Afraid of Bugs and a Hanging Thief

How I became afraid of bugs started when I was a child. Where else? I can only attribute this fear to a mother who was terrified of the tiniest spider on the ceiling which my Dad had to remove immediately. A little girl, being identified with her mother and all – well, clear enough where that came from. Bugs were made out to be evil itself.

But wait. My father was exactly the opposite. He carefully scooped up any intruders in his handkerchief and ushered them out the back door, free to fly or crawl away. I recall once in the summer in the backyard, I was becoming upset over a gnat in my lemonade. I know – a gnat, right? Clear as day, I remember my father saying, “Look! He’s hardly drinking anything at all!” That brought a faint smile through my tears. He sure wasn’t afraid of bugs.

Alas, my Mom’s fearful cries were louder than my father’s calm voice of reason, but in the end … Dad’s reason prevailed. Today, I know bugs are cool.

Robber Fly - Hanging Thief

Robber Fly - Hanging Thief

While I do prefer that I spot them first rather than them land on me unexpectedly lest I have a throwback experience, I realize that insects are quite fascinating. This morning I sat out on the back porch to journal. There I have a bunch of potted impatiens, polka dot plants and black coleus. Sitting with my coffee and about to write, I noticed an unusual character sitting in the impatiens. Got the digital, took some close-ups and decided to find out what it was at the end of my work day.

Fast forward to 6 p.m. and I’m on a really cool site that I just love, now that I’m not so afraid of bugs – What’s That Bug? I figured with those huge eyes, he had to be some kind of fly though he didn’t look like one. Sure enough – there he was – a Robber Fly, and of the type called the Hanging Thief. So now I know about Robber Flies, how they’re beneficial, and why I shouldn’t push my luck and aggravate one, not that I would anyway. (They have a painful bite when pushed to their limit.) Pretty cool!

OK – it’s not my plan for this to be a bug site. Really. They just seem to keep showing up when I’m sitting still. And as bugs are creepy to so many people, I guess it’s not so bad to give them a little good press. Who knows? Maybe I can help you be a little less afraid of bugs.

Make Me Smile, Make Me Cry

How often is it that you watch something on the web and you are moved to tears while feeling an inner kind of joy? Not that often in my book, but every now and then – something really hits the mark. This one did it for me.

Go take a look at Where the Hell Is Matt? and click on Dancing 2008. And then watch his Dancing Outtakes, and whatever else strikes your fancy. This guy is joining the world through dancing – he’s not going to win any dance awards – that won’t be why you check it out. You’ll be going to watch a young guy wearing a joyous smile with an energy and a love for peoples of the world who wants to share it, AND get people dancing with him. It just blows me away, and so far, everyone I’ve sent it to.

Oporto-PortugalIn his About Matt section, (his FAQ’s are pretty funny, BTW), one of the things mentioned is that Matt believes that Americans should travel abroad more. That really struck a chord with me, and I truly agree. I find that Americans as a nation are rather insular, but to travel outside of the U.S. borders is truly eye opening. The first time I left this country was to visit my cousin Norman in Portugal – I was 23 years old and had never been on a plane, leave alone in a country where I couldn’t understand one word anyone said.

Perhaps this visit should be for another posting, but let me say that the vast difference in cultures, landscapes, language, food, architecture, etc. gave me memories I’ll never forget. And yet, there was nary a soul who didn’t go out of his or her way to be kind to me, a total stranger. I think many people’s world views could change just in knowing that, despite the differences between us, there are amazing common bonds. Matt is sharing one – dancing. It really has touched me. Go look – Matt is one cool guy.

p.s. I apologize that this photo is not mine – mine are in slide format and I’ve never taken the time to learn how the thing-y that came with my scanner converts them to images I can use – but this one, taken in Oporto, (where I also visited with my cousin), is a decent stand-in for the loveliness and simplicity found in the older areas of Portugal.

Distractions of Life

Gypsy Rose in my last home - in the 1742 dining roomOne of the most frustrating things about returning from a writing conference is that it doesn’t seem to take long before the life we knew before we left seeps – or charges – back in. Two days at the Annual NJ SCBWI Conference were exciting, absorbing and brimming with promise for my future as a writer and illustrator. This had been preceded by hours and days of prep – creating a new illustration for my submitted MS, tighter editing, printing out first pages, readying a speed pitch and so on.

I came home exhausted but totally psyched. Unfortunately I was also hit the next day with a blistering sinus/migraine, but still I forged on and edited that story in the evening, cutting out another 90 words. The next day I wrote thank you’ s to the wonderful agent and editors who had critiqued my work and I began sketching for my dummy.  The following day, still in a heat wave of nearly 100 degrees and shifting barometric pressure, I got hit by another crippling sinus/migraine headache. And of course, on Monday, I’d had the usual demanding pile of work, which pays my bills, on my desk to tackle.

Point is, even for a two day conference, the afterglow doesn’t last long before the distractions of life force their way back onto our laps demanding to be fed. How not to lose that momentum? I made a new commitment. I already journal every day and miss with rare exception. However, my new commitment to my future as a children’s book writer and illustrator is to spend a minimum of 10 minutes a day doing something to further my children’s book career.

On weekends, I may spend hours working on a manuscript or sketches, and sometimes in the evening as well when I’m able. However, even on those days when I have almost no energy left, I will do something, even if only for 10 minutes. I don’t want the insights and recommendations of the agent I met and the editors I sat with to fall through the cracks. To keep them alive, I need to touch their encouragement every day, even if only briefly, until I make the next block of time. A few sketches, jotting down ideas, a bit more editing of a manuscript … whatever.

The distractions of life are never going away – that IS life. But only we, as writers and illustrators, can put them off our laps and tell them to amuse themselves for a little while – we have something very important to tend to – our futures.

Hopes and Dreams

Hopes and dreams in the SkyStargazing has become common of late. If not a longing look to the moonless sky, then a reflective gazing within. This weekend marks the convergence of aspiring authors and illustrators, publishing’s best editors and agents, plus established authors and illustrators in children’s books at the June NJ SCBWI Conference.

Each aspirant has carefully packed up his or her hopes and dreams in the form of manuscripts and portfolios, and brings them, whether boldly or tentatively, to lay at the feet of the people we hope will cherish them as we do. A fragile thing, this creativity. Like children who hope our latest scrawl is good enough to merit an honored spot on the fridge, we will search the eyes of our mentors, hoping we did good, too.

Dare we hope? A contract, another look-see, a request for a revision … some nod of approval for all it has taken to bring this seedling of an idea to its present state. Humbly, hopefully, we toss our shimmering hopes and dreams skyward.

I believe there’ll be quite the reason to stargaze over Princeton this weekend.

Best of luck, everyone!

What the WGA Strike Did For Me

In 6 words? It gave me my evenings back!

WGA strikeI don’t suppose I’m terribly different from anyone else when I say after working an average 10+ hour day, having something to eat and feeding the small fry, all I really want to do is relax for a little while. It’s not unusual for me to catch a couple hours TV before hitting the sack if I’m not elsewhere for the evening. I’m not a TV addict at all, but I do enjoy some well done shows a few nights a week. Not too much to ask, right?

And then came the writers’ strike. OK, for awhile some of the shows still had some episodes in the can to play out, and then it just flat out came to Repeats. I’d check online to see if anything good might be on on a given night … more Repeats. Hey, this was getting boring.

Next thing I know, I was picking up that novel I was usually reading at 10:30 or 11 pm at 8 pm. I was doing the artwork I thought I was too tired to do curled up on the couch away from my work desk. I threw in some laundry; cooked something a little more involved. Hey! I remember this! It used to be my life! What’s most amazing is that I really didn’t think I had this energy in the evening until someone took away my quiet, drool time in front of the TV.

I hear that the strike is in the process of being resolved. Figures. Just when I was starting to enjoy it.