Yep. It's August and I have yet* to wear:
- strappy sandals
- cute summer dresses
- bare legs
- sunscreen
- swimming suit
On the upside, no skin cancer for me this year as my legs resemble marshmallows. I'm beginning to catch on to the whole British obsession with the weather thing.
Word count: 50,004!
Groove: have to dig for it, but it's there, reverberating
Bubble: still intact
* I did wear strappy sandals and a summer dress to a wedding in Barcelona on May 29.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
People the world over have always been more impressed by the power of our example than by the example of our power. - Bill Clinton's DNC speech, 2008
It's amazing how interested the British media, and indeed its people, are in US politics. I lived in Slovenia during the '04 election, and basically was immune to the circus that surrounded the Kerry v Bush race. In Britain, I may as well be in America - especially this week. It's dominated the headlines of many a newspaper, and radio shows bring up the presidential race often and with vigor. I'm not certain where the motivation lies. Perhaps it's a response to the Bush buffoonery, perhaps a curiosity about the extravagance surrounding US campaigns, or perhaps a genuine interest. And I've been fielding many an email and question about the Biden decision from people I don't usually associate as political junkies.
I caught many of the DNC speeches on YouTube, and the convention was also televised on the BBC Parliament channel. Impressive talks from Gore and both Clintons, and the Obama speech even convinced my cousin, who hadn't yet fallen for his charms. I can understand the annoyance that some might feel towards Obama - his life story has been shoved in everyone's faces so much that it now seems cliche, his rock-star reverence could be taken for arrogance, and his eloquence may seem plastic after dozens upon dozens of speeches. His capacity to infuriate people is as strong as his capacity to inspire. But the buzz is there, and as a bleeding-heart liberal NPR-loving female pro-choice pro-gay pro-peace pro-tax the rich corporate bastards environmentalist teacher, I have a feeling that, as Bill Clinton put it, Barack is on the right side of history.
On a completely unrelated note: Things I Learned This Week. Edinburgh is still one of my favorite cities, especially when exploring new neighborhoods with old friends. Dental hygenists clean your teeth the same way no matter what country you're in (I've had my teeth cleaned in six countries). Some people have too much time on their hands. Red front doors can be seen from two blocks away. And there's nothing quite like walking along the river, staring at the Highlands and hearing bagpipes in the distance.
I caught many of the DNC speeches on YouTube, and the convention was also televised on the BBC Parliament channel. Impressive talks from Gore and both Clintons, and the Obama speech even convinced my cousin, who hadn't yet fallen for his charms. I can understand the annoyance that some might feel towards Obama - his life story has been shoved in everyone's faces so much that it now seems cliche, his rock-star reverence could be taken for arrogance, and his eloquence may seem plastic after dozens upon dozens of speeches. His capacity to infuriate people is as strong as his capacity to inspire. But the buzz is there, and as a bleeding-heart liberal NPR-loving female pro-choice pro-gay pro-peace pro-tax the rich corporate bastards environmentalist teacher, I have a feeling that, as Bill Clinton put it, Barack is on the right side of history.
On a completely unrelated note: Things I Learned This Week. Edinburgh is still one of my favorite cities, especially when exploring new neighborhoods with old friends. Dental hygenists clean your teeth the same way no matter what country you're in (I've had my teeth cleaned in six countries). Some people have too much time on their hands. Red front doors can be seen from two blocks away. And there's nothing quite like walking along the river, staring at the Highlands and hearing bagpipes in the distance.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
"He's nae been bloody Scottish since he moved to LA." - Waterstones check-out woman
Sir Sean Connery's book is out. The official hoo-ha is Monday night at the Edinburgh Book Festival - yeah, one of the many events that sold out within fifty-three seconds of tickets going on sale - but the book's out in full regalia. It's a gorgeous book (seriously - it's beautiful) with 312 pages of text and color photos, and I'm sure a copy will make its way to our SNP household, but today at Waterstones, whilst thumbing through one of the fifty or so copies stacked on a table, the folks had other things to say.
"Bastard." - random man in his 50s with a copy of "Jamie at Home" in his other hand
"What a load of rubbish." - agitated woman in her 50s with a stack of Jilly Cooper and 3-for-2 romances in her arms
"He's a bit up himself, innin-ee?" - agitated woman (above)'s companion, pulling a tartan shopping trolley
You just can't win. You're a national icon. You don your kilt whenever possible, bringing attention to your small country. You loathe the English like any good Scotsman. You've launched a zillion vocal imitators, most men in their 20s trying to pull. You're the best James Bond ever, for god's sake. And random folk in the Inverness Waterstones don't even give you any love. Even at £4 off the £20 price.
On a lighter note, Michael "The Grouper" Phelps has a book deal. Note to self: win 8 medals = book deal. And here I thought I had to actually try to write something.
"Bastard." - random man in his 50s with a copy of "Jamie at Home" in his other hand
"What a load of rubbish." - agitated woman in her 50s with a stack of Jilly Cooper and 3-for-2 romances in her arms
"He's a bit up himself, innin-ee?" - agitated woman (above)'s companion, pulling a tartan shopping trolley
You just can't win. You're a national icon. You don your kilt whenever possible, bringing attention to your small country. You loathe the English like any good Scotsman. You've launched a zillion vocal imitators, most men in their 20s trying to pull. You're the best James Bond ever, for god's sake. And random folk in the Inverness Waterstones don't even give you any love. Even at £4 off the £20 price.
On a lighter note, Michael "The Grouper" Phelps has a book deal. Note to self: win 8 medals = book deal. And here I thought I had to actually try to write something.
BIDEN!!!!!
Very, very pleased with the Biden choice.
And even more pleased I don't have to deal with the bullshit the Republicans are going to pull from the clouds to shove down Fox News viewers' throats. I wish they'd put Jon Stewart back on over here.
And even more pleased I don't have to deal with the bullshit the Republicans are going to pull from the clouds to shove down Fox News viewers' throats. I wish they'd put Jon Stewart back on over here.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club. - Jack London
• No tickets left for the Edinburgh book festival. I'm still going on Monday to soak up the atmosphere.
• We find out Barack's VP this week. I'm secretly hoping that the rock star Kansas governor Kathleen Sebelius gets the nod. She's young, she's smart, she doesn't take lobbyist cash, she's got executive experience, she won (twice) in a "red" state, and she's, of course, a SHE. And she's a Kansas liberal, so essentially one of my soul sistas. Much as I loathe the circus of nonsense that is American elections, I can't help but be a bit sad that I can't witness Obamamania firsthand. Though the UK loves him. It is nice vetting "what do you think of Obama" enquiries rather than "did you vote for him".
• Am diving into Piri Piri Starfish and Dulce Pontes, dreaming of Portugal.
Word count: 21,461
Groove: slipped out, spent ten minutes readjusting, then slid right back in
Bubble: intact, getting bigger
• We find out Barack's VP this week. I'm secretly hoping that the rock star Kansas governor Kathleen Sebelius gets the nod. She's young, she's smart, she doesn't take lobbyist cash, she's got executive experience, she won (twice) in a "red" state, and she's, of course, a SHE. And she's a Kansas liberal, so essentially one of my soul sistas. Much as I loathe the circus of nonsense that is American elections, I can't help but be a bit sad that I can't witness Obamamania firsthand. Though the UK loves him. It is nice vetting "what do you think of Obama" enquiries rather than "did you vote for him".
• Am diving into Piri Piri Starfish and Dulce Pontes, dreaming of Portugal.
Word count: 21,461
Groove: slipped out, spent ten minutes readjusting, then slid right back in
Bubble: intact, getting bigger
Friday, August 15, 2008
The more you fail in private, the less you will fail in public. - Twyla Tharp
My friend Zain and my partner Matt have blogs that log their workouts. I'm stealing their idea.
I've just finished reading Twyla Tharp's book The Creative Habit and am on a buzzy high from a transformational week. An excellent chat with my agent, who told me to stop sending her bullshit and live up to my potential (in so many words). A new twist on the old story thanks to a brainstorming chat with one of my best girls. Over 10,000 words in two days. Tharp calls this a 'bubble', where everything in life seems to feed into the creative work. It's a nice feeling. And, as Tharp says, "All you can do is accept it with gratitude and try not to screw it up."
Reading The Creative Habit was serendipitous this week. There's a chapter on denial, which my agent touched on: yes, your readers notice when one scene is weaker than the next. Yes, it's your responsibility to fulfill the promise you made when the reader picked up your book, and you must deliver. This also falls in with the chapter on ruts and grooves, and how important it is to be honest with what's not working and fix it from the perspective of one who has failed and wears the scars with pride. So yeah, I've failed in private, more times than I care to admit. And I'm fine with that, because now I'm writing a better book.
Other gems from this book:
"We want our artists to take the mundane materials of our lives, run it through their imaginations, and surprise us."
"Scratch for little ideas. Without the little ideas, there are no big ideas."
"Your creative endeavors can never be thoroughly mapped out ahead of time. You have to allow for the suddenly altered landscape, the change in plan, the accidental spark - and you have to see it as a stroke of luck rather than a disturbance of your perfect scheme. Habitually creative people are, in E. B. White's phrase, 'prepared to be lucky'."
"If it's true that who you are now and who you will be in five years depend on what books you read and which people you meet, then you need to think more aggressively about those you invite into your creative life."
"Art is a vast democracy of habit."
"Without passion, all the skill in the world won't lift you above craft. Without skill, all the passion in the world will leave you eager but floundering. Combining the two is the essence of the creative life."
Thanks, Twyla, for your words.
Word count: 10,030
Groove: sliding right along
Bubble: intact
I've just finished reading Twyla Tharp's book The Creative Habit and am on a buzzy high from a transformational week. An excellent chat with my agent, who told me to stop sending her bullshit and live up to my potential (in so many words). A new twist on the old story thanks to a brainstorming chat with one of my best girls. Over 10,000 words in two days. Tharp calls this a 'bubble', where everything in life seems to feed into the creative work. It's a nice feeling. And, as Tharp says, "All you can do is accept it with gratitude and try not to screw it up."
Reading The Creative Habit was serendipitous this week. There's a chapter on denial, which my agent touched on: yes, your readers notice when one scene is weaker than the next. Yes, it's your responsibility to fulfill the promise you made when the reader picked up your book, and you must deliver. This also falls in with the chapter on ruts and grooves, and how important it is to be honest with what's not working and fix it from the perspective of one who has failed and wears the scars with pride. So yeah, I've failed in private, more times than I care to admit. And I'm fine with that, because now I'm writing a better book.
Other gems from this book:
"We want our artists to take the mundane materials of our lives, run it through their imaginations, and surprise us."
"Scratch for little ideas. Without the little ideas, there are no big ideas."
"Your creative endeavors can never be thoroughly mapped out ahead of time. You have to allow for the suddenly altered landscape, the change in plan, the accidental spark - and you have to see it as a stroke of luck rather than a disturbance of your perfect scheme. Habitually creative people are, in E. B. White's phrase, 'prepared to be lucky'."
"If it's true that who you are now and who you will be in five years depend on what books you read and which people you meet, then you need to think more aggressively about those you invite into your creative life."
"Art is a vast democracy of habit."
"Without passion, all the skill in the world won't lift you above craft. Without skill, all the passion in the world will leave you eager but floundering. Combining the two is the essence of the creative life."
Thanks, Twyla, for your words.
Word count: 10,030
Groove: sliding right along
Bubble: intact
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
We wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment. - Hilaire Belloc
Summer in Scotland: wool sweaters, hats, waterproof shoes, layers, and, on the occasional bright day, dark sunglasses to block glances toward overweight teenagers clad in tight tank tops, cut-off miniskirts and six-inch sandals, not to mention the middle-aged men with pink bellies hanging over their jeans. The rain's come in brief explosions, leaving harsh shades of green and a glorious, fresh scent in the air. I've now been in Scotland for a year, if Shetland counts, and I'm still trying to come to terms with the weather, which can be as manipulative as the media.
Cath, Matt, and me atop Ben Wyvis, July 2008
We've had scads of visitors, starting in June and ending just a day ago. It's been fun showing off this place, though the weather's been frustrating for most of them. Note to all persons considering a trip to Britain: IT RAINS HERE. Accept it, move on, and hope for the best. Of course, I had my parents pack for chilly, wet weather, as July was quite cold; they arrived to two weeks of warm sunshine, called me a liar, and bought t-shirts. Sorry, Mom and Dad.
Their visit gave Matt and I an excuse for a trip around the Highlands and western isles. We wanted to show my parents the best of Scotland (since their daughter will be living here and all) and with the weather gods smiling down on us, the trip was close to perfect.
Luskentyre beach, Isle of Harris. The whitest sand and clearest turquoise water I've ever seen. The sun was out, and the water was warm - I could have easily spent days on that beach. It went on for miles. reaching into the horizon. Absolutely beautiful.
The Calanais Stones, on Harris, dated from 3000 BC.
The stones were placed on the windswept shores of Loch Roag, where the sapphires in my engagement ring were found. The peaceful vibe of this spot was breathtaking.
Glenfinnan, between Ft. William and Mallaig. This is Highland scenery at its best - a silky loch, dozens of shades of green, dramatic hills, layers of mountains in the distance.
The view from the top of the Applecross Pass, towards Skye. This is a legendary road in Scotland, as it's a singletrack, steep ascent and descent with little space for manouvering. There are warning signs at the start of the road. I was a bit disappointed, however; I've driven vanloads of twelve-year-olds on far narrower and steeper roads in Switzerland, so I suppose I have TASIS to thank for my lack of fear of driving windy mountain passes. (And the Kansas girl in me is quite proud of this talent.) And, oddly enough, the hill to the left of center looks eerily like Lugano's San Slavatore
just before a storm.
The book is headed for yet another rewrite. In a year, I've managed to finish two novels, but neither are ready for publication. I've abandoned one, and there's still loads of work to do on the other. I admire (and, admittedly, envy) writers who can whip out a story without any rewrites, but I'm realizing that I don't work like that. I'm lucky enough to have an agent who is patient with me and believes in my potential - her belief in me sustains me through the black days. I read a recent interview with a writer who wrote seven novels before publishing her eighth, and she called the first seven her 'apprenticeship.' I'm taking that idea and running with it.
Harris, at sunset. I found this view the most inspiring of them all.
Cath, Matt, and me atop Ben Wyvis, July 2008Their visit gave Matt and I an excuse for a trip around the Highlands and western isles. We wanted to show my parents the best of Scotland (since their daughter will be living here and all) and with the weather gods smiling down on us, the trip was close to perfect.
Luskentyre beach, Isle of Harris. The whitest sand and clearest turquoise water I've ever seen. The sun was out, and the water was warm - I could have easily spent days on that beach. It went on for miles. reaching into the horizon. Absolutely beautiful.
The Calanais Stones, on Harris, dated from 3000 BC.
The stones were placed on the windswept shores of Loch Roag, where the sapphires in my engagement ring were found. The peaceful vibe of this spot was breathtaking.
Glenfinnan, between Ft. William and Mallaig. This is Highland scenery at its best - a silky loch, dozens of shades of green, dramatic hills, layers of mountains in the distance. 
The view from the top of the Applecross Pass, towards Skye. This is a legendary road in Scotland, as it's a singletrack, steep ascent and descent with little space for manouvering. There are warning signs at the start of the road. I was a bit disappointed, however; I've driven vanloads of twelve-year-olds on far narrower and steeper roads in Switzerland, so I suppose I have TASIS to thank for my lack of fear of driving windy mountain passes. (And the Kansas girl in me is quite proud of this talent.) And, oddly enough, the hill to the left of center looks eerily like Lugano's San Slavatorejust before a storm.
The book is headed for yet another rewrite. In a year, I've managed to finish two novels, but neither are ready for publication. I've abandoned one, and there's still loads of work to do on the other. I admire (and, admittedly, envy) writers who can whip out a story without any rewrites, but I'm realizing that I don't work like that. I'm lucky enough to have an agent who is patient with me and believes in my potential - her belief in me sustains me through the black days. I read a recent interview with a writer who wrote seven novels before publishing her eighth, and she called the first seven her 'apprenticeship.' I'm taking that idea and running with it.
Harris, at sunset. I found this view the most inspiring of them all.
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