Storymaker Magic

I'M A STORY MAKER & I LOVE IT! 

So having a blast at the LDStorymakers Conference was easy— 

Leaving was hard. 
Only one other car on the parking level when I left.

Taking the elevator IN from the parking palace—exhilerating.

Riding it OUT—excruciating.

Makes me think of Amber Argyle's captivating class when she said a flaw in the magic could be good and bad. The magic of that elevator lost its coolness when it ushered me away from friendly agents & editors, fascinating presentations, and amazing writer friends.

But you know what I think?—if life hands you a flaw in the magic, 

DON'T PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

(Take a guess at what brilliant thing I was saying right there. 

Hey, I was tired!)

LIGHTS! COVER! ACTION!

I FOUND MYSELF!


On the cover of a 1963 Archie Comic book I discovered at the Second Chance Antique Shop.


Look! Read it for yourself! Read the word bubble— 

See, see?! And I do love movies.


HEY! I just realized something—My name's on the cover of a book! I'm on the cover! My name's in lights! I'm on the cover! 


Ce-le-brate good times, come on!

Window Ghosts

What a fascinating pastime it is to window shop at old and mind-mystifying buildings. 


I love the possible puzzles.
The imaginings of what happened there once upon a time.
The relics with a story to tell.
The thrill of wandering ghosts.


A few days ago, I lounged on the dentist's chair in the Office of Oral Ornateness. Smack in front of me, a large picture window framed a century-plus-twelve-years-old building—now a theatre for play performances. 

And it mesmerized me. 
The chimneys and railings and vent in the attic.
And the windows.


I was sure there must be a ghost cavorting around inside and if I kept a steely eye on the windows, I would surely spy one. 


So while I watched, I sketched the shivery building. 

And pondering the wisps of folks long gone, I studied the open slats in the attic, the rows of windows—one of them missing the wooden cross bars (a story begging to be told), the basement windows encased in stones and brickwork, the railing that appeared to descend into the realm of the basement. 

And I'm sure a ghost or two traveled past the windows, anxious to tell me their stories, to send vibrations of themselves into the wonderings of someone like me. 

So to all my ghostly friends out there

who whisper your riveting tales—

A thousand thanks.

And a smile.

Knowledge Aflame

I'M A LIFETIME MEMBER OF THE KNOWLEDGE EXPLORER'S GUILD!

I love unearthing gems of information through talking to people, reading, attending conferences, joining museum tours, and on and on and on.

Here's the scene of the last treasure hunt I went on.
   — Actual rooms at LTUE where I found an immense stash of knowledge!

Doesn't it just give you thrills? 

To think of the vast store of knowledge just out there waiting for us to discover it—now that's a thrilling adventure. — And one of the reasons I love LTUE so much. Such a variety and depth of classes, you can't help but learn scads! 

Among my favorites are the student presentations on papers they've written, and classes that are worlds away from what I write. I find the best sparks there! —Here's a great example— 

Last year at LTUE, at the last class of the day, there wasn't a class I was especially interested in, so I attended one titled Lovecraft. I figured even though I didn't write romance, I could learn something. 

   I settled in, the presenters spoke, and WHAT DID THEY JUST SAY?! Lovecraft is a horror writer?! Seriously? Lovecraft?! Unbelievable! 

   I almost left the class since I don't write or read horror, but I stayed for that spark, remember. And I'm so glad I did. The panel wasn't anything like I thought it would be, and I took a page and a half of notes. AND—I used a spark of an idea from the class in my current novel! Yes! 

So in your knowledge expeditions, don't push away the places that look odd, despicable, boring—dig for the sparks! 

Oh, and I have to tell you— 

ONE OF MY FAVORITE PRESENTERS IS CLINT JOHNSON. 

He's brilliant! If you ever get a chance to attend one of his classes, run! And be ready to catch all the sparks. At his presentation on Voice & Style last year at the League of Utah Writers Conference, he urged us to do something we'd never done before, something we'd never had any desire to do. 

Like say, you've never had an inkling to watch a demolition derby—GO DO IT! It'll enrich your life, your writing, and your understanding and enjoyment of the people around you. 

Here's Clint's website—jump on over and say hey!

And go do something, read something, listen to something you've never thought of before.

AND WATCH THE SPARKS FLY!

LATOOIE!

YEP, THAT'S WHAT I CALL MY FAVORITE WRITER'S CON EVER SINCE MY DAUGHTER DUBBED IT SO! 


THAT'S LTUE! 

LIFE, THE UNIVERSE & EVERYTHING

WRITER'S CONFERENCE!

Behold, the glorious poster & registration directions!

This week I'll be posting about why I love LATOOIE so much. 

And to start out with—TA-DA! 

Clips of my LATOOIE Pals! 

ROLL 'EM!

SCREECH! HALT! URCH! 

(How are you supposed to spell urch anyway? You know, where you swerve to a sudden stop, feet smoking!) 

THE MUSTACHE BANDIT STRUCK! 

ARGH! 

LATOOIE PALS—

TAKE 2

ROLL 'EM!

MY DAUGHTER, DANICA!

CURSES! MUSTACHED AGAIN! 

OKAY, SO AHEM, THE MUSTACHIOED VICTIM 

IN EACH PHOTO WOULD BE ME. 

(Grumble, just you wait, you vile Mustache Bandit!)

RRRGH! ON WITH THE SHOW!— 

MY SON DEREK!

(He had to leave a day early and I 

failed to get a picture of him with me. Blast!) 

CHANTELE SEDGWICK, KATIE DODGE, & RUTH JOSSE!

BONNIE GWYN JOHNSON!

SHELLY BROWN, MELANIE FOWLER, & J. A. BENNETT!

DAVID POWERS KING!

ANGIE LOFTHOUSE!

JAMES DUCKETT!

ROBIN WEEKS!

ROSE KRUGER!

BRODI ASHTON!

ELANA JOHNSON!

PEGGY EDDLEMAN & ERIN SUMMERILL!

ABBY FOWERS/LEIGH COVINGTON & DONNA KING WEAVER!

ELIZABETH MUELLER!

J. D. RAISOR!

AND OH! THERE ARE SO MANY MORE MARVELOUS FRIENDS I WISH LIKE CRAZY I COULD'VE SNAPPED A PICTURE OF! — 

SHALLEE McARTHUR, JOSIE KILPACK, JENNI JAMES, LISA MANGUM, LESLI MUIR LYTLE, KAREN HOOVER, BRANDI & JESSICA RUSH, CLINT JOHNSON, TRISTI PINKSTON, BREE DESPAIN & MANY OTHERS!

THANKS EVERYONE FOR MAKING LATOOIE MARVELOUS! 

AND NOW, FOR THAT WILY BANDIT— 

( CALM DOWN, WILL YA. I REPLACED THE BULLETS IN THIS HERE PISTOL WITH A  GRAPPLING HOOK TO SNATCH THE INFERNAL MARKER OUT OF THE MUSTACHE BANDIT'S HAND! CHARGE!)

(AND I PROMISE, THERE'S NOT EVEN ONE BULLET LEFT!)

Travel Agogity

I love to travel.

To places only a smidgen of people have seen, spots with hidden curiosities waiting to surprise me, renowned and mesmerizing locales. 

They're places I've never seen— 

with my eyes, that is.

You see, I travel through the grand adventures of others. Sure, I'd love to be a genuine adventurer, but since that's not an option, traveling vicariously is one of my favorite hobbies. 

I have a splendid collection of old travel books hailing from the early 1900's. I love reading of people's travel experiences. I revel in the details, in the intriguing things I didn't know.

So I was happily surprised when I discovered a writer friend—Irene Hastings—had penned a tome of her experiences living in Italy!  

I LOVED IRENE'S DANCING ON GRAPES!

As I read, I felt a great longing to tell Irene how much I loved her book, so halfway through, I said to her in an email—  "I didn't expect to experience such a gamut of feelings as I accompanied you on your adventures, but your story is taking me on such a deep, rich, fascinating journey that I feel so many things!"

     

THANKS IRENE!

Irene and I at The League of Utah 

Writers Conference last September.

AND! 

I RELISH MEETING BLOGGERS FROM OTHER COUNTRIES—WHAT AN EXPERIENCE!

So Adventure away! 

And remember—

     "Years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. 

Explore. Dream. Discover."

                                                                     ~ Mark Twain

Seriously? Seriously!

Welcome fellow friends, colleagues, casual gawkers.
I finally finished the nightmare producing, hair yanking out ordeal of formatting my book to print for the book club to read. And I ordered it! Yes! I'll let you know how it all went after the book-club-ians discuss my book in their March meeting.

And now, I have a Pronouncement to make. Not an Announcement, mind you. That wouldn't be formal enough — a little too levitous, if you please.
So without further ado, I give you my Pronouncement—

TODAY, I SHALL BE SERIOUS.

As of this very moment, I have a contemplative look on my face, one of deep earnestness. So, thusly attired, I deliver my ponderings and experiences.
Ahem—

A fortnight ago, I stumbled upon a rare find for sale, a jewel in my realm of living. 'Twas a set of fifteen books from 1901, titled:

THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT: 

Now first completely done into English prose and verse, 

from the original arabic, by JOHN PAYNE

Gold leafed, Published in London, Limited to Five Hundred Copies— of which mine was No. 349.

I HAD to have it! To my profound delight, it hadn't been sold and I scooped them up with lightning euphoria. Happiness! HAPPINESS!! HAPPINESS!!!
Oh my. Seriousness, remember, seriousness. Ahem.

So I peeked in one of the books to launch my treasure hunt, found a good spot in the middle of volume III, cozied up in a blanket, and began reading the tale of

KEMEREZZEMAN AND BUDOUR.

The story goes that the king of the Khalidan Islands had scores of daughters and no sons. Fretting over the lack of an heir, he prayed "a two-bow prayer with a believing heart" And gladness! — he was blessed with a son! A son! — did you hear that?

And oh, what a splendid son! He'd been "clad in the habit of beauty and crowned with the crown of perfection."

Behold! A picture of him with an angel who "abode awhile, 

astounded at his beauty and grace."

Ah, the description of him that follows!—you've GOT to read this for yourself.

Oh no. I can't do it. I'm starting to laugh at the mere thought of it.
I'm so sorry. I rescind my Pronouncement—all seriousness is off.

Just start reading along this passage and you'll hit the part where you'll understand why I can't keep my oath. You just see if YOU can be serious—

CAPICHE? 

SOMETHING IN ARABIC PRINTED ALL BY ITS LONESOME ON A PAGE
BEFORE THE STORIES ALL BEGIN. WHAT DO YOU SUPPOSE IT MEANS?

Bracing For Book Club Caterwauling

GOOD MORNING!
And if it's not morning in your neck of the woods, calm yourself by remembering that it's morning somewhere in the world!

So I've been busy spiffing up my Feel-Good Mystery (for the adult-type audience) so my courageous Sis can present it to her Book Club to read in February. I say courageous, because what if her book club peers think her daft for recommending such a novel as mine. So, yeah, she's a brave soul.

Anywho - I'm jazzed to see what complete strangers think of my book. And stomach-twisted-up-in-knots afeared. Uh-huh.

SO I'VE GOT TO BE STRONG!

(I MEAN, LOOK AT HIM - HE'S SO STRONG, HE MADE LIGHTNING  STREAK ACROSS HIS SHIRT!)

NOT BLOW MY TOP AT 

THEM-THERE'S-GROUNDS-FOR-WAR SUGGESTIONS.

QUELL PANIC MODE WHEN MY INSIDES FEEL LIKE 

I'M PLUMMETING DOWN THE WEE KIDS ROLLER COASTER.

AND ESPECIALLY, VITALLY - DON'T CRY MY EYES OUT.

BUT IF I JUST CAN'T STOP MY EMOTIONS FROM GUSHING . . . 

THEN I'LL JUST PICK 'EM UP, DUST 'EM OFF, AND STICK 'EM BACK ON. 

So, in February, those Wonderful Book Club Benefactors will be reading my book and I'll be receiving strange vibes through the atmosphere. It's true. Really. Didn't you know there's an author-stratosphere-kinda-thing goin on, transmitting stuff to writer's souls? I heard about it. Intense, huh? 

And in March— 

I'LL REAP THE REWARDS OF THEIR INPUT 

AND SPIFF UP MY STORY AGAIN!

AND THEN— I'LL CELEBRATE WITH CHEESECAKE OR SOME SUCH SCRUMPTIOUS DESSERT OVER 

MY SURVIVAL OF THE BOOK CLUB! 

AH, NO! I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING— WHAT IF I DON'T SURVIVE?!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

A Real Scoop

Christmas is over - Boo-hoo, I love Christmas! 
But I'll share a parting gift from my holiday adventures — a great laugh I experienced while madly shopping online.

I was searching Amazon for a scoop to go with the popcorn machine my son was getting when I found this offering— 

Paragon Plastic Popcorn Scoop

What?, you say. Why am I sharing this scoop that is sadly, seemingly, sans humor? Patience, patience, my friends. Don't blame the scoop, it can't help it. It's not in its nature to be funny. 


Okay, so on with the story — after I perused the specs & pertinent info about this little scoop, I scrolled down to weigh the reviews and ran across one that had me really laughing —Wahoo for people who surprise the world with spontaneous mirth and applaudable ingenuity! 

So without further ado— THE REVIEW! 

ROLL EM'! 

"5 of 5 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Scoop this scoop!!!, November 5, 2011

By 

OD (Earth) 

This review is from: Paragon Plastic Popcorn Scoop (Sports)

It's a scoop! And it's yellow! The yellowist, scoopiest yellow scoop ever!!!

You will not be disappointed in this fantastic scoop. Neither too big nor too small, it is just the right size for a yellow scoop, and it picks up popcorn (not included) PERFECTLY. It also pours it into the serving vessel OF YOUR CHOICE (not included), with ease!

I was a little disappointed with the lack of directions, but I'll tell you, this scoop is so intuitive, it almost doesn't need directions at all. The handle is just right for putting your fingers around; the popcorn is lifted with the wider ("Scoop") end of the device. It feels hefty and well-made, with plenty of strength for even your heaviest, butteriest corn.

The eye on the handle allows one to display this fine piece of kitchen art in any underdeveloped corner of the kitchen.

Picture this fine piece of perfected sculpture reminiscent of the lines of Eames and George Jetson.

Hang a beautiful piece of work in an underappreciated corner of your pathethic Soho kitchen and watch the WOW! factor take over and brighten that dark corner.

YELLOW! It's the new black. "

I LOVE IT! WHAT PANACHE! WHAT HUMOR! WHAT A CHARACTER! 


I love characters. Whether they're ones I meet in books, movies, or real life— I relish meeting them all. And I'm dancing a happy jig in anticipation of all the interesting characters I'll meet in 2012! 


Thanks, splendid reviewer of the Paragon Plastic Popcorn Scoop! I hope, I hope, I hope to meet you in person one day.

So what do you think about ChARaCteRS?

Diabolical Doings

So back in High School, in my How To Dramatize Your Life class — AKA Drama — the teach invited us to go around the room and say what food described us. When it came my turn, I proclaimed myself to be a taco. "Sometimes I'm mild like the cheese," I said, "and sometimes I'm spicy like the meat."

Which brings me to my recent gift shopping caper—

 I disobeyed THE SIGN.  

I'm serious, dead serious. 

Here's the scene of the rebellion. I needed a glowing white robe from the top rack which I could not reach from my non-NBA-basketball-player-height. And I was in a hurry.

Aha! I spied a hook for retrieving high stuff and I nabbed it.

Did you notice the sign on the wall right above the hook?  

(OBSCURE CLOSE-UP OF SAID SIGN)

It says —and I'm rephrasing— DON''T YOU DARE TOUCH THIS HOOK. IT'S FOR EMPLOYEES ONLY AND WE DON'T WANT TO BE LIABLE FOR YOUR STUPIDITY.

I was in a hurry.

Despite past clumsical errors, I had faith in my ability to use the hook without stupidity. So I surreptitiously checked for employees in the area, pulled down 4 robes of the wrong size, and after laughing so much employees should've come running, I snagged me a robe of the right size.

(Photos have been judiciously altered to avoid recognition and recrimination and I will vehemently deny that the person in the photos is me should the urgent need arise.)

THREE CHEERS FOR TACOS!

WHAT FOOD ARE YOU LIKE?!