It's no secret that I haven't been writing lately. Not that I haven't wanted to, but usually by the typical writing hour at night, I am either fast asleep (snoring according to DH) or bleary eyed.

So today while being a whirling dirvish around the home throwing out as much crap as possible to make room for all the lovely new baby stuff, I came across my "writing box". Not that there was much in there except for five or six started notebooks. Then I decided to check out my "writing notebooks"...and that is when I made the worst discovery.

Apparently, I never printed out my 2007 NANO novel, which was one of my favorites. I must have been too busy puking or reeling from my discovery that I was pregnant. I did find out the good news three-quarters into the month. Problem is....the novel is on the desk top's hard drive, the desk top that died two months ago. Yes, my friends, not only did I write what I considered to be a good first draft of a novel....it is lost in hard drive hell.

So, if you'd be so kind....if you know how to recover it off the Nano website, that would be awesome, if that is possible at all.

And if you can't advise there....please...do share what it takes to get yourselves writing again.

Fondly,
The Grim Weaping Writer

After last weekend's debauchery, I had to go grocery shopping. Upon entering my somewhat local A&P I couldn't help but notice how many people were carrying these decorative bags, some in their carts, others clutching them in their fists. When I went to the checkout I had to ask the woman behind me what they were for....she didn't speak English very well and I'm afraid I made her a little uncomfortable. It might have been the Vlad's Stake House shirt I was wearing.

Apparently several of the supermarkets in Jersey have joined together to sell reusable grocery bags in a variety of colors and designs. What a cool idea! I always hate the way the plastic bags either rip on the way up three flights of stairs or multiply in my closet because I feel I need to keep them for some reason. So I bought a pretty purple, pleasant pink, and smiling blue bag with nature scenes for $3.00. The trick is to one: keep them in my car and two: remember to take them out when I walk into the grocery store. But they make me happy. And even if it is a shallow way to jump on the green wagon, at least I am jumping on. Hopefully they will last a month, or two. I can even clean them out after each use! They even carry twice the amount of food, beverages, etc that the plastic ones due and I am no longer afraid of splitting bags on the last flight of stairs.

So if you see pretty bags hanging for sale by the customer service desk...think about it! You could be a shallow green too!

Back from Necon and using toothpicks to keep my eyelids propped open. Boy...slept like a rock last night! Happy to report that DH survived! As Gary F. would say "Exxxxcellent". It was great to see so many friends, especially the bootcamp bunch. There is something soooo special about seeing internet buds in person.

But I digress...the long way home. DH's folks found out we were in the area because of one of DH's many Italian hitman had spotted us at a rest stop in Connecticut. DAMN! So we were obliged to stop by on the way home. As soon as we hit 95, DH called home. YEAH! His folks were out having an old-fashioned Italian dinner with some friends. DH's bro said we could come over and wait for a few hours until they got back, but thanks to all DH was too bushed from Saturday night fun to wait that long. So it was off down 95.

Which leads me to:

Top 10 reasons why it really sucks to drive home from Necon!

10. You have to pump your own gas until you return to Jersey, which is especially difficult when you are exhausted and (not in my case this year) hung over. I never get it right!

9. 95 through Connecticut has special panels that make sure you are blinded by the sun glare.

8. You can't use cruise control. 95 in Connecticut is amazing! You can go from 80 to 10 in five seconds or less for no reason, which is even more fun when you are driving around a bend.

7. People driving on 95 South often get confused and can't read the signs when around those big cities: New London, New Haven, Stamford....I'm sure I'm forgetting something.

6. Beware of rest stops. There is always someone there with a sob story who is asking for money.

5. Which means one needs to work on good bladder control, which is especially difficult after Necon fun!

4. The car is always more stuffed on the way home, which means it is sometimes more difficult to see out the back window.

3. This also means that there are more trips up the stairs when you do get home!

2. It will take at least four days to recover from Necon fun. DH was smart to take today off!

1. The hardest thing about driving home is saying goodbye to friends, old and new, before you start!

Thanks for a great time everyone!

There’s a parent in Illinois who is protesting her school board about Lowis Lowry’s The Giver, a young adult novel about a dystopian society where people are senseless. They don’t see color, they don’t have feelings, and they don’t make their own choices.

The book was read aloud to a fifth grade class during a unit on the Holocaust. The parent felt that the book illustrated infanticide and sexual fantasies, which she felt is inappropriate for a fifth grader.

First off, I’ve taught The Giver to sixth graders for a few years now. They love the book and find it compelling. What is unique about the book is that it has depth that leads to discussions about the concept of an ideal society and individual control.

I wonder who taught the woman to read. There are subtle references to death in the form of “Release” that Lowry describes. But it happens to more than just infants. Anyone who is deemed useless to the society is released. As for the sexual fantasies…this is even more ludicrous. Jonas, the main character who is twelve, is forced to take pills to stop his raging adolescent hormones. Does this mean sex? Of course. But to Jonas he just admits liking a friend, not ripping off her clothes and throwing her to the ground. Believe me when I tell you that in today’s concept of YA literature, there are many more examples of explicit sex. Just check out those books with the gingham type covers called The Clique.

Not to the issue at hand. Science fiction is probably the most complicated of the genres that demands the most from its readers. Not only do the readers need to be able to visual and suspend their disbelief, they need to have a basic understanding of scientific concepts illustrated in the plot in order to appreciate the story. IE…a youngster who reads science fiction, and fantasy in my humble opinion, is smarter than the average reader. These books are longer and more complicated.

Teaching science fiction teaches our youth not just the upper echelon of literacy skills. These texts teach youngsters to dream. Without science fiction we wouldn’t have many of the technological tools we have today.

I wonder if the woman protesting The Giver ever thought that without science fiction she wouldn’t have a cell phone.

Censorship is one of the growing evils in our society. More often we are taught what to think, what to do, and what to believe. Censorship prohibits people from thinking critically about important issues. The Giver makes the reader think about free choice. We should all be asking ourselves if we truly have that right.

Day four of my summer break and I decided to tackle on of my most dreaded tasks.....scrubbing the fridge.

Now I'm not a neat freak, but I am a relatively clean person. So scrubbing the fridge necessitates throwing out and getting down on my hands and knees to scrub a year's worth of drips, drizzles, and stains.

And cat hair.

I have two furry friends, and they are not allowed in the fridge, for obvious reasons. So can someone explain to me how the hell I get to annually clean cat hair out of the fridge? It's as if everytime I open the damn thing it's a cat hair magnet.

Not only is this exceptionally gross, well maybe not as gross as the thing growing in the back under the bread, but it's confounding.

Anybody else have this problem? Solutions? (Besides getting rid of my furry children.)

Yesterday I had the opportunity to listen to Jeffrey Ford, award-winning writer, speak on "The Metaphysics of Writing", which got me thinking. Rather than summarize what he said, check out 14theditch.livejournal.com. Jeff reminded me that writing is a bit of magic, a type of necromancy that requires a relaxed state of mind, one without worry.

No wonder some of the best writers, in my own humble opinion, used foreign substances to get in the mood with their muse. Edgar Allen Poe comes to mind, as does William Blake, Stephen King, and even myself on occassion. I have found inspiration sitting at my desk with a large glass of Shiraz squating on my right, which makes me wonder, is our culture to blame for limiting literature?

It's not like I don't take responsibilty for my own actions, but our current way of living, at least mine, entails a mad dash to the finish line that begins at 6:00 a.m. and ends somewhere around 10:30 p.m. (Teachers need sleep!) And the frenetic pace one needs to get "everything done" limits the amount of "downtime" one has to be creative, imaginative, and productive as a writer.

Ford, like many others, asserts that one writes because one has to....it is a need, an addiction, that must be fed or else face the consequences, bereavement of the soul. But my soul suffers under the weight of my other "responsibilities" too. Even now, I sit, pecking away at the charcoal colored keys with a few thoughts of "Is our dinner burning?" and "I'd better hurry-up while D's working so I don't get that guilty feeling that I'm a bad wife if I don't pay enough attention to him tonight."

It's no surprise to me that many writers are recluses, single, or considered selfish by those around them. It takes quite a bit of alone time to sit staring at a screen, awaiting the muse to appear. It takes even more time to daydream, revise and edit, send out submissions, write blogs, or do any other of the "writing-centered" things.

And that's the problem. Time.

Which is why Ford's approach of allowing an idea to perculate amid the gray matter without utilizing outline, notebook, or chart, is appealing. I sensed that he believes the power of the word, or image, is weakened when played with too much before committed to text. And to think that I've been delaying my next project, because I don't have it mapped out yet!

"Follow the character. Record the story." It's that simple, isn't it? Guess I should have a libation before I head out the door, to loosen up the tight shoulders, relax the mind, an allow myself to drift after the character who is standing in the doorway, waiting for me.