WHY SO EXCITED?

Aren’t you so EXCITED?!  Of course you are!  At least it certainly seems you ought to be, considering that when you skim the news feed on FB, stop by to read a blog post here and there as you cruise through cyberspace, noiselessly tip-toe through twitter, it’s pretty much everywhere. Excitement, and lots of it.  Can we really be this Excited so much of the time?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m right there with you  to blow-up the balloons and toss the confetti in celebration of those occasions, announcements, and achievements of high excitement.  You’ve just gotten a new agent, your book is/will be published, you won the Nobel Prize? Absolutely that’s EXCITING stuff. In fact, pardon me while I dash off and bake you a cake …

EXCITEMENT OVERLOAD

In truth, it’s not the overabundant use of the word EXCITED that has me grousing, it’s the observation that maybe there’s far too much EXCITEMENT being tossed around, and quite possibly we’ve gotten a wee bit lazy with our word-ology.

Okay, so if you’ll hold your excitement for just a moment, I will make my point by serving up some suitable, and yes, EXCITING alternates courtesy of the every handy-dandy desk thesaurus:

EXCITE: inspire; upset, accelerate, agitate, amaze, anger, animate, annoy, arouse, astound, awaken, bother, chafe delight, disturb, electrify, elicit, energize, evoke, fire, fluster, foment (huh?) galvanize, goad, incite, induce, inflame, infuriate, instigate, intensify, irritate, jolt, kindle, madden, mock, move, offend, precipitate, provoke, rouse, start, stimulate, stir up, taunt, tease, thrill, titillate, vex, warm, worry …

Clearly, it’s nothing if not a thoroughly lazy exercise in word usage  to so often default to the generic EXCITED when we have such a diverse menu to choose from.

IF YOU’LL PARDON MY EXCITEMENT

Over here in my little corner of the world, this first half of 2012 has seen more than a few truly exciting astounding milestones. 

AND SO, A FEW EXCITING STIMULATING HIGHLIGHTS

1. Child #3 graduated with honors from Tulane University in New Orleans this past spring.

Aside from the “official requirement” that we pack up the jalopy and head off to one of my very favorite cities in order to attend said graduation, there is the deeply personal excitement fire of waving my third child off into the world with college degree in hand as she pursues her hearts desire. (Not to mention that by graduating with honors, I am assured that my darling girl did indeed resist the temptations of Bourbon Street and perpetual Mardi Gras well enough to open her books and work hard when necessary.) Certainly every parent thrills at such achievements in the lives of their children, but for those who, like me, carried their own Ivy League dreams straight from High School to enrollment at the University of Real Life, (although to my credit, I paid attention, studied hard, and did my homework along the way to earning a self-awarded doctorate) there mighty milestones elicit high levels of excitement animation.

2. Child #4 completed his Boy Scout Eagle Project this summer. Yes, absolutely the stuff that makes a mama proud, but there is something infinitely exciting stimulating in witnessing a 16 year old boy take a mighty step toward manhood by proving he is far more than an eating, sleeping, video game playing entity (cue Dr Frankenstein as his creature comes to life, “IT’S ALIVE!!!!”), by willingly shouldering the necessary design, planning, fund raising, labor, and responsibilities necessary to accomplish a mighty and highly ambitious project. In this case, by metamorphising a neglected Memorial plaque on a boulder dedicated to WW II veterans, into a beautiful memorial garden complete with archway, benches, brick walkway, flag pole, night-time lighting, and plantings. So yeah, this is one of those things that truly excites  inflames my pride receptors.

3. I am a shiny new Grandmother (or Mimi, if you happen to be Baby Sebastian.)!!!  Although I’ve only been wearing this newbie title for 4 days now, it fits quite nicely and feels especially comfy. To those of you who are grandmothers, have a grandmother, long to be a grandmother, I needn’t elaborate on how over-the-moon, EXCITED ANIMATED I am now, and will forever be.

4. Having weathered the accustomed angst, turmoil, and brain strain hairpulling, sulking, whining of writing, I now have a mostly official date penned on the calendar for the release of my latest novel, Asleep Without Dreaming. (September 18, 2012. Woo woo!) If you’re a writer, no elaboration necessary.  If you’re a reader, I hope pray, gnash teeth, cross fingers that you’ll consider climbing into your favorite comfy chair with my book and while away an afternoon. After mucho years of scribbling out these chapters, my EXCITEMENT supreme sense of electrification is near blinding.

AND SO

What exactly does all this word-muddling prove, you ask?  Probably that EXCITE, EXCITING, EXCITED, are pretty good words.  Because, shoot, we really are  EXCITED! And for good reason. EXCITEMENT is a feel good, done good, bring on the parade, perfect fit of a word.  Accept no substitutes imitators that sound really awkward and stupid. I might be inflamed, animated, fired up and stimulated, but mostly I’m EXCITED, by golly! EXCITED, EXCITED!

EXCITED is life at it’s finest and nothing quite expresses it like good old tried-and-true EXCITED EXCITEMENT! 

So what’s got you Excited lately?  It’s fun to share, please do 😀

*Hoping you don’t mind my adding a fleeting dash of EXCITEMENT by announcing that my debut novel The Secret of Lies will be FREE on Kindle August 2 – August 3 in celebration of the near-release of Asleep Without Dreaming 😀

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Hair of the Dog

As You May Recall,

I have something of a fascination with Idioms.  You know, those expressions that are near ancient in origin, which we toss out often enough to assure their permanence in the rhelms of common language.  And yet, when we take a moment to think about what it is we’re actually saying, uh well, What actually are we saying?

For starters, just how guilty are you of  Letting the Cat out of the Bag?  I know I’ve done it more times than I care to publicly admit. Or, maybe not, considering the true meaning of this odd little phrase. Let the Cat out of the Bag:  Possibly related to the fact that in England in the Middle Ages, piglets were usually sold in bags at markets. Sometimes, someone would try to cheat a buyer by putting a cat in one of the bags instead of a piglet. And if someone let the cat out of the bag, the fraudster’s secret was revealed.

And when was the last time your mother, husband, or BFF had to corner you with this particular admonishment:  Get off Your High Horse: Medieval soldiers and political leaders bolstered their claims to supremacy by appearing in public in the full regalia of power, and mounted on large and expensive horses, thus presening themselves as larger than life. The combination of the imagery of being high off the ground when mounted on a great war charger, looking down one’s nose at the common herd, and also being a holder of high office made it intuitive for the term ‘on one’s high horse’ to come to mean ‘superior and untouchable.’

Is it possible that a  little Moderation might be just the thing to keep the dog hair off your tongue:  Hair of the dog is a colloquial expression in the English language predominantly used to refer to alcohol that is consumed with the aim of lessening the effects of a hangover. The expression originally referred to a method of treatment of a rabid dog bite by placing hair from the dog in the bite wound. The use of the phrase as a metaphor for a hangover treatment dates back to the time of William Shakespeare, when it was a popular belief that “a few hairs of the dog that bit you applied to the wound will prevent evil consequences.” Applied to drinks, it means, if overnight you have indulged too freely, take a glass of the same wine within 24 hours to soothe the nerves. “If this dog do you bite, soon as out of your bed, take a hair of the tail the next day.”

As a kid I thought this sounded like a fun idea, but only because I believed real animals were involved:  The term Kangaroo Court may have been popularized during the California Gold Rush of 1849. The first recorded use is from 1853 in a Texas context. It comes from the notion of justice proceeding “by leaps”, like a kangaroo. The phrase is considered an Americanism.

Sadly familiar because it’s practiced so often: Lying through your teeth:  This also may be an expression describing the act of lying with a smile or other patronizing tone or body language.  It is very old, traceable to the early 1300’s.

So, what’s the most oft used idiom in your language closet? Do you know what it really means, or do simply enjoy it for it’s familiarity and the fact that regardless of true meaning everyone tends to “get it” when you say it?

The Best Laid Plans … Yeah, Right!

It goes something like this …

When it comes to the nuts and bolts of real life, I can’t help but believe that the medicine goes down better when accompanied by a well laid plan spoonful of sugar.  Whether it be a mental list (Bahahahaha, yeah right! What kind’ve bone-head boob would rely on such foolish tactics!) or a tidy inventory laid out on paper– complete with bullet points–I’m all about planning.  Not that all my plans see fruition, it’s more about the fact that having a plan makes me feel fools me into thinking that I have a safety net in position at those times when real life comes along and attempts to blow the post-its off the refrigerator.

Did I mention my delusional tendencies?

Plans are admirable and good, even necessary at times, and yet, to believe they are ironclad or accident proof is to be mighty disappointed delusional.  The hard, cold, nails-down-the-chalkboard-truth, my friends?  Real Life Trumps The Best Laid Plans. 

For example (and I have so many I will make an effort to curb myself from dumping an avalanche here), I never fail to compose a grandiose list of New Year’s resolutions on or about January 1st, ready to sprint out the gate the moment the countdown ends, the ball drops, and I can *officially* crawl into my sparkly new and improved skin.

Make no mistake, I’m no lightweight

Which isn’t to say that I am simply a composer of abundant schemes and flowing designs–no ma’am, not this runaway chicken. To my credit, I stockpile ammo, suit-up, dig-in, and prepare for the long haul. I aim high, because I don’t know any better somewhere deep inside my rock hard head, I’ve succeeded in convincing tricking myself into believing that I’m up for the task and ready to vault over the wall at a moments notice.

My proposed lead into 2012 was no exception. Grand planner that I am, I prepared early, toiled over my intentions,scratched some, and elevated others.  It was an admittedly rosy start and I had a good run. All things orderly, neat, and infinitely promising for nearly a week.  Right up to the moment when the clown car pulled-up  and stormed the castle.

And so …

What happens when THE BEST LAID PLANS step out for a smoke, take a powder, leave the building? Well, duh, for starters you need to make new ones.  You rethink, regroup, refocus.  Because here’s the thing, the reason REAL LIFE trumps all variety of planning is because REAL LIFE is the big ticket, the hot tamale, the Leprechaun’s lucky charms. Whereas PLANS are more akin to those unintelligible instructions that come inside the box of high-quality-assemble-it-yourself furniture (why does it look like a coffee table when you’re supposed to be constructing a chest of drawers???), equal to the odds of winning more than two dollars on a scratch-off lottery ticket or waking up to find Brad Pitt scrambling eggs in your kitchen.

Say What?

Simply put, PLANS are good. They help us streamline, focus, accomplish. But still, there are plenty of times when REAL LIFE has its own PLANS and we’re left feeling as if there’s a runaway tractor trailer barreling straight through the center of our life.  Just as there are nevertheless moments when an even better PLAN comes along and trumps the seemingly perfect one you scribbled on the back of the cocktail napkin or jotted in the margin of the newspaper.

Um hum, REAL LIFE, it’s what’s for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

And you? Are you a planner? How often do you defer to Real Life without a knock-down, drag-out fight?

The Octopus Knows- Round Robin #8

The Octopus Knows – Part 8

And so here it is my turn to write an installment of the progressive story, The Octopus Knows, originally conceived and created by the always inventive, Laird Sapir. I admit it’s a wee bit intimidating to contemplate this increasingly sticky predicament that Ninja and Simon now find themselves in, and I can only hope my writing brain kicks in to nudge our conflicted heroes in the right direction.  After seven very creative installments to-date, the most recent by Ellen Gregory (links to all installments can be found on Laird’s round robin page) we find the heinously kidnapped Ninja being held hostage in a whirlpool tub, and Simon foolishly fishing in his unflushed toilet with his toothbrush in order to recover the card containing the address of  Braden–aka Ninja’s unscrupulous kidnapper.

As we left off:

A minute later, staring at the soggy card covered with illegible watery blue ink, Simon reflected this wasn’t his finest hour. The address couldn’t be read, his wand was in the toilet, Braden had Ninja and Mr Jones was on his way to claim him.

For the first time in over a year, Simon’s immediate inclination isn’t to eat something; although it’s possible that his reluctance to self medicate with a fistful of Oreos has less to do with any sense of renewed discipline, as it relates to the distasteful condition of the card he now held in his hand.

He dropped the paper to the floor and gently laid the wand in the sink before turning the handle on the faucet to the far left–watching as the water gushed warm, then hot, over the wand.

Okay,so maybe this was it.  This was what it felt like to hit the wall at full force. He’d spent the entire past year overeating in an attempt to forget, and yet an expanding waistline had done little to dim the pain. Nothing had changed, and now Jones was back in town, towing  Marguerite like a shipwreck that gravity should’ve sunk long ago.  No question, that dame was resilient. She had no qualms about baring her fangs when cornered, and yet, in a strange way, Simon thought he might even admire her tenacity.  He wished he could say the same about himself.  But instead he’d gone soft. Traded his soul for a Twinkie.

The truth was that whatever Braden had written on the card didn’t matter. Simon knew where to find Ninja–the very place he’d long promised himself to never return. What’s more, whether he liked it or not–and he sure as hell didn’t–he somehow had to stuff himself back into those damned pants or otherwise risk losing Ninga.

And the bag–he needed to grab the bag from where he’d stashed it at the back of the refrigerator behind the gracefully molding cheese, praying hard and fast that the meticulously wrapped package inside hadn’t expired.

Steam now billowed up from the sink and with a hard twist on the faucet handle, Simon shut off the water and grabbed the wand from the sink.  He didn’t have much time and every instant was crucial. His fingers quivered like jello on bone as he attempted to handle the wand with essential care–turning the still hot tip in his fingers as he unscrewed it from the shaft.  Separating the two sections, he slid the slender glass vile encased inside into his palm. And he didn’t stop to consider risk or consequence as he popped off the lid and upended the contents onto his tongue.

Far off,  on the other end of town, Ninja’s eyes blinked open as the water in the tub all at once began churning, rolling, sloshing wildly.  A high pitched girlish scream that could only be Braden, broke loose beyond the closed bathroom door.  

With all eight tentacles reaching to grasp the edge of the tub, Ninja held tight to keep from being pitched onto the tile floor.  And if he’d had a set of lips instead of a beak he would’ve smiled.  He almost couldn’t believe it.  At long last it looked like his boy Simon had grown a set.  High time to lock and load, baby …

To be continued…

And now I respectfully pass the keyboard to Carrie Dawes 😀  Stay tuned!

Positively Peevish

Lest anyone assume I woke-up this morning  wearing my Grouchy Pants or have overindulged on a breakfast of Cranky Flakes, allow me to clarify that I am actually quite jolly and chipper as is most often the case in the AM hours–before the real world comes along to slap me in the face and wring-the-merry from my smiley face.

Nevertheless, there are those things that gnaw and grate.  Drive-by moments that come along to poke and  irritate, despite all good intentions. That rub against the conscience–sometimes in the background, other times in the forefront–but always there somewhere, ready to jump and churn at the first not so gentle nudge.

It started this morning with a Styrofoam coffee cup on my neighbors lawn. I spied it from my kitchen window.  A startling, heinously deposited object of stark, non-bio degradable  ugliness discarded on Mr. R’s hard-earned and carefully tended square of sod heaven.  The sight of which launched me directly into Peeve #1:

Littering boobs who seem to think trash cans were designed as unnecessary ornamentation.  Honestly, but I despise litter in all of its hideous forms. No excuses or attempts at rationalization accepted. It’s disgusting.

It is in fact the aforementioned despicable crime that leads me directly into this companion peeve to #1, which is Peeve #2:

Pet owners who walk their dogs (purposely steered their pooches beyond the bounds of their own neighborhood) with the deliberate intent of “Poop and Run.”  No doubt you’ve seen them, bag-less dog walkers who pick-up speed should they spy a previously unobserved witness to their dastardly deeds.

Of course thoughts of pooping naturally lead me to considerations of eating, thus Peeve #3:

Foods with healthy sounding names that are anything but healthy.  For example Nutri-Grain, or the uber appealing Nature Valley.  A wise choice for those in pursuit of  good health?  ACK!!!!  NO! NO! Lies, all lies!  Both contain Fructose (HIGH Fructose in some cases.)  Fructose, as many of you know, is the REIGNING DEVIL of bad horrifying  ingredients. To quote Dr. Mercola of #1 Natural Health Website, “Fructose is the NUMBER ONE source of calories in the US.  An ingredient that is found in virtually all processed foods cannot be considered “moderate.” Even most infant formulas contain the sugar equivalent of one can of Coca-Cola, which helps explain how six-month old babies can be obese.”  I realize that not everyone cares to be known as the Food Nazi, as my own wiseacre family has titled moi, but Jeezaloo, how about food manufactures ease-up on the blatant trickery toward consumers who really do care to improve their diets and chose wisely. If it says NATURE or NUTRI on the label it should be a rule that, yeah,  it really is. (BTW, a good rule to keep in mind when scanning the ingredient panel–beware the “toses,” they’re all stinkers. Aka, Fructose, Maltose, Sucrotose, etc.)

Needless to say, such talk of devious deception leads me straight into  Peeve#4:

People who lecture against talking Religion and Politics and then do so themselves. You know the type. They make a grandiose point of their peacekeeping rule of excluding those potentially one thousand percent quarenteed heat producing topics from all social conversation, but then proceed to poke sharpened and poisonous barbs into aforementioned gentle and purposely civil conversation.  I think it’s safe to say that the majority of us have very strong opinions of Religion & Politics, thus there are generally no allowances for slip-in, snide references, or drop and run deliveries (see Peeve #2) of said topics.

Okay,okay, simmer down, I hear ya. Enough of the cyber whining– I get it.  Still, I know you have plenty of peeves yourself.  I can hear them knocking around in your head, so  here’s your chance to pass them along (and maybe even get a soothing touch of sympathy). Large, small, or passionately festering, the floor is now open. Let er rip  😀

Free — But At What Cost?

 

My Dad has always been fond of sharing the caveat that “Nobody ever gave away anything worth having for free.”

(Dad is not a writer, store manger, or Mary Kay Consultant.)

Really? Are high price tags an accurate assessment of quality?  Is FREE really just another name for junk?

Okay, then, what’s the deal with FREE?

No question, there’s plenty of free crap stuff being offered around these days, but it’s good to remember that when it comes to free, it is definitely not a case of ONSIZE FITS All.  For instance, a well intentioned  assessment of FREE would be to consider it as something of a birth announcement– “Lookie lookie, see my newborn pride and joy, isn’t she a beauty?”

There are of course certain degrees of free, but in order for FREE to serve it’s intended purpose of “Try it, you’ll like it,” the object in question needs to be compatible with the hype, or at least good enough to keep everyone from whispering that you have an absolutely hideous baby.

The extender of FREE has to keep in mind that they are in fact aiming a spotlight that will show all the seams and dangling threads in their garment.  So while you may be offering something for FREE, you as the giver, must wholeheartedly believe it’s actually worth a million bucks. Thus, in order for FREE to translate into true love and future sales where dollars are exchanged and bank accounts padded, this FREE something must ideally translate into being delicious, memorable, or decidedly unforgettable.

For instance, those FREE food samples many of us are so fond of, I ask you, is that friendly food sample server at  Trader Joe’s serving up bottom-of-the-freezer-ignored-to-death items that otherwise haven’t sold?  Does the store manager think that offering free samples is a genius plan for cleaning out the soy cocktail weenies wrapped in seaweed that nobody is buying? ” (Note, that such reasoning as they apply to our at home food stuffs do not in any way relate to the discussion at hand, and such methods are not necessarily wrong or otherwise discouraged.)  Or, is it actually that someone in the Trader Joe’s empire is banking on a hunch that one miniature taste of Asiago or Sundried Tomato Chicken Sausage will lead to true and forever love? (Btw, YES, YES it will!)

At their best, FREE samples allow us to taste the new foodie treats coming on the scene before making the commitment to buy; slather on the coconut oil lotion to see if it really does  make us look ten years younger; read an unknown author’s work to determine if their words nest comfortably in our brains.  All this without ever having to make a commitment!

And yet, why then, all the hostility and distrust toward some FREE items, eBooks being a prime example. There have been more than a few scathing comments made in regard to free book promotions and ongoing rants about crappy books crowding the market and causing enormous literary jams when crossing the street contrare to traditionally sold books.  Is it really true that if something is free there must be something wrong with it?  That anything of value warrents a price tag?

I think the answer resides within the actual purpose of FREE.  With food it’s about engaging taste-buds, while with personal products, winners are those that deliver visible results (or that smell really really good.).  And when it comes to books, well maybe it’s not as convoluted or diabolical as it might appear to some.

First the disclaimer, YES, there are some hideous, ghastly, and retch worthy books turning up in the FREE zone, but lets keep in mind that there are plenty of the same with a price tag on the cover.  Consider that an author offering a book for FREE is most often doing so because their name is not Stephen King, thus having their moniker on the spine of a book means diddly-doo to the book buying public, and they might as well be the invisible man peddling face cream. But that’s not even the most important thing, because first and foremost is an author’s passionate faith fingers crossed prayerful hope that once experienced, their books will no longer simply be a love story waiting to happen, but rather a lifetime commitment.

And if it doesn’t? If the sparks fail to ignite and an a reader feels compelled to break-off the engagement and return to taking out other blind dates?  No problem!  It’s painless and easy to DELETE what doesn’t entice or appeal, because, hey, it was FREE to begin with.

What do you think of FREE? Love, hate,  or distrust it?

Lucky 7

HIGH ROLLING LUCKY  SEVEN

The always fabulous Tami Clayton has tagged me in the writing game, “The Lucky 7 Meme.”

Thanks Tami!

These are the rules–because of course there are rules:

1. Go to page 77 of your current MS/WIP
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines, sentences, or paragraphs, and post them as they’re written.
4. Tag 7 authors, and let them know.

So this is my pg.77, line 7 — next 7 lines, from the bajillionth draft of my current work in progress, a Mainstream Literary novel with some really long sentences:

Incredible!  There it is.  Right in front of her.

Her legs peddle fast and furious, twin beaters churning the air, ancient rubber tires slapping the uneven pavement in complaint, her insides rolling and crashing like waves as she closes the distance.  Someone is shouting—then a woman’s high-pitched wail—the hysterical squall going on and on until all at once obliterated by the approaching fire engines careened across town from the station several blocks away.  The steady bleat of sirens cracking open the night and swallowing every other sound.

Willa drops the bicycle on its side, not caring where it falls; her feet dragging lead as she moves closer, eyes wide and staring in an attempt to fully absorb this terrible thing she sees.

 

And now, quick, while they’re not looking, this is me tagging the next Lucky 7:

DB Smith

Sheri De Grom

Catherine Margaret Johnson

Richard Monro

Marian Pearson Stevens

SJ Driscoll

Helen McMullin

Okay, fellow scribes, show us your 77, 7, 7 😀  (Keep in mind, if your not up to page 77 and you still want to play, you can use page 7 for your 7 lines.)

My Man Rocky

Have you ever considered what character, fictional or real, would most fit the role of a movie about your life?

No doubt it’s not an especially easy choice to make, and it would likely require a casting call of thousands to find a persona close enough to fit the gazillion nuances of quirk and personality that make you, you. But lets say we do manage to narrow it down just enough to produce your life on movie screen.  Who are you?

So yeah, I am Rocky, but of course you easily saw that coming.  It’s not like I didn’t give you any clues 😀

I’m crazy about Rocky.  The battered, bloody, but nevertheless triumphant Rocky, to be precise.  I love his story, yes, but even more so, I am Rocky

Am I suggesting that I don’t clearly enunciate when I speak, or that I have pecs of steel?  Um, well no, not exactly.  My love of Rocky goes far deeper than those super-pumped, stand-up-and-cheer, fight scenes.

For me, this valiant underdog best personifies my own knock-down, drag-out travails as a writer. High drama? Exaggeration? Not so much, because for anyone who has undertaken a similar journey of the heart, you know where this is coming from. It’s rough, sometimes hostile, often frustrating, and downright mean.  Yet, even then, stronger and far superior to the pummeling afforded by these exterior obstacles, are the true and far more durable strengths of hope, faith, belief, and yes absolutely, perseverance.Rocky’s story appeals on multiple levels. While nearly everyone who looks at him might see an ordinary, uninspiring, nondescript nobody, he nevertheless holds to his dream and keeps on standing tough when the blows of life – and later Apollo Creed – continue raining down.  It isn’t just that Rocky is a dreamer (dreamers after all are as common as fleas on a dog), it’s that he’s a dreamer with unshakable purpose, dedication, and a persistence strong enough to allow him to gulp down a daily tonic of raw eggs, pummel frozen beef carcases, and keep on standing when the blows come the hardest.

(Of equal note is the actual story of how Rocky creator, writer, and actor, Sylvester Stallone, held on against the power and $$$ of Hollywood to get his movie made with his vision intact. Inspiring in a BIG way!)

Yes, we start with a dream, but at the dawn of each day it’s all about staying the course and going the distance.

So who are you? Give us your character 🙂

Share The Love–Please!

The Truth of the Matter

No question, it’s rough out there. No matter what it is you’re doing, whether, butcher, baker, or candlestick maker, there are those days when it feels like you’re just treading water to stay afloat.

Oh, yeah, and then there are writers …

With the number of newly published books flooding the market somewhere in the range of 400,000 yearly (Subject to change–oh, did you hear that?  It just did.), it’s a far from easy task for the majority of books to find their place in the sun. Truth be told, if I shared the actual figures –the percentage of books that float opposed to those that sink–well, fugedaboudit–it’s NOT pretty.  Although please note that the ones that sink don’t necessarily do so because they’re lousy. Very often, it’s that no one knows they exist. Such is the life of one lovely little fish in an overstocked pond.

Honestly, it’s disheartening–as in, not gentle to the heart.  Sure, there are tips and suggestions aplenty for revving your engines in hot pursuit of the world’s attentions and subsequently turning heads onto your book, but that doesn’t eliminate the hotly debated question of which magic formula actually works, as opposed to those that will merely register on the scale of wishful thinking.

Let the Party Begin

Okay, then, lets say your friend, mother, pastor, mailman, or baby brother, is the proudly exuberant author of a newly published book.  Aside from sharing a glass of champagne and enjoying a second piece of cake at the book party, what might you do to assist them in defying the odds, not to mention the dreaded post publication blues when the grand ticker-tape release day has come and faded away as predictably as your kids after supper when it’s time to clean-up the kitchen?

Curl Up With a Friend–Better Yet –A Friend’s Book!

For starters, if you haven’t read the book, it’s VERY nice to consider doing so. (With extra points for actually buying your own copy. Double for buying a second copy as a gift and passing it on.) And once you do, how about taking that extra step of letting the author know you did. Don’t assume they will just KNOW that you took the time and effort, because they won’t. Despite anything you might’ve seen on your favorite TV show, mental telepathy is not only unreliable–it generally DOESN’T work.

That you enjoyed their book is precisely the sort of thing an author needs to know, because it matters. It matters a lot. Just as your opinion does. Good, bad, or hideously ugly, your thoughts count. Share them generously, although if you genuinely despised, abhorred, hated disliked the book, you might want to hold back a little as it applies to random public discussions. In short, singing from the rooftops is good, screaming in horror is not. This is the time to follow your mother’s advice, “If you don’t have anything good to say … ”
Share the Joy

However, if you truly enjoyed a book, regardless of whether it’s authored by friend, associate, or absolute stranger, consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads, mention it on Twitter, and Facebook after you’ve waxed poetic over that hilarious stunt your cat pulled this morning, even recommend it to your book group. Bottom line, tell people about it. Shine a little light in a very crowded room — which by the way, is still the most effective means of marketing there is. Grassroots. Pass it on.

Honestly, it’s that simple. If you love a writer, let them know. Let us all know.

Firecrackers, Balloons, Champagne, & Flares For a Friend

And so here’s my pre-Valentine Day spotlight– shining on writer friend and fellow blogger, April Ross Plummer, whose shiny new novel Coming Home debuts even as I type this!  And yes, I will celebrate the moment with her (who doesn’t love a party!). I’ll read it, review it, and pass the word. Love, it’s good karma 🙂 Pass it on!

Loved a writer recently? Let them know, and let us know about your favorite good reads in the comments below 🙂

PIPE DOWN, WILL YA!

Say What? 

Do you ever wonder why we say the things we do?  Not necessarily the open-mouth-insert-foot class of speech, but rather, idioms.  Those oh-so-familiar and oft used expressions that have been around so long and are such a part of everyday speech, yet, in many cases we haven’t a clue where they came from.

Sure, we generally know what someone is getting at when we hear these phrases, but do we really know what they mean? And then there’s the question of what these ancient nuggets are doing sitting smack in the midst of  our modern language.  Yes, there are any variety of nuances being added to our common tongue on a regular basis, but who’s to say what their actual lifespan will be?

It’s those expressions that have held on for decades, and in many cases centuries, that fascinate.  Consider the fact that so much of what we say doesn’t necessary make a lot of sense by definition, and yet we continue to use these phrases simply because they are so effective for expressing whatever it is we’re getting at.

Kicked the Bucket

We’ve all said or heard this one. And there’s no guessing over the implication when we receive the news that someone has Kicked the Bucket, but seriously?  What the heck does death have to with kicking buckets? And will such an action actually kill you?  A common theory is that this idiom comes from a method of execution such as hanging, or perhaps suicide, in the Middle Ages. A noose is tied around the neck while standing on an overturned bucket. When the pail is kicked away, the victim is hanged. Okay, so that would make plenty of sense in The Middle Ages!  But now?  Not so much.

The Apple of One’s Eye

A very nice thing to be back in the time when it was written, and still revelent today. A perfectly charming sentiment that comes from the Holy Bible, Psalms, 17:8

Need That Like a Hole in The Head?

Nope?  Well neither do I, considering  that the meaning is, Something so ridiculous that I definitely don’t want it. ( The expression originated as slang in the 1940′s.)

PIPE DOWN!

And asking screaming at someone to Pipe Down takes on a whole new meaning when you consider that the expression is rooted from the high seas back when boats had to blow whistles to send signals. The signals could mean “turn in” and “lights out.

Tempest in a Teapot

Tempest in a teapot, which dates back to the 1st Century BC, is an idiom meaning a small event that has been exaggerated out of proportion.  (Who even knew they were making tea in teapots back in the 1st century! Yes, well, I get it, many of you DID know that, but it’s news to me.)

Raining Cat’s and Dogs

There are several guesses as to how this one came about, but none more bizarre then this (which of  course explains why it’s the the one I chose to repeat here.) Nobody knows for certain where the phrase ‘it’s raining cats and dogs’ comes from, though one possibility is that it originates from the 17th century in England when heavy rains would cause debris of all kinds, including animals, to wash out of the gutters. Eweeee …

And a word to the wise, A Stitch in Time Saves Nine

 The stitch in time is simply the sewing up of a small hole in a piece of material and so saving the need for more stitching at a later date, when the hole has become large. Clearly, the first users of this expression were referring to saving nine stitches. Well, heck, you see,  that’s just common sense, isn’t it?

To be continued in next weeks installment of, Idioms for Dummies 🙂

We use them. We might even love them. So what are some of your favorites?