yourpassions.tk

One morning last month, I awoke to find the world shrouded in translucent, luminous mist. The huge oak tree one hundred feet across the yard was visible only as a dark form. I love misty mornings, but seldom experience them. Lacking a compelling reason , I rarely leave the house before noon. The mist was compelling. I slid into shoes, grabbed my camera and headed out the door. It’s challenging to describe the sensory delight that enfolded my senses. The air was neither warm nor cool, and the moist air enfolded me in the most gentle, nurturing way. It was as if the air and I merged to become one. Ordinary thought gave way to a sense of total awe. The wafting wisps of fallen clouds kissed my flesh, like tender caresses from Mother Nature herself. I felt transported into a mystical world. The street, which runs through the woods along the side of a steep hill, was nearly deserted, so I strolled down the middle, taking the occasional picture of dark tree shapes against misty grayness. If I...

I arrived home yesterday from my great adventure in Austin to find The Albuquerque Years awaiting inspection. I’m pleased to report that it passes with flying colors. The cover looks exactly as I expected — except — I got the title wrong on the spine! Can you believe it? This is why you should always order a preview copy of anything you do. I might not ever have noticed this fluke, and probably nobody else would either. I only noticed it when I inspected the spine to make sure it was exactly centered. I ’m pleased to report that it is. The error is easy enough to fix, and I’ll simply upload the file again, so it will be correct for future volumes. I ’ ll also extract the stray comma from the middle of a sentence on the author bio page. Of course that's the first thing I noticed in there ... . (Taking such pains to get the finished product as close to perfect as I can make it is a personal preference. We each set our own standard. You'd have to know the story of how my mother t...

Telling stories seems to be one of the most natural ways to cope with tragedy. Mixed with the joy of our family's newest addition, is the grief my daughter and her husband are experiencing following a near-fatal accident involving a close friend, Jeff Byers. Jeff survived the accident, but only through the miracles of modern medical technology. He remains in a coma, though signs of healing are appearing, and his long-term prognosis is anyone’s guess. I have never met Jeff, and I don’t remember hearing about him, but each day Chris Mack, my son-in-law, has been writing a blog entry comprised of a story based on memories of his experiences with Jeff, and I ’m beginning to feel that he ’s my friend too . Chris told me that he wrote the first story, “Because it felt like the right thing to do,” and he continues writing them for the same reason. He agrees that it helps him cope with his own grief and dismay, and hopes it may serve the same purpose for mutual friends who may read the st...

Although I’m not tuned into the calendar just now, when I sat down to check e-mail, I realized that today is the anniversary of that Day of Infamy. Memories flooded back, and they deserve blog space. Around 9:25 on Tuesday morning, September 11, 2001, I was driving to a Computer Club meeting at our Senior Citizen Center when I heard something about a plane flying into one of the Towers. Is this a replay of some historic happening? I wondered, but I couldn't recall a time when a plane flew into the World Trade Center. Maybe it's like War of the Worlds , I thought, though it was a bit early in the day for such shenanigans, and I was listening to NPR. It sounded awfully real. “And now we'll switch to (??) for live coverage from the World Trade Center ...” Feeling strangely unsettled, I switched the car off and went inside. When I saw the crowd glued to the television in the lounge, I knew. This was real! Gasping for breath, I dashed down the hall to our meeting room and found ...

Anna Sophia, our newest granddaughter, arrived safe, sound, and healthy on September 7. She and her mommy are doing great. Dad is proud as a peacock, and big sister is fascinated, at least so far. Grandmama is swamped. Keeping up with a two-year-old is more work than it seemed thirty-several years ago. Also more fun. Today the two of us went to the weekly Free Kids' Show at Ruta Maya, a coffee house in Austin. This is the place to take tots on Sundays in Austin. The place was SRO. The show featured a juggler who specializes in juggling machetes — heady stuff for wee ones and beyond comprehension for grannies. Although my own list of story ideas is growing by the hour, it's time to take a Grandmother Break. I shall resume blogging in two or three weeks. Until then, keep those fingers flying across the keys or pages. Write on, Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

I’d like to thank Bhaswati for reminding me of one of my favorite Natalie Goldberg quotes: “Writers live twice. They go along with their regular life ... But there’s another part of them that they have been training. The one that lives everything a second time. That sits down and sees their life again and goes over it. Looks at the texture and details.” — Natalie Goldberg , Writing Down the Bones I’m starting to think that we may even squeeze more lives out. As I worked intensely on writing, editing and polishing The Albuquerque Years , I essentially relived my preschool years, experiencing more richness and meaning than I did the first time through Right now, I’m in Austin, visiting our daughter, whose second daughter will be born tomorrow. In an unexpected way, I ’m reliving those Albuquerque years in yet another way . This afternoon I spent some time in the backyard with soon-to-be big sister Sarah, who turned two in July. Sarah spent about half an hour arranging small rocks in var...

In The Albuquerque Years , I write of visits to Aunt Phoebe. She wasn't a biological aunt, but she and Uncle Wayne more or less adopted my mother's father, giving him a job and a place to live when he was a vagabond (aka homeless) teenager in southern New Mexico. My grandfather worked for Uncle Wayne for many years, and even after he and my grandmother were married, they lived on the Crowder's property for a few years. So, in truth, they were more family than most of the relatives. Anyway, as a small child, I wasn't terribly aware of ages, except for Aunt Phoebe's mother, Ma Plowman, who lived with them. To me as a preschooler, Ma was a scary old hag who chewed tobacco and used a spittoon, wobbled on her cane when she walked, only had a few teeth, and ... you get the picture. I did not want to be around Ma! As I wrote The Albuquerque Years and began thinking more deeply about the Crowder family's relationship to mine, I realized that Aunt Phoebe was probably o...

I’m pleased to report that I was finally able to upload my finished files to Lulu.com, and place an order for one copy. Perhaps this project will be the exception, but there are always flukes that show up in the first copy. When I’m satisfied that all is as it should be, I’ll post a link to the file on Lulu. To my surprise, the process has been far more complicated than I anticipated. It sounds so simple to get your manuscript laid out just the way you want it, “print” it to a pdf file, and upload that to Lulu. Indeed it was that simple for the Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing manuscript (that was working with a traditional publisher, not Lulu). The challenge there was getting Word to behave with all the graphics I used. This time, Word behaved surprisingly well, but getting the pdf right was another matter, and I even used Acrobat to “distill” it. I won’t elaborate on the details here, though I may post them to the Lulu user forums and elsewhere. Unless you are a serious Power Use...