Last night as I was thinking about how I want to revive and update this blog, I realized just how much I miss my blogger friends. One of the nicest is Adela from The Black Tortoise and Once A Little Girl. As it just so happens, I read her new post today about the BlogHer Challenge. Now I am signing up myself. I’m disappointed that I didn’t participate in the April A to Z Blogging Challenge after having so much fun with it last year.
So, here it goes. Watch for a new post every day this June. The theme is perfect for me and my blog: Roots. So check out Adela’s first entry – BlogHer Challenge | The Black Tortoise – which is very sweet, as always, and stay tuned for mine!
It isn’t every day that I come across a book that inspires me on several levels. The Return Of Catesbyby Bob O’Connor did just that. The rest of my review will explain how and why. If you enjoy historical fiction, I can’t recommend The Return Of Catesby enough.
Over the last few days I’ve spent some time thinking about howThe Return Of Catesby inspired me. First, I have to admit the style in which the book is written is one of my favorites. I love journals and believe this technique is particularly suited for this type of historical fiction. As a reader, I am always looking for my next book. After learning a little about Bob O’Connor’s work, I knew I wanted to read more. The Return Of Catesby serves well as a sequel to Catesby: Eyewitness To Civil War, as well as a stand-alone read. While I don’t feel the need to read Catesby: Eyewitness To Civil War to fully appreciate The Return Of Catesby, I am now compelled to read the first book due to Catesby’s experiences discussed in the sequel. All other content aside, the topic, genre, and organization of the book would’ve been enough to draw me in. But there is so much more. I simply don’t remember the last time I read a work of historical fiction with such heart.
WhyThe Return Of Catesbyinspires me is an easy question to answer. There is, of course, the character of Catesby himself, a fictionalized version of a real blacksmith who lived during the Civil War era. In the book, he comes across as the most authentic, inspiring teacher imaginable, despite having never stepped foot in a classroom prior to his first day of teaching. His wife, Marcia, truly comes into her own at the end of the book and is Catesby’s constant helpmate in every sense of the word. Perhaps most inspiring of all is the insatiable appetite for learning exhibited by some of Catesby’s students. They simply couldn’t get enough, despite the fact that the town of Harpers Ferry wasn’t exactly welcoming. I envy the community created around the school. They truly cared for one another and even sought to learn the history of the tension between the community of Harpers Ferry and the school.
Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia
The Return Of Catesbyby Bob O’Connor will stay with me for some time. I am honored to have hosted an interview with him and to have had the opportunity to review the book today. If you have any interest in historical fiction at all, I highly recommend The Return Of Catesby. Do not be surprised if I review more of Bob O’Connor’s work in the future.
Today we have an author interview with Donna Anastasi, author of Spin the Plate, who is currently on tour with Walker Author Tours. Enjoy, and don’t forget to pick up your copy of Spin the Plate!
What are your habits when you sit down to create? Do you have to be in a certain room? outside? Music playing? The inspiration part happens when I’m driving or walking and my mind is relaxed and wandering. The ideas happen at random moments so I’ve always carried a small notebook. More recently I’ve been using the notebook or recorder feature on my iphone. The writing part happens when I’m alone and things are quiet. Any place will do. I usually write an hour at a time between other obligations. But when I’m just starting to pull it together or getting near the end, I’ll go away by myself and hole up for a day or weekend for concentrated writing.
Where do you find inspiration for your books? The inspiration for me for fiction work finds me and demands to be written. For non-fiction it is more a intellectual decision to write about something that I’m an expert on that doesn’t have good or detailed enough coverage.
Do movies inspire you and if so, which ones? Yes! I am a movie-aholic. I had one job where I took a bus into Boston everyday and watched 3-4 movies a week. I love movies that are a bit off beat, have characters with great chemistry that aren’t perfect but that you bond with anyways, are intelligent or clever, and teach or remind you of important truths that perhaps help you be a bit of a better person. Just a few of my recently watched favorites are Les Mis, About a Boy, I Am, Catfish, Death to Smoochy. Primal Fear is my most watched movie. Silver Lining Playbook is my newest favorite. I also loved 50-50.
I write reviews and make listmania lists on Amazon of films and books that I like. If you share my tastes you can check these out here:
Have you ever had a moment that you felt like quitting writing? Why? No, because I don’t do it professionally which gives me the luxury to pick it up and put it down as I want. I do have different feelings toward my novel at different times and these feelings run the full gamut.
Do you think that the future is ebook or print? ebook. Books are going to go the way of the newspaper. That makes me sad. Nothing like the smell and feel of a “real” book in your hands.
Tell us about your book.
This book is not your usual bodice-ripper romance where an unnaturally gorgeous heroine meets a buff, alpha-male for hot nasty sex.
Not even close.
Jo is a survivor of a bleak and abusive childhood. She channels her pain and rage into weight training and roams the city streets at night as a powerful vigilante. While she is more than capable of defending herself against physical danger, she is defenseless against the memories of the past that torment her.
Francis is a mysterious man she meets on the subway train. He doesn’t have a regular job and is still living at home. But he is gentle, likeable, friendly, intelligent, sensitive, respectful, generous, patient, and understanding. Just what a brave, but damaged soul like Jo needs.
In this story, the average-guy hero battles to win the battered heart of the wary, edgy, less-than-perfect heroine.
“Spin the Plate is a fast-paced, edgy, darkly comic tale of resilience, romance, and redemption that breaks over you in waves. All you can do is gasp, stay afloat, and enjoy the ride.”
— Holly Robinson, author of The Wishing Hill and Sleeping Tigers
Where can we find out more about you and buy your book?
The novel is offered as a free ebook from Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, and iTunes, and is a 99 cent kindle ebook. It is available in paperback from Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Make sure to get the January 2013 (full length novel) version titled “Spin the Plate: A Novel.” More information about me and the book can be found at www.spintheplate.com.
As of late I’ve come across some great material that got me thinking about why I write in the first place. The article above from The Collaborative Writer gets it exactly right. I admit it: I am my own worst enemy. I tend to over-think everything and spend too much time planning what I’d like to do when I really should be writing. I. Just. Need. To. Write. Why is that so difficult in practice?
The thing is that I truly believe everyone has a story. No one has a perfect life. Everyone is struggling with something and conflict is the heart of any great story. Not only does that simple premise – everyone has a story – get to the heart of why I write, it is also the reason why I love to read. I am drawn to biographies and autobiographies or any good plot driven by realistic conflicts dealt with by well-rounded characters.
Again, I keep going back to asking myself why it has to be so hard. I love to create. I know what I like to write. I always feel more myself when I write. Why don’t I write more? I think we all need to ditch the excuses.
The video included below I came across as part of training for my position as a clerk. I love the message of the video. It is all too easy to forget that everyone is struggling with something.
A week ago yesterday, I picked up my new car, a 2013 red Chevy Malibu. Sad to say, it just seems like an end of an era in my life. In the 16 years I’ve had my driver’s license, I’ve owned and driven two Pontiacs – a 1989 red Grand Prix and a silver 2002 Grand Prix. That’s it. I tend to hang on to cars. I don’t think I exaggerate when I say that I believe my 1989 Grand Prix saved my life.
July 24, 2002 I was in a bad car accident in Austin, Texas. I was driving on highway 290 on my way to work at Applied Materials. I was almost to work when a big white moving truck made a left-hand turn in front of me; I had the green light and was traveling 55 MPH. The other driver did not see me. I slammed on the brakes so hard I broke my big toe and fractured the metatarsal. I was lucky. Most of the front end of my car ended up under the side of the truck. I hate to think of the possible fate of any front-seat passenger I may have had. Fortunately the only other injuries I had from the crash was a bad cut behind my ear from the molding on my driver’s side door and a small cut on my knee. Despite not having airbags, I did not get bombarded with glass from the windshield. Fortunately the safety glass held. At 5 ft. 0, airbags might have made things worse prior to smart airbag technology.
Ironically I originally planned to sell that car after the end of my co-op with Applied Materials. Instead I found myself car shopping for a new Grand Prix in Austin, Texas with my Mom. There are so many memories of that 1989 Grand Prix though, I was very sad to see it go, despite its quirks. My parents purchased the red 1989 Grand Prix new in 1989; I was 8 – and excited for a new family car. Prior to that car, my Mom drove full-size vans that doubled as canoe livery vehicles throughout the summer. Suffice to say my Mom was very happy to have a car again! I was just as excited to go car shopping with my parents. It was a 2-door, red, and sexy for its time. Of course it was love at first sight.
One snowy Christmas Eve a year or so after my parents purchased the car, my parents, my sister, and I found ourselves helping a young woman who ended up in the ditch. As we drove home from festivities at my grandparents’ home in Standish, we were nearly home when my parents saw a set of headlights in the ditch. My Dad backed up the car and helped the driver, a young woman on her way to her parents’ home for Christmas. My Mom, in her gorgeous fox coat, which my Dad had trapped for her, climbed into the backseat with me and my sister. As the driver wasn’t badly hurt and didn’t want medical attention, we drove her to her parents’ home. It is one of my favorite childhood memories. When you are just newly 9 years-old, I suppose it passes for adventure.
I think the intention always was to hang onto that car until I was old enough to drive. In the 1995 model year, Pontiac came out with an entirely redesigned Grand Prix, the wide track. At the time my parents were friends with a couple who owned the local GM dealership. Mr. W knew what he was doing and drove one of the new Grand Prixes over to my parents’ house. All of us fell in love with that car. Hook, line, sinker. My Mom ended up with the car and the 1989 Grand Prix was put in the pole barn until I could drive. At the time, there weren’t many 1995 Grand Prixes on the road yet, and my Mom got plenty of looks in her new car (of course it was red too). At 14, I have to admit I was envious.
Now I had a car of my own! I had nearly a year to play around with what would become my car, drive it in the campground, and set it up exactly as I wanted it. I couldn’t wait to drive, even if it meant driving my little sister everywhere too. A few months after I got my license, I ended up in my first fender-bender in that car one icy February morning on my way to school. It was the first car crash my sister and I had ever been in. We both just absolutely burst into tears – and then drove on to school and called Mom.
In many ways, it was E’s car too. It seemed as though each school day my sister and I would fight over control of the radio and tape deck. There were certain single tapes I had in the car that she insisted on playing over and over again; it drove me crazy. I hate to admit this, but I used to make E pump my gas. It was a while before I did it myself. On cold winter nights, I picked her up from 4-H ski club, along with her skis, which we would have to put through the trunk into the backseat. She even drove my car throughout my freshman year at Michigan State and had her 5 CD changer installed in the trunk. Eventually, though, she ended up with my Dad’s old Jeep, which is an entire post on its own.
After my sophomore year at MSU I ended up with an internship at IBM out in Rochester, Minnesota. There was only one problem: I still wasn’t comfortable behind the wheel. On my first day of driver’s education, back in June 1995, my cousin A, who is only 10 months older than me, ended up being hit head on by a drunk driver. Fortunately A survived; the other driver did not. A owned a white 1988 Grand Prix, and it too probably saved her life.
As one can imagine, her crash left an impression on me as a new driver, especially since we grew up together and went to the same schools. I simply didn’t trust other drivers. Things were better by my sophomore year at MSU, but the idea of driving out to Minnesota for the summer was daunting. My Grandma ended up riding out to Rochester with me and then flew home. By the end of the summer, I looked forward to the drive home by myself.
My drive home from Minnesota is one of my favorite memories of my 1989 Grand Prix. I loaded up my sister’s 5 CD changer with my favorites and drove through Minnesota, Wisconsin, and the UP of Michigan. It happened to be a gorgeous August day, and I was anxious to start getting ready for my year of adventures in Ecuador and Spain. After all those years, I finally started to feel comfortable behind the wheel.
If I learned how to drive in my 1989 Grand Prix, I learned to love to drive in my 2002 Grand Prix. That poor car: I put it through a lot! It has a few trips from Michigan to Texas and back again on it, and almost exactly 183,000 miles when I turned it in last week.
The thing is: It was not the original car I wanted. My Mom talked me into it. Sure, I wanted another Grand Prix, but I wanted a sexy gold 2001 with leather seats and a sun roof. The cars happened to be about the same price. My Mom talked me out of the gold 2-door though. She brought up the fact that I’d probably be moving at least once after college and the 4-door gray would be infinitely more practical. She couldn’t have been more right. I moved several times with the help of that car.
The funny thing is that the 2002 I owned echoed some of the styling of the Grand Prixes of the 1970s. As a child, the Mom of one of my best friends owned a chocolate brown late 1970s Grand Prix – a boat of a car. I remember thinking how deep the backseats were back then. The same goes for the 2002. In fact, three of my little cousins, all siblings, ended up getting carsick riding in the backseat of my car. I doubt any of the three could see out the side windows at the time.
Oddly, I can’t say I have any memories of dating in either of my cars. I didn’t date in high school, and when I finally did date in college, we always ended up either not driving or taking my date’s car. I do have very fond memories of my boyfriend Brian’s old Pontiac 6000 though. It wasn’t particularly sexy or great looking, but Brian more than made up for that. It was just a great car with even better memories. Originally owned by Brian’s Grandma Menja (Marie), Brian drove the 6000 throughout high school and college. Brian totaled the car in 2001 only to have it fixed up and continue driving it until after we graduated from college in 2004.
In fact, most of our first date – the worst blind date I’ve ever been on – took place in that car. It happened to be a rainy, freezing late February night in 2000, and since we couldn’t decide what to do next on our date, we spent a good share of the evening just driving around Bay City, trying to get warm and dry after getting caught in a freezing rain walking along the riverfront. After we finally got together in 2004, we always seemed to find ourselves driving around in that car. We drove all over Lansing, East Lansing, and Michigan State. I loved that car too and was sad to see it go.
One of the best memories I have of that car is coming home to my apartment in East Lansing on graduation day to see him sitting on the trunk of his Pontiac looking like the best graduation gift ever. My family couldn’t come to the graduation ceremony for my Spanish degree from the College of Arts and Letters, they were coming the following day for my graduation from business school, so Brian decided to come. Memories of that last semester of college and that spring are some of the best of my life, thanks largely to Brian.
Yeah, you could say that I liked Pontiacs. I will never understand GM’s decision to kill the brand. If they ever bring it back, I will definitely take a look at what they have to offer. Since Pontiac’s demise in 2009, I’ve heard time and time again that the Aztec was to blame. I have to admit, it is quite possibly the ugliest car I’ve ever seen, although I don’t think it was the sole reason why GM decided to kill Pontiac. Unfortunately, Pontiac’s untimely demise left a huge hole in downtown Bay City. Dunlap Pontiac closed its doors in downtown Bay City after 85 years in business.
I love cars, and I’m not sure if I could truly call myself a Michigander if I didn’t. Last week I not only said goodbye to a car I owned for over 10 years, I said goodbye to a brand I loved. I’m just glad my Mom still owns her 2007 Pontiac Solstice. I loved my Pontiacs. I love my new Chevy Malibu too. What I really love is the freedom a car represents. I think it is time for a road trip. Feel free to share your car memories in the comments.
I am in love. I’m in love with the Kindle Fire I received from my parents for my birthday. Earlier this fall, I came up with the crazy idea that I’d love a Kindle Fire for my birthday. The idea seemed crazy at first because I received a Nook Color last year. The thing is that I love my Nook so much I wanted to compare the Kindle Fire, discuss various features, and share everything with all of you. So, here it goes:
So why do I love my Kindle Fire so much?
The experience of setting up the Kindle Fire blew me away. All of a sudden I had access to my Amazon.com MP3 collection, which I’d largely forgotten, right on my Kindle Fire. Free apps such as Kindle Buffet have already helped me create huge library of great books to discover, largely for free. I also discovered a great, free YouTube video downloader. All of that is just the beginning.
I have to admit, I haven’t exactly been fair to my Nook Color. I’m going to have to spend some time exploring some of its capabilities. Over the last year I largely used it as an e-reader and to play a few games (Words with Friends, etc.). I’ll do a direct comparison of both devices soon. I will say this though: It is hard to compete with Amazon’s selection and service. I’ve been nothing but happy so far.
There are various reasons why I took an extended break from blogging. I want to share the details very shortly, but here’s the issue: There is just so much to say. While personally my life is heading in the right direction, and there is great potential for me to achieve some of the most important goals I’ve set for my life, every day I’m surrounded by a society that appears to be coming apart at the seams. I’d love to put my sense of loss – and concern for my country – into words. I’m simply not there yet.
Ok. For some reason “Sweet Child O’ Mine” has been in my head lately. It would actually make a perfect theme song for this blog. Of course, as soon as I start stalking YouTube to listen in and maybe even find the original music video, so many other great Guns ‘N’ Roses songs came up. “November Rain” and “Welcome to the Jungle” in particular, both of which will always remind me some of the best times in college.
I’ve been promising a series of posts focusing on Paul McCartney for some time now. I suppose I’ll start with the obvious question: Why am I such a huge fan? It is all about creativity. I don’t think anyone or anything has inspired me as much as the Beatles, Paul McCartney in particular. As I have no musical talent whatsoever, and have no desire to pursue music, you may ask how that is possible. It is all in the lyrics. Please tell me how a writer wouldn’t be inspired by the man who largely wrote the lyrics below. I dare you. Supposedly Paul McCartney wrote this for his one-time fiancée Jane Asher. The song, of course, is only one of hundreds, with the Beatles, Wings, and solo.
I’m looking through you Where did you go? I thought I knew you What did I know?
You don’t look different But you have changed I’m looking through you You’re not the same
Your lips are moving I cannot hear Your voice is soothing But the words aren’t clear
You don’t sound different I’ve learned the game I’m looking through you You’re not the same
Why, tell me why Did you not treat me right? Love has a nasty habit Of disappearing overnight
You’re thinking of me The same old way You were above me But not today
The only difference Is you’re down there I’m looking through you And you’re nowhere
Why, tell me why Did you not treat me right? Love has a nasty habit Of disappearing overnight
I’m looking through you Where did you go? I thought I knew you What did I know?
You don’t look different But you have changed I’m looking through you You’re not the same
Yeah, oh, baby you’ve changed Aah, I’m a-looking through you Yeah, I’m looking through you You’ve changed, you’ve changed You’ve changed, you’ve changed
Below is the video if you are in the mood for some vintage Beatles or just a great song.
Now that you know where my interest in Paul McCartney’s work comes from, it is time to learn how it all began well over 50 years ago. It is well-known that John Lennon met Paul McCartney at the Wooten Village fete in July of 1957. What many might not know is what actually got Paul into the band. It was a nearly perfect performance of “Twenty Flight Rock” by Eddie Cochran. He knew all of the words.
The rest, of course, is history. Since the entire history of the Beatles is well-covered ground, and I had my fair share of fun dredging it all up again this past April, I won’t go there. What happened to Paul McCartney after the Beatles is almost as interesting as anything that came before.
I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, whatever possessed Paul’s wife Linda to agree to be in a band with her famous husband, I’ll never know. I’m just glad she did. Wings weren’t the Beatles, but that seems to be the point. It just started out as Paul, Linda, their kids, and their dogs. I’ve included the first few parts of Wingspan. It is fascinating. The videos speak for themselves. For those who don’t know, the interviewer for Wingspan is Paul and Linda’s oldest daughter Mary.
More than anything I admire Paul McCartney’s, and the Beatles’, dogged determination to get it right. They weren’t content to leave things as they were; they continued to innovate. Many people don’t know this, but Paul McCartney has also tried his hand at classical music (quite successfully), pursued abstract painting, and worked to save his and George’s school from demolition. It is now the Liverpool Institute for the Performing Arts, or LIPA. Oh, and he isn’t done… yet.
The Beatles Anthology is much more complete than I ever imagined. It nicely set the stage for Love years later, both the Cirque de Soleil show and the album.
The Beatles gave it their all and truly loved one another. I’d realized this before, but it is an inescapable conclusion of the Anthology.
John, Paul, George, and Ringo were first and foremost fans. In describing their various musical influences, it is clear they remained in awe of the likes of Carl Perkins, Buddy Holly, Elvis, the Ronettes, and more, long after they achieved fame themselves. Their desire to take that music further is what ultimately led to their success and their continued popularity.
Both “Free As A Bird” and “Real Love” were better songs than I remembered, and even better videos. They were modest hits at the time of release, but at the time I didn’t really register their significance or how truly good they really are.
The Beatles Anthology is truly a gift to fans. In the extra segments in the Anthology, Paul, George, and Ringo discuss the technical difficulties in making both “Free As A Bird” and “Real Love” from unfinished and unreleased Lennon tracks. They state that “Free As A Bird” is truly a Beatles song, while “Real Love” is much more similar to John Lennon’s solo work. I couldn’t agree more. It says a lot about the band that the three remaining Beatles (at the time) put aside petty grievances to complete the work they started so long ago, and include their slain band mate in a fundamental way. All of them had long established solo careers at the time of the Anthology and could have easily walked away from anything relating to the Beatles; they didn’t
I have to say, after reviewing all of the extras in the Anthology, the ukulele scene at the end of “Free As A Bird” gets to me even more now. I think most Beatles fans recognize it as a tribute to John Lennon. Legend has it that John’s mom, Julia, taught him to play the ukulele first. When John and Paul first became friends, Paul had to teach John guitar chords as he still played the ukulele chords his mom taught him.
But it gets even better. According to the director, George wanted to play the ukulele in the ending scene of “Free As A Bird.” The director said no. At the time he wanted someone not recognizably a Beatle to play it. Of course, after George passed away in 2001, the director felt horrible about his decision. I can imagine George wanted to play it as a tribute to John.
I suppose that is what I absolutely love about the “Free As A Bird.” There are so many references to Beatles songs in the video I notice something new every time I watch the video. It literally covers every aspect of their career. I have no idea how any band could ever top their career and everything they accomplished. It may be cliché to say that or even admit to being a Beatles fan. I simply don’t care. Sometimes things are cliché simply because they are true.
Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde 