Tag Archives: re-writing

Good Thing Summer Days Last Longer!

Happy Saturday, gang!

Peitor has familial obligations in – yes!! – Iowa this weekend. So we are not working on any scripts this morning.  (It seems weird, doesn’t it – that he spent his childhood in both Florence, Italy and Iowa??!!) (It’s because both of his parents were tenured University Professors. In Literature. Both of them. Talk about intense. Both of his parents were always extremely friendly and all. But they’re both ridiculously intelligent. You always wanted to be wearing your best vocabulary whenever they came to visit in NYC.)

Anyway. So I have a little bit of a reprieve from “projects” today, which is good because now I have way too many that I’m trying to focus on every day. I know it’s because I started that memoir website thing from out of nowhere, and then setting up the page became stupidly time-consuming. I wasn’t expecting that.

But Sandra is in fact flying in here in a couple weeks to begin the initial rehearsals of the play (staying with the director because she’s allergic to cats!!), so I have to redirect my focus away from In the Shadow of Narcissa for a moment and get back to Tell My Bones.

I’m in a good place about that, though. And I’ve been kind of waiting for that feeling: that the play was getting queued up inside me.

If I’m not feeling aligned energetically with a project, it’s useless to kill time sitting and waiting on it. I go in the emotional direction of whatever calls me on any given day. It works out better for me that way. But sometimes, deadlines sort of force you to focus on something, regardless. So I’m gad that I can feel the play bubbling up inside me again because that’s what needs my attention most right now.

Plus, the Internet has been super wonky around here the past few days.  It will suddenly go out, for hours, in the whole area. It’s frustrating but it is also a forced “vacation.” I can’t do anything online. I can’t work on the new memoir. I can’t stream any new music. I can’t watch anything on Youtube or Amazon Prime. I can’t work on my Italian lessons, either. Or even tune my guitar!

So I’ve been using it as a signal to just STOP, you know? Because I never just stop until it’s time to collapse in bed at night. And even then, I usually spend an hour or two doing other weird stuff that I won’t go into right now.

Anyway. It does feel good to sort of just stop.  To be peaceful. To just listen to the earth. To take in, sort of from a distance, all the things that are going on right now.

Okay. This will be brief because the Internet has gone in & out about 5 times since I started writing this!! Hopefully, Spectrum will have it all figured out by tomorrow.

Have a wonderful Saturday, gang, wherever you are in the world!! Thanks for visiting! I love you guys. See ya!

The internet NEVER used to go out on my typewriter!!

Best Morning Ever!

And by that of course I mean that the raccoons have returned to my maple tree! A mom and 2 cubs. They’re chattering away as I type.  (If you scroll down to my Instagram feed, you can see a photo of them. Click on it and it gets larger but it takes you to my Instagram page. For some reason, the photo has disappeared from my phone.)

Anyway. I love them. The hole in the center of the tree is parallel to the window I can see out of from my bed. I don’t even have to lift my wee bonny head from my pillow to see them. I can just lie there and watch them and they are so cute.

Okay. Well! Thank you to all of you who are visiting my “In the Shadow of Narcissa” site even though I already told you there is nothing there yet but a photo!! You are making me feel guilty!

ME (stumbling upon my stats page this morning because I still can’t figure my way around the back end of that new site): “Oh my goodness! Visitors! And I have nothing to give them!”

It’s sort of like having house guests and no food in the house…

I am going to try, once again, to work on that today and post something there. Although I wasn’t expecting it to take this long and need to focus more on the play. But we’ll see how it goes.

My solution to the problem of not being able to get the new site to do what I want it to do, is that I’ve made it just one single page. That’s it. You can follow it. You can contact me. But that is the only bell and the only whistle.  I am just going to post there on that one single page and that’s it.

So frustrating! (grumble grumble) And I’ve been building web sites since 1997, when you basically had to build the whole darn thing from HTML.

Why do they have to “make things better” only to then make them impossible to figure out?

A dear friend of mine, who is almost 80, asked me to look at her brand new dishwasher for her on Monday because it wasn’t washing the dishes. She would load up the soap, press “start,” but the soap would never be used, just be spilled all over, dry,  when she opened it, hours later. And her husband, who has dementia, kept putting dirty dishes away in the cupboards. She was going nuts.

HER (heavy sigh): “I should have gotten another Kitchenaide instead of this one.”

ME: “No, this is an LG. It’s much better than a Kitchenaide. Something’s just weird here. Let me look at it.”

And it turned out that the dishwasher had a “Delay” button connected to wi-fi, which had somehow been turned  to “on”, so that you can start your dishwasher later on, from your cell phone! She had no clue!  It was perpetually set to “delay.”

For Christ’s sake. Who fucking really needs that?! I can understand wanting your home security system connected to your cell phone. I can almost even understand wanting your thermostat connected to your cell phone. But your dishwasher?

My poor friend was going insane because her brand new, really expensive dishwasher wasn’t doing a darn thing and she was ready to have them come take the really nice brand new dishwasher away. (And she has her hands full enough, trying to look after a husband who has dementia.)

So. Anyway. My solution to my growing annoyance over the back end of the new web site was to simply make it one page. That’s all I really need anyway.  And, hopefully, on we go.

Nick Cave‘s Red Hand Files newsletter came out again this morning. I already read it, sort of by accident. I usually read it after I “get everything done.” It came earlier than it usually arrives, though, and I was just rapidly scrolling through my inbox on my phone, cleaning everything out of there (meaning “delete, delete, delete”) and then suddenly there it was, right in front of me, so I read it.

It seemed sort of sad to me. Of course, I always read everything from my own perspective, so I could be wildly wrong about that.  I will have to read it again, but it sort of seemed sad. God knows, I now have something else to ponder. And no answers will ever be forthcoming, so it will likely be one of those things I ponder until the cows come home.

Although, that said – around these parts, the cows actually do come home…

And raccoons, too! I’m thinking that the mommy racoon is probably one of the cubs that was born in the tree last spring. I have missed them so much!

Which in a roundabout and very convoluted way, brings me back to my thoughts about my niece (see yesterday’s post). And I feel like I can’t figure out what I should really do there.

My one sister and I are very close. She raised 2 girls, and she did an incredible job at it. (When she and her partner got together a million years ago, her partner had 2 very young daughters from a previous marriage and my sister helped raise them until they went off to college.)

And she loved those girls, and did everything she was supposed to do and all that. But they did make her crazy because they did stuff that all young people do. And I recall one time, a guy my sister knew was really, really wanting to have kids but his wife didn’t want them.  And my sister took the guy out to her truck, opened the side door and told him, “Here, dude. Slam your dick in this door a few times until the feeling goes away.”

She’s not a real fan of raising children anymore.

And she definitely has a really low tolerance for bullshit from young people now. And her opinion yesterday re: my concerns over my niece was drastically different from mine. And I know she knows what she’s talking about and so I think, what do I do here? Just let everyone live their own lives and look the other way?

Well, yes, let everyone live their own lives. But the other part – not even trying? Just walk away? Mind my own business?

It’s mostly my niece’s dad that I want to talk to my niece about. My brother. Because I saw and I knew a side of my brother that nobody else ever saw. Ever. I was really close to my younger brother for a long time, until he pushed me too far, too, and I finally had to walk away.  Like everybody else had.

But I know there was another path he had tried to go down; there was another kind of man he had tried to be. I remember that man he was so well, and I’m certain my niece has no clue that man ever existed. She just sees the man as he is now (indescribable alcoholic). I hate to think that’s all she’s destined to see.

My younger brother is on the left; my second husband is on the right. In Jackson, Ohio, Spring 1993.

Well, okay. Let me get going here. Spend some time on the other site and hopefully get something underway there, finally.  And spend a million hours pondering the Nick Cave thing. God knows, I can’t have a fulfilling life without stuffing my head full with a bunch of questions that have no answers whatsoever!

Have a great Thursday, wherever you are in the world! I leave you with this today. A song my brother and I used to play the fuck out of the summer after the album Centerfield by John Fogerty came out (1986). PLEASE please please play this one really loud, okay? In honor of the guy my brother used to be, such a long wonderful time ago. A summer I will never forget.

Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“Rock And Roll Girls”

Sometimes I think life is just a rodeo
The trick is to ride and make it to the bell
But there is a place, sweet as you will ever know
In music and love and things you never tell
You see it in their face, secrets on the telephone
A time out of time, for you and no one else

Hey, let’s go all over the world
Rock and roll girls, rock and roll girls

Yeah, yeah, yeah

If I had my way, I’d shuffle off to Buffalo
Sit by the lake and watch the world go by
Ladies in the sun, listenin’ to the radio
Like flowers on the sand, the rainbow in my mind

Hey, let’s go all over the world
Rock and roll girls, rock and roll girls

Hey, let’s go all over the world
Rock and roll girls, rock and roll girls

Hey, let’s go all over the world
Rock and roll girls, rock and roll girls, yeah, yeah, yeah

c – 1985 John Fogerty

Sei così vanitosa ragazza carina!

Yes, indeedy! You are very vain, pretty girl!!

And, NO, they have not yet actually taught me how to say the above in Italian. I looked it up on google translator.

I thought my unending vanity sounded better in Italian.

(I considered quoting from Ecclesiastes, because it has much to say about vanity, but it wasn’t catching the overall verve I was going for.)

Anyway. Yes, I’m vain. And I might have to actually confess here that I am a “skin products” fanatic.  And I only buy my (indescribably huge amounts of) skin products from one specific company in France. They’ve been shipping them to me for 20 years now because they are the best products I have ever used, and I have used everything.

And I’m talking everything, because I’ve been a skin products fanatic since I was 13 years old. I used to have this metal lock box that I kept all my skin products in. I didn’t ever lock it, it was just the only thing I could find in the house that was big enough to hold all my many skincare products.

I have no clue why I’ve always been obsessed with skin care products, and the worst part is that, even at age 13, I was obsessed with high end skincare products. And I was not rich or anything like that. I had to do a lot of babysitting to afford all that stuff. And babysitting used to pay 50 cents an hour, so that was a lot of babysitting.

(Apparently, I had not yet realized that writing porn might pay better.)

(And NO, I don’t really think I write porn. It is everyone else in the world who thinks that.)

Anyway. I have always been completely okay with my unending need for skincare products. Because, even back then, I really believed that, when I got old, I wouldn’t look old if I was vigilant about using skincare products.

I didn’t realize that everybody else wasn’t like this until one day, when I was 14, a girlfriend was in the bathroom with me when I took out my metal lock box and she saw everything that was in it and could not get over it. And she was sort of horrified that even my elbows were smooth. And I was sort of horrified that she was horrified. Who wouldn’t want their elbows to be smooth at age 14??!!

She was one of those girls who had all sorts of other things to do with her life, even way back then. (And I recoil to think, if she’s even still alive, what her elbows might look like today!)

We did not stay friends, of course, because it’s hard for me to stay friends with girls who have non-smooth elbows. And she was unable to stay friends with me because I made out with her boyfriend behind her back. (See? She clearly had some weird sort of value system she was operating under in all areas of her life.)

But in my defense, the boy liked hanging out with me. And he gave me, literally gave me, a pristine, original copy of The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, complete with its original photos & cutout things inside the album sleeve. He simply gave it to me because he didn’t want it.  And the only thing I had more of than skincare products were record albums. So how could I not make out with him?

Anyway. I’m bringing all this up because, no, I’m not really that vain.  I do still use a ton of skin products, but I also have wrinkles and stuff. I don’t actually mind having them.  However, most people who meet me for the first time think I’m about 10 years younger than I actually am… which then gives me about 10 seconds to feign modest humility when they learn that I’m actually way more incredibly-older than my decades-long-moisturized face leads you to assume.

I also have a ton of cellulite on my thighs – that I have always had. I’m not sure why. My legs are strong & stretchy & flexible! Because I have been working out steadily & continuously since I was — yes!! — 13 years old. Cellulite has never bothered me.  It’s just not on my radar of things I worry about. However, the company in France that I am addicted to, had this 2 for 1 sale on this new (ridiculously expensive) Mangosteen extract cellulite reducing cream.  And I mean it is stupidly expensive.

I have never really believed that cellulite reducing products could actually work, but since I never cared one way or the other about cellulite, I never tried any of them. But I have noticed that whenever this company comes out with a new product that I don’t think I could possibly need, I buy it, and try it, and the results blow my mind.

(They recently were giving away tubes of another new product they have – a detoxing flash mask. I accepted it graciously because it was free, and it normally costs something like $64.  But what the fuck is a detoxing flash mask for, exactly? Who knows? But I tried it anyway. I followed the directions. Put it on my face for 5 minutes.  Tissued it off. Went about my glorious day. And the next morning — holy shit.  My skin looked incredible. And I don’t wear makeup, gang. So I have to get an incredible amount of dazzling mileage out of just my skin. So now, I always have an expensive tube of imported-from-France detoxing flash mask in the medicine cabinet in each bathroom. Because now I never know when I’ll need to detox my face in a flash and won’t even have enough time to get to the medicine cabinet in the upstairs bathroom! And I still don’t know what the fuck a detoxing flash mask is, I only know that it works!)

So I went for the 2 for 1 deal on the new cellulite cream and it arrived yesterday and now I’m very curious to see what the results of stupidly expensive Mangosteen extract cellulite reducing cream (that you must use twice a day in order for it to work) will be.

I’m hoping the results will be negligible because I really don’t need to get addicted to something else that’s really expensive.  In addition to the detoxing flash mask, I have other masks I’m addicted to; one that is used 3 times a week, one only once a week; one just at night, a couple only in the daytime. I have morning face creams, night time face creams, nightly foot creams, even, and daily intensive hand creams, twice-a-day eye creams, and then other intensive creams that keep all those other parts of my really old body looking a little less than “really old.”

So I’m really kinda hoping that stupidly expensive Mangosteen extract cellulite reducing cream does nothing for me.  But I will keep you posted!!

Meanwhile!!

I have a ton of writing to do here today. I am so excited about the stuff with Sandra that I can’t blog about yet. But in order to manage all of this, I really have to focus, gang. Plus I’m thinking of adding a twice-a-week memoir-type, nonfiction column to a blog that is not this one.  So, um. Yes. I gotta get going!

I hope you have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. Don’t worry if your elbows are rough, I still love you!! And I won’t make-out with your boyfriend behind your back ( or your wife, even) as long as s/he refrains from giving me vintage and quite valuable old Beatles’ record albums 100% for free! Thanks for visiting!! I love you guys! See ya!

Related image

 

The Joy of Boys!!

I saw the coolest guy today.

First, let me say that Ohio is one of those States where helmets are optional on motorcycles. If you want to take your fate into your own hands, and go helmet-less when you ride your motorcycle, you may.

And if you don’t want to ride with your girlfriend seated behind you, you can have your best friend — yes, your dog — strapped in behind you, instead.

No lie.

You’d think that Ohio had been one of the Rebel States, but in fact, it was not. It was so deeply entrenched on the Union side, that a  few famous Civil War Union Generals came from Ohio, including William Tecumseh Sherman and Ulysses S. Grant.

Actually, it isn’t until you start getting deeper in the Hinterlands that you truly encounter this rebel attitude. And by rebel, I’m not talking about KKK-type, Confederate flag-type stuff; just the general attitude of “you can’t tell me what to do.” Whereas,  if you go deeper into the cities, you find that mentality where everyone basically tows the line and deeply wishes you to do the same thing and will look disapprovingly at you the minute that you don’t.

However. Out here, as I said, I saw the coolest guy!

He was riding his motorcycle, no helmet.  He had long, straight brown hair that wasn’t pulled back at all. No jacket, just a tee shirt. A pair of shades.  He did not look older than 30.

He was coming from the other side of Wakatamika Creek, out where Black Run Road is.

At first, I just thought he was cute. I was turning onto the highway, as he was going past me in the other direction. But then suddenly, he appeared on the Old Highway 16, which is a twisty-turny, winding and beautiful 2-lane highway and sometimes runs parallel to the new  highway, and man, was he going fast. I was already going 85 mph and he was easily a little ahead of me.

His hair was blowing back in the wind. His tee shirt was even blowing halfway up his back. He was very clearly looking around for the Highway Patrol, but you could just see that he was the freest human being on the entire planet. It was breathtaking to watch him. But then the Old Highway veered up into the hills and he disappeared.

Of course, I’m very maternal, and right away, I was hoping that his mom had no clue what he was out there doing — going at that speed on that winding road with no helmet on, because even without having any clue who she is, I know her heart would have dropped down to her feet to see him like that. But at the same time, maternal instincts aside, it was just incredible to watch him in all his fearless glory. It really was. He was just beautiful.

I hope he stays young (at heart) and fearless forever. Whoever he was.

Okay, gang! Good news arrived from Sandra today re: our other theater project that’s going on in Toronto, Canada. I cannot blog about it yet, but it is sufficient to say that if I thought I had a tad too much on my plate before I got out of bed this morning, I now have great big heaping piles of incredible awesomeness. And I have to somehow tackle it.

I know I will.  I just have to stay focused. But it seemed like I was getting to a place where I was going to have some breathing room, but such is not the case.

But, still, I couldn’t be happier, gang, even though now I am just stupidly busy.

Well, okay. I don’t usually post songs from Mojo, however, it is probably the best Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers album, ever. It was their 2nd to last record before he died, although the final album he did was a Mudcrutch album that had a few of the Heartbreakers on it, as well.

In terms of their musical prowess, their maturity, the songs on Mojo are really just off the charts good.  It is decidedly the “older/calmer” Tom Petty ( he was 60 years old when it came out). Not the scrappy, angry, skinny, attitude-filled and much younger Tom Petty that I usually listen to. This is the much more laid back one, but the album is just killer. If you like more blues-based rock & roll, that is.

I played this song about a zillion times this morning. “Running Man’s Bible.”  I get the feeling that he wrote it sort of as a tribute to himself and the Heartbreakers and their 40 years of being on the road together.  Of course, I could be wrong because I was never very good at guessing what Tom Petty was ever really writing about.

But, anyway, it’s a great song and it was great music to listen to while that cool motorcycle guy went flying past, in all his youth with all his fearlessness and all those unanswered questions still way out ahead of him on that highway somewhere. Okay! Have a great evening, gang. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys! See ya!

“Running Man’s Bible”

You’re with me tonight on this dark highway
We’ve run it together
So many times
We’ve run it for money
We’ve run it for music
We’ve run it to pay for our innocent crimes

I took on my father and I’m still walkin’
Took on all comers in some shape or form
And I see with the eyes of somethin’ wounded
Somethin’ still standing after the storm

Here’s one to glory and survival
And stayin’ alive
It’s the running man’s bible
I been next in line

I been next to nothin’
Been next to bystanders
Who shoulda said somethin’
It was not in my vision
It was not in my mind
To return from a mission
A man left behind

Here’s one to glory
And survival
And stayin’ alive
It’s the runnin’ man’s bible
I don’t speak of the times I’ve nearly died

I don’t speak of out lastin’ those who are gone
Or the things I’ve done
I care not to remember
Or the desperate measures
That might have been wrong

Honey here’s one to glory
Here’s to bad weather
And all the hard things
We’ve been through together

Here’s to the golden rule and survival
And to stayin’ alive
It’s the runnin’ man’s bible
Here’s one to glory and survival
And stayin’ alive
It’s the runnin’ man’s bible

c- 2010 Tom Petty

All In A Day’s Work, Gang!

Wow, what a great day, gang!

Yesterday was so cool. Specifically, I am referring to my weekly Saturday morning phone conference with Peitor, re: Abstract Absurdity Productions.

We’re still working on one specific script. Shot by shot and moment by moment, even though (and especially because) it is only an 8 minute film.  Everything has to be so tight.

First off, Peitor weirdly overslept a huge amount and so we didn’t actually get started until after 12 noon, my time. I think that on some sort of subliminal level, those earthquakes they’re having out there in Los Angeles wore him out.

But eventually, we did indeed get started and it yielded another incredible session.

I know I bandy those words about: incredible, amazing, astounding, and the ever popular “so cool!”. But, I really, really mean it, gang! The psychological level we got to yesterday for the 3rd segment of the film really just astounded both of us.

(If you’re new to the blog — the plot premise of every film we’re developing is absolutely, completely, 100% absurd, otherwise we aren’t interested in making it. But from that starting point, we then want to make it a really watchable, engaging film/video experience that lasts 10 mins or less. )

When you’re scrutinizing something shot by shot, you readily find the holes in the script and while we’re brainstorming on how to fix a hole, that’s when the psychological level of the whole plot just goes off the charts for us. It’s so funny. Because the bottom line is that the entire premise is absolutely ridiculous.  Yet it is layered now with all this emotional/psychological stuff.

The creative process is so beautiful. How something evolves and really just takes on a tangible life, you know? Yesterday, Peitor was comparing the notes/script we now have against our original 3 lines of notes we made on this specific idea. Just the simple premise we had come up with originally that had made us laugh really hard.

We were sitting on stools at the counter in the French Market in Los Angeles, eating quiche and looking at  row upon row of intricately decorated chocolate and caramel pastries.  It was a sunny Friday in December; we were just hanging out, nothing to do. For a change, I wasn’t trying to dash off to too many meetings at once.  And suddenly we came up with this small, absurd idea and we were laughing so hard, we were nearly falling off the stools.  (And me being a genteel woman of a certain age – I totally pissed myself.)

However. That said.

If you’re a creative type, then you know how that small germ of an idea can really, really excite you. And yet once you start really developing it – whatever “it” is – and really opening to the creative life of it, it truly is astounding where it will take you and what actually – ultimately – gets created.

It is such a beautiful feeling, regardless of what it is you’re bringing to life.

And it’s so wonderful for me, personally, to be going through this process with someone I’ve known so well for so long. I’m an intense person and not everyone can work that well with me. I try not to be overwhelming or anything, but I also still cannot help being myself.  I’m driven by visions. And eventually my visions achieve a flow, you know? And if you’re clogging up the flow, well, “consternation” is a good word to describe my overall everything at that point. So trying to work with me is often not as easy as just being my friend.

And even just being friends with anybody, whether or not I’m involved, can get stressful, right?

Of course, years of experience of being someone’s friend (Peitor and I have been friends now for 35 years), teaches you how best to keep the flow open and to allow the other to just be who they are, because even while Peitor and I are very similar in so many ways, we are definitely not twins, or anything. Our minds work in very, very different ways.

And to be honest, at my age (I’ll be 59 in 17 days!!), I have already started to see so many people just drift off. To ill-health, to boredom – they’re not really interested in moving forward in any way; or their minds stay in some wonderful place in the past that they liked better. And of course, a number of my colleagues have died already.

I love younger  people, I really do. I love the energy and the thoughts and the approach to life that they bring to a conversation. To the planet. But it just feels so wonderful to be so creative with someone I’ve known so well for such a long time and to have it be a really positive (non-argumentative) experience.

And speaking of my birthday!!

And speaking of unending relationships, perhaps even of relationships that have come back from the dead!!

I have to scoot here because my first husband is calling me here momentarily. It is one of our annual phone chats. He likes to call me around my birthday.  And he has to be discreet – calling very early in the morning, his time zone. Because his life is on a whole different  path, in a whole different world; a whole different life! Which is a way of saying that he is not only in a relationship with someone who does not know that I exist, but it is a relationship that does not seem to even know that he was ever married. Ever. At all. Regardless of to whom ( for 9 years). And apparently he intends to keep it that way.

Okay-dokey! I sure don’t mind.  I love chatting with him. He always makes me laugh. And he cares about me and he knows me really well. I live in a world now where nobody knows me at all, so to be known is a beautiful feeling.  (Plus, you know how it is when you aren’t married to a person: what they do or don’t do is none of your business anymore at all.)

Have a super Sunday, wherever you are in the world, gang! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys! See ya!

 

Absolutely 100% For Real, Done!

I finally finished the final edit, final re-write, final everything on Blessed By Light and it is done, gang.

I am just so pleased with it. I have the best Muse ever, and I just feel so blessed. What a strange little book it is but I really, really love it.

And continued thanks to all of you who keep downloading the eBooks at Smashwords. At this point, I know it’s people who probably aren’t even coming to this blog, unless of course, you all like to download the exact same books over & over & over.

But, still, thanks.

In fact, I remember the long ago days when each of those stories in those erotic “Muse” collections was brand new, and I would finish  writing one of them — it was always a great feeling. And a really great feeling when the story got sold.

The thrill of getting that letter from a publisher that said, “We are happy to inform you…” (Back then it was actual letters, not emails.)

In fact, I only wrote one short story – a really early one – that didn’t eventually get sold, gang. So if you are still new to your own writing career, just hang in there and keep believing in yourself. It all eventually comes to pass.

(And eventually the letters became, “Dear Ms. Lewis, We know how busy you are, but we are writing to ask you if you’d be willing to contribute” etc., etc.)

So, yeah, it’s a beautiful world!!

Okay, I’m gonna go collapse for a few minutes! Thanks for visiting!!

I leave you with my current favorite song for my Muse! (Honestly, I can’t stop playing this song, gang. I think this is gonna go down as the best year in my life.)

Yes! Onward!

Gang, I hope you had a happy 4th (if you live State-side, that is)!

As I posted yesterday, around these parts – Crazeysburg, specifically – we’re having our 4th on the 5th. Which, of course, irritates me because I’m long past the holiday mood and am headlong into a regular day here.

However, I only live one block from where all the merriment will ensue soon, so I’m guessing I will be forced to at least spiritually participate, since all my windows are open.

Anyway. As grumbley as I am about it not happening on the actual 4th, I know I will enjoy the fireworks tonight because I have that clear view of them from my kitchen porch.

Speaking of the kitchen porch, and thus speaking indirectly of the spider who lives out there and builds those extensive webs (see some other post from the other day, only God knows which one). Last evening, I went out to the porch to water the flowers and I saw a little beetle stuck in one of the webs.  He was perfectly alive and the spider hadn’t done anything about it.

This happens from time to time, and when it does, I carefully remove the insect from the web and set it free.  I did this to the beetle and his little legs grabbed onto my finger and he did not want to let go.

I tried to set him down in the grass and send him on his merry beetle way, because I am a gal who has things to do & people to see! But he just wanted to stay put on my hand and not go anywhere. I even tried scooting him on to a blade of grass, to use it as a transport to the actual lawn, but he would have none of it. He kept avoiding the blade of grass and staying put on my hand. And the bottoms of his feet were kind of sticky or something like that. I mean, I could feel that he had a real hold on me and wasn’t going to budge.

It was actually quite endearing. But I really did have to go back inside and, yes, go sit back down at my desk, so I finally was able to move him down onto the grass. And for several minutes afterward, I could still feel the pressure of his little feet on my hand.

It was so cool. But then I wiped down all the old webs to try to keep that from happening again. If the spider is still around, I know he had new ones back in place by sundown. I haven’t actually checked yet.

But, speaking of my desk…

So, yes, as I posted yesterday, during the night on Wednesday, all the final edits for Blessed By Light finally arrived and I was prepared for yesterday to just be a final read-through of the novel so that I could sign off on it in my head and focus on the play.

I had a brief email exchange yesterday morning regarding my revisions for Chapters 1 & 2, and while the editor felt they were working just fine, I in fact did more revisions to those chapters yesterday, along with minor revisions on chapters 3, 4, 5 & 6! And I know I am going to do some tweaking to Chapters 7 & 8 today.

But that really is going to be it. From Chapter 9 onward, the novel moves into a different tone, because the 2 main characters are more securely into their relationship, so the tone changes.   But I just wanted elements of that tone to be in there from the beginning of Chapter 1, so that’s what I worked on all day yesterday. For about 10 hours.

I knew there weren’t going to be any fireworks yesterday, or anything, so it didn’t really feel like a holiday to me anyway.

Still, I did acutely notice that my life is so different nowadays from what it was in NYC. It didn’t matter which holiday it was back then, Wayne & I always cooked and baked and bought a ton of booze and fine wine and had an apartment full of noisy, happy people. Always. That’s just how we were.

And I still have all the stuff that goes along with cooking and baking for tons of people – I have a really good-sized kitchen here in the depths of Crazeysburg. I have lots of cupboards, tons of storage.  And every single nook & cranny is full of things made for cooking and baking and God knows I have a ton of dishes, too.

So, I couldn’t help but be reminded of all that, as I went down to the kitchen for my 4th of July dinner last night, and it was an orange, 3 pieces of broccoli,  and one of those “green” smoothies that’s full of all sorts of things you don’t want.

But I’m actually okay with it. Things change. I am definitely someone who needs change.  When I left NYC, aside from an impending divorce, I was ready to leave. NYC was morphing into something I didn’t really enjoy anymore.

I was on the phone with my Uncle yesterday and he kept laughing about it, you know: “What is going on with you? Why are you living there? Why are you staying there? It makes no sense! Did they take your passport? Are you unable to get out?”

But I’m really, really happy here, for the first time ever in my life. I cannot explain it. And loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that I had to beg the realtor to show me this house. I had to beg two realtors, in fact. I brought it up 5 times.

ME: “I want to go out to Muskingum County and at least look at that house.”

THEM: “No you don’t.”

ME: “Why??!! It sounds perfect for me!”

THEM: “It’s not. It’s a mess of a house. Been on the market almost 2 years.”

But when I finally persuaded a realtor to take me through it, she couldn’t believe how much work had been done to the inside of the house in the 2 years it had been languishing on the market.

Anyway. It was the perfect house for me. And I bought it. And I’m ridiculously happy here, even though everyone who knows me – from my wee bonny girlhood days in Cleveland, onward – equates me with an intensely urban environment.

But it is a great house for writing in. It’s so incredibly quiet here.

Okay, well! I see there is a new Red Hand Files newsletter from Nick Cave in my inbox, gang! So I think I will close this and read that and then get back to work around here!!

Oh, one other thing that happened yesterday – how easy Amazon makes my world!

I was typing away, and a little thing popped up in the bottom corner of my laptop screen. It was Amazon, alerting me that I might want to buy White Lunar right away, because it was on sale! (White Lunar is a soundtrack collection by Nick Cave & Warren Ellis from a number of years ago.)

Amazon usually tells me to buy things I already own, but I don’t actually own this CD collection yet. Truthfully, I don’t know that I was actually planning to own it, although I do own another one of their soundtrack CDs that I really love.  I can’t remember now which one it is, but it’s that Depression-era country sounding type thing. I really love it.

So I just clicked a little button and the entire purchase was completely done and I just went right on typing revisions of the novel.

And that is one reason why I have so much fucking music in this house! It’s so darn easy!

Okay, gang. I leave you with this version of Lou Reed’s Walk on the Wild Side as performed  by a now-defunct Australian band, Yves Klein Blue.

I was turned onto this cover of the song yesterday morning, on the a1000mistakes blog site out of Australia, and I just love it!! Enjoy your Friday wherever you are in the world! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!