Splash (or Splutter?)

I've been watching this new reality show called Splash about a group of celebrity contestants who learn how to dive and, week after week, compete against each other in order to win a final title of, what, best diver who's still alive? Not sure, but it's a horrible show. And I can't stop watching.

Each week these poor contestants come out in sparkly ill-fitted bathing suits to an assemblage of blood-thirsty spectators amid flashing lights and stunt divers. Sequins are flying everywhere; it's a den of fools. The producers show us how practice went that week, via film clip. Usually the celebrity is mumbling they can't, they can't and when you see their poor arm-flopping attempts you say to yourself, "They're right. They can't. And they shouldn't." But coach Greg Louganis, former head-busting Olympic medalist, urges them to reach past their fears and try something new. One person breaks an ear drum, another is too heavy to get out of the pool without assistance. Clearly the show was not very well planned, there's not even a Med-Act unit around. Film clip over, the contestant moves up to a high platform where they stare at the water below and shake in their skivvies. "This is crazy," they say to the camera. And we nod. Crazy. Yes. Will they dive? They didn't practice on the ten-foot platform. Greg Louganis smiles and says in a very soft preschool-teacher type of delivery, "You can do it." Maybe it's the brain injury. Yes, it must be. He's clearly bonkers to think his group of diving progenies has the ability to fling themselves up into the air, do a flip, and land without any sort of pain or scarring.

Another few minutes of celebrity quivering passes before the contestant bends over into a handstand and then hurls their body into the air. "Tell my mother I love heeeeeeeer." KABLAM. SPLASH.

"Ooh," they say, crawling out of the pool akin to the first slimy beginnings of life dawn of time has ever produced. "Oy. That hurt. But what's my score? Will I be eliminated this week?" Please eliminate me, they're praying.

The nice judge scores highly. The second, I call him Popeye, he's kind of mean. He always gives a low score, may he rot in hell.

Then there's the Dive Off. The worst contestant goes home, and the second worst gets to resume another week of practice at some crumbling LA pool that used to be awesome in the time of the El Camino.

Splash is, quite possibly, the worst show ever put on television. But here's the thing. I love it. I love how the contestants, scared as they are, still try to do their best every week despite the failures, despite the pain and the stupid glittery costumes. These people are devoted. Bull headed. It's brilliant. Splash is like a Hollywood grouping of celestial recourse. These celebrities needed this show, this challenge. Some have a fear of heights, some have physical limitations that should make every singe moment of it impossible. But ask them if it's impossible.

Every week they risk their lives. And for what? I'm sure ABC isn't handing out equal restitution for the fear, the pain, the lost eardrums and split backsides. These people persist and we, the audience, have grown to love them for their tenacity amidst the chaos. I know I need to learn a lot about tenacity, perhaps that's what draws me to the show. Or maybe it's because I like those who fail but aren't failures. There's a difference, you know.

Perhaps we're all on the highest platform every second of our life, and we're sacred, so freaking scared to take the leap. To dive. We're unprepared, we have pre-existing ailments, judgements, terrors and yet me must dive and hope it all works out okay.

But we do. We always take that dive.

Feline Takeover

Every morning Grape the cat tries to steal my office chair. I have a fleece blanket draped over the seat, so that may be her draw, but anyway, it has become her mission in life to get this chair away from me. I'll tell you how the sneaky little thing does it.

She waits for me to sit down with my coffee and snack, like a gingerbread cookie or something, and then saunters into the room. She stops, looks at me and lifts a paw to lick—as if she hasn't really noticed me, or if she has, it isn't much to ponder on. After cleaning her paw for a moment, she makes a running leap to the computer desk. Back and forth she walks, under my nose, letting me pet her along the back. If I pet her too little, she gets annoyed. If I pet her too much, she stops and nibbles on my hand. Either way, I usually get a nibble. "Hey!" I yell, scooting back. "No biting!" Grape peers at me with mock surprise. Did I bite you? Oh, I did. Try and pet me again. BITE. "Hey!" You're a horrible petter, Amy Saia. Horrible.

I get up from the chair. I'll just leave the room and come back when little miss Grape has cooled down.

Five minutes later I come back and find her spread out across the chair, paws flexing in sublime joy. My document waits with blinking cursor, but the fear is too much.

Hello, this is Grape the kitteh. I never 'bite' Amy. I just taste her a little. Besides, she's always sitting in my chair tapping her fingers on this rectangle thingy . . . you know how it goes. A cat's gotta do what a cat's gotta do. 

Maybe I should use a cement bench to sit on? Ideas?

Perseverance

A few months ago I started submitting a young adult contemporary, a book loosely based on my freshman year of high school. It was a very awkward time in my life, and I always knew I'd find a way to encapsulate it in some artistic form. I chose the sarcastic, buck-toothed Joni Weaver whose mom is an online poker-playing social dropout, and dad is an alchy running the local movie theater across town. I'm very proud of the book. It's not perfect, it's not a great piece of literary fiction. But it has its moments. Out of nine query letters sent out, I had four very reputable agents ask for the manuscript. Two have declined, and two are still reading.

It takes a lot of patience to be a writer.

It also takes a lot of determination, acceptance of failure, self-motivation, and perseverance.

I know that I am meant to do three things in my life: music, writing, and motherhood. Maybe throw art in there too, but I am most passionate about the others. Music is my soul. I've always been singing and writing songs, picking at pianos and guitars. Always. But on the same note I grew up in a library, and books and writing are like my spirit. I couldn't do one with out the other.

I just wish I could make some money doing this. I wish an agent would take a chance on me. I wish I could write that one book that would bring me financial relief so that I could take my kids to the dentist whenever the need calls, or buy them clothes when all their others have worn into bare threads and holes.

But I am not alone, and there are many writers out there who want the same thing. Who have the same issues.

We'll get through it.

Adding: There is a contest to win a free copy of The Soul Seekers over at goodreads. One more day to enter!

A tip for those with writer's block

photo credit: pedrosimoes7 via photopin cc

If you have ever experienced writer's block, then you know it is a real condition. I get so frustrated me when I hear people say that it isn't real, because I'll bet you ten to one they have never experienced it themselves.Writer's block is like being stuck in a dry well hoping for water, wanting water, waking up every day ready to see a full well, but getting nothing. When someone makes the statement that, "Writer's block isn't real," I want to say, "How do you know, if you've never experience it?" 

I do think it can be avoided as well as helped. But first let's look at some of the causes of writer's block. Stress. Family issues. Financial issues. Emotional issues such as depression. Many times, these are combined into one, or are causes of each other. Whatever it is, once it gets going, it's hard to escape. So, you have to learn how not to let life interrupt your writing schedule.

Find a place. A place all your own. A room, a designated area, a desk, maybe just have a laptop that is all yours. But find it and honor it, and make sure the people around you will honor it too. 

Find a special time to write. Are you more creative in the morning? In the afternoon? Late at night? Choose at time and stick with it. Don't wait for the right time, because it will never come. Writing is a habit, and needs habitual circumstances. So find the time, and keep it.

Keep a journal. A creative mind is like a strand of Christmas lights and can often get tangled up with the slightest of interruptions. Our life, our problems, all those ideas, sentences, characters, dialogue, plot! It's a lot to keep in order. If you allow your life's stresses to get tangled up with your creative ideas, it's going to end up being a knotted mess. So get it out. Sit down every day before your writing session and let out your fears, your ideas, your hopes, your stresses and just see how much better your mind works!

Write a little every day. One sentence leads to a paragraph. A paragraph leads to a page. A page leads to a chapter, and then a whole book. There's a lot of pressure when approaching a manuscript when you have the mindset that you have to get it all done right now. You can't! It isn't possible! But you can write one sentence at a time. To be honest, that's the secret of writing: to write one sentence at a time until you reach the end. That's it. There's no magic. No hidden tricks. It's all about perseverance and trust. Trust yourself. You can do it. You can.

One last thing that I like to do is track my progress. I use a free site (though donations are accepted) called Writetrack and it lets me enter my daily word count with an overall goal in mind. It's funny how competitive I am with myself, but hey, it works! You can also post your daily progress on twitter to encourage all your friends. Or to show off. : )

And remember, be kind to yourself. The biggest factor in writer's block is the disbelief that we have the ability to create. You do. It's there. Remember to love yourself, and to to love the precess of writing. Make it fun. Make it a habit. And the next thing you know, you'll be holding a completed manuscript. 

Thanks for reading and the best of luck to you!