tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10296842031248522712024-03-13T03:07:33.242-07:00Marcy SantosAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-43743005225739353052018-01-06T23:38:00.001-08:002018-01-06T23:38:13.013-08:00I've been gone for too long. There is just too much of life to write random shit that no one reads, but I'm going to try. I'll try not to care if it's not shared, and I'll try not to cry. There's no guarantees in life except that we'll die, and that's just too depressing to hold on to. So, I'll share the ride even if I'm the only one to care.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-71158069068980851452016-09-20T23:38:00.002-07:002016-09-20T23:48:13.579-07:00SO MUCH FOR THAT<div style="color: #3d596d; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25.5px; margin-bottom: 24px;">
So much for writing every day. Life intervened, and I'm not even going to try and catch you up to date. Let's just start anew. Suffice it to say that I'm doing well, maybe better than that. I have a new job and a new outlook. I've been working on being positive more than negative. It's the 5 to 1 principle. This means that you give five positives for every negative comment or redirection. This is based on research that shows successful businesses and marriages are based on this principle. I learned this in research I was conducting to create and present information in a workshop for my new position. It changed my life. Well, I hope it changes my life. </div>
<div style="color: #3d596d; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25.5px; margin-bottom: 24px;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-baPE4U85ne0/V-Isu7yMSlI/AAAAAAAAFJU/QEsPZwY86J03CM7_R5Ng9JG2NQNhQRjFACK4B/s1600/momsday2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-baPE4U85ne0/V-Isu7yMSlI/AAAAAAAAFJU/QEsPZwY86J03CM7_R5Ng9JG2NQNhQRjFACK4B/s320/momsday2.jpg" width="320" /></a>My son is a recluse at 16 years old. I don't know why. He's had a Beaver Cleaver childhood with the same home, parents, and rules. It's not that we are overly negative people. But the odds are that if you do something, our immediate family and extended family will tease, lecture, or give you advice. This is negative and we definitely don't overpower this with positive remarks or recognition. It comes from a good place; we want to help each other get better.However, it makes the odds of dealing with each other, and in the case of my son dealing with all people, a losing proposition. So, who's going to play those odds? It's a game my son has opted out of.</div>
<div style="color: #3d596d; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25.5px; margin-bottom: 24px;">
I have been trying to turn around the odds in favor of interaction by educating and emphasizing the importance of positive feedback. There has been some hurt feelings and arguments in this process too, but I assure them all that I'm also on a steep learning curve. It is important to note that positive feedback is most effective if the feedback is genuine and specific to an action that deserves positive attention and is beneficial in its repetition. In effect, we make our interactions an overall higher percentage of win to fail. THAT's a game worth playing; one in which you have a great likelihood of winning. Therefore, the hope is that my son will get back in the game of personal interactions because the odds are in his favor to feel good when he interacts with people.</div>
<div style="color: #3d596d; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25.5px; margin-bottom: 24px;">
In the first week of my new 'smiley face' theory, my husband began kissing me good-bye in the morning again after ten years. I hadn't even thought how this would impact my relationship with my husband. We had a good relationship. We liked to spend time together. I feel more loving towards him too. WOW! I even began sending him nice loving text messages during the day.</div>
<div style="color: #3d596d; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25.5px; margin-bottom: 24px;">
By the second week, with a few renewed efforts, my son began to seek us out for interactions and conversations. He began to go places with us again like the store and the movies. He began initiating hugs and affection-he had never done this before. He began saying nice things to us! Yes, he's a teenager. He would call me 'Dumbo' before, and now he's telling me that I'm a great teacher. I am flabbergasted and elated.</div>
<div style="color: #3d596d; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25.5px;">
I never thought that such a small change, though it does take concerted thought to continue, could impact my life so completely. Give it a try and share your stories with me. I hope they transform your life too.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-71255337206799960712015-02-28T12:31:00.001-08:002015-02-28T12:31:47.591-08:00FADE AWAY<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qb3gmF0T1y4" width="480"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-39407525443450214972015-02-27T10:59:00.001-08:002015-02-27T10:59:21.078-08:00My "Maybe" Song<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0YkIp9cX2HI" width="480"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-41493982551662687112014-07-28T23:23:00.002-07:002014-07-28T23:23:43.445-07:00If Only...<div class="MsoNormal">
If only I had all day to write and dream up words and worlds
that would last forever. If only I didn’t have a time job that
sucks out most of my energy. If only I didn’t have a family that I love to
spend time with. If only I didn’t have to bathe and eat and all those other
things necessary to survive in society. If only I could prove and show the
genius behind these bars to the world. If only I could let loose instead of tapping
a tin cup against the steel cage in which my writer’s soul thrashes. If only I
could deny the world my presence to create a present the world can unwrap their
minds around for eternity.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-45059958036212306572014-06-24T18:44:00.002-07:002014-07-28T23:30:56.364-07:00Great American Pitch Fest 2014<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><span style="font-family: 'Open Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am still recuperating from an exhausting two days at the Great American Pitch Fest. It was held at the Marriott Hotel and Conference Center across from the Burbank Airport, California. How could I turn down two days jam-packed with seminars and like-minded screenwriters for $25? I couldn’t. After teaching summer school, I drove wildly through the Los Angeles freeways Friday madness and arrived in time to gobble down a sandwich that I packed that morning (thankfully since that was all I ate all day) and register. The classes lasted an hour and a half each. They ran from 1:00 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. on Friday and from 11:00 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. on Saturday. I didn't attend the pitch event on Sunday because I knew that I wasn't ready quite yet, and I couldn't stand all that rejection on my birthday. The speakers were varied: agents, authors, directors, managers, producers, and writing coaches. I left with more skill, but less hope of actually breaking into screenplay super stardom. I am exhausted, mentally and physically. My back and bum ache from the slightly padded conference seats. The best part was learning specific skill sets that I can apply to my art. The </span><span class="hiddenSpellError" pre="The " style="border-bottom-color: red; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; cursor: default; font-family: 'Open Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; white-space: pre-wrap;">camaraderie</span><span style="font-family: 'Open Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> was nice, but sparse. It is a competitive market. The worst parts were the statistics. Shane Black said, “93% of you have no talent. I can say that because you all think that you are the 7% that do have talent.” Is that me? A published author and paid screenwriter said that it took most people 10 years to practice writing before they were good enough to get sold. In spite of stark statistics, I rest and continue writing even if I’m too old, not talented, and inexperienced.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-35234750419580072422014-02-20T21:26:00.002-08:002014-07-28T23:33:22.909-07:00Ready the Blow<span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23.799999237060547px;">I tell myself over and over again, "Ready yourself for the blows." I have read about famous authors with staggering numbers of rejections or a now best-selling novel that was rejected numerous times. I think I'm ready for that first 'no' as sure as losing the lottery. BUT, it still stings. I will never be ready. Another person in California won the $425 million PowerBall, AND I got my first agent pass. It was a polite and inspiring rejection, but it doesn't matter how it's served. It hurts and emotional nerve-endings inflame. I must massage my ego back to work and continue to buy more lottery tickets. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-74536639664659237602014-02-20T20:40:00.001-08:002014-07-28T23:31:19.344-07:00Friendly Edits<span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">I begged some of my family, close friends and peers, who happen to be very intelligent educators, to read my children's short chapter book. They gave incredible feedback. At first I was elated because it unstuck me. I had finished and edited a few times already. I just didn't know where to go with it; I was stuck in a catatonic state. They gave me that little push to get rolling again down that hill, and the movement was exhilarating. But then I couldn't seem to stop and the feat seemed near impossible. I'm not the type of rider that likes to climb steep roller-coaster mountains and zoom down at break-neck speed. So, I have to forcefully put the breaks on and slow down the revisions and the dizzying 180 degree turns. This is what it's all about: the elation, creation, sweat, tears, and lottery quest for publication.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">This is a ride that can dump me at the back of the line again and again, and why not? So many better before me have waited there too.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-78085580850676034122014-01-20T20:40:00.000-08:002014-01-20T20:40:41.231-08:00One More Notch on the PencilI finished a short children's chapter book last week, a very rough draft. This week, I finished a first reread and edit. Tomorrow, I will send out to friends for feedback.<br />
<br />
I began this journey with an idea in mind and mulled it over for a few weeks. I created a quick outline for each chapter. Then, I jumped right in and wrote it. I had to tell myself constantly to just let it flow even though it might be runny diarrhea of ruminations. The real craft comes in the edits. It worked and I finished the whole process in about six weeks.<br />
<br />
Now on to receiving criticism with grace and wit enough to stick to the original vision,yet be flexible enough to see the wisdom in their words. Maybe I'll even sell it and then won't that make my year?<br />
<br />
On to the next project, bigger and better.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-42886793067329175172013-12-17T11:10:00.000-08:002013-12-17T11:10:00.690-08:00My Merry Mad Way<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been a while since I posted anything, and this may be
nothing too. The concrete has taken over and weighed me down. I vacillate
between wanting to write and filling the needs of my family. Can I write to
help my family and fill both needs? It doesn’t work that way, at least for me.
I have to be in a place mentally and physically in which I lose myself in the
process, living upon a different level. But thoughts intrude on even the most
secluded moments (though these are few). I think to myself about what will
please the reader, the editor, grammar police…I get spun around by tornadoes of
thought and strain against the winds to reach what? No one will want to read
the pinnacle of my piece until everyone wants to read it. Therein lies the
crux: to go along my merry mad way or to bow to an audience of finance?</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-68274690436226857742013-10-20T21:52:00.003-07:002013-10-20T21:53:34.874-07:00Dreading Monday teaching in the 'hood. Here is one of many reasons:<div class="MsoNormal">
NO ONE CRIES</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
talking to another teacher</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
just outside my classroom</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
with an interruptive feature</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
boom, boom, boom, boom</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
we paused and wondered </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and then continued to talk</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
something closely plundered</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
just around the corner walk</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
it was on the news that night</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
a man from another division</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
walking his sister on the right</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
on a street just west of Mission</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
kids were streaming home</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
walking by the local school</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
some groups, some lonesome</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
all ethnic types were cool</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
a car stopped on the street</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the passenger jumped out</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
ran behind the man with heat</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and popped him real neat</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
just one hurt in that crime</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and the shooter got away</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
but many more were shot in time</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
many more were yet to pay</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
our students gathered round</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the fallen man and distraught</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
when emergency crews found</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and a war was randomly wrought</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was not there, but saw the news</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and prepared for student trauma</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the next day as we faced the bruise</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
but they shrugged and continued on</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-16537379190604716302013-08-24T14:07:00.001-07:002013-08-24T14:13:15.066-07:00Research Rally<div style="border: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Pouring my minutes and moments into two new projects, a script and a book. I’m finishing research and brain storming for the script as I step lightly into the writing. Does research and idea generation ever REALLY stop? So excited that I’ve got to rein in my creative chaos to organize a written wallop of all those chimeras.<br />
<br />
<br />
I am also planning for a book with possibilities of many volumes. This presents a huge amount of research and planning from settings, characters, and plots. Writers out there know how research can take over your life and time, sometimes a curse and at others a celebration.<br />
<br />
<br />
All in all, loving it!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-35618340532394041452013-07-15T22:28:00.001-07:002013-07-15T22:28:17.384-07:00Film Writing Failure<div class="MsoNormal">
So, a year ago I wrote my first script. It was 130 pages! I
know, I know. I tried to trim it down but I couldn't part with any more after
trimming 20 pages from that. I decided to write a family action film that my
son and I had talked about because I figured it would be a throw away first
film. When I finished, I immediately began to write another one as I submitted
that one to a contest.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To my surprise and delight, I made it through the first
round...but most everyone did. They also offered services to critique your
film. AHA! They wanted me to pay for some extra services or a fee to resubmit
with changes! I wasn't going to fall for that trick. I just let it ride through
the next round, and it made it. Now, I was getting giddy with dreams of a big
paycheck and stardom. This time, I did cut the pages down and paid an extra fee
to resubmit with a rewrite. I made it through the next round too. My dreams
exploded. I blazed through pages of Zillow to find my new dream home in Newport
Beach. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, the final round results came after months of build up.
I read the names five times, and mine was missing. Dashed! I had finished two
more scripts in this time and a few more contests too. Nothing had gone well.
How could I have let myself get carried away? I know it takes TIME to get good
at a thing. Did I really think that I could make it big on my first script?
YES!!! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Now, I have to bolster my esteem and keep
writing. Ahhhh. It's so difficult, and I feel so guilty for licking my wounds
and whining too long to myself. The plan: share the pain in my blog, get group
feedback on my scripts, and settle for being a bad writer...till the next round.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-15000009713173565542013-07-12T15:48:00.003-07:002013-07-12T15:48:30.318-07:00Meetup.com is better than class warfare!<div class="MsoNormal">
I did it. I joined a writer's group from meetup.com, and I
love it. We get to hear other people read their projects and I get to read
mine. Being that I already think mine is crap, I'm not shy to share. In the
past two weeks, I was surprised that some of my poems were well received, and
the comments were spectacular! Members gave me spot-on advice for crafting blog
posts too. Best of all, I didn't have to pay anyone. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So yesterday, I read the twelve page beginning of a script
that I wrote for a contest recently. Twelve pages that I toiled over for weeks
and then submitted. To my utter surprise, I did not win and I didn't know why.
My writing group said that the action did not happen soon enough (meaning=bored
at the beginning). "Where do you think the action begins?" I asked. ALL
the members said a point near the end of my twelve page well-crafted, and what
I thought was exciting action. Basically, I spent weeks just crafting a back
story. Hmmmm. I'm still deciding if I want to start all over. No, I'm just
pulling your leg or my leg. I definitely don't want to give this project any
more of my time. Why? I don't think that I have the background or knowledge to
write about the region and historical period to give the story it's due. I
still love the idea; I'm just not the person to research and write it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I'm still overjoyed with the revelation. Chip,
chip away at my ignorance.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-74970947672276842812013-07-06T10:44:00.000-07:002013-07-06T17:20:08.565-07:00DREAMER<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SM5bPXQqyN8/UdhW5U1oQBI/AAAAAAAABJo/xdkN1t1E89A/s1600/IMG_4528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SM5bPXQqyN8/UdhW5U1oQBI/AAAAAAAABJo/xdkN1t1E89A/s320/IMG_4528.jpg" width="212" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Who am I if not a dreamer?</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not a writer or poet</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">not a teacher or mother</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
maybe before the age of steam</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
people worked too hard to dream</div>
</span><o:p><div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
</o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
Who am I if not a dreamer?</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
not a sports enthusiast</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
not an actor or gardener</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
work is now compartmentalized</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
our extracurricular is super-sized</div>
</span><o:p><div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
</o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
Who am I if not a dreamer?</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
not an adventurer or student</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
not game player or
changer</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
my mind is buzzing and blinking</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
multiplied by facts for thinking</div>
</span><o:p><div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
</o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
Who am I if not a dreamer?</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
professor of possibilities</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
and a strategic schemer</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
I am not just a survivor</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: right;">
there is magic to fly for<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Are there people without dreams? Who are they? What do they do?</div>
</div>
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-41191658515150809552013-07-05T21:27:00.000-07:002013-07-06T17:20:58.261-07:00INTERRUPTED<div class="MsoNormal">
I am sitting at my desk
looking towards the door because I have family that will sneak up on you and
laugh as you clutch your chest, not to mention erase the one great thought that
you were nurturing for just the right
moment to BOOM! So, I boot up the laptop and open the project that has been
consuming me. I reread what has been written and get back into the story.
Thoughts are whirling around so I close my eyes while I type to shut out any
visual distractions. I capture the word marquis that moves through my mind with
racing strokes and...the door squeaks open. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I try to keep my eyes shut but the fear of being pranked is
too great. I open my eyes and try to
pause the flow while glaring at the intruder. My husband stares until he
realizes that I'm focusing the death ray vision at him. He walks in like he has an invisibility cloak
and riffles through the drawers for some papers. All the time I stare at him
over the laptop screen. He thinks that by not looking at me that he hasn't actually
'bothered' me or the writing process, but the cinema of words so carefully
crafted in brain vision is now gone...forever.
He walks out without looking at me and closes the door. He doesn't
actually take anything except my laser
beam focus. He will suffer later, I promise.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tell myself to let it go and move forward. If after
forty-three years of obsessive reading I can't come up with another idea or
some visionary phrases, I should call it quits anyway. I tap out another tune,
and I'm getting a whole new groove on in
a new direction. Suddenly a tantalizing twist turns through my thoughts, I try
to capture it like a bubbling floating upward when my daughter barges through
the door. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She twirls around in the middle of the carpet, goes out,
comes in, and then stands before me with her hands on her hips. "I'm
bored," she says. I keep tap, tap, tapping. She gets closer and waves her
hand in front of my face. "Hello?" she demands. My fingers freeze and
I try to capture the twisting turning bubble as it slips away from
conscientiousness. "You're not even
writing!" she screams. "Go
away," I say. "How rude!" she stomps out. I yell to close the
door. I bellow two more times. I try to ignore the open door, drone of music,
and incessant TV chatter. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can't recapture any semblance of pace so I take a break
from the aforementioned text and switch to editing a poem that is half begun. I
read it through until the thoughts, rhymes, and connections zoom through my
mind and my fingers, and SPLAT onto the screen. As I muster up the middling
climax, my 'tween son pushes his body through the door and flops on the sofa
(okay it's really a bed) with his arm dramatically flung over his face. I look
at him...the screen...him. This too shall pass. He has to learn to figure out
his own problems. Right?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Growing up among girls, I didn't know how dramatic boys
could be until this past year. His storms are not episodic like my sisters or
daughters, quick and explosive. His are epic with a beginning that builds to a
massive middle and ends as a novella with a possible sequel. He quakes and
boils, holding back tears. His voice cracks as he tries to man up and put his
tragedy into words and grunts. Can empathy emanate from my pores while I
continue to write? What was I writing? Will he notice? He will surge for hours,
brew deeper injustices, and plot strategic solutions or revenge. It breaks my
heart as he starts to gasp for air and his body trembles. It's hopeless, I must batten down the laptop hatches before I
throw it through the window and weather the storm to shelter my musings for calmer conditions ,
like maybe a class five rapids.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>What distractions are disasters that keep you from capturing
the fragile flight of ideas and drive you mad?</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-42663903458930770202013-07-02T23:33:00.000-07:002013-07-06T17:17:27.256-07:00Chewing and Spewing<span style="font-family: 'Open Sans', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px;">I want to spew forth my idea perfectly formed without obsessive life-altering revisions. Projectile verse would save me a lot of time and sanity. I understand how my sixth grade students feel when I tell them that great writing is in the visions of their revisions. But I can barely bring myself to swallow this binge-purge of truth. The idea, the meal is so settled in my mind that it SHOULD burst forth as a perfectly orchestrated </span><span style="font-family: 'Open Sans', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px;">Disney firework display. Sadly, this is not the case. The words, the events, the organization, and the decisions are painstakingly slow processes. I'd rather write about it then actually do it. Ergo...this piece.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Open Sans', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Open Sans, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.44444465637207px; line-height: 23.99305534362793px;"><b>How do you structure your revisions so that you don't go bonkers?</b></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-14540304653353484412013-06-30T11:01:00.000-07:002013-07-06T17:18:10.171-07:00The JourneyThe journey continues as I joined a writer’s group that meets in San Dimas, California. We meet in a small taco restaurant. It was interesting to listen to other people’s writing and to gauge the reaction to my own. We meet weekly, and this gives me a goal to work towards every week so that I can possibly share a new something; be it a poem, short story, or snippet of something else.<br />
<br />
<b>What journeys have lead you to be a writer?</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-86851576203189495142013-04-07T22:40:00.003-07:002013-07-06T17:18:58.810-07:00DISTRACTION<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What is life without people?</span><br />
<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Not much of any meaning.</span><br />
<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But each new body of intrusion</span><br />
<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">takes up space in the churning psyche.</span><br />
<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This leaves one with very little</span><br />
<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">time to age the line of creativity.</span><br />
<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>How do you overcome the guilt of spending more time writing than with the people you love?</b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-6476574842234786942013-03-30T16:13:00.000-07:002013-07-06T17:35:30.461-07:00Dating Advice<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Choose to date someone who thinks you're hot</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">over those who think they're hot and you're not.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Do you have any dating advice?</b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-85206723917295321402013-03-17T15:38:00.002-07:002013-03-17T15:38:54.446-07:00Looking Lucky<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You'll find whatever you seek. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I'm looking to be lucky.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I found many bits to peek </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and fortune sprinkled liberally.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kH47zvyLyXg/UUZETGl8deI/AAAAAAAAAVM/in7MoGYyJu0/s1600/me+irish+1p.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kH47zvyLyXg/UUZETGl8deI/AAAAAAAAAVM/in7MoGYyJu0/s320/me+irish+1p.PNG" width="247" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-6453934693977232122013-03-10T10:58:00.001-07:002013-07-06T17:36:37.963-07:00In honor of people that make us feel special.<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Calligri Wide';"><span style="font-size: large;">Relative<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">enfold me splendidly singular<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">countermanding thine own insecure<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">shriek at my luxuriant chocolate locks<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">which was comparable to a cardboard box<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">personal progeny were beauties<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">longly lashed cultivated snooties<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">yet, I felt on par, clever and stylish<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">tho' in retrospect shabby and bookish<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">behold cherished auntie<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">not a real relation<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">but more like family <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">then those of creation <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">she exhausted not much more than a dime<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">but ad infinitum quality time<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">fawning and fussing a personage<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">acclaiming with abundant homage<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">she had me in a moon eyed hypnotic trance<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">amidst a laudatory fairy dust dance<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">raise the reckoning with reticence<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">a-stumbling askance with hesitance<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">behold cherished auntie<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">not a real relation<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">but more like family <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">then those of creation <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">as a memory mostly divine<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">inserted more than a slender line<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">as sundry glimmering glories she begot<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">my choice countenance tightened into a knot<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">in lieu of parody I repay<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">mediocrity she did allay<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">her physical essence hath departed<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calligri Wide";"><span style="font-size: large;">forever the spirit she imparted<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Calligri Wide';"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Calligri Wide';"><span style="font-size: large;">Marcy Santos</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Calligri Wide';"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Who makes you feel good about yourself?</span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Calligri Wide';">
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-33184845914225371702013-03-04T20:24:00.005-08:002013-07-05T22:37:54.029-07:00Bare Bones FoundationI wish that I had something to share, but I'm in the foundation phase of writing a few different pieces. Notably, I am working on an hour-long dramedy for a production company contest with Will Smith as one of the judges. It's due in two weeks, so my energy is focused on that. Can you imagine working with Will Smith? The project is family based, and I've got a killer idea that I'm fleshing out. Excitement keeps me going even after a long day teaching and picking up after my own teenagers. It's all about hope. After voraciously reading for the past 30 years, I relish the process of creating my own literary/media projects. I will share bits and pieces as they emerge from my travels inward.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-70117214983856978322013-02-21T15:09:00.001-08:002013-02-21T15:17:49.473-08:00CAMP SLUMPThis week has been devoted to science camp with my 6th graders. Not much privacy to write, so I am taking it all in with notes on setting, forest winterland, and characters. Lots of interesting people from kids, counselors, other staff, and teachers. I find the counselors most interesting in that they live the ideal nature-lover's dream with adventure and passing on their love of the outdoors with kids. I don't know how they do it, but I'm amazed and intrigued. I've been listening to their stories and taking notes. I'm immersed in the setting too. It's been snowing and blowing all week. What a challenge!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1029684203124852271.post-89340188577742525982013-02-11T20:36:00.002-08:002013-02-11T20:36:37.864-08:00Wrote a Song and Published on Finale SongwriterWow! Way harder than I thought. I wrote a song, similar to a poem. So, that wasn't too difficult. It's a camp song for my sixth grade students. The HARD part was using the software to write the music and learning the nuances of music making software. After four hours, I have a song to copy and practice for my students. At least I can count it as my poem for the week, though I've already exceeded my poetry goals this month.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17583383819060956261noreply@blogger.com0