All right, everybody, look here. I am not going to Serenity (and no, I'm not linking to it you pansy) until next weekend. So, I don't want to hear anything about it. I'm going into internet hibernation for awhile. (I may update my blog this weekend, but if I do, it will not be about Serenity. It will be the September book list, and you will like it.)
Now that that's done, let me just spend a moment explaining to you why I hate the producers, writers, and network carriers of Lost and Alias.
A) While I did partially take Wednesdays off to be a part of writing group, I also partially took Wednesdays off so I could watch Alias. As one of the last loyal fans, I think that should mean something. I add booo to your overall score for moving it to Thursdays at 7:00. Boooo has been added.
B) We're only into the second episode of the season, and we are already recycling footage on Lost. I realize that flaming torches are expensive, but if you're already over budget, you're in trouble. Because I was ill and having some quality couch time before heading to bed, I got to watch the replay of the season premiere and the second episode back-to-back. The second episode began with the cliffhanger from the end of the first episode AND ENDED ON THE SAME CLIFFHANGER. I feel that this sums up the entire history of the show. Boooo.
Clearly, I would have been better off spending my quality couch time with some other TV show or perhaps just plain going to bed as I had planned. At any rate, the only reason I was home was that I was sick, so in the future, perhaps I'll watch a DVD.
In an effort to keep my aura clear, I'm going to move away from spirituality and discuss writing. Imagine that. A blog called "LoWriter" that actually discusses writing.
One of the best ideas I've stolen from somewhere else (and now I don't remember where) is the idea of "The Bone Pile." This is a file on my computer. Due to several computer crashes back in the day, I now have several versions of this file, but ideally, it should be a single file.
When I write, I like to sit down at the computer and type out whatever comes to me about the topic. So sometimes, I'll be writing about fudgsicles and I'll think of something that's actually meaningful and type it in even though my topic is fudgsicles. I don't want to stop because I'm on a role, but I don't want to lose the idea, either. Obviously not much profound can actually be added to a piece about why I love fudgsicles, but when I revise the piece, I find that I want to keep this section of text. What do I do with it so that I won't lose it? I cut it and paste it into The Bone Pile.
The idea is that The Bone Pile is the place where good ideas go until they're ready for flesh. I can't take credit for it, and I have no idea where I got it. I think it came from one of my classes at Bethel, but other than that, I have no idea. Every once in awhile, a person should go sort through The Bone Pile and see what he or she has there. I always open it up when I feel stuck. I don't have anything in it that I want to share right now, but it always helps me get unstuck. Often, I find some of my best stuff hidden in The Bone Pile. Many ideas for poems and essays have originated there.
Anyone else have any good writing techniques they want to share?
Does anyone out there believe in past lives?
I realize that this blog has been getting a wee bit on the spiritual side lately, but seriously, sometimes, I wonder if people get more than one go 'round on the spinning wheel of life. Sometimes I think that spending 90 years here and an eternity in Heaven is a big damn waste. Seems to me there's lots I could do if I had several sets of 90 years.
I wrote a poem once where the narrator believes she was once a blue heron. Sometimes I think that, too. I sometimes feel that I could fly once. I used to dream that I was flying through stars. Then I'd start falling once I realized that I was dreaming. That was the only re-occurring dream I've ever had. I also sometimes fantasize that the reason I am terrified of a certain thing that I will not mention here so that it can't come back to haunt me is that I was affected by that thing in a past life. (Those of you who know me know exactly what I'm talking about.)
I think I believe in past lives in the way that I believe in fairies. They aren't in the Bible, but damn, sometimes I really hope they're real.
I would like to take this opportunity to celebrate the fact that my couch once again served its purpose well. Namely, I got to sleep on it while I was sick. There was one miserable winter when I was couchless, and it was sad. Since then, I bought the best couch in the world, which many of my friends can attest to. It's some brand name that's good (don't remember it-- Gildcraft maybe?), and it has a pillowtop. The cushions are perfect to a) snuggle with and b) sit normally on because they are made for people with long legs (like me). 10 helped me choose it, and she can attest that we walked around the Slumberland Clearance Center, sat down on this one and went, "Oh. This one." And she talked me into buying it even though I wasn't sure I could afford it, which was one of the best decisions ever.
I bring this up because I've been sick the last few days. And yes, I know this is because I a) stressed myself out, b) didn't get enough sleep, c) ate too much junk food, d) didn't exercise enough, e) drank too much last week, and d) wore myself out in general.
I am OK with all of these things. I get one week a year to go crazy because that's the way I do September. Like it, lump it, or stick it as I say these days.
Plus, it gave me a chance to really celebrate my couch the way it ought to be celebrated.
However, because I was having some quality couch time, you may not have heard from me. I apologize for anyone I may have missed over the last few days. It's not really my fault. I blame the gods, but blame me if you must. I can take it. At least I've got a nice couch.
Grandpa is now out of the hospital. Thank you for all your prayers. Yay!
If you want to pray for his continued recovery, I would be grateful. (I'll never say no to prayer for the loved ones.) :)
Thanks again, guys.
In an effort to get some sort of work accomplished today (homework for my sis and proofreading for me), my sister and I took an early trip to the grocery store today.
As we walked by the cart door (the one that only the cart return boys use), a cart boy came running out, chased by... wait for it... some guy dressed up like a giant Twinkie man. He was carrying a basket of Twinkies and holding one out to the boy he was chasing. And then he stopped and looked at me and my sis and waved at us. We were by this time laughing so hard that we could hardly walk, and so we waved and kept on walking. It was possibly the funniest thing I've seen in a very long time.
We're still laughing about it. I'm even laughing as I type this. I have to go.
Gramps didn't get to come home today because he has fluid in his lungs, which has happened in the past just before he got pneumonia.
So, I'm imposing on you all once again and asking you to pray for him.
Thanks, all.
Grandpa's surgery went well. Minor complications mean that he will be staying an extra day, but they were able to do it the less invasive way, so all is going very well.
Thank you all very much for your prayers. I know it made the difference.
Would all of you out there of the praying persuasion please pray for my Grandpa's surgery tomorrow. I have already listed the reasons why it's a concern earlier on this blog, but to summarize, please pray that they can do the surgery with the scopes or whatever it is they use that's less invasive. Also, please pray that he will pull through without any trouble from his heart and that he will not get pneumonia.
Thanks in advance.
To the Wife of a Sick Friend
By Edna St. Vincent Millay
Shelter this candle from the wind.
Hold it steady. In its light
The cave wherin we wander lost
Glitters with frosty stalactite,
Blossoms with mineral rose and lotus,
Sparkles with crystal moon and star;
Till a man would rather be lost than found:
We have forgotten where we are.
Shelter this candle. Shrewdly blowing
Down the cave from a secret door
Enters our only foe, the wind.
Hold it steady. Lest we stand,
Each in a sudden, separate dark,
The hot wax spattered upon your hand,
The smoking wick in my nostrils strong,
The inner eyelid red and green
For a moment yet with moons and roses,--
Then the unmitigated dark.
Alone, alone, in a terrible place,
In utter dark without a face,
With only the dripping of the water on the stone,
And the sound of your tears, and the taste of my own.
I have tried many times to explain what Amy meant to me, and I can't translate it. All I can say is that when the world mourns in September (over Princess Diana, over 9-11, and yes, even over Hurricane Katrina) I mourn over Amy. Maybe it's selfish, in the face of so much loss, to consider one's own personal (and past) loss important, but if such a thing is selfish, then I'll be that. I've been worse things in my time.
Well, kids, here it is: The monthly reading list.
Mostly Harmless by Douglas Adams: Another in the Hitchhiker's Guide series. Basically, it's all about Arthur and his daughter and the end of the world (again). I actually liked this book very much. It is one of my favorites in the series. I am still confused, mostly because I read this one out of order and much later than the other two, but on the whole, it's funny because it's Douglas Adams.
Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman: Muh. I think this book got warmed up by the end, but it was so slow at the beginning that I almost gave up. I could kind of tell which parts were Pratchett and which were Gaiman, and on the whole, this book had a much more cynical bent than most Pratchett books. It's about the apocalypse. It was fine, but it's not Discworld by any stretch of the imagination.
The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle: This book reminded me of One for the Morning Glory. I actually had to dig out my copy to see whether or not they were written by the same person. It's about the last unicorn left on earth trying to find out what happened to the other unicorns, but more than that, it's a story about stories. Not bad. You should check out One for the Morning Glory if you liked it because The Last Unicorn is definitely geared at a slightly younger audience.
The Bad Beginning by Lemony Snicket: I liked the movie (and I'm one of the few) so much that I had to check out the books. The first thing I would like to point out is that Count Olaf is much more disturbing and frightening in the books than he is in the movie. I'm not really sure I would let an 11 year old read these. Then again, no one ever stopped me from reading exactly what I wanted to read, so probably I wouldn't either. This is the beginning of the tale of woe for the Beaudelaire orphans.
The Reptile Room by Lemony Snicket: This book is also included in the movie, only it's much more sad than the movie makes it.
The Wide Window by Lemony Snicket: This is the third and final book to be included in the first movie. This episode is actually less disturbing in the book than it was in the movie. Count Olaf is chasing the orphans yet again. Aunt Josephine is batty. That's about all.
The Miserable Mill by Lemony Snicket: I really did not like this book in the series. The pattern began to get really repetitious here (that's what I get for reading four juvenile lit books in a row), and the plot was ridiculous when compared to the others.
The Austere Academy by Lemony Snicket: This book was better and worse than the others. It was better because some new characters (who didn't die... yet) showed up. This changed the formula of the books up to this point and made the book a much more interesting read. It was worse because the events are even more miserable than previous. I find a lot of this stuff funny, though, and it's probably because Snicket defines most of the big words in a humorous way and also because his lists of horrible things always ends with something much less horrible than everything before it. (Like facing flesh eating leeches, Count Olaf, and itchy clothes.) On the whole, these books are fine, but maybe don't try to read them one right after another because they are geared pretty young.
Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett: I came back to an old favorite here because I was feeling a little down after all the death and destruction of the Beaudelaires (and the fact that my sis moved to Iowa). This is the second in the witches books by Pratchett. I started with this one because Wyrd Sisters didn't come in early enough. The witches go to Genua at "Fat Lunchtime" (similar to Mardi Gras in our world) in order to save a girl from marrying a prince. It gets more interesting from there. This book pulls in lots of characters from popular culture and literature, including a running joke about dwarf bread (similar to elven bread, only it's completely inedible). My favorite scene is when the witches are rowing down a lake in a cave in the mountain and a slimy creature (AKA Gollum) climbs up on the boat and says, "It'th my birthhhhday" and everybody stares at him for a second and then Granny Weatherwax hits him with an oar. I laughed out loud. High quality book-- possibly my favorite read this month.
The Master Butchers' Singing Club by Louise Erdrich: Louise Erdrich always makes me cry, and this book was no exception. This is the story of a guy and a girl who fall in love just in time to be old together (which was rather anticlimactic in my opinion). I can't tell you more without spoiling the story. I thought the book was kind of depressing, but Erdrich always includes things that make me stop and think. I liked The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse much better.
Well, kids, feel free to share your own lists in the comments. Otherwise, happy reading!