MY TWENTY-TWO THINGS

My Grandmother with Pop-Pop

These are things I've learned the hard way; and I have lots of personal experience with hard times  - either those that came upon me beyond my control, or those I thrust upon myself. Some of these are things I learned to avoid the latter situation. The rest of them help me cope with the former.

I write these as a reminder to MYSELF! Here we go.

1.    You cannot change people. You can give advice when asked, and/or lend a hand; but, only they can change themselves or their circumstances - OR, as my grandmother used to say "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink."

2.    Who cares what other people think? This includes relatives and friends (who may or may not be actual friends). What matters is that you are real, true to yourself, that you respect others, and that you have ethics, honor and integrity. Everything else is strictly your own business and not subject to the transitory and subjective opinions of others. Be your own person. March to the beat of your own drummer. Believe in yourself.

3.    Labels are BS - and damaging. This is nothing more than laziness in place of getting to know people, and/or working to truly understand them. Don't label people, or allow them to label you. We are all far more complex than *any* label. This includes name-calling - see #'s 2, 7, 9 and 17 in this list.

4.    Age is a label - get over it. Saying "I'm old" is a useless, negative, self-limiting, complete waste of the time you have here (this includes people in their twenties who I hear saying this). Stop it, already! How many times you've ridden this water-logged rock around the homestar is irrelevant, since everyone's ride is different. Some people make the most of their ride, while others just piss and moan about how many orbits they've made and how "old" they are. In other words, your mileage may vary - and it may vary according to your ATTITUDE!

5.    You were sent here to do something in particular. Whatever it is, it's important - *whatever it is*! Do it. Don't waste the gifts the Big Guy gave you and don't let others judge how you use them; just make yourself useful.

6.    Find the positive perspective in everything. It's there - find it! Sometimes this is difficult; but, it is always beneficial - and the benefit inures mostly to YOU.

7.    Be courteous - especially in dicey situations where you want to tell someone off; or as Mama used to say "never sink to the level of your adversary", or "don't dignify an insult or bad behavior with a response"; or "consider the source." This doesn't mean you have to suck up to someone nasty. It means keep your dignity. Take the high road. Obviously, courtesy in other situations is easy - do that, too.

8.    When dealing with a negative, difficult, unpleasant, or just downright bad person, remember this:  they were an innocent, defenseless baby once. Somebody screwed that up for them. Try to keep that in mind. It doesn't mean they aren't responsible for themselves or their actions. They are. Keep it in mind anyway - for YOUR sake.

9.    Harsh words galvanize others against you, and your objectives. You will not convince others of the error of their ways with haranguing and criticism. I don't care how great the cause, being obnoxious is not the way to champion it. Intelligent, carefully chosen words make it easier for them to change their course as you wish; or, as Grandma used to say: "you can draw more flies with honey than you can with vinegar."

10.    Trends are BS. Instead do what works best for you and if it happens to coincide with a trend, then so be it. Be classy, tasteful, and courteous. First impressions *do* count no matter what trends may dictate. Be a trend setter, not a follower.

11.    All publicity is *not* good publicity, unless you care nothing for your dignity, honor and integrity - in which case you are a prostitute of some kind or another (yes, it's harsh - but, if you are selling your honor cheaply, then I rest my case). The means to an end *does* matter as much as the end itself. There will come a day when your dignity, honor and integrity will matter absolutely. Make sure you still have all of them when that day arrives. It may be they are the only things that will save you in that moment.

12.    Some people are not your friends. Period. Each of us probably has only a small set of people who are true friends. All the others are mere friendly acquaintances. Your true friends will show their mettle by being with you in your struggles and adversity, and not just in your successes. That is the crucible. Heed it!

13.    If you want to keep a confidence, then don't tell *anyone* - not even someone you trust. They also trust someone else, who trusts someone else. Before you know it, 42 people know the confidence you promised to keep. Your word is your bond. Learn to keep your lips ZIPPED. Anything else is ego and foolishness - an attempt to show off what you know. Honor and integrity show better.

14.    Be the friend you want to have, the person you would admire, the hero to whom you would look. Be that person, and you will find yourself in the company of like people.

15.    Life isn't fair and no one owes you a living. Get over it and get busy.

16.    The past is done. Get over that, too. Use what you learned from it, but don't drag it around behind you like worn out luggage. It's heavy and it looks bad.

17.    If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all (Grandma hammered this one home!). When you do open your mouth, be honest - not cruel, rude, or tactless - just honest. Sometimes saying nothing is the only way to be honest without cruelty or rudeness - take heed of that. BTW, this means no lies and/or gossip. Got it?

18.    Don't procrastinate. Get off your rear parts and do it now! Here's Grandma again: "make hay while the sun shines." In other words, later might be too late. It could be raining - you can't make hay then. Do it NOW!

19.    Life is short - remember that in dealing with family, friends - everybody and everything.

20.    Life is long - remember that in dealing with family friends - everybody and everything.

21.    Smile whether you feel like it or not. After a few seconds, you begin to feel it more, and then you ARE smiling - and other people will be, too. You have now started a chain reaction of epic positive proportions; and you have turned your OWN day around.

22.    Everyone has crap days. It will pass. Gut up. Get through it. See #21 above. The only difference between winners and losers is that winners get up when they fall down - and they keep getting up. Every time. Without fail. So, get up already!

I need to tattoo most of these on my forehead, except I don't think I have room. :) So, I'll just read it here and keep reminding myself.

It isn't easy (on the front end) to live this way. It's easier to lie down, wallow in things, give into base behavior, and go nowhere and achieve nothing. Unfortunately, the back end of that is - well, it's the back end of *something*!

It's also lonely, miserable and ultimately the most difficult path a person can choose.

So, I plan to do my best to remember these things, because hard work on the front end brings great rewards down the road.

Polla filia,
J.F.

LONELY LANDSCAPE - REDUX

[This was a post I did right after some research on a key crime scene in the manuscript I just completed. There is now a lot of water in all these dry spots in the photos below, but our years-long drought played perfectly into the plot of the story I was telling.]

The other day I took a trip out to one of the "crime scenes" from the manuscript on which I'm currently working. There was a surprise in the trip for me in that I did not expect to see so much lonely landscape still in existence so close to where I live.

First I think I should clarify to all the non-Texans reading this:  Texas is not all flat terrain with tumbleweeds rolling across the road. In fact, I was an adult before I ever saw such a landscape in this State and I was born here.

Texas is a big place with a "transitional" geography:  plains, desert, mountains, piney woods, hill country and coastal plains all exist within this State, and all of those areas abut our Central Texas hill country. Texas is roughly 830 miles west to east and roughly 850 miles north to south. Big place. Lots of different terrain here.

To the west are very flat lands with the tumbleweed you would expect. That moves on further west into the southernmost part of the Rocky Mountains.

To our east are piney woods - thick (think Louisiana). To our south are the coastal plains and sub-tropical areas along the Gulf of Mexico. To our north are the tail end of the Great Plains, but these are not completely flat and they are cut by rivers and covered with grasses and trees - no desert or tumbleweeds in any of these places.

Austin and the surrounding Central Texas area is a beautiful landscape of rolling tree-covered hills, rivers, lakes and generally breathtaking views. There are limestone washes along some of the rivers and steep limestone cliffs that speak of a time when this area was a shallow sea bed (Cretaceous period). It's reminiscent of certain landscapes along the Med in Italy and Greece. My paternal grandfather (a Greek from the old country) said that was why he settled here. It reminded him of home.

I had lamented for some time (including on this blog) that there was so much development here in Central Texas "they" were destroying all of our natural spaces. I'm happy to report I was wrong.

My journey was to the north shore of Lake Travis.

I had resisted going back out there and exploring because I knew there had been a development that sprang up in this one location and I was afraid I was going to see high-end houses all along the lake front and none of the beautiful natural space I so loved.

That's not what I found. Thank God.

There were miles of lonely space - natural landscape. The housing development I knew of hadn't progressed beyond what I had seen several years ago - and not just because of the economy. Along the north shore of Lake Travis, there is also a limit to the types of utilities we have in town and near town. Most people who live out there depend on propane for gas, electricity is sparse in some locations, and water is frequently provided by drilling wells, waste water is disposed of in septic tanks. With a drought on, the water table is down and many wells have run dry. This probably curtailed some of the development out there. Also, the sheer near empty appearance of our lake is probably also part of the deterrent to development.

Through a navigation mistake of mine - well, not really a "mistake" - I admit I like to "wander" with the car while driving through the hill country - anyway, I found this certain lakeside park, a certain Travis County park. I didn't know it was there.

Along the road on my way down to this park and in the park itself, it was utterly deserted. There was no park ranger there because the boat ramp had been closed - again, a result of our drought. It's not possible to launch a boat onto a limestone wash. You really need water for that. :)

There is a beauty to this kind of lonely space to me. I've included some photos below to give you an idea of the desolation of the place.

It's cold here right now, and this weekend with the front that came through it was also quite breezy. The wintry cold added to the feeling of isolation.

I walked along deeply rutted and graveled roads in the park and along the cove that cut from the lake alongside the park itself. Limestone washes ran up to the water's edge - washes that had been covered by water in a better time a few years ago. Wheat-colored grasses covered the damp earth from the rain we just had last week. Cedars and live oaks made a dense cover between the gravel roads.  It was silent as the grave out there. The only sound was the bitter breeze that blew off the water that day.

All of sudden, the roaring of a large pickup echoed up the now-closed boat ramp. It blasted, with heavy-duty shocks and mud tires, up over the lip of the ramp and into the parking lot of the park. A man inside "whooped" through his open window. He was followed by another truck, just as large and outfitted the same way - this one driven by a girl with a large black Lab hanging out of the window of her double cab. She laughed and waved as she passed and they sped across the parking lot and then off deeper into the park. I saw them later, parked way down on the wash nearest the lake itself.

Other than that one sign of human life, the place was utterly deserted. I thought if those had been "bad" people I would have been in some deep trouble. There was no "civilization" for miles. No park ranger on duty. I had my cell phone, but who would reach me in time if I needed help from someone dangerous?

Then I knew - what a great location for a crime scene!!! Woo-hoo! :) It was perfect - complete with dumpster for a convenient body dump. Yes, people, I write crime novels and this was a crime novelist's dream.

In my book I will locate the park in a slightly different spot on the river/lake, and I'll give it another name; but, it will essentially "be" that place I visited this past weekend. I will go back again soon for more notes and photos.

There is a paradox between beautiful desolation and dangerous isolation, and I love to study that and write in that place. I hope to transport you there so you can enjoy it and be thrilled by it as much as I am.

Writing is, for me, all about sharing the experience - whatever that experience may be.

Polla filia,
J.F.

The Parking Lot

The now closed boat ramp-treeline is where the water used to be

One of the roads in the park

Another park road

The "woods" around and in the park

  

A deserted picnic area

The "dump site"

 

MERCY TO LIGHT THE DARKNESS

I wept out loud when I read this (see the link at "Final Chapter" below).

I have been following this case several years - since before the killer died (earlier this week). It was a notorious and tragic story, and being a crime fiction writer I had read about it and kept certain articles from NYT because things like this inform my work.

Then this week the obit came for the killer of the poor girl.

Now, today, the open letter from her brother on the death of her killer.

We should all be this good, this compassionate, this wise.

I pray for such a man who lost so much, and somehow manages to maintain his integrity and sense of mercy. Now I also pray for the soul of Kitty’s killer, Winston, and for his family.

Truly William Genovese’s mother was good. May her memory, Kitty’s and Winston’s be eternal, and may her good brother have many, many years. God bless him.


The Final Chapter

 

THE NORTH STAR

Today is the anniversary of the day I lost my North Star -
My Daddy, who was my bright light;
In whose footsteps I have endeavored to follow;
To whom I looked for guidance.

So many years ago today he went to the other side of life.
The Angels would not wait any longer for him to be there.

Now I can only trace the path of that North Star -
Looking upward and seeing the trail it left for me to follow.

I love you, Daddy!

May his memory be eternal!

Polla Filia,
J. F.

DAVE GROHL, THE FOO FIGHTERS, SONIC HIGHWAYS AND THE DREAMWORLD WAVE

"What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."
     - Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Dare to dream big dreams. You're worthy of greatness. You're capable of greatness."
     - Ralph Marston
                   
"Save some time to dream, 'cause your dream might save us all."
     - John Mellencamp

A few facts before we "paddle out" to our wave.

First, the great songwriters and performers Dave Grohl and the other members of the Foo Fighters, have a special series on HBO that has been fantastic. If you aren't watching it, then I encourage you to find it and start watching. It's  a great exploration of the American Musical Landscape. It's called "Sonic Highways".

Each episode is a journey by Dave and the Foo Fighters in a great American musical city. A few weeks ago they did an episode on my home town of Austin, Texas. I was a bit afraid the true spirit of the City might not come through, but I think they did an amazing job. I loved it.

The thing is, it was the episode on Nashville that most surprised me. I honestly expected to be lukewarm about it. My expectations couldn't have been further from the experience I had with them there. We'll get to more on that in a moment.

The next bit of information you need to understand is that I do not drink much or often (in spite of all my talk about wine, beer and scotch). My talk is largely jest. I am also the anti-drug and always have been - lest anyone think I was drunk, or otherwise intoxicated during this, or any similar experience.

Yet, I have a euphoric creative experience from time to time that feels as if I'm under the influence of something - it's a real high, a strong euphoria. I can stoke it myself, or it can come to me unbidden, and unexpected.

My metaphor for that experience is the title of this blog - the Dreamworld Wave. What is paradoxical about this metaphor is that I have a severe phobia of deep water. It takes all I have, and a lot of specific prep, for me to get on a boat and go out on an enclosed, or semi-enclosed body of water - like Lake Travis near where I live, or San Francisco Bay. I do not go swimming (I can swim, and swim well in water where I can stand, but why bother?). I would never go out on a boat on the ocean.

Yeah.

It's that bad - and I've had help with it or I couldn't get on a ferry in San Francisco or a boat in our own Lake Travis.

Yet, my metaphor for my euphoric creative experience is surfing a big wave. Even the psycho-analysis of that paradox leads to a Dreamworld Wave. :)

We're about to paddle out and hop on another wave. Hang on and hang a Writer's Ten with me.

I enjoyed Mr. Grohl and the Foo Fighters before this "Sonic Highways" series, but the series really woke me up to just how talented they all are, and expanded my admiration of them as wonderful songwriters.

In each city on the series, they explore its musical history and some of its most notable musicians - living and departed. The living are interviewed and contribute various stories during the episode, which also includes archival photos and wonderful clips of performances by many great musicians who perform in the genre of the subject city. During this week-long stay in each location, Dave is collecting bits of information which will inform the lyrics he will write for the song in that city. The song is performed at the end of the episode.

I found myself spellbound during the Nashville episode, as I did not expect to be. Then at the end the Foo Fighters queued up the song they had written - a song called "Congregation". As lyrics from the song flashed across the screen in white hand lettering, the culmination of the episode was clear. Mr. Grohl, in his brilliance as a lyricist, had created with the other members of the Foo Fighters a cohesive musical work that encapsulated all of the crucial bits of the interviews, performances, occurrences and other input from their week in Nashville. Their discovery.

I found myself mesmerized and then more. Immersed in the creative inspiration from all those great musicians, and letting it wash over me, I began to open my mind.

Paddling out as all of this unfolded I am unaware of any building wave. I'm not even thinking of my paddling, much less of a Dreamworld Wave. The song ends and as the last chord fades, cut to:

black screen with white titles.

The episode is over.

Wow.

I say it out loud and freeze the DVR.

Sitting there in silence a moment, and then...

I realize the wave is building behind me and I jump on as it crests. The wave curls and I ride the tube as long as I can until the wave crashes and me with it. I tumble under the water of all the ideas in my mind and right myself, to come to the surface with my head full of solutions to a story I had been working on for a future book.

I grab a piece of paper and begin making notes furiously - the euphoria hanging on as I solve one of the major problems with that work. It is a game changer.

Break. Through.

Fear-facing Wave Beauty.

Metaphorical, yet real Euphoria.

You can ride a Dreamworld Wave. All you have to do is paddle out and hop on. It's about letting go of all the stuff on your mind, immersing yourself in something brilliant and creative - like the music of the Foo Fighters on their Sonic Highways journey. Then as you drift along with that incredible music - or whatever great creative thing you choose, you can catch that wave - the "wave" of something that you love, something for which you have a true passion. Let it take you to a place where your mind leaves the stresses of everyday life and embraces the joy of the moment - the joy of something that has real meaning for you.

Embrace your dreams and go with them. Ride the Dreamworld Wave!

Polla Filia,
J.F.

P.S. - I highly recommend the Foo Fighters new album "Sonic Highways" which you can download or buy in CD or vinyl from your favorite retailer. In any event, you need to hear the song "Congregation".

HOMAGE TO ROBIN WILLIAMS

"What is life? It is the flash of the firefly in the night. It is the breath of the buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset."
-- Crowfoot 

I'm gutted. The funniest man ever is gone.

Some years ago when Mom was dying from something really awful, I came home after a particularly crap day - the kind where you sit down & cry because you can’t do anything but that.

You wonder how you're going to sleep, or anything else.

A while later I turned on TV and there was Bravo's "Inside the Actor's Studio", and you know who was on?

Robin Williams - that's who.

He proceeded to save my day and night with hilarity. It was one of his funniest and most amazing comedy performances I had ever seen, which is saying a lot, because the man was genius-level funny.

He did more than turn that one day around for me. He lifted me up to a brighter place than I had been in months. My mother didn’t have many weeks left at that point. He rescued me in a really bad time.

Luckily, the DVR was recording that episode and I saved it. From then on, I knew if I was in a real pit of a dark day, I only needed to turn on that episode of “Inside the Actor’s Studio” and it would be as fresh and funny as it was the first time I saw it.

I am stunned with disbelief that he is gone.

My prayers go out for all his family and friends.

He was brilliant and he did so much good for so many.

Thank you, Mr. Williams! We will miss you forever. We loved you so much!

Robin Williams has gone to the other side of life. May his memory be eternal.

Polla Filia,
J.F.

GRATITUDE

Every day I remind myself of all that I have been given.
    - - Luciano Pavarotti

This is something I scribbled on a note pad one cold morning at the beginning of March, when Winter's persistence was wearing on me, and I was aching for Spring.

Just some girl struggling with her dreams on a cold, early morning - tired from the struggle.

Then thanking God for everything as she makes her coffee, stretches to wake up, and pats the kitty on his head.

Thanking God for that kitty, the house, the yard, the birds, the trees. Thanking God for every little thing, even if it might seem insignificant - the list expanding to smaller and smaller things - a litany of thanks.

Then thanking God for the old heater that still runs and is warming her house and herself - and thanking Henry and Luke for fixing the heater and keeping it going - not realizing they were supporting some girl struggling with too many cold mornings - and her dreams.

Then thanking God for the dreams, and the struggle, because it makes it all better, stronger, more worthwhile - and because it makes her grateful.

Polla Filia,
J.F.

HOMAGE TO STEINBECK ON THE OCCASION OF HIS BIRTHDAY

"In utter loneliness a writer tries to explain the inexplicable."

"The profession of book-writing makes horse-racing seem like a solid, stable business."

"Unless a reviewer has the courage to give you unqualified praise, I say ignore the bastard."

    - John Steinbeck

In honor of Mr. Steinbeck, and for the edification of us all, here is his 1962 Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech. Enjoy!

Nobel Prize acceptance speech (1962)

Speech at the Nobel Banquet (10 December 1962)

"In my heart there may be doubt that I deserve the Nobel award over other men of letters whom I hold in respect and reverence — but there is no question of my pleasure and pride in having it for myself.

"It is customary for the recipient of this award to offer personal or scholarly comment on the nature and the direction of literature. At this particular time, however, I think it would be well to consider the high duties and the responsibilities of the makers of literature.

"Such is the prestige of the Nobel award and of this place where I stand that I am impelled, not to squeak like a grateful and apologetic mouse, but to roar like a lion out of pride in my profession and in the great and good men who have practiced it through the ages.

"Literature was not promulgated by a pale and emasculated critical priesthood singing their litanies in empty churches — nor is it a game for the cloistered elect, the tinhorn mendicants of low calorie despair.

"Literature is as old as speech. It grew out of human need for it, and it has not changed except to become more needed.

"The skalds, the bards, the writers are not separate and exclusive. From the beginning, their functions, their duties, their responsibilities have been decreed by our species.

"Humanity has been passing through a gray and desolate time of confusion. My great predecessor, William Faulkner, speaking here, referred to it as a tragedy of universal fear so long sustained that there were no longer problems of the spirit, so that only the human heart in conflict with itself seemed worth writing about.

"Faulkner, more than most men, was aware of human strength as well as of human weakness. He knew that the understanding and the resolution of fear are a large part of the writer's reason for being.

"This is not new. The ancient commission of the writer has not changed. He is charged with exposing our many grievous faults and failures, with dredging up to the light our dark and dangerous dreams for the purpose of improvement.

"The writer is delegated to declare and to celebrate man's proven capacity for greatness of heart and spirit — for gallantry in defeat — for courage, compassion and love. In the endless war against weakness and despair, these are the bright rally-flags of hope and of emulation.

"I hold that a writer who does not passionately believe in the perfectibility of man, has no dedication nor any membership in literature.

"With humanity's long proud history of standing firm against natural enemies, sometimes in the face of almost certain defeat and extinction, we would be cowardly and stupid to leave the field on the eve of our greatest potential victory.

"We have usurped many of the powers we once ascribed to God.

"Fearful and unprepared, we have assumed lordship over the life or death of the whole world — of all living things.

"The danger and the glory and the choice rest finally in man. The test of his perfectibility is at hand.

"Having taken Godlike power, we must seek in ourselves for the responsibility and the wisdom we once prayed some deity might have.

"Man himself has become our greatest hazard and our only hope.

"So that today, St. John the apostle may well be paraphrased: In the end is the Word, and the Word is Man — and the Word is with Men." - John Steinbeck

Happy birthday, sir!

Polla filia,
J.F.

THE ONLY WAY TO FAIL

I’ve been reading some interesting information lately - some of it on fitness and some on writing, but the same theme has been coming through. I would sum up this theme as this:

The only way to fail is to give up, to quit. As long as you don’t quit, you have not failed.

Think about that.
                                   
You’re working on a manuscript, you get discouraged at some point along the way. We all do - this is normal. It’s part of the struggle. Instead of working through that difficult period (which may include days of doing nothing but moaning and pacing) - instead of working through it, you say “Screw it, I’m not finishing this manuscript.” You throw the printout in the trash and delete the files from your computer.

There will be no book now, because you have elected not to continue. Furthermore, you may have quit right before your big break through - your “AHA” moment. What if, only a few days after that you had the “aha” moment and went furiously back to work on that manuscript and wrote a bestseller!

No bestseller, though, because you didn’t wait it out and go back to work on it. You quit.

You have just FAILED.

Yep. You did.

Failure is easy on the front end. You give up and that’s it. No effort required.

Except it’s not easy - because that failure will follow you around all the length of your days. It will kick you in your backside FOREVER.

It’s like a workout program. You workout and “try” to eat right for months and one day you get on the scale and it’s been weeks since you lost a single pound. You throw in the towel and say “I’m not doing this anymore” and you go back to eating three-cheese pizzas at 10:00 at night.

You failed. Not because you didn’t lose weight for weeks, but because you gave up.

That lack of weight loss was just FEEDBACK. The feedback doesn’t constitute failure. The feedback is data -information. It’s information you can use - that is, if you don’t give up.

While you struggle through that manuscript (or whatever goal you’re pursuing) you will suffer (just as you will with weeks of no weight loss on your fitness campaign), but if you look at that data you can instead ask yourself:

“What is this telling me? What can I learn from this?”

There is always something to learn from an experience, be it bad or good. So, look at the feedback and find the positive takeaway from it. It’s there.

Don’t give up. Don’t quit.

As long as you keep going, keep learning, keep working on your goal, whatever it may be, no matter how slow the progress, you have not failed.

When you persevere, YOU ARE A SUCCESS!!

Polla filia,
J.F.

FEAR AND DOUBT

Quick post, but very important. Heed it.

Doubt is fear.

Fear is the dream killer.
       
The Dream is your Purpose.

You must fulfill your Purpose.

Fear and doubt exist only in your mind.

Fill your mind with other things!

Dream on, people! Never give up on your dreams!

Polla filia,
J.F.

NINE DAYS IN DREAMWORLD

I work two jobs. A lot of people might not consider writing to be a job, but trust me it’s a job. I’ve talked about the work of writing on this blog before; but recently I had a bit of a revelation.

Here it is: I work really hard and I seem to have gotten so used to it that I’ve turned “resting” into a reason to self-flagellate. Somehow I’ve convinced myself that working two jobs, only making time for eating, working out and sleeping before going back to work again - somehow that isn’t working that hard.

Here’s what I mean.

Writing is work - hours of research, note-taking, plotting, planning, structuring, banging keys on a computer keyboard, then reading what you wrote and revising and revising and revising.

Meanwhile, I don’t make enough money (yet) writing to pay the mortgage, so I have that pesky “day job” thing (much talked about here on this blog). I groan at the thought of it. It’s a brain drain, too, because my day job is what most people would think of as a career. It’s intense and involves a high level of responsibility.

I live for the times when I can take some of my earned vacation time from the day job and spend whole days writing. One of those times is coming up for me. I have taken 4 days of vaca after Memorial Day so I can maximize my time off. Friday (when this thing will post) is my last day in the “office” until June 3rd.

I have nine days - count ‘em - 9 whole days - NINE - wherein I can write every single day without the brain drain/interference of the damn day job! Hallelujah and amen!!

Joy. Ecstasy. Euphoria.

Dreamworld.

So, the other day while lamenting to someone about how tired I was I suddenly realized something.

I realized that if I take some measly amount of time (like 2 hours) to do something in my “free time” (after the day job day has ended) - oh, such as reading a book that isn’t for research, or driving down to the Starbucks to get a frappuccino, or anything that isn’t directly associated with my writing - if I do anything like THAT, I start hearing that tape in my head that says “you’re lazy” “you’re not getting the work done” “you talk about being a writer, but you’re not writing right now” “this is why the book isn’t finished yet” “are you ever going to finish that thing?”

Yeah. I have tapes that play like that - some mean-looking chick who resembles Cruella DeVil sitting on my shoulder griping in my ear. I now refer to her as “Tape Lady”.

People, here’s why I’m tired.

Most people have a job that takes approximately 8 hours of their day - or so - and then they spend time with their family or friends, or watch TV or a movie, go to dinner or something that involves society with other people. Hell, some people do something called “relaxing”.

???

While they are doing that I spend the rest of my waking day writing, or working on something directly related to my writing (or listening to Tape Lady). A lot of writers work like this (most of them actually), but maybe they have someone in their house to buck them up and stop their version of the Tape Lady. I don’t.

I work this much, and this hard because I don’t want to do the day job anymore (not a new sentiment). I want to write full time, and if that ever happens, it won’t happen while I watch TV, or read someone else’s books, or go to dinner with family and friends.

I know that the sooner I get this first draft done, the sooner I can start revisions, and the sooner I can start those, the sooner I can finish this book and make it great, and the sooner I can do that - well, I might just finally reach my Dreamworld for real.

So, I push.

Then I wonder why in hell I’m so tired.

That mystery is now solved, and I have told the obnoxious Tape Lady to STFU. I’m working hard enough, thank you. If I want to take a break to read or go get a frappuccino, or just drive aimlessly around the lake, then Tape Lady can go jump.

The creative brain doesn’t work without the occasional recharge.

Meanwhile, day after tomorrow I get to have 9 whole days to write, and even though I will be working, I will only be working ONE JOB - my Dream Job.

I will be working that one job while burning earned vacation days from my other job; but...

Working only one job - and having that one job be my writing?

Now THAT is a freaking vacation!!

Tonight I’m going to bed earlier than usual (before 1:00 a.m) - after I stuff a sock in Tape Lady’s mouth. Then I’m working tomorrow in the day job and after that I’m taking the phone off the hook for nine days.

I’m sure my dreams tonight will be filled with the upcoming nine days of writing bliss. Then maybe someday it won’t be just nine days. Maybe someday it will be full-time all the time in Dreamworld - with time off for goofing off with family and friends.

I hope my dreams come true, and I’m working to make that happen.

I hope all your dreams come true, too - and I hope they last for more than nine days.

Polla filia,
J. F.

THE LAST CHRISTMAS

It's Christmastime which makes me think of Daddy.

The other day one of my sisters called and told me that she and her kids had gone out and bought a real Christmas tree. Hallelujah and Amen!

You see, for years they had been using an artificial one. Now, if you have an artificial tree, please don't take offense, but me - I'm a real tree kind of a gal. She was so happy about it, and it smelled so good, and the kids had so much fun at the tree lot helping to pick it out - and all the things which I, too, cherish about a real Christmas tree.

Then we began to reminisce about Daddy and how he used to go with us to the tree lot. Daddy was very particular about picking out the tree. We would take it home and Daddy would make a fresh cut on the bottom and put it in the stand and make sure the water was done just right. Then we decorated that thing with lights and ornaments and tinsel - the works. It was a blast. It was a blast because it was a family activity. We were together.

Then I said "Remember that last Christmas we had? Remember that tree?" Which led to more reminisces and the two of us crying on the phone.

The three of us girls were all moved out of the house and living on our own. I had moved to Dallas and was working in The Big Law Firm. I used to drive home (Austin) from time to time and visit (it's 200 miles and it's The Most Boring Drive in Texas). I drove home every year for Thanksgiving, and then I would come home again for about 3 days at Christmas.

Mama got some hare brained idea that she didn't need to get a big tree and do Christmas with the same flourish anymore (because we girls weren't living at home anymore). Don't know how she came across this idea, but I never liked it. I rolled with it because I didn't live there and she was the one doing the decorating. She started buying these "table top" trees. They were real trees, but they were dinky. It just didn't have the wonder and majesty of our childhood trees.

Mostly, though, there was no family decorating going on. It was just this little tree where she hung some of those lifeless, meaningless, satin colored balls on it. That was it. No lights. The tree ceremony (family time) wasn't there.

One year, not too long after the "table top" tree era began, I had all I could stand and I insisted to my mother that we have a big tree, decorate it with all the lights and ornaments and put up all the other decorations, too. I said I would help with the putting up and the taking down. She wasn't too game for this suggestion. I pushed. My two sisters gave their second and third to the motion, and at last, it carried.

So at Thanksgiving time, we went to the tree lot, Daddy helped us pick it out and put it up. Three of our cousins popped in that night because they were in town, and their mother (my Dad's sister) wanted to drop something by the house. So, there we all were, Mom, Dad, me and my two sisters, my aunt and three cousins. We were all decorating the tree, drinking apple cider and hot chocolate, laughing and talking. It was awesome!

I came back at Christmas and it was so great to see that tree there, and all the other decorations. We were having one of the best Christmases we had in a long time. It wasn't just the tree, of course, it was what putting up that tree had represented for us - our Christmas spirit and the joy of all that wonderful Family Time.

On Christmas day, we opened presents, and later in the day I drove us all down to San Antonio and we went to this cool old historic place in Castroville, and then drove around some more and back to Austin. Daddy loved that driving tour. My grandfather had lived in San Antonio at the end of his life (there were more Greeks down there), and so the driving tour was filled with Daddy's memories of things Granpa said and did.

The day after Christmas I stood in the driveway getting ready to drive back to Big D. I had to be back at work in the sweat shop (that's just law firm life). Daddy asked when I would be back next. I told him maybe in January, but definitely for his birthday (mid-February). He said okay.

He said, with a big smile "Well, it sure was fun!" He'd had a great Christmas, and so had we all. I gave him a big hug and said "It was fun, Daddy." Then I said, "I'll see you next time."

We waved at each other, and I drove away.

Three weeks later my father got out of the shower, had a massive heart attack and died.

That great Christmas was my last Christmas with him.

More importantly, it was his last Christmas - ever.

Thank God we had made it so special. Thank God I was there. Thank God I had that time with him.

Thank God I have no regrets - because you can never unring those bells.

My Grandfather was a Greek from the old country and he said "Family is number one."

My friends, family is everything.

For me, the day after Christmas is always the last day I ever saw my Dad in person. I remember it in a special way every year. I remember what I said to him before I drove away.

"I'll see you next time."

And I will - someday.
                                               
Have a great Family Christmas like it's the last one you'll ever have. Make Christmas like that every year. Hug every single member of your family, because we only have now. We only have today. You don't know when "next time" will be.

Merry Christmas!!!

Polla filia,
J.F.

SYSIPHUS, ENERGY AND THE DREAM

You can have anything you want if you want it badly enough. You can be anything you want to be, do anything you set out to accomplish, if you hold to that desire with singleness of purpose.
 -- President Abraham Lincoln


I have written many times on this blog how damn hard it is for most writers to make a living and write. Most of us are making a living with a "day job" and writing in our "free time" (yeah, what the hell is free time?). **grumble**

The goal (of course) is to eventually, FINALLY make enough money to jettison the day job and live in the bliss of this writing gig forever and ever, Amen.

That's the Dream.

My day job is intense. It's a high-responsibility job, dealing with serious matters that require all my brain cells to be on it! The hours are not cookie cutter either. If the work isn't finished in 8 - too bad. There are deadlines that must be met and you meet them - period.

So, at nights after I've met all the deadlines for that day, I write. On the weekends, I write. In my sleep I'm probably writing in my subconscious.

When I wake up in the morning it takes everything I have within myself to fire myself up again.

One. More. Time.

Feet swing out of the bed and meet the floor. I take a good deep breath. I say a prayer. Then I will myself to stand and MOVE!

I squeeze in a workout early and then I get the day job done and do it well (after all, it is *my* reputation on the line, irrespective of the fact that it's a "day job").

Then, there's a brief - very brief - break for dinner and I dig in to the writing for whatever evening I have left. At the end of that evening I have to somehow shut all that off and find some sleep - maybe.

Gearing up for that again and again, day after day can be challenging.

No breaks. An occasional dinner with a friend and then back home to write. Run an errand and come home to write. Vacations? Writing time without interference. Holidays? More writing time without interference.

I'm pushing this Dream up a hill as if it were a giant rock and I am Sysiphus; but, unlike Sysiphus I am not letting go of the damn ball so it'll roll back down again. I'm holding onto it for dear life, pushing with all I'm worth until I'm exhausted.

Then I push a little more.

My goal is to get it to the top and plant that sucker.

I stoke up prayers to my Creator on a daily basis. I like to keep that line as open as possible, so He will keep sending all those good vibes my way. Today I was drag-ass tired (as if that were a new occurrence with this sked).

I prayed for one thing this morning, and one thing only. I said "Lord, just give me the energy I need to attack this day and I'll do all the rest. Just jump start me, please. That's all I ask."

I'm back to pushing the rock. I have enough juice now for what's left of this day. I'll keep pushing until I see The Dream in all of its dimensions, proportions, lines, angles, textures, light and colors.

Then I'll pray for just a bit of energy and I'll push a little more. :)

I am relentless in my pursuit of this Dream. Sysiphus ain't got nothin' on me.

Polla filia,
J.F.

A STORY OF PIES

This is a story of pies - Thanksgiving pies. For the love of  Gluten, who doesn't like pie?

I love pies, and I committed to baking two of them for the family Thanksgiving feast.

I am a Queen of Pie Crust, but this time I decided to try out a "new" pie crust recipe that involved two things I had never used on pie crust before:  my food processor (always made pie dough by hand with a pastry cutter); and vodka.

Yes, friends, I said "vodka"!

Apparently, water binds the floury bits and the fatty bits, but it can cause the crust to be tough when that gluten stuff forms. I had always solved this problem by making certain I didn't "work" the dough too much.

According to this new recipe I found, you can also solve this problem by making half the moisture (2 tblsps) vodka. The vodka is 60% water which will help bind the ingredients, but it's also 40% ethanol which burns off during cooking - and of course, it's virtually flavorless and colorless. The ethanol part is the part that keeps all that gluten-ey stuff from toughening up.

Hey, I was game, so I tried it.

I'm here to report that the dough was tasty and tender. I'll let you know tomorrow (after we cut and eat the pie) if it was also flaky and good after cooking.

If they taste as good as they look, I think we're in for a treat. :9

Here's what we have:  1) apple pie filing, then with the top crust on, then the finished product; and 2) cherry pie filling, then with the top crust on, then the finished product. That stuff on top is cinnamon/sugar sprinkled on when they came out of the oven all piping hot. Yum!

Now on this happy note, I wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving!!

Polla Filia,
J.F.

THE QUINTUPLE WHAMMY OF ALCOHOL

Yeah, there are the calories:  worse for mixed drinks than for beer, or whisky, or wine. So, from a straight calorie perspective choosing from one of those three categories with no mixers is the best choice.

Unfortunately, no matter the choice, here is what one drink can do for you for 48 hours:

•    Increases your output of cortisol (this is the infamous "stress" hormone), which, among other things, encourages belly fat and decreases your body's production of testosterone. This is bad for both men and women, because, while the male gender requires more testosterone, both genders require it for libido and lean muscle tissue growth. Bummer on the low sex drive combined with flab.

•    Increases your body's fat storage rate.

•    Decreases your body's overall metabolic rate - the Resting Metabolic Rate, or RMR.

•    Decreases your body's fat burn rate.

•    Increases your appetite - because when you're taking in more calories, burning fewer calories, burning less fat and storing more fat, this is what you want - more food.

Does this mean you shouldn't drink? NO.

I drink, and I enjoy it, thank you very much. I am a huge fan of beer and ale (none of the "lite" crap for me, thank you), great wine and neat scotch. So, no, the above is not here to lecture anyone or tell you not to drink.

I write the above because you and I should know these things if we are in weight loss mode, so we make informed decisions about our alcohol consumption, and we can avoid alcohol when we want to accelerate our ability to carve off the pounds.

It also means that armed with knowledge, we can select a better alternative off the drinks menu, and drink in moderation at times so we can better maintain our fitness goals.

Yes, wine is supposed to have some benefit for our hearts, and beer has some nutritional benefits, too; but, all of this information needs to be taken together to achieve whatever goals we each have for our fitness and nutrition. No one thing is an absolute to be applied without balance.

Knowledge is power, people!!

Polla filia,
J.F.

ROUTE 66 AND THE EPIC GRAND CANYON ROAD TRIP OR HOW I CAME TO SPEND THE NIGHT AT THE SOUTH RIM WITH SAFEWAY GROCERY BAGS FOR LUGGAGE

Route 66
Lyrics by Bobby Troup

If you ever plan to motor west,
Travel my way, take the highway that is best.
Get your kicks on Route 66.

It winds from Chicago to LA,
More than two thousand miles all the way.
Get your kicks on Route 66.

Now you go through Saint Looey
Joplin, Missouri,
And Oklahoma City is mighty pretty.
You see Amarillo,
Gallup, New Mexico,
Flagstaff, Arizona.
Don't forget Winona,
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernandino.

Won't you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that California trip
Get your kicks on Route 66.

Won't you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that California trip
Get your kicks on Route 66.
Get your kicks on Route 66.
Get your kicks on Route 66.

Daddy always played and liked that song and I didn't get it. That's because when I was a kid and he was playing it, I didn't know about Route 66 - now I do. I not only know of its history because I read about it - now I know part of it first hand.

Somewhere today I saw someone mention driving a Mustang down the epic Route 66, and I thought "I've done that." Not the entirety of Route 66, but a portion of its heart. In fact, it was only a few years ago when I did that.

I began to think about that trip. It was a crazy, spur-of-the-moment, Maverick kinda thing I would do. :) I could blame my Texan-ness on those "Maverick" tendencies I have, but I come by them honestly from my Dad, Louie.

Either one of my two sisters would have been game for this hare-brained last-minute idea (as they share that "Louie" DNA), but, as it was, my sister Carol was the one who was with me.

We were in the middle of freaking nowhere for a good deal of the trip, and some would think two girls alone in the desert driving bat-out-of-Hell style from Vegas to the Grand Canyon is risky - a little too much "Thelma and Louise". Maybe it was, but I don't think so. We had a blast.

In this case, The Middle of Freaking Nowhere began in what is officially referred to as the "Mt. Wilson Wilderness Area". Aptly named, if you ask me. It's a "wilderness" alright.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. This story actually begins with Las Vegas.

I had just sold my first book for publication and I had a little extra money - very little. :) Anyway, I was supposed to go to a writing conference in Vegas, and I was also going to have a meeting with my agent there. I asked my sister, Carol, to go with me because she had never been to Vegas.

So off we went via American Airlines to Las Vegas where we found ourselves driving up the strip in my rented red Mustang hard top. It had some forward motion to it - just a little bit. The sound of an engine like that makes my foot suddenly become heavier. :)

On Friday, things with the conference were not yet in full swing, so we had decided to take a little trip down to Hoover Dam just to see the historic monolith. Off we went. It was very interesting and imposing. Wow! If you ever get a chance, check it out.

During the tour, etc., I got a burr under my saddle (as we say in Texas) and started thinking how fun it would be to see the Grand Canyon. I had a map, and I was familiar enough with the territory to get there (so I thought). I had a rental car that moved and an itchy "trigger" foot. :) It seemed a shame not to exercise both.

It was 2:00 in the afternoon. I was thinking this trip was about 175 miles and with all the lead out of it, about 2-1/2 hours. We could watch the sunset over the Canyon, grab a bite to eat on the way back and be back in Vegas in the nighttime. So I thought.

Well friends, from Hoover Dam it is 241 miles to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, and no matter my speed, it's still about a 4 hour trip. This was October and I was driving against the setting sun. So, my calculations on distance and time were wrong and I had not taken into consideration the fact that I would be driving east.

Of course my sister totally agreed to the trip. We hopped in my rented car, crossed the Hoover Dam (very narrow two-lane road, usually loaded with tourist traffic and it takes a bit to get all the way across). Once across we were officially in Arizona. We plowed down US Highway 93. That bad boy opens up into the aforementioned Mt. Wilson Wilderness Area a/k/a "The Middle of Freaking Nowhere".

You see nothing for miles and miles, and when I say "nothing" I really mean NOTHING. There are no gas stations, no roadside stops, no other merging highways. You look to the right of the highway and there are miles of flat, brown, dusty landscape and a big row of mountains. You look to the left of the highway and there are miles of flat, brown, dusty landscape and a big row of mountains. You look straight ahead and there are miles of flat, brown, dusty landscape and an open road.

Maybe, if you're lucky, off to the side, you'll see some lone, random mobile home waaaayyyyyy in the distance at the end of a narrow, rutted, dirt road.

Maybe.

If you're lucky.

You lose cell service out there shortly after you leave the Hoover Dam area. You pick it up again about 30minutes later. How many miles were we without cell service? Well, I don't know. I only know the minutes, not the miles.

You see that whole "open road" thing makes my foot start feeling that extreme heaviness again, and then there's the Mustang hard top... let's just say this girl was pedal to the metal. Did I mention that the middle of nowhere also has nearly zero traffic and no cops?
                           
Juice under the hood. Gas in the tank. No traffic. No cops. Get it?

So 30 minutes were (cough) quite a few miles. I was putting a lot of asphalt under the wheels in short order. :)

Then we arrived in Kingman (check those song lyrics, folks). We continued along Interstate 40 for a while - that's one wide open divided highway. Then on down the way, about halfway to Williams, Arizona is where you can hop off onto The Legendary Highway, Route 66 and continue eastward until you get to Williams (Williams is where you change roads to get to the Grand Canyon).

I cruised down Route 66 in my rented Mustang thinking about the road's great history. I thought of Daddy. He would have loved it.

By the time we got to Williams we were running out of daylight in a big way. We were not going to be watching that autumn sunset from the South Rim. So, we pulled into a Safeway in Williams and got a few things we needed:  toothbrushes, tooth paste, deodorant, some soap - you get the picture. Everything we needed for the night was in our Safeway Plastic Grocery Bags. Uh-huh, our "luggage".

Remember our original plan was to see the sunset at the Grand Canyon and then drive back to Vegas. With no daylight we weren't going to see the Grand Canyon until morning, and we didn't drive all that way not to see it. So, we were staying the night somewhere until sunrise. We had no idea if we could even find a room when we got to our destination. We might have been sleeping in the car for all we knew.

Hopped back in the 'Stang and blasted up Highway 64 out of Williams headed for the South Rim and a little town called Tusayan, Arizona. It's nice. I recommend it.

Along the way you increase elevation and you travel through a very dense, piney forest - Kaibab National Forest, which blends seamlessly into Grand Canyon National Park. I did not know this until the next morning (when I could see it), but that forest extends all the way up to the South Rim of that yawning, mile-deep abyss. Meanwhile, it was already utter blackness and we couldn't see much of anything except what was in our headlights.

Arriving in Tusayan we drove up to the South Rim and checked on availability in the lodge there in the Grand Canyon park proper - none. We drove back into Tusayan on the road that went right past the South Rim lookout. We couldn't see a thing, but I swear I could feel the immensity of the gaping hole to our left as we drove by in the pitch darkness - eerie.

Back into Tusayan proper and we proceeded to try to find a room. First place we checked had none, zero, zippo. I was getting worried. There aren't a lot of options up there.

It may have been early October, but keep in mind we were dressed for Vegas and the Hoover Dam. Not cold there in October. South Rim of the Grand Canyon - COLD in early October. Sleeping in the car was looking far less attractive at this point.

The next place we tried was this quaint little lodge on the main street. It had one room left. We parked the Mustang and checked in, with our "luggage". We laughed about that "luggage" all evening. Hell, we still laugh about that.

We had dinner at a little diner and then back to our room. We slept and arose at 4:00 a.m. Checked out and drove on up to the lookout over the South Rim. We waited about an hour in the car, in the dark. The temp was right at freezing - not kidding. We were freezing our butts off with no coats. Then finally as the sun began to shed some of its light from the east, we got out and walked to the rim lookout. The below is only some of what we saw that very early morning.

 

 

Then it was back to reality. I had a 1:00 p.m. lunch meeting with my agent on the schedule. I was 5 hours from Vegas in the same clothes I wore the day before and I looked like crap. It was time to get high behind.

We were driving through the Kaibab forest at a pretty fair rate of speed when we spied a bull Elk on the side of the road - and he was facing the road, as if he was thinking about crossing it. This thing was immense! I had to take my foot off the gas, because if you hit one of those you're dead. He would walk away, but we and our car would be the road kill! That's an animal about 5 feet at the shoulder with a weight from 700-1,000 lbs! It's like running your car into a brick wall. So, light on the gas until we passed him. He looked at us like he was bored and then turned and walked back into the forest.

Magnificent beast.

Disaster averted. Back to pedal to the metal.

A brief stop for breakfast in Williams and then hell bent for leather back through Kingman, The MOFN Wilderness, over the Hoover Dam, and then blew through Boulder City, Henderson and Viva Las Vegas!!

I had slightly more than 1 hour to get ready for the meeting with my agent. Back to the hotel, speed shower/makeup/hair/nice clothes and Voila! There I was at a table in Olive at the Bellagio  having lunch with my agent, just as planned.

In the past 24 hours I had driven 536 miles, seen the Hoover Dam and the Mt. Wilson Wilderness Area, driven on the Legendary Highway/Route 66, seen the Kaibab National Forest (complete with intimidating bull Elk) and watched sunrise over the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Oh, and I had seen the Safeway in Williams, Arizona and invested in some of their "luggage". ;)

It's one of the best drives I've ever made in my life. :) Wooo-hooo!!

So, there you are - that's how I came to spend the night at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon with Safeway grocery bags for luggage. :)

Freaking Epic.

Polla filia,
J.F.