The Books that Saved A Life

August 6, 2014 / still a dreamer / 12 Comments

A fellow writer and book-loving friend of mine just sent me this link, and as I have a moment, I want to share it that more people will get to see it. Please share.

We have all read books that were in some way life-changing. In this YouTube video series named “Call Me Ishmael,” a fellow, (named Ishmael), transcribes and shares a voicemail of one person each day telling about a book they love. In this day’s video you will hear the call made by a young man named Ethan whose mother was a crack addict and the books that quite literally saved his life. Not to be missed.

Following Our Path

July 24, 2014 / still a dreamer / 4 Comments

This morning I felt called to look into my little metaphysical perpetual calendar, and as always, what I found was perfect for my day.

“For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly.”
~ Carlos Castaneda

There are times in our lives when our path seems to disappear from view. We’ve been drawn down paths to the side that beckon and call, needing or demanding our attention – finances, relationship conflicts, illness, the illness or death of others, job worries, and other challenges and distractions. These paths can lead deeper and deeper into a woods of fading light until we feel quite lost. And then we remember, we have a thread — a simple, single luminous thread to follow. That thread glows more brightly with each step we take out of the darkness to find again the glowing path that is uniquely ours.

May you walk your path — find or refind it — happily and bravely today. May your path be illuminated by the shimmering white light that is you and the Universe, one and the same. May it leave you breathless.

~ stilladreamer

Jazzy and the B’Day Bag

July 17, 2014 / still a dreamer / 4 Comments

I’m taking a brief diversion on what was to be a triple-play on “Writing What We Know” for a very good reason – I had a photo op.

If you have or know cats, you know nothing makes them as happy as a new box or bag. They find it irresistible. So having just that – a new bag – I offered it to her highness for exploration.

First, let’s see if there’s anything inside. This might take a while.

Next, let’s see if it has the right amount of room for comfortable sleeping.

And, of course, let’s give Mom the money shot!

Never fear, animal lovers, this is a plaything for Jazzy under supervision only, lest she get her head caught in one of those pretty handles and set off to running with it caught about her neck, thus causing panic and overall, anything but the fun experience we’d been hoping for.

One day later? It’s already old news. There’s no forgetting – Jazzy’s a cat.

Writing What We Know

July 15, 2014 / still a dreamer / 17 Comments

This started out to be about three aspects of writing what we know, but I see that it would be a ridiculously long post. So I’ll divvy it up and start with a fairly recent example. I received a lovely personal response from an editor at one of the publishing houses represented at an NJ SCBWI event. I am very appreciative to receive such a thoughtful and detailed reply, although, of course, I wish it were better news. She complimented me on tackling a difficult subject, but found it a bit melancholy and added that quiet stories were not selling much in the picture book market these days. Happily, she was also very encouraging about my writing and my pursuing it.

This is where writing what we know comes in. What I know – one of the things, anyway – is about animals and their ability to affect us profoundly, both personally and through literature and imagery. This particular picture book story has a wonderful magical element to it and healing on several levels. While I don’t see it as melancholy, it still behooves me to pay attention to the perception and opinion of one who lives and breathes children’s books. But what stops me is the “quiet story” part.

I like quiet stories. I like funny stories, too, but I also like something that touches the heart and soul in some way, something that’s real, that’s a reflection of what children go through in their young lives. I get that kids like funny and action-filled, but what about the other aspects of a child? Are we no longer looking to feed that as well? Are our increasingly fast-paced and digital lives crushing the inner lives of picture-book age kids? (OK, maybe that’s extreme, but then again …)

As writers, we certainly need to be aware of the trends in the industry and what the market is looking for, otherwise we can be twirling about in our own stew of ideas that will never get published. At the same time, we need to consider what “writing what we know,” (the advice we are always given by editors and agents), actually means and where it fits in what’s being published. It’s a challenge to all of us. So I look at the body of work I have to date. Maybe it’s time to let some of my stories go; maybe I haven’t sent them out often enough and/or to the right publisher/agent who will appreciate a particular “quiet story.”

So where does the rubber hit the road? Where do writing what we know and what’s being published intersect?

Letting Stuff Go

June 24, 2014June 26, 2014 / still a dreamer / 9 Comments

Each year in my town, something wonderful happens – you can put anything you no longer want at the edge of your property and the town hauls it away for nothing! That day is this coming Saturday. And this morning it put me in a panic.

Last Saturday was the townwide yard sale where people tried to sell that same stuff. At the end of the day, some of it is taken inside and the rest is left there for the carrion pickers who start cruising the neighborhood in their pick-ups and vans. You can put anything out for those folk, but no items containing freon, electronics, and lead-based paint kind-of-stuff for the town pick-up. I’ve watched my neighbors put out bookshelves, office chairs, an air-conditioner, two small stools, and it’s already been picked up and gone.

I took these this morning – so lovely. (They are actually here just to break up the text — enjoy.)

It’s a great deal, so why panic? I already knew what I was putting out – a bunch of items that are beyond ready to go – my ancient sewing machine, (yeah – from high school!), an equally ancient vacuum whose motor just won’t die, but ran out of intact attachments, a broken lawn chair – you get the idea. When I woke up, however, it was apparent that my mind had already been running amok with what else I should put out on the curb.

I started mentally racing from closet to closet, back down the basement – what WAS in those 2 large cardboard boxes? Did I really need that old heater? Back upstairs – my turntable died about 6 months ago – it could go, too. Was I going to replace it? If not, how many of those LP’s do I need to keep? And into the pantry – did I need those canisters on the top shelf? What about the indoor electric grill – I haven’t used it since I lived here … and suddenly it dawned on me. I could get rid of maybe 10% to 15% of my belongings and it would make no difference in my life.

Wow. I was blown away – what a concept. Then back into panic mode – how much of this stuff could I conceivably get on the street in time?

OK, whooooaaaaaaa. Slow down, Nellie. It doesn’t have to all go out this Saturday. Or ever. We can think about it.

On my own behalf, I’ll say none of this is new stuff that I just got tired of – it’s stuff that I’ve gathered and used over the years, some of which genuinely needs replacing, (like the sewing machine.) And to think, I have very little storage space – a tiny basement, no attic, and no garage. My home is neat, and clearly I’ve learned to maximize storage space.

It’s time for a change – I’m ready to start letting past parts of my life go, whether 3-dimensionally or maybe metaphorically. The not wanted, the not used, the not needed. I’m ready to feel lighter, and unbound by things and ideas which populated my past, and … someone will take it away for free.

My breathing has slowed – I’m feeling lighter already.