I hate to admit how long it has taken me to finish these edits but oh my goodness it's been hard. My mind is just . . . blurg. So difficult. Emotions and stress, but darnitt I had to finish this last round or die trying. Thank goodness I have such a wonderful publisher and editor!
So now . . . what do I do? Isn't that always the problem in life? We worry and stress over something for a long time, then when it's over or almost over, we all say . . . now what? Actually the real problem is I have too much lined up and can't decide what to work on next. But that's a good problem to have and I can't complain.
One thing I like to do when I'm not super busy is take in old movies. There's something about watching Clark Gable or Charlie Chaplin or Greta Garbo that melts all troubles away. Maybe because they were so beautiful and full of magic. I practically live on TCM most of the time. It's my one true 'comfort food.' I also love to read old magazines or newspapers, mostly because I like the adverts. Who says you can't travel time?
So, what do you do to stave off the ills of life, my beautiful friends?
You have probably seen most of these if you know me on Facebook, but for those who don't here are some of my favorite pictures taken as of late. Mostly they are of my children—my favorite subjects—but some also of Henry, who is also considered family and friend. Oh! There's one of dear Coco as well.
I struggled whether to write a post about last night's attacks because I didn't want it to come off as obligatory, especially since my third book features in Paris. There's nothing worse than using an event for self-promotion. But I did think about something interesting, and that is the fact that my book is about Love, and Paris is the city of Love. Why is it that LOVE is always the biggest victim of violence? Is it because it is seen as a weakness, a fault? It isn't. Love is the biggest, strongest, most unifying bond between two people, or a group of people, or even the entire world. Love cures all, serves all, embraces all, transforms all. It's available to everyone, at any time and in any place. It is invisible, yet obvious. Children understand it best. Look for a child and you will know what Love is in its purest essence. Animals know it. They follow it instinctively. There's no one and nothing on this earth who can't have or give Love.
So the group who hurt and killed innocent victims last night are the most unfortunate and destitute people on this earth because they can't understand the most simplest yet magnanimous bond the rest of us have the privilege to know.
And for us it will only grow stronger. From this moment forward.
At last . . . fall has arrived! I'm not sure if I should be sad or happy, because I do love fall, but it means winter is coming. And as we all know, winter is the longest, most irritating, whiny b*tch in the world. Amiright? Yeah, it is. What's funny is Julia is sooo excited about winter coming that she checked out an armfull of books about her 'favorite' season yesterday and asked me to read them to her last night. Imagine the acting skills it took to recite: "Winter is coming. Winter is coming. Everyone put on your coat and hat. The sky is gray, it might snow today! Everybody say . . . yay!!!!!!"
Cue Grumpy cat.
I mean . . . I do like winter. It's pretty and I love the hush of the world and the sound of tires crunching on fresh snow and sunrise on icicles and I like eggnog and wearing my favorite sweater.
Sorry, I ran out.
Do you like winter? Do you like snow? Come on, people . . . let me know! Maybe you'll get a prize, or maybe you won't. Pass the bottle, honey. It's El Nino.
Today is John Lennon's 75th birthday. If you've read The Time Seekers you know that my rebellious young character Jesse claims to be John's illegitimate son. Bitter and seeking answers, he goes to New York to meet the famous rock star, but by the end of the book something happens that just might change history forever. Can't say without giving it away!
You guys know how much I adore John Lennon. He's been a guru, a father-figure, my fantasy lover, an imaginary friend, etc. I used to sleep with a picture of him every night under my pillow because I LOVED HIM THAT MUCH. Seriously. It was weird, but I really do adore him, and thank you very much, Tom, for telling me John was tiny—it only slightly ruined my fantasy. I'll have you know that after much research it's concluded that John was about 5' 10". So, fantasy FULL ON again.
John had proclaimed himself a 'househusband'—a term fairly new to most people in the late 70s. He took care of Sean, baked bread and generally became a recluse. Because he felt he'd let down his first son Julian, as his father had with him, Sean became his final chance to get it right. For the most part I think John did a good job, but what bothers me about those last years is the sort of imprisonment he seemed to be enduring. Yoko is an amazing artist, no one can argue that, but I've been doing a lot of research on narcissistic behavior and from what I've read she fits many of the characteristics. Was John really free to go out and do as he pleased? Was he being manipulated by someone who knew all of his weaknesses, someone who had not only control of his heart but also his money; his brand, his image? I'm really starting to wonder. Something tells me had John not been murdered the night of December 8th, 1980, he probably would have split from Yoko and started a new life. But no one will ever know for sure because we, and he, weren't given the chance.
If you look at John those last few years, he's emaciated. That's what really bothers me the most. Why didn't anyone tell him he had an eating problem? Was he being encouraged to control his food intake? It's clear he had body issues and needed help. Something in my gut says there was foul play on so many levels. Because he'd lost his mother at a young age, then his best friend, then countless other people he cared about, I think he was emotionally fragile. These are the kind of people narcissists latch onto. It makes me very sad. In my opinion, he was a victim of emotional manipulation and he wasn't living life of his own free will. He wasn't even allowed to have a bodyguard. Wow.
I always sort of envision John as a swan. He was special, and for anyone to have killed him, it's like sin of all sins. But if you look at history, many of the peacemakers have met violent ends. We can't seem to handle it. We're devolving. We've reached that level of high consciousness and have become so afraid that we've started to descend. Down, down, down we go.
If John were still alive he'd love the internet. But like the rest of us, he'd grow tired of the constant bullying and taunts, and most of all, the politics. In my opinion, he'd say, "Alright, we've had enough of being online, let's all get out and DO SOMETHING. Let's create change. Let's still be humans. We have the ability, and we've got the power. Freedom comes from within. We're all free. We're all beautiful. Seek peace. And above all, love one another."
Every time I hear the song Mind Games
I get a deep, deep feeling of love and hope.
Chills. That's the beauty of John Lennon. It came on the other night in the car and it really struck me
how completely different the sound is. How different all of John's songs are. It's so imprinted with his soul. No one can change that or ever take it away. Happy Birthday, John. We miss you.
Editing, still editing. Wish I could say it's the best thing in the world, but really it's kinda tough. You guys know this, but this has been a rough year, and writing—one of my biggest joys and loves in life—is like pulling teeth for me because I JUST CAN'T CONCENTRATE. All I can think about is how am I going to make money, how do I make money. Money, money, money. I've never written a darn thing for the reason of gaining a profit, but I am human, and dang it, some moola would be nice. But . . . that's life and we're all in this together.
Thought I would mention Julia, mah baby girl who's not such a baby anymore. We've got this thing going because she's so flipping smart that it's insane, and I started this game called, Hey Google. She's Google, btw. I say, Hey Google, what continent is Japan on, she says, Asia. I say, What's a snail, she says, A mollusk. I say, this that everything you-name-it, she knows it. Hey Google, what's the closest ocean to us. Well, actually, since we're in the middle of the U.S., it's both. Are you sure, because I think w'ere closer to the Atlantic. She nods slightly, making a mental note to check it out later and prove me wrong, haha. I don't mind being wrong.
Hey Google, how do I make money?
Hope you guys and gals are swinging the night away. Think of me sometimes.
I like to call this my "bird on a hot tar roof." She follows me everywhere. It was a Sunday night in July, and I was sitting in the backyard watching the kids play, when this mourning dove flew onto the roof. A little later in front of me, a white feather floated to the ground. After that, I found feathers everywhere. These last few days when the kids have come home from school I've asked, What did I find today? They say, A feather? Today Henry and I started off for our morning walk and I thought, hmm, wouldn't it be funny if one more showed up? As soon as I said that, I looked down, and there it was. A grey and white feather.
This dove follows us on our walks. It flies from tree to tree until we arrive back home. Not sure what's going on other than an angel is really watching out for me. That's so beautiful.
I feel like I should give her a name. Any suggestions?
I woke up this morning with a feeling of new. New life, new hope, new day, new ideas. Surely something's around the corner waiting to crush this feeling, but for now it feels good. The kids started school today and I'm sad, miss them, and dang it's quiet around here. It's only half a day, and they usually sleep until noon, but still . . . it hurts. It hurts all year. There's a hole in my heart when my kids are gone.
I have to say, if I had known how difficult it would be to write a trilogy, I might have chosen otherwise. Although revisiting my characters on a long-term basis is a satisfying gig, just the mere weight of having to dissect and present their lives in literary form has also been a trial. Sometimes, especially with these edits, I wanted to yell at my characters and say, "I don't care about your stupid lives! Please stop doing stupid things!" Lol. Oh, but it's true. It's hard enough trying to justify my numbnut actions on a constant basis!
But I guess in a way it's also gratifying. You can learn a lot from your characters, such as: don't make promises with a half-soul human; if you see a coin while hanging off a cliff, don't pick it up; don't time-travel unless you absolutely have to; stay out of those creepy cults; don't let a-hole rockstars rule your life; if you have a gift, use it, don't lose it; gun fights with a soul stealer is a ticket to death. And many others.
I think my next book will be a standalone. No sequels.
Hope your day is excellent! Thanks for stopping by!
The other week the kids and I were hanging out in the backyard when all of a sudden this nasty little insect came and sat near Julia. I thought it was a wasp. And what do you do with a wasp? You scare it off, of course! Without letting it know what's what I squirted it with a water gun, which turned out to be a really bad idea. That thing went psycho and attacked Julia full-force, who screamed her head off. Then it went after me, and still thinking it was a wasp, I let it sit on my finger while not moving. That's when the little sucker bit me. Oh, heck no! I swatted it away, because I'm not getting bit by anything, and then the flying Hitler went even more psycho and dive-bombed all three of us. I wish there had been a camera on the backyard, and perhaps Google does have one, you never know, but we three screamed and bee-lined to the house. Well, before Julia made it to the backdoor I saw the little winged a-hole was on her head, and she was about to go in! Oh, double heck no! I screamed that it was on her head and not to go inside, and of course she screamed too. We all screamed. Then it flew away.
Shew.
Turns out it was a horsefly. Yick. And I let it bite me. They draw blood and will suck the soul out of anything they can get their disgusting teeth on. They will also follow an opponent for miles without giving up.
But they do have cool eyes.
Ever had your own experience with this jerk? Do tell.
Hey, lovely people! I know I haven't been around much lately, or at all, but I hope life is good and that things are going well. Not gonna lie, edits are tough, but I think stepping back and getting some perspective has helped me figure out a way to go that will be beneficial to the story. Also, life itself has offered some additional insight into my character's motivations. It's pretty interesting, actually. However, I know most of this means absolutely nothing to most of you, especially when I've written it all in gibberish! But thanks for reading anyway.
Here's something I enjoy doing with my time away from writing. I love old houses and caught on to this fellow's massive amount of video footage of abandoned homes. Kind of sad that some of them were torn down after he filmed, but isn't it interesting to get a first-hand glimpse of these forgotten structures? It makes you wonder what happened to make the former owners leave so suddenly, that there's still possessions hanging around. I would love, love, love to go through some of these houses myself. For now, though, I am content to armchair it on YouTube.
Take care, awesome people. Hope you're having a wonderful July!
