Organically Speaking: Writing that Makes a Difference

Sorry I haven’t blogged in a while. I’m still recovering from the trip back home. Whenever I travel by myself, it’s always very interesting trying to manage my luggage. The irony of traveling with a bad back—you can’t travel light. Too many “peripherals” are necessary for maximum functionality. Or maybe I’m just a girl who likes to have wardrobe choices…

So to finish my library story. On Friday, I did in fact commandeer the microfilm reader, after stalking the front door of the library (remember the old Mervyn’s commercial—Open, Open, Open!) with another fellow researcher a few minutes before opening time. He was there early, too. I had a sense he might want the microfilm reader, so I moved closer to the door. He eyed me. I appeared nonchalant. The door opened and I made my move. I shoved my list of microfilm reels in the library workers’ hands as I listened to the other guy ask her to show him how to search the newspaper microfilm. She looked at me knowingly. My expression must have spoken volumes. She said she was going to let me go first since I’d been there yesterday trying to get on the machine. Yes! Sweet victory!

On another note, I was amazed to discover that absinthe was being served at a restaurant in San Diego within walking distance of my hotel. Since absinthe plays a key role in my novel, I decided to do some research on my own. I looked rather silly sitting by myself with a generous 3-oz pour of approximately 90-proof liquor (after diluted), taking pictures of the pretty colors… Needless to say, I didn’t finish it, as I needed to walk back to the hotel without falling down. But now I can say I know what it tastes like.

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I take my research very seriously.

But it is good to be back in Texas, where people open doors for you unbidden, and people say hello with a smile, just because they’re friendly. As much as I hate the fire ants and big squishy bugs and quirky weather and the occasional softball-size hail that comes with living in Tornado Alley, there really is no place like home.

I went through stacks and stacks of old photos and microfiche newspaper indices today. My mission is to return tomorrow so I can commandeer the only microfilm reader available at the archives library. When doing historical research, you should try to do it at the location where the story is set if at all possible. There are things you can’t possibly learn from surfing the Internet. Experienced research staff can help you find what you’re looking for much more quickly, and most of them even take joy in digging up obscure treasures for you.

So I’ve decided to go back to the Kubricky plain theme for now, so you can use the search function if you need to. Hopefully, I’ll have the old flower theme up and running soon.

Cheers!

Hey all,

I just noticed that the search function on the blog doesn’t seem to be working. Sorry! I guess it’s time for me to pull out my Wordpress for Dummies book again. I’ll try to figure it out and get back to you when I know more…

I think I ought to write a new self-help book entitled, How to Lose 5 Pounds and Tone Your Core Abs in Just 7 Days with the Upper Respiratory Illness Workout.

Seriously, being sick is getting really old. I’m at the point now where I still believe, but this is where the rubber meets the road. I am uncertain of the outcome of the book signing I’ve idealized as a writing milestone. I’ve visualized it, owned it, embraced it, and now—this. Will my voice be as I want it to be? Will I be able to control my hacking cough so as not to drive away the people who come to hear me read? I don’t know.

But as I sit here, housebound again because of dangerously high levels of ECT pollen (forecast to be high for the rest of the week), I realize that in order for this to be a success in my mind, I have to let go of the outcome, and I must focus on the journey. The experience itself of doing what I’ve dreamed of–setting a goal and achieving it. Whoever comes, will come. Whoever leaves, will leave. Whoever buys a book, will buy a book. I can’t write any of these outcomes by sheer willpower alone.

Jeremy Camp’s song, “I Still Believe” is playing on my stereo. My situation is not nearly as dire as his was, losing a spouse to cancer. But I think we all feel like the world is against us at times. We all feel discouraged and don’t know if we have the strength to keep holding our heads high. But “even when I don’t see, I still believe.”

What is your discouragement today? Whatever it is, hang onto hope, and believe.

Today, as I was sulking because I’m sick and my voice is completely gone and I can’t do anything I’d planned, I opened a care package from a friend of mine in Italy, filled with little holiday candies called torroncini. These sugary gems are made of nougat and pistachios and covered with different flavors of chocolate. Mmm-mmm. Christmas is, for me, incomplete without my torroncini, thoughtfully packaged and sent across the ocean every year from my friend.

This small gesture of appreciation and affection warms my heart and touches my soul. Here I am, rendered mute because of my illness, and a hand-written card and a few Italian sweets have totally made my day.

When was the last time you sent a handwritten note to someone? I think in this age of lightning-fast communications—email, texting, IM—we think that no one appreciates the impact of a hand-written missive. Not true. I save every hand-written card and note I receive, because I appreciate the time and effort it takes. It’s more personal, and it shows that you care.

Let’s all go back to pen and paper and write someone a note of thanks, encouragement, or friendship today. Who knows, you might end up making someone’s day.

Ok, so maybe testing out my new cold-weather cycling gear on New Year’s Day in 40-degree weather and what seemed like an Arctic Circle wind-chill factor was not such a good idea. I had a slight case of the “creeping crud,” a seasonal upper respiratory illness experienced by most North Texans because of the drastic temperature changes during the winter and the presence of the highly noxious pollen of the Mountain Cedars, hereafter known as ECTs (Evil Cedar Trees). But I thought I could handle it, so I got my gear on and started down my street into a frigid, nasty headwind. It was not pretty. I now have a much greater appreciation for cyclists everywhere.

So, today, on the day I have an interview and need to go out and market my booksigning, I  a) lose my voice and b) sound like I’m going to hack up a lung. Ah, the wondrousness of it all!

But no worries. Things will work themselves out. I will get my posters and flyers and bookmarks placed, maybe a little later than I’d planned, but it will happen. I’m surprisingly calm because I believe.

I believe.

I’m getting ready to do my first interview as a published author. The folks over at Relief Journal are going to do a blog piece on my success in securing venues for what has become my regional book signing tour. As I read over the questions posed to me, the reality that I am now a role model for others is a bit daunting. People want to know how I came by my success. Do I really have a good answer for that? Yes, but maybe not the answer they’re looking for.