The Secret About The Secret

Several years ago, this book took the US by storm.

Someone gifted me a copy, but I have not read it.

A friend did read it, and subscribed to the theories. She explained to me how it works, which sounded a lot like Abraham and the Law of Attraction: if you believe something wholly and completely, it will come to pass.

My take?

If that were true, no babies would ever go to bed hungry.

#CrackpotTheory: Color, Food, & the Weather

I love bright  colorsI hate “tasteful” décor: ecru, beige, eggshell, and other shades of brown and white;  deep greens; dark reds. Who gets to decide what’s tasteful? Please!

One thing I’ve noticed is cultures that indulge in bright colors also tend to eat spicier foods. Foods with flavor. Full of taste. Yes, I know curry was invented to hide the taste of rotting food–but so was mayonnaise.

Other correlations I’ve noticed is that cultures with bright colors and spicy foods tend to be in warmer climates. They also seem to be closer to their emotions–more aware of their passions and unafraid to show them.

Color makes me happy. Spicy food makes me happy. Hot summer days make me happy (you can keep the humidity). Maybe I need to move.

 

 

 

 

Texture: It’s the Details

My brain has always focused on the details of a scene. The minutia. I remember the wallpaper of my bedroom when I was two. It was tan with cowboys and lassos on it. My grandmother wore my favorite apron the day my parents brought my baby sister home from the hospital: white, with blue tea kettles on it. The kitchen was yellow, and the bassinette was next to the stove.

I think putting the details into a book adds texture. The details reveal character. Susan Elizabeth Phillips is a genius at doing this. What I Did for Love is full of texture, and that’s why it’s one of my favorite books. Jennifer Crusie does it in Bite Me.  The books I go back to and re-read  all the time have the little details that appeal to me.

I need to remember to add these things in my own writing.

 

Go Bags

Go Bags are bags one has on the ready to grab and go. They contain items specific to  the event. I have several.

Here is my RWA Chapter bag (it contains things like my handout binder and my name badge) and my generic writing go bag (contains a box of tissue, headphones, surge protector, water bottle, and a little basket I keep next to my laptop for lip balm, hand cream, cell phone, etc. The pencil bag containing my portable office* migrates between these two bags.

Other go bags include film festival, baseball, and critique.

 

*subject of a future blog

Do you have go bags?

 

Two Seemingly Unrelated Memories

I don’t pretend to know everything. Heck, I don’t even know most things. But I do have an awareness of the world on a certain level. There was one year, though, that I began to wonder about that.

It began in the summer. Swatches were new and “the thing.” I made a comment about them, and the sister of a colleague looked at me and said, “How do you know about Swatches?” I looked at her and said, “We do have cable TV, you know.” OK, the city in which I live may not be the hotbed of the latest fashion trends, and probably never has been, but seriously? This was the 1980s. The Pony Express was long gone.

A few months later, a man I’d just started seeing  and I were watching a movie. The movie was not set in the US. There was a scene with some sort of fireworks-y celebration going on, and I murmured, “Oh, it’s probably Guy Fawkes Night.” The man paused the tape, turned to me and said, “How do you know about Guy Fawkes Night?” Now, this man was not British or any other nationality where Guy Fawkes Night is observed. I had just as much right to “know” about Guy Fawkes Night as he did.  The budding relationship got nipped right about then.

I read. That’s how I know things.