Thursday Thirteen - The Unusual

Having to work at the day job when I'd rather be shopping, or writing, is the pits. Surrounded by files, directories, notebooks, filing cabinets, and computer peripherals, just doesn't put me in a holiday mood. I have a mini poinsettia which looks like Charlie Brown's Christmas tree, and it adds a little holiday cheer to my boring, monotone office. But, there are some other, more interesting things I have scattered around.

Here's a list of 13 unusual objects in my office.

1. A bag of cereal - for a quick afternoon snack.
2. A baseball.
3. A candle (Okay, maybe not so unusual. What's unusual is they let me burn it).
4. A fire extinguisher. (It's not that big of a candle!)
5. A minifridge. (Which means I get a lot of traffic in and out.)
6. A zen rock garden.
7. Christmas decorations. (In a box under a table.)
8. A pair of wire pliers.
9. A vacuum cleaner.
10. A silver-toned serving tray.
11. An empty purse.
12. A bottle of ground cinnamon.
13. A salt lick. Yes, the kind you usually find in cow pastures.

Honestly, my office is not in a closet. It just has more room for stuff which really shouldn't be seen in the boss's offices. However, I really need to find out how the salt lick found its way under my desk.

Jessie

Monday's Moment - The Birds

Not the movie. (And to be honest, as much as I love Hitchcock movies, I've never seen more than a few minutes of this one. Rear Window is my fav.)

Picture this: I'm sitting in my office at around 2:30 p.m. Outside, it's crisp and cold, around 38 degrees Everything is quiet. One of my bosses is still at lunch, and the other is in the conference room with clients. I'm working away, caught up in the daily grind, when I hear the sound of chirping birds. The very loud sound of chirping birds, like a whole flock of them has invaded our office. Which I knew hadn't occurred because there's a signal when our door is opened, and then I realized the sound came from the conference room.

A few seconds later, one of the people exited the conference room with cell phone in hand.

About 10 minutes later, the person got another call, and again the birds were chirping wildly.
Now, I'm not one to call the kettle black. I've got my own custom ring tones on my phone. I have the chorus from Tell Me Something Good as the ring tone for an editor I'm waiting to hear from.

However, hearing the sound of chirping birds in my office really threw me for a loop and off my stride.

So, what about you? What strange ring tones do you have on your phone? Or, better yet, do you have a ring tone that will invoke images of any Alfred Hitchcock movie? I'm still seeing Tippi Hedren trapped in the phone booth....

Jessie

Friday's Fantasy

24 hours alone.

Yep, that's this fantasy writer's fantasy. Just me, my computer, some snack foods, and blessed silence through my house. I need my alone time, and haven't had any in a loooong time. Yes, the laundry needs to be done. The kitchen needs cleaning. The floors need sweeping. Stories need to be written.

And I can't get any of those things accomplished while I'm turning in circles or running in place, which is how I feel.

I don't have any plans this weekend. Maybe I can convince DH to leave the house Saturday and give me a few hours. It won't be all the time I need, but it's a start.

Have a great weekend, everyone.
Jessie

Time Warp Thursday

My alarm went off at 7:18 this morning. Yeah, I know, not a morning person here. And hey, I don't have to be at work until 8:30, with only a 15 minute commute.

So, I hit the snooze, roll over, and get the best 9 minutes of sleep (because it's stolen sleep), before the alarm goes off again. 7:27.

Then, it's my usual morning routine. I'm listening to sports radio as I get ready for work (does this really surprise anyone?), and BAM! the announcer says the time is 8:41. No, that can't be right. My alarm clock reads 7:41. I checked it twice. I know it was correct when I went to bed last night, and I know I only hit the snooze button. Besides, to change the time on my alarm clock, you have to press two buttons simultaneously, and it's awkward. Probably to keep people from accidentally changing it.

I grab the purse, the keys, lunch, and I'm out the door. Outside, it's a balmy 66 degrees, lots of cloud cover, and lots of wind. Leaves are blowing everywhere as I place my stash in the car.

Still not believing I lost an hour somewhere, I checked the clock in my car, and sure enough, the little orange numbers read 8:54.

Luckily, I have great bosses, and not a word was said about my being late when I strolled in at 9:15.

However, this bears investigating. How was my clock correct when I went to bed last night, but off an hour when I woke up this morning? I think I should call Mulder & Skully.

Jessie

Monday's Moment - Love at First Sight

Do you remember "The One Thing" from the movie City Slickers? Curly had found perfection in that one moment when he saw the woman he could have loved. For him, it was enough just to carry the moment in his heart and live the rest of his life content.

However, most of us act on the feelings of "that moment". I did. I saw my DH across a room (literally) and the world stopped. Mind, body, and soul, I knew he was the one for me. Oh, I still made him take me through the courtship ritual, after all it was the rest of my life we're talking about.

There have been some rough spots, sure. But after 18 years, the world still stops when I see him across a room.

Was it really love at first sight? I think so. Others might disagree, and that's okay. I won't say our love hasn't grown, matured, or that our friendship came as easily as the love. (Being best friends with the love of your life isn't always as easy as it sounds.)

So, what about you? Do you believe in love at first sight?

Jessie

Finally Friday

Whew! What a week it's been.

I could go into the million and one things that have gone wrong, or lopsided, this week, but why bother? It's finally Friday, and I can go home and write.

Tomorrow is SMRW's annual Christmas Party & Booksigning. We'll all be at Barnes & Noble on Kingston Pike between 2 & 5 signing books and giving stuff away.

Tomorrow night, the gkids are coming over to help us put up the tree and decorate the house for Christmas, maybe bake some cookies, drink some hot chocolate, etc. I'll be worn out.

Sunday, I'm looking forward to a big, southern breakfast. That's eggs, biscuits, gravy, fried potatoes, bacon, pancakes, and occassionally, grits. I like cheese grits. Then, settling down in front of the television to watch a little football, while reading over one of my manuscripts for revisions. But when 8:15 p.m. rolls around, it's all Indy.

I think Monday morning is gonna come way too soon.

Have a great weekend, Everyone!
Jessie

Thursday Thesaurus - Lachrymose Over Synonyms

Synonym: n.

My Handy Dandy Thesaurus suggests: Well, actually it doesn't suggest anything. However, it is included in the entries for description and equivalence.

We learned the definition of synonym in elementary school - two words which have the same meaning, or somewhat the same meaning.

As authors, we sometimes want a new word for walk, or said. Usually, because we've used walk or said a hundred times in our current manuscript, and if we're tired of using it, the reader will most likely be tired of reading it. Won't they?

Maybe. Maybe not. I won't go into that here. What I want to discuss is the author who uses the obscure word found in her thesaurus for tearful -- lachrymose. If I had read lachrymose in a book (prior to today), I would've had to look up the meaning, or try to glean it from the surrounding prose.

My first thought when encountering a $5 word is not, "Oh my, what a wonderful vocabulary this author has. He/she must be brilliant!" No, it's more like, "Did you realize the word lachrymose would pull me right out of your story and send me to my dictionary?"

In other words, I'd rather read the dictionary than stay in the world you created.

I suppose it's better than someone who'd rather read the incredients on the cereal box than your story, but only marginally so.

And after I close the book, will I pick it up again? I might, because I leave very few books unread once I start them. But it will probably go in the giveaway box.

Jessie

Wednesday W(h)ines - Christmas Trees

I love Christmas Trees. The lights, the ornaments, the tree skirts, the crisp, clean scent of winter and the holidays.

And I'm horribly allergic to them.

I don't complain about being allergic to feathers (as in down jackets, comforters, pillows, etc.), because I can stay warm in any number of coats and sweaters, and sleep comfortably on any number of pillows.

I don't complain about the various animals I'm allergic to, even though I don't get to pet them as often as I'd like, and there are some breeds which don't affect me at all.

I don't complain about being allergic to household dust, because hey, it means my hubby gets that job, as well as mowing the grass due to all the stuff I'm allergic to outside.

But, it's just not fair to be allergic to Christmas trees. And if I go to a friend's house, or a party, etc., I have to ask if they have a live tree before I go (which just seems rude), or I suffer the reaction, because after only a few minutes, it's too late to take any kind of medication. The damage is already done. Even if I take something, it's usually a good two hours or so before the effects wear off. Meanwhile, my eyes look like I've been on a 3-day drunk, I'm sneezing every few seconds, and I can't breathe very well.

With some of the newer 12 hour and 24 hour allergy medications, I could probably tolerate Christmas trees, but those medications dry me out to the point where I'm as just as uncomfortable.

So, for now, I'll stick with my artificial tree. It's pretty, but it just isn't the same.

Jessie

Tuesday Tunes - Another Suitcase

One of my favorite musicals/poperas is Evita (The original Broadway Show). However, there is one song which I always skip when I'm listening to the soundtrack - Another Suitcase in Another Hall.

The song is absolutely wonderful and haunting in it's emotional depth. It's performed by Peron's mistress after Evita kicks the teenaged girl out.

So, I'm sure you're wondering why I skip the song.

Because it has absolutely nothing to do with the story line, and it feels more like an intermission.
A few minutes for the regular cast to rest their voices.

Authors do this, too. They'll add a scene, with or without the major characters, and it does nothing to further the story. It's a good scene, but it doesn't add any substance. And guess what? I skip over them, no matter how beautifully written. Most of the time, I feel like those scenes have been added for word count. If the pace needs to slow down a little, and sometimes it does in order for the reader to catch their breath, throwing in a scene which doesn't further the plot will do more than let me catch my breath. Nine times out of ten, it will get a bookmark. There's no driving force to induce me to turn the page, and when that happens, I can close the book.

Not good.

So, any time I'm tempted to write a scene which doesn't directly impact my plot, I pull out my CD of Evita and listen to Another Suitcase in Another Hall, and remind myself why those scenes will never work.

Jessie

Monday's Moment - "Hey Stella!!!"

On December 3, 1947, A Streetcar Named Desire opened on Broadway. Marlon Brando played Stanley, Kim Hunter played Stella, Jessica Tandy played Blanche, and Karl Malden played Mitch. Vivien Leigh played the role of Blanche in the movie, and while the first quote which comes to mind is "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers," it is another Blanche quote which I believe sums up her character: "I don't want realism, I want magic."

And the movie is magic.

Stanley Kawolski is not a hero. (Neither is Mitch, for that matter.) He's crude, abusive, unrepentent in the face of his cruelty, and even though most women would never consider any kind of relationship with him, there's a raw sexuality exuding from him. As one girl I worked with once said about a man of Stanley's ilk, "I'd do him, but I wouldn't date him."

Which is why, at the end, we wonder why in the world Stella walks through the door, embraces Stanley with such passion, and let's him carry her off. But look closely at her face as she descends the stairs. He's desperate for her, crying, and for all her mousiness, in that moment, there's a tiger shining in her eyes. And the way her hands move over his back, like claws, tells us she may not be as meek and accepting of the abuse, even though she is accepting him. Or, she could just be caught in his sexual web. I like to think it's the former, and she has a little revenge planned for her husband.

No one will ever tame Stanley, and in my humble opinion, he should never be forgiven for the violent rape of Blanche and doesn't deserve the second chance from Stella.

But what if we could have the magic of Stanley without the reality? What if we could tame Stanley before he goes beyond redemption? This is why we sympathize with him even as we are sickened by his behavior.

Maybe someday, I'll have the guts to put those "what ifs" to the test and try to write a Stanley-type hero who does find redemption before he steps into the abyss of unforgivable. A man who can love unconditionally without the fatal flaws, but not flawless.

Jessie