Thoughtful Thursday: A Slew of Firsts in Yellowstone

As I mentioned in my last post, I recently ventured to Yellowstone National Park in northern Wyoming. True, it was a business trip – well, technically, a press trip, which, for a travel writer, amounts to the same thing as a business trip – but that didn't prevent me from having a great time.

In fact, it was the first time that I'd ever seen Montana or Wyoming – much less Yellowstone – in my life, and the only thing that would have made the experience more enjoyable was if I'd been able to take my husband, Dan, along for the ride.

Although it would require several posts to describe all that I saw, did, and ate while away from home for a week, I thought that it might be more interesting to note some of the “firsts” that happened to me – through pictures as well as words. (Just note that, save for the two specified below, all photographs were taken by me.)

Here, then, is my first look at snowy Montana from an airplane window.

This is my first roadside encounter with a bison in the wild (which, incidentally, happened in Yellowstone's Lamar Valley).

Here's the first pair of snowshoes that I ever strapped on and attempted to hike in (not a bad way to experience the Mammoth Hot Springs Terraces)!

From the look of shock on my face (that's me in the front, with Serena and Molly behind me), it might be easy to guess that this is the first time I ever emerged from boiling hot springs (the Boiling River, to be exact) in a frigid winter landscape. (photo courtesy of Donnie Sexton)

Here's the first snowcoach in which I've ever ridden (the only way to traverse most of Yellowstone National Park in the wintertime) – that's Suzanne, by the way, standing in front.

Here's my first look at Old Faithful blowing her top! Isn't she beautiful, particularly in the winter?

Here's a dimly lit ice-skating rink near Old Faithful, site of my first solo ice-skating experience (without rails, surrounded by snow drifts, and beneath a canopy of stars).

This is the first time that I ever made a snow angel (not far from some wild bison on a geyser plateau) – that's me in the middle, by the way, with Serena and Molly on either side. (photo courtesy of Donnie Sexton)

This is the first time that I ever wore a snowmobile suit and, yes, rode a snowmobile (which is great fun in the forests beyond West Yellowstone)! (photo courtesy of Donnie Sexton)!

And that's just a sampling of my adventures in and around Yellowstone – a once-in-a-lifetime trip that I will always treasure.

So, have you ever been there?

Thoughtful Thursday: Bikes, Knives, and One Good Hubby

As I indicated on this blog more than three years ago, I am very grateful for my hubby, Dan, and his random acts of kindness (such as bringing home a harvest cookie from one of our favorite coffeehouses in the French Quarter, just to distract me momentarily from impending deadlines). We've been together for more than 13 years (married for nearly 12), and I can't imagine my life without him...

...which is why I was terrified at the thought of losing him in late October. That's when, as I explained on my American Nomad blog, what initially resembled a mere stomach flu turned out to be, just five days before Halloween, a case of massive internal bleeding – to such an extreme degree that, if I hadn't gotten Dan to the hospital when I did, his low blood count would have resulted in a potentially fatal heart attack.

Despite a massive, ever-growing hospital bill, I'm incredibly grateful to the staff of the Tulane Medical Center in downtown New Orleans for saving my husband's life – and I'm happy to report that he's doing much better these days – and back to his old tricks of thoughtful generosity.

About two weeks ago, for instance, he celebrated my 36th birthday with his usual gusto, despite the fact that he was still recovering from his unexpected hospital stay – and that birthdays always make me feel a little melancholy. Apparently, he doesn't mind that, come birthday time, I often fret about the children yet to be born (yes, I know my biological clock won't last forever) and the novels yet to be published – he just enjoys celebrating my existence, which, I must admit, makes me very happy.

So, on Friday, November 30 – which, incidentally, also happens to be Mark Twain's birthday – Dan surprised me with a beautiful new bike. It's a bright blue, vintage-style Schwinn, with fat tires, a wide seat, an awesome headlight, a handy storage rack, only one speed (thank goodness!), and vivid sunflowers all along the frame – and it's girlie to the max! No wonder Schwinn calls it a “Slik Chik.” Of course, that doesn't refer to the “chick” riding it through the French Quarter. As many friends and relatives can attest, I'm not the most graceful individual, but so far, I have yet to have a mishap on my new bike.

Naturally, the bike wasn't the only birthday present from my awesome honey. On that day, he also treated me to a scrumptious dinner at Bayona, lured me to our favorite Irish pub, and took me to my first New Orleans Comic Con, where he bought me two more wonderful presents: a replica of the Angel puppet from the classic Angel episode “Smile Time” (Fellow Joss Whedon fans may understand my glee at having this particular doll in the house.) and a bad-ass knife to add to my small collection (one that I started as an adolescent). Only Danny knows me so well – and for that, plus so many other reasons, I'm grateful to be married to such a wonderful guy! I love you, honey!

Thoughtful Thursday: Gratitude for Film Fest Volunteers

March has been a busy month for me and Dan. Besides finishing up the photos, maps, and text for my Moon New Orleans guide, I've spent much of my time planning ways to distribute our new audio ghost tour of the French Quarter, preparing for and running our Big Easy International Film and Music Festival, and doing the same for our Beverly Hills Shorts Festival (which took place this past weekend in Los Angeles). While I'm not quite able to take a vacation yet, I do want to take a minute to thank all of the wonderful volunteers who helped to make both festivals possible.

Although we appreciate each and every person who helped us this year, we're especially grateful for Angel and Jen (pictured above), who have helped us year after year with the Beverly Hills event, and Susan and Dan (pictured on the right), who always make our Big Easy festival a little brighter. So, thanks, everyone – we truly couldn't have done it without you!

Thoughtful Thursday: Holiday for Foodies

Last week, one of my editors asked me to post a Thanksgiving-related article on my American Nomad travel blog. So, after a little thought, I decided to offer a few last-minute suggestions for Thanksgiving weekend getaways – from exploring the theme parks of Southern California to experiencing the shops and attractions of the Windy City. While traveling during the holiday season can be loads of fun, though, I must admit that holiday food is the biggest attraction for me – and for my hubby. It's no wonder then that I find myself excited about today's plan: In lieu of venturing somewhere exotic, Dan and I are headed across Lake Pontchartrain to my dad's house, where there will be plenty of yummy vittles, from the traditional turkey to my hubby's not-so-traditional pumpkin bread pudding. How thankful I feel to be a well-fed American – especially since not everyone in the world (or even in my own country) can claim as such.

So, how are you spending the holiday?

Of course, no matter what your plans are, I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Thoughtful Thursday: Empty Brain Syndrome

There's so much to think about today. Last night's Republican debate. Sexual abuse allegations at Penn State. Memory-preserving health tips. The fact that so many bad restaurants lure unsuspecting patrons through Groupon. And so on and so forth.

Oddly enough, though, my brain feels sort of empty this morning. Perhaps it's the lack of sleep or the stress over my latest writing project or the inevitable condition of brain overload, but whatever the reason, I simply don't feel like thinking today. Although it's not going to happen – 'cause, unfortunately, I have lots of work to do – I would love to just spend the day meditating, lying on a hammock, floating in a pool, or watching a marathon of silly movies.

Do you ever have days like that?

Thoughtful Thursday: Comfort Zone

Two weeks ago, I took a solo drive to visit my online buddy and fellow writer Bridget Chicoine, who lives more than 100 miles south of my home in Michigan. For many of you, that might not sound like a big deal, but as you'd learn by reading my recent post on my American Nomad blog, this was a huge deal for me. In truth, I was terrified of driving as a teenager, so much so that I didn't get my driver's license until I was 22 years old. Since then, I haven't driven nearly as often as I should, so now, at the age of 34, I've finally made driving a priority. As part of my “training,” I typically drive at least one way on any trip that Dan and I take, whether we're driving one mile to pick up groceries or more than 70 miles to see a movie – but making a 210-mile, round-trip journey by myself was a first for me... and I've never felt more liberated.

So, when have you ever ventured out of your comfort zone... and more importantly, how did it feel?

Thoughtful Thursday: Hero or Coward?

Today, I posed a “what if...?” question to the authors that frequent Come In Character: What would you do if you spotted someone drowning? Hopefully, characters will offer truthful confessions, but you can't predict anything with this bunch.

Even though the exercise is intended for fictional people and creatures, I couldn't help but wonder what I would do in a similar situation. Would I ignore the victim's frightened cries, jump in after him or her, seek some professional help, or do something else altogether?

Although I'd like to think that I would come to the immediate aid of a drowning victim – whether that means jumping into the water myself or tossing him or her a handy flotation device – the truth is that I'm not sure I'd do much more than holler for a police officer or, at the very least, dial “911” on my ever-available cell phone and pray for cellular service.

So, the question is... what would you do in a similar situation?

(P.S. The picture accompanying this post does not, in fact, depict a drowning victim. It's actually me getting splashed by dolphins in Key Largo, Florida.)

Thoughtful Thursday: Favorite Possessions

Earlier today, several authors stopped by Come In Character to share their characters' most important possessions. The answers ranged from photo albums to weapons to musical instruments – and the discussion made me wonder how I would answer the question, “What is your most important possession, and why?”

To be honest, I'm just not sure. Given that my husband, Dan, and I live in three different places, I'm often forced to consider those items that I can't live without – including obvious items like toiletries, kitty toys, my laptop, and my cell phone, plus precious things like my grandmother's wedding ring, my own treasured baubles, the medicine pouch that I made on a vision quest when I was 13, perhaps even my bunny slippers. So, how can I possibly name just one thing?

After all, despite my wish to be less materialistic, the need to possess is a very human trait. In fact, right or wrong, what we possess partially defines who we are – especially our most beloved possessions. But, of course, that need to possess can become an obsession for some of us. When my grandfather, for instance, passed away last June, he left behind a house nearly filled with possessions – so many records and clothes and coins and knick-knacks and dishes and bicycles and such that it was hard to discern what he'd really treasured in life. Upon seeing what his house had become, I couldn't help but recall Ruth Gordon's advice from Harold and Maude: “Here today. Gone tomorrow. So, don't get attached to things!”

But, nevertheless, it's hard to let go. So, I ask you... what is it that you couldn't live without?

Thoughtful Thursday: The Trouble with Habits

It's hard for me to believe that I haven't posted here in over two months. It's even harder to believe that it took that long for me to finish my last travel guide.

Last summer, when I started this blog, I had every intention of posting six times a week – no matter that everyone, from my hubby to my online pals, thought I was delusional. At the time, I believed that, by forcing myself to post something nearly every day, I could form a solid habit – and for a while, that logic seemed to work. After a few months, posting here had indeed become a near-daily habit – one that I thought would be difficult to break, especially since I really enjoyed writing my “simple pleasure” posts and interacting with my fellow writers. In my warped little brain, I thought that a positive habit like that would stick for a good long while.

Little did I know, however, that work would interfere with my well-intentioned plans. Back in January, I was so busy traveling and researching for my Moon Florida Keys guide that I was lucky to post once a week, much less six times. It didn't take long for my positive habit to become a regular burden – especially since I had more pressing blogs, like American Nomad, to maintain – and once I fell off the proverbial wagon, it was hard to make it a priority anymore. Hence, my recent two-month absence.

But, despite my reluctant absence, I've missed it greatly – not to mention my buddies in the blogosphere. Now that I've finished the Keys guide – and have only the copy-editing and proofing stages left – I hope to be a little more consistent with this blog. Of course, I now have a new edition of Moon Michigan to write, but I'm hoping that I'll be able, with my hubby's help, to manage my time better this time around. Still, in the wake of this harried first half of 2010, I can't help but wonder... Why is it so easy to break a good habit like blogging, but difficult to break bad ones, like smoking cigarettes or, in my case, eating chocolate?

Thoughtful Thursday: Totally Tapped Out

Wow. I can't believe it's been over a week since I blogged here. Although I'm enjoying writing chapters for my Florida Keys guidebook – and blogging about travel-related things like snorkeling and fishing in the Lower Keys – the tight editorial schedule (which is way tighter than I'm used to) has ensured that I have little time for anything else, including this blog, your blogs, and my novel revision. Even though my deadline's been extended to mid-April, it's not just lack of time that's held me back... with my head so focused on the Keys, I haven't had the creative energy to focus on anything else. I mean, sheesh, I don't even have much to say about the boring, unamusing marathon that was this year's Oscars (although I'm very happy for Sandra Bullock and Kathryn Bigelow). Oh, looky, I guess I did have a little bit to say...

Anyway, sometimes, I wonder how other writers juggle blogging along with everything else. I guess we all need a break from the blogosphere once in a while, but I sure do miss all my online buddies – and can't wait to visit your blogs in a month or so. Until then, I hope everything's going swimmingly for you all!

Thoughtful Thursday: Appreciation

I see it all the time on the blogosphere – heartfelt appreciation for one's fellow bloggers. Sometimes, people are grateful for the supportive writing advice they receive. Sometimes, they're thankful for the encouragement offered during a personal crisis. Sometimes, they're just happy for the solidarity and comradeship of their online pals.

I, too, have felt gratitude for my fellow bloggers – and those that take the time to lend support when it's sought. So, thanks, everyone, for the well wishes this week – I'm feeling better already.

And thanks, too, to my beloved kitty, Ruby Azazel, who's rarely left my side while I recuperate from this nasty flu bug. I'll admit she seems a bit confused by my inadvertent impression of a slug, but she's been a trooper nonetheless, curling up next to me most of the day and making me giggle in spite of my symptoms. Of course, now that I'm on the mend, she's back to her old tricks, rifling through the trash, hopping on forbidden surfaces, and nibbling my arms and ankles whenever possible. Isn't that right, my little demon seed?

Thoughtful Thursday: Happy Holidays to All My Bloggy Pals!

I might be an atheist, but I still rejoice in the holiday season – and for the record, I never get offended when someone wishes me a “Merry Christmas!” In fact, I find it rather disheartening that the holiday season has become so besmirched with talk of banning the word “Christmas” from our lexicon.

Relax, people – and by “people,” I mean those who get their panties or boxer shorts in a bunch over proper holiday greetings. Isn't it the intention that should matter most? If someone wishes an atheist like me “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Hanukkah” or “Happy Kwanzaa” or “Happy Festivus” or “Happy Holidays,” I accept it in the spirit of the greeting – in the spirit of the season – which, for me, should be more about family, friends, and gratitude than Santa, Jesus, or other ambiguous entities.

When I was a child – an agnostic even then – I relished the holiday season – and not for the presents (although those were much appreciated). It was the lights and the carols (and, all right, the food) that inspired me most. On Christmas Eve, Mom and I would often attend the service at our Unitarian Universalist church in New Orleans – and I remember feeling warm, happy, and sated by the crowded sanctuary, filled with friends of different faiths, all holding candles and singing carols as one. Carols, incidentally, about Baby Jesus and God and other things in which I didn't necessarily believe but that made me nevertheless hopeful – because the words mattered less than the sounds, the feelings, the true meaning of the season.

So, whatever faith you celebrate – and whatever matters most to you at this time of year – I hope you have a relaxing, memorable, wondrous holiday season – and a very happy, healthy, prosperous New Year!

And, with that, I leave you with this hilarious photo of the infamous “gay pride” display on Bourbon Street in the French Quarter. See, even Ken dolls understand the true meaning of the season: the joy of being with loved ones, no matter how strangely dressed they might be!

Thoughtful Thursday: Tag, I’m It!

So apparently, this twenty-six-question “meme” has been making the rounds through the blogosphere. My dear Bane tagged me yesterday, so I guess it’s my turn. I’d say phooey on him – “tag” was one of my least favorite games as a child (gave me heart palpitations, I kid you not) – but it does give me a “thoughtful” post for today, so here goes...

1. What’s the last thing you wrote? What’s the first thing you wrote that you still have?
Well, I guess the last thing I finished was Hollow Souls, my first completed novel. But the first thing I wrote? Wow, that’s hard. Technically, the first thing I wrote for pleasure (and not for school) were these snarky sketches about my family, but if those were still in existence in August 2005, then Hurricane Katrina slurped them from my old bedroom. I still have a myth that I wrote when I was about thirteen – as well as a short story called “The Peace.” Spirituality was once a big theme for this here atheist.

2. Write poetry?
I have indeed written poetry. But what you really want to know is “Was it good poetry?” Surely not.

3. Angsty poetry?
Angsty poetry, no. But I did keep an angsty diary when I was a kid – managed to save it from Katrina’s clutches – what a laugh riot that is today. There's even a passage written after an argument with my mom, in which I wrote something super-melodramatic like, "I'll show her! I'm never coming outta my room... one day, she'll miss me, and she'll find me dead on my bed, and won't she feel sorry then?!" Or words to that effect (it's in storage at the moment, so forgive the misquote). I told you - priceless.

4. Favorite genre of writing?
Wow, that’s tough. I don’t have a favorite per se. I love horror, fantasy, crime thrillers, mysteries, Westerns, and literary/mainstream fiction pretty equally. "What's your least favorite?" is the real question. That would be romance - hands down.

5. Most annoying character you’ve ever created?
I’d like to say Seth, Devi’s flighty musician brother, in Hollow Souls, but Devi might actually be my most annoying character – certainly my whiniest. Hence, the need for a revision (among other reasons).

6. Best plot you’ve ever created?
I don’t know if it will be my best, but I’m pretty fond of Devi’s long, winding journey to Ruby Hollow.

7. Coolest plot twist you’ve ever created?
For now, the coolest plot twist is Olivia’s discovery of her mother’s old love letters from Jesse Littleton – who she’d formerly believed was the made-up hero of Devi’s bedtime stories. After the discovery, Olivia realizes three things: that Ruby Hollow actually exists, that her married mother is in love with another man, and that that's why Devi is so miserable.

8. How often do you get writer’s block?
What’s writer’s block? Hehe. More likely, I suffer from “writer’s flood” – too many words (at least for today’s publishing market).

9. Write fan fiction?
Well, the fact that I had to look up “fan fiction” should tell you something. Although now that I know what it is, I might be tempted to write a sequel to the Firefly television series.

10. Do you type or write by hand?
Both. I write notes and scenes by hand – you should see my “serial killer notebooks,” as Dan likes to call them – and type multiple drafts on my laptop. Haven’t used a typewriter in years.

11. Do you save everything you write?
I sure try to – mostly, in digital form (on my laptop and on jump drives), but I have printed out a couple drafts of my novel, just in case an EMP renders all electronics useless. This is why Dan lovingly considers me a “pack rat” – I live in fear that he’ll accidentally toss out my papers during his next downsizing frenzy.

12. Do you ever go back to an idea after you’ve abandoned it?
Sure thing. My “second” novel, which I’m currently contemplating, was actually supposed to be my first. But my passion for Hollow Souls overtook it.

13. What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever written?
Do erotic short stories count?

14. What’s everyone else’s favorite story that you’ve written?
As Bane and Matt have said, “That remains to be seen.”

15. Ever written romance or angsty teen drama?
Hollow Souls and Red Road Crossing certainly have romantic elements, but although “never say never” is sometimes apt, I don’t believe that I have it in me to pen Harlequin-type romance and, no offense to Stephenie Meyer, but I’ll never do what she did to a vampire, much less a teenaged girl.

16. What’s your favorite setting for your characters?
Ruby Hollow, of course – the secret underground community in southern Kentucky that dominates Hollow Souls. So much fun to draw (yes, I have maps) and to describe - some might say a little too much fun.

17. How many writing projects are you working on right now?
Besides my travel guide to the Keys? Technically, two, I suppose. Revising my first novel, Hollow Souls, and outlining my second, Red Road Crossing.

18. Have you ever won an award for your writing?
Beyond high school, not that I can remember... but I hear you lose brain cells in your thirties.

19. What are your five favorite words?
Ooh, this is the toughest question. I love words! But, after much thought, I’d say that my top five (at the moment) are cornucopia, onomatopoeia, serendipity, ukulele, and mishmash.

20. What character have you created that is most like yourself?
Devi and Olivia (mother and daughter in Hollow Souls) are the two halves of me.

21. Where do you get ideas for your characters?
Um... me, myself, and I. All my characters are either versions of me or amalgams of people in my life.

22. Do you ever write based on your dreams?
Some of my dreams are so memorable and/or psychotic that I write them down, and parts of them inform my writing – which admittedly frightens my husband a little. I have some of the most disturbing, violent dreams of anyone I know – it’s been known to freak him out. Sorry, honey.

23. Do you favor happy endings?
Not necessarily. The ending needs to fit the story, which sometimes means bad things have to happen to good people. Atonement wouldn’t have had the same impact with a so-called happy ending, but if Andy Dufresne hadn’t escaped in Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption, I’d have been utterly pissed. Depending on how you look at it, Hollow Souls has a happy ending – an ending that fits my main character’s journey toward a sense of peace.

24. Are you concerned with spelling and grammar as you write?
Spelling and grammar are, unfortunately or not, my strengths, so I’m never concerned about them – they come rather naturally. So, I guess you could say I’m very aware of them. In fact, I found it difficult writing the word “angsty” up above.

25. Does music help you write?
Definitely. But only classical music and movie scores. Lyrics – even lyrics I know well – usually distract me from my writing. In fact, the only song that I could listen to while writing Hollow Souls was the song “At This Point in My Life” by Tracy Chapman. Somehow, it became Devi’s anthem.

26. Quote something you’ve written. Whatever pops into your head.
Although I’m tempted to post a part of the erotic short story that I managed to sell, I’ll try to keep this PG-rated. One of my favorite parts of Hollow Souls is Caroline’s ill-fated journey into the caves:

Caroline sensed a huddle of hushed voices. As the whispers loudened, her mind awoke from a hazy slumber. The fog was lifting, retreating into the shadows, revealing her true environs. The voices became clearer, crowding her with their intensity. She felt warm and comfortable, as if covered by blankets and lying on a pliable surface – unlike the cold, hard earth upon which she’d fallen. Perhaps she’d dreamed the previous escapade. But the aches throughout her body quickly dispelled the fantasy. Recalling the boy’s face in the darkness, she wondered: If she were no longer crumpled facedown on the grimy, unyielding stone in that final chamber of terror, where was she?

Gradually, she opened her eyes. Her head, resting on a pillow, faced a rocky cave wall, aglow with a flickering amber light and a host of agitated shadows – presumably belonging to the incensed voices behind her.

“Really, Forrest, what were we supposed to do? Just leave her there? She would’ve died!” The unseen woman spoke like a mother, with equal compassion and ire.

“They’ll keep looking for her, and you know it!” The man – undoubtedly Forrest himself – sounded older than the woman, and more enraged.

“I agree with Forrest. It’s too dangerous letting her stay. We’ve heard them above, they’re doing everything they can to find her.”

“Roland, not you, too! The girl was bleeding to death. If Jesse hadn’t found her, she probably would’ve died of shock or starvation. Would you want that on your conscience?”

“Well, if your son hadn’t found her, we’d never have known she was there.”

An older woman, with a raspy voice, asked, “What were you doing up there anyway, young man? How did you get out of the Hollow?”

“Leave him be, Lilith! I can deal with my own child, thank you.”

“Apparently not. Really, Marybeth, you should be more careful with your son. What if someone had seen him? Then, where would we be?”

“But no one did see him.”

“A little girl did, and now look.”

Caroline stared at the flickering wall, listening to the heated discussion, enjoying the solace of her new bed. She kept her head and body perfectly rigid, hesitant to reveal her consciousness to the huddled visitors, scared by those who apparently didn’t want her there.

Suddenly, a much younger voice pierced the room’s tension. “Mom, can she stay?”

“Not now, Jesse. We’ll talk about it later.”

“No, the boy’s right.” Forrest’s voice was gruff, virulent, no longer a whisper. “We should talk about it now. Many of us aren’t sure the girl should be allowed to stay down here.”

Down here? How far below the ground was she lying right now, and how many people were living in this strange place? Had the silly old park ranger been right after all?

“What do you propose we do,” Marybeth asked. “Put her back where we found her?”

“I’m not saying we let her die in the caves,” Roland replied, “but she can’t stay here.”

A new voice, perhaps belonging to the oldest woman present, tossed an opinion into the fray. “Let’s bring her to the surface. Ken, Charlie, or Ralph can pretend to find her. The other rangers will think she wandered up from below and give our boys a medal for bringing her to safety. Then maybe they’ll stop searching the caves.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Forrest said.

Roland guffawed. “Not bad at all.”

“I can’t believe you all. You’re suggesting leaving a young girl in the park by herself! No one will believe she got out on her own... not with that ankle of hers. It could throw even more suspicion on us, and put her in even greater danger.”

“So, can she stay, Mom?”

“Hush, Jesse. The grown-ups are talking. And you’re in enough trouble as it is.”

P.S. What a dummy I am. When I posted this, I failed to “tag” a couple other folks to take this little questionnaire. So, without further ado, I’d like to tag Deb, Donna, Martha, and Jennifer. Tag, you lovely ladies! Now, you're it!

Thoughtful Thursday: Tarot-Card Reading

Thanks to everyone who helped me out with yesterday’s title dilemma. I really appreciate all of your heartfelt feedback. In light of it, I’ve decided to stick with my current title: Hollow Souls. After all, I like it. Folks who have read my novel seem to like it. Even those who haven’t read it think it’s pretty okay, so I’m officially not going to worry about it for now. Really, I have more important things to fret over... like, um, my revision.

In an effort to delay the inevitable even longer, I’m going to switch gears for a moment. Inspired by my blogging buddies Bane and Bridget (say THAT five times fast!), who recently revealed little curious tidbits about themselves, I’ve decided to share a few of the things I “learned” during my first official tarot-card reading at Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo. As I mentioned in Monday’s post, this unique experience was part of my thirty-third birthday celebration, and although I’ve never been a believer in astrology, sooth-saying, and predestination (I’m all about free will, baby!), it was still a bit enlightening. True, I influenced the lady’s reading with my questions, and later, Dan dismissed most of her prognostications as mere generalizations and misinterpretations (now, say that five times FASTER!). But all I can think is... Stifle thyself, Danny. Every new experience is a chance to learn something, so here’s what I learned from the varied card configurations in the back room of Marie Laveau's:

1. In general, this is a transitional year for me – I’ll have to make a lot of important decisions – and supposedly, I’m really good at making decisions. Dan had a hearty chuckle when I told him that.

2. This year, I’m going to be offered a big job opportunity – something that will force me to make a huge change in my life. As a freelance travel writer, I sure hope she meant another guidebook because I have no intention of putting down roots... yet.

3. A few years down the road, I’ll be going back to school – in my chosen field. So, I guess that means no Master of Theology for me. Yes, I long ago dreamed of being a Unitarian Universalist minister – a story for another day.

4. Also a few years down the road, I’ll be teaching others. I’m just not sure what.

5. Apparently, my health is fine... for now. So’s my marriage. Phew.

6. But it’s a good thing that I never plan to make a lot of money from my writing because, apparently, my fiction will not be my primary source of income. Of course, what Dan plans is another thing entirely.

7. I apparently have a problem with authority – which probably explains why I’ve been a freelancer for nearly a decade now.

8. My problem with authority stems from some unresolved issues with my mother – which is also the reason that I have yet to revise my novel. Hey, that’s what the reader said!

9. Kids are still a possibility in my life, perhaps in a few years – but I don’t need them to complete me. Dan was happy to hear that one.

10. To have kids, I’ll have to settle down permanently (and deal with my unresolved parental issues). Dan was not, however, happy to hear that.

11. The only thing that really disturbed me was when she said I’d have to have one big blowup with my mother in order to resolve said unresolved issues. Dan, of course, wondered why I wasn’t more concerned about the money thing.

So, there you have it, folks. My first “real” reading. I’ve had friends “practice” on me before, and maybe my niece will try next summer (yes, we bought her a pack of tarot cards for her last birthday), but this was my first professional experience, and I quite enjoyed it. Perhaps it’s all a bunch of crapola, but at the very least, it gave me some food for thought... and fodder for a blog post.

So, what do you think? Should I take any of it seriously?

Thoughtful Thursday: Giving Belated Thanks

By now, you might have guessed that I’m a bit of a procrastinator. I’m often late with my blog posts – and I have no good excuse, except that I’m juggling a few too many things at any given time – and I’m not certain that I’d have it any other way.

So, in classic procrastinating fashion, I’m offering thanks after Thanksgiving dinner – not before. But my thanks are nonetheless heartfelt. No matter the pitfalls, deadlines, and doubts that might plague me at times, there are several people (and other entities) for whom I’ll be forever grateful.

Thanks to my folks and the rest of my family for taking care of me when I was young, for ensuring that I was warm and fed and well educated, and for believing in my dream to be a published writer.

Thanks to my in-laws for welcoming me into the Martone fold – and for encouraging my writing, too. My mom-in-law is especially supportive of my travel guides... and my current novel.

Thanks to the teachers and editors who have taught me and believed in me. Their support has meant more than they’ll ever know.

Thanks to all the friends (in-person and online) who have touched me, made me laugh, enriched my life, and supported me every step of the way.

Thanks to Bogie, Pawws, Gypsy, and Ruby – the animals that have made an incredibly positive difference in my life.

Thanks to the universe (or genetics?) for instilling within me enough creativity, intelligence, and ambition to pursue this crazy little thing called publishing.

And thanks, of course, to the hubby. I’ve thanked him on this blog before, but it can’t hurt to thank him again! I love you, Danny (I mean, Mr. Potato Head), and I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Thoughtful Thursday: Ever on the Move

You’re not going to believe this, but we’re moving again. Yes, it’s unbelievable, but absolutely true.

When we first arrived in the New Orleans area last month, the film festival was only a few weeks away, and we didn’t have much time to look for a place. So, we had to settle for a temporary spot just outside the city, while we prepared for the festival. But, now that the festival is over, it’s time to relocate to a better locale in the French Quarter – which, happily, we found yesterday.

Of course, with how often we come to New Orleans, you’d think we’d already have a permanent apartment, but you’d be wrong. Goodness knows it would make life easier if we didn’t always have to search for a sublet every time we ventured into town, but we have yet to find a permanent situation – mainly because we’re always slammed with festival duties. Hopefully, that’ll change this spring, when we return from our adventures – or should I say misadventures? – in the Florida Keys and Los Angeles. But, for now, we’ll be moving – tomorrow. Won’t the kitty be pleased?

Although, as I’ve previously reported, I’m not a fan of packing and unpacking, I do love the fact that Dan and I have called so many places home. In the decade we’ve been together, we’ve lived in over twenty different domiciles, from a flat in the English countryside to a roving RV to a French Quarter apartment with a lovely courtyard (pictured here with Dan, my stepmom, and my dad). It might sound crazy to others – including our parents – but we truly embrace our nomadic lifestyle. The scenery is ever evolving, and boredom is never an issue for us. As a bonus, when the apocalypse comes in 2012, we’ll be well versed in hitting the road. Of course, if the latest Roland Emmerich flick has it right, there won’t be anywhere to run – at least here in America.

Thoughtful Thursday: What's Success Anyhow?

As a follow-up to yesterday’s post, I was thinking earlier today about the nature of success. What is it exactly? What does it mean to succeed at one’s dreams?

Okay, so, Dan hopes to win an Oscar for a film that he will someday write and/or direct, while I dream of earning a Pulitzer Prize for my writing... So, what could happen if we eventually achieve such goals? Would that be the pinnacle of our success? What does it mean to strive for something, and what happens when one achieves it? Is that it? Is there anything to crave for beyond that? And what does it mean if one never attains such goals? That success will forever be out of reach?

Despite our ambitions (however lofty they might seem), I believe it’s healthier to think of life as a series of little successes, instead of always striving for one big success that might only leave us disappointed.

I was musing about such things as I prepared for the opening night party of our film fest tonight – and I thought about it again several hours later, once the filmmakers and volunteers had left the Kerry for the night. Remembering the smiling faces, the energetic atmosphere, and the way my hubby looked as he chatted with our guests – many of whom had come from faraway towns and cities, and some of whom were getting all they could out of the Big Easy’s partying culture (if you know what I mean) – I felt an incredible sense of pride. This will be our eighth film festival weekend as co-directors – and even if our ultimate goals, such as having a film theatrically distributed or a novel traditionally published, are far in the future – we’ll always have this weekend, this little success (if all goes smoothly, of course), and that’s enough for now.

Thoughtful Thursday: Adaptability or Something Else?

Last Thursday, I mused about my dear adaptable kitty, Ruby Azazel, and what an amazing traveler the feisty little thirteen-month-old has become. No matter where Dan and I have ended up in the past year, it’s taken her no time at all to familiarize herself with our new environs. As long as she knows where her toys, food and water bowls, fleece blanket, and litter box are, she seems content – even more so if there’s an accessible window – her own personal viewfinder on the world. She’s so flexible, in fact, that I’ve begun to think that I could learn a lot from her “unabashed curiosity and enviable serenity,” as I noted last week. Perhaps I could even figure out how to apply such adaptability to my own life – not to mention my writing.

Then, just the other day, I was looking for her in her usual haunts when, lo and behold, I found her perched atop our garment bag. For a moment, I thought, “Now, would you look at that? She’s not just adaptable – she thrives on traveling. She doesn’t just mind it – she loves it!” Suddenly, I noticed her resolute expression, and I began to reconsider my misguided thought process. Perhaps her stance atop the garment bag meant something else entirely. Perhaps, after a year of experiencing our nomadic existence, she was finally putting her proverbial paw down: “No more traveling, Mom and Dad, at least for a while...”

Well, too bad for her. Because I just found out today that my book proposal was indeed accepted by the fine folks at Avalon Travel, which means that once my work for the Big Easy International Film Festival ends next weekend, I’ll be making plans to head further east to the Florida Keys, where I’ll begin researching and writing the first edition of Moon Florida Keys. After that, we’ll drive west to Los Angeles to prepare and execute our fifth annual Beverly Hills Shorts Festival, and by May, we’ll be headed north to Michigan, where I’ll soon be hard at work on the fourth edition of Moon Michigan.

So, sorry, little Ruby. When we adopted you from that rescue facility in the French Quarter, you might’ve wished for a nice little stationary family, in a nice little stationary home. Well, I’m afraid to tell you... that’s not exactly what you got. But, on the flipside, you couldn’t have asked for a Mama who would love you more.

Thoughtful Thursday: Adaptable Kitty

Dan and I both love animals, so naturally, we both adore having a pet of our own – especially one that we found in a pet rescue facility in New Orleans. Ruby Azazel, who was featured during the first week of my blog, is our beloved thirteen-month-old kitty cat, a domestic short-haired tabby with adorable leopard spots on her belly. At once affectionate and mischievous, she’s the perfect addition to our little family of two. Even better, it turns out that she also travels well – which is a good thing for two nomads like us.

When we adopted her last November, we quickly discovered that she was a whole lot more rambunctious than our first kitty, Pawws. Despite her need for affection, she was awfully curious about her new surroundings and more than willing to get into trouble. She especially liked to bite things – cardboard boxes, important papers, my arms, my legs, even my backside once or twice – and she had an unbelievable infatuation with doorjambs. Seriously. Without rhyme or reason, she would hurl herself against the wood – it would have been hysterical if it hadn’t been so weird.

Because she was so different from our even-tempered Pawwsy, we were admittedly concerned that she wouldn’t be as adaptable a traveler. But has she ever surprised us! True, Pawws was so well-behaved that she was able to travel around the country from the comfort of her beanbag – while rambunctious Ruby must ride in her carrier – but still, Ruby is remarkably flexible. Although she doesn’t like to be restrained, it never takes her long to settle down on the blanket inside her carrier. In fact, she can pretty much fall asleep anywhere.

Likewise, she never seems dismayed by the change in scenery. Together, the three of us have already journeyed from an apartment in the French Quarter to a hotel in Los Angeles to another apartment in New Orleans to a home in northern Michigan and back again to the Big Easy – and she always seems to embrace her new environs. I attribute such adaptability to her unabashed curiosity and enviable serenity. As long as her mom and dad are around – and she has access to her favorite blanket, a gray fleece that once belonged to me – she seems to roll with the changes. If only I could learn to emulate Ruby’s ability to adapt to new situations, embrace unfamiliar stimuli, and maintain some semblance of tranquility – oh, how happy I would be!

For the pet lovers out there, what characteristics do you love most about your pets? What have you learned from them? And if you don’t have pets, what are you waiting for?

Thoughtful Thursday: Yoga on the Move

Well, we’re close to Louisiana now – and thank goodness! Long car trips aren’t what they used to be... or maybe I’m not what I used to be.

True, the changing scenery is lovely, and the sudden rainstorms are revitalizing (if only because we have to concentrate on not getting blown off the road), but by the end of the journey, my head aches, my body’s itching for some exercise, and my spirit cries out for some much-needed meditation.

Luckily, though, it’s still possible to get my daily dose of yoga on the road. Rest areas – especially pleasant ones with shady trees – are terrific places to do some of the bigger postures (downward facing dog, sun salutation, etc.) – as long as you don’t mind a few odd stares.

Hotel rooms aren’t so bad either – some are even spacious enough for me to unfurl my yoga mat. Even in a small hotel room, you’d be surprised how creative I can get with my yoga routine – the half-moon, tree, and eagle poses are ideal for cramped spaces. Besides, you really don’t need much space to sit still for a while and concentrate on nothing more than your breathing.

Doing yoga on the move might not be ideal, but it’s better than nothing. So, what concessions do you have to make on long journeys?