Gone Fishin'

                                                                             

I'm at about the halfway point with my current work-in-progress, as yet officially unnamed. For kicks I call it Nancy, mostly because it's a novel that's kinda sorta got some elements of mystery - a la Nancy Drew. (If you don't know who she is you are obscenely young.) It's usually at this time in the creative process when I notice that the characters and I need a little break. By now, we've become well acquainted. Some of us are on our way to a lifelong friendship. While others of us will be more than happy to jump ship at the next nearest exit. Not to worry. The plot is still there. Still playing out through the mysterious combination of keyboard and muse. And the manuscript love, well naturally it's still flowing. Then what gives, you ask?
Simply put, Nancy and I just aren't so hot and heavy for one another at this moment. No, we don't need emergency manuscript therapy, religious intervention or a dose of Dr. Phil. Nor do we require the honeymoon suite and unlimited supplies of cheap champagne. We need a time out. 
Nancy (as a collective group) and I have hung the sign. Gone Fishin'. We're taking a breather in order to refresh and reload our batteries. Typically what I'll do with this time is dive into a good book and meet some new people. No, Nancy, that doesn't mean I'll forget you and no, you'll never be replaced.
It's merely for inspirational recharge. It was Ernest Hemingway who said:
I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it. 
So for today, tonight and possibly tomorrow, Nancy and I will part ways. And before long we'll be at it once again. With me willingly, excitedly filling the pages of her story, giving life and action to her cause. It's a writers way. Bait and all. Worms anyone?

Mama Said There'd be Days Like This

Disclaimer: I love my mom.

Let's face it. Call a spade a spade. People originating from a certain era (say somewhere around circa 1940 give or take) sometimes aren't the most tech savvy individuals. This isn't an example of ageism. It's merely a fact. At least it's the case in my family. Take my mother, for example. She tries, bless her heart. And after about a year  or so of fiddling with the "dang dopey internet mail" I think she might finally be getting the hang of it. I think.
Or not...

So I called her the other day to see if she wanted to check out an author interview I gave here: http://iamareadernotawriter.blogspot.com/2011/10/author-interview-book-giveaway-wishless.html  and we had this exact conversation.

"Hi Mama. I forwarded you a link to an interview I did online. Check your email."

"Oh, dear. I can't."

"Why not, Ma?"

"I forgot my passcode."

"It's password and I thought you wrote it down."

"I did but I can't remember where I put it."

"Well, Ma, there's a way for you to reset it. Just follow the prompts."

"Oh, dear. That sounds confusing."

"No, Ma, it's not really. Okay forget that. We'll go at this another way I'll tell you how to find it. Go to your search bar."

"Oh, dear."

"It's that long open line way up at the top of the screen, Ma."

"I went there once. It wasn't pretty."

"You really have to make your peace with the world wide web, Ma."

"The what?"

"It's what the www stands for."

"Well I'l be darned. Isn't that clever? Look dear I have a pot roast in the oven. Why don't you just tell me what channel the interview is on and I'll watch it later."

"No, Mama it isn't on a channel. It's a website and you can't watch it you have to read it."

"Oh, dear."

"What is it now, Ma?"

"I forgot where I put my reading glasses."

"Okay then. My work here is done. Goodnight, Ma."

"Goodnight, dear."