Friday, October 15, 2010
So grateful it is Friday
What an exhausting extra long work day. Thank goodness it is Friday. Anyway I was checking out one of my favourite bibliophile blogs to see if she had updated anything recently (You Can Never Have Too Many Books) at http://susanflynn.blogspot.com and in the depths of her last post she has a link to another bibliophile who also linked off to the Fashion section of the NYTimes where there is an article that states that burying noses in books is "somewhat isolating" absolute darn right - but this fashion columnist seems to think that its wrong - and that the ebook is going to encourage readers in public to be more interactive - who in the heck wants to interact when their reading, thats why they are reading!! otherwise they would be talking. What is sad is that the ebook is supposedly going to be some kind of fashion accessory - the only reason I can think of why it is in the fashion section. Anyway, too many late nights this week and I have a quilting workshop to attend in the morning.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Seasons in the writing process
Writing is a lonely pastime - with most activities there is a coach or team cheering the participant on but with writing its just the writer and the inner critic. An internal editor has its place in our life, it helps prevent us from making prat of ourselves, it acts like sand in polishing the surface of a rough stone. But it can also be the bane of a writers life, whether it be writing for pleasure, education, or work - allow it too much lee-way and the writing becomes like a plane overloaded with cargo, it just cant get off the runway.
My editor is on 24 hours because I draft technical reports, memos, and letters, for a living. Even my telephone conversations are guarded, because I am acutely aware of the diplomacy required in my role. So unfortunately by the time I get home, the editor remands on guard, and I struggle to get words that I have typed or written, to stay on the paper or screen. I can end up editing the same pages for days, even months.
I was reading over at Notdesignedtojuggle.wordpress and picked up a link to http://www.andyshacks.com/ about a nifty trick that helps to bypass the critic. The method involves acknowledging the internal critic's dilemma with a phrase or sentence even, by flagging it for ponderance at a later time, and then moving on with the creative flow. So in essence, Andy's advice suggests parking the problem phrase, sentence scene, and signalling like so with he hash key #. I cant work out how to put a link in here so any reader wanting to read in his masters words will have to go over to Andy's pages and read the advice for themself.
The Chilean miners have surfaced, and big celebrations are abound. The strength and courage shown by all of them is remarkable, and the relief the families must be feeling will be overwelming. Its timely for me to remember a couple of the many things I am grateful for:
*Living in the country in fresh air
*Living and working in a reasonably healthy space
*The late Allen Carr, and his book The Easy Way to Stop Smoking (5 mths)
*Human capacity for ingenuity (without which the miners may still be below ground)
*Companionship of hubby
*Having read Desiderata - thank you Max Ehrmann
My editor is on 24 hours because I draft technical reports, memos, and letters, for a living. Even my telephone conversations are guarded, because I am acutely aware of the diplomacy required in my role. So unfortunately by the time I get home, the editor remands on guard, and I struggle to get words that I have typed or written, to stay on the paper or screen. I can end up editing the same pages for days, even months.
I was reading over at Notdesignedtojuggle.wordpress and picked up a link to http://www.andyshacks.com/ about a nifty trick that helps to bypass the critic. The method involves acknowledging the internal critic's dilemma with a phrase or sentence even, by flagging it for ponderance at a later time, and then moving on with the creative flow. So in essence, Andy's advice suggests parking the problem phrase, sentence scene, and signalling like so with he hash key #. I cant work out how to put a link in here so any reader wanting to read in his masters words will have to go over to Andy's pages and read the advice for themself.
The Chilean miners have surfaced, and big celebrations are abound. The strength and courage shown by all of them is remarkable, and the relief the families must be feeling will be overwelming. Its timely for me to remember a couple of the many things I am grateful for:
*Living in the country in fresh air
*Living and working in a reasonably healthy space
*The late Allen Carr, and his book The Easy Way to Stop Smoking (5 mths)
*Human capacity for ingenuity (without which the miners may still be below ground)
*Companionship of hubby
*Having read Desiderata - thank you Max Ehrmann
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
National Novel Writing Month
Noting that my last entry was nearly a month ago, I feel a bit silly recording that I've signed up for NanoWrMo but what the heck. Its lonely in them there hills (well at the little corner desk) and this is the only writing company I'm going to get. So come 1 November 2010 its clackety clack and away.
I cant work out how to get the official badge on my blog, so I'm just plastering here. Hopefully the badge has some kind of special power or hypnotic effect that will get me past page two of the novel.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Weekend Dispondency
The lack of words in my world of fiction is hanging over me, much like the grey clouds outside. Work has been so busy that by the time I get home I am too mentally shattered to write. My creativity has been poured into the drafting I do for a living. Plans to do some "me time" writing flew out the door. I slept in yesterday, made a much needed call to my sister in England, then headed out to the Pirongia Craft fair. While the fair might seem a frivolous waste of time compared to writing, hubby has been as busy at work as I, so we decided we needed to shake off the pressure and get away from home & work (I had seriously contemplated going into the office again to make a dent in the work for next week but decided against it).
The Pirongia fair has been a regular calendar event for some years, and much talked about within the town. It's a pleasant drive to Pirongia, and it is a lovely wee village. Well the weather did not let us down, it remained the same as it has been for the last couple of weeks, wet. But it did not deter us, I had my new trusty oilskin coat & hubby had his thermals on under his coat so we strolled around for a couple of h0urs taking in all the different stalls. We stopped for tea on the front lawn of some kind mature ladies who have regularly put on high tea for the event - we must have a looked rediculous seated under the sun umbrella wrapped up in wet weather gear sipping tea and nibbling cake, but it was good tonic for the way things have been so hectic of late.
Im thinking of taking up the writing challenge in the Nanonovember thingy, even though Ive also signed up for a quilting course. I took some relief reading somewhere that there are quite a few authors who did not complete their novels until into their 60's so someone late 40's is a spring chicken.
The Pirongia fair has been a regular calendar event for some years, and much talked about within the town. It's a pleasant drive to Pirongia, and it is a lovely wee village. Well the weather did not let us down, it remained the same as it has been for the last couple of weeks, wet. But it did not deter us, I had my new trusty oilskin coat & hubby had his thermals on under his coat so we strolled around for a couple of h0urs taking in all the different stalls. We stopped for tea on the front lawn of some kind mature ladies who have regularly put on high tea for the event - we must have a looked rediculous seated under the sun umbrella wrapped up in wet weather gear sipping tea and nibbling cake, but it was good tonic for the way things have been so hectic of late.
Im thinking of taking up the writing challenge in the Nanonovember thingy, even though Ive also signed up for a quilting course. I took some relief reading somewhere that there are quite a few authors who did not complete their novels until into their 60's so someone late 40's is a spring chicken.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Celebrating diversity
I was going to rage about narrow mindness, fanatical intolerance etc, after becoming aware of some pratt in the USA who felt it their duty to carry out a despicable offensive act of which could have horrendous reverberations across the globe, and worse still perports to be a Christian, pot kettle black is what springs to mind, but it is late at night & there is enough negative energy in the world as it is. So instead, I thought it was a good time to celebrate diversity.
I was listening to Sea sick Steve this afternoon, my latest CD acquisition, and marvelling over how after a whole album I did'nt get bored listening to his lyrics and voice, both of which seemed to be quite unique in each song. It made for a nice Sunday afternoon, never mind the rain, I had good sounds, good company (hubby was listening too), and a good book.
I just joined Litopia Writers' Colony, requiring a description of myself, my likes, my aspirations, and it occured to me that I am extremely grateful for the eclectic taste in books, music, food, just about everything, that I have been gifted. I enjoy all sorts of sounds, although I have a wee aversion to "pop" stuff, mainly the stuff churned out that sounds all the same, more video candy than a work of art, but opera, classical music, blues, jazz, country, country rock, spiritual, even some of the stuff the teens are listening to, I rejuvenated my love of Big Band, thanks to Harry Conick Jnr, so Glen Miller was on the turntable a while ago, and a quick trip down nostalgia with Vera Lyn, and a few of the mid & post WWII sounds.
My collection of books is the same, across all the genre's. I just finished reading about Vita Sackville-West, her marriage, then on to a book about Sissinghurst by her grandson Andrew. While the gardens Vita & Harold created are a source of pride for the family, and survive as a result of the National Trust, there was a lot of emotional pain passed down through the Nicolson/Sackville-West family, and its astounding that Andrew appears to have either escaped (through the love of his wife and children, and his siblings) the residue of that, or has been healed from it one way or another.
Like families, countries can carry the emotional scars of the past, and the question is when is it time to bury the past, leave it behind, and move on to live the life deserved, free of all the animosity and fear. It is like living with a permanent stain in their psyche - no matter how they try to leave it behind, someone somewhere around the world is going to constantly draw attention to it, reignite it, use it to get themselves or their views in the headlines, - the ego.
Going back to the Sackville-West/Nicolson family, I kept wondering who was looking after the children while Vita disappeared off to visit girlfriends, lovers, etc. As a mother myself, I know there is no just packing up and taking off for a few days/weeks/months, it just doesnt happen, parenting is a partnership, and the most important role a person is going to have in life. So who was looking after Nigel & Ben? I'm not naive, I know that it was time when nanny's did the bulk of parenting, and parents tended to not be hands-on. But what a disaster, reading Andrew's account of his father, Nigel, was very sad. Had Vita & Harold been like Andrew & his wife, Nigel would have been touch with who he was, and then a better responsive parent. Andrew seems to have put to rest the ghosts of the colourful lives his grandparents lived, especially when it was published for the world to then pick over while he was quite young.
Theres that saying about what doesnt kill us, makes us stronger - well Andrew must be quite a rock. There are so many different stories from around the world told about family, what family was, and what it has become. I suppose if we look at the world from that perspective, see each country as a member of the greater world family, and whenever one country falls out with another, its just sibling interaction - but why is it that someone has to be "right" and by default the other "wrong", or "accepted" and "unaccepted". Looks like we are still a long way from the melting pot that Joni Mitchell once sung about.
Things I'm grateful for today:
A sleep in
Libraries
Food for dinner
Clean Water
Open mind
I was listening to Sea sick Steve this afternoon, my latest CD acquisition, and marvelling over how after a whole album I did'nt get bored listening to his lyrics and voice, both of which seemed to be quite unique in each song. It made for a nice Sunday afternoon, never mind the rain, I had good sounds, good company (hubby was listening too), and a good book.
I just joined Litopia Writers' Colony, requiring a description of myself, my likes, my aspirations, and it occured to me that I am extremely grateful for the eclectic taste in books, music, food, just about everything, that I have been gifted. I enjoy all sorts of sounds, although I have a wee aversion to "pop" stuff, mainly the stuff churned out that sounds all the same, more video candy than a work of art, but opera, classical music, blues, jazz, country, country rock, spiritual, even some of the stuff the teens are listening to, I rejuvenated my love of Big Band, thanks to Harry Conick Jnr, so Glen Miller was on the turntable a while ago, and a quick trip down nostalgia with Vera Lyn, and a few of the mid & post WWII sounds.
My collection of books is the same, across all the genre's. I just finished reading about Vita Sackville-West, her marriage, then on to a book about Sissinghurst by her grandson Andrew. While the gardens Vita & Harold created are a source of pride for the family, and survive as a result of the National Trust, there was a lot of emotional pain passed down through the Nicolson/Sackville-West family, and its astounding that Andrew appears to have either escaped (through the love of his wife and children, and his siblings) the residue of that, or has been healed from it one way or another.
Like families, countries can carry the emotional scars of the past, and the question is when is it time to bury the past, leave it behind, and move on to live the life deserved, free of all the animosity and fear. It is like living with a permanent stain in their psyche - no matter how they try to leave it behind, someone somewhere around the world is going to constantly draw attention to it, reignite it, use it to get themselves or their views in the headlines, - the ego.
Going back to the Sackville-West/Nicolson family, I kept wondering who was looking after the children while Vita disappeared off to visit girlfriends, lovers, etc. As a mother myself, I know there is no just packing up and taking off for a few days/weeks/months, it just doesnt happen, parenting is a partnership, and the most important role a person is going to have in life. So who was looking after Nigel & Ben? I'm not naive, I know that it was time when nanny's did the bulk of parenting, and parents tended to not be hands-on. But what a disaster, reading Andrew's account of his father, Nigel, was very sad. Had Vita & Harold been like Andrew & his wife, Nigel would have been touch with who he was, and then a better responsive parent. Andrew seems to have put to rest the ghosts of the colourful lives his grandparents lived, especially when it was published for the world to then pick over while he was quite young.
Theres that saying about what doesnt kill us, makes us stronger - well Andrew must be quite a rock. There are so many different stories from around the world told about family, what family was, and what it has become. I suppose if we look at the world from that perspective, see each country as a member of the greater world family, and whenever one country falls out with another, its just sibling interaction - but why is it that someone has to be "right" and by default the other "wrong", or "accepted" and "unaccepted". Looks like we are still a long way from the melting pot that Joni Mitchell once sung about.
Things I'm grateful for today:
A sleep in
Libraries
Food for dinner
Clean Water
Open mind
Monday, August 30, 2010
How many books is too many books
Workwise it has been one of the busiest months I have experienced for nearly a decade. With more time inside now that tobacco is out of my life for good (seriously this time), I have returned to the crossword, and increased the book uptake. The crossword is a wander through the park really, it isn't a huge challenge by any means, I'm not talking cryptic crossword (though I would love to learn how to do these, being an avid fan of Inspector Morse - Colin Dextor's Oxford criminologist), so I've approached some poetry for a change, (amoungst the many other books on the go).
I'm going to show my ignorance here, in that poetry to me, has been a bit elusive. Poetry is a bit like the rubik cube, some people seem to simply 'get it', then there is people like myself that grasp rhyme, then get lost when we hit the lengthy stuff.
I was reading Susan Flynn's blog "You can never have too many books" and she has journeyed down the poetry path as well, though her profile suggests that the path is a familiar one for her, more a reaquantance than a new experience. She too cited Dr Seuss as lighting her love for rhythm & rhyme, and as soon as I read her blog for 26/8/10 it took me back to when I initially stumbled, then became more confident with reading, and loved Seuss's stories. Sometime after my teens poetry and I parted, briefly returning in my late 20's sporadically, owing mainly to my love of Horace Rumpole of the Bailey, John Mortimer's invention of a crusty defence lawyer. Horace was for ever breaking out in poetry recitation, mainly Wordsworth, but I loved it - and envied him having poetry at his disposal like a comforting blanket.
And so it was that I made off to the 2010 Red Cross Book Sale, and contributed a fair share of our income to the cause. I came away with at least another dozen books, several of which are of poetry, to help with the renewed vigour in trying to make sense of it. I have always like Rudyard Kipling, so he came home with me, and Faber Popular Reciter collated by Kingsley Amis, which has some real old fashioned gems, that even a newbie like me recognised. All for practically nothing.
There are now stacks of new (well pre-loved) books waiting for me to run a cursory eye over before they are put on the shelf. I would hazard a guess that the book count is now exceedingly high. But I'm not good at culling my books, they are my friends, I go to them whenever I'm feeling low, high, or in-between, they are like friends that offer me comfort, and nurture me through rough times. The man of the house doesnt bond to this degree with his books, and tends to have an annual spring clean, donating the unwanted books to Red Cross, or Lion, Rotary whichever is calling for donations. I can't bring myself to give any of my books away. However, on Saturday I did buy a Colin Dexter which I thought at the time looked very familiar, and found when I got home I now own two of the same book - a dilemma not faced before. So I am pleased to say I have a book to donate next year - an extra Dexter (maybe I am a budding poet after all).
Things I am grateful for this month:
My supportive work colleagues.
The man of the house for cooking when Ive been too tired.
The same man of the house for doing the housework while I worked on Saturdays.
Having employment, when so many don't.
Books that transport my mind to places I have neither the time nor the funds to take me there.
I'm going to show my ignorance here, in that poetry to me, has been a bit elusive. Poetry is a bit like the rubik cube, some people seem to simply 'get it', then there is people like myself that grasp rhyme, then get lost when we hit the lengthy stuff.
I was reading Susan Flynn's blog "You can never have too many books" and she has journeyed down the poetry path as well, though her profile suggests that the path is a familiar one for her, more a reaquantance than a new experience. She too cited Dr Seuss as lighting her love for rhythm & rhyme, and as soon as I read her blog for 26/8/10 it took me back to when I initially stumbled, then became more confident with reading, and loved Seuss's stories. Sometime after my teens poetry and I parted, briefly returning in my late 20's sporadically, owing mainly to my love of Horace Rumpole of the Bailey, John Mortimer's invention of a crusty defence lawyer. Horace was for ever breaking out in poetry recitation, mainly Wordsworth, but I loved it - and envied him having poetry at his disposal like a comforting blanket.
And so it was that I made off to the 2010 Red Cross Book Sale, and contributed a fair share of our income to the cause. I came away with at least another dozen books, several of which are of poetry, to help with the renewed vigour in trying to make sense of it. I have always like Rudyard Kipling, so he came home with me, and Faber Popular Reciter collated by Kingsley Amis, which has some real old fashioned gems, that even a newbie like me recognised. All for practically nothing.
There are now stacks of new (well pre-loved) books waiting for me to run a cursory eye over before they are put on the shelf. I would hazard a guess that the book count is now exceedingly high. But I'm not good at culling my books, they are my friends, I go to them whenever I'm feeling low, high, or in-between, they are like friends that offer me comfort, and nurture me through rough times. The man of the house doesnt bond to this degree with his books, and tends to have an annual spring clean, donating the unwanted books to Red Cross, or Lion, Rotary whichever is calling for donations. I can't bring myself to give any of my books away. However, on Saturday I did buy a Colin Dexter which I thought at the time looked very familiar, and found when I got home I now own two of the same book - a dilemma not faced before. So I am pleased to say I have a book to donate next year - an extra Dexter (maybe I am a budding poet after all).
Things I am grateful for this month:
My supportive work colleagues.
The man of the house for cooking when Ive been too tired.
The same man of the house for doing the housework while I worked on Saturdays.
Having employment, when so many don't.
Books that transport my mind to places I have neither the time nor the funds to take me there.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Life intervenes
No writing has occurred, lots of reading and watching rugby in between housework, gardening etc. It's the et cetera that gobbles up the time leaving little tangible evidence. A bit like electricity, it cant be seen but we have complete faith it is there when we flick a switch. So I need to be more mindful, take in what I'm doing which spring-boards nicely to one of the several books I am reading - The Happiness Trap - Stop Struggling, Start Living by Dr Russ Harris (I'm also reading a book by Anne Fine but that's another story hehehe).
Essentially Dr Harris offers an alternative to falling victim (psychologically speaking) to the endless chatter that fills our mind which can be quite destructive if left unchecked - not much different to an unsupervised toddler. We have all heard the 'judge', 'jury', critic, victim, type stories that rush through our minds. Good news is that our thoughts are just words/symbols flitting through our mind, and as long as we realise this and keep reminding ourselves of this, then we might have a better chance at surviving the barrage of negative stuff these words can throw at us - so rather than be at the whim of some crazy angry woman (at worse, on a bad day in the life of a menopausal moment) I can choose to thank the mind for the 'story' because that is all thoughts really are, and in doing this the thoughts are 'diffused', rather than reverberate they just ripple a bit.
Were I reading this book only, I would be through it faster, but I'm a word/book glutton so I don't have a complete overview of the therapy yet. So far though, I like what I have read of the six core principles of 'ACT' (Acceptance & Commitment Therapy) which help a person to "a) effectively handle painful thoughts and feelings, and b) t0 create a rich, full and meaningful life...". I already have a rich, full and meaningful life, I'm just too busy sometimes to enjoy it.
Hence, no writing.
Essentially Dr Harris offers an alternative to falling victim (psychologically speaking) to the endless chatter that fills our mind which can be quite destructive if left unchecked - not much different to an unsupervised toddler. We have all heard the 'judge', 'jury', critic, victim, type stories that rush through our minds. Good news is that our thoughts are just words/symbols flitting through our mind, and as long as we realise this and keep reminding ourselves of this, then we might have a better chance at surviving the barrage of negative stuff these words can throw at us - so rather than be at the whim of some crazy angry woman (at worse, on a bad day in the life of a menopausal moment) I can choose to thank the mind for the 'story' because that is all thoughts really are, and in doing this the thoughts are 'diffused', rather than reverberate they just ripple a bit.
Were I reading this book only, I would be through it faster, but I'm a word/book glutton so I don't have a complete overview of the therapy yet. So far though, I like what I have read of the six core principles of 'ACT' (Acceptance & Commitment Therapy) which help a person to "a) effectively handle painful thoughts and feelings, and b) t0 create a rich, full and meaningful life...". I already have a rich, full and meaningful life, I'm just too busy sometimes to enjoy it.
Hence, no writing.
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