I’d promised myself this year I would work towards corralling (some of) the chaos in my life. That begins with becoming more organized even—gasp—creating lists, and—bigger gasp—actually looking at those lists instead of forgetting them—and HUGE gasp—actually doing things on the lists and then scratching them off. Yeah. WHUPOW, y’all!
That includes updating my blog, and as well updating my website. Blogwise, I went through theme after theme and this one just kept shining out at me. It made me happy. It made me feel energetic. It feels like MOVEMENT and JOY and POWER and INTELLIGENCE. And that’s where I want to focus my life: MOVEMENT & JOY & POWER & INTELLIGENCE, and all the innards and outards of life and science and writing and editing and relationships and family and friends and health and food. The white background bothered me at first, but it works for me too, for that blank page means: what’s next in the story?
Of course, not having a Strict Theme to my blog is just more of my chaos, right? Maybe. But better to dump it all here than my brain expand and explode, right? RIGHT! WHEE HAW! Or, explode my friends’ and family’s brains with my BOINGITY BOINGITY.
I will also gladly tell you that I’ve started a new novel. More on that later.
My editing business has been doing quite well despite my not “advertising” it thusly and so’ly and ecterly. Word of mouth and repeat clients is an awesome thing: thank you.
My published novels: welp, more on that later too.
More on EVERYTHING later. Cause that’s how I want my blog to be. Whatever I want it to be. And let the readers come, or let them not. This will be a place I can express whatever I am in the mood to express.
And you are welcomed to the madness, if you so dare to be.
I will post at least once a month, and I hope to post twice a month. That’s a promise I’m making to myself: Promise Made.
First off, though I don’t like talking-up my books, when there is a sale on one of them, I always do pass that along. Until December 15th, Family Graces, the 3rd in the Virginia Kate Saga Trilogy, is on ebook sale for a tiny little bitty .99cents. I appreciate all your support and love and help and all you do—I adore my Readers! And I know the pic below is huge, but that’s how it came out when I put in the link: lawd!
Now, for the business part, if you will. I couldn’t figure out why I was not writing on my blog, since I wanted to, love science and space, and the research I’d do to find tidbits here for you all.
It struck me finally that the title no longer works. Because, well, I just don’t feel lonely at this time in my life. So, I’m going to ponder this—give it some thought—and think of a new way to approach my blog, and a tweak of the title. Though, I still want to write about science and space and all those wonderful things that capture my imagination and attention.
I do recognize my sometimes flighty-chaotic-discombobulated nature—haw!—when it comes to my blog (uh, just to my blog? Um . . . . Dang!) probably has about three loyal readers hanging on. laugh! But I write on, when I can. Right? Right! Write!
I am still a monthly contributor at Writer Unboxed—if y’all aren’t reading WU, head thee over there!
Now, on to my pondering and I will figure out a new title for this here blawg.
My recent trip to Texas, a 2000 mile round-trip, has me thinking about space travel. Researching the various this’s and that’s of it, I found the image to the left. That monkey looks as if he knows he ain’t coming back.
Just as a reference: Space officially begins at about 62 miles above our Earth’s surface, called the Karman Line.
The first living creatures to be launched into space were fruit flies—they were sent up with some corn so they’d not be hungry—way back in 1947, aboard a V2 rocket. They went 106 miles, and the capsule was actually recovered and the fruit flies weren’t any worse for wear.
A year later came the first monkey, named Albert. But, alas poor Albert; I knew him well (not). Um. Ugh. Yeah. They think he may have suffocated before he even left the ground. Dang. The rocket only made it up 39 miles.
Albert II, who fortunate for him had NOOOO idea what happened to the preceding Albert, was sent up in a V2 rocket, soaring to 83 miles. Though Albert was the first monkey to be successfully launched into space without meeting his fate before leaving the ground, there was a problem with his parachute on the recovery capsule as it hurtled to earth and—well, you can guess the rest if you like. RIP Albert II. RIP.
After that, other Alberts (III, IV, V) boarded their rockets, and none survived—either they died on impact or during the flight.
Apparently, it is said that all of the monkeys were anesthetized for the flight. Hmmm.
The infamous Miss Baker. “I’m claustrophobic, y’all! ungh!ungh!”
But at last! Two monkeys in 1959—Able and Miss Baker—flew to 360 miles, tucked in aboard a Jupiter rocket. Their recovery capsule landed about 1700 miles off range of where they were supposed to land at Cape Canaveral, but they were found and recovered, and perhaps became celebrities, maybe as spokesmonkeys for various products and services.
My recent travel was not so dire and dangerous, though perhaps it is in its own way—traffic, crazy drivers, high winds, bad storms, exhaustion, a hotel from hell—lawd!
There is vulnerability (at least for this lonely woman) to traveling alone. So I have some general tidbits for you, should you also travel alone, or will one day do so.
1). If you are traveling with a pet, and will be stopping for the night, you would be better off checking out hotel pet policy ahead of time. Many chains do not allow pets. Some allow them but with restrictions, or a non-refundable fee (one hotel charges $100 nonrefundable fee!). Some chains do allow pets for free—like LaQuinta. LaQuinta hotels are a crapshoot, honestly. Some of them are seriously outdated. Do your research and it’ll save you from being road-weary and searching.
Read reviews. There are always the 1-star “I HAAAAAATED IT!” reviews and the 5-Star “I LOOOOOOOVED IT!” reviews, but I like reading those 3 and 4 star reviews.
Also, maybe I’m just paranoid and weird, but the first two things I do when I stay at a hotel, any hotel, no matter how much it costs or where it is, is to check the mattress for signs of bed bugs (UGH!)—I have never had a room with those, but I check it every time (pull up the sheets and look at the mattress, particularly along the seams, for cleanliness—you can google this if you dare). Then I take Clorox wipes and wipe down the remote, the light switches, the toilet, and a few other surfaces—what? Better safe than sorry! All hotels, no matter how nice or what the cost per night, get this treatment. It’s the only way I can relax. I will also admit that in the middle of the night, I shine my phone under the covers just to make sure nothing is there. Yeah. My head is a scary place.
I seeeee youuuuu!
Also, if you have “trouble” at any hotel, report it. I stayed at a hotel with a weird wonky door that I didn’t discover until the next morning that you could see a little bit into my room! EEEEK! I was NOT HAPPY! While the staff was amazing, and the hotel clean, that hotel needed serious updating and renovating. It was unacceptable. They refunded my money. I won’t be staying there again. Research, y’all! Ahead of time!
2). Welcome Centers are becoming better and better about cleanliness, safety, and, well, welcoming! I always stop at a Welcome Center when entering a new state. There’s places to walk about, and if you have a pet, they have designated areas for the pets. There’s usually coffee, and nice greeters (during business hours mostly). Vending machines if you are interested in that. And the bathroom facilities are usually clean and safe.
3). Rest areas are a mixed bag. Some of them do a great job of keeping the area and facilities clean and safe. But, I have a rule: if I pull up to a rest area and don’t feel safe, or have one of my “wonky” feelings, I’m out of there. Always best to listen to your gut. As with Welcome Centers, rest areas are much better than they used to be, but some are still a little “shady.”
4). Have water handy for you and for your pet. I used to limit my water intake so I’d not have to stop so often, but now I realize that part of the joy of the trip is stopping and stretching my legs, taking in some scenery. And keeping yourself hydrated and your body stretched out will keep you awake and aware and feeling better.
5). Don’t consume sugary snacks and drinks! Same goes for high “bad” carbohydrate foods, like a lot of fast foods. Eating sugary/high carb foods will make you feel sluggish and sleepy. Higher protein snacks/food is a better choice.
And, concerning No’s 4 & 5 – if you are traveling alone, you MUST be alert! There is no one to switch off so you can rest/nap, unless you pull over to nap, and I will never do this. So consider what you take with you and where you stop to eat as an important part of your travel. Continue reading →
Uranus is the seventh planet from the sun and not visible to the naked eye. It’s an interesting and unique planet worthy of our attention. Don’t you feel that about yourself sometimes? Especially as a Lonely Woman, or Lonely Man? That you are no longer visible but you are unique and interesting and worthy of attention? You’ll hear, “Get yourself out there! Be around people!” But, it is exactly the “getting yourself out there” thing that is confusing and daunting and scary, isn’t it?
But I digress. Because I like to say/write: I digress.
Uranus’s axis is tilted at 97-98 degrees, so the planet rolls on its side for most of its rotation around our sun. This rotation is called retrograde—opposite of Earth and other planets (besides Venus and Pluto, which also spin in a retrograde direction). In these retrograde planets you can imagine that the sun would rise in the west and set in the east. Though, Uranus is so tilted on its side that some of its orbit points its poles right at the sun so there’s 42 years of sunlight at one pole while the other is in complete darkness for 42 years—that sounds like my moods sometimes; hahaha! The 42 years of sunlight/darkness is during Uranus’s solstice; during the planet’s equinox it is a little more “normal” in its “seasons.”
It takes 84 years for Uranus to orbit the sun—Earth takes 365 days. Imagine that for your birthday I pick you up in my Lil Log Spaceship and take you to Uranus. Let’s also imagine your birthday is today, July 16, and, let’s say you were born in 1970. If you were back on Earth you’d be 46 years old. But if you were with me on Uranus you’d only be 0.54–notice the decimal y’all!—and what would be your second birthday wouldn’t be until July 20, 2054! I bet you’d miss all the cake and ice cream and presents and would scurry on back to earth. As for me? Well: Pitiful Lonely Woman Alert!—my last birthday was spent—guess, no really, guess!—yeah: alone. Dang. So a birthday once a year or once every 84 years—hmmmmm, gotta think about that one. Like Charlie Brown says (and I don’t exactly quote): We don’t mind being alone and lonely so much, we just don’t want a holiday(or birthday) to emphasis it. Awwwwwwww!
On Uranus, a 115 pound person would weigh 102. Not a huge difference like some of the other celestial bodies—for example, a 115 pound person would weigh over 3000 pounds on the sun but only 19 pounds on the moon! I’m gonna have my cake and eat more of it too on the Moon.
Uranus is an Ice Giant planet. There’s an ice mantle that surrounds rock and more ice. Its atmosphere above consists of ammonia, water, and methane ice crystals—this gives it its gorgeous pastel blue color.
Now here is a weird thing: because of Uranus’s atmosphere, it is thought that it may rain diamonds! Imagine diamond-hail falling down on and around you. As well, It could be that there is a layer of liquid diamond. I’m not a diamond kind of woman, but I’d love to have me a big ole pretty jar of liquid diamond. Now I bet that would be interesting and beautiful. Dang! My precious.
Many people believe Saturn is the only planet with rings, but Uranus has rings too (so does Jupiter and Neptune). They are small rings made of dust and small boulders.
Neptune has 27 moons. Can you imagine looking up and seeing 27 moons? They were named after William Shakespeare and Alexander Pope characters—like Puck, Juliet, Ariel, Cupid, Miranda, Oberon, Caliban, etc. etc.
For more on Uranus, see this video below:
Some pronounce this planet Ur-ran-us and others Ur-anus. I admit I picked this planet today because I was saying “Your-Anus” in my head, and since I kicked ass yesterday, that was my reason. Yeah. Well. What can I say? Laugh. I have my own thought-processes.
And the reason I kicked ass is because I was able to make a couple of repairs on my car without any help—because there IS no help. When you are a Lonely Woman/Man, you are responsible for everything, and that includes car repairs and maintenance. And that’s what I want to talk to you about today, besides Uranus, that is! The more we can do on our own, the more kickass we feel. The more empowered we feel. Before I opened up that hood, I was worried about what those repairs were going to cost me, and where would the money come from? How much more can my groaning credit card take? I’d been putting it off, and it wasn’t safe to do that. I was tired of the anxiety over it.
You are allowed to look pitiful if it’s your birthday and you are by yourself being a Charlie Brown. Just say’n
Stress . . . worry . . . obsesses . . . anxiety . . . or, open the danged ole hood and just Try It.
The repairs I made saved me a trip to a mechanic (other than the “check engine” light that I will talk about), and everything I did was completely FREE! I included a video (below).
These repairs were done on a 1998 Subaru Outback. Your car may vary. Refer to video below if you want to “see” what I’m talking about. And be careful about safety: Engine OFF; hood secured, and any other areas of safety necessary. Your car may be different from mine, so just be Smart about things.
Problem: One of your headlights is not working. It’s not the bulb, because either you’ve had that replaced, and/or you notice the light sometimes works.
Solution: I always keep my engine off! Open the hood, secure the hood safely. Now, look around at what appears to be connectors and connections leading to the headlight. Behind the bulb you’ll see wires connected to a “plug” –unplug this connector and make sure all the wires are secure. Press the wire connections in, brush/blow away any dirt and dust. Plug the connector back in. If you are lucky, as I was, the headlight will come on! Just be sure you are not forcing things—if it isn’t something easy to disconnect, maybe it’s not supposed to be disconnected!
Problem: Windshield wiper cleaner not working. No motor sounds; no water.
Solution: Again, engine off, look under your secured hood (safety always please!), and find your windshield wiper fluid container. Make sure first it has fluid. Then look for connectors/connections-wiring leading to the fluid container. Check the wires and connections—I like to press them, push them in, move wires out of the way so they don’t hang up on something. Press on the connectors to make sure they are secured. Sometimes it’s just a loose wire or connections rather than a bad part!
If you have motor sounds but no water comes out to clean your windshield, then look for the small tube that goes from the windshield fluid container up to your hood. In my case, that black rubber tube coming from the windshield wiper fluid container was disconnected from the white plastic connector on the hood. I simply connected the two, turned on my wiper cleaner, and VOILA! Done!
Problem: “Check Engine” light suddenly comes on. Right after I drove my car after these repairs, my check engine light came on. This has never happened before and I was about to panic, but I knew it had to do with something I’d just done. I drove right to a local mechanic (in this case Waynesville Tire—and they were awesome). I told them the repairs I’d done.
Solution: They hooked up a device and all they ended up having to do was put in a code to turn off the check engine light indicator. The mechanic explained that some things will cause that sensor to go off and indicate a check engine light when there is nothing wrong with the engine. We figured that when all that water sprayed in my engine from that loose tube, it somehow caused the sensor to go off. It cost me nothing. So “check engine” doesn’t always mean something bad or catastrophic. If your check engine light comes on, don’t let someone scare you in to some huge repair. Take your car to someone you trust and ask them to try putting in the code to turn off that check engine light. If it continues to come on, then you may have something to address. However, in my case, that was the solution!
Next give-away is next post. And I draw from people who’ve “liked” or commented (here or on the post that shows up on my Facebook Page) from the last drawing until now, so more people are included and it makes it more fun. So on the posts I don’t have a give away, your name still goes “in the hat” for the next drawing.
During the next few posts, I’m going to delve into the area of – gasp – Dating! Or Not Dating, as the case may, or should, or could be. Stay tuned.
If you like Southern/Appalachian/Family Saga fiction (sometimes with a supernatural touch), then I hope you will consider one of my novels (or short story “snacks”) by clicking on this link to my Amazon Page. I appreciate your support!
It is the forgotten playground of a god, or God. Almost there. Almost Just Right. Almost Earth-like . . . more on that later.
Smaller than Earth, it does have two moons so that in itself makes it nice to visit in my Lil Loghouse Spaceship. Though, it’s often difficult to see the moons, because of the dust storms kicking up. The wind howls, and you can hear it if you click on this video—as well as see a sunset tinge the sky blue. You can hear the sounds of Mars from space on this video.
From space, Mars is beautiful in its own way—if you like red, and I do. There’s so much iron in the soil. And it’s cold. 80 degrees below zero. And I forgot my coat on Pluto. Oh well! When you are a Lonely Woman, you don’t have anyone to remind you to grab your coat, or to make sure your shirt isn’t on inside out, or fix the tag that’s sticking up in the back, or acknowledge your existence when you return to Earth from Mars. There’s not even a Jesus to wipe off your Mars-dusty feet, either. But I digress . . . .
On Mars, there’s canyons, volcanoes, craters. Clouds, fog, wind. Tornados. There’s gravity—though one-third less than Earth has. If you dropped a cup of coffee on Mars, it would fall slower than if you dropped that cup of coffee on Earth—maybe you have time to grab it, but then I suppose everything would move slower. Just like with Pluto, which I wrote about below, you’d weigh less: if you weighed 100 pounds on Earth, you’d only weigh 37 on Mars. You could also jump higher on Mars. Wheeee! Though after a while, jumping higher means nothing if there’s nothing to jump for, or no one to show how high you are jumping and laughing while you scream “Isn’t this cool?” We must have witness to coolness or it just doesn’t feel as cool.
It takes a little less than twice as long for a year to pass on Mars than it does on Earth—plenty more time to fail at your New Year’s resolutions; am I right? One day on Mars is only 20 minutes longer than on Earth. What to do with those twenty minutes? What to do. Waste it? Make it count? Scientists think that at one time the planet could have had liquid water, or at least could support oceans. They think that something may have struck Mars and flung out a lot of its atmosphere into space—
That happened to me. I was metaphorically struck by something, or if I’m being honest, by someone, and parts of me flung out into space so that I am left altered. I am Mars—all howling winds and dust storms and I am next to all this Life and Abundance and I am not Goldilocks—Not Just Right—and . . . more on that in a second.
Mars is the closest thing there is to Earth, and scientists think it could support life. As long as we don’t think of it as Life as We Know it On Earth.
I don’t believe in God. Not any longer. And not for quite some time.
Okay, that came out of the blue, right?
Doesn’t that “mass” look a little like our continent?
As I travel our Galaxy in the lil spaceship, I see our beautiful Earth among all the other planets so inhospitable. I know that Earth is in the “Goldilocks Zone,” meaning Earth is situated in the “just right” place in our solar system not only to support life, but life so lush and varied that it boggles the mind how we became who we are and what we are—Random Acts of Nature. Because, I randomly think, if there were this Higher Being creating, why not Mars? Why would a god so magnificent and awesomely and powerful stop with one planet? Why make Mars “almost there” but not go there? Would a god realize his limitations? Did he/she/it want us to be the Lonely Planet? Did he/she/it feel abandoned so abandoned the entire project? Would a god or God be the loneliest being in not only this galaxy, but in all the galaxies? Maybe God or gods created just what he/she/it felt—a world full of lonely-hearted people looking for a way not to be lonely; a world full of the Always Searching for Something that isn’t there until it is and then it isn’t.
If you are the Lonely Woman traveling the galaxy looking down at the busy earth, and the desolate planets all around it, you feel the absence of God not the presence. You don’t see this Miracle—instead you see Beautiful Acts of Random. You see how a planet right next door just because it is not in The Perfect Spot, but almost is, is not able to sustain the life as Earth does.
You know what I miss most about believing in a god and Jesus and all that? Not the fire and brimstone—I mean, face it, the God(s) man created are abusive and mean and incredibly cruel and why would I pray to that? This God throws you in a lake of fire and watches you burn—how sick is that? And though Jesus would want to kiss your blistered feet, even he has to turn his back on you once you do whatever it is that is not pardonable. And there you are screaming out their name, begging for mercy where there is none. That sounds like a really interesting novel that I’d read once and be so disturbed I’d never read again. I have done much thinking on this. I find science comforting. Very comforting. I find a god or Gods unsettling and more like a fairytale told to misbehaving children to get them to Act Right.
But what I miss about Jesus, you see, is that as a Lonely Woman, you lie in bed at night and there is no one to listen. You speak aloud to hear your voice, and you “pray” to the Universe but you know no one or no thing hears you. The dark is darker. The night is nightyer. The loneliness lonelier. You think that if it were your last night on Earth, who would be there to witness your death? Who would cry and scream and shake their fist to the sky? It would only be after no one had heard from you that they’d begin to worry and then make their grisly discovery. You try not to think about these things. But you do. So you reach out to neighbors and friends and family and find ways to make sure you are Seen and Heard and Discoverable very quickly.
Earth may be the God Zone, but Mars is the No God Zone, and that is where I am hovering right now, right above Mars, looking down at a dust storm fierce and howling. When I land, I’ll walk its dusty soil and know that no Big Being in the Sky would leave Mars so desolate—so close to Earth yet so far. Here’s a Rover on mars.
It’s as if the God Story is unfinished. As if this Being started a project in a petri dish, the Great Scientist in the Sky, and then grew bored. Or gave up. Or perhaps thought, “This is enough for me. This is just right.” Or, as I lie in bed at night looking out the window at the stars and as the moon shines on my right foot, I know just how random I am. There is some comfort in that. I can absolve myself from so much responsibility.
But there is no one to say that to. No one to talk to and say, “Guess what? I just had an epiphany!” And there’s no Jesus there to nod his sage head and say, “Good work, my daughter.” There’s no God up there smiting me, either, which is a relief. Who wants to be smit’ed?
For Lonely Woman in this strange Unfinished Galaxy, there is You in the night. You. You. Just You. You. Just You. Unfinished. Almost but Not Quite Just Right.
Easy Repair of the Day: Is your ceiling fan making noise and driving you nuts? Did you know that sometimes all you need to do is clean it? That there may be some dust on it, or on the top of the blades where you can’t see it, and that is causing it to be out of balance. Turn the fan off, take a rag and clean the blades top and bottom. Turn the fan back on and be amazed that it fixed the clickity sound or the clackity sound or the click-clack sound. If this does not work, or only partially works, you may have to go to your local hardware store (or big hardware store) and purchase a ceiling fan weight balance thing to try that. But the easier fix without even leaving your spaceship is first to try cleaning the blades. I cleaned the dust from mine and it worked!
If you love Appalachian/Southern Fiction, I hope you will head over to Kat Magendie Amazon Page and pick out a book. I will have book give aways (mine and other authors’) from time-to-time, but today–chocolate. TG & Sweetie are two of my best sellers. But there are more to choose from.
Give away of the week: Chocolate! Since we talked about Mars today, I am going to give away some Mars chocolates. I don’t like the “first commenters” thing. So, at the end of the week (Saturday), I will randomly draw a number out of a box and whomever is the *that number* commenter is the one who receives the give away. If I receive only 1 commenter, then, well, I’ll have to pull from the box until I get number 1 *laugh*
The Milky Way Galaxy. Home. It’s not very big, as galaxies go. Though, progress intrudes as it often does—the Milky Way is moving towards the Andromeda Galaxy at seventy miles per second, and what was One will become a bigger messier Two that becomes a strange unknown One. Much as we humans do—we hurtle towards one another knowing the collision will be beautiful and fiery, and end in our spiritual or romantic or sexual (or all three) deaths. Perhaps before that happens, the sun will have already swollen to a red giant and, well, we won’t survive that either. We have no choice in the matter—death comes, so we must do the living, hurtling towards what we think will make our lives more exciting, bigger, better, sexier. Often, if we are careless, hurtling towards hurt—hurt(ling).
Oh but do not fret, for the aforementioned collision is millions of years away. Or, as in the case of Human Endeavors, it has already occurred and there is quite the mess to clean up and the resurrecting of Life not as it became known, but as it will become. Advice will be given freely: Think Positive! There are people who have it much worse! You can do it! It’s not so bad is it? Buck up and stop whining!
Looking out of the spaceship window, there is a vastness of sky interspersed with Stuff. Though one would think traveling into space would be a silent and black existence, it is not. It only seems that way for the Lonely Woman when eyes turn too far inward; but yet, even then, the brain is as the galaxy is—full of gas, dust, black hole, planets, moons, and stars, never still, ever-changing. In the midst of it all, one cannot see to think clearly with the dust and gas so thick, yet there are wonders there, beauties, discoveries. There is also the Hidden inside the black hole that one does not want to be too close to. Why, you may ask?
The massive black hole is a greedy dark mouth that devours all the beauty and wonder and light. But yet, you wonder, inside the blackness, where no one can see, the wonders and beauty are still there, are they not? Still, you know the danger of Black Hole. No one really understands it, and that makes it bigger and badder. It is ravenous, dark, moving, surreal, dangerous, scary. Even before you enter the Event Horizon and are sucked in, you are drawn to it, drawn to it, drawn to it, drawn to that strange awful blackness.
In this galaxy, there are over 200 billion stars, maybe up to 400 billion, and that makes up only part of the home of the Earth home. Back on earth, there are about 7.5 billion people—the world could possibly support 9 or 10 billion. (Go to this World Population Calculator and see how the number changes yet stays the same as it calculates births and deaths.) And yet, for the Lonely Woman, there is One. And the inside of the spaceship has a silence so loud it bangs upon the eardrums a tune that says: Alone Alone Alone Alone Alone Alone Alone, to the tune of the heartbeat. Turn your head this way and that, and find the spot that turns off the sound, brief respite you’ll cover up with alcohol, silly inane tv shows, work, or long walks in the atrium side of your ship.
The thing about being alone is people are afraid of the vastness of it, or ashamed of it, or think that it means they are somehow Not Quite Right. But often, the Lonely choose it. Because they must. One must learn to be alone before one can learn to be, well, not alone. So while it is a choice, it also has its challenges.
Earth is noisy, and Lonely Woman recoils, retreats to the safety of the ship. Yet in space, it is not as silent as one would imagine. Though sound is not as it is on Earth. Sound in space is eerie—it is the sound of loneliness, beautiful but frightening—it is a sound that both entices and repels. You want to listen, yet you want to run away from it. (Visit this website called “Can You Actually” that has YouTube videos of the sounds of planets, including Earth.)
Turning from the window, thoughts turn to the basics: how to navigate a busy galaxy when it is but you at the helm of your spaceship? And that is what this journey will be. Effectively, or sometimes ineffectively, navigating the galaxy as One, which includes that of Home Earth. What will you eat for One? How will you repair the spaceship as One? Where are safe places to go, as One? What to do when no one has your back but you? What if you are sick? What if . . . what if . . . what if? How to . . . how to . . . how to? Why, how, when, where? Thus, yes, the name: The Lonely Woman’s Guide to the Galaxy.
I hope to help. Or at least commiserate when I cannot help. And, perhaps you out there will offer your own solutions and ideas for how you navigate the Galaxy—not just as one, but as one of the billions of shining stars out there in this Milky Way Galaxy.
And today, to speed us off on our journey, as promised, I have a give-away. While I won’t always do it this way, and it will not always be a book from me, or a book by someone else, for I would grow bored with that, I do not want to seem as if I’m ‘trolling for comments,’ which I am not; so, that written, today, since it’s the first day of our journey, I will offer a Kindle copy of one of my books to the first three commenters (your choice of books, and to do with as you will – give away or keep). If you comment and do not wish for a copy, it won’t hurt my feelings, just say so. Lonely Woman does not get her panties in a twist about such.
I hope you will join in. How ironic that this blog could very well be the loneliest of places, as well? Ha! I can navigate around that, too. Yes.
Author writes book. Book is published. Book is read. Book is reviewed. Author reads reviews. Author is happy to see some great reviews. Author is devastated to see the bad reviews. Author begins to stew on those bad reviews. Author cannot think of anything but those bad reviews.
In the extreme, the author may comment back to the reader, telling her just how wrong she is to feel the way she feels about the book. Another author quietly sits, reading and re-reading the bad review—looking for a message, a theme, something-anything- that will tell them just where they went wrong and how they can fix it so they never have to feel this way again. And there is the author who laments on social networking how much a review has hurt him, made him feel small, made him question what he is doing and why, and will everyone hurry over and write a good review, and maybe even tell the bad reviewer how they suck for their opinion?–>(Oh, please do not do this, author!)
Author begins to lose sight of just how much it is really none of the author’s business what someone writes about their personal experiences of reading a book.
I stopped reading reviews a long time ago—right after my first book (Tender Graces) came out. Oh, I was reveling in the great 5-star reviews! I was feeling on top of the world when suddenly there amongst those 5-star reviews appeared a 2-star. Oomph! Kicked in the stomach feeling, a sickening crash—dark clouds amass, the world is coming to an end! Or wait a minute. Why would I not expect that to happen? Of course it must happen! I made a decision right there not to read that review or any other future reviews, good or bad, hightailed it out of Amazon, and never looked back.
Because it’s none of my business what a reader writes in a review of my book.
I went back to work. With each new book, I kept my promise to myself not to read reviews, and it has served me well. Kept my sanity—well, most of it. Being an author isn’t the easiest thing as it is—we worry about a lot of Stuff. A whole lot of Stuff. Massive amounts of not so crazy along with really stunningly crazy Stuff. Any Stuff that I can toss out of my worry barrel (I started to write “jar” but we all know it’s a gigantic barrel) is one fewer thing to obsess over. Right? Right! Especially if it is not in my control.
If it is not in our control, why are we still trying to control the uncontrollable?
Some will say we authors must read reviews to learn something about ourselves and our books, but I personally disagree. The review is not for the writer, but instead for the reader. If a book is good it will have good reviews, and it will have bad reviews. It will be hated by some readers and it will be loved by others. But guess what? If a book is badly written it will have good reviews and it will have bad reviews. It will be loved and it will be hated. One reader’s filet mignon is another reader’s can of dog food. We cannot all have the same tastes and likes and dislikes. Opinions are what make this world so interesting. Opinions and variations of character and thought and being sparks discussion and lively debate. It’s why there are so many books out there in so many different genres or even the same genre but with different stories and characters and thought and action and place and time and circumstance–so many people with so many different brains to stimulate to please or not to please, whatever the case may be.
We authors need to get out of the way of the readers’ opinions.
Really, an author who cannot handle the really bad review should never go look. It’s personal, but not Personal in the way some authors may experience it. It’s personal to the reader and how the book makes her feel, or how the book makes him experience what is happening in that created world.
The review has nothing to do with Me The Author.
Me The Author is not important. We may think we are, but we are not important at all. When a reader reads our words, they should not be thinking of the author. When they put down the book, then perhaps we come to their mind, we hope fondly; yet, even then, we are an amalgam of the words and characters and language and world we created, along with what the reader imagines us to be. We are not who we think we are to the reader, and that can be a beautiful thing to consider, no matter the outcome. We have reached out and touched another living being, even if they skewer us and grill us to a crusted crisp.
My readers can do no wrong.
Readers do not recognize their power—they don’t realize how much we authors really do want to hear from them when they are touched by or enjoy our work. However, if a reader does not like one (or more) of my books, or maybe even hates hates HATES my work, why would I be angry with that reader? They have a right to love or not to love or even to detest my work. They have a right to kiss my book and lovingly set it in a place of honor on their bookshelf, or beside their bed where they can read it again and maybe again. And, yes, they have a right to throw my book across the room and scream that it is the biggest pile of dogshit they’ve ever read in their entire lives and they’ll never pick up another of my books again!
When I write a book, my thoughts are on my reader—will she enjoy it? Will he love my words? Will they be swept away by my characters’ stories? I want to please my reader. I want to make them happy. I want them to love me, because I love them. But I can’t write to please everyone—you do know that is impossible, right? To please everyone? Sure, some books are written that go on to make a gazillion bucks, but go to Amazon and look up a very popular book that’s making millions and there you will find readers who think that book sucks, and sucks so bad that they poured gasoline on it and set it on fire then pee’d on it to stop the flames and then stomped on it with dog-crap covered boots then swept up the nasty pile and buried it fifty feet underground where they never have to be reminded how they’ll never get the time back they wasted on that book!
I will always write with all my heart, everything I have, give readers all I got. I will send out my words and hope for the best. It is my gift to my readers. It is a hope to reach other readers. And no matter how they receive that gift, it is their right to express themselves however they want to without my interference.
It is wrong wrong wrong to make readers feel bad for their opinion.
It is not cool at all to correct them for their “wrongness.” It is uncool to try to sway the reader to change their mind and thus change their review. It super uncool to make them feel guilty enough to take down the review. It is super duper uncool and demeaning to the author profession to tell other readers to go defend that author and their work and make sure to tell that bad reviewer how they mightily suck–ATTACK!—-> (No no no do not do this, Author, please do not).
Our characters and words are no longer all ours once we send them out into the world—they are then everyone else’s. And that means sometimes the characters and words will be cherished and loved, and sometimes they will not and will not so bad that there are scorch marks left on the pages.
Welp, suck it up, Author, or get out of the way.
I get out of the way. I’ve never had readers send me “bad” mail. I’ve never had any reader treat me terribly. I’ve never been attacked by readers. I’ve had very positive experiences. Perhaps there are some reviews on my books that spit in my eye, but why would I care to know about it? That reader will likely not read me again and will find someone else who more fits them. I cannot capture everyone in my literary net and force them or guilt them into loving me. And I should not morph myself into some kind of Every Reader Pleaser.
So you readers out there—I adore you. No matter what. You can do no wrong. Even if you throw my book out the window and vow never to read my words again, you are still required–you are needed–you are wanted. And for those of you who have loved and then hated and then loved me again—thanks for sticking around! For those of you, dear readers, who love all of my work: Why, thank you! I love you, too, and I’m sure I’ll disappoint you at some point—ha! But it won’t be because I give up–I promise to do my very very honest honorable hard-working sincerest best, and that’s all I can do.
So, readers—go on out there and write your reviews! Write your best; write your worst! Just keep reading us. Just keep trying us out. Just keep us alive with your attention. Without you, readers, we are Nothing. N-o-t-h-i-n-g. That’s the truth. You will never do any wrong. The power is in your hands. I hope you will use it wisely and well. Meanwhile, I’ll get back to work and stay out of your way.
In my Monday Classroom Series, I rarely explain “grammar stuff” by explaining it too technically—you know why? Because I cannot be too technical since for me it’s mostly become the instinctual. Oh, I had horrid grammar for many years, and the comma drove me to distraction. But when I became an editor for Rose & Thorn years ago, I learned on the job what it meant to be a better editor. I not only noticed things in the structure and tone and cadence of the story, but also by how grammar was used as a tool either to ignore the rule or to enhance by breaking the rule. In the process, the story shone brighter. It’s all about CONTROL. Know what is right, apply it where necessary, and then break those rules when creativity asks for it: with CONTROL.
Grammar may be one of those things you “get” or one of those things that makes you want to pull out your hair and run screaming into the streets. For me, things began to click when I related them to my writing (or the writer’s story I edited) in a tangible way. What I will try to do here is to explain things in a way with the hope my explanations will make it easier for you to apply the rules, or break them effectively, in your writing, even if you don’t exactly know the whys or deep grammatical explanations.
If you want a more technical explanation, there’s always Grammar Girl
We know what Dangling means; that’s easy. But what in tarnation is a Dangling Participle? A Dangling Participle will have an “ING” word in a phrase that usually precedes a sentence, which modifies the wrong noun/subject.
ING words are sneaky! I often do a “find/search” of my first draft for ING words just to see how I’ve slipped up. First off, many times I find that instead of an ING word, I could/should use ED (or some sister/brother of ED)—go into your manuscript/story and look at some ING words. Now, change ING to ED (and you may or may not need to fiddle-dee-dee with the sentence a bit) and then read it aloud. Huh? Huh? Yeah? See? The more I am instinctually aware, the less I worry I’ll miss something; however, when I do a search, I’m always surprised at what I miss.
Today, let’s look at those ING words as Dangling Participles—dangling ING words in phrases.
Dangling Participles “attach themselves” to the wrong subject, and make the sentence, the scene, sound a bit ridiculous or implausible.
Example:
Drinking her coffee, Mary told John to stop drumming his fingers on the table.
Now, imagine that scene above—don’t just nod your head about it, really picture that scene as if it’s a movie scene or happening right in front of you:
Mary is drinking her coffee, so how can she talk to John with a mouthful of coffee?
Sure, we all know what the sentence means; but if you picture that scene, it does not work. I could explain things in a “Grammarish” kind of way about modifiers and nouns and who or what is carrying out the action and blah blah blah, but if the whys confuse you, I want you to see the results to strengthen your scene and not necessarily the grammar whys.
And in the case of the Dangling Participle, I am not so much worried about you remembering the Term, but instead remembering that ING word there in the beginning phrase that knocks the scene all wonkity. And you can do that by imagining the scene you are writing as if it is happening in front of you or in a movie scene—yeah, I stuck lots-o ING words right there in this paragraph, didn’t I? Ha! But they ain’t a-danglin.
So, in my example: Mary can’t talk and drink her coffee at the same time. Something doesn’t jive here. Let Mary finish her gulp of coffee and then she can tell John to stop his drumming before she goes mad mad MAD with it! (For me, it’s whistling – dang if I don’t hate whistling!)
Running to her car, Debbie revved the motor and raced away.
I’m still imagining Debbie in a full-out run to the car, and then whammalammadingdong I have to adjust my thinking. No, wait! She’s in the car and driving away! This scene is awkward.
Because grammar is so AWESOME in this way, sometimes those ING words can work as beginning phrases.
well, sheee’it
Standing in the doorway, George was knocked to the floor by a large angry ape.
Do you see the difference? George is standing in the doorway when BA-BAM! A big ole ape slams into him. George is the focus here—George standing in the doorway is the focus. The ape comes out of nowhere and knocks George down. I can see the scene even if it could be rewritten to be more efficient.
I’m being simplistic here, and my examples aren’t meant to be perfect. What I want here is for you to picture the scene and in picturing the scene understand the effect on your manuscript/scene.
Typing her examples, Kathryn hoped everyone would understand.
Works for me! Kathryn is typing her examples with the hope that you all will understand. Is the sentence strong and lovely? I dunno. But I can picture the scene just fine. Kathryn typed examples. Kathryn hoped everyone understood. She did and can do both at the same time. Now if Kathryn did this:
Typing her examples, Kathryn ate her scone.
Nope, I’m typing so it would be hard to eat my delicious cranberry orange scone (dang! Wish I had one right now!). Unless I jammed my face on my plate and ate like a dawg—and I probably have done just that, haw!
There are great beautiful perfect grammatical explanations for all this, and any google of “dangling participles” and “participles” will give you clear instruction (like Grammar Girl link above).
Find a way to internalize the explanations so that they become clear to you in a tangible way. If you can relate something to your own experience, it’s easier to understand. If you can imagine your scenes as if watching a movie or as if it is happening right in front of you, then perhaps applying correct grammar, or breaking the rule, will give you much more control. So think about your scenes in another way, and in the process, gain an understanding of sentence structure and how it can make your work weaker or stronger.
Now, go WRITE!
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Touty Plug of the day: I don’t feel like being touty. I will only say that if you want a new book to read, then perhaps consider one of mine. You can pick out all my grammatical mistakes–particularly in the first books–and sneeringly sneerificate at me *laugh!* I have a website kathrynmagendie.com and an Amazon Page and my books are available wherever books are sold–and if they aren’t there, then they can be ordered. As always, your support is needed and appreciated and never forgotten. It’s all for you, this crazy writing life: You–dear Readers.
I’d promised myself this year I would work towards corralling (some of) the chaos in my life. That begins with becoming more organized even—gasp—creating lists, and—bigger gasp—actually looking at those lists instead of forgetting them—and HUGE gasp—actually doing things on the lists and then scratching them off. Yeah. WHUPOW, y’all!
Of course, not having a Strict Theme to my blog is just more of my chaos, right? Maybe. But better to dump it all here than my brain expand and explode, right? RIGHT! WHEE HAW! Or, explode my friends’ and family’s brains with my BOINGITY BOINGITY.
And you are welcomed to the madness, if you so dare to be.
The Milky Way Galaxy. Home. It’s not very big, as galaxies go. Though, progress intrudes as it often does—the Milky Way is moving towards the Andromeda Galaxy at seventy miles per second, and what was One will become a bigger messier Two that becomes a strange unknown One. Much as we humans do—we hurtle towards one another knowing the collision will be beautiful and fiery, and end in our spiritual or romantic or sexual (or all three) deaths. Perhaps before that happens, the sun will have already swollen to a red giant and, well, we won’t survive that either. We have no choice in the matter—death comes, so we must do the living, hurtling towards what we think will make our lives more exciting, bigger, better, sexier. Often, if we are careless, hurtling towards hurt—hurt(ling).
Looking out of the spaceship window, there is a vastness of sky interspersed with Stuff. Though one would think traveling into space would be a silent and black existence, it is not. It only seems that way for the Lonely Woman when eyes turn too far inward; but yet, even then, the brain is as the galaxy is—full of gas, dust, black hole, planets, moons, and stars, never still, ever-changing. In the midst of it all, one cannot see to think clearly with the dust and gas so thick, yet there are wonders there, beauties, discoveries. There is also the Hidden inside the black hole that one does not want to be too close to. Why, you may ask?
Turning from the window, thoughts turn to the basics: how to navigate a busy galaxy when it is but you at the helm of your spaceship? And that is what this journey will be. Effectively, or sometimes ineffectively, navigating the galaxy as One, which includes that of Home Earth. What will you eat for One? How will you repair the spaceship as One? Where are safe places to go, as One? What to do when no one has your back but you? What if you are sick? What if . . . what if . . . what if? How to . . . how to . . . how to? Why, how, when, where? Thus, yes, the name: The Lonely Woman’s Guide to the Galaxy.
Kathryn Magendie 