A pic and a cough

Okay, well out of three that I've seen this one is my favorite. Too bad I didn't get a tan this summer! We went to the pool quite a bit early on, but then it got so hot we ended up inside most days and all that nice color just faded like it was the middle of winter.

Anyway . . . I am sick. This has been a busy, stressful week. What I didn't tell you was that I had to take care of my niece and nephew for three days, plus my own kiddos. On Tuesday I had the photo shoot, a radio spot with my dear friend Marshall—and then my friend who runs website for the show Big Brother who asked me to write a blog once or twice a week needed an extra piece and I had to rush one out! Good problems to have, really. Wednesday night it was school open house. Thursday I took the kids to the fair. Then I came down with a huge cold. I guess it's true that our bodies can only take so much. Last night I lay down in bed and watched old movies on TCM with the kids. I really liked the first movie Midnight with Claudette Colbert, Don Ameche and John Barrymore (whom I found extremely attractive in this role, even though it was rumored he was drunk the whole time and had to read cue-cards). Liam kept trying to kiss Claudette and then the scene would change and he'd end up kissing Don Ameche. We had a good laugh about that. He said he thought Claudette was beautiful, and she was. One of my favorite movies is It Happened One Night starring her and Clark Gable. Great movie.

Then Julia thought it would be great to put makeup on me while I lay there in bed, and I ended up with lipstick and powder all over my face. Kind of sweet, I know. Being sick ain't fun, but my kids make it enjoyable. That is . . . until I saw what they had done to the house. On their little trips out of the room, Julia had made cherry sugar candy using a pile of white sugar and cherry syrup, and chocolate gooey cake (again lots of sugar). Liam had gotten out every toy he owned, and there was a trail of stuff everywhere. Not kidding. So, this morning I had to drag my butt out of bed to clean it all. But I'm not complaining! I love these kids so much. Seeing Liam kiss Claudette Colbert was so cute. I'd clean the house a million times for moments like that.

So that's the status report. Oh, and school starts this week so I'll have some free time again to visit blogs and write blogs and just . . . write. That's amazing.

The Shoot

Well, I did the photo shoot. The studio was located in the River Market area in Kansas City, upstairs from Harry's Country Club—a nice little bar/pub at the end of a city street. A group of folks were outside talking and when they saw me walk up with my folksy dress and belt and guitar, they said, "Hey, are you the entertainment?" "No," I answered back. "Aw, well you could be. Go on in there and take the stage." "Uh, thanks, but no, I have a photo shoot." They were really starting to pressure me, those folks!

The photographer's name is Corky, and he came out of the bar just in time to save me from the crowd. We went upstairs and spent the next hour and a half taking shots near brick walks and windows; with chairs and tables as props. I had three dress changes and tons of different poses. He probably took several hundred shots, which he'll put on a disc for me to sort through later on. I think he tries to do a lot of tone corrections, sizing, etc. He was really nice about the whole thing, and kept up a string of pose ideas instead of asking me to make up things on spot. That was good for me, and kept things at a nice, calm level.

He wrote an email saying he was in the bar later after the shoot, and wouldn't you know he ran into a local music blogger who writes about up and coming acts as well as all the big touring acts that come into town? Corky is going to send me the information later so I can send out a cd package/press release. That's great news. I can't believe the timing! Karmic, I tell you.

So that's it. I have seen one picture and it's very nice, and though I will never like looking at my face, I can appreciate the great quality, and posing, lighting, etc. He did a great job. I'll let you see it and more when they are available. Thank you for the good thoughts, everyone. I truly appreciate being surrounded by wonderful people such as you!

BBC reflections

I used to watch a lot of BBC America, and I loved a couple of shows they ran. One was called Changing Rooms I think, the other had a similar concept but it was for gardens. It featured a straight laced announcer kind of guy, a big handy man (Andy? I think) and a beautiful redhead Charlie. She never wore a bra, I can remember that much. Those three would get together and transform a garden into a mini outdoor spa. Oh, the kicker was they only had two days to get it done. That was a great show.

Now BBCA just shows Star Trek of all things, and Top Gear. What do you guys think? What are your favorite BBC shows? Tell me what's new and what I can expect to show here in a few months.

Deep thoughts . . .

The session is set for Tuesday night. I'm going to wear two different outfits, one a dress that I made a long time ago. It's a black floral mid-length that I made to mimic a sixties dress I once saw in a Bob Dylan movie. Never thought it would come in handy. It was just the pretty dress that sat in my closet forever. I'm going to wear a big tan belt, and brown boots which I think look nice in contrast to the floral print. The other outfit is an all brown two-piece skirt, sounds unsexy, but it's pretty cute, haha. Now what to do with my hair . . .

Thank you for all your encouraging words yesterday. This has truly been hard for me and I appreciate the support. Having to expose myself in this type of media makes me so insecure. It's become apparent to me how I really do have depression, and writing is my cure. Music is my soul, but writing is my cure to take me away from myself, because it's a torrid, awful place in my head sometimes. The night before Amy Winehouse died, I was sitting on the back porch steps thinking about how hard it is to live at times. When I heard the news of her passing the next day, a Saturday, I felt it was almost a wakeup call for me to face this issue. I was clearly meant to sing and write and play music, but the presentation of it is so very painful when you don't have the ability to love yourself in a physical way. I do believe this is why Amy Winehouse had her problems, and poor thing, she lost the battle. This fills me with sadness. Although I do discredit her for lauding the fact that she would never go to rehab. It was a very unhealthy attitude, a self-depreciating attitude. A better anthem would have been, If I have to go, I'll come out shining. Not as catchy, I know.

A while back I posted a story about the little girl who could sing like an angel, and a vocal chord expert said it was her brain coordinating the extraordinary talent. Well, I do believe our brains have the power to rise above our fears, our weaknesses, our addictions. Easy to forget when the world is such a harsh place to live sometimes, but that's why we must learn, each of us, to stand back and think for ourselves; create a reserve of strength to draw on in the toughest moments. And dammit, sometimes you just have to be an actor or actress and say, "I am not this situation. I'm still me, now and later and forever. But I am not THIS."

And that's the end of deep thoughts . . . by Amy. Have great Saturday.

Life for life's crazy sake

Life is a little confusing right now, but I'm sure I'll look back on it later with a sick sort of longing. Meadowland is done, I've almost completed all the graphics for the packaging, the only thing left is to have a few pictures taken and to send the whole thing off to a cd duplication company. For the moment, this looks to be the front cover (you've seen it before in a slightly different form):

I'm really, horribly nervous about the photo shoot. More than I should be. But this is one reason why Meadowland hasn't seen the light of day until now. Me and pictures: terror. Pure terror. I've had the photographer's information for a few weeks, and couldn't get the nerve to set up a session. Well, first there was no money, but now there is, and finally last night I sent an email to say I was ready, but dear God why is it so hard for me to do these things? Regardless, I have to do it. You know, I read that Dusty Springfield and Carly Simon had/have similar stage fright issues, so I don't feel so alone. But still, it's crazy and I wish I had confidence like other people.

AmyymA

I'm in a pattern. But I like patterns. Wake up at 5:30 am, feed the dog, the cat, make some coffee, carry coffee to computer, sit down, read internet crap, try to write, read more internet crap, write some more, keep writing, get up, get some water, pet cat, dog, write, write, take a shower, make breakfast, kids get up, clean, be a mom, make cookies, take kids outside, clean, clean, make dinner, watch tv, read books to kids or myself, get ready for bed, sleep.

Every day it's the same. When school starts it will all change and that's good. But for now, I am starting to feel like Jack Nicholson in The Shining, "All work and no play makes Amy a dull girl . . ." Don't worry. I don't have an axe around here.

How to get rid of Heat

I'm interrupting this program to alert you to a recent problem. Heat. She came to lunch and stayed for dinner. She wrapped herself around the back porch with long arms, and then began stepping all over my flowers and my bean plants, the grass, the apple trees. She takes the breath right out of bees, and fleas, and she's, I'm afraid, never going to leave. I don't know what to do. I'm running out of ice. I've worn this same bikini, one-hundred-and-twice. Maybe I'll buy her a ticket. Yes, that's a good idea. A ticket. To Spain. Or France. Where she can run and dance. Like a ballerina, pirouette away, away, away, away. You were never meant to stay.

You know, they recommend putting sheets in the freezer for an hour before bedtime. Better yet, just sleep in the freezer. Or stand there all night, using a bag of frozen peas for a pillow.

Yodelayheehoo!

One of the settings in my book is a set of caves that Emma and Will must negotiate in the dark to escape being turned into ghosts forever. I didn't start off with a real, determined location, but after falling upon an article describing the beautiful caves in the O'Bannon State Park, I became so excited with the idea of using such a location in my book. I never mention cave specifics, but did write about an indoor mountainous structure located in the Wyandotte Caves called Monument Mountain. Of course my next thought was to have my characters end up in this wildly fantastic hidden apex of the middle earth. I'd love to go see it some day.

Unfortunately, and this does sound funny when I say it, but a bat fungus has closed many caves to visitors in the last few years, so it may be a long time before I get to see my fictional character's real-life location.

It's so hot today that I would take a cave over a house. But the bats . . . well, yeah, I'd have to say no to bats.

Trust your brain

The other night ABC had a special about humans with super powers, like strength, brain power, endurance, etc. There was a very interesting segment on the little girl who came in second on America's Got Talent last year, Jackie Evancho. You've probably heard of her, she has an album out and has done a few shows over the course of the last few months. Anyway, in the segment, Jackie said she had no formal training. Her desire to sing was kicked off by the movie The Phantom of the Opera, which she emulated afterwards by memorizing and practicing all the songs. Then came her stint on AGT. They asked an ENT if she had special vocal chords or lungs that were stronger than most people. What was creating this huge, beautiful voice? Her brain, the doctor said. Her vocal chords and lungs are NO DIFFERENT than any other human out there. Her brain, and its willingness to learn the art of singing, breath control, perfect pitch—coordinating all of this together—was the key to her ability.

I think that's astounding. It really made me think about the way we approach our talents. Sometimes we are too afraid to tackle something when it might seem impossible to learn. We don't have enough training, we began too late, we're too old, too this, too that. But none of it matters. If you push past the fear and allow your brain to work hard, it will provide everything you need to succeed.

It's all there inside you.

Love It

I'm reflecting on last summer when I was at a crossroads with my book. The manuscript was clean and good, but it hadn't reached its shine yet. You don't really know this as a writer, especially if you've spent countless hours working on the poor thing. There comes a point when you just can't see.

But through it all I can tell you one thing: I loved my book. When it was bad, when it got better, when it was rejected, and when it was accepted. I didn't love the process, but I loved my book. That love is what drove me to read countless articles on the act of writing and publishing so that I might get what I had to a finish line, because the essence of the book was a wonderful thing and I knew it.

I love the act of writing. I'm a musician and I love to write and play and listen to music (boy do I ever love listening to music!), but writing—and fiction mostly—gives me peace. I hate having an idle mind. I can't. So, while I'm not doing music, writing is that existential existence where words like fire ants rush and claw through my synaptic gaps. I get a thrill with words. They play, they trick, they lead and flow. This week in particular I'm half crazy with music and words, words and music. That doesn't mean anything good is coming from my fingertips, but it keeps me energized.

The point is: love what you do, and love the product you create. You don't have to love the road you're walking on, but the reason your feet are moving down that road. Or learn to fly. Or swim.

Early morning

I haven't blogged in a long time. But there hasn't been much to miss, believe me. When I received my first editing notes, I pretty much went through a shock phase where I became very determined to get the job done. Then I spent a week completely avoiding getting the job done. Then a stomach virus went through the house, then it was forth of July. I kept saying to myself, "You have to finish those edits." But, I have to do laundry and cook and do dishes and—"No, sit your butt down and finish." Okay . . .

Up at 5:30, edit for a few hours. The kids get up and it's time to be a mom (or something close), clean, shower, take kids to pool, cook, maybe get in some edits or writing, sleep. Up at 5:30 again. Edit. Repeat, repeat. As long as I had those two or three hours each day, I could get the job done. And I did get them done. And I sent them off. Next thing you know I'm digging into some short story or whatnot, and I just can't stop writing now.

I kept thinking, gee, I really need to get back on the blog. But I don't have much to say about my life anymore. What's there to say? I'm a little depressed and I have been for a while. I like to devote myself to writing and art and music; that's where life is good. I'm extremely grateful that my book will be published because now my life makes more sense.

Most of all, thank you for being the wonderful people you are. I may not comment like I should, but I'll try to get back to that. Happy Sunday to you.