Since the onset of Spring, uncooperative weather, health issues and scheduling snafus have prevented R.J. and I from taking a walk in the early evening. I miss that time each day when we can ignore our responsibilities for awhile, cover an unending list of pleasurable topics, and even get some need exercise - although that isn't the main reason for the stroll.
It's a habit we began decades ago when we still lived in Florida. In that tropical atmosphere, we would wait until sundown, and protect ourselves with insect repellent in order to ignore the humidity and the mosquitoes. The years we spent in a Virginia valley afforded us views of mountain peaks, rippling creek beds and a neighborhood of classic architecture as we meandered the historic streets hand in hand. And here in our Chicago suburb, we sometimes have to don a jacket, even in the summer, when cool winds come from the North.
The best thing about the evening walk is the opportunity to focus on what's all around us: trees that shade us and lean across the streets, gardens of flowers and shrubs that lend color to a background of green, bunnies hopping across the warm grass, birds flitting from tree to tree, and the activities and sounds of kids playing in their yards. In the busyness of daytime, all this ordinary splendor is often unseen as I rush past in the car on the way to work or shopping or errands. Taking it all in, and enjoying it with my best friend in life, forces me to pause and appreciate a simple joy.
Sometimes our dogs, Molly and Shayla, join us, straining at their leads at first until they realize that the purpose of this outing is a relaxing one. Then, we have to pause numerous times as they investigate a patch of grass or a tree trunk that attracts their noses. Those walks take longer, but we don't mind.
From my study window, I watch people passing during the day. There are groups of children, loaded down with backpacks on their way to school, commuters hurrying to catch their train to the City, and others taking their dogs for their daily exercise. It makes me sad to see most of them with cell phones in hand or headsets in their ears. They can't seem to divorce themselves from technology and take in what's around them.
It's even more important to do that these days. We all need moments of quiet contemplation, to just relax without any intrusion by all the devices that seek to demand our attention. I wish I could urge everyone to schedule time for an evening walk. I know my husband and I can't wait to get back at it. Trust me, it redirects your priorities - for the better, I think.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Theatre Shadows
Recently, my writing group was critiquing a scene in a chapter of my novel involving my main character's preparation to take the stage in a play. Two members of our group are actors, but the other three have no experience in the backstage world, so the questions and suggestions were varied, but all of them agreed that I needed to give the reader more.
I worked on the paragraphs for an entire afternoon and, thinking I'd done what they'd suggested, I asked one member - a fellow actor - to read the altered scene. He said he thought I could still do more. As I sat staring at the computer screen that presented the words I needed to make better, it suddenly hit me: what I have taken for granted most of my life is alien to many people - the shadows of the theatre and what they mean to an actor.
Since I was first on the boards at the age of seven, and have hardly known a year of my life that hasn't involved acting, dancing, directing, managing or producing, everything about the world of theatre is as second nature to me as breathing. That's what made writing the scene so hard - I needed to stand back from it and view it through a reader's eyes; a reader who understood nothing about the situation. I had to not only give them a visualization of the scene, but put them in the character's head so they could relate to her actions.
Standing on a silent stage, in the shadow of a set, anticipating the moment when audience and actor connect is unique and difficult to express. I was surprised by how those paragraphs slowed me down. It was so obvious to me that I made the biggest mistake a writer can - telling, not showing - and losing my audience.
A writer has an obligation, if they want their work to engage the reader, to keep revising until they get it right. So I kept at it and, just like those theatre shadows that can reward an actor for all their preparation, I'm now satisfied that my words have finally woven into the right pattern that will put the reader where I want them; feeling what my character feels in that theatre.
I worked on the paragraphs for an entire afternoon and, thinking I'd done what they'd suggested, I asked one member - a fellow actor - to read the altered scene. He said he thought I could still do more. As I sat staring at the computer screen that presented the words I needed to make better, it suddenly hit me: what I have taken for granted most of my life is alien to many people - the shadows of the theatre and what they mean to an actor.
Since I was first on the boards at the age of seven, and have hardly known a year of my life that hasn't involved acting, dancing, directing, managing or producing, everything about the world of theatre is as second nature to me as breathing. That's what made writing the scene so hard - I needed to stand back from it and view it through a reader's eyes; a reader who understood nothing about the situation. I had to not only give them a visualization of the scene, but put them in the character's head so they could relate to her actions.
Standing on a silent stage, in the shadow of a set, anticipating the moment when audience and actor connect is unique and difficult to express. I was surprised by how those paragraphs slowed me down. It was so obvious to me that I made the biggest mistake a writer can - telling, not showing - and losing my audience.
A writer has an obligation, if they want their work to engage the reader, to keep revising until they get it right. So I kept at it and, just like those theatre shadows that can reward an actor for all their preparation, I'm now satisfied that my words have finally woven into the right pattern that will put the reader where I want them; feeling what my character feels in that theatre.
Monday, May 17, 2010
My Dad
As a boy, he didn't go to church. I'm not sure when he began to attend services, but I'm sure my mother had something to do with it. He always said he didn't have a life until she was in it. I remember attending church with my parents as I was growing up, but it wasn't an every Sunday kind of thing. It wasn't until I had a family of my own that my parents became regular church goers. That's what sparked my memory yesterday as I sat in church, listening to the choir and recalling the many Sundays in his later life that my dad's voice was lifted in their church choir.
He was very proud of his service to the church, and of my mother being elected an elder there. He never missed a Sunday to don his robe and sing. After my mother died, he continued that habit and, at his funeral service, I was touched that the choir he had been a part of for many years sang a tribute to him.
What made me think of this yesterday was because it was the anniversary of his death. Twelve years he's been gone from this earth. I look at the photo of my mother and father every day, and still miss them both with an aching that can only be understood by those who have experienced the loss of a beloved parent. I miss his laugh, his arms around me in a bear hug, and his words of fatherly wisdom. He was a difficult man to live with; quick-tempered and stubborn, but I never doubted that he loved me - he showed me how in a myriad of ways that still bring tears to my eyes.
As I offered up a prayer in church yesterday, I thanked God for giving my dad the gift of song. It was such a special part of his life, and I still imagine him singing up above. That's an image that serves his legacy well.
He was very proud of his service to the church, and of my mother being elected an elder there. He never missed a Sunday to don his robe and sing. After my mother died, he continued that habit and, at his funeral service, I was touched that the choir he had been a part of for many years sang a tribute to him.
What made me think of this yesterday was because it was the anniversary of his death. Twelve years he's been gone from this earth. I look at the photo of my mother and father every day, and still miss them both with an aching that can only be understood by those who have experienced the loss of a beloved parent. I miss his laugh, his arms around me in a bear hug, and his words of fatherly wisdom. He was a difficult man to live with; quick-tempered and stubborn, but I never doubted that he loved me - he showed me how in a myriad of ways that still bring tears to my eyes.
As I offered up a prayer in church yesterday, I thanked God for giving my dad the gift of song. It was such a special part of his life, and I still imagine him singing up above. That's an image that serves his legacy well.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Eye On The Prize
The title of this post might seem cliche but it fits me today because I've given myself a lecture on doing just that: keeping my eye on the prize.
It's so easy in this day of technological distractions to find myself filling days with tasks that do not lend themselves to my main creative focus. I'm as guilty as the next person of checking my e-mail more often than necessary, logging on to Facebook with no particular objective or spending an hour playing online games.
I can also prioritize chores that do not really need my immediate attention. The laundry, the errands, the house cleaning, the bills and office organization; all these keep me from my writing goals - goals I do want to reach.
Distractions can extend to the media as well. Too much attention paid to the the latest political wrangling, the natural and human disasters that we face, or the dire economic chaos in our world can leave me beaten down and depressed. Expending too much thought on those issues can lead to a negative outlook on everything, including my ability to succeed.
It takes a special kind of stamina to maintain a positive outlook, a proper focus and a schedule that results in results. That's why the periodic self-lectures on positivity, focus and scheduling for results. It helps me to have others - my family and my writing group are the main motivators - to push me onward in my creative quest. But, most of all it's just me.
June 1 is looming. It's my deadline to begin sending out agent queries on my novel. To do that, the novel has to be complete to my satisfaction. And I still have quite a bit of revision before that is accomplished, so there's never been a better time for one of my personal push lectures. It renews my happy outlook on what can be - and that no one can make my dreams realities except me. I love Laurence Olivier's outlook on it all. He said, "I take a simple view of life: keep your eyes open and get on with it." You see? - "eye on the prize" - it works.
It's so easy in this day of technological distractions to find myself filling days with tasks that do not lend themselves to my main creative focus. I'm as guilty as the next person of checking my e-mail more often than necessary, logging on to Facebook with no particular objective or spending an hour playing online games.
I can also prioritize chores that do not really need my immediate attention. The laundry, the errands, the house cleaning, the bills and office organization; all these keep me from my writing goals - goals I do want to reach.
Distractions can extend to the media as well. Too much attention paid to the the latest political wrangling, the natural and human disasters that we face, or the dire economic chaos in our world can leave me beaten down and depressed. Expending too much thought on those issues can lead to a negative outlook on everything, including my ability to succeed.
It takes a special kind of stamina to maintain a positive outlook, a proper focus and a schedule that results in results. That's why the periodic self-lectures on positivity, focus and scheduling for results. It helps me to have others - my family and my writing group are the main motivators - to push me onward in my creative quest. But, most of all it's just me.
June 1 is looming. It's my deadline to begin sending out agent queries on my novel. To do that, the novel has to be complete to my satisfaction. And I still have quite a bit of revision before that is accomplished, so there's never been a better time for one of my personal push lectures. It renews my happy outlook on what can be - and that no one can make my dreams realities except me. I love Laurence Olivier's outlook on it all. He said, "I take a simple view of life: keep your eyes open and get on with it." You see? - "eye on the prize" - it works.
Friday, April 30, 2010
It's Christopher's Day
As I walked out of the hospital, chirping birds heralded the morning and a sky of pink blanketed the crest of the mountains, yet the moon and stars were still visible. My watch read 5:45 a.m. and less than an hour earlier, I had witnessed a new life enter the world.
That was thirteen years ago. His name is Christopher Alan and today he marks his official entrance into the teenage years. He is our daughter's second son, and our middle grandson. He has requested my special chocolate pie for his celebration, which has been postponed until Sunday because his family just got moved in to their new house in Wisconsin yesterday.
It's easy to describe him as joyous. Chris is always the first with a joke, or a pun, or a sarcastic retort, and he is never at a loss for words. When not actually speaking, he uses my magnetic poety, on my fridge, to leave inventive sayings that only he understands. He continually amuses himself by reminding me that he is now taller than I am, he is beginning to shave, and he loves to wear t-shirts with comical sayings such as "I tried to be good, but I got bored."
Funny thing, though - he is good. Maybe that's why the shirt is funny to me. And he and his brother, Alex, bring fun and light and endless memories into our home. And even though I applaud their move to a new and better future 90 minutes away, I will miss them spending every weekend with us. They share their lives and young wisdom, and enrich us in so many ways.
That perfect Virginia dawn seems so long ago. I know I've been lucky to be a continual part of Chris' life until now. And I'm certain that he will share his future with us, and that prospect pleases me.
So, here's my "Happy Birthday, Chris" moment for all the world to see:
Christopher, you never fail to make my day happier, to teach me something, or to strengthen my belief that you have much to give to the world when you grow up. Never doubt your dreams - you will make them realities. I'm sure of it. Grandfather and I love you - and we'll be there Sunday with your birthday pie!
That was thirteen years ago. His name is Christopher Alan and today he marks his official entrance into the teenage years. He is our daughter's second son, and our middle grandson. He has requested my special chocolate pie for his celebration, which has been postponed until Sunday because his family just got moved in to their new house in Wisconsin yesterday.
It's easy to describe him as joyous. Chris is always the first with a joke, or a pun, or a sarcastic retort, and he is never at a loss for words. When not actually speaking, he uses my magnetic poety, on my fridge, to leave inventive sayings that only he understands. He continually amuses himself by reminding me that he is now taller than I am, he is beginning to shave, and he loves to wear t-shirts with comical sayings such as "I tried to be good, but I got bored."
Funny thing, though - he is good. Maybe that's why the shirt is funny to me. And he and his brother, Alex, bring fun and light and endless memories into our home. And even though I applaud their move to a new and better future 90 minutes away, I will miss them spending every weekend with us. They share their lives and young wisdom, and enrich us in so many ways.
That perfect Virginia dawn seems so long ago. I know I've been lucky to be a continual part of Chris' life until now. And I'm certain that he will share his future with us, and that prospect pleases me.
So, here's my "Happy Birthday, Chris" moment for all the world to see:
Christopher, you never fail to make my day happier, to teach me something, or to strengthen my belief that you have much to give to the world when you grow up. Never doubt your dreams - you will make them realities. I'm sure of it. Grandfather and I love you - and we'll be there Sunday with your birthday pie!
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
The Month Flew By
It's been a month, I realize, as I stare at the date of my last post: how can that be? Thinking back over the last four weeks - and being honest with myself - I know exactly how that can be. Too many other responsibilities have gotten in the way of my commitment to this blog. Let me explain.
There were writing deadlines. First, I'm committed to having my book complete and being submitted to agents by June 1st. That takes a lot of schedule wrangling and uses a lot of creative juices. Second, I became intrigued with a writing contest and just submitted an entry I hope is a winner. I should also mention that, even though it isn't a "deadline", for the past thirty-plus years I've tried to write daily in a personal journal - and that's been difficult to keep up with this past 30 days.
My mind was focused on personal issues. Our daughter has been searching for a new home in a neighboring state, finally found what appears to be a perfect choice, and she and her family will be moving the first of May. We support her reasons for this move, but it means major change: we've always been minutes apart physically, and working out home schooling details and other weekly family get togethers have occupied me. Added to those concerns, the constant changing schedule of child care for our youngest grandson has meant juggling my time to write and, sometimes, sacrificing it.
We joyously escaped our routine. My husband and I traveled to Louisville, and, for the better part of five days, we relaxed, shared, laughed, ate and drank with my best girlfriend and her family. We hadn't been away from home in nearly a year and it was time more than well spent. It is an Easter I'll never forget, and the memories stored in my brain will yield some further blogs, I have no doubt.
Most importantly, I've focused on my husband. He has had some health problems that required numerous testing and I've gladly relinquished writing time to be there for him. After hours of lost sleep, worry, consultation with doctors and time sitting nervously in hospital waiting rooms, I can report that the most serious of possibilities have been ruled out, and, last night he gave me the best news ever - he feels he's turned the corner and his strength has returned. I've said lots of prayers during this time and, last night I said one of thanks. Knowing that the most special person in my life is back in the game with me is definitely a reason for grateful words.
This morning I awoke to a blue, cloudless sky and the Spring rainbow of tulips just outside my front window. Taking in the visual promises of new and positive signs of rebirth, I felt ready to make a new commitment to this avenue of words. You'll be hearing from me more regularly now, I just know it.
There were writing deadlines. First, I'm committed to having my book complete and being submitted to agents by June 1st. That takes a lot of schedule wrangling and uses a lot of creative juices. Second, I became intrigued with a writing contest and just submitted an entry I hope is a winner. I should also mention that, even though it isn't a "deadline", for the past thirty-plus years I've tried to write daily in a personal journal - and that's been difficult to keep up with this past 30 days.
My mind was focused on personal issues. Our daughter has been searching for a new home in a neighboring state, finally found what appears to be a perfect choice, and she and her family will be moving the first of May. We support her reasons for this move, but it means major change: we've always been minutes apart physically, and working out home schooling details and other weekly family get togethers have occupied me. Added to those concerns, the constant changing schedule of child care for our youngest grandson has meant juggling my time to write and, sometimes, sacrificing it.
We joyously escaped our routine. My husband and I traveled to Louisville, and, for the better part of five days, we relaxed, shared, laughed, ate and drank with my best girlfriend and her family. We hadn't been away from home in nearly a year and it was time more than well spent. It is an Easter I'll never forget, and the memories stored in my brain will yield some further blogs, I have no doubt.
Most importantly, I've focused on my husband. He has had some health problems that required numerous testing and I've gladly relinquished writing time to be there for him. After hours of lost sleep, worry, consultation with doctors and time sitting nervously in hospital waiting rooms, I can report that the most serious of possibilities have been ruled out, and, last night he gave me the best news ever - he feels he's turned the corner and his strength has returned. I've said lots of prayers during this time and, last night I said one of thanks. Knowing that the most special person in my life is back in the game with me is definitely a reason for grateful words.
This morning I awoke to a blue, cloudless sky and the Spring rainbow of tulips just outside my front window. Taking in the visual promises of new and positive signs of rebirth, I felt ready to make a new commitment to this avenue of words. You'll be hearing from me more regularly now, I just know it.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Thoughts About Today
I awoke on this first day of Spring to tiny snowflakes falling, powdering the young blades of green grass, and the tulip buds that broke ground earlier this week. First day of Spring? Well, it is Chicago after all.
My thoughts today aren't really on the weather, though. I've just completed the final revision on my father-in-law's eulogy. My husband read the first draft and cried, so I guess I hit the right mark for it. I hope Dad likes it.
This is our day to celebrate his life with our family and a few friends. Dad's almost 90 years on this earth deserve such a celebration. The words of my tribute today speak to that. But this will be a hard day, too - a day to formally say goodbye. This simple ceremony won't close the door to our emotions, though.
We are all still coming to terms with our loss and it's hardest for R.J. So, today we will find strength as a family, find strength in our faith, and strength from the comfort and condolence of friends. But, having been through this parental loss myself, I do know what R.J. is feeling and I only hope my strength can continue to speak to his grief; a grief that lessens but never ends.
So, time to get ready to go to church. I'm looking forward to letting Dad know how very much he meant to us all. And, for those friends not here with us today, I know from all your kind words that you are here in spirit and that is treasured more than you know.
My thoughts today aren't really on the weather, though. I've just completed the final revision on my father-in-law's eulogy. My husband read the first draft and cried, so I guess I hit the right mark for it. I hope Dad likes it.
This is our day to celebrate his life with our family and a few friends. Dad's almost 90 years on this earth deserve such a celebration. The words of my tribute today speak to that. But this will be a hard day, too - a day to formally say goodbye. This simple ceremony won't close the door to our emotions, though.
We are all still coming to terms with our loss and it's hardest for R.J. So, today we will find strength as a family, find strength in our faith, and strength from the comfort and condolence of friends. But, having been through this parental loss myself, I do know what R.J. is feeling and I only hope my strength can continue to speak to his grief; a grief that lessens but never ends.
So, time to get ready to go to church. I'm looking forward to letting Dad know how very much he meant to us all. And, for those friends not here with us today, I know from all your kind words that you are here in spirit and that is treasured more than you know.
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