Location Photos for Host Writer Book II

Below are a couple photos of a location I use in Host Writer Book II. The location was discovered during last month's research trip to Britain.

In the dark of night, my husband and I arrived by ferry to the Orkney Islands. We traveled by car to Mainland, Orkney and discovered the town of Evie. Surprised by the name of the town, which is also the name of one of our daughters, we came across a magical bed-and-breakfast called Woodwick House situated in some woodlands.

Upon arriving so late and with no reservation we surprised the hostess. She told us she couldn't believe we had found Woodwick with no knowledge of how to get there. She loved our adventurous spirit and was gracious and kind. She put us up in the former Laird's room. So cool!

We awoke to a sunrise that revealed views of flowering gardens, scampering bunnies, the lush woodlands and a burn that cascaded to the nearby bay. One look around and I knew I'd use this location in my book.

My Official Author Trip to Britain

I've returned from a trip to Britain and I feel so lucky as not every author is able to go on location and research the setting and local history for their book.

Some years ago my husband had lived in England and was able to help me gather the research needed for the setting of the first book of Host Writer Book I: The Archivist. In order for me to get first hand knowledge for the second book of Host Writer we took a trip to England and Scotland together.

So exciting! And with my love of history, touring around the far reaches of the Lake district in England, the lochs in Scotland and the Orkney Islands all covered with ancient historical sites will certainly satisfy me for a time. And oh the possibilities that became clear in my mind for Book II in Host Writer and also for a screenplay I'm working on whose main characters come from Manchester, England. I can hardly wait! Let the writing process continue...

This photo is in Dingwall, Scotland and is the real historical marker of the Dingwall Althing site. A location I used fictitiously in Host Writer Book I: The Archivist.

The Ring of Brodgar on Mainland, Orkney. Standing stones are everywhere!

I'm Published!!!

Yeah! It's done! Host Writer Book 1 is published! The book takes place in Britain. It's about a band of rogue agents that discover a covert society of Archivists who have the power to speak to the dead. Follow this link to find out more about Zoe Edevane and her newfound life: Host Writer Book 1: The Archivist  

Research and Re-Search

A writer must love to research, but also have a passionate desire to write or one can get wrapped up in re-search.

Oh the joys of Wikipedia's knowledge and Google Search with links and images--love it! Researching for me is similar to being sidetracked by bright and shiny objects where I'm constantly yelling "Squirrel!" I must rein myself in, kick myself or just plain turn off the internet so that I can write and get my story done.

Links are called links for a reason. Last week I researched submarines for one of my novels. I needed basic knowledge such as whether or not a sub has stairs or ladders, how the bunks or berths were situated and I wanted to find types of subs and specifications. I needed knowledge about the life of living in a submarine that could be drawn into my writing so my reader would feel the tight confines and realities of the quiet spaces or the fear of the dark. Two days of research later I woke myself up from yet another link--did you know that drug cartels use Narco-submarines to stash their substances in a clandestine effort to bring them around the world? Yeah, fascinating stuff! But I found myself chained to my chair by these unending-push-a-button-links.

I had written almost a paragraph--ok only a sentence--in two days--maybe three.

Unless you have an uncanny and amazing ability to stay on task and you also have an innate mind, capable of ALL knowledge and understanding of absolutely EVERYTHING, you have experienced the above--at least once.

We need to know when to say stop! And write! Whether you set a timer for your duration of research time, or write a certain number of pages daily before researching the details and then insert them later, we must write or our books do not come to fruition.

Another basic thing to keep in mind if you spend days on research is what type of items you've spent days researching. After I explained my new knowledge of submarines and warfare to my husband and told him how fun it was to research, his one comment to me?

"You've just been flagged by the NSA."

I hadn't thought of that. But if so, I may be on to something real for my book, descriptions that would resonate with my readers and bring them in and hold them spellbound, and that is what I truly desire.

Now to put pen to paper or NTPPTP!

This Year I Turn 50!

This is the year I turn 50!

I'm coming to grips with this "advancement" slowly. For example, this past month I realized that when I comment to strangers, randomly, while in line at the grocery store when I forgot something vital on my list and mention it must be due to my up and coming age of 50, they no longer say, "Really? Fifty? I never would have guessed."

Instead they're nodding--in pity.

There must be a reason for these pitiful nods. This past week I decided that my 16x magnification Makeup mirror with its bright light may magnify my wrinkles to such proportion it renders them out of existence to my eyes. So I put on my new reading spectacles and glanced into a "normal" mirror. It was a good thing my voice box was hoarse from my two-week flu virus or my scream might have scared the neighbors. But the macrocosm of hoarseness that sounded like a semi-truck reducing its gears did scare Cuteness, my Yorkie. I haven't seen him for days.

With that said, and after deciding the cold medicine I took to dry out my flu symptoms had not created the cracked desert look appearing under my eyes, I'd stop competing with time and use my time more w-i-s-e-l-y.

We've all heard people say that 50 is the new 40. I'm actually hoping for the new 30, because I have lots of "stuff" to do with this wiser use of my allotted time and would enjoy the youthful feeling of having an extra 20 years. Stuff such as complete the last few classes for my college degree, find an agent, an editor and a publisher for my books, keep up in my blogging and writing, find the names of my husband's great-great-grandpa's parents, exercise, and become more competent in French. Whew! I guess it's a good thing that the man of my dreams, who I married over half-my-life-ago, and I will be empty-nesters in a few months.

This year of turning 50, I challenge myself to banter with more fun and enjoyment, to blog several times a week as an outlet away from the strict confines I usually put on myself and write with no worries. My time commitments are limited for my posts, but extensive for my manuscripts and submissions. This is a wise juggle of my time because I can have both the kudos of writing more posts and the accomplishment of getting another novel completed. Of course it would also be nice to find one of my manuscripts published before the big B-day!

Using time wisely is a give and take. To take time from things most important and highly valued like family gives me regret. To take time from less important things, for me this could be searching the internet or watching television, gives me the time to accomplish the worthy goals that I choose of spending time with family and on those goals listed above.

This is a great time of year to write out goals, and with the big 5-0 on my horizon I feel even more committed and driven to focus and accomplish them. Time will tell.

Happy New Year to you and may you receive much enjoyment from writing and accomplishing your 2014 goals. Oh…and feel free to comment on how extremely vibrant and young I look!

Focusing Problem, Anyone?

During the past year or two I have started several blogs, but only wrote a couple posts in each; wrote a book, but only sent it to three editors; started four more books, drafted one screenplay and started two other screenplays. And, all of these span different genres.

My mind is a creative nightmare, or rather a CREATING nightmare!

Of course my kids are encouraging this ruckus with one daughter married last July and the next one tying the knot in 5 weeks.

AND, get this: last September my husband and I decided to downsize our home. We talked about this to some friends and neighbors. Without even listing our home with a Realtor we had a family come look. Maybe they liked the tree views from the sunroom, or floor to ceiling bookshelves in the library, or maybe they liked the theater room and second kitchen. OR maybe, they were the FOCUSING kind of people who could make a quick decision, because they bought and we were moved out and living in my sister's basement within 3 weeks! In THIS market too! WHEW.

We're now looking forward to building a smaller, Craftsman style home. Personally, I'm hoping the whole process will help me to focus better and make decisions faster. It better, or we'll be living in my sister's basement a long time.

Now. . . where was I going with this?

On Weddings and Writings

As I try to find time to both plan a wedding and continue my normal writing schedule, I find something has to give. So far it's been sleep. I also find that as I try to write my mind is focused on everything but writing. I'm sure all writers have days, or weeks of scanty focus.

Yesterday, in the middle of a day of mind wandering, I received another rejection from an agent. Ouch! Nothing like a rejection to make ones mind do a 360. So I decided to pull weeds. Weed pulling after a rejection? Priceless!

I walked outside among the trays of orange, yellow and red blossoms I had planted for the backyard reception and discovered at least a third of my blossoms had been replaced with scanty stems. WHAT? Among the barren stems were slender trails of what appeared to be snot. My flower beds had been the host of a massive snail party. I pictured them texting all their buddies and their buddies texting all their buddies to slither on over to a freshly planted smorgasboard.

THIS WAS WAR! And, I wasn't about to kill my dogs with snail bait so...

I got my Mac gun and loaded my Google ammo and discovered snails like beer. Hmmm. I decided to give them a party they would never forget.

Now let me first inform you that I'm not a drinker. Nor have I ever bought beer. I picked up my son from his Driver's Ed class and we marched over to a gas station where I didn't think I would see anyone I knew.

We walked in to get my beer and I saw my neighbor, who is one of the only people I know who had 3 of their children at one time serving a Mormon Mission. She was filling her car with gas and I hope she didn't see me ducking and hiding and carrying the largest can of beer I could find with my 15 year old son in tow. The can was the size of a small trash can. But this was war and people do things they can't be held accountable for, right? After all, it's not like I was going to drink it.

I decided I needed to inform people of the fact that I was in fact not going to drink this gynormous can of beer. I waltzed up to the counter, set the small trash can down, and said, "This is my first time buying beer." What? Why did I say that? I sounded like an idiot. The two ladies at the counter looked at me with both their heads cocked sideways.

I had to follow with, "Snails like beer and I plan on getting them all drunk and drowning them in it." I gazed around to see if my neighbor had walked in to hear my announcement. She wasn't there, but plenty of other people were and they were all staring at me. I don't think I care to know what they were thinking. Obviously the two ladies behind the counter were well versed in selling liquor and had this look that said, "yeah whatever woman."

I paid and my son grabbed the bag and we left. I realized of course what that looked like.

After we set up our half-buried plastic cups and went to bed I couldn't wait to see what we would discover in the morning.

Call me heartless, but oh the satisfaction! Sure enough a couple of the cups had snails that got so drunk they drowned. About a foot away from the cup was a pile of snails that looked like they had had a great party and had a hangover. Of course, I've had to keep my dogs away from lapping up the concoction, but better a drunk dog than a dead one!

I hope my flowers can come back in time for my daughter's wedding reception!

Writers Conferences

What? No posts yet this year? Well, I best explain!

My daughter is getting married this summer! Yeah! Thus most of my extra time is going toward the planning of this little shin-dig. Between the dress, the photographer, the other photographer, the better dress, the bride-to-be's mental breakdowns, the three tier or two tier cake, and the: "Mom, instead of the reception center, let's use our backyard, because I've always dreamed of floating candles in the pool and yards of fabric and little twinkling lights draped across the gazebo and pergola," followed by my mental breakdown, just hasn't left much time for blogging!

But I've been able to keep my writing schedule of 4-6 hours a day and I've attended two writer conferences, the LTUE and LDStorymakers. At Storymakers I was able to pitch Shadowlight, and was told to send in my query. I have also queried other agents as well.

Not much detail in this post, but from a writer's life, this is the best I can do right now.

My daughter and I are picking up her wedding dress in an hour...I'll probably cry!

A Marry Merry Christmas!

Twenty-four years ago this week I had the most unique or unusual proposal of marriage of anyone I've ever spoken to. This proposal came at a place and time that exhibited the Holiday spirit, but not in the ways you'd think. In fact as I look back I still laugh and cry over the experience. And, I believe it's safe to say, it's a one of a kind proposal.

We were both in Los Angeles at that time. The weather was beautiful and warm and the beaches were perfect. The beach was where he first told me he loved me. We sat on a lifeguard tower at night. The moon shone bright. A red tide warning had been issued, which in the light of the moon made the tide glow turquoise green as it tumbled toward shore.

Shortly thereafter (Christmas Eve) he took me to Hill Street in Downtown Los Angeles, where we picked out my ring. I enjoyed doing this as a couple; walking around LA wasn't the most romantic of spots, but we picked out a sparkling diamond that he could afford and I wear it proudly.

It was then that the peculiar circumstances began to unfold, circumstances that I recognize now as a discovery of how much he truly loved me and how entertaining, unpredictable and joyful our future together would be and has been.

After purchasing the ring we walked to our parking spot, which was between two impressively expansive buildings. I could feel my husband-to-be's excitement. His eyes twinkled and he couldn't stop smiling as we drove down the alley towards the exit. But, blocking the alley stood a large garbage truck preparing to empty loads of trash into a gigantic dumpster in the alley. The kind of alley dumpster that CSI investigators pull out bodies.

Well, we couldn't back out so we waited, the little box containing the ring sat between us and Christmas music played on the radio.

I sat wondering that since we picked the ring out together and I knew what was coming, when would he put it on my finger and ask me officially? I decided to ask him. He grinned even bigger--if that was even possible--and he picked up the box and said, "How about now?"

I glanced nervously around. In front of us the garbage truck bounced the container upside down streaming the contents of days of discarded chicken, orange peelings, cans, whiskey bottles and carnage into the back of the garbage truck.

Next to me, a homeless man decided it would be a good time to unzip his pants and relieve himself as I yelled inside my head, "NO, OH PLEASE NO." A nice arching yellow, water stream began sprinkling against the wall of the building next to the car and my wide-open eyes.

Then, I felt a warm hand on mine, and I looked into the eyes of the young man sitting next to me...FULL of love and kindness and generosity. AND I realized how lucky I was! ALL he saw was me! MY face and our love for each other.

Never mind the smell of garbage tumbling down, never mind the man still spraying his waterfall on the wall, never mind that we weren't in a gloriously romantic setting on the beach or enjoying a candlelit dinner. The love of my life had all his thoughts on me. His total focus was on me, his future bride. What more could any bride ask for?

Today, as I think back to these humble beginnings, I'm reminded once again about the importance of blocking out those things that don't matter and concentrating on that which matters most. The man that I love and who I will spend the eternities with and the beautiful family that we've created together. What could be more in keeping with the Holiday Spirit than to have this as a primary focus during this time and always. I am truly blessed.

MARRY Merry Christmas!

Kids in College, Anyone?

We have two daughters attending a wonderful University up North. It's out of state and we don't see them often, but text or talk, every day (sometimes every hour) (twice, one of them called the home phone and one my cell phone--at the same time) They don't plan this.

They like to get our opinions on EVERYTHING, AND then NOT do any of our suggestions. This is all right, they eventually learn that our suggestions were actually good and they act on them, but, they have become THEIR suggestions by that point. Yep, they are becoming adults!

I like change, and have said so. But, when my phone rings and I see that it's one of my daughters, I cringe. Chances are they have changed their minds about something we spoke about only moments ago.

During the past week, Pip has wanted me to contact my sources and help her get a job at a child-care facility, informed me that she has an in for a job in a nearby city, that she wants to be a Nanny back East, be a nanny in Germany, get her job back at the shoe sales store, stay at school and work, AND during the last hour we received the following texts:

Pip: I’m going to apply for DisneyWorld
Us: Maybe you can be Donald Duck?
Pip: They have a college program that fits my track system and my roommate is applying too.
Us: You might make a better Goofy.
Pip: HaHa, Whatever. I am serious this time. I am applying right now! You told me to find a job. What’s a better place than the “happiest place on earth”?
Us: Sounds great.
Pip: I know! It’s kinda like a Study Abroad program cuz it’s Disney WORLD, but, you get paid!!
Us: We certainly can’t argue with that…

Oh, to be a college student, single and have your whole life ahead of you. I remember those days. I believe she is a lot like how I was. With that in mind I know she will eventually settle down. And in the meantime she will drive her parents crazy with the wonder of it all. I know I did.

Wiki or Library Card Catalog?

I have a love for libraries. I always have. The smell of books, the hunt for the just-right title, the organization of science fiction, mystery, thriller, philosophy, young adult to encyclopedias and how to's, all in the same room. Amazing! I am a book-worm and proud of it.

My husband and I knew from the start that we would have a library in our home, even before we heard the statistics from the influence of having one in the home. They encourage reading, learning and advanced education.

I remember when I had my first fling with a library. I was in Elementary school and our class was taken to the school library. I remember the shelves were tall and looked so massive and heavy with volumes of bright colored books.

The Librarian mentioned the "Dewey Decimal System" and in my young mind I instantly connected this to my Great-Grandfather who's middle name was Dewey.

"No Way!" I thought. And I knew...it had been MY great-grandfather who had come up with this brilliant method of cataloging books. It had to be him. The only other Dewey I knew could NOT have conceived this idea, all he did was hang out with his friends Huey and Louie.

I couldn't understand why everyone else in the class hated the Dewey Decimal System! I was very adamant that they should respect this system--AND I unabashedly told them why: Because my great-grandfather had developed it. I don't think that won me any friends, especially with the weird faces they pulled after I told them. I thought they were just jealous.

When I went to college I even USED the library. More often than not I put a pile of saliva on an area of a desk actually warped by many patrons doing the same thing as I, studying by osmosis. But, I did use it.

Libraries were fun places as well. At the close of the University library the theme song from Hawaii Five-O would play and it was customary for all the cool students still studying to stand up on the desks and chairs and hold out their arms and pretend to surf, many of them wiping off the string of saliva hanging from their chins.

Before writing this post, I received a call from my daughter who was searching for a book at the University library where she is attending. She said, "I don't even know what floor to start searching on!"

I laughed and told her it's not quite like using a search engine on the computer, she may have to use the card catalogue. She laughed back. Apparently card catalogues may have been replaced by computers. But, truth is, the Dewey system is still in use today, and you can do a quick search on your computer and Wiki will explain it pretty good!

Is Taking the Summer Off A Good Idea?

Well, I took the summer off, from blogging anyway, and worked on my manuscript. I hope the idea was a good one, but I'm not sure.

Today I pulled up my blog and beheld a caption stating "removed and deleted."

I had a momentary PANIC ATTACK until I discovered that my blog still existed, but sometime during the summer the image became changed and distorted because the template needed adjusting, due to the fact that there's now a fantastic and easy new design tool. I apologize for anyone who may have seen the ugly mess my blog had become!

I have also discovered that I have HOURS of CATCH UP! All the wonderful blogger friends I have been reading and now I feel totally out of the loop! I'm in need of a device for a fast download of all the blogs I have missed reading to go straight into my brain at the speed of light!

Not only am I feeling out of the loop, but I take the whole summer off from social networking and I'm still not done with the review and edit of my manuscript. But, I am close!

Maybe this is because of the vacation to Ouray, Colorado (It's hard to breath and people get irritated at 13,200 feet); or the vacation to Jackson and the Tetons(beautiful place to golf); or maybe because I enjoyed sitting by the pool (I could have brought my laptop out with me, but I'm positive the sun would have damaged it! I should have tried rubbing that SPF 100 on my computer, which is like covering it with a wool blanket, right?)


Maybe, it's because my two daughters are leaving for college on Monday and I just wanted to enjoy the time with them. And, as a family we have made memories and enjoyed guilt-free time together: cousins coming over, 50th birthday for my husband (nice red walker), bike rides and racing back home to see who's the most in shape (I'm not saying who won or lost), dancing with Jumanji (yes, our bird dances and works out).


Whatever the reason for my "summer off"--sometimes I just need a reminder that it's OK to keep things in balance, and for me, family always comes first! So, now that I'm not feeling guilty, I'll be diving in to the posts I've missed.

Male vs. Female: Characters and Real Life

It's been a few days since I returned home from the wonderful Casual Blogger Conference. I learned so much and hope I took enough notes to review so I won't forget all the knowledge I gained!

Fist bump to all the on-line friends I talked to in person, and to the new friends I made. You're all awesome. I loved reconnecting with friends I met at the LDStorymakers Conference as well.

I LEARNED SOMETHING AWESOME TODAY! Something I can definitely use in my novel writing, and I'm surprised I haven't clued into this before: Males and females TALK about DIFFERENT kinds of STUFF!

Yes, I know! It's rather uncanny. Here's how I gained this epiphany:

I grew up with tons of sisters, and 2 brothers. My brothers talked about, I really don't know, I never really paid attention. They were always in the basement or in their "hut" working with boxes and toilet paper rolls along with mud and concoctions of something called, STUFF.

The only time we girls paid attention to them was when something of ours went missing, like our Barbie car, or hair brushes, nail polish or other items we referred to as girl treasures.

IF we discovered the boys had taken, or even touched our girly treasures, we would punish them. We punished them hard and then we took proof. We made them sit for a makeup and hair makeover. See the proof? Isn't he cute. After this picture we nicknamed him Sassafras.



I'm now a mother of two girls and a boy, who is my youngest. He corners me with questions about dropping him and his buddies off in the mountains to camp (they are all 14 and 15 yrs old) or if he loaded up the trailer with all the motorcycles could I take them riding. And I generally tell him to go ask his dad.

For months his comments and questions have continued until I finally asked him why he always came to me with these questions instead of his father. He just stared at me, speechless. That's the moment I had my epiphany.

What did I expect him to ask and talk to me about? Questions about going to get a pedicure and a new pair of shoes? Or, Mom, guess who I like? Or, comments on how his friends and him all like the same girl, but he liked her first? And, do you know why he doesn't say these things? Because he speaks testosterone.

He's a young man now. I should have recognized this by the fact that he's taller than me and his voice has gotten rather low and irritating. In fact, his sister came home this last weekend from college and told him to not talk until his voice gets normal again. I remembered my poor brothers who grew up surrounded by volcanoes of estrogen. I can't even recall conversations we had other than, "Give that back or else" and many other lame threats.

This epiphany caused me to rethink how I have written my male protagonists and male characters, how they relate to others, and how their conversations sound. When writing we need to make sure to write conversations that are real and true to each character, whether male or female. If not, we won't have believable characters and we wouldn't want to disappoint future readers.

Many of the blogs that I follow have in depth information about writing believable characters. Please check them out, they are in my right sidebar.

I'm just getting ready to wrap up this post and my son just walked in. He's saying, "Mom! Do you think I'm gonna need stitches?"

Great...

Do You Sell Prince Albert in a Can?

My daughter, Pip and I sat in church watching a little boy play with a folded up paper, like origami, where his fingers fit into the slots and he asked, "Pick a number" then counted; and then he asked, "Pick a color" and spelled out the color; then he asked a question and had the answer revealed under a folded corner.

Pip exclaimed how she played the same game when she was younger--not that she's that old now--and 35+ years ago, I played it too. And, in much the same fashion.

This got us thinking...How many generations of kids have played the same Urban games?

How about the "string game?" My daughter calls it "Cat in a cradle". We explained the game to my mom and she remembered it as well.

"Ring around the Rosies" has been around since the plague. How fun that must have been.

How about the Urban rhyme sung while jumping rope:
"Cinderella, dressed in Yella, Went upstairs to kiss a fella. Made a mistake and kissed a snake, how many doctors (or stitches) did it take?"

My mom didn't remember that one, but she did remember the kissing game and spin the bottle.

Have you ever met the King of Siam and had to chant OWA TANA SIAM, faster and faster; or have you been in the desert with a blanket on you and had to remove something so you wouldn't die of dehydration? Always funny as the clothing came out from under the blanket when common sense should have screamed, "TAKE OFF THE BLANKET, IDIOT!"

My book club talked about how they had a group "Doorbell ditching" last weekend, and dare we mention "Chinese Fire-drills"--a car load of teens did one in front of my car a couple weeks ago--they laughed and ran until the light turned green and piled back in their little Chevy Shove-it and drove off.

Is it as much a relief to you as it is to me that some nuances of childhood remain the same in the fast paced world of today?

One thing that has not stood the test of time is prank phone calls. THANK YOU MR. CALLER ID. So your refrigerator is probably running, but you don't need to catch it. And, you probably don't sell Prince Albert in a can.

I hope to play Hide-n-seek with my grandchildren and swing on the swings and have them say, "We're married Grandma." I hope to watch and listen to them enjoying jump rope and hopscotch rhymes. And... I'll be grateful to have precious little moments free from the distractions and hindrances of technology, because some things are meant to be kept simple.

I'm Going to the CBC!

I'm excited to attend the Casual Blogger Conference this week. I'm taking classes to learn more about blogging and design. And of course I'm enrolled in the writing classes. I'm definitely a lifelong learner!

Can't wait to meet other bloggers and friends I've met online. If you recognize me please come say hi!

Girls Night Out is going to be awesome! I saw Motherboard leaving today to make the final preparations and I know it will absolutely be the best!

Since my computer is the same weight as a stone tablet I will post about everything after I return.

My Native English and the Misuse of Lexis!

While I grew up with English as my native language, I often surprise myself with my profound misuse of lexis when I speak. I presume you know that lexis is not the car. I won't even get into how I learned that! But, when I publish my first book, I wouldn't mind having a Lexus with a license plate that reads: LEXIS.

Anyway, I'll say a word or two and those around me tend to get a blank look on their faces while they process or interpret what they heard or what they think they heard.

My husband tells me I have an ongoing problem of making up words. When he catches a made-up word, I'll go look it up in "my own dictionary" and most often the word is there and I'll enlighten him!

I know that my dictionary happens to be a Websters, printed in 1937. (See the picture above) I like using it. It has notes in the margins from people that aren't even around anymore. Thus I may speaketh and spelleth differently and it may account for my problem.

Sometimes I say a word that isn't used very often, or I just mix words up.

I believe this gift for words was given to me genetically, from my dad! He's very smart. Not only a retired teacher, but a keen storyteller, AND he's awesome at the misuse of words.

Not too long ago, my mom hurt her arm and I called to see how she was feeling. My dad answered the phone and I asked him how she was and he said, "Apparently pretty good for she is out getting a pedophile as we speak."

I paused, for although we have police officers in our family, my mother is not one of them! He then said, "A pedi... pedicure!"

I was so relieved!

We spoke of the time many years ago when I was a teen, and he told my younger brothers and sisters, who were being obnoxious, to go in the other room and play with the "erection set". I had glanced at the green, blue and red sticks and wheels on the floor and laughed. Any of you ever owned an erector set?

We had a good laugh over how we mix-up words in a most embarrassing way. This can be especially humiliating when you view yourself as a writer of words. I'm sure those who know me can recall times I have slipped in the word department. I'm not talking about swear words, but those times you're in front of kids, or family, or even a large audience and you mispronounce a word and don't even know it. It's like having a piece of spinach stuck in your teeth, which you discover AFTER the party; generally people don't call your attention to the problem, they just pretend it didn't happen.

For myself, I'll be relaxed after speaking in front of a Church group and a bead of sweat will form along my spine as I realize that the word I intended to use was Sect and I had actually said Sex. It's too late to run back to the pulpit and give a lengthy analysis of how it was not some Freudian thing, but my mind plays tricks on me with "it sounds like..." and if anyone had actually laughed I might have caught my mistake and we wouldn't be having this uncomfortable moment right now. Whew!

Has anyone had similar word mishaps? I'm thrilled to have followers on my new blog and want to hear your experiences. And please, pass this on, and let me know I'm not the only one with this lexis problem!

Caveman Summit: Question #1

The long arm lady had me sit near the front of the room to wait for the first question at the CAVEMAN SUMMIT. I had a few minutes and had nothing better to do than listen to those around me.

A conversation drifted my way from a table where a few women, with herring bones stuck in their assorted Texas sized hairdos, were seated.

"Cheetah, just isn't her color."

"And, did you see her leopard shoes?"

"I know! I only wear Louie Bitten with the red fox soles."

"Oh, me too!"

"I wonder how old that fossil bag is? I wouldn't be caught dead with one."

The long arm woman noticed my listening to these girls and said, "That's the 'savage girl' table."

Remember the tomatoes no one was eating? The tomatoes began to be tossed through the air by a man dressed in a burlap sack emitting a smell of onions, and landed in the faces and hair of these savage girls.

The long arm woman said, "We don't put up with them."

Nice.

The girls sat there with their arms crossed rolling their eyes, sporting the new ketchup look.

Long-arm lady made the announcement for the panelists to come forward. Interesting enough two of the panelists were the burlap sack man and a savage girl who still had tomato stuck in her herring bone. A third was the hairy, ogre handed man, the fourth was a tall elderly woman with hair dyed the color of an eggplant and wearing cheetah skin. They were introduced respectively as: Wallaman, Cyprus, Ernie and Baba.

It came time for the questions and I read the first aloud: Ancient man/woman painted hieroglyphics to leave something of themselves behind, what do you think modern man/woman is leaving behind and will be known for?

The entire conference room erupted in conversation and laughter until iron-pumping Ernie stood up and yelled, "Silence!" and then went on to say, "Humph, they will leave behind aluminum cans, plastic and diapers making it seem that was their food, their clothing, their everything."

He would be their environmentalist. Didn't see that one coming.

Wallaman went next, "Without a doubt modern man/woman will be viewed as stupid and non-thinkers. The thinkers would be recognized as becoming non-existant with the mainstream use of technology at the turn of the century and letter writing all but ceased."

A woman in the audience yelled out, "Ever since my son got a cell-phone he texts day and night--he held a party at our cave and texted me to bring down more grub for his friends."

"Girl, get rid of the cell phones and stick to the stone tablets." Cyprus said this and then began to refer the woman to the best stone tablet maker available when another man called out:

"They live with a Send-Read-Delete mentality."

I thought they were being a bit harsh until I remembered a seminar I attended with Robert McCullough as the speaker. He is the author of 1776. He spoke on the importance of journal writing. He said "If you want to become famous--keep a journal--and it will probably end up in the Library of Congress. It will be the only one."

Baba stood up, her shimmery purple hair flowing around her, and the room went quiet.

"I, myself, do not want to die and leave nothing but scraps behind. I had a hard time understanding the youth from my time, let alone modern time. The simple, yet memorable stick figures I painted of my grandchildren and children are still preserved in my cavern. Even my wolfhound, Aargh, and my cat, Beetles, are still lovingly displayed forever."

That comment left much for me to think on.

I wonder if future man/woman would know what to do with my CD's loaded with my family photos: glimpses of our precious time together, our love for each other, our moments of happiness and laughter, my children's faces from babe to high school graduation to first love and last love.

Maybe they won't know what to do with my CD's, but I can write in my journal and describe my daughter's coned head when she was first put in my arms and how that head became covered with blond locks to her waist; how she hit her forehead when she was learning to walk and the mark remains today and how she became hard headed as a teenager.

Question #1 made me realize the importance of a journal and the need to have an honest piece of my mind left behind. The caveman did it; it was really that simple!

Caveman Summit

Attending writing workshops and conferences is something I have enjoyed in my endeavor to become a published author. But, none can beat the dreamlike quality and euphoric mannerisms employed by those at the Caveman Summit, where I found myself one day.

I entered a conference/banquet room full of diverse people. Most wore furs and carried the typical club.

I decided to check out the refreshment table first. If you are a vegetarian, than this is not the Summit for you! Although, there were trays of bananas, walnuts and tomatoes. But, the bananas were for the gorilla exhibit, the walnuts were taken for the sling-shot maneuvers and the tomatoes--nobody touched, so I didn't either. The remaining trays were loaded with ham shanks, beef tenderloins, pigs feet, legs of lamb and...well you get the idea.

As I stood there pondering the food choices, a man covered with hair from his shoeless feet to the inside of his ears--amazing enough his head was bald--trotted over to me, held out his ogre like hands and said, "I mold iron with my bare hands."

I held my arms closer to my body so he wouldn't rip them from the sockets and said the first thing that came to my mind, "I eat iron in a pill!" And, just like that I became the talk of the Summit. You'd think I was the keynote speaker or the guest they couldn't wait to meet.

Like many conferences do, they set up 4 chairs at the front of the banquet room for a panel discussion they had scheduled. Then a lady with arms longer than many attending informed me that I was to be the panel discussion leader. What! I was appalled. I told her, "No way, I wouldn't do it. I couldn't do it."

A crowd had gathered and they looked upset. I knew they could remove my appendages, so I asked her what the topic was. She said, "What Ancient Man would say about Modern Man." Then she corrected herself and said, "What Ancient Man/Women would say about Modern Man/Women."

Clearly, I was curious about this myself. I told her that I would be honored to lead this discussion. With her long arm she handed me a list of questions and while I waited for the panel to begin I read over the questions to prepare myself.

In order not to make this post 3 hours long, I will include the questions and answers from this panel in upcoming posts. So, please check back and I welcome your comments when you do!

My Take on the LDStorymakers Conference

I can't believe that I have waited this long to go to a writers conference. It was fab-u-lous to meet all these wonderful people that are like me--in a writing world.

I now have a strategic list of things to do to improve my writing and more importantly; a great group of friends that have the same goal I have of getting published.

I was so worried that I wouldn't be able to drink my diet coke openly in a conference such as this. You've probably seen those--take a sip from the brown bag type of people. That would be me. But for lunch almost ALL they had was caffeinated drinks [sodas]. What was I so worried about? After all, everyone there were writers, probably up at all hours of the night writing and thus addicted to the sip-n-write-n-stay-alert drink of choice--at least for Mormons.

One of my favorite quotes from the conference was from Dan Wells: "How do people without insomnia get anything done?" My thoughts exactly!

I was also overly anxious about the manuscript review I had with Krista Marino an editor with Delacorte Press. She gave me ideas about where my book stands in the marketplace as well as lines to re-work and character ideas. It was a great learning experience and I would definitely recommend that anyone going to a writing conference with the chance to sign up for a review or a pitch session to DO IT! Agents and editors are not scary people. They want us to succeed as writers.

My work is cut out for me. This week, between cleaning out those blasted planters out back (I swear I purchased magically spawning flower pots they appeared so perfect in the store--they're not--they are a spider-toting-weed-infested-spawn-of-the-devil-by-springtime-pot) and I need to get my pool ready to open, should I even mention what that is like?

Maybe just one thing: I find when I open the cover that those 8 legged creatures from the pots tend to enjoy a good swim thus gravitating to the water where they dive in and swell up to probably thirty times their natural size during the winter. Do you know what that does to an arachnophobe? My hands are shaking just typing up the description. My stomach is doing a butterfly thing. I stopped breathing while writing this. Enough about that.

This week, after I get those things I said done, or hired out to my son who owes me because he went to Boondocks, then I will begin another draft of my manuscripts using all the new info I learned at the conference, starting with the invaluable reviews done on my first chapters.

Cheers to all you writers out there and my new friends. Loved the conference, loved meeting inspiring people and loved the input and suggestions I received. Now, I'm gonna get to work, processing and using all that advice I learned.

It was a dark and stormy night...Oh wait: SHOW DON"T TELL

The absent sound of computer keys grew less noticeable as her breath drew inward with shock...

Ready or Not...

I am heading for my first writers conference this week. Wow! But, I do feel like I felt when going to my first Prom--where I wore a borrowed dress (it looked like one a polygamist women would wear, this was the early 80's) and of course I couldn't dance. If any of you have seen the "Elaine Dance" on Jerry Seinfeld than you know what I'm talking about; and there's nothing like seeing a polygamist doing the Elaine Dance! All this preparation and getting ready, and I'm not sure what to expect.

I have had almost 5 months to prepare and this is where I stand: One manuscript that I decided to redraft (again) last month; One Screenplay (still written in spiral notebooks because I can't decide which screen writing software to purchase; and an unfinished manuscript, which happens to be the one I decided to review with an editor from Delacorte-an imprint of Random House. What was I thinking!

Well, I will go, learn the ins and outs, meet writers and enjoy.

My biggest fear is that, since it's an LDS writers conference, they'll be patting us down to make sure we don't bring in any contraband--like Diet Coke!!!