Writer Up

Senior and Single

2011-10-22T20:33:00.000-05:00

Since turning fifty, the only thing more fascinating than the vast array of offers I receive from AARP is the email I receive with the subject line reading "Sexy Senior Singles Searching for You."

As if dating isn’t strange enough at 49, now we are seniors and somehow sexy and senior don’t seem to go together unless you’re in one of those May-December relationships and only one of you is senior. Or you are Suzanne Somers.

These sexy guys are searching for me? Really? Where are they looking? Do they still drive? Are they yearning to take me out to the early bird dinner?

With so many of us so-called seniors being single I have to wonder why the Bachelor and Bachelorette shows only seem to exist for the young and gorgeous. If they have to court on reality television to meet people, what are the chances for us more mature ones?

We "seniors" need love too, and if we promise ‘til death do us part, it’s more likely to be a reality. Lack of time is on our side.

Happiness Planning

2011-10-17T22:13:00.001-05:00

If I wait a little longer I can celebrate the two year anniversary of my last blog post. Sometimes things put you on hold (besides the satellite t.v. people). People we love die, their pets we don't love come to live with us, organs in our bodies start acting up and need to be surgically removed, children decide it's time to plan a wedding, jobs are lost. It doesn't take a big event to make me stop writing, just seems like the bigger the excuse, the better.

I did write a few things, but didn't post here after some trusted writer friends told me to stop giving it away when I could sell. Sounds kind of dirty to me.

So I return with a little story about (appropriately) Happiness Planning. I got an honorable mention at Humor Press for this:

My friend Kelly once found herself so overloaded with activities and all the usual stuff – work, children, volunteering, kitchen gadget parties – that she narrowly escaped needing a two-week beach getaway. She knew it was time for change after a coworker asked if she might cover a shift, because her father was dying and she needed time off. Kelly, usually kind and generous, leaned in close to the distraught woman and said “NO! If I do one more thing I’m going to have a breakdown.”

After recovery from the breakdown she had due to saying that, Kelly learned to say no graciously, and now when necessary for her to do so, her husband reminds her “It’s not like their loved one is dying or something.”

While many of us are socially overloaded and trying to find ways to say no before snapping, I, for one, am searching for more groups to join. I’ll tell you why. Good Morning America recently reported that adding just one group activity that requires leaving your house, even if only once per month, increases your happiness level as much as doubling your annual salary.

I am not greedy. I figure three new group activities per month will be sufficient, giving me plenty of happiness to bank, with some left over for helping out the kid and some for donating to folks less fortunate – the groupless.

All that potential joy is great but happiness bucks won’t put food on the table and gas in the tank, so I plan to join groups right here in my neighborhood so I can snack at home, then walk.

So what groups to join? I briefly considered the runners group, but my homeowners’ association does not allow lawn mowers, barbeque grills, trashcans or middle aged women in Spandex to be within view. From anywhere. That and the fact that I’m a little bit nervous about the bobcat I regularly see near the exercise trail. And I don’t run.

I could join a homeowners’ association committee –maybe the one that walks around noting the addresses of all of our rebel neighbors who dare to leave their grills outdoors. Or I could start up a new committee – the Car Committee – and propose changing the bylaws to require keeping all vehicles out of view. It’s fun to imagine 300 homeowners trying to balance their trashcans on top of their grills, on top of their lawnmowers so they can also hide their cars in the garage.

Seriously, I don’t think a homeowners’ group would add much happiness to my bank, but the report didn’t say anything about the necessity of the group being fun.

Maybe I’ll join one of those dinner clubs where the gang prepares enough food to feed France and then you divvy everything up and take container after container of deliciousness home and eat leftovers until time for the next fry-fest. Yes, this sounds good. It would sound better if I liked cooking.

Pondering all the options is so exhausting. I feel like someone has made unauthorized withdrawals from my happiness bank. So I’m going to join one group only and try to get by on less.

Or who knows? Maybe the Wine Tasters can meet weekly. We’ll be the happiest group in the hood.

© Copyright by author, used with permission by Humor Press. No unauthorized reproduction or redistribution is allowed.

Hello Handsome

2010-02-13T22:22:00.002-06:00

While killing time on my way to a volunteer Valentine-making party recently I bought a Hello Kitty locket necklace from the Goodwill. I got many complements on the necklace at the party and a couple requests to see the photo inside the locket. I pondered this lack of a sweetheart to carry around my neck and knew that prior to Valentine's day this year, and quite possibly next year too, there would be no photo of my true love in my Hello Kitty.

Then while trying to figure out a valentine greeting to write on a card I had made for someone I have never met and never will, who also happens to be hospitalized ("Be Mine." No, "Enjoy your jello." No, "You are so sweet." Ick.) I had an idea.

Online dating sites have pictures of many people who are looking for sweethearts.Or sex, or fashion model virgins, or whatever. So I would choose a site and find my man, shrink his face to fit the locket, print, and presto! instant significant other. I'm not actually going to join the site and date these guys, I just want the pictures.

It will go something like this: Find some I like. Not based only on appearance, as I must, like most women, be emotionally attracted to a man for him to ever have a chance. So some of them will be handsome, most will be average, and some will be downright homely, but shrunk and printed and clipped to fit in the kitty anyway, because they have great partner potential. I will choose my sweetheart and stick him in the place of honor, framed behind that little hinged silver door with Kitty on guard.

After wearing this guy close to my heart for a while, I will determine that he is a habitual liar and remove him from the locket and my life. Next I'll insert someone who looks more honest and claims to love literature and children. In a week or a month, I will imagine I've found out that he hasn't paid child support since 1988, and have to peel him from the kitty and add another. Contestant number three will be funny, employed, and kind. He will stay in the kitty for a while, until one day I discover that he lost his job months ago and has been spending his days at a casino while I bust my ass at the office to buy his favorite imported beer.

Eventually I will tire of all this choosing and shrinking and trimming of the mismatches and give the locket to a little girl who still believes her prince will come.

Maybe her dad will be single.

Dead people don't drive

2010-01-26T20:51:00.006-06:00

Dear AARP:

Your quick response to my phone call is appreciated. It is interesting that you charge a 10% early cancellation penalty to dead people. Let me get this straight: your customer paid a year in advance for her policy, then because she died before the end of the policy term, you want to deduct 10% of the premium from her refund. So I take it that, in your mind, dead people can drive, and it is by choice that they cancel their policies.

I was almost ready to let this slide, because you sent the letter regarding the 10% penalty to the correct address (mine); however, you sent the refund check in my deceased mother's name and to her expired earthly address. Perhaps if you send your correspondence and checks to Mom in care of God they would arrive faster.

As I was debating the monetary value versus waste of my time over $51.00, I picked up another day's mail. There I found an AARP membership card, addressed to my ex-husband of 20 years ago. Never lived at this address, never will. And THAT, dear sirs, is going to cost you 10 percent.

Sincerely,

Deb who is almost old enough to decline your services.

Clutter Cops

2010-01-16T18:57:00.004-06:00

I have avoided the task of unpacking for months, and haven't written in nearly as long. Sometimes life throws things our way that put us in stall mode.

Before mom passed away she said "You'll have to get rid of your crap if you want my crap!" Well, I haven't disposed of anything and now have piles of mom's treasures added to mine. I have nowhere to put the stuff. Now I have my stuff, Mom's stuff, and Mom's poodle's stuff, and that's a LOT of stuff.

I stepped out of the shower the other morning to find the dog having fits and someone banging on my front door. Nobody comes to my front door, and whoever it was had to trudge uphill through two feet of snow. After peeking through the blinds to find two police officers, I briefly wondered if it is illegal to live somewhere for months without unpacking. Who could have turned me in when I'm too embarrassed to let anyone visit? A peeping tom? Did a burglar come in and become so overwhelmed with choices that he left and called the cops?

I had to step to the porch rather than let them in and get ticketed for over the legal limit of crap. "Ma'am, we're here because you have a Christmas tree up on January 16th, and your wrapping paper is still in view. There are 3 dog beds and as many blankets in your living room floor - how many pets do you have inside city limits? (One. She likes options.) Afraid we're going to have to take a look inside those boxes too."

So wet-headed, yappy poodle in arm, sock monkey slippers and all I stepped outside to see how I could assist the officers. You know how it seems every time there's a big crime story on television and the murderer's neighbor is being interviewed they look like the homeliest creature that ever walked the earth? I felt like the interviewee. The homely interviewee whose door swung open behind her, to reveal a home as homely as she.

The officers were looking for a previous resident. I considered it a warning and started cleaning.

My friend Mary

2009-11-16T19:32:00.006-06:00

Mary (not her real name) is a hospice volunteer who likes the night shift since she doesn't sleep much anyway. She is 74 years old, about 4 feet tall, with a hunchback and about three times the energy I have. She says she's good at sleeping in chairs because her brother is a midget and she slept next to him in a recliner for a while.

Mary travels a lot in her old Buick. The other day I told Mom Mary was on her way up the drive. She was supposed to be in Liberty but I knew it was her as the car appeared to barrel up the drive with no driver. Really there was a large tree in the car that appeared to be driving. I thought "Aw, she shouldn't have." She didn't. She brought Mom some wet wipes, a friendship plaque from the dollar store, and some priceless stories.

She told us about her travel adventures: On the way back from Liberty she stopped in Warrensburg at a nursery, where she got a great deal on the tree that appeared to drive the Buick. The lady at the nursery said the tree wouldn't fit in a car, and Mary said anything would fit in her car. So the lady said to pull up the drive, close to the door, and they would try to fit it in.

Mary went up the drive, thinking it was very narrow, and parked. Then the employee explained that the drive was on the other side of the building, and she had driven up the sidewalk. She had knocked numerous flats of plants off their stands in the process. Mary insisted that the employee call the owners of the nursery right then with her insurance information and said not to worry about the dent in the Buick - that was from last time.

Before I could catch my breath Mary said she does pretty well going forward, that backing up is usually what gets her in trouble.

For instance, she was at the SOS one day, "where everyone went for gas and beer and cigarettes because they were the cheapest around" and she didn't want to wait for the guy in front of her to leave the pump, so she decided she could "rock" the Buick back and forth and get out from between cars.

Would have worked except the guy behind her was standing between his car and hers and what with Mary being so short, she didn't see him. She backed the Buick into his knees right there at the SOS.

Then Mary told us she'd best get going, as she wasn't too good at driving in the dark.

The tree waved out the window as the Buick cut ruts in the yard, finding its way back to the road.

Sage Cohen on poetry and holidays

2009-11-06T20:59:00.004-06:00

I'm adding Sage Cohen to my list of things and people I'm thankful for this holiday season. Although my muse has gone into hiding recently, I still yearn for a good blog post, and here we are with more from Sage. I especially like the idea of "writing our souls into existence."

‘Tis the season to write poetry
A conversation with Sage Cohen
author of Writing the Life Poetic: An Invitation to Read and Write Poetry

As the holidays approach in a down economy, Sage Cohen proposes that poetry can provide a meaningful way forward. Author of Writing the Life Poetic: An Invitation to Read and Write Poetry, Cohen sees poetry not just as an art form, but a way of life. Following is our conversation about the possibilities of poetry today.

It’s the holiday season. Why poetry? Why now?

In today’s economy, many people are seeking alternatives to the typical holiday spending frenzy. The good news about hard times is that they challenge us to find creative new ways to give, share and create meaning. Poetry can be a powerful instrument for conjuring such alchemies.
These days people have less cash than usual. How can poetry help?

Poetry can’t change our bank statements, but it can change the way we think about wealth and prosperity. In fact, it is my lifelong relationship with poetry that has taught me that income is one thing, but prosperity is frequently something else.

For example, a few years ago, I heard Mary Oliver speak. She reported that a critic of her poetry complained that she must be independently wealthy to have so much time to lie around in the grass and ponder nature. This made the poet laugh, because the critic was reporting in an underhanded and confused way about a truth that Oliver tapped into long ago: the act of lying in the grass and listening to the world IS wealth.

The truth is, we don’t need to go anywhere special to tune in to poetry. Our lives are already inundated with sensory information that is the raw material of poems. All we need to do is slow down, pay attention and write down what moves us, intrigues us or stirs our curiosity. This does not require an inheritance or a 401K. It simply requires a willingness to welcome the abundance that is already ours, and to follow the golden thread of language wherever it leads us.

What poetry can give us is something far more valuable than money could ever buy – it gives us ourselves. Poem by poem, we write our souls into existence. Weighted in words, the spirit that animates us becomes palpable. By the same token, each poem we read offers a small window into the human condition, in which we may better recognize some glimmer of our own being.
The world seems to be falling apart around us. Why should we be focused on poetry when it can’t help change anything?

You’re right; poems may not stop the clubbing of baby seals, domestic violence, child trafficking, dog fighting, genocide, conflict in the Middle East or whatever it is that feels most difficult on any given day. But as the motorcyclist must lean into the turn to prevent a fall, poems become a kind of machinery of transport, giving us a context for leaning into the pain that we meet and safely navigating through it.

My father always said, "Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted." And poems are the treasures that can be exhumed from those undesirable experiences. Just think all of the great, poetic opportunities for understanding that lie coiled at the heart of every mistake, heartbreak, disappointment, and regret.

What if you were to literally look to your poetry practice as a way of moving through what pierces you to the core? What injustices might it help you examine unflinchingly? What epicenter of pain or grief might it help you enter and consider? How might you relax into the universal truths of divorce, death, intolerance, and change, and make a poem offering that illumines these truths with compassion?

How do you recommend that readers get started with their holiday poem-making?

I always remind people that their ordinary lives will offer more than enough source material for poetry. The following exercises are designed to get folks mining their own daily experience to see what inspired thoughts and language might be awaiting them below the surface.

Choose an activity you do regularly that is the absolutely most routinized, unremarkable event of your day. (Mine would be doing dishes.) Write down the answers to these questions about it:
Notice the physical feeling of this routine. Which muscles are involved? What kind of rhythm or tempo does it involve? Are you cold or hot, energized or depleted?

How do you feel emotionally when you do this?

What are the smells associated with this activity? (I use lavender soap, so my sink smells like a French garden.)

What do you see when engaged in this routine? (I look out at the butterfly bush and magnolia tree in my back yard. I enjoy watching meals erased from plates and glasses.)

Pay close attention to your thinking. What images and ideas bubble up as you are doing this activity?

How does the time of day or weather or location (indoors vs. outdoors, your home vs. someone else’s home, summer breeze or snowfall) affect your experience?

What wildlife, plants and trees do you see out your window at home, at work, or en route? What do they look like, feel like, sound like? What are their names? What are the visual cues and references in your home and/or workspace?

Make a list of the 20 things you come into contact with most.
Write down something else in the world that each of these 20 things remind you of. For example, The red teapot reminds me of the robin red breast. The worn wood of the mirror over the sink reminds me of the door to Grandpa’s barn. The curlicue pattern on the silver platter makes me think of storm clouds.

Think of someone you see regularly in passing but do not know well, like your mail carrier, barista or neighbor. Write a poem that imagines what their life might be like:
Who do they love?
What have they lost?
What do their pajamas look like?
What are their aspirations?
What do they eat for breakfast?
Explore your holiday archives:
What was your biggest holiday surprise?
What holiday is most meaningful to you and why?
Who do you yearn to see during the holidays?

How has Santa (if you have a relationship with Santa) satisfied you and let you down over the years?

What is the most embarrassing thing that ever happened around the dinner table with your family at holiday time?

What outfit comes to mind when you think back on past holiday celebrations?

This should give you a foundation of source material to start playing with. Circle a few words or phrases that interest you, and let those be the kindling for your poetic fire.

Don’t know where to go next? Freewriting can be a useful way to take your ideas and language a little further into the realm of the poetic. Set your timer for 10 minutes, sit down with your notebook, and keep that hand moving across the page, no matter what, without stopping, for the entire 10 minutes. You’re not trying to be brilliant here – just to get loose and let words start coming without thinking too hard. The more you practice, the looser you’ll get. And the looser you get, the more your language will surprise and delight you.

I’d like to send readers off with a thought about poetry and holiday cheer.

Egg nog, move over. Rudolph, there’s a brighter light guiding our sleigh tonight.
I’ve never experienced any holiday cheer that rivals the state of grace that poetry invites into our lives. That is why I often give poems I’ve written as holiday gifts. I print them on pretty paper, place them in an attractive frame and presto – the most treasured holiday gifts I’ve ever given only cost me the time I spent creating them.

Try it! You just might get hooked.

Wishing you all a peaceful and poetic holiday season.
* * * * *
Sage Cohen is the author of Writing the Life Poetic: An Invitation to Read and Write Poetry (Writers Digest Books, 2009) and the poetry collection Like the Heart, the World (Queen of Wands Press, 2007). An award-winning poet, she writes four monthly columns about the craft and business of writing and serves as Poetry Editor for VoiceCatcher 4. Sage has won first prize in the Ghost Road Press poetry contest, been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and been awarded a Soapstone residency. She curates a monthly reading series at Barnes & Noble and teaches the online class Poetry for the People. To learn more, visit www.sagesaidso.com. Drop by and join in the conversation about living and writing a poetic life at†www.writingthelifepoetic.typepad.com!

The Guest

2009-10-20T22:03:00.004-05:00

My mother is ill and asked me to take care of her dog. Well, not really a dog - a poodle. Knowing it would break Mom's heart to send Coco off with strangers, I said yes without hesitation. This way she can still see Coco Loco and know that she is cared for.

I've always thought standard poodles were kind of cool. Goofy looking, but smart and seemingly unaware that they look rediculous. But mini poodles just look goofy and yap a lot.

I realized just after leaving Mom's drive that the poodle has never ridden in a car, except to go to the vet. She whined and shook for three hours. After I let her out to pee she relaxed a little.

At Mom's everything is in its proper place, and if not Coco barks or growls at a misplaced object until you put it where it belongs. She doesn't know what to make of my disorganized new house. Makes her dizzy, makes her bark.

I also quickly realized that Coco Puff has not been socialized. New people, animals, and noises scare her. And she smells like a dog. So I dropped her off at doggy daycare for a bath and play, where she discovered other dogs and learned some cool tricks with balls. And got orange bows attached to her ears. I have enough balls under my couch to fill one of those McDonald's play-things. And the orange bows are going to clash with her Halloween costume.

Coco has her own room at mom's. I feel kind of sorry for her so I put her frou-frou bed and her lovey, Pooh Bear, in my bed each night. Now when she sees me getting into my jammies she finds Pooh and hands him to me to put to bed with her. This whole scenario pretty much ensures that I'll never have a man in my bed again.

I always thought I might become a crazy old cat lady, but I never expected this dang poodle thang. And now if you'll excuse me, I have to go get the baby to bed.

Blame My Mum

2009-09-21T23:21:00.004-05:00

I haven't written much lately because I've been so busy with working and moving and driving back and forth to my mother's. And searching for a plastic flower pot.

While I was on "vacation" for the move, I took a break one day to run to Target to get cleaning supplies and shelf liner. This is one of at least four differences in men and women: men move to a new place, grab their mac and cheese and liquor, and throw it in a cupboard. Women look in every cabinet, say "EWWWWW," and go shopping. Then we scrub the cabinets, line them with paper that no other human has ever touched, dust our mac and cheese boxes, Windex the liquor bottles, and contemplate the ergonomically correct way to organize the cupboards.

So I went to Target and they had the summer outdoor stuff on clearance. After choosing a flower pot for my houseplant that will need to come in soon, I studied every single thing in the store and eventually noticed shelf liner on the aisle to my right. I gave myself points for remembering why I was there and headed for the liner. Right across from the liners were sponges. Sponges of all shapes and sizes and price ranges, and I needed those too.

First thing I wanted to do when I got home was to put light bulbs in the ceiling fan. They were not in the bag. I checked the receipt. Yep, I paid for them. I'd already realized I forgot to buy shelf liner. I searched the truck in case the light bulbs fell out of the bag. They didn't. I called Target. The bulbs were still lying on the counter. They marked them "Paid and Left" as if I intentionally buy things and leave them behind, and held them for me.

I discovered that the new flower pot was perfect for the mum on my front porch. But I have two mums, so yesterday I decided to take a break and go for a couple more flower pots. Target was sold out, but they had a nice outdoor table on clearance. I didn't buy it because I couldn't lift the box and I was too lazy to find someone to help. I decided to run to another Target to see if they had the flower pot. Other Target didn't have any flower pots either, but they had a set of two outdoor chairs on clearance, that match the table at the other store. I didn't get the chairs because I didn't want to backtrack for the table that I couldn't lift.

I decided every thrift store in the world would have flower pots, so I headed to the nearest one. No flower pots. I went down the road to another thrift store, which also, for crying out loud, had no flower pots, but did have two fabulous framed photographs by Catherine Cardarelli, called Bird 2 and Bird 3. After searching the store for Bird 1, I realized I'd spent about six hours looking for a plastic flower pot and decided to go home and get some boxes unpacked--as soon as I ran to Big Lots next door to see if they had flower pots. And they did. I bought two and came home, to find that the pots were too small. I was too tired to do much unpacking and went to bed early.

On my lunch break today I decided to go to the local hardware store to get a flower pot. They had some! They were $45.00! I ran to the farm supply store, where I bought two for 10-something and raced home to finally place my mums in their new plastic. The pots were too small. One clearance-priced plastic flower pot had now cost me about $25.00 and too many hours of life.

It is not my fault that my shelves are not yet lined and the mac and cheese is still in a box somewhere on a dirty floor.

It's my mum's.

Sales Clerk Jerk

2009-08-01T21:14:00.004-05:00

Well well, I have found a small retail business that apparently is thriving in this economy, and so much so that they don't need customers. I stopped by Cartridge World thinking I'd check them out for printer ink and maybe save some money. (Why does a tiny piece of plastic with a teaspoon of ink in it cost more than a Xerox copier?) I found the store with its red neon OPEN sign on, and headed in. There was a customer being helped by one employee, and the other came toward me as soon as I got in the door. I was pleased to get quick service.

What I got instead was "I'm closed."

"Closed?"

"Yeah, we close at five." Not sorry, we're closed. Just closed.

I glanced at my watch. Five minutes to five. I checked it against the clock in the car. Five to five. I checked the time on my cell phone. Five to five. I figure it would have taken about 2 minutes max to hand me a cartridge and take my money, and he with no customer service skills could have still been gone by closing time.

By 5:07 I was at Target, where the employees were friendly and helpful. I bought my ink and 57 dollars worth of other stuff just to prove I don't need Cartridge World Discount Ink Clerk Boy.

But I did save that flyer his boss gave me last time she stopped by my office trying to round up business - I can't wait to see her again.

another weekend in the country

2009-07-27T21:58:00.003-05:00

I stopped for gas next door to this place and wish I'd gone in. I bet they have some great souvinirs. The interesting thing here is that the sign on the ground next to the blue trash barrel says Fuzzy's Bait & Booze. I guess they decided Bait Booze is better -- it's bait! it's booze! Why carry both? How does it stay on your hook? If you want to stop in, Fuzzy's is right across the highway from Osceola Cheese, whose slogan is Ummmm, Good.

another craigslist nightmare

2009-07-19T20:27:00.004-05:00

Here's a recent craigslist post:

Legal and Administrative Assistant (Kansas City MO)

Reply to: job-dpmgy-1240855091@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]Date: 2009-06-26, 12:05PM CDT
Legal assistant, secretarial position, with some office management. High professional standards required. Comfortable and collegial atmosphere, respectful of personal and quality lifestyle. Must be a team player and willing to learn. Respectful to staff, deference given, quiet and relaxed, along with high quality work required. Small firm, specializing in unique legal area, located in luxurious renovated loft in West Bottoms, adjacent to Downtown Kansas City. Legal administration to coordinate office work and paralegal skills. Assist attorneys in legal work in highly regulated industry and preparation for hearings. Typing, transcribing, good computer skills, answer telephones and filing. Office administrative skills as may learn or have capabilities, including billing. Small office or résumés will be kept in confidence. Send resume to legalstaffhr@gmail.com.
Location: Kansas City MO
Compensation: Comparable according to skills, health, parking and personal days.
Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

******************************************************************************

There's so much wrong here that I don't know where to begin so I guess I'll just send them my resume with this cover letter:

Dear legalstaffhr:

Enclosed please find my resume in response to your ad for a legal assistant, secretary, office manager, or whatever it might be that you seek.

I'm so pleased that you require high professional standards and offer a comfortable atmosphere, but I'm a bit confused about "...respectful of personal and quality lifestyle." Does this mean you will respect me whatever my lifestyle, or that I must respect your "personal and quality" lifestyle? Could you please define "quality lifestyle?"

I am a team player and willing to learn, so I'd love it if you could teach me what "...deference given, quiet and relaxed, along with..." means. Does this mean I'll get big rewards for being quiet? I can do that!

You also require "legal administration to coordinate office work and paralegal skills." As evidence of my high quality work, I must say that I believe you want someone who is capable of coordinating work who also has paralegal skills, however, what you have asked for is someone to coordinate paralegal skills. Will I be coordinating my own skills or others'?

I am experienced in "assisting attorneys in legal work." I used to assist attorneys in HVAC work, and once had a short stint assisting attorneys in street-sweeping work, but now I just assist attorneys in legal work.

I meet all of your requirements for office skills: typing, transcribing, etc. and whew! I'm so glad you don't require a proper grasp of the English language, including but not limited to spelling and grammar. Trying to stay on top of those things really interferes with my personal and quality lifestyle.

Could I have a large office so that my resume will be kept in confidence?

I see that compensation for this position is "comparable according to skills, health, parking and personal days." This must be where your "deference given" comes in, and let me tell ya, I'm excited about finally being rewarded for my health, parking, and personal days! I just LOVE personal days, and I can parallel park a semi, so these things combined with my health and skills make me the perfect candidate for this job.

I'd love to meet with you in person so that we may further discuss my skills and your personal lifestyle and how much you pay for excellent parking.

Sincerely,

Deb

Joy

2009-07-10T18:53:00.003-05:00

The kid has done it again. Jess now has her first solo exhibit in a real live gallery. The Stacks Gallery in the Carnegie Arts Center will show Jess' photography exhibit, "A Certain Joy" from July 17 through August 28. If you're in Leavenworth stop in! If you're not in Leavenworth, drive! The artist's/opening reception is Friday the 17th, from 6 to 8 p.m.

Hope to see you there!

For more info and gallery hours, visit www.leavenwortharts.org

Welcome Sage Cohen

2009-07-06T20:19:00.006-05:00

I'm thrilled to introduce you to Sage Cohen and her new book, Writing The Life Poetic: An Invitation To Read & Write Poetry, which does not have a blue cover - I'll fix that :) If you write anything you need this book. If I had to review it in one word, it would be FUN!

Her "TRY THIS!" exercises are fabulous, like this one: "Put on a cape and declare yourself the superhero of something: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, dog walking, properly conjugated verbs--whatever sweet spot you are ready (or even better, not ready) to claim."

So here we go! Please post your comments and questions for Sage, and of course there's a brand new shiny copy of Writing The Life Poetic (in the correct colors) waiting for one lucky participant.

Q&A with Sage Cohen, Author of
Writing the Life Poetic: An Invitation to Read and Write Poetry
a new book from Writer’s Digest Books

How does poetry make the world a better place to live?

I think poetry fills the gap left by the so-called objective truth that dominates our media, science and legislation. Many of us want to comprehend and communicate the complexity of human experience on a deeper, more soulful level. Poetry gives us a shared language that is more subtle, more human, and—at its best—more universally "true" than we are capable of achieving with just the facts.

How has integrating the reading and writing of poetry into your life impacted you?

I will risk sounding melodramatic in saying that poetry saved my life. I stumbled into a writing practice at an extremely vulnerable time in my early teenage years. Poetry gave me then, as it does today, a way of giving voice to feelings and ideas that felt too risky and complicated to speak out loud. There was a kind of alchemy in writing through such vulnerabilities...by welcoming them in language, I was able to transform the energies of fear, pain and loneliness into†a kind of friendly camaraderie with myself. In a way, I wrote myself into a trust that I belonged in this world.†

Do people need an advanced degree in creative writing in order to write poetry?
Absolutely not! Sure, poetry has its place in the classroom; but no one needs an advanced degree in creative writing to reap its rewards. What most people need is simply a proper initiation. I wrote Writing the Life Poetic to offer such an initiation. My goal was that everyone who reads it come away with a sense of how to tune into the world around them through a poetic lens. Once this way of perceiving is awakened, anything is possible!

Why did you write Writing the Life Poetic?

While working with writers for the past fifteen years, I have observed that even the most creative people fear that they don’t have what it takes to write and read poetry. I wrote Writing the Life Poetic to put poetry back into the hands of the people––not because they are aspiring to become the poet laureate of the United States––but because poetry is one of the great pleasures in life."

Who is Writing the Life Poetic written for?

Practicing poets, aspiring poets, and teachers of writing in a variety of settings can use Writing the Life Poetic to write, read, and enjoy poems; it works equally well as a self-study companion or as a classroom guide. Both practical and inspirational, it will leave readers with a greater appreciation for the poetry they read and a greater sense of possibility for the poetry they write.
What sets Writing the Life Poetic apart from other poetry how-to books?

The craft of poetry has been well documented in a variety of books that offer a valuable service to serious writers striving to become competent poets. Now it’s time for a poetry book that does more than lecture from the front of the classroom. Writing the Life Poetic was written to be a contagiously fun adventure in writing. Through an entertaining mix of insights, exercises, expert guidance and encouragement, I hope to get readers excited about the possibilities of poetry––and engaged in a creative practice. Leonard Cohen says: "Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash." My goal is that Writing the Life Poetic be the flame fueling the life well lived.

Is it true that your book and your baby were conceived and birthed at the same time? What did you learn from this process?

Yes, I often refer to my son Theo and Writing the Life Poetic as my multi-media twins! I found out I was pregnant with Theo about two months into the writing of the book and I was making final edits to the book in layout two weeks after he was born. It was fascinating to have two of the most potent creative processes I’ve ever experienced happening in tandem. What I learned is a great respect for the birthing journey; it is one that has completely rewritten me along the way.

I am writing a monthly column this year for The Writer Mama zine titled "The Articulate Conception" which chronicles my journey of becoming an author and a mom. Through the course of ten essays, I am exploring this double-whammy birth trajectory--from the twinkle in my eye to the bags under my eyes. The first column is available here: http://thewritermama.wordpress.com/2009/01/20/the-articulate-conception-planting-seeds/.

What makes a poem a poem?

This is one of my favorite questions! I’ve answered it in my book, but it’s a question that I’m answering anew every day. And that’s what I love about poetry. It’s a realm where invention is not limited entirely by definition; there is room enough for the endless possibilities of the human. Every time we try to draw a line around what a poem is, something spills over into the next frame, shifting the point of view and demanding new names: olive, token, flax, daffodil. A poem is all of these, or none of them, depending on the quality of light and how the blade in the next room stirs the night.

What do you think people’s greatest misperceptions are about poetry?

I think the three greatest stereotypes about the writing of poetry are:

1.That one has to be a starving artist or deeply miserable to write great poetry.
2.That reading and writing poetry are available only to an elite inner circle that shares secret, insider knowledge about the making of poems.
3.That poetry does not fund prosperity.

I hope very much that Writing the Life Poetic helps offer alternatives to some of these attitudes and perceptions.

I’d love to conclude with a poem of yours. Would you be willing to share one?

Of course! Happy to!

Leaving Buckhorn Springs
By Sage Cohen

The farmland was an orchestra,
its ochres holding a baritone below
the soft bells of farmhouses,
altos of shadowed hills,
violins grieving the late
afternoon light. When I saw
the horses, glazed over with rain,
the battered old motorcycle parked
beside them, I pulled my car over
and silenced it on the gravel.
The rain and I were diamonds
displacing appetite with mystery.
As the horses turned toward me,
the centuries poured through
their powerful necks and my body
was the drum receiving the pulse
of history. The skin between me
and the world became the rhythm
of the rain keeping time with the sky
and into the music walked
the smallest of the horses. We stood
for many measures considering
each other, his eyes the quarter notes
of my heart’s staccato. This symphony
of privacy and silence: this wildness that
the fence between us could not divide.

About Sage Cohen
Sage Cohen is the author of Writing the Life Poetic: An Invitation to Read and Write Poetry (Writers Digest Books, 2009) and the poetry collection Like the Heart, the World. An award-winning poet, she writes four monthly columns about the craft and business of writing and serves as Poetry Editor for VoiceCatcher 4. Sage curates a monthly reading series at Barnes & Noble and teaches the online class Poetry for the People. She has won first prize in the Ghost Road Press poetry contest and been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. To learn more, visit www.writingthelifepoetic.com. Drop by and join in the conversation about living and writing a poetic life at†www.writingthelifepoetic.typepad.com!

Barbie Ate My 401(k)

2009-07-04T17:09:00.006-05:00

Most people blame the state of the economy for the demise of their retirement funds. I blame Barbie.

It started out innocently: As a child I received the occasional Barbie gift at Christmas and birthdays. Grandma Margie and Aunt Millie hand made tiny clothes for my dolls. I saved my Barbies, and when Jess was two, unpacked them for her. Things kind of snowballed from there.

As a victim of only child-single parent syndrome, if Jess wanted another Barbie (and she always did) she got it. Barbie car? Done. My size Barbie - yep. Vet Barbie, Doctor Barbie, Rock Star Barbie, Holiday Barbie, Barbie shoes, Barbie clothes, Barbie hangers, Barbie food, all of Barbie's friends and relatives and all of their stuff - uh-huh, Barbie really does have everything, and it's all in my garage.

About the time Jess turned 21 I realized she doesn't really care to save things for sentimental reasons. And really, does it have so much sentimental value when you have zillions of them? She agreed to pass the Barbie collection along to another child.

I know a little girl who is going to look at these piles of Barbie things and say "SWEET!" and it will make me happy to give them to her.

She can't have my Barbies though - I'm saving them for the day I can play Retired Barbie.

a much shorter post...

2009-06-29T22:27:00.002-05:00

Thanks to Meg over at megs-musings.blogspot for a tip on a great contest. Real Simple's Life's Lessons Contest - essay under 1500 words on when you realized you'd become a grown-up. Deadline 9/7/09. Great prizes.

Sage returns from her travels this week so we'll do the q&a about Writing the Life Poetic sometime next week. I'll confirm a date with her and let you know. I'm shooting for full-moon Tuesday. Seems kind of poetic :)

Jobs I've Hated, Part One

2009-06-28T20:27:00.003-05:00

I once went to work for a man named Lester. I'd tell you his last name but that's also the company name, which unlike Lester, still exists.

I got the job through a temp agency. They said it was a great place to work, and I'd love the people. The next week the rep from the agency called me to get directions to the place, so I'm thinking she had no clue what Lester's place and people were like.

Part of the agreement when accepting employment was to have your photograph taken. I learned why one day when the company president had left his album lying out - It was titled "Ryan's Angels," and contained a photo of every female employee that had come and gone, complete with degrading comments.

There was a "reception" desk, even though nobody ever came to our offices, with an alarm clock stationed dead center. The alarm went off every day at 2:00 p.m., as warning that Lester might show up any time. As soon as he walked in the door I was to take his mail to his car, put it exactly where he wanted it, which was on top of 300 other untouched mail packets still in his car. Then I was to check the gas gage, and if it read less than 3/4 of a tank I was to call the service department at Lester's company next door and have them fill the tank.

Lester never knew my name - he usually had Linda, his assistant, pass the orders: "Find Mr. Mean (not his real name) a mirror for his Navigator that does not say Objects in Mirror are Closer than they Appear. She said these things with a straight face. One day Linda sent me to Mean's office. He said to go to the vending machine next door and make a list of everything in it. I knew he knew what he wanted. "What are you craving?" I asked. "Just make the list."

I returned with the list and he pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and told me to bring him two candy bars. I tried to get him to keep the money and pay later but he insisted I carry more than I made in a month to buy two treats. I returned with the candy and the wad of money and got instructions to put one of the candy bars in his glove box. I imagined him holding candy bars at different angles to the rear view mirror, studying how close they appeared to be. After worrying about carrying all that money, it was not the money I was accused of taking. Lester forgot he told me to put a candy bar in the car, and accused me of stealing it.

Lester once called from his bathroom, while doing his business and looking at a magazine ad for a watch. He wanted one like it, and today. When he wanted to talk to his wife, who was at home with him, he called and told us to get his wife on the phone. If he wanted to speak to his daughter who ran the company next door, he called and told us to get her on the phone. Need I tell you that every call also had to be recorded?

Thanksgiving came, and my child became emergency room ill. Her little neck was swollen wider than my hips, she had a fever, and she hurt. After numerous physicians looked at her, they sent us home with no diagnosis, but told me to make sure she had no activity whatsoever until she got treatment with her regular doctor on Monday, as if this were mono related, she could "bleed out". While anxiously waiting for Monday I called a coworker to give a heads up that I'd be absent. Before the doctor's office opened Monday morning Linda called: "Too bad you won't get paid for the holiday since you're missing the day after. Company rules."

After my daughter's recovery, I wrote a letter to management, enclosing a copy of the "rules" along with proof of the medical emergency that kept me from cataloging candy bars and shopping online, for a fool with too much money. It was determined that an error had occurred and I was promptly paid for the holiday. Suddenly there was a need to change my hours, requiring I stay in the office (alone) until 6:00 p.m. every Friday, in case Lester needed something.

Lester didn't need anything, but I did. The following Monday morning I called in done, and joined the other angels in the album.

Spellcheck

2009-06-19T23:38:00.005-05:00

I can't stop browsing craigslist. I'm also a stickler for proper spelling. This is a very bad combination.

Usually I just giggle and move on when I see listings for "rod" iron, or "chester" drawers (or draws) but the other day, after seeing more ads for dinning tables than I could stand (I quit counting at 54), I snapped.

In a maniacal outburst brought on by menopause and caffeine and people who can't be bothered with spellcheck, I clicked on "Create New Post." I knew this was a CL rule breaker - you can't post an ad just to complain about another - but I was out of control.

I frantically typed my opinion of dinning, dinning, and more dinning, while trying to be helpful by explaining that you dine in your dining room on your dining table at dinner time. I hit the post key with no concern whatsoever for the feelings of those who can't spell. They certainly had not considered my feelings before posting their dinning tables.

Soon the emails started arriving from those who wanted to thank me for saying what they, too think but didn't have the hormonal/caffeine malfunction to say. I went to bed.

The first email of the next morning informed me that my post had been flagged and removed. The CL furniture section still had comments though, and lots of them, from people who wanted to share the typos and misrepresentations that make them crazy. My favorites were Amish Maid China Cabinet, and Queen Mattress with One Night Stand.

One post said that I am a very mean person, but they hoped I had a blessed day anyway.

The final note was from another CL addict, recommending I visit a blog called yousuckcraigslist. Now when I feel the urge to correct those wacky missppellersss, I can just visit that blog and laugh.

It was a blessed day.

My Baby is 21

2009-06-16T22:24:00.004-05:00

Remember when we played "I love you more than...
and it was always something like Diarrhea! or All my other children! or Pilonidal Abscess! Or Ruptured Appendix!

I love you more than everything.

Happy Happy Birthday.

Tell me a story

2009-06-15T21:15:00.006-05:00

Narrativemagazine.com has all sorts of writing contests. There are entry fees, but the prizes are big. They usually have a weekly puzzle, but the most recent was a contest for best six-word story. I haven't had time for much serious writing effort outside my current class, but six words? I couldn't resist. It turned out to be a great writing exercise. If you can think up six words for a story, those six words can get your muse moving toward 600 or 6000.

My six-word story: I could not tolerate his thinking.

A contest winner? Probably not. A longer story waiting to be written? Yep.

What's your six-word story?

Is it Luck, or...

2009-06-11T21:29:00.002-05:00

Elizabeth is the winner of a copy of Christina Katz's Get Known Before the Book Deal, from our Q&A with Christina. Which gives her additional incentive to not scratch that poison ivy and make it to the next writers' group! Congrats!

Soon I will post a Q&A with author and poet Sage Cohen, and this is where I just have to say something about synchronicity. In The Artist's Way, Julia Cameron defines synchronicity as a "fortuitous intermeshing of events," and "the hand of God, or good, activated by our own hand when we act on behalf of our truest dreams, when we commit to our own soul."

Wow, heavier than the goofy stuff I usually write about, but the synchronous doors were definitely flying open when I met Sage, and they continue to swing. In exchange for research and spreadsheets, Sage is now my mentor and coach, and I can only hope that she needs me for a long, long time. She's brilliant. She's kind. She thinks I'm funny. I tell her what I need for the week ahead, she tells me how I'm going to get what I need, and then it all seems so simple. Then we do it again.

I found both of Sage's books in my mailbox the other day, after days of feeling stressed over the day job and class deadlines and essays that wouldn't write themselves. I didn't have time to read until I fell into bed. I opened Writing the Life Poetic: An Invitation To Read & Write Poetry,(her first book is Like the Heart, the World) to a random page, and discovered Chapter 55, The Art of All Day, which got me to thinking about the time I have, how I waste it, and how I want to spend it. Sage later suggested I schedule my writing time and reading time and all of "my time" just like I do my work-for-pay time and appointments. By having it all on the page I see what I accomplish, and where I waste time that I could put toward my writing goals.

There are 80 short chapters here, all appearing to have been written just for me, a non-poet. How about I'm So Adjective, I Verb Nouns: On Word Choice, or Cultivate a Writing Ritual, or Save Acorns: Keeping Track of Your Great Ideas, and one of my favorites, Chapter 72: Rejection Happens. This is great stuff for poets, and great stuff for non-poet writers like me, too!

I can't wait for you to meet Sage and Writing The Life Poetic.

Thanks For Playing!

2009-06-05T17:33:00.002-05:00

I don't know about you, but the chat with Christina was fun and educational for me. Thanks to everyone who stopped by to read and write. Since I have no idea how to do those random computer draws (did you know your computer can do that?), I'll bring the names and the hat with me to writers' group and let someone else draw.

Now for my gripe of the day. When I go to a book store because I want to buy a book, it irritates me when they don't have the book I want. Of course they can get it, but I don't want it in about a week, I want it now! After getting online and then making numerous phone calls, there are 3 copies of Get Known in the midwest, none of them being a reasonable driving distance from my home. I'm on a mission to fix this. But in the meantime, I'll just order them from Amazon, and the lucky winner will have to delight in anticipation for a few more days.

Welcome Christina Katz

2009-06-02T18:02:00.005-05:00

I'm proud to say that my blog post today is an interview with author Christina Katz. She's not only livin' the writer dream, but can teach us all more than a thing or two about livin' it too. Please check out the interview, and feel free to post questions for Christina in the comment section. Because I'm so excited over Christina sharing, I'm going to share too! I'll draw a name at random from those who post comments/questions and the winner will get their very own copy of Get Known Before the Book Deal. YAY! I hope I win... OH wait...

An Interview with Christina Katz

Christina Katz is the author of Get Known Before the Book Deal, Use Your Personal Strengths to Grow an Author Platform (Writer’s Digest Books). She started her platform "for fun" seven years ago and ended up on "Good Morning America." Christina teaches e-courses on platform development and writing nonfiction for publication. Her students are published in national magazines and land agents and book deals. Christina has been encouraging reluctant platform builders via her e-zines for five years, has written hundreds of articles for national, regional, and online publications, and is a monthly columnist for the Willamette Writer. A popular speaker at writing conferences, writing programs, libraries, and bookstores, she hosts the Northwest Author Series in Wilsonville, Oregon. She is also the author of Writer Mama, How to Raise a Writing Career Alongside Your Kids (Writer’s Digest Books).

Q: What is a platform?

CK: Long story short: Your platform communicates your expertise to others, and it works all the time so you don’t have to. Your platform includes your Web presence, any public speaking you do, the classes you teach, the media contacts you’ve established, the articles you’ve published, and any other means you currently have for making your name and your future books known to a viable readership. If others already recognize your expertise on a given topic or for a specific audience or both, then that is your platform.

A platform-strong writer is a writer with influence. Get Known explains in plain English, without buzzwords, how any writer can stand out from the crowd of other writers and get the book deal. The book clears an easy-to-follow path through a formerly confusing forest of ideas so any writer can do the necessary platform development they need to do.

Q: Why is platform development important for writers today?

CK: Learning about and working on a solid platform plan gives writers an edge. Agents and editors have known this for years and have been looking for platform-strong writers and getting them book deals. But from the writer’s point-of-view, there has not been enough information on platform development to help unprepared writers put their best platform forward.

Now suddenly, there is a flood of information on platform, not all necessarily comprehensive, useful or well organized for folks who don’t have a platform yet. Writers can promote themselves in a gradual, grounded manner without feeling like they are selling out. I do it, I teach other writers to do it, I write about it on an ongoing basis, and I encourage all writers to heed the trend. And hopefully, I communicate how in a practical, step-by-step manner that can serve any writer. Because ultimately, before you actively begin promoting yourself, platform development is an inside job requiring concentration, thoughtfulness and a consideration of personal values.

Q: How did you come to write Get Known Before the Book Deal?

CK: I already had a lot of momentum going when I got the deal for a very specific audience. I wrote a column on the topic for the Willamette Writer’s newsletter. Then I started speaking on platform. When I gave my presentation, "Get Known Before the Book Deal," at the Writer’s Digest/BEA Writer’s Conference in May 2007, Phil Sexton, one of my publisher’s sales guys, saw it and suggested making the concept into a book. Coincidentally, I was trying to come up with an idea for my second book at that time and had just struck out with what I thought were my three best ideas. My editor, Jane Friedman agreed with Phil. That was two votes from people sitting on the pub board. They converted the others with the help of my proposal, and Get Known got the green light.

Q: Why was a book on platform development needed?

CK: Writers often underestimate how important platform is and they often don’t leverage the platform they already have enough. At every conference I presented, I took polls and found that about 50 percent of attendees expressed a desire for a clearer understanding of platform. Some were completely in the dark about it, even though they were attending a conference in hopes of landing a book deal. Since book deals are granted based largely on the impressiveness of a writer’s platform, I noticed a communication gap that needed to be addressed.

My intention was that Get Known would be the book every writer would want to read before attending a writer’s conference, and that it would increase any writer’s chances of landing a book deal whether they pitched in-person or by query. As I wrote the book, I saw online how this type of information was being offered as "insider secrets" at outrageous prices. No one should have to pay thousands of dollars for the information they can find in my book for the price of a paperback! Seriously. You can even ask your library to order it and read it for free.

Q: What is the key idea behind Get Known Before the Book Deal?

CK: Getting known doesn’t take a lot of money, but it does take an in-depth understanding of platform, and then the investment of time, skills and consistent effort to build one. Marketing experience and technological expertise are also not necessary. I show how to avoid the biggest time and money-waster, which is not understanding who your platform is for and why – and hopefully save writers from the confusion and inertia that can result from either information overload or not taking the big picture into account before they jump into writing for traditional publication.

Often writers with weak platforms are over-confident that they can impress agents and editors, while others with decent platforms are under-confident or aren’t stressing their platform-strength enough. Writers have to wear so many hats these days, we can use all the help we can get. Platform development is a muscle, and the more you use it, the stronger it gets. Anyone can do it, but most don’t or won’t because they either don’t understand what is being asked for, or they haven’t overcome their own resistance to the idea. Get Known offers a concrete plan that can help any writer make gains in the rapidly changing and increasingly competitive publishing landscape.

Q: What is the structure of the book and why did you choose it?

CK: Writer Mama was written in small, easy-to-digest chunks so busy new moms could stick it in a diaper bag and read it in the nooks and crannies of the day. Get Known is a bit more prosaic, especially in the early chapters. Most of the platform books already out there were only for authors, not writers or aspiring authors. To make platform evolution easy to comprehend, I had to dial the concepts back to the beginning and talk about what it’s like to try and find your place in the world as an author way before you’ve signed a contract, even before you’ve written a book proposal. No one had done that before in a book for writers. I felt writers needed a context in which to chart a course towards platform development that would not be completely overwhelming.

Introducing platform concepts to writers gives them the key information they need to succeed at pitching an agent either via query or in-person, making this a good book for a writer to read before writing a book proposal. Get Known has three sections: section one is mostly stories and cautionary tales, section two has a lot of to-do lists any writer should be able to use, and section three is how to articulate your platform clearly and concisely so you won’t waste a single minute wondering if you are on the right track.

Q: At the front of Get Known, you discuss four phases of the authoring process. What are they?

CK: First comes the platform development and building phase. Second comes the book proposal development phase (or if you are writing fiction, the book-writing phase). Third, comes the actual writing of the book (for fiction writers this is likely the re-writing of the book). And finally, once the book is published, comes the book marketing and promoting phase.

Many first-time authors scramble once they get a book deal if they haven’t done a thorough job on the platform development phase. Writers who already have a platform have influence with a fan base, and they can leverage that influence no matter what kind of book they write. Writing a book is a lot easier if you are not struggling to find readers for the book at the same time. Again, agents and editors have known this for a long time.

Q: What are some common platform mistakes writers make?

CK: Here are a few:
They don’t spend time clarifying who they are to others.
They don’t zoom in specifically on what they offer.
They confuse socializing with platform development.
They think about themselves too much and their audience not enough.
They don’t precisely articulate all they offer so others get it immediately.
They don’t create a plan before they jump online.
They undervalue the platform they already have.
They are overconfident and think they have a solid platform when they have only made a beginning.
They become exhausted from trying to figure out platform as they go.
They pay for "insider secrets" instead of trusting their own instincts.
They blog like crazy for six months and then look at their bank accounts and abandon the process as going nowhere.

I’ll stop there. Suffice it to say that many writers promise publishers they have the ability to make readers seek out and purchase their book. But when it comes time to demonstrate this ability, they can’t deliver.

My mission is to empower writers to be 100 percent responsible for their writing career success and stop looking to others to do their promotional work for them. Get Known shows writers of every stripe how to become the writer who can not only land a book deal, but also influence future readers to plunk down ten or twenty bucks to purchase their book. It all starts with a little preparation and planning. The rest unfolds from there.

Q: Couldn’t any author have written this book? Why you?

CK: I have built a career over the past decade empowering writers. I’ve developed and built my own platform as a writing-for-traditional-publication specialist, and I’ve worked with others as a writing and platform-development instructor. Many of the people I’ve been working with are landing book deals and while the other hundred-or-so writers I work with a year are developing their skills, I notice patterns of behavior—what leads to success, where writers get stuck, and how I can be helpful in these rapidly changing times in the industry.

I’ve witnessed too many writers, who were off to a great start, hopping online and quickly becoming very lost. I started to write about platform in Writer Mama, How To Raise A Writing Career Alongside Your Kids, but I quickly noticed that more details on platform development were desperately needed. My platform is based on helping others. I have a vested interest in seeing the people I work with—and those who read my book—succeed. Writers are my tribe.

Thanks Christina - writers are my tribe too!

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

2009-05-31T21:29:00.010-05:00

You know how you have to provide entertainment to children when road tripping in order to save your sanity? I was travelling alone today and 20 minutes into the 3 plus hour trip I started saying "Am I there yet?"

While fantasizing that I could twitch my nose and magically be home I noticed a sign: "Eat Here or We'll Both Starve." Before I quit giggling over that I saw this one and made a quick u-turn to get a photo. It says "Gitt'er Tan Special, B-O Subs & Ice Cream (YUM!), Fast Cash, and then 31 Topping Pizza, $7 Each." How could you not stop? Of course they also rent videos and sell fried chicken.

The next shop sign said "Paw and Guns." I wanted to stop in and ask about Ma but knew I'd never get home if I stopped at every sign with missing letters.

If you know where I can get a large supply of these letters please contact me. I have a *great idea for my next road trip.

*Not recommended for children under 12.

New date for Q&A with Christina Katz

2009-05-26T19:08:00.003-05:00

Mom gave me some monogrammed sheets last Christmas. It's so much easier to find my bed now.

I don't know where that came from. I'm here to tell you that the Q&A with Christina Katz will post next week, as Christina is in New York at the Writer's Digest/BEA Conference, leading a workshop on... what else? Platform Building!

We'll do the Q&A one week from today, Tuesday, June 2. Please check it out! Maybe we'll do a random drawing for monogrammed sheets from all participants : )

Christina Katz is Coming to a Blog Near You

2009-05-24T15:09:00.004-05:00

Happy Weekend!

On Tuesday evening, May 26, I will post/host a Q&A with the fabulous Christina Katz, author, teacher, and expert on getting published and platform building. After reading the Q&A you can post questions for Christina and she will drop by to answer.

She's smart. She's successful. She's living the writer dream. Mine anyway. Please take the opportunity to "meet" Christina and learn from her expertise. You will be glad you did.

Party On!

2009-05-17T22:37:00.003-05:00

I went to one of "those" parties today. The worst kind - makeup. Those of you who know me may have noticed that I don't spend much money on makeup. I only went because the hostess is a friend of mine, and it's horrible to have one of those things and have nobody show. I anticipated sitting around a table with a few other chicks, doing the whole facial thang and trying out all the newest shades of eyeshadow and lipstick. I didn't apply makeup before going, 'cause really, what's the point? I did pluck my eyebrows, just so ya know.

I walked in 5 minutes late, and the party had started. My friend was not giving a presentation, her whatever-they-call-it in multilevel marketing person was. The perfectly madeup lady stopped talking and about 30 people stared at me. They all had makeup on. And nice outfits.

If we asked questions or made intelligent comments during the presentation, we got carnival tickets for a drawing for prizes, which were the tiniest gift bags you've ever laid eyes on, containing very valuable merchandise!

Soon a pink cadillac rolled up the drive, and the "director" entered, to take over the sales pitch while the other perfectly madeup lady walked around the room squirting one lotion after another into our palms. Damn my hands were oily, er, soft. All that stuff on my hands is the stuff they sell for your face. So my question was "Why aren't we putting it on our faces?" Then "Is this stuff guaranteed? I mean, for $48.00 for only one step of this 27 step beauty routine, I anticipate looking like Jennifer Aniston by this time next month." They gave me 2 tickets for the questions and 3 more to shut up.

After putting 27 layers of lotion on our hands they offered 5 tickets each to those who agreed to host a party within the next 2 weeks. And then the party was over. A makeup party with no makeup. What next? A tupperware party with no plastic? A lingerie party with no thongs? A candle party with no wax? It's all too much to think about, so I'm going to bed. With a little Ponds on my face.

Just Wondering

2009-05-05T20:26:00.004-05:00

Why do lottery tickets say "do not iron?"

Why do privacy laws prevent colleges from disclosing student grades to parents, but allow them to send the bills to parents?

Since the revenue from the riverboat casinos is supposed to support our schools, why can't the college send the bill to Harrahs?

Chaos and Poetry

2009-05-01T20:34:00.006-05:00

Writing the Life Chaotic. It's so me. Sage Cohen has written a book called Writing the Life Poetic, an Invitation to Read and Write Poetry. Knowing I got my subtitle idea from her, I popped an email over and asked her permission, and she gave me the go ahead without making fun of me.

I have written one poem in my life, and that was an accident. Poems just fall out of Sage. At least she makes it seem that way. Whether you're an aspiring poet or not, her books are worth checking out (pun intended) and her website, http://www.sagesaidso.com/ is a work of art. Smoking cats, creme brulee, what's not to love?

So my blog is now your invitation to read about chaos, and please accept Sage's Invitation to Read and Write Poetry.

Further Thoughts on Uvulas and Stuff

2009-04-30T20:12:00.004-05:00

I started another Sedaris book last night, and right there on page 12, he wrote about uvulas. Great minds think alike I suppose (reference Stuck Happens post below), although probably a lot more people write to David and tell him how funny his thoughts on uvulas are. He says he wants to take a pair of scissors and snip his uvula off. That it would bleed a lot but wouldn't kill him.

One time when kid was 7 or 8, the Baptist Sunday School bus (wait! grammar alert! I think the bus was nondenominational) pulled up in front of the house to drop her off. Instead of the usual run to the door, there was a woman dragging kid through the yard toward me. Kid had a gash at the brow bone, and that sucker was bleeding buckets. The church lady said it was nothing but a scratch, and she'd be fine. I don't think Jesus would have said that. I mean, if David's uvula were missing and he was bleeding heavily, or a child in my care were injured, I really would show some concern. After that experience kid rode a different bus, without incident. Or accident.

A Love Letter

2009-04-22T20:24:00.007-05:00

Dear David Sedaris,

Much as I adore you, we have to stop sleeping together.

I'm exhausted. My boss is losing patience with my rapidly declining competence. I can barely function. Just this morning I put 7 scoops of Folgers in his coffee pot, typed "please sing below," on legal correspondence, and announced that I was meeting my daughter at Tanners for snake night.

Each day I tell myself I'll break it off, but come bedtime, I can not resist you. I set the alarm and leave the lamp on, as I've already spied you lying there waiting for me, my patient lover under green cover, whispering "Let's get Naked" to me, but I won't, as I haven't finished Me Talk Pretty yet.

I succumb, thinking just for a little while...I'll barely touch him...just indulge for a few minutes...and Dammit I'm done for again.

Hours later, spent, I shove you to your side of the bed and turn out the light. It's almost time to go back to the office.

I haven't been this exhausted since I slept with Alexander McCall Smith and his lady detective. The end is near, David.

Love,

Deb

Free T-Shirts

2009-04-21T21:07:00.005-05:00

Check out my Writer's Relief badge over there. There - to the right... If you post one of their badges on your site for 30 days, Writer's Relief will send you a free writing themed T-shirt. Maybe it has to be a writing related site. I can't imagine they'd send a shirt to the owner of "Hottest Cafeteria Ladies on Campus" or "101 Previously Unknown Uses for Dog Doo" but who knows.

Yeah baby! You clothe my back, I'll promote yours. Marketing. Christina Katz over at Writers on the Rise is talking a lot lately about marketing. Face it, there's more satisfaction to writing if people are reading what you write. It gets way better too, when people are willing to pay for what you write, and then if they point others to you too, well, jackpot.

In other words, if you don't do some shameless marketing, whether giving away t-shirts or hitting the dusty trail to speak about your book or somehow getting the word out that you write whatever you write, aint nobody gonna read it but your mama. Or in my case my kid.

So yes, Writer's Relief, I'll post your badge! Yes, Christina, I'll tell everyone how fabulous I think you are! Because we all need promotion. Sidebar: I would not recommend promoting not so good peoples... be selective. Writer's Relief has lots of valuable information for writers on their site, and Christina Katz is like, well, if we could call an 866 number to vote on our favorite writer idol, I'd dial. Check out the May/June issue of Writer's Digest for her article "Build Your Power Platform," part of a 20 page spread on how to stand out to agents and editors.

Now there's something I need to read. Wonder if they'll give me a t-shirt.

Stuck Happens

2009-04-16T19:46:00.004-05:00

My kid only gets unheard of ailments. When she was pretty young she came to me one day and said that the flappy thing in her throat was stuck. Huh? I looked, and sure enough, that flappy thing that hangs at the back of your mouth was stuck to the roof. Neither of us knew that uvula is the correct name for the flappy-thing-that-hangs-there-unless-it's-stuck-and-therefore no-longer-flappy. We watched the flappy thing for a day or two, thinking it would hang again, but no, so I called the doctor.

When we explained the problem to the doctor she rolled her eyes and said something like "Right. Your flappy thing, which we call a uvula by the way, is stuck to the roof of your mouth." Then she looked, and her shocked professional opinion was that the flappy thing was indeed stuck. She went off to get some hand tools while we basked in the joy of being one up on the doc. She returned with long metal thingies (also not the correct medical term), told child to open wide, and suddenly, all on its own, flappy thing was flapping again. There was nothing for the doctor to do except bill me.

My writing thing gets stuck sometimes. Like dealing with the wayward uvula, I ponder the problem in all its strangeness for a day or two, call for help when determined necessary, and eventually, after much worry for no reason, the writing thing starts swinging again, all on its own.

Merry Christmas!

2009-04-14T19:45:00.005-05:00

I'm one of those procrastinating people who does my Christmas shopping last minute even though each year I swear I'm starting early. I carefully choose greeting cards and even get around to making a list of those I will send them to. I have a nice collection of boxed greeting cards, and let's just say I'll need to buy a lot of one cent stamps. My sister, Organized Mama, suggests that I send Easter greetings instead, thus avoiding the holiday stress and still playing nice. Great idea, and I meant to do it.

For writers, it is time to think about the December holidays. Got ideas rolling around in your mind? I'm getting mine on paper and finding my markets. Most publications, with the exception of small locals and newspapers, would like for us to celebrate the 4th of July by sending them our holiday query or article. So I'm working hard at getting in the spirit. My lights are already up. Oh, wait...

Road Writing

2009-04-12T21:24:00.003-05:00

I have just returned from a visit to my mother's, in the country. The long drive allows me time to think, to do what I call road writing. Of course I don't really write while driving, but I can work out the details that have been missing from a story in progress, or something as simple as a sign marking a county line might lead me to a new story. Sometimes I feel compelled to pull over and snap a photo, usually of something I must have seen a thousand times already on this same drive.

At mom's the field has turned to a lush green just weeks after being burned off. The lilacs are blooming and the bluebirds are making nests. The winter finches are still at the feeder that will soon be replaced with sugar water for the hummingbirds. It is quiet and peaceful there, always.

I return to my duplex, where I notice the neighbors have continued their lawnscaping by dropping more cigarette butts and beer cans at my door. When I asked them nicely to clean up after themselves, they said it looks like this because they don't smoke in the house. Their loud and odd noises that awaken me at all hours lead me to believe that they don't sleep in the house either.

So I am back on my quest to find my own home, where the yard will be littered with flower beds and birds and lilac bushes, and I can sleep peacefully. Almost like being in the country.

2009-04-03T20:12:00.000-06:00

Today's post just has to be a brag instead of a nag. My beautiful brilliant daughter Jess is one of 34 students chosen to show in the Kansas City Artists Coalition's Undergraduate College Student Exhibition, a juried show that opens next Friday, April 10th. YAY JESS! Here's a sneak preview of her work. I just love this shot. For more info visit http://www.kansascityartistscoalition.org/

Jess also took the photo in my previous post, which just screams Spring is Here!

More than a few people have commented over the last few years that it is crazy for anyone to go to college to study art, and asked me how I could not only allow, but encourage this. I can and I do because it's a very smart and brave person who lives who they really are.

2009-04-02T19:47:00.000-06:00

What a lousy rotten rainy cold miserable day.

But tomorrow is jeans day at the day job, and as Hoops and YoYo say, It's I don't care Friday, so hope springs eternal. Until butt chewin' Monday!

WELCOME

2009-03-31T20:07:00.000-06:00

I recently took a class with Writer Mama extraordinaire Christina Katz, and she asked us what, if we were to publish our own magazine, we would call it and who our target audience would be. I have no idea. I'm not going to start a magazine, but will start my blog.

I used to be too nice. Doormat nice. Those days are gone. "If you can't say something nice..." has been replaced with "Sorry, it just fell out of my mouth." So welcome to my blog, where the fallout can be found in print, for anyone who would like to spew along with me, and hopefully have a chuckle or two in the process.

The other day my daughter and I were going to meet at Borders for coffee and magazine night. I got there first, saw two ladies, one probably the other's mother, heading out, so I waited and held the door for them. They said nothing. I was the invisible doorman. "You're welcome" fell out of my mouth. They were just engrossed in their own mother-daughter conversation and had forgotten their manners, which I realized when they said "Oh, sorry." I shared this experience with Jess when she arrived, and a couple of days later she called my cell, laughing. She had just arrived at Starbucks, held the door for an older lady who had her hands full of lattes, and then used my line when the woman ignored her kindness. Granny spun on her heels, probably contemplating slinging a cup of burning hot coffee at the door-holder, and spewed "OH How RUDE!" Yes, how rude indeed.

Perhaps even more surprising than people who forget their pleases and thank you's are the numbers of people who show genuine surprise and appreciation for a simple act of kindness like holding a door. So hold the door for someone today. It makes you feel good. Usually.