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From the kids at BSTA to the DC students I tutor to the kids I went to high school with who have never managed to grow up, I have discovered that you are never too old to learn something new from the most unexpected places.
May I meet many more of you and continue to be edified by your vast wisdom.
The food preparation has begun. Because my parents are visiting my little brother in Hawaii for Thanksgiving (it's a tough job, but they're selfless like that), I'm hosting Thanksgiving with my roommate. Two of her brothers, their families and a few friends are coming over, which means plenty of shopping and cooking.
Today I started on the turkey with a brine.
I also made that old Thanksgiving classic with a twist: cranberry sauce with a handful of blueberries and some orange zest.
This year I am making a bunch of traditional foods I have never made before, so we'll see how it all turns out.
This reminds me of one Thanksgiving up in Idaho when a couple of friends and I decided to get a fresh pumpkin and make a bunch of pumpkin-themed sides from scratch. Of course we did the traditional pumpkin pie, but we also made pumpkin bread, pumpkin butter, pumpkin cake, pumpkin roll and a couple other things. We had never made any of it before, but it was so much fun I think we convinced ourselves the food tasted better than it really did.
Good memories.
- Location:Washington, DC
Sorry to go off on that tangent, but it was inevitable.
The last day of my trip was blissfully uneventful. I drove through a lot of “Birthplace of…”s but couldn’t get to my camera in time to snap any pictures. I saw the birthplace of John Wayne, Ronald Regan and a bunch of people I have never heard of. Not to mention all of the “Land of Lincoln” signs I saw as soon as I crossed in to Illinois, which I find very ironic because he was born in Kentucky and died in Washington, D.C. He couldn’t even get elected to office in Illinois nor was his law practice very successful here. Did you know that Illinois also has several John Deer historic sites? I wasn’t even aware that there were any John Deer historic sites.
Again, I digress.
Driving through the remainder of Nebraska reminded me how serious they take their corn out here. Not only is it a huge part of the economy—ethanol gas is cheaper than regular gas there—but they also named an entire university student body after corn. Check out this major street dedicated to the golden vegetable and the people who shuck it.
The most common site I saw on the trip was this.
Hello, fellows.
Doing some good work there.
But do you really have to do it every twenty miles? I mean, come on, how bad can the roads really be? The answer to that question came as soon as I crossed in to Iowa—horrific. I hated all the construction through Nebraska, but driving on the pitted roads in Iowa made me wish again for the one-lane, slow traffic of the work zones.
I knew I was nearing my destination when I reached the crossing of the Missouri River, while less impressive than it’s more famous distributary it is still a sight to behold. Unfortunately, I only got a picture of the bridge.
I got some wonderfully fuzzy pictures of all the farmland in Iowa. A lot of people think the Plains States are all flat, but they’re really not.
They’re rolling and green and dotted with rivers and ponds—it was a beautiful drive.
The one place I actually stopped to take pictures was from the Illinois side of the Mississippi River. There is a scenic overlook that I stopped at to eat dinner. Breathtaking.
Can you imagine what the pioneers thought when they reached that river and then had to cross it without the aid of a structurally sound bridge? I mean, they didn’t even have an un-structurally sound bridge. You’ve all played Oregon Trail—you know what it’s like to ford a river.
By the time I finished eating and watching the deer run into the woods, the sun was setting. Of course, the sun sets in the west and I was driving east, so I took a picture of it in my side-view mirror.
Oh the green! Living in the desert for so long I forgot how many different colors of green there are. Emerald and forest and hunter and olive and lime. And the trees! Trees bigger than houses and wider than cars. I had forgotten so much in such little time. I feel bad for people in places like Arizona and New Mexico who think there are just two colors of green—kind-of-green and almost-green.
Then it was just flat (the Plains States might have rolling hills, but the Midwest really is just flat) farmland until about 40 miles from my parents’ house.
Oh, and with the cities east of the Mississippi also comes something I totally forgot about—tolls. That’s right, I had to pay $4.30 just to drive 40 miles. I guess it was worth saving the hour it would have taken me to drive the back roads.
So that’s America, or at least five states of it. Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, Iowa and Illinois. All 1,400 miles of it. Now I’m back among cities and trees and pollution. This is the way God intended men to live.
Maybe in a couple of days I’ll post a tour of my teenage stomping grounds. Then you can see how nerdy I really am.
P.S. Semester grades were just posted. I got a 3.908 for the semester—how cool is that? The great unfinisher has finished with a bang.
- Location:Aurora, IL
Speaking of driving 24 hours alone, I've been burning a whole bunch of road trip music. Any suggestions?
Wish me luck!
- Location:Rexburg, ID
(See? Isn’t she adorable?)
I blame the spray park for the pesky sunburn that started there. Though I applied two liberal coats of my sun block and one coat of my friend’s, my chest, arms and head still turned bright red.
Then the next evening we went to fly kits—this has absolutely nothing to do with the story I am telling, but it was a lot of fun so I wanted to work it in somehow.
Then Friday afternoon I played with that adorable 18-month-old in his wading pool and taught him the finer art of shooting himself with a water gun. (Unfortunately, his little hands couldn’t reach the trigger unless he was holding it up-side-down and backwards. This gave my healing sunburn the chance to begin the unhealing process.
But yesterday was the end-all, be-all of all study distractions. My friend came up from Salt Lake City and we took a daytrip to Yellowstone National Park. I was the height of all tourist fashion, which really isn’t saying much, with my pink Sox hat and coordinating pink shorts. I made sure to put sun block on my arms, face and neck to avoid my previous blunders. Then I became distracted by sights such as this.
And this.
And even this.
And perhaps this as well.
The point being, not only did I forget all of the work I have to do for the last week of classes. Not only did I forget about the rising gas prices and the fact that I will be driving back to Chicago in two weeks. Not only did I forget the name of every single geyser the minute my friend told me the name. I also forgot to put sunscreen on my legs. I get so excited when my skin matches my ensemble exactly.
So now my legs are burning up, my homework is undone and my bathing suit is still wet from over-use this week. But I only have four more days until I am finished with school and never have to avoid studying again.
- Location:Rexburg, ID
WFMAD: While I don't consider the Write Fifteen Minutes a Day challenge a waste of time, my problem is that I've been writing way more than 15 minutes a day, and not all of it is productive writing. But, hey, at this pace I won't have any trouble finishing the first draft of my WIP by the end of August.
Rock Band: I totally kick butt on the lyrics. I really can't sign well, but I can sign loud and fake my way through it. I've only played the game twice now, and I'm usually on vocals or drums because my friends all play too much Guitar Hero, which I really haven't, so I don't touch guitar. My crowning glory during our 2-hour Rock Band session last night was 99% on the hard level for the Red Hot Chili Pepper's "Danni California." I also blew away the hard level for Metallica’s "Enter Sandman," but that was only with a 96%. (Is it sad that I remember these numbers and have pride in them? The worst part is I can't wait to try those songs again on the expert level.)
Hulu.com: This is the best Web site ever for TV junkies like me, and it's not even illegal. Okay, it's really an enabling Web site for someone with a serious addiction to Doogie Howser, MD, but I can't seem to stop myself. But where else can I watch 80's TV shows from my childhood like Silver Spoons or re-watch some of my recent favorites like The Dresden Files (just added today). I know, I need help.
Rexburg Spray Park: My newest obsession is the water park that opened last year. Sure, it's not as cool as the humongous water slide that used to be there, and it was really made for little kids, but I have friends with little kids that I steal to go play in the water with me, which makes it okay. Give me a break, it's almost to 90 degrees here and I love the water. (Don't worry, after the spring that was winter, I won't complain about the heat. In fact, with it being so dry and still below 100, I wouldn't even call it hot.)
Summer Reading: It's been difficult without a huge library down the street from me or any really good bookstores in town, but I've still managed to get my hands on a lot of my summer reading list. I've also had the chance to read a bunch of books from previous reading lists that I hadn't had time to get to. Best book of the summer thus far: I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak. Any other recommendations?
But by far, one of my favorite ways to avoid homework this summer has been the LiveJournal community and blogging. I have never done anything like this before. Okay, so I keep a journal and do the Facebook thing, but this is so much more fun. Now I really should get back to doing my homework. No more excuses!
- Location:Rexburg, ID
At the moment, I am happy to do this. It gives me an excuse to set aside a media law paper on how a local newspaper avoids possible libel charges in a special report, a reaction paper on a book of modern poetics, an analytical paper on James Joyce's "The Dead," and other homework assignments I have been distracted by. I feel such cleansing spirit settle over me by the time I've written a few pages in my novel that I am almost ready to return to math problems and geology labs by the time I'm finished Plus, I feel such a sense of accomplishment that I am working on something that means so much to me rather than writing something I feel a responsibility to finish.
We'll see how I feel about writing for fifteen minutes while I'm trying to study for finals (IN TWO WEEKS!) or when I'm packing up all of my stuff and driving to Chicago at the end of the month. But I think even then I will feel a bit of a release once I've written something down.
I'm sorry I don't have any pictures from my Menan Buttes trip yesterday evening, but I forgot to grab my camera on the way out the door. Plus, I was hiking a volcanic mountain with a bunch of active, 19-year-old kids. What ever possessed me to think I could keep up with them without getting winded let alone want to take pictures of my sweaty, dusty self along the way? So here are some stock photos of the Buttes that I didn't have to take.
Pretty, aren't they? But I only say that now that I've had a long shower and a day to rest. Last night I would have just groaned in agony from quivering thigh muscles.
The one on the left is a view from the top of the North Butte (or R Mountain) of the Snake River Flood Plain. The one on the right is the basalt flows in front of the Southern Butte. The funny thing is these are actually cinder cones and not buttes, but the pioneers who named them weren't geology majors, so they didn't know that. Silly pioneers. What were they thinking?
- Location:Rexburg, ID
I feel like I am barely keeping my head above water at the moment—literally. I walked out of taking a math test to see it pouring rain. For a minute I thought I was back in Louisiana. I live in the middle of the desert and the only weather we have had this week is rain, snow or hail. What is with that?
On top of my regular homework, tests and projects, I’ve been working on several writing projects that have taken up way more time than I expected. I have a funeral to attend tomorrow afternoon, which in and of itself is hard enough, but my friend is also expecting a baby any day now (she’s been having contractions since Monday) and I’m supposed to watch her 18-month-old son when she goes into active labor. Because the funeral is about three hours away, I just know as soon as I get there my friend will need to push out that basketball, but I also know if I don’t go to the funeral I won’t be there to support people I truly love who are grieving. I just feel pulled in a lot of directions at the moment.
The good news is that midterm grades came out and I’m still doing well. And by doing well I mean not freaking out because I have so many assignments due at the end of the semester that I haven’t even started on and now I really have to do something because I should have been working on them all semester. No, I am ahead in most of my classes, and I’m still enjoying them as well.
Wow, I really sound like a nerd. Maybe because I really am a nerd.
I just finished reading “Al Capone Does My Shirts” by Gennifer Choldenko this week.
I’ve owned this book for about two years now and have never gotten around to reading it. I usually don’t read historical fiction, so other books kept getting in the way. But let me tell you, I regret not reading it sooner. It doesn’t read like a historical book at all, yet it is still historically sound with a lot of fascinating detail. But for a Sicilian girl from Chicago, reading about a boy who lives on the same island as Scarface himself was a lot of fun.
If you ever have the chance to visit Chicago, you have to make a little trip to St. Charles, about 40 miles west of downtown, to the Hideaway. It is this steakhouse/speakeasy that still has the ambiance of the prohibition years and even sports a stylish pair of cement shoes (actually dredged up from the nearby Fox River) on the front porch. It’s also kind of out of the way—okay, it’s really out of the way and can be hard to find—so it’s not a normal tourist destination. I mean, come on, who wouldn’t want to eat at the place Public Enemy No. 1 used to brew bootleg and host some of America’s most famous jazz musicians. Plus, the phone number to the place is 1-888-SCARFACE—I just want to dial that number for the fun of it.
(Note to self: Stop using words like totally, really and actually. If you think they are annoying in speech, think how much more permanent they are in writing.)
- Location:Rexburg, ID
More and more often I feel as though I spend al day trying to get something done but end up not finishing anything. I stayed up until 2 a.m. finishing homework that I was planning on doing this weekend but took a back-seat to more important things. Yet, today, I still had to read a chapter for my creative writing class right before class started, finish writing an essay for my math class that still isn't done, catch up on two weeks worth of geology labs that I haven't had time to even look at yet, finish reading a novel for my fiction class that--you guessed it!--I still haven't finished.
So that begs the question, what am I doing blogging when I could be doing homework? But I have been doing homework ALL DAY and I need a break.
Another question that brings up is what am I doing writing a four-page academic paper for my 100-level math class about Georg Cantor? And don't worry, the teacher reminded us that we have to follow APA formatting including margins and citations and use at least five academic sources. Not only do we have to write the essay, but we also have to explain one of Cantor's theories to someone not in our class and have them sign our essay affirming that we taught them about said theory. I still have two pages to write, and I've run out of things to say about infinity. Ugh!
Okay, I'm finished complaining, I promise.
I'm working on writing some short stories at the moment. I've always loved reading short stories, so I'm really excited to be writing some. I have files and files of short stories that have never before seen the light of day, but I feel the ones I am currently working on are really pushing me.
As I was driving around rural Idaho, I got this image of an old man who refuses to relinquish his farm life, and I began wondering why this man won't to move on though he is really too old to work his land. And why haven't his kids taken over for him? After getting out the first draft, I realized that I know nothing about potato farming nor about being a 73 year-old man who doesn't even own a computer. So this is where my journalism skills kick in. I've been interviewing everyone I know who has lived or worked on a potato farm, I'm researching irrigation techniques, farm equipment and faming philosophy, and I'm loving every minute of it.
Who would have thought a city-girl from the suburbs of Chicago would grow to love a 73 year-old potato farmer from Paul, Idaho? And whoever thinks writing fiction takes less time and research than writing nonfiction has no idea what they are talking about. I have spent twice as long researching this short story than I ever spent writing any newspaper article.
- Location:Rexburg, ID
Still no internet in the new apartment. Apparently the internet company the complex uses hates Macs, so I am in the David O. McKay library using a PC. I’m not sure what to do with my fingers on this odd keyboard and the new Window Vista.
Classes are actually going well. I impressed my math class by knowing that 20 percent of an hour and a half is 18 minutes, but now they all think I’m smart which worries me slightly.
My creative writing class is surprisingly fun although the professor is a poet. I can’t write a poem to save my life, but I’m now excited to try. The professor also asked us one of the dreaded questions of all time—What is your favorite book or author? I never know how to answer this question. Maybe with a question—Which genre? If I’m really pressed, I’ll tell people my favorite book is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. My favorite author at the moment is the ever wonderful Mo Willems; I say him because everyone is always surprised I love picture books, and he makes me laugh no matter how many times I read his books.
This guy that sits behind me in the creative writing class is a sculpture major who also has a passion for illustration.(I am always surprised at the diversity of writers but should really stop having that reaction because I know how divers books can be.) This guy wants to write an illustrated novel but has only gotten into reading the past couple of years. So he asked me for a book list. Ahh!
What should I recommend? Of course I’ll tell him about Mo, and Brian Selznick’s The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Would he like Lady Cottington's Pressed Fairy Book by Brian Froud and Terry Jones? But do I tell him about Nick Hornby and Carl Hiaasen? What about my favorite paranormal books? (Okay, I probably won’t give him a list of those.) How can I give a book list to someone I know nothing about?
Maybe I should invite him to be my friend on Goodreads so he can pick the recommendation list for himself.
We have a very varied group of writers. One member writes children’s nonfiction, three write totally different genres of YA fiction and one writes adult fiction. And then there’s me. I just love research. So I write historical fiction, historical nonfiction and newspaper features.
Here’s an example of one I wrote last year for a SLC music academy that teaches rock and roll lessons. I love interviewing people and finding out what makes them tick. These kids were some of my best interviewees, and I still go to their performances quite often.
Today was my last day at work. It’s kind of unnerving to know I won’t be working for the next three or four months, but that means I’ll be able to concentrate on my studies and writing. This will be a good thing for me, but I’ll really miss the kids at BSTA.
- Location:SLC
When I started taking music lessons again, I spent way too much money resorting my clarinet, buying new music, finding a great music teacher. Because I work at a school and get home about two hours before anyone else, I set aside an hour of that time each day to practice. And let me tell you, for about six months, I did just that. I was starting to actually feel comfortable with playing again when I started sluffing. I’d find little things to distract me or I’d go on a trip and not take my instrument. Then I got sick over Christmas and took about a month to get better. Then I got sick again for a couple of weeks. Now I haven’t played for about four months.
I get really gun ho about reading my scriptures or writing in my journal. I could be really consistent for years at a time, only to go cold turkey for the next year. It’s a good thing I’m not a smoker or a drinker—I’d be really great a quitting only to pick it up again five years down the line.
I went to college right after I graduated from high school and did really well my first year. Sure I took classes at three different colleges across the United States and I always struggled in the winter term, but I had scholarships and friends. Most of my professors liked me, and I could always find a good job doing in my field of study to help me stay afloat financially. But then with 10 credit hours to go, I dropped out. I tried doing Internet classes but could never find the motivation to finish them.
So now I’m leaving for school in just over a week, and I’m trying to stay on top of things. I’ve emailed my professors to get booklists and syllabi and advice. I calculated just how much time I will need to spend doing homework for each class each week (nine hours for media law compared to three hours for basic math). I even entered in all of the homework assignments and their due dates into my desktop calendar and drew up a weekly study and class schedule that includes “Free Time” and “Group Work.”
How long to you want to bet this will last? I give myself until midterm.
I think this personal pattern is what scares me the most about becoming a writer. I want it so bad, and maybe I’m even good at it. But will I stick with it? It’s not like I’m this lazy person who never finishes anything—I’ve done a lot of really cool things in my life, and most of my friends would even say I’m dependable. But it terrifies me to think I might not finish something I want so badly.
Here I have given myself until August to finish this manuscript. I really do have a good start on it, and I am constantly doing research and jotting down notes and running dialogue in my head. But in the back of my mind, this little voice keeps questioning if I will stick with it. Will I be able to come up with an ending? Do I have the ability to see it through? Can I keep coming up with scenes that will keep people engaged and new metaphors and similes that will keep the writing consistent?
This is one of those self-doubts I find hard to admit. I’m normally a really confident person, and I don’t admit to many personal weaknesses, especially in a public forum. But this one has me so concerned at times I find it all-consuming. Maybe I find myself needing a little validation. Or maybe if I really want this blog to be about my journey to becoming a published author, I feel I need to express the good and the bad.
Or maybe I’ve found more truth in Abraham Lincoln’s saying than I fist expected. “You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time.”
Am I trying to fool myself?
- Location:SLC
Web woes...
So my sister and I had this brilliant idea that we would start a blog where we could talk to each other and then post it for the world to see called The Slog (for sisters' blog). Okay, we know only our mom will ever look at it, but when you live 2,000 miles apart and haven't lived together for--let's see--more years than I car to admit, you have to find creative ways to stay in touch. So this has lead me on a wild internet chase to procure a domain, find a host and actually get the site working. I have done two of the three, but getting the site working is where I’m running into major trouble. I really need to find a man who could love a fat girl and spend his free time managing my Web site.
On to other things…
I’m getting ready to go back to school. Yes, at 26 I am going back to finish my one semester I never bothered to finish to obtain a degree I should have cared more about four years ago. But as I get ready to become a full-time student, I have realized I don’t want to leave my “reasonable adult” lifestyle behind. I have too many projects and friends and interests and responsibilities to just dump them all to go back to school. So instead I am prolonging the inevitable and dividing my time between the real world and school. I am so going to screw myself trying to do this. But I don’t see another way!
The real reason for this blog…
I wanted to start this blog because I want to be a writer. I’m not talking about this little childhood fantasy about writing a book someday and becoming this famous author. No, I mean it. I really want to write a book. And I have this great idea.
I’ve written about 10 books in my lifetime. The first was in second grade where these siblings are camping and fall into this wicked witch’s evil lair but manage to escape by using sheer intelligence and skills no teenagers truly possess. The second was a cheesy book in seventh/eight grade where a girl goes back in time to the Civil War to save a plantation and I don’t know what else (and yes, I know who ridiculous this sounds coming from a city girl from
And then I hit inspiration. I moved to
Then I got sucked into writing nonfiction for a living. After writing for several newspapers and attempting to break into the magazine industry, I put fiction aside for far too long. Then I stopped writing nonfiction and began desperately missing writing in general. So I joined a writers group to get me back on track with my nonfiction, but the fiction bug had bit again.
So for the past two months, I’ve been writing--really writing--fiction again. And I want to have a manuscript ready by the end of summer. So this blog is here to chronicle my life as an aspiring author. I’ve always wondered how writers become writers, and now you will hopefully be a part of my journey there. It might take years, or I might be the next Stephenie Meyer and get published within months, but I will be a writer.
And by the way, no stealing any of those story ideas. Who knows, maybe I’ll end up using them someday.
- Location:SLC
