well, you get the point. Also Sia, girl has one of those haunting sopranos that isn't obnoxious at all, Bon Iver, Grizzly Bear, The Drums, Hurricane Bells, and of course, Portishead. Writing and music are like bread and butter to me; like ham and cheese, or pizza and beer, or....dang it! Always with the food/drink comparisons!!!Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-80091316059466839682009-10-21T13:36:00.002-04:002009-10-21T13:43:48.511-04:00The Pen Is Mightier Than The...Computer?After a few weeks of not writing at all, I sat down to get back to it. Unfortunately, my computer had other ideas. After taking it to the geek-shop for repair, I sat down on my porch with my notebook and a pen to jot down some story ideas. Fortunately, my pen had other ideas.<br /><br />I think I've said this before, but there's something cathartic about writing longhand with a pen on sheets of notebook paper. For me at least. And when I opened my notebook to a fresh page, something took over and I just wrote and wrote.<br /><br />My story, which I'd been unhappy with because something just wasn't clicking for me, took an entirely different turn. And while my characters are largely the same, (because I love them just the way they are), the plot itself decided to go running off into a new world of intrigue, love, mystery and trust. And I couldn't be happier with the outcome. Whereas before I was struggling to come up with the next thing, now I can't write fast enough to get it all down. It's like the real story was there, buried way down deep, and my original draft was just the outside layer. I had to get all that icing out of the way to get to the cake underneath. And now I'm, well...covered in cake! :)<br /><br />Now that my computer is fixed, I'm working on transferring my 20 pages of longhand into my writing files. And as soon as my kids get to bed, I'm going to pick up where I left off...I seem to remember an unfinished conversation between my reluctant hero and my possible antagonist...or is he?<br /><br />Guess I'll have to wait and see!Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-52467076724895918712009-10-12T14:21:00.001-04:002009-10-12T14:22:43.524-04:00Lightening StrikeHoly cow I have so much to say, and no time! I'll be back with details soon, promise, but for right now all I can say is that sometimes lightening strikes, and it's a good thing!Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-24938180922571582032009-09-08T12:50:00.002-04:002009-09-08T13:10:00.939-04:00A Quick Note...It's been a while, I know. It's funny how that works, isn't it? I mean, the way time passes at the same speed, every second of forever, and yet we feel like we're swimming in molasses some days, and others are just a blink of the eye.<br /><br />Recently, certain parts of my life have been fast, and others, slow. Life always tends to intrude on my better times with a little dose of harsh reality every now and then, so while things are definitely pretty good, there's always those things that are a little less good...or just downright bleh.<br /><br />I've spent so much more time focusing on other aspects of my life right now that my computer has basically been abandoned for a few months. I probably get on it once every 5 days or so, as opposed to 5 times every day. I feel a lot better about that, but it makes me a little sad to because I miss being able to just write it as it comes to me, during the day (or night). But even though I have to put it off now until I get to my designated time to write, I think it's better like this. Less focus on the whole wide (& mostly unimportant, and unrelated to anything I'll ever be a part of) world the internet opens for me, more focus on the reality of my day-to-day life.<br /><br />Even though I'm writing less here, I'm writing more "there", in my life. And that's great, because there is something so cathartic about writing longhand, to me at least. A good ball point pen, and some blank papers and I'm off, free-falling into whatever universe I want. <br /><br />Lately I've been getting to the "wine" of the story. The part where the exciting newness has worn off, and reality has more or less settled into it. Now it's work. But it's better now, like wine, because I've got that inital flash down, and a clear-eyed strategy is exactly what's needed to clean it up, and make it work.<br /><br />Sadly, now that I'm back, I'm leaving again. I'm going on a vacation of sorts, back to the beach, which is currently under thrall of a howling nor'easter, while I'm living in that best part of summer; the last few days of pure sunshine, almost cool air, and freshness. <br /><br />I'm really excited about going home.Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-67062867709709946492009-06-18T20:47:00.002-04:002009-06-18T21:14:57.781-04:00I ♥ NPRI can't believe how fast the time has passed since I last wrote here! I've been planning everything around the week-long vacation I'll be leaving for in 3 days, and my work and personal lives have been busy!<br /><br />I've spent a lot of time listening to NPR, largely because of two things: 1.) The CD player in the truck is possibly possessed, and therefore completely unreliable and mostly unusable, and 2.) There aren't a large variety of radio stations available that suit my...eclectic music tastes. While I can pick up about 15 different stations, they all revolve around the same 4 genres: rap, country, talk/religion/Braves games commentaries, and Spanish. No joke, there's at least 4 different Spanish radio stations I pick up. While I do enjoy a little of all of those genres occasionally, it just doesn't suit my day-to-day listening needs. So I started listening to NPR, and got completely sucked into this whole other side of story telling. <br /><br />For those of you who are unaware, NPR is National Public Radio. And while they do have a lot of interviews with different people, they also play a TON of classical music and opera. I understand that neither of those appeals to the general masses, but let me tell you...I LOVE IT!<br /><br />I've always loved classical music; it's been a constant part of my life, starting with the movie Fantasia, a childhood obsession of mine, to someone always playing on the piano at my granparents house, to the couple years I spent playing the violin.<br /><br />Now that I'm concsiously thinking about it, I think I could probably blame, or thank, Fantasia for my current state of semi-maddness when it comes to classical music. Seeing the stories told without words gave me the palette to draw from I guess. Because any time I hear classical music, a story forms in my head. It doesn't matter that I don't know anything about the actual story the composer had in mind; that the beauty of it - IT DOESN'T MATTER! <br /><br />I love the fact that the music is so strong that it tells it's own story. And believe me, strong is the right word. I've actually missed my turn after work because I get so wrapped up in the story in my head, whether it be a mad horseback chase through the forrest at midnight, rain pouring down, flickers of incandescent lightening showing you brief glimpses of the hunter chasing you, or if it's that first moment when he sees her, and the crowd disappears around them, until it's just him watching her, and her wrapped up in her own little world, unaware of anything but the music and the way her body moves as she dances...when she finally looks up, she sees him and something happens between them, across a dark room full of other people...each recognizes the shock, and as he takes a step towards her, and she unthinkingly takes one towards him, a big man with a scar on his face appears at her elbow and wrenches her out through a side door - her boyfriend. The man is frozen in place by the monumental shift in his life when he saw her, and before he could take more than one step, she's gone, taken...by a man he now recognizes as the leader of a street gang he believes is responsible for the death of his father at a gas station hold up years ago, never proven, but always believed none-the-less. First his father and now this girl, this girl he doesn't know but is suddenly aware that he'd lay his life on the line for her, taken from him by some street thug? No. Never. As he turns away, his brain is already planning, already discarding and sifting through different courses of action...because he's going to end it, once and for all.<br /><br />Um, yeah. <br /><br />That last one is the one I saw in my head last night when I was listening to a Japanese piece I'd never heard before. As you can see, I get pretty wrapped up in it, hence missing the turn to my house. <br /><br />But it's just so amazing to me that music, unseen, only heard, can produce these amazing movies in my head, ever crescendo and pause telling me the next thing that happens, each poignant violin solo proclaiming it's love or death or tears or joy...seriously awesome. <br /><br />After so much mad ramblings, I have to get back to reality, because I have a feeling while I was lost in my action/romance flick my son has probably gotten into something he's not supposed to...it's reeeeeaaaaally quiet out there.....<br /><br />So until I get back from vacation (yay!), if you get bored, check out 89.5 fm, and see what kind of stories you see. :)Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-61213805509531353462009-05-27T19:42:00.003-04:002009-05-27T19:56:59.906-04:00Smoke, Rain, & a Crown Vic with Peeling PaintI'm still amazed at how wrapped up I can get when I'm writing. And at how limitless writing a story can be.<br /><br />As I was writing a few days ago, I noticed both these things. My character has a brief encounter with someone who has a much bigger effect than they realize; in telling one story, I have to tell another.<br /><br />And after I stared writing the person who is just "passing through", I wanted to just jot down a few things about her story, who she is, how she came to be that way. Twenty minutes later, I realized that I had forgotten about dinner, (burnt), my kids, (covered in milk from purposely spraying each other with it), and the fact that I was just writing a basic outline for a minor character. Her story just wrapped my up and spirited me away. There I was, sitting next to her in an old, second-hand Crown Victoria, smelling that old car smell, watching the rain hit the glass, the road ahead of us...I could smell her cheap ciggarette, which she chain smokes, and see the bug bites on her skinny knees. I noticed the way she constantly kept shifting her eyes to the rear-view mirror, like she was worried someone was following us; even though the idea was ludacris, I began to look at the rear-view more than was neccessary.<br /><br />I became so wrapped up in her story that I forgot MY story...the one I was writing, until she came along and took over things in her quiet, intense way. Which is actually fitting, considering who she is: a quiet, intense, occasionally scary person, full of holes that once were full of sun and life, holes she tries to fill with too many ciggarettes, and a jaded outlook that somehow doesn't seem to fit her young face and her skinny knees.<br /><br />Once again, dinner and my children are waiting, but now I'm itching to get back to where we left off....a lonely highway, a sky like old parchment, niether sunny nor cloudy, simply greyish-white and blindingly bright...the rain keeps falling, and the tempo of the windsheild wipers matches the tempo of her tapping foot....most of the smoke pouring out of a crack in her window, but enough of it staying in the old car to make it a little hazy, a little unreal seeming...and her story, spoken in her harsh voice, her old eyes staring out of her young face, making and being unmade at the same time...Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-85348756666282363172009-05-13T13:47:00.002-04:002009-05-13T13:54:49.202-04:00Semi-Charmed Kind of (Social) LifeI can't believe how long it's been since my last post! Again, I'm sorry for being completely random and irregular in my postings, but in actuality, this is a good thing.<br /><br />The reason for my occasional only posts is because I kind of have a semi-social life. While I've restrained myself from typing that line in all caps, and possible making the font larger, and making the whole thing bold, I'm still very excited about this.<br /><br />Some mysterious force in the universe set me down in the one job in the whole county with the two people I would most easily become friends with, and I've taken full advantage of that fact. So now, instead of waiting 3 months for a night out, I've had a few already this month. Granted, I do get to count Mom's Day, and my birthday, but still...<br /><br />And last night, I even had a game night, and invited people over to my house. Incredible, I know.<br /><br />Anyways, to get back to the root of what I was saying before I drifted off on a tangent, as I so often do, I HAVE actually been writing also. I just haven't been writing about writing here. But things are going well, and I've been expanding on one of my ideas. The growth of those idea's never ceases to amaze me. <br /><br />It starts with the littlest thing, one line in my thoughts maybe. And then things just build and build on that one little thing, and there's suddenly the groundwork for a novel. Freakin' amazing.<br /><br />But I must leave you with that, fine readers, because my kids are asleep and I don't want to use all my time writing here, when I have to write there.<br /><br />:)Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-4734829264836404972009-04-30T15:03:00.003-04:002009-04-30T15:13:41.764-04:00Death By Drowning (in words)It feels like things have been conspiring against me lately when it comes to writing. After having some issues with the computer, which I've fixed (I hope), and then being way too tired after a very tough week with the kids, I just haven't felt it.<br /><br />I sit down at the computer, and the thought of sinking myself into my fictional world seems like too much work. And that kind of makes me sad, but it also kind of makes me understand further what it is that drives me to write.<br /><br />I have to really let myself sink into the world I'm creating; I'm standing next to my characters, riding in cars with them, singing in the shower with them, whatever. If I don't submerge myself that way, then what I end up writing just feels like crap to me, like I didn't give it 100%. And I can't have that.<br /><br />Now that doesn't mean I have to be in a silent house with no distractions. Geez, if I had to have that, I'd never have started writing again! No, I actually listen to music while I write, and I have certain songs for certain things, certain feelings and plots and whatnot. And I have to be able to dedicate at least 30 minutes at a time to it. Getting up every 5 minutes irritates the crap out of me, I lose my train of thought, and spend the next 5 minutes getting back into the groove. And just as I start to write again, I have to get up. Usually to rescue one of the kids from the other.<br /><br />But this past week, by the time I get the time to drown in my words, I just don't want to. I just want to fall in bed and turn my brain to mush with DVD's.<br /><br />But after this weekend, and my much needed reprieve, I'm diving back in, head first. <br /><br />Into the deep end. ;)Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-27597419148011136742009-04-28T12:58:00.002-04:002009-04-28T13:01:15.958-04:00PassionsPassion is a word that goes both ways. Loving someone passionately, hating someone passionately; opposite ends of the spectrum brought together by the same word. A word that incites all sorts of madness, whether in love or hate, or anything in between.<br /><br />Passion is really fun to write about. ;)Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-18286601498111420812009-04-15T14:20:00.002-04:002009-04-15T14:59:47.868-04:00The Hundred Secret SensesI recently finished reading a book that was somehow incredibly simple, and at the same time breathtakingly beautiful. I know the image in your head is something akin to a closeup photo of a flower or something; something very plain yet still able to convey infinite beauty. But that's not quite what I mean. Think more like...concrete sidewalks. There is nothing really beautiful about them. They're basic, boring, and functional, always there and mostly unnoticed. <br /><br />The Hundred Secret Senses by Amy Tan. Sounds familiar right? She also wrote that other tiny little book that you <span style="font-style: italic;">may </span>have heard of...The Joy Luck Club. I wasn't completely absorbed by it in the first ten pages...it took all of twenty. <br /><br />And she is one of those writer's whose prose is just pure and stunning and every single word has meaning. The book is an art gallery, and every sentence is a Van Gogh, Klimt, Picasso, and Michelangelo. In that sense I compare her to Patricia McKillip, but only in that sense. There were sentences I read over and over, just in and of themselves; they needed no context, no plot to follow, and lost nothing of their impact. Some of them had more, if that's possible.<br /><br />They were the kinds of words you can just meditate on. Let them marinate, growing more flavorful with each bite, each re-reading. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans—serif;font-size:85%;" >"With each passing day, I didn't lose hope. I fought to have more."</span><br /></div><br />Amy Tan manages to somehow paint a portrait of a world I have absolutely no familiarity with, and make it feel like my own history. Each character was somehow immanently relatable, while still maintaining their own complete identities.<br /><br />Best of all, I felt satisfied when I finished it. Bliss.<br /><br />Read this book, if you want to lose yourself in another world...or two.Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-45779410179154179742009-04-07T13:04:00.000-04:002009-04-07T13:07:07.796-04:00Attack of the "life"So I realize I've been slacking off on posting here, and I'm sorry. I've just been trying to keep up with my life, in general, much less my computer life as well. But things are going well, and it seems like every time I start to write down an idea, another one pops up. In fact, I sat down to start writing a story inspired in part by my blog buddies, but after I went back and re-read, I realized it was going in an entirely different direction. So just like that, there's a new story. I'm actually getting worn out right now just thinking about it. I need a nap, and solid week to just write, write, write.<br /><br />Maybe in my next life, right?<br /><br />Until next time :)Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-80264050462357743832009-04-01T10:47:00.004-04:002009-04-15T15:24:12.062-04:00911 Writer's BlockSo I got on Twitter this morning, to find<span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" href="http://www.webook.com/911writersblock">this link</a> from, of all people, Demi Moore, just begging me to click it.<br /><br />So I did.<br /><br />And it is AWESOME! And it made me laugh, which I needed. So thanks Mrs. Kutcher, for sharing this in the Twitterverse.<br /><br />And just a head's up for all you April Foolers out there...beware the Rickroll. 9 out of 10 links today lead directly to, yep, you guessed it...Rick Astley. What happened to original pranks?Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-36248960209771935062009-03-30T11:03:00.003-04:002009-03-30T11:35:00.908-04:00Mon coeur est heureuxLast night I woke up from a dream I don't remember, and wrote this down:<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I've left behind the weight of my past, </span><span style="font-style: italic;">and while I'll never think of this place </span><span style="font-style: italic;">as home like the beach is home, </span><span style="font-style: italic;">I feel more comfortable in my skin </span><span style="font-style: italic;">than I ever could there."</span><br /><br />While I'm tempted to edit it into something more flowing, I'll leave it since I have the excuse of being almost completely asleep when I wrote it. But it's so true, and the loss of that weight has done amazing things to me, and especially my urge to write. I sat down after work last night to work on a story I'd been tossing around in my head, one I'd already run by my most delightful friend Carolyn. But when I started writing, I realized it was something totally different. I put on my music, stuck my headphones one, and let my fantastic husband deal with the kids. And I wrote. And wrote. And wrote.<br /><br />When 2am rolled around, I forced myself to stop and go to bed, but there was still so much there I wanted to get down. I was afraid I'd lose it if I slept on it, actually, but I needn't have worried. When I woke up, I could still see the precise smile on Alex Archer's face, feel the thrill of Jaymes first realizing she's going to take a huge step towards growing up, and hear Leigh's laughter...laughter that sounds a lot like one of my girlfriend's laughs, now that I think about it.<br /><br />I miss my beach home, always having sand in the sheets no matter what, the way my hair smelled after the salt water and sunscreen dried in it, and even the sight of seagulls flying over head constantly. But I've traded it for dark, swooping hawks, beautiful, distant mountains in different shades of blues and purples everywhere I turn, and a new springtime smell...the mountain coming back to life after a long, wet winter. And all of those things inspire me in a way I'd never feel at home; too comfortable in my element perhaps, to take the details in. But here my eyes, used to flat horizons, long stretches of straight roads and scrubby, windswept trees, are constantly drawn to, and amazed by, the endless rolling green fields, towering trees, and mountains topped with clouds.<br /><br />Here I am myself; here I am a writer.Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-22342834116595604252009-03-25T21:32:00.002-04:002009-03-25T21:48:27.741-04:00Spring SnowsSo I haven't written in what feels like a very long time, and I apologize for that. But things have been, well...good. Actually, things have been fantastic. Something has just been right the past few days, and I have been so inspired by so many things. <br /><br />By everything actually, which is awesome and even a little overwhelming. I mean every little thing is inspiring; from what I see, to what I hear, what I live, what I dream-all of it. The overwhelming part is trying to get it all out of my head and onto paper. If I didn't have kids this wouldn't be quite so hard, but free time isn't in abundance around my house right now, so...<br /><br />It's like my brain has opened up every line of communication possible, and has become a sponge to everything around me. I've found a ton of new music, which is always inspirational for obvious reasons. I've also been immersed in a new town, and like all places inhabited by humans, gossip abounds. And there are so many truths that sound closer to fiction my fingers just itch to write them down. And I've been reading the Harry Potter books again. I spent the past week on books 6 & 7, both of which make me bawl and sob, and smile and laugh. And anytime I get into a heightened state of emotion, the brain kicks into high gear, and takes off, spouting off ideas and asking questions...it's seriously awesome.<br /><br />And not only do I feel all this inspiration, I feel like I can do it. Like I actually have it in me to achieve something great. Perhaps some people have this ambition inborn, but ambition and achievement have never been something I'm hardwired for.<br /><br />But right now, things are great, ideas are falling like snow, and I'm making the sweetest family of snowmen ever. Even though I hate snow. And spring is finally here...maybe I should think of something warmer...oh well.<br /><br />Back to writing!!<br /><br />(soon to come-a huge thanks to someone for an idea that's grown into something huge...)Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-6219346195268006932009-03-16T19:17:00.005-04:002009-03-16T20:10:01.537-04:00Refreshing Rain<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInUEC_0W_lTRduY_9X86hCeUi2fWkj2jIJqjCrEId5Bn6aRzPjCZjg6ELPzEoboanM6g81z0woTaEuI2F-P1c3J6riTPjT5YjoGnDgAFHEYbL6DEn-DrEfn0YkOFYlxRRRZ-EM8xQfPc/s1600-h/playing_with_the_rain.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInUEC_0W_lTRduY_9X86hCeUi2fWkj2jIJqjCrEId5Bn6aRzPjCZjg6ELPzEoboanM6g81z0woTaEuI2F-P1c3J6riTPjT5YjoGnDgAFHEYbL6DEn-DrEfn0YkOFYlxRRRZ-EM8xQfPc/s320/playing_with_the_rain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313937794511307250" border="0" /></a><br />It feels like it's been raining endlessly since we got to Georgia, although it hasn't really been. There were some great days full of warmth and sun and happiness; but when it rains, it rains for at least three days at a time.<br /><br />After the past three days of rain and being cooped up in the house watching Aladdin repeatedly, I finally couldn't take it anymore. Instead of going out to eat with the kids Nana, who is their great-grandma, I told Ryan to just take Chloe, and I was going to stay home with Colin. We had some business to attend to.<br /><br />After getting Ryan and Chloe out the door, Colin and I got bundled, put on our "mud shoes", and went out to trek through the rain for an early evening walk. It wasn't really raining, just that incessant drizzle that is somehow worse than heavy downpour. The air wasn't too cool, just perfect enough to cool our cheeks off after we ran down the hills. It was a good choice to take him out, for both of us. While Colin had a blast throwing rocks into the pond, and splashing in the puddles, I had a chance to think about writing.<br /><br />Confession: I haven't written anything in over a week. I KNOW!!! I know. It's been a productive week in my "real life" though, and I'm proud of how awesomely organized I'm getting the new house. But I've been kind of procrastinating about getting back to the book. Because I just wasn't feeling that buzz of anticipation when I sat down at the computer. Because I know I'll have to stop right when I really get going to get one of the kids from their nap...or each other's throats. Because I've been redecorating all three blogs. (What do you think?) Because I know that it's going to take a little work, and I'm lazy.<br /><br />But the lazy walk through wet scenery revived me from my stupor, and I came back refreshed, and ready to write. The landscape made me think of confrontations, deep thoughts, and passions, both in love and hate. It made me think of true loves, true lusts, and heartaches. And that intense, searing stare one shares with another in that moment before a first kiss happens, or in the moments after one mistakenly takes place...but I'm digressing into story-land, sorry!<br /><br />So I opened the file, took a deep breath, and jumped in headfirst. Imagine my (pleasant) surprise when I realized it was all there, waiting for me. What was I thinking? Work? This isn't work, this is greeting a friend at the airport when you haven't seen them in ages. This is finding a good book you thought you'd lost and re-reading it just to realize it's still just as good. This is finding a twenty in your jeans while you're waiting in line at Food Lion and wishing you could afford to get a Snickers...<br /><br />My friends, foes, and lovers were all waiting for me with open arms, begging me to get on with their stories so we can all find out what happens to them.<br /><br />And the familiar excitement is rushing through my veins again. I cannot wait to write.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you God, for rainy days, for being alive to appreciate them.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMe6XsTMOlwWSfHvc2xfOtAI9V_-IlD8GHkujBNyqIJjXixhP0EailzmuIs-2WM9_pOLP7RIZ_GE3yycz2PVNrstU2X-aqRHe-I68Ns_6un9H95VaPjLdr4_mb533vOvhmMQv7dbcU3w/s1600-h/rainyday1.aspx"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMe6XsTMOlwWSfHvc2xfOtAI9V_-IlD8GHkujBNyqIJjXixhP0EailzmuIs-2WM9_pOLP7RIZ_GE3yycz2PVNrstU2X-aqRHe-I68Ns_6un9H95VaPjLdr4_mb533vOvhmMQv7dbcU3w/s320/rainyday1.aspx" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313942014392431026" border="0" /></a><br />Crappy cell phone pic of where we stop to watch the water.<br />It's so much prettier than this looks, but since I forgot the camera, <span style="font-style: italic;">again</span>...<br /></div>Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-44644061261105715532009-03-09T14:53:00.002-04:002009-03-09T15:34:22.187-04:00Oh I Wish I Were...No, not an Oscar Meyer Weiner. I wish I were (insert any of the following words):<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />*audacious</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*confident</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*courageous</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*daring</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*dashing</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*dauntless</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*defiant</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*fearless</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*foolhardy</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*intrepid</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*reckless</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">enough to write the story of my actual life. Because the characters who fill my days are so much MORE than any character I could ever come up with. They're all flawed and quirky and some of them are insane and some of them are too good to be true...but they are, and that's the kicker.<br /><br />Every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, I go to work, and I see a wide variety of people from a wide variety of places. Most of them have a story to tell, and a few would make excellent chapters in a book.<br /><br />As real people, they're constantly making choices, showing little facets of their personalities, revealing all those flaws and characteristics that make them into individuals. That is something that is so important to me in characters that I both read and write about. I don't want someone perfect, I want someone flawed. Human. Not ink on a page, but an actual personality in my head, readily available for reference any time their part of the story is up. Some authors miss that entirely, most do credibly well at giving us someone relate-able. And a certain few give us characters who are so perfectly believeable that we become friends, or enemies, or lovers, of any number of things with that character. We form a relationship of some sort that is strong enough to effect us in our daily lives, strong enough to make us a little sad to finish a book. We miss them for a while after that, and sometimes we rush back to them, and sometimes we wait years to open those pages again. Either way, those few characters are exactly right, and we meet as friends who haven't spoked in ages, but fall into the same patterns with little or no effort.<br /><br />That is precisely what I want need for my characters. And lacking any formal training, or informal for that matter, and going on a purely instinctual level, I often have a tough time translating what I have in my head into written form on a page, without losing that integral core of what makes that character stand out in my head. <br /><br />The funny thing is, I think I hold myself back more than any lack of schooling. I have a strange perfectionism that doesn't apply to all areas of my life, just some. But writing is one of them. And if I don't feel like what I've written is perfect, then I tend to get discouraged by it. I don't let it go entirely, I just take a while to psyche myself back up to re-read what I've written, and change what I can to fix it.<br /><br />And half the time, when I've re-read it, I'm surprised by myself and what I've produced. I wonder to myself why I wasn't satisfied while I was writing, when I'm not only satisfied, I'm slightly mystified at my own abilities. It's a good feeling, but not a completely comfortable one, if you know what I mean. It's the same way I feel about adrenyline. Some people adore that feeling, some people avoid it at all costs. I feel slightly sick and yet still excited, two things that don't often go together. Like your first kiss. You felt scared and excited and nervous and exultant all at once...not a <span style="font-style: italic;">comfortable</span> feeling, but not a bad one either.<br /><br />But the people I see in my day-to-day life are already there. They're already written in stone, to a certain extent, and some things will never change about them. There's a lot less pressure, and a draw that feels almost like the urge to smoke a ciggarette when I really know I shouldn't. Writing about the people in my life would be easier, more entertaining, a much better story, and very guilt/fear inducing. Which is, of course, part of the draw.<br /><br />Damn you contradictions!! I feel like I am constantly pulling against myself in one way or another...which is totally unrelated, and I apologize for that. Tangets tend to run away with me.<br /><br />I'm not making any definite stands on writing about the people I know, because change happens every second whether we want it to or not. And sometimes the temptation is just to much to walk away from....<br /><br />But for now at least, I'll keep my non-fiction story in my head, where it makes me alternately smile and cringe, and write dialogue in my thoughts while I'm on my break at work.<br /><br />I'll leave you with a quote I like, and a fond farewell for now:<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."</span><br />-Ralph Waldo Emerson<br /><br /></div><br /></div>Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-31533850559083062372009-03-04T18:12:00.001-05:002009-03-04T18:14:36.838-05:00Yum Yum YumHow do you feel about completely gratuitous male sexiness? <br /><br />Check it out <a href="http://thoughtwithoutmeasure.blogspot.com/2009/03/completely-pointless-and-sexy.html">here</a>, but only if you're really interested. ;)Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-52532584319126668702009-03-03T09:55:00.006-05:002009-03-03T10:46:23.298-05:001+1=1...& sometimes 3Well hello again! It seems like forever since I had a minute to write here, even though it's only been a few days. But life never stops, and over the past week it seems like it's made a special point to shove some problem or another in my face just at the precise moment I think I'm finally getting to sit down and write.<br /><br />So while I haven't actually written anything, I've been thinking a lot about my "litterforts". Inspiration is all around me here in Georgia, in a way that it wasn't on the beach. Not that the Outer Banks are less inspiring in general; in fact, many writers have been inspired by trips to those sandy beaches. (Nights in Rodanthe, anyone?) It's just that after being immersed in the salt air and sea grass for so many years, it becomes commonplace, everyday.<br /><br />But here, everything is new, and completely different from a geographical aspect. Looking out the window, I see more trees surrounding me in a twenty foot radius than I would see on twenty miles in North Carolina. And the land is constantly moving up and down, from little hills to the majestic mountains that form the backdrop in shades of blue and green for this little storybook town. And everywhere there are little fingers of water reaching out of the ground, turning into tiny brooks and streams, running over rocks and making little waterfalls, something I could stare at all day.<br /><br />One of my stories, Story #2 to be precise, has a lot of traveling in it...well, so does #1 actually, but of a totally different type. And while I think that #1 will also benefit from my move, #2 will most definitely benefit, in a way that is making my adreneline start to pump just thinking about writing about it! I'm really excited, which is fantastic, because it keeps me from freaking out about the fact that I haven't been able to actually put the pen to the paper, so to speak.<br /><br />I can see it in my head; going on exploratory walks, seeing everything the world has to offer, plotlines growing into more detailed versions of what I imagine, dialogue speaking to me at random times of the day or night, begging me, "WRITE ME DOWN!", which I try to always do, before I forget.<br /><br />But I'm most excited about getting back to the "gruntwork", turning the dreaming, flow-of-consciousness pictures into words, sentences, paragraphs, and hopefully pages that my story will grow from. There is no other work in the world, that I've found at least, that I enjoy both sides of the coin: the planning and the execution.<br /><br />Usually, I'm a planner. I'm slightly obsessive about it actually, and I love having time to think about all sides, and details, that are involved in the planning stage. And while I also occasionally enjoy the execution part, things rarely go as planned, and then I'm forced to think on my feet, something I can actually do well, but don't like to unless forced. I hate seeing a perfect plan fall apart, even when the outcome is just as good if not better than originally planned. It's just a weird quirk I have, one of many.<br /><br />But with writing, I love the planning, or the dreaming stage, as I tend to think of it, and I love the execution too. And even though the same thing happens, and the page turns out totally different in reality, I'm just as happy (usually) with the outcome. Because writing isn't like math; one plus one doesn't have to equal two. It can equal whatever the heck I want it to! One plus one can equal one, in the manner of two people falling in love and finding their soulmate. One plus one can equal three, in the manner of Stephenie Meyer's The Host, and I won't spoil that one by telling you how that works, in case you haven't read it yet. I recommend it, by the way, even for Twi-haters.<br /><br />What I'm getting at is, there are no wrong answers in writing. The world is a blank page with no lines, no format, no rules. I can put whatever I want, wherever I want, whenever I want.<br /><br />This makes my slightly rebellious self smile smugly. Take that, math teachers of old!! :)<br /><br />Since I've taken this time this morning to write this, I've used up most of my alloted writing time, which is okay, since writing is writing, therapudic no matter where I do it. But now I'm psyched about getting into it, digging into the grey matter and seeing what comes out, so I'll leave you until next time. Which hopefully will be sooner than last time. ;)<br /><br />Here is what I'm seeing right now, through the window next to the computer, and off the front porch. While it may not inspire you the way it does me, I wanted to share a little bit of my viewpoint. <br /><br />The reason they're all blurry is because it's snowing it's butt off, but my camera is too old and slow to actually pick up the snow itself.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOr4bCEwd-Nloz50Gq1fQB9TtdMTopmEWEWoHfoy1DlIvv-JbNEReVMhGEjanImkZG6S0iw65KK5lCAyQy3M-3AC-o5FZQRMThQQEwbA9htMcgHIl2U480Ry9YDmlubvxGWnTwRQ13gfs/s1600-h/100_3424.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 390px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOr4bCEwd-Nloz50Gq1fQB9TtdMTopmEWEWoHfoy1DlIvv-JbNEReVMhGEjanImkZG6S0iw65KK5lCAyQy3M-3AC-o5FZQRMThQQEwbA9htMcgHIl2U480Ry9YDmlubvxGWnTwRQ13gfs/s200/100_3424.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308987734605026930" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7KoywG7iqsMApBR4Bciza_qutezeZcZdJgkLncUACJ_BX7Ye2UAxWw993qUKLFpAP5SUgFhu1RJM8IhoPgZWMMIM85RRRbWgK83h_6LwToSCtHV7rwTEpxzAZRD3ZKgkktKiIFN5Ngg/s1600-h/100_3423.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 385px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7KoywG7iqsMApBR4Bciza_qutezeZcZdJgkLncUACJ_BX7Ye2UAxWw993qUKLFpAP5SUgFhu1RJM8IhoPgZWMMIM85RRRbWgK83h_6LwToSCtHV7rwTEpxzAZRD3ZKgkktKiIFN5Ngg/s200/100_3423.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308986788680465746" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNblwI3R4vV-o_UnSXrYUmZYvhFPLCOsLFeC8ZT0mrh3gNAYA4Ae9tjPDPTcm4aA_UpbmqZv2uvjlEAxpzHD4pMib_GpD9816s265kyjda2In3YevZw2b6GRieT1c_XcqMytPGg6JL7PA/s1600-h/100_3421.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 382px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNblwI3R4vV-o_UnSXrYUmZYvhFPLCOsLFeC8ZT0mrh3gNAYA4Ae9tjPDPTcm4aA_UpbmqZv2uvjlEAxpzHD4pMib_GpD9816s265kyjda2In3YevZw2b6GRieT1c_XcqMytPGg6JL7PA/s200/100_3421.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308986310282883826" border="0" /></a>Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-63250113995796052332009-02-25T21:23:00.002-05:002009-02-25T21:27:14.757-05:00Further Down the Rabbit HoleAn extension to the last entry at <a href="http://twilightphenomenon.blogspot.com/2009/02/selfish-much-bella.html">Twilight Phenomenon</a>, due to the lovely Laura making me think. Thank you Laura! ;)<br /><br />And I'm feeling a little writing later tonight, well, not too much later I hope, but after the last kid is in bed. Wish me luck! Hopefully I'll have good new for y'all tomorrow!Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-22395522902605100842009-02-24T17:03:00.002-05:002009-02-24T17:07:22.606-05:00Bear @*!&#$, Do You Need Assistance?To any of you who enjoy Stephenie Meyer's work, please give me some feedback, your own personal opinion of the matter at hand. My opinion, as usual, is stated <a href="http://twilightphenomenon.blogspot.com/2009/02/dazzled-againby-stephenie-meyer.html">here.</a> ;)Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-2285740242121697602009-02-23T12:18:00.003-05:002009-02-23T12:43:46.230-05:00Waiting For The Other ShoeI got a chance to explore my surroundings a little yesterday, which you can read about <a href="http://thoughtwithoutmeasure.blogspot.com/2009/02/easy-like-sunday-morning.html">here</a> if you want, and I've got to tell you...<br /><br />I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.<br /><br />I mean, I wasn't expecting to hate it here, and I wasn't expecting to love it either. But I feel so...ebullient, I guess, that I keep waiting for it change, for something bad to happen.<br /><br />I feel so comfortable here, in a state where I know no one, even more than I did in any of the houses we lived in on the beach. And not even that, I feel excited about things. I've never been one to get excited about new things, instead feeling a general anxiety stemming from my unreasonable shyness. But I feel different somehow, almost reckless in a way, going out of my way to talk to strangers, driving down streets I'm not familiar with (a big step considering my complete lack of directional skills), and having a generally adventuresome outlook on things.<br /><br />Also, I feel this first-love type of fluttering every time I think about writing here. This is the atmosphere I need, and I'm anxious to get started. The air itself seems to be filled with words just waiting for me to snatch them away and stick them to my paper. I feel like good things are going to happen.<br /><br />But amidst all this joyousness, there is an underlying sense of waiting. A little voice in my head whispering "<span style="font-style: italic;">moderation, Ali, moderation</span>". Because, while I am an intrinsically optimistic person, I feel like it's just too good to be true. It doesn't seem right that I should leave my home, my friends, my family, in a time of complete economic fuckary and feel so free, so unfettered from any unhappiness about my situation.<br /><br />For now though, I'm going to enjoy it, and everything else that makes me smile about this place; like the way shadows of hawks flying over us stretch and shrink as they move from hill to hollow to tree trunk, circling high above on drafts of warm air rising from the mountains, rarely flapping a wing.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >Soaring...</span>Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-16340433264630591232009-02-20T13:49:00.002-05:002009-02-20T13:58:34.516-05:00:0)Hello all! I hope everyone has been fantastic in my absence. We're settling in our new house, and I've gone back to work, so I don't have a lot of time right now, so I'm just giving you the link to our <a href="http://thoughtwithoutmeasure.blogspot.com/2009/02/georgiageorgia.html">moving story</a> on my other blog <a href="http://thoughtwithoutmeasure.blogspot.com/">Thought Without Measure</a>.<br /><br />I have tons more to say, as usual, so hopefully I'll be back sooner rather than later!<br /><br />For those of you who are fellow Twilight fans, check out <a href="http://twilightphenomenon.blogspot.com/2009/02/fake-can-be-pretty-too.html">this link</a>, I think you'll like ;)<br /><br />Until next time...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.pheasanttailridge.com/SitePhotos/NorthGeorgia-Mountains.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://www.pheasanttailridge.com/SitePhotos/NorthGeorgia-Mountains.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-28638517896754998662009-02-07T17:05:00.002-05:002009-02-07T18:10:49.932-05:00Moving To The Country, Gonna Eat A Lotta Peaches!Okay guys, this blog is officially on hold until I get relocated! I'm finishing up packing, and heading out in one week! I'm not sure how long it will take to get everything set up once I get there, but believe me....it hurts me more than it hurts you!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(I used to <span style="font-weight: bold;">hate</span> it when my mom said that to me...then I became a mother myself and it was crystal clear.)</span><br /><br />Actually, I'm supposed to be packing right now, but I've been sneaking forlorn glances at my computer all day, my finger tips just <span style="font-style: italic;">itching</span> to touch the keys...so I figured just one site would be okay, right? ;) Of course, this is the one I went to...now maybe I can squeeze in my email too...<br /><br />Well, this is goodbye for now, so I'll leave you with a little visual stimulation, inspired by Carolyn, whose delightful humor I'll miss desperately :)<br /><br />Until...well, whenever!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >Where I'm leaving...</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.novaspace.com/POSTERS/PHOTO/OuterBanks.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 451px;" src="http://www.novaspace.com/POSTERS/PHOTO/OuterBanks.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">the Outer Banks of North Carolina</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.edupic.net/Images/Beach/black_shell.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 185px;" src="http://www.edupic.net/Images/Beach/black_shell.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.edupic.net/Images/Biomes/outer_banks203.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 450px;" src="http://www.edupic.net/Images/Biomes/outer_banks203.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/family-vacations-outer-banks-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 226px;" src="http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/family-vacations-outer-banks-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://z.hubpages.com/u/90979_f520.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 202px;" src="http://z.hubpages.com/u/90979_f520.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://z.about.com/d/travelwithkids/1/0/W/b/1/Cape_Hatteras_National_Seashore_lg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 215px;" src="http://z.about.com/d/travelwithkids/1/0/W/b/1/Cape_Hatteras_National_Seashore_lg.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://cache.virtualtourist.com/935717-Rt_158_bypass_Jockeys_Ridge-Nags_Head.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 347px; height: 260px;" src="http://cache.virtualtourist.com/935717-Rt_158_bypass_Jockeys_Ridge-Nags_Head.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img2.travelblog.org/Photos/10254/100834/f/663075-Cape-Hatteras-on-the-Outer-Banks-0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 221px;" src="http://img2.travelblog.org/Photos/10254/100834/f/663075-Cape-Hatteras-on-the-Outer-Banks-0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Where I'm going...<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/SPA/1124%7EGeorgia-from-Space-Spaceshots-Posters.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 450px;" src="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/SPA/1124%7EGeorgia-from-Space-Spaceshots-Posters.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">the mountains of Northern Georgia</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dahlonegarental.com/images/dahlonega_scene_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 381px;" src="http://www.dahlonegarental.com/images/dahlonega_scene_1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.theweeklydriver.com/content_images/2/georgia2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 423px; height: 316px;" src="http://www.theweeklydriver.com/content_images/2/georgia2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://pics4.city-data.com/cpicv/vfiles27430.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 409px; height: 311px;" src="http://pics4.city-data.com/cpicv/vfiles27430.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.lanierbb.com/images/destinations/185_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 399px; height: 293px;" src="http://www.lanierbb.com/images/destinations/185_1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.moving2dahlonega.com/d_3.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 405px; height: 283px;" src="http://www.moving2dahlonega.com/d_3.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(all pictures are from the actual towns I lived in/will live in)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1121338392462486974.post-86758161321638410332009-02-02T22:57:00.002-05:002009-02-02T23:30:20.864-05:00It's Clear As GlassMy awesome 'net buddy Carolyn just put into words something that I've long understood, yet never acutally articulated, which can make all the difference in the world sometimes.<br /><br />"When we can't control the big things, we try to control the little ones."<br /><br />This is so true! I have no control over my current "big picture", so I'm totally obsessing over little things being exact. Now I've stated the reason for my neurosis, I feel much better about it.<br /><br />As usual, in times like these, I will fall back on my mantra, nicely framed here:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kingdomofstyle.typepad.co.uk/my_weblog/images/2007/07/22/vanillakeepcalm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 265px;" src="http://kingdomofstyle.typepad.co.uk/my_weblog/images/2007/07/22/vanillakeepcalm.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Word Ninjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09442734432675613510noreply@blogger.com4