Everything (Okay, SOME Things) I know, I Learned From a Puppy

        Our house is no longer a quiet, peaceful place. Four new paws patter and clatter across our floors. My husband and I already had two senior dogs, but a puppy changes things completely...


       Here are some things I've already learned in the very short time (24 hours) we've had Radar:

• It's a good thing to chew on bark. Radar--no matter how I try to divert him in a variety of ways--loves to get a piece of bark/a stick/a hunk of sod and chew on it. I pick him up and move him to another part of the yard, but he keeps returning to get his "prize" (or a different one--after all, there's an endless supply of things to slobber on in the backyard).

       If I had the same amount of persistence as that little dog, perhaps I'd be a best-selling novelist by now. (And if I chewed on bark instead of chocolate, I'd be skinny and successful!)


 

• Get rid of the bad stuff. How many times a day can a puppy pee and poo? Yesterday, the count was 1,237. I'm hoping for a few less times today.

       Of course, as writers, the "bad stuff" we have to get rid of is self-doubt. Negativity. That internal editor that cuts us down. Evacuate that sh**. Now.

• Naps (and breaks) are good things. After spending time tormenting the older, cranky dogs and checking the food bowls and floors for stray pieces of food and trying to tear up the rug and gnawing on the furniture and checking for stray bits of food and knocking over the trashcan...it's time to take a break. A short nap is all it takes to recharge and reenergize.

       When we're immersed in a writing project--whether it's a short piece or a novel-long manuscript--we have to step away. Relax. Do something different. And then get back to it...


        Now I'm off to play with the puppy ... (And if Blogger was cooperative, I would be including a couple of photos. Maybe it will get less persnickety later on.)








 

2 Winners and a Welcome

        The furry, puppy-breath part first. In a couple of days we will be welcoming a chewing-peeing-yipping machine into our fold. Here is a picture of Radar. He's coming to our house on Wednesday.

         And after spending hours and hours creating the entries, I was ready to draw two winning names.

      (The names on the left were for the copy of The Harsh and the Heart. The names on the right were for the We Will Survive anthology.)

      And the winners are:

Pat H.--We Will Survive

Donna--The Harsh and the Heart

       Ladies, if you email me your home address, I will send your book to you. (My email address is at the top of my blog.)
      

The Power of Our Words

       Do our words matter? Does anybody read the lines we write down?

       I did a guest post at The Muffin, where I pondered the power of our words. Here is a link, in case you have a few spare minutes and would like to peruse...

http://muffin.wow-womenonwriting.com/2014/05/friday-speak-out-power-of-story.html

These are some of the writers who shared their story
at the 2014 Listen to Your Mother St. Louis show.
My guest post at The Muffin tells about something that happened
to me right after the final show...

Memorial Day Giveaways

        Today is the day when we reflect on those who have gone ahead of us--those who have passed before us, and those who have served for us.

      Yesterday on the show 60 Minutes they covered some new treatment for veterans with post-traumatic stress disorder. It's called "Prolonged Exposure" (I think I'm remembering the name correctly) and involves them telling their story over and over. Too often, they bury it inside. As soldiers who have served say, "If you've been there, I don't need to say anything and if you haven't, there's nothing I can say." It's the same therapy that has been used with rape victims. Each time they tell their story, they heal a little more...

         The Harsh and the Heart has sentimental value for me in a couple of ways. One, it was the first anthology that included a story of mine--my first publishing credit. Second, it features a story about my dad. It was written while he had Alzheimer's, when his personality and his memories were gone. Now he's gone completely...

        
      This collection is an inspiring one. Several of my writing friends have stories in it, including Lynn Obermoeller, Linda O'Connell and Alice Muschany. (Sadly, my story did NOT survive. In fact, it was turned down in a case of projectile rejection. However, I am still thrilled for the writing colleagues who were lucky enough and talented enough to get accepted.)

      On June 1 I will be drawing names of the winners. If you're only interested in one of them, indicate that, or if you'd enjoy winning either one, let me know, and I'll put your name in both hats (literally and figuratively, although it will probably be a bowl and not a hat). 

     Have a great Memorial Day...and may your day be filled with fond memories of loved ones.

And if you're not booked up on June 1, you're in Missouri and would like to hear some writers read their words, check out the event that Columbia Chapter of the Missouri Writer's Guild is hosting. It's free (and should be lots of fun--I went last year and it was a delightful afternoon).

Risky Business

         Living your life to the fullest.
         Going after your dream.
         Being true to yourself...it's risky business.

         One of the million and one reasons why I am lucky to be a member of the WWWPs (an infamous writing critique group) is they are all risk-takers. None of them are afraid of their next step.

        Beth quit her high-paying job to start up her own business. Three kids at home (two of them teenagers) and single motherhood added to the scary factor. But she continues to hammer away at getting new clients and going after new opportunities...

       Linda has enough grandkids...in her spare time she could be content to make cookies for her grandbabies (or just eat the raw cookie dough herself and deprive them of goodies, which is what I would do), and yet she submits to more places by 5:17 in the morning--every day--than most people do in a week. Linda doesn't think, 'What if I lose out on this chance?' Instead, she thinks, 'What do I have to lose?'

       Tammy is the quiet one, the one who does things unbeknownst to the group and then when we get wind of the results of her work, we're blown away. Everyone knows the phrase "still waters run deep," right? Well, Tammy submits stories and enters contests without talking about them. She doesn't just talk the talk--she walks the walk as well. Recently, she was a Reader's Digest winner. The flashy true story was just like what she brings to our critique meetings twice a month--we all become fly-catchers as our mouths gape open--but she quietly crafted it and sent it off...without a thought to what her chances were. There are writers I know (I just looked at one of them in the mirror this morning)  who heard of the contest but shot themselves down before they even had the chance to try. Tammy was willing to take the risk. 

        And if you haven't had the chance to read her winning story, check it out.     

        Lynn was the first of our group to try NaNoWriMo--many years ago. Writing a novel-length manuscript is not for the knock-kneed, and Lynn has successfully "won" with NaNo more than one year. She also is brave enough to never turn away from her personal journey as a writer. Lynn has several long projects she's juggling, she goes to conferences to grow as a writer and as a human being, and--of the five of us--I think she lives the truest writer's life. She writes/journals/sketches/revises every day. It's part of her daily ritual. And putting one foot in front of the other--taking that first step every day--takes a lot of courage.

     What kind of risks have you taken recently (or at any point in your life)?

                                                    or

                Who is the biggest, most bad-a** risk-taker you know? (My nosey nose wants to know.)

Punching Over a Piece of Cake

        When my brother and I were growing up, our mom regularly baked cakes and batches of brownies. Inevitably, we'd end up with one last piece of cake or one solitary brownie left.

       And every time, my brother and I would both want that last portion of dessert.

       My mother settled the problem in the only equitable way, and she didn't learn it from her mom. My mom was an only child, so she must have dreamed up the perfect solution on her own.

       My mom would have one of us divide the piece of cake or the brownie in half; the other one would get to choose first. It alternated. When it was my turn, I would get a mental ruler in place, because I didn't want to give my brother an extra crumb. Neither one of us ever complained, because it was extremely fair.

      What advice or lesson did you learn from your mom that stuck with you over the years?

(This is a picture of my birth mother, Imogene Gann, who taught me a completely different lesson than my mom, a lesson that changed my entire life. When the "Listen to Your Mother" videos come out on Youtube, you'll have to watch mine to find out how she changed my life.)