Category: Life and Other Fun

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books, reading and inspiration

A few years back, a friend who is also an author, turned me on to a conference that takes place in Colorado in October. It isn’t a writing convention, but a lot of the people there are authors.  It isn’t a readers convention, though everyone there are readers.

I couldn’t go last year because I chose Italy (and do not regret that decision), but I’m all signed up for this year.

One of the things I love about Sirens, is that on top of all of the conversations, panels, and learning experiences, they provide you a reading list, filled with books written by strong women authors in genres where women are often overlooked.  It is a huge list of speculative fiction that hits multiple genres and sometimes mixes them together.

This year’s theme is Heroes, and the guests of Honor, on top of being kickass authors with heroes in their books, they are diverse and the words they offer bring you to new places.  I started at the top of the list and bought the first three books from our Guests of Honor.

The first one I read was The Bloodprint.  Bloodprint

A fantasy set in a world where religious extremists have taken over and twisted their holy text to keep women out of sight, with no voice or presence, and keeping the men in line with fear.  It’s easy to see the parallels to our own world.  The hero, in this case, is a woman who knows how to use the scripture of that religion to perform magic.  Her journey takes her far from home in search of a legend in hopes of freeing her world.

I loved how different this world was from the familiar fantasy story.

 

 

Trail of Lightning

 

Trail of Lightning was the second book I read, and I devoured it in a single day.

This falls into post-apocalyptic and dystopian type categories, and our hero is a Diné, a monster-slayer with a dark past and powers that burst out of her, giving her speed and the ability to kill.  The world is filled with old gods and monsters, and she needs to come to terms with her past before she can survive to see the future.

This book sucked me in and held me through the end and at the end, I really, really wanted more.  I have already ordered the next book.

 

I love books like these, that fill my head with ideas, that make me think and rethink.  Inspiration struck me yesterday and I spilled over 2000 words on a short story before 5am yesterday after finishing this book the night before.

Want to join me on this reading challenge?  Grab some books and get reading!  Better yet, want to join me at Sirens?  Denver, October.  Dive in.  You won’t regret it.

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the elusive nature of unconditional love

Back in the day when I was an evangelical Christian (yes, really), I  spoke a lot about unconditional love.  I believed that I acted inside that love.  I believed that I understood what unconditional love really was.

The truth is, I was clueless.

It took a lot of changes in my life to realize that.  It took leaving behind everything I thought I knew, everything I believed.  It took discovering myself under all of the layers of learned behavior and belief/fear conditioning.  I often liken those days to days spent in a cult.

Unconditional love is something that springs from inside you and because of that, nothing external to you can change it.  Nothing someone does, nothing someone says can change that kind of love.

That’s a really powerful thing.  It’s the kind of thing that changes lives.  It changed mine.  I’m not saying I practice it perfectly, I am, after all, still human.  And I’m not aiming for sainthood here.  I still make snap judgments about people.  I still criticize things I know I shouldn’t.  But I try to embody unconditional love to all.

It’s what drives me to act with kindness.  To meet people where they are, as they are and try to be helpful without inserting my own prejudice and needs into their life.  It’s why I can be friends with people so very different to me. How I can give of myself where others won’t.

Sure, sometimes I miss the mark, but the longer I practice this idea, the longer I choose to put love and kindness ahead of judgement and fear, the better I get at it.   I just keep hoping to one day get it right.

I hope your Saturday is filled with the light of Love, Readers, and that you radiate that love back out into the world around you.  Let’s light this place up!

 

 

 

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Gram’s Town

Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve had a love of horror novels.  I found a John Saul book at a garage sale when I was around 14, and having already cut my teeth on Steven King’s Salem’s Lot and Carrie, I was hungry for more.

That book was Comes the Blind Fury.

comes the blind fury

I’m not a huge fan of most horror movies, mostly because it’s the psychological horror that pulls me in, not none stop blood with no real story to induce the fear response.  But books?  Yes please.

It should come as no surprise then that I have had my own horror story floating about in the darker recesses of my brain since about the time I was 17.  It has never really made it to the page, because I had trouble finding my voice.

However, recently I wondered if I could condense it into a short story for an upcoming anthology, and words started to pour out.

Yes, this makes three novels currently in some stage of creation on my computer.  This is me, after all.

I doubt it will be short enough for the anthology, now that I’ve gotten into it, but that’s okay.  It’s fun to be writing something very different from my usual.  The constant rain here is very atmospheric as well.

Speaking of rain, I had to wade through rivers of run off to get into the office this morning, and I should probably dive into the ever present, ever growing pile of work.

Happy Wednesday, Readers!  I hope you find yourself someplace sunny and warm, with kindness as your companion.

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#amwriting Saturday

I am working on a short story this morning, a foray into the world of horror.  The story itself has been floating around in my head for years, and I figured it was time to bring it into being.

It’s another rainy Saturday here in California, and I’m still down with the cold that attacked me last week.   I’m feeling better, but as usual, the cough lingers and is slowly stripping me of my voice.

It’s hard to believe it’s March, and with the coming of March comes the time of year where my time is increasingly filled up with Pride duties.  Add in an anthology to edit and other fun and my days become filled with stuff to do.

At least it keeps me out of trouble, more or less.  Plus the day job has a lot going on this month too.  When it rains it pours.

That’s all I’ve got this morning, though Readers.  Time to get some coffee going and some words flowing.

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go, go gadget girl

I’m the first to admit, I am a lover of gadgets.  If I could, I would have all the gadgets.  Well, maybe not all of them.  I’m not an Apple lover (but I couldn’t find a freely available picture of a collection of Samsung gadgets).

Some gadgets I came to late in the game.  My first MP3 player was a gift from a company I was working for at the time.  My first fitness tracker was a gift from my mother.

This week I stepped up from just a fitness tracker to a smart watch.  My hesitancy to make the jump had more to do with battery life than anything, and I am still trying to find my rhythm with when and where to charge it.

I’m still wearing my Fitbit for the time being too, as I figure out the differences between them so that I can interpret the results on my Samsung watch in relation to what I am used to.  For example, as I sit here at my office desk, my Fitbit says I’ve put in 2846 steps, while the watch says 2196.  The other area I notice a real difference is in sleep tracking.

The whole point of the watch was to replace the Fitbit, which is having serious issues since I cracked the screen in Italy.  Doing it before the Fitbit dies completely was important to me, so that I could make the transition the way I am.

Of course, the problem with all this connectivity is that I get notifications for things on my computer, my phone and my watch now, and they aren’t perfectly in sync, so they buzz, buzz, buzz at me!

Anyway, it’s another rainy day here in San Francisco.  I hope there’s some sunshine where you are, Readers!  I’m off to have some coffee.

 

Photo by Pepi Stojanovski on Unsplash

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wedded bliss

All around me people are planning weddings.  I must know at least twelve couples getting married this year.  I’m happy for them, if that is what they truly want in their lives.  Love is, after all, a wondrous thing. For myself, however, I can love freely without needing to be defined as a half of a couple.

I’ve known since I was in my early teens that marriage was not something I aspired to.  I have nothing against marriage, I just never saw myself as a married woman.  As I aged and discovered that there were options outside of straight, monogamous marriage and I started to understand myself better, I realized that the reason I had no designs on finding that one true love is that, for me at least, love is so much bigger than that.

I was introduced to polyamory as a concept nearly twenty years ago.  It made so much sense to me, for me.  Not that I am seeing anyone right now, but when I am dating, it will be a relationship built on mutual love and trust, and the understanding that he or she is not my one and only.

I haven’t tipped my toe into the dating pool in a while, and I don’t plan to any time soon, though as wedding season rolls around, it would be nice to have someone to take with me, even if just to forestall the conversation about why I’m not dating/coupled/engage/married.  Somehow complete strangers seem to think they have the right to ask me about these things when I show up to events alone.

If I had a dime for every time I’ve been told I just haven’t found the “right person” I could retire on my own private island.  At fifty years old, I’m having the time of my life, just like I am.  I don’t need a husband or a wife to complete my life.  Love infuses my life, and when I feel the pull toward a person, I explore it, without hitching my ride to another’s existence.

Either way, love wins.  Love should always win, marriage or not.

Happy Saturday, Readers!  I hope love infuses your day, and happiness fills your pockets.

Photo by Marc A. Sporys on Unsplash

 

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common courtesy

When you ride the same train every day, stand in the same spot to wait for it, you tend to get to know the people who also ride the same train every day and stand in the same line to wait for it.  You also get to know the peculiarities of that station’s particular etiquette.

For example, the spot where I wait, we line up along the yellow line, rather than from the yellow line back, because there is only a small area behind us before the bench and the wall, and when the line gets long, it can block people from getting past us down the platform.

Sometimes, we get someone who either isn’t really paying attention, or is accustomed to other ways of standing in line.  Normally, we give them a few minutes to realize where the line is, and if they don’t seem to get it, we kindly tell them where the line is.

Normally, they say something like “Oh, sorry,” and they move. Sometimes they ignore us.  This morning, there was a man who was standing behind those of us already in line.  As per our usual, one of our regulars smiled and let him know where the line ended.

His response was borderline hostile.  He said, “Who cares?” and took a step closer.  So we tried to explain the reason the line was formed to the right, and he continued to be aggressive.  It didn’t matter what we said, all efforts to be polite and friendly led to him getting angrier and angrier until he finally cussed at us and told us we “better just drop it,” in a threatening tone.

When the train finally came, he parked himself in an accessible seat, put on a pair of sunglasses and ignored anyone and everyone.   The whole encounter left me feeling crappy, so I stopped into Starbucks and picked up four coffees (because I couldn’t carry more than that), then handed the cashier my Starbucks card and said to use it for the next however many people the balance would cover.

On my way out I loaded up with creamers and sugars and went on about my way to work, gifting coffees to the first four homeless people I came across.  By the time I got to the office, I felt so much better. I hope someone buys that bitter man a coffee today, or otherwise gives him a kindness that will improve his outlook.  Six AM is far too early to be that angry already.

Happy Wednesday, Readers!  Kindness Matters!  Pass it on!

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cabin fever

About this time of year, I start to itch for travel.  I want a weekend away, or a road trip or an adventure. It’s the same every year.  The middle of February brings with it a need to do something, anything, as long as it is away from here.

For a lot of years, I went to a Pagan convention in San Jose, CA on President’s day weekend, and that scratched the itch pretty successfully.  The last few years though, that convention has become too much for me.  I’m thrilled that they’ve grown so much, but at the same time, it is really hard for me to cope with that many people for four days.

So this President’s Day weekend, I’m here at home, still itching to go somewhere, do something.  Which is difficult when you are purposefully not spending money and working hard to put money aside for planned holidays in the fall.

I’d love to sit on a beach and watch the sun set…and rise again…or sit beside a roaring fire while the snow falls outside the cabin.

So for today I’m going to focus on giving myself a “me” day.  I have an appointment today to have my hair colored and trimmed, and when I get back, I’ll maybe have a nice soak in the tub and such, while reminding myself of the shenanigans I have planned in September in LA and the convention in October in Denver.

What about you, Readers?  Has cabin fever set in?  How do you deal with it?

Happy Saturday!  I’m off to enjoy this cup of coffee and see about getting some words down on paper.

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telling stories

When I was still in high school, someone from the church we were attending found an old typewriter and had it cleaned up and repaired and I found it under my Christmas tree.  We were barely making ends meet, and with little money left over for gifts, my mother had reached out to the church for help.

I had a head full of stories, it seems that has always been true.  And suddenly I had a way, beyond my terrible handwriting, to tell them.  It was an amazing gift, one that likely changed my life.

I wrote my first “novel” by hand when I was thirteen or fourteen.  It was truly awful, and a rip off of every science fiction movie or book I had read. But, it started something in me.  My friends read the hand written words and clamored for more.  The sequel to that first awful book was the first thing I wrote on that typewriter.

I’ll admit, it was a heady feeling to be met at the school doors before homeroom by four or five people wanting to get the next ten pages.

I learned a lot through that experience.  I learned to translate my thought processes differently.  I learned about plot development and foreshadowing.  I learned the joy of having readers who loved my work, even when I broke their hearts.

None of the novel length stories I banged out on that typewriter were any good, but that didn’t matter.  I was a writer, and that, as it turns out, wouldn’t change even as I aged.  I am quite a few years past that Christmas and those stories.  My head is still filled with plots and characters and words.  I still work at putting them down on the page, though my paper is now digital.

Best Christmas present ever?  Maybe so.  It gave me so much more than just a tool.  It gave me confidence, joy…it sparked a passion that still burns inside of me today.

The rain is really coming down outside my window, and the wind is howling on this cold Wednesday afternoon.  I think a cup of coffee is in order, and a start to the work day.  I hope you are all safe and warm, Readers.  Fill your day with kindness, and reap the joy it brings.

 

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breaking through

Happy Saturday, Readers!  I hope that you’re safe and warm and out of all of this crazy weather!  Here in Northern California it’s been very wet and colder than we’re used to, making for good times to stay inside with a good book and a cup of tea.

I’m now a week + out from my surgery and healing is progressing well.  I’m up to walking a full mile, which means it’s time to go back to work.  I’m also writing again for the first time in quite a while, working on a short story for an anthology that benefits a writer’s conference I will be attending in October.  I will also be editing that anthology in the near future.

If you want to follow my weight loss journey, I invite you to follow along in my blog devoted to that: aweightyjourneysite.wordpress.com.  It is likely I will stop talking about it so much here.

It feels good to have broken through the writer’s block that’s been plaguing me, and I think turning my attention to something new was a big reason I finally got through it.  I’ve only got a vague notion of where this story is going, but it’s built on a character that has been kicking around the back of my brain for a while.  It’s also a foray into true science fiction, which is always a fun playground.

Wishing you a cup of your favorite hot beverage, the comfort of a favorite blanket and some really good reading material!

 

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