Friday, May 31, 2013

100-Word Memoir: ABC


When Mary was two and I was four, I taught her the alphabet. Mom set up a chalkboard in the kitchen, and I wrote the letters with soft yellow chalk, using the skills I had learned from watching Sesame Street and eavesdropping on my brothers’ homeschool lessons.

The only letters that gave me trouble were the lowercase “m” and “n.” I couldn’t remember how many bumps followed the short vertical line. Mom drew those for me. 

I couldn’t actually read at that point, but I knew the alphabet was the first step— and I wasn’t going to leave Mary behind.

~~~

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Seven Things I've Come to Like in the Past Year


1. Brown mustard. Thank you, Bavaria.

2. Healthy cooking. I’m actually learning how to make healthy stuff taste good! (For instance, this kale salad recipe.)

3. Writing nonfiction articles. Before this year, I found them to be a slog. Narratives (fiction or nonfiction) are still my favorite, but I’ve learned that nonfiction articles are pretty fun, too.

4. Reading Revelation, Genesis, and the laws of the Pentateuch. My ESV commentary Bible is the main reason for this— the commentary has helped me understand the Bible in a deeper way over the past year.

5. Spicy food. I put tabasco in recipes and shake crushed red pepper on everything. This is entirely Zachary’s doing.

6. Anime. Well, okay, this is only half-true. But Mushi-shi and Trigun have certainly expanded my animation horizons!

7. Belonging to someone. Although I’ve been quite the independent lady for the past few years, knowing that I belong to Zachary is one of my favorite parts of being a wife.

What’s new with you?


~~~

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

A Conspiracy of the Weather and Food Gods


This past Monday, I awoke with a clear purpose in mind: make the food I had promised to bring to the Memorial Day potluck (fruit salad, lettuce salad, and brownies). The only one that required any actual cooking were the brownies, but I still hadn’t bought the ingredients for the salads. No matter. Even though Zach was at work (and therefore had the car), it’s only a five-block trek to Aldi: down the steep hill, through a strip of woods, around the edge of the park by the cemetery, and up another hill to the store. Easy peasy.

After finishing up some other projects, I glanced out the window. The sky looked heavy and gray, but it hadn’t rained yet, so I figured I’d just zip over to the store and back on my bike. I hauled Shep (good name for a bike, yes?) out of the laundry room, hopped on, and zoomed down the hill (incidentally, I’m not in good enough shape to pedal my way back to the top of that hill— I have to walk my bike). Just as I reached the bottom, I felt a couple sharp drops of rain slap against my arms. Not feeling in the mood to turn back now, I pedaled faster. Within 30 seconds, the raindrops escalated into a monsoon, driving cold globs of water into my skin and eyes until it blinded and choked me. 

I skidded to a stop under a tree and caught my breath, yelling, “Well okay then! I won’t go to the store!” The rain immediately subsided. But then I broke my promise to the weather, and that’s when my karma started going all wrong.

Soaked completely through, I biked the remaining distance to the store, spraying up muddy water with each stroke of my pedal. At last I staggered up to the Aldi, shoved a quarter into the slot to release a cart, pulled out the cart, and rammed it toward the door. It wasn’t until then that I noticed the store was dark.

They were closed for Memorial Day.

At that point, I exclaimed, “Duuuuuuh!”, which drew some weird looks from the passersby. Reclaiming my dignity, I returned the cart and sauntered back to my bike, pretending that I was just out for a stroll.

Back at home, I changed out of my sopping clothes and wrote my dear husband a distressed note begging him to pick up some lettuce, strawberries, blueberries, and bananas before he left Walmart for the day. Then, shaking my head, I clomped downstairs to make the brownies. I hummed as I whipped up the batter.

When I opened the preheated oven, a wave of cold air greeted me. The oven was broken. 

Yeah, the food gods had it out for me that day. 

Fortunately, the story has a happy ending: Zach came to my rescue with a bag of produce, and I was able to bake the brownies at the potluck instead of at my house. Still, I guess I learned my lesson about making promises to the weather.

~~~

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Travel Tip Tuesdays: Making the Most of a Short Trip


How do you make the most of short trips? A lot of my friends say they only have a few vacation days a year.

I’ll be honest. This blog ventures into territory that I’m not entirely familiar with: planning a short trip. Most of my trips through the years have been eight or nine days minimum, but that’s the perk of having an online job. Lately, however, with Zach working a full-time job with no consistent days off, I’m learning the importance of short trips. They are brief, but they can be just as meaningful as a longer journey.

After giving it some serious thought and drawing from my limited experience, here is my best tip for short trips: prioritize. Most of what I have to say boils down to that simple word.

My three-day trip along the Katy trail
 in summer of 2011 was a lot of fun.
Prioritize your ideas. Everyone has a dream destination or idea of what to do, so focus on whittling them down to something manageable for the occasion. If you only have a couple days off, I’d highly suggest finding a destination close to home. For instance, Zach has a rare two consecutive days off next week, so we’re planning a mini-backpacking trip along the Katy Trail, which runs right by our house. 

Prioritize your activities. Some people want to spend their two days in Orlando by attending all four Disney World parks. This is a very bad idea. Not only will you not be able to appreciate the whirlwind, but you’ll burn out and probably have a miserable time.  In a short trip, pick one (maybe two) things that you really want to do, and focus on that.

Prioritize your money. I’m sure I’m not the only one who travels on a budget. Spend your money on what matters to you. That might mean staying in a cheap motel so you can afford the white-water rafting trip, foregoing the expensive tourist attractions so you can stay in a resort, or simply eating peanut butter sandwiches twice a day so you can enjoy the expensive local cuisine. If it doesn’t matter that much to you, don’t spend money on it.

Prioritize your time. Much of what I said in my previous blogs about time-saving and trip-planning apply to this.

Buford Mountain was a nice overnight trip.
Finally, in order for a short vacation to work, it’s important that you understand your goal for the trip, and whether or not you’ll actually enjoy it. If you need some down time and you relax best by kicking back on a beach, don’t plan a three-day adventure safari. If you’re ready to fill your day with activities and go on a bunch of adventures, that’s great, but don’t try to force yourself to do that.

Although short trips always leave you wanting more, they are still a great way to refresh yourself and experience new things. Remember to be wise about your resources, know your priorities, and savor every moment!

~~~


Monday, May 27, 2013

Memorial Day


Today I remember my great uncle Norman, who died in World War II. Today, I will get together with my friends for a barbecue and celebrate the freedom that the brave men and women of the Armed Forces fought for. To everyone who is or has been in the military, thank you.


Saturday, May 25, 2013

Missouri Still Has Much to Learn About Clouds


A typical gray day in Missouri:


A typical gray day in Washington:


Missouri’s clouds could use a little work.

~~~

Friday, May 24, 2013

100-Word Memoir: Grandma Ada's Death


In the bluish light of a late afternoon, Dad sat on the couch, staring out the window at the blue jays on the bird feeder. I bounded into the room and scrambled up beside him. I noticed his face was turned away and his shoulders were shaking. I didn’t know what he was laughing at, but I giggled loudly to join in the fun.

Mom gently touched my shoulder. “Lisie, Daddy isn’t laughing. He’s crying.”

My laugh vanished. Embarrassed and confused, I crumpled into the couch. At that age, the difference between laughing and crying was almost impossible to decipher.

~~~

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Where to Go: International Rose Test Garden, Portland, Oregon




The first time I ever visited Portland, Oregon, I was dead tired from waking up at 4am to catch my flight. After I got lost on my way to the hostel and plopped my backpack down there, I took to wandering the city, viewing everything through a daze and getting increasingly paranoid that I was being followed.
My feet drew me further from the city, headed up a road that led up one of the mountains (later I learned they were considered “hills”). After a few blocks I discovered a small but official-looking hiking trail that wound up under the fir trees. I followed it through several switchbacks until it spilled out onto a wide paved path, which soon opened up to a huge open space. And that’s how I discovered Portland’s Rose Test Garden.

It was early September, so the blossoms were in full bloom. Although my jet-lagged head didn’t clear, I found this colorful area restful after the grungy busyness of the city below. I wandered around like a little kid, thinking of nothing but petals and colors and sunlight dappled on dewy leaves.

So should you ever find yourself wandering Portland, Oregon in late summer or early autumn, find your way to the rose gardens. You’ll be glad you did.






Monday, May 20, 2013

Travel Stories: The Monterey Bus Stop


The afternoon of March 7th, 2010, I sat on a bus from Salinas to Monterey, California. I was on week three of my trip to California, short on money, still unsure of when I was going home, and tired from a long day of transferring from bus to train to bus. Plus, the driver had mild road rage, yelling at anybody who cut him off. 

I knew nothing about Monterey except that it had a hostel and an aquarium. I was headed to the former. As we pulled into town, I stared at the long line of homeless people squatting at the perimeter of a parking garage with brightly-colored sleeping bags. A couple minutes later the bus stopped at the main transit center, a cheerful-looking town square with potted flowers and a pavilion or two. I hopped out into the warm sun and looked around till I spotted a respectable-looking older couple who were probably locals.

Walking up to them, I asked, “Excuse me, I’m trying to get to 778 Hawthorne Street. Do you know how far that is?”

“Oh sure,” the husband said, and told me which bus to get on.

“Thanks,” I said, “but do you think it’s close enough to walk?” I had allotted a couple dollars for dinner, and I didn’t want to use that money on a bus fare if the distance was only a mile or so.

The husband and wife both looked startled. “Oh, no, no,” they said, interrupting each other to give new information. “Definitely too far to walk. And you wouldn’t want to walk, anyway! My cousin had her purse stolen once, and on the news there was that person who got mugged! Take the bus, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

A little rattled, I thanked them and wandered to my bus stop, glancing around nervously. Monterey looked like a nice normal tourist town, but now I was feeling paranoid.

A minute later, a guy about my age walked by, his arm slung over his girlfriend’s shoulders. Suddenly I heard a screeching voice scream, “Hey! HEY!” A middle-aged woman strode toward the couple, and the guy frowned, clearly recognizing her. The older woman flew off into a rage like a jealous lover, screaming at him for two-timing her. The young couple just gazed at her with glazed-over eyes until she finished her rant and stormed off. Then the couple continued walking, frowning.

Now I was hopping from foot to foot in anticipation of the bus. What kind of a weirdo town was this?

At last the bus pulled up and I hopped on, sitting down in my seat with a sigh. I hoped the hostel had a good “free leftover food” bin.

Two minutes later, the bus driver pulled to a stop and called, “Monterey International Hostel.”

I don’t usually swear, but I thought about it at that moment.

As usual, everything turned out okay: the hostel was fantastic (and the front desk guy was awesome), and I was able to scrounge up a nice meal from the other guests’ leftovers. Monterey itself turned out to be a lovely tourist town with all sorts of beautiful things to explore. When I left, I hoofed it to the transit center without once feeling even a little unsafe.

That day, I learned to figure out directions beforehand… and never trust non-walkers to tell me how far it is to anywhere.

~~~

Saturday, May 18, 2013

And the Moral of the Story Is, It Does Hurt to Ask

Do I look pregnant? I submit that
I do not! I need to go eat cake now...

On Thursday, I was shuffling through the dress racks at Salvation Army when a woman with a huge black sunhat entered my aisle. I looked up at her, smiled, and said, “I like your hat!”

“Thanks!” she said brightly, then glanced at the potbelly (aka my “butter tummy”). “So are you due soon?”

My brain had a conniption of indecision, trying to decide whether to teach her a lesson through embarrassment, or tell her a made-up due date. I blurted out a cheerful, “Not yet,” and escaped to the other side of the rack, leaving her to sort out what that might mean.

Suddenly I didn’t feel like trying on dresses anymore. I meandered over to the kitchen goods section and rooted through the utensils. My thoughts went something like this: Hmm, a ladle. We could really use a ladle, for dishing out all those INCREDIBLY NUTRITIOUS SOUPS THAT I MAKE. Oh, and here’s a potato masher so I can make my own mashed potatoes and LIGHTLY AND RESPONSIBLY SALT THEM, and— hey, look! A watermelon baller! Now I can scoop out watermelons easier and make TASTY AND SLIMMING HEALTH MEALS WITH THEM. Right? RIGHT?

And then I speed-walked home and baked a cake.

The End.

~~~

Friday, May 17, 2013

100-Word Memoir: Complex Literary Devices in "Clifford, the Big Red Dog"


(Note: I don't know for sure how old I was when this took place, but I’m guessing six.)

One day, I was using my newly-acquired reading skills to tackle a story about Emily Elizabeth and her giant dog Clifford visiting a fire station. Emily Elizabeth pointed out that Clifford was red, just like the fire trucks!

This exploded my mind.

Did the author consider that parallel when he started writing the series, or did he just think it up as he wrote? How was either of those options possible? The intellectual capacity of the author staggered me. I wondered, could I ever write a story with that much depth?

In my brain, a door had been opened.

~~~

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Where to Go: Antelope Island, Utah

Antelope Island is pretty even from a distance.
It's not an antelope, but bison are pretty cool, too!
A causeway lets you easily drive to the middle of the Great Salt Lake.
The view from the Fielding Gar Ranch isn't bad, either.


This isn’t the first time on my blog that I’ve mentioned Antelope Island, a nature reserve surrounded by the Great Salt Lake. A few days ago, I stumbled on the stunning bird photography on this website, and that made me want to revisit my own photos of this one-of-a-kind area. 

This is what I wrote about it in a blog from 2011:

“The Great Salt Lake is the remnant of a prehistoric lake that spanned most of western Utah back in the day. Fed by three mineral-rich rivers (the Jordan, Weber, and Bear), the lake only loses water through evaporation, so the water gets saltier every year. The largest creatures that inhabit its cloudy waters are brine shrimp the size of fingernail clippings. These, coupled with vast amounts of brine flies, draw a host of birds. Avocets, black-and-white wading birds with orange shoulder and upturned bills, feed in the shallows while American coots, duck-like birds with black plumage and white bills, paddle around in the deeper areas. “Deeper” is a relative term— although the Great Salt Lake covers 1,700 square miles, on an average year it barely gets deeper than 30 feet.

“The visitor center boasted a dizzying amount of information (Antelope Island contains rocks older than the bottom of the Grand Canyon, apparently), but my favorite part was a clip from a silent film shot on location on the island. Mostly a bloodbath of bison hunting and dramatic scenes of pioneers getting caught in quicksand, it contained such thought-provoking dialogue (written neatly in white Times font) such as “If Brigham Young, the Mormon leader, could get out west with all them wives, then I can sure ‘nough do it with my wagons!” We also visited a working cattle ranch with historical buildings that showed the history of the ranch from the first white settlers in the mid-1800s up until present day.”

Why you should go: If you’re a history buff or a nature lover, this island has plenty to offer. It showcases an interesting slice of western history and is an essential resting place for migratory birds, not to mention a unique ecosystem and a stunning panorama. 

How to get there: Here are driving directions.

What to bring: Money— a day pass is $9 per car or $3 a person if you’re walking/cycling in. Bring sturdy clothes and shoes if you want to hike, and some sort of protection from the sun since there aren’t any trees. Pack a picnic lunch and lots of water. If you have a camera and a pair of binoculars, be sure to take them along too!

What else you need to know: If you’re not a hiker, there is still plenty to see; you can pull off the road in most places, have a picnic, and admire the scenery. Be sure to check out the visitor’s center and the ranch, which both help expand on the island’s past, both geologically and historically.


Wednesday, May 15, 2013

A Turtle on the Road


Yesterday, Zach wanted to take a long walk, and I wanted to hide under the covers and eat ice cream. I’m thankful to have a husband who makes me walk 12 miles when I’m feeling like that. If I don’t walk enough, then my body starts punishing me by feeling awful (which, ironically, makes me want to hide under the covers and eat ice cream instead of walking). Zach breaks the vicious cycle and rewards me with pizza. 

My husband, usually a fan of cold rainy weather, felt his California roots stirring him to run outside and enjoy the dry heat (he was born in Sacramento). Around 4:00, he finally convinced me to put on my sunhat, lace up my shoes and step outside into the gusts of hot dry air. Don’t get me wrong— I hate St. Louis’s humid summers as much as the next person, but dry heat saps out every ounce of fluid in my body, and no matter how much water I chug, I’m always thirsty. (Wow, Shafter, that’s a promising sign, since 600 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail runs through the middle of a desert!)

But I digress. I was going to tell you about the turtle.

Zach and I were chugging down the Katy Trail by the side of the busy 45-mph road Arena Parkway, blinking in the overbearing sun, when Zach gave a cry and pointed to the shoulder. I looked, and gasped too: there was a footlong snapping turtle crawling toward the traffic!

We ran out to the shoulder and stared at this weird beauty: he had a mud-colored shell worn smooth, a head the size of my fist with cute wet blinking eyes, legs as thick as my wrist with impressive claws, and an alligator-like tail. Two tear-drop-shaped leeches clung to the top rear of his shell, squirming in the sun. (Why would leeches be attached to a turtle’s shell? I do not know.) An Internet search today revealed that this sucker (“Mr. Turtle,” as I oh-so-creatively named him) was an Eastern Snapping Turtle.

As Zach and I approached, Mr. Turtle raised his thick back legs and scrunched his head into his shell, sticking his butt in the air in some sort of defensive posture. Zach and I debated: we couldn’t herd him back into the grass because there was a curb in the way, but neither of us thought it was wise to pick up a footlong snapper. (The Internet confirms our conclusion: apparently the only safe way to pick one up is by the tail, at arm’s length.) I tried to guide him with my foot, but he whipped his body around and hissed, making me jump back.

This isn't Mr. Turtle, but one of his cousins in Maryland. (Photo source)
At last we decided there was nothing we could do but hope for the best. We watched him worriedly as he altered his original course and started walking parallel to the road down the shoulder. Why on earth, we wondered, would a giant turtle leave the water, climb up a steep embankment, cross the trail and hop down from a curb to head out into traffic? What did he hope to find on the other side? 

Later that night, our brother drove us back along the road, where we anxiously looked for the remains of Mr. Turtle. We didn’t see any roadkill, so we let out sighs of relief, still wondering what became of the brave wanderer and his faithful leeches.

~~~

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Travel Tip Tuesdays: Logistics and Time-Saving on the Road


Question from last week, which stretched into two blogs:

What’s the easiest way to plan what we’re going to do when we get there? I always want to plan things so that we don’t waste time doing nothing, but I get overwhelmed trying to figure out a timeline for things.

Last week, I talked about making a timeline. This week, I’m including all the miscellaneous tips I have left over.

First of all, three tips to help anyone avoid time-wasting: 

Know thy transportation. If you’re traveling via public transit, get a map of the entire system and study it while you’re on the bus so you know how to get where you need to go. If you’re taking a car or walking, keep a good map on hand. If you know how to smoothly navigate from place to place, you’ll have a much easier time of it.

As I mentioned last week, make your plans around geographic locations. My sister and I enjoy wandering all over cities and doubling back on ourselves several times, but it’s not very efficient.

Have a lot of backup options. When you plan your day around one big event, you might find it takes a lot longer or shorter than you expected. That’s why backup options are so handy— you can discard them without any loss to the quality of your trip, or find time to visit that ornamental rose garden after all.

As I was compiling these lists, I realized that some of my posts directly pertained to traveling in a group. Travel with two or more people can get more complicated, but it’s lots of fun. Here are my best tips.

Choose a leader. Ideally, the leadership should be fluid, but at any given time in the trip, there must be one person who is taking all the choices and opinions into consideration and making the final decision. Otherwise you waste incredible amounts of time trying to figure out simple things, like “Where should we eat?” “What should we buy at the grocery store?” “Which museum should we visit today?” A sympathetic but decisive leader eliminates the endless debates and discussions.

Figure out a money system. Here’s what’s worked for me in the past: each person on the trip takes a turn putting $20 of gas into the car. (This was traveling with a bunch of single people: you’d have to take in account married people.) Each person also pays for his or her own food, making deals with other people (“Want to put in half to buy this huge pack of lunchmeat?”) and sharing as they wish. (Hint: Communal food causes conflict very quickly.) Split hotel bills into even fractions. This is the easiest way to make the finances fair. 

Be open to splitting up for a while. When I traveled to the Grand Canyon with a couchsurfing friend, Amanda, I appreciated that she knew when we should go our separate ways for the day. We hiked a few miles together in the morning, and then she decided to chill, have a little picnic, walk her dog, and take a nap in her trailer. I wanted to hike the rim as far as I could, so we parted ways and met up at evening for dinner. Both of us had a much better time that we would have with a compromise.

Whether traveling solo or in a group, be sure to have a strong leader, figure out details in advance, and stay chill about your schedule. After all, the point of all this planning is to help you relax and enjoy your trip.

~~~


Monday, May 13, 2013

Depression, According to Hyperbole and a Half


For most of my life, I’ve been a pretty happy-go-lucky person. I worried a lot as a child— for instance, every time I got a stomachache I assumed I had cancer— but those moments tended to pass quickly and my outlook has always been generally optimistic. 

Growing up in a family where depression is rampant, I’ve also always been aware that my optimism was a gift, and was not something that I accomplished on my own through the power of positivity. Still, it’s always been hard for me to understand what depression is. I realized that I’ve only experienced true depression twice, for relatively short periods of time— the other times when I thought I was depressed, I was just sad. 

This cartoon by Hyperbole and a Half is surprisingly one of the most articulate and eye-opening discourses on depression that I’ve ever read. I think it’s important to read for people like me, who have never struggled with depression long-term, and who have a hard time grasping that someone could feel like that for any amount of time. It’s well worth a read.

~~~

Saturday, May 11, 2013

All Women Have Leg Hair (or, Reconsidering Conventions of Beauty)


(Men probably won’t have much interest in this post: it’s about female leg hair, which is an odd thing to blog about when half a person’s intended audience are male. So guys, do not feel obligated to read further. You gone now? Okay. That makes me feel a little less weird about posting this.)

On highway 70, I see a billboard for laser hair removal that shows a woman’s legs, girlishly skinny and smooth, with the tag-line, “Be Ideal.” This sums up a convention that almost every woman I know adheres to: smooth legs are sexy, and hairy legs are embarrassing and gross. However, all women have hairy legs (and armpits). It’s as natural as the hair on our heads. So why do we feel the need to shave ourselves in order to be attractive?

Like every girl I know, I started shaving my legs when I hit puberty. It was annoying at first and it took me weeks to get down the technique without cutting myself, but I was intent on ridding my limbs of the scraggly hair that grew afresh every day. I never questioned this compulsive action, because what self-respecting girl would go out in shorts with hairy legs? This wasn’t, and never has been, based on a fear of guys considering me unattractive— I just assumed people in general would think I was gross and masculine.

As a teen I wasn’t too concerned about my appearance, so I never stewed over the issue. I did, however, feel embarrassed when faced with the prospect of leaving the house with my stubbly legs in view. Whenever I wanted to wear a skirt, I felt obligated to give my legs a once-over. When I didn’t have time for that, I wore a longer skirt and kept my feet tucked under me, hoping that no one would see.

When I was 21, I left for my first farm volunteer trip in Washington state. On the first farm, I worked four hours a day with some hardcore hippies. These girls did not shave anything, and I was both shocked by the sight of how hairy women’s legs can get, and jealous of their self-confidence. On the second farm, I didn’t shower for two weeks straight, and so of course the thought of shaving never occurred to me. On one of my last evenings there, a new volunteer came to visit. I was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing shorts, and my legs were hairier than they had ever been in my life. And for a second, I felt honestly embarrassed to be meeting this new girl when my legs were so hairy. Then I laughed at myself. Here I was, greasy-haired, smelling like compost, callused and sunburned, and I was worried about my stupid leg hair? That was my first clue that I cared about the cultural conventions way too much.

Over the next couple years, I began loosening up. I shaved when I wanted to, and strolled out hairy-legged when I wanted to. I gained the confidence that I had envied in my hippie farm friends.

Do I still shave my legs? Yes, sometimes. I shaved them yesterday and I like that they feel smooth and shiny. Like a guy shaving his face, it’s a nice way to feel cleaner. But before that, I hadn’t shaved in months. I just didn’t feel the need to. I’m a woman, and I have hairy legs just like any other woman. As with anything, it’s important not to let the fleeting conventions of beauty make a decision for you.

~~~

Friday, May 10, 2013

100-Word Memoir: At First Sight


The instant I saw him, I liked him. 

It’s funny that I can’t remember where we were on Cornerstone Festival’s expansive grounds, or if we made eye contact, or if we exchanges words besides our names. I was struck by his ridiculously curly long hair, nervous downward glance, band t-shirt, and slight slump as if he didn’t want to seem too tall. 

Ooh, a shy one, I thought. I’m going to be his friend! I was shy during my early teen years, so I had a heart for coaxing timid people out of their shells.

I had no idea.

~~~

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Seven Steps to Excellent Writing for the Beginning Author


Here is a simple concept that inspires everything I do: hard work is more important than talent. You can be ridiculously talented, but if you don’t work hard, it means little to nothing. However, if you have a driving passion and a determination to get better no matter how hard it is, you have a chance at accomplishing your dream.

If this dream involves writing, but you feel like you don’t have much talent, don’t let it bother you. If you diligently follow these seven steps, I guarantee that you’ll find the path to excellent writing. It might take years or even decades, but if you really want to write, nothing will stop you.

Step one. Write a novel (or series of short stories or articles or memoir or nonfiction book). Don’t worry about being right or wrong or clever or original or good. Just write it.

Step two. While you’re doing that, read a couple dozen books in your genre, and a couple dozen books in completely different genres. 

Step three. Read books about writing. I recommend Elements of Style by Strunk and White, Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maass, Stein on Writing by Sol Stein, Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Browne and King, and Sin and Syntax by Constance Hale.

Step four. When you finish your book, start identifying the weak points (ask a trusted friend to help) and revise.

Step five. Write another novel/short story/article collection/memoir/nonfiction book, or completely rewrite the one you already have. 

Step six. Revise, revise, revise. Try to publish your work. Get rejected. Revise some more and repeat.

Step seven. Repeat steps one through seven until your writing is excellent. And then keep on working. 

Nobody said this was easy— but after all, things worth doing rarely are.

~~~

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

My Sister, the Fantastic Wig Model


Yesterday, while rooting through my photos in search of a fitting illustration for my blog, I stumbled upon this picture:


It’s from my first solo trip, a month-long stay in Bellingham, Washington. My sister Mary came out to join me on my last week. Apparently we wandered into some thrift shop and found this amazing wig (and the hat I should’ve bought). I was 20 and she was 17. I had just quite three of my five jobs in order to start traveling, and she was finishing up her final year of high school. It’s kind of freaky that we look exactly the same then as we do now— this picture could’ve been taken yesterday if Mary or I had found a way to teleport.

So much has changed since I snapped this shot. But one thing has remained constant: we still love taking goofy photos.


Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Travel Tip Tuesdays: How to Make a Trip Timeline


What’s the easiest way to plan what we’re going to do when we get there? I always want to plan things so that we don’t waste time doing nothing, but I get overwhelmed trying to figure out a timeline for things.

This is a very good question, and as I was writing this blog, I realized that the subject deserves two blogs to cover it properly. Thus, I’ve divided it into two parts: timeline skills and planning skills. Planning skills will come next Tuesday, but in the meantime, here are some tips about timelines!
Spontaneity is the cause of many lovely adventures,
such as stumbling onto a nude beach, as my sister
and I did on our  first trip to San Francisco!

First of all, find a timeline format that works for you. I usually write out my plans as a list, but it might be more helpful to use a calendar, either digital or paper. When making a timeline, you might want to cover these four elements:

Transportation. Note your planned travel times to get to your destination. When traveling by plane, this is straightforward, but driving time can significantly vary. Either way, be sure to leave lots of room. When traveling from Missouri to North Carolina with my siblings, our transportation plans consisted of, “Drive a little past Atlanta and get a hotel. Drive to Emerald Isle the next day, arrive sometime in the evening.” Leave lots of room for bathroom breaks, picnics, and traffic jams.

Lodging. Know in advance where you’re spending the night. This is essential to the peace of mind that allows you to run around all day having a good time. If you have enough money, this isn’t a worry, because you can always check into a hotel. If you’re on a budget, devote a bit more time to figuring this out in advance. A hostel is a nice low-budget option if the city has one (be sure to book it ahead of time; they fill up fast). I also recommend couchsurfing. Think creatively. When I was traveling solo, I spent an in-between night at an IHOP. When six friends and I were traveling together, we threw our sleeping bags on the concrete at a rest stop on the salt flats of Utah. 

A rest stop in Utah: I had no idea I was
chatting with my future husband.
Activities. This is the most unpredictable part of planning (and something I never worried too much about, which often resulted in me wandering a city for hours trying to figure out what to do). My best advice is to research your destination(s) in advance, and make a list of activities and sights that interest you. Divide this list into “Must Do,” “Want to Do,” and “Do If You Have Time.” Group the activities by geographical location: it makes no sense to zigzag all over town.

Food. It’s a good idea to have some notion of what food is available in the various places you visit. If you have a lot of money, this usually isn’t something to worry about. But if you’re on a budget, it can be tricky. I suggest that you always carry enough food and water to get you by. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve found myself stranded in a part of the city (or in the middle of a state park) without any cheap food around. If you have to stop what you’re doing and attempt to locate food, you waste a lot of time. Snack all day long to avoid interruption. (Here are some of my favorite travel foods.)

A few other tips:

Let things take as long as they take. If you realize that you need five hours to experience this museum to its fullest, take the five hours and don’t worry about what you “should” be doing otherwise. If you realize that this park just isn’t as nice as you thought it would be, don’t feel guilty about going on to something else. 

Keep the weather in mind. “Spend day at the beach” is foiled pretty quickly when a lightning storm hits. Be sure that you have a back-up plan, or can shuffle around your schedule to accommodate the weather.

Plan rest days. If you are traveling more than three or four days, build in at least one rest day where you don’t have any big activities planned. Otherwise, you might need a vacation from your vacation when you get home!

Don’t let your schedule cripple you. A timeline is here to help, not to restrict you. I love being spontaneous, so if I find out about a neat museum, a cool little restaurant, a farmer’s market or a busker’s fair, I rush to go off and see it. If you feel obligated to stick to the things you’ve written down, you may miss something. That said, a schedule is there to help you prioritize what is really important to you, and if you follow it, you’ll end up making the most of your time instead of wasting hours trying to figure out a game plan as you go along.

Next week… more planning skills!

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Have a travel question? Leave a comment and I’ll answer in a future blog.