The Mustache Dream

Tired of me yet? My biggest fear is not that you will tire of me, but that I'll make this revelation so complicated and enormous it will become burdensome instead of freeing. I'd be tempted to stop, except for the mustache dream.

Two days after the election, and two posts later, I dreamed I had a Sam Elliott-Tom Selleck sized walrus mustache. For some reason, it was blonde, but I don't believe that has anything to do with anything. I shaved that sucker off as fast as I could, and it took a ridiculously long time and left a pile of luscious blonde locks on the floor.

While I don't ascribe to Freud (or Jung) or their theories about dream interpretation (I'm was a Minuchin gal myself in practice), I do believe the brain is complicated and occasionally expresses things in ways we don't immediately recognize. This is all rationalization-speak for why I went to Dream Moods dream dictionary to see what they say the mustache was all about. 

To dream that you have a mustache when you don't really have one signifies that you are hiding an aspect of yourself. You are putting on a disguise or showing a different aspect of your personality. If you are a woman and dream that you have a mustache, then it indicates that you are expressing your power through your words and your verbal expression.

To dream that you shave off your mustache denotes that you are revealing your true self. You no longer have to hide under some disguise or some shield. 

Interesting. Days after deciding to consciously express my Biblical worldview and conservative values on my blog, I dream this. I don't know how they draw their conclusions, but I'm a little impressed. 

With my subconscious' full approval, then, I continue this self-imposed quest of cultural influence on an infinitesimal scale. It may only be to cement those beliefs in my own mind. That's OK. 

And because my curiosity got the better of me again, I looked up the blonde thing. 
 

To dream that you dye your hair blonde indicates that you literally need to lighten up and quit being so serious all the time. Try  to be more upbeat.

There you have it. I'm also supposed to keep it light and funny. I'll do my best.

Keep the faith. 

Maintain, Don't Gain

My insurance plan offers a substantial reduction in premiums if I "earn" points the previous year through health "challenges." I have no problem with employers or insurance companies offering incentives to encourage healthy lifestyles, thus reducing the need for preventable health-related expenses and keeping overall health care costs down for every customer. Bribes work. Even Proverbs agrees with that (Prov 17:8). Earning these points has never been an issue for me because, by their definitions, I'm a healthy person.

The point requirements were changed this year (as is their right). I have to do a little more to qualify than usual. In theory, this is not a problem because, again, I'm a healthy person. However, I'm also a person who doesn't like anyone "in my business," including my health insurance company. I resent checking in with my daily healthy choices.

Being a mature adult who wants that discounted premium, I am adapting and participating in one of their challenges to get the extra points I need. It was a personal goal I made months ago when I got my pants altered after losing all the weight during the spring, so it isn't out of my way to participate in the "Maintain, Don't Gain" during the holidays. I get daily points for each of the following:

• Exercising 30 minutes or more 
• Eating a healthy breakfast
• Eating a healthy lunch
• Limiting treat foods to 1 serving or less
• Limiting alcoholic or sugary beverages to 1 serving or less

Except for the exercise (unless it's Swamp Season), I generally do all this anyway, but having to tell them I do all this is galling. I fear that accepting the reporting requirements will train me to accept worse down the road. At what point does voluntary involvement become indentured servitude?

I'm thinking about it way too much, you say. You think about it for a while, and tell me if I'm wrong. This is the "freedom above all" leaning of my conservative mind, the part I categorize as "Libertarian" because it's inclined to be contrary in the name of freedom, and prefer stubborn resistance to reasonable cooperation because cooperation leads to dependence and that must be avoided at all costs.

Anyway, I'm watching what I eat and using that 30 minutes of exercise to burn off my irritation at having to report it, and, I expect, I'll lose weight over the next 6 weeks. Which will irritate me, too, because that's not the goal. Welcome to my OCD hell.

Keep the faith.

Point of View

Point of View is a daily talk show whose motto is "Defending Family, Faith and Freedom." The show is over 20 years old and used to air on a radio station here in Topeka until that station changed hands and formatting. I wasn't willing to give up the show, so I started listening to the broadcast on the internet.

The best day of my life was the day I met host Kerby Anderson in person, and got to hear him interview Kris Kobach, then running for Kansas' Secretary of State. Click the link to read about that. It seems tame now when I think of how pumped I still am about that day.

I listened to Point of View for years until I changed to a job where I can't listen at work.

The show is available for download, and they have a way to listen with your phone, but I'm the Turtle, and I don't use tech well. I stopped listening for nearly three years, although I continued to support the show monthly. They were the first ministry I ever donated to, and I had no qualms the quality would change just because I wasn't listening.

I was right. As part of my new year's resolutions (which for me started when my boss Kris Kobach was reelected for a second term as Secretary of State - Go, Kris!), I decided to give up the useless hour and a half of TV sitcom reruns I'd been watching after work, and replace it with a Point of View episode from the website pointofview.net.

And there they are. All my old friends, mentors, brothers and sisters on the front line of the culture war, examining current events under the lens of a Biblical worldview. Highlighting ways to spread God's love and light in the darkness. Modeling how to disagree without being disagreeable. Daily illustrating, time and again, my own views of what it means to be a Christian, to be a conservative, and to be compassionate without compromise.

I strongly encourage you to make Point of View part of your life. I have no doubt they will bless and challenge you.

Keep the faith.

The Second Punch

Punch number two came about after watching, of all things, Babylon 5. Yes, I watch Babylon 5. I consider it the soap opera version of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

The Minbari are my favorite race. They do everything in threes, including their caste system: warrior, worker and religious. The main character on the show, Delenn, is of the religious caste, so we see a lot of how those folks live.

The purpose of the religious caste is to express the religion of the Minbari, which is, in typical sci-fi fashion (if the goal isn't mocking religion in general, that is), an androgynous mismash of one-with-the-universe, reincarnation, karma kind of stuff.

Delenn is a kind of priestess, being high up the religious hierarchy, and everything she does expresses religious significance. This really comes home during her courtship with John Sheridan, but it's visible in most episodes. She's like a woman monk who can marry.

It got me thinking that if this fictional character could live her entire life with an active awareness and implementation of her religion, why don't I?

Yes, I know she's fictional, but I watch these shows because they make me think about my own life, so bear with me.

I have a real religion, and relationship, with Christ. Why is that not a deliberate part of my day? Praying, study of my holy book, applying what I study, seeking a oneness with Christ instead of the universe. Why couldn't I be as open and nonchalant about that as the Minbari are? No one looks twice at Delenn when she does her religious stuff. Yeah, yeah, she's Minbari, but the concept isn't that far off. The only downside I could see was starting. I might get some odd looks at first, but people would get used to it.   

I started. I started practicing my faith openly, with references to God and Jesus, with prayers, with attributing my actions to One above me. Yeah, I got a few looks at first, but practice makes easier, and nowadays people don't blink twice when I bring Him up. In fact, I've had more opportunities to witness than ever before, and in far more natural circumstances than meeting that stranger on the bus.

The hard part is the accountability. When I screw up, God gets the blame. I figure He's a big boy. He can handle it.

Keep the faith.

One of A One-Two Punch

I used to be a quiet Christian. I behaved myself and acted like a "good" person (I can't think that word anymore without hearing Jesus ask, "Why do you call me 'good?' Is anyone good but God?"), and figured people would know I did it because I'm a Christian.

I failed to reason how people would know that if I never mentioned Christ.

Then I read a primer on Islam from something like the Islamic Center for Muslim Outreach. I have it around here somewhere, but I'm too lazy to go find it. A totally legitimate, slightly more than a pamphlet about the seven pillars of Islam, and why I'd want to be a Muslim. I'd never seen a brochure for another religion, so I read it. And got a little convicted in my own religion.

Islam has some things going for it. Daily charity, for one. Respect for their holy book (According to the brochure, the Koran should be kept in a special place higher than anything else in the house and read through entirely every month. It's a bit smaller than the Bible, so this isn't as scary as it sounds). Sharing of their faith. Muslims are encouraged to proselytize.

Christians are encouraged to share our faith, too, by Jesus Himself in the Great Commission, if you want only one example, but we have so much else in the Bible to study and emulate some of us overlook that one.

So I'm pondering this book on Islam, and wondering, if they willingly, openly speak about a god that I believe is false, why am I hesitant to speak about the One I believe is true? That is the difference as I see it. My God actually exists. That's why I serve Him. If I didn't believe that, I'd do something easier with my life. Or I'd be a Muslim. Or a Wiccan. I have an affinity for the Wiccan worldview. It's very peaceful.

But I chose (and still choose) Christianity. Why was I silent about it?

I'm out of space, so I'll give you the second punch tomorrow.

Keep the faith.

Organizing My Thoughts

Last week I started a post on a very specific thought prompted by something on FB. In the course of writing, I realized a few things.

One, worldview is almost impossible to quantify. Every sentence I wrote led to another brick in the foundation of my worldview, and it felt like all of them needed explaining. For those who have a similar worldview, the explanations don't have to be lengthy, but for those on the 180 from my worldview, I'm talking utter nonsense. 

Two, it's a bit harder than I thought it would be to focus on why I consider myself a conservative without slinging a few snarky arrows at the other side. I am determined to do it, however. Kerby Anderson regularly says we can disagree without being disagreeable, and the fastest way to shut down communication is to fail to show respect to the humanity of the opponent.

Three, I need to organize my thoughts. I don't want to explore every issue in excruciating detail, but I don't want to cause more confusion, either. I am a creature of order. I'd like a little order in my presentation.



So, I made notes, and I hope to present a brief and somewhat ordered account of why I believe and behave the way I do. Much like Luke did when writing his Gospel. Except I don't claim this is divinely inspired. I'm crazy, but there are levels of craziness. Mine is mostly related to cats. 

For those worried about my fiction writing being sidelined by this new focus, rejoice. I'm on the last leg of Daughter of Anasca edits (with some help from My Dear Friend as gamma reader), and I've got a plan to finish Dangling Justice, which is a first. It's as though I've been trying so hard to be non-offensive, I'd stopped being able to say anything.

As I once told her, and My Dear Friend reminded me, "You can be my friend, or you can not be offended, but you can't be both." True dat.

Keep the faith.

A Load Off

You know, that little bit of writing yesterday morning about current events really helped my attitude. It's like I've been holding this huge burp inside, and I just couldn't move right until I got it out.

Yeah, that's disgusting. I'm the Turtle. Hear me revolt.

Has the depression lurking around the corners of my soul been because of my silence? Have I kept my opinions so quiet for fear of offending that I've stifled my own joy in life? Turned my anger inward, as the therapist in me would say?

I took a few minutes after yesterday's post and jotted about a dozen potential post topics relating to my conservative worldview. I haven't had a dozen post topic ideas in years. Literally.

Because this started as my writing blog, I've steered away from divisive topics that might attract trolls and alienate readers. But the fact is, I don't have much to say about writing at the moment. Plus, my worldview will spill out in my books. Not as obviously as in this blog, but I will always be conservative. I will always believe in God - an impossibly intelligent, powerful being able to create everything from nothing with a word. I will always believe in the sanctity of human life, even when I personally want to smack most humans within minutes - occasionally seconds - of meeting them. These beliefs will permeate my writing. They have to, because I write therapy books.

Anyway, I'm going to continue with the "thoughts on conservatism" theme for a while because at least I'm writing something, and it may help me write other things. If you don't care about conservatism, sorry. I will try to keep the posts brief and personal to me, sans ranting.

Keep the faith.

Radio Silence

I've had a lot to say over the past few months, but none of it seemed suitable for publication.

Writing well takes time and energy, and, while it could be argued I've had the former, the latter is sadly lacking. Again. I'm starting to think I have a low-iron issue. I guess that means I should return to the spinach ingestion. blech.

You might think the recent election (Republicans taking control of both national Houses, and keeping control in Kansas) would make me happy, since I am a registered Republican. It does not. Nothing in the political realm makes me happy nowadays.

Our representative republic (that's what America is, folks, not a democracy) is working. The people we've put on Capitol Hill do represent us. They are moderates with no plan, no concept of history or the future, no ability to work out differences, an entitlement mindset that believes it is not only OK to take from those who have and give to those who have not but mandated by God, when they espouse a belief in God (and many do. Americans in general still want a "religious" person in office, even if Americans in general don't know or care what religion it is).

The problem is not with the politicians. The problem is with us - the people being represented. We are divided, almost straight down the middle at this point. Multiple opposing worldviews attempting to express themselves in two parties. The only reason we still have two parties is because 50% of people vote along straight party lines because they don't care enough to pay attention. I used to be one of those.

E. Stephen Burnett got me thinking with one of his FB posts pre-election. It was along the lines of "conservatives worry about elections; liberals worry about changing culture." That's why liberals are winning, even if this election seems to disprove that (All this election proved is people are mad and don't know what to do about it).

So conservatives like myself need to take the time and energy to explain why we are conservatives, and demonstrate the implementation of those conservative values in our own lives. We must put our actions where our beliefs are, and hope to rub off on the 50% who've just never thought about it. I intend to break my radio silence with a few posts about why I am a conservative (forget Republican for now. That brand means less every day, just like "Democrat" means less every day). It may be too late, but maybe not.

Stop looking for a leader, folks. You're the leader. 

Keep the faith.

Spinach Smoothie

The quest for tooth improvement continues. I ate my bag of spinach like potato chips and learned an important lesson.

Spinach tastes funny.

Perhaps this is the aging of my taste buds, but the bag I ate was reminiscent of floral soap. Not the detergent taste I experience with cilantro. This was a persistent, pervasive floral scent that I couldn't wash away that made it difficult to remember I was eating food, not cleansing supplies.

I'd never thought of spinach tasting anything other than "green," so this is a bit off-putting. Until I get used to it, I'll ingest the majority of my spinach in juice form. I am using store-bought organic spinach. Maybe it will taste different from The Swamp.

I added a little water, lots of spinach, pineapple chunks and juice, vanilla Greek yogurt, one Fuji apple, and a dollop of honey because - can you believe it? - it wasn't sweet enough. Mostly, the honey and the yogurt seemed to smooth out the taste. That made a glass and a half of green frothy stuff.

I'm not giving portions because you'll have to see what makes you happy. The yogurt has so far been one portion/cup of Oikos because I didn't want to buy a whole tub if this went south as some of my experiments do. I liked it better with the yogurt than without, even though it didn't make much difference in consistency. I have a cheap blender, too, so my apple chunks retain some of their chunkiness.

Now I'll have to do a cost analysis, because Bolthouse Farms makes a drink called Green Goodness that has way more "stuff" in it (like seaweed and wheat grass) that I can ingest for $1 per serving. It's tempting to snap a cap and pour for $1 instead of assemble, make a mess, disassemble, clean the mess and start over with the blender every day. I probably get more fiber the old-fashioned way. I certainly get more exercise.

Happy Monday, dear readers. Eat your greens.

DIY Deodorant, part 2

Mrs. Iguana asks if I could store the stuff I made in a used deodorant tube. Last night, I would have said, "not without altering the ratio of powder to oil" because coconut oil turns soluble rather fast in my limited experience.

This morning, I would say, "yeah, you probably could if you store it in the fridge." When I took my tub out of the fridge pre-shower for after-shower use, it required fingernails.

A Friend posted a recipe with pics similar to mine on my Wall yesterday. The last pic gave me an idea, although it actually wasn't what the pic demonstrating at all. I believe if you wrap the deodorant in plastic wrap or a plastic bag and then cool it, it would retain that shape, provided you stored it in the fridge between uses. Maybe a muffin tin? This is the next thing I will try, since two days after starting the DIY deodorant, I remain pleased with the results.

Now I'm looking for a natural way to remove pit stains from clothes. *evil grin*

Happy Thursday, dear readers. May it not bite you.

P.S. Sept 29, 2014

It's still warm in Kansas, so I am storing the deodorant in a plastic bag in the fridge. Solidified nicely into a "stick" and far less messy. After five days, I'm also less stinky at the end of the day than I am with the Tom's brand. I'll be using this through the Winter. We'll see how well it performs in Kansas Summer. 

DIY Deodorant

Several months ago (maybe four?), I stopped using antiperspirants. I had a lot of reasons, but the final nail was a study suggesting preventing perspiration might create a link with breast cancer. Thus began the search for a smell-cancelling deodorant without antiperspirant, something currently impossible to find at Walmart.

The best I've found so far is Tom's brand deodorant from a health food store. My hippie descendant co-worker, who has never used antiperspirant, agreed this is the best she's found. It's still not enough to block the stink of the Turtle with unblocked armpit pores.

I turned my eyes to natural ingredient websites. You know, those hemp-growing, conspiracy theorists who run their computers from either solar panels or the nearest Starbucks that I both mock and respect for their refusal to care about either my mocking or my respect. I found an expensive recipe that supposedly works like magic, but I can't bring myself to spend $50 on GMO free arrowroot baking powder, even if it is the only time I'll ever have to buy it. Especially when the recipe only calls for 2 tbsp.

WGR showed me a recipe from her latest issue of Mother Earth that was cheap and easy, and therefore couldn't possibly work. Being the Turtle, I modified (pronounced BUHNgled) the recipe and kept going. Here is my modified version:

1/3 c baking soda

1/3 c corn starch

7 tbsp coconut oil

6 drops citrus oil (or any other scent, if you want scent)

I used it yesterday with good results. It wasn't a heavy sweat day, but there was no detectable odor until well after 4 PM, which beat out Tom's and could have been leftover from the clothes (I do what I can, but the Turtle sweats like a racehorse).

The biggest issue I had yesterday was the mess. Coconut oil and powder don't stay mixed, so the lotion must be shaken before applied. Then there's the lotion on the hands, which is slightly gritty and very oily, and almost required Dawn to wash off. This isn't too high a price for a non-stinky Turtle, but it's important to warn the reader.

I discovered the second problem this morning when the temp in the house dropped to 74 and the coconut oil partly solidified. I had to stir the lotion with a finger to liquefy the oil and mix the ingredients. So I guess I'll mix and store in the fridge until the temp around here drops to winter's consistent 69 degrees. That will be an unhappy few minutes every morning, but, again, not likely a deal-breaker.

Happy Wednesday, dear readers. Keep it clean.

P.S. March 27, 2015

I initially posted this with tea tree oil as an ingredient. Turns out tea tree oil has some estrogen-like properties, so applying it daily in the same area where I stopped using antiperspirants because of breast cancer concerns seems dumb. I initially added it for the antimicrobial properties. Coconut oil already has those. So does soap.

Writing Process Blog Hop

Jill Domschot tagged me to take part in this weeks ago. I completely spaced out/ dropped the ball/ moved on with my life/ dissed the honor. It wasn't quite my fault because since getting my blog URL issues solved, I created the unintended issue of "losing" all my Blogs I Follow. I would normally be reminded of such a tagging when Jill's blog changed places on my blog, but that didn't happen. Hopefully, I've fixed that, too, as of tonight.

The only reason I'm remembering to do this tonight is because I seriously don't want to edit the next chapter in my soon-to-be published book Daughter of Anasca. I wrote it years ago, it needs some tweaking, but I wove the whole thing so tight I'm afraid if I pull on any bits, it will unravel into a complete mess, and I just don't have the mental energy to deal with that this evening. 

Where was I?

Right. Four questions.

1) What am I working on?

Daughter of Anasca. A YA fantasy coming of age story of two sisters. Idea conceived 20+ years ago, written five or six years ago, and finally about to see the light of day. My non-writing beta readers liked it better than Star of Justice. I worked really hard to keep it at a PG rating so homeschoolers would have a chance to read it before their parents picked it up and freaked out at the first chapter. I promise, it gets better and worse if you keep going, but I believe you'll be pleasantly surprised at the end.

2) How does it differ from others in its genre?

It's a little more complicated than the YA I've read, which isn't much, let me tell ya. I like "coming of age" stories, but I hate stories about tweens and teens grappling with hormone issues. My girls are growing up fast, and it has nothing to do with who takes whom to the prom, although, being me, I had to throw some romance in there. It's fairly brutal, but The Flash's favorite series at 12 was about a girl with a meth head boyfriend, so... Is it worse? You be the judge. The adults aren't idiots. Coming of age is about entrance into the adult world. You wouldn't want that if everybody there is a drooling moron.

3) Why do I write what I do?

I write what I want to read. I like good vs. evil stories, but I'm old enough to know "good" and "evil" aren't always easy to recognize. I like "princess and bodyguard" stories, and, boy, will it show the more I produce. I like in-your-face fight scenes, both physical and emotional, and those are easier to justify in fantasy. I like consistency in world creation, and stretching "reality" without breaking it. I like knowing a book will end well, and I only really know that when I've written it.

4) How does my writing process work?

I wish I knew. It used to be obsessive. Then it was passive-aggressive. Currently, it's thwarted by cats. I'm going to have to train myself to write in the hour between putting them to bed and myself to bed, like I did with this post. For once, the dog left me alone, too.

I might have just enough brain power to go stare at that chapter some more, so I'll end here.

Look for Daughter of Anasca, coming soon. If the cats cooperate. 

Bias

I was recently asked how a fiction author avoids bias. The simple answer: she doesn't.

The questioner, who reads political spy thrillers, was irritated with a certain author because the author appeared to have an agenda in some books.

We all know authors write from their own worldviews. We all know authors write about topics that interest them (unless they have a specific reason that they can't, like "need money now so must accept boring freelance work"). Unless the author is a journalist devoted to giving just the facts (and how many journalists are encouraged to do that, nowadays?), bias will be present. I would argue bias is present even for the journalist, based on what facts are presented and in what order.

For the reader, it's not a question of avoiding bias. It's a question of which biases agree with your worldview, or, which biases stretch your worldview. I suspect a reader's favorite authors will demonstrate a close approximation of how the reader views the world, and, contrarywise, his least favorite authors will clash with his worldview in a manner too disconcerting to accept. 

For the author, the question could be "will this presentation of the universe as I understand it enthrall or disgust a reader?" Or, in Christian fiction, "will the CBA/ God/ secular worldview" be OK with my story? You know. The old "who's my audience" question.

Biases will present themselves on paper. A variety of good beta readers will help illuminate them. One or two reviews will illustrate them immediately, if you can stomach reading reviews. The best advice I can give to an author who wants to consistently sell her writing is "know your audience," write to their biases and don't worry about the rest of the world.

Happy Monday, dear readers. New week, fresh start. Enjoy.

Turtle in GIMPland

Grace has been and gone a week now, and the Turtle household has settled back into its regularly scheduled programming. With one difference. GIMP has joined the family.

Part of the Turtle's plan for this visit was instruction in GIMP, a free photoshop-like design program. Grace and Iguana use this program with great success on a regular basis. I should be able to do the same, correct?

I used to think so, but the program has other ideas.

GIMP is like a four story house with a basement, attic and wraparound porch, planned by a dozen culturally diverse architects and one alien who never spoke to each other, built by blind hermit crabs. All the cupboards, closets and drawers are mislabeled, upside down or actually dimensional portals to another universe. I do not exaggerate.

Grace says she thinks the GIMP designers went out of their way to avoid imitating Photoshop to avoid lawsuits. I don't know Photoshop, but I guess they succeeded. I don't know what the heck is going on half the time, and the other half I'm sitting there, paralyzed like Alice, thinking "It should be able to do this. Do I drink the potion or eat the mushroom to make it work?"

Grace also says sometimes the program really does go a little insane for whatever reason and refuses to do things it normally does. Good to know.

I have made some progress. This is the current cover, and perfectly OK to be the final cover, but I want to try to add some glowing eyes to the hoard in the back.

This is the current imprint and publishing name. I googled a lot of names I liked, but they were all taken. I'm still partial to "Grave Snapper Books," but I got voted down.

GIMP and I will continue to circle each other like feral cats, but we've found an uneasy truce for the moment that may blossom into consensual apathy.

Happy Thursday, dear readers. Watch your step. Never know where the next GIMP portal will open.

Grace Is Coming

Doesn't have quite the auditory impact as "Dawn is coming" from the season four finale of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but the potential is there.

A few things came home to me this week. I wrote Daughter of Anasca six years ago. That's when Caleb walked into my life, and became a character in that book. Six years. I've had a completed book (for the most part) sitting on my hard drive for six years. That's the time it takes a human to be born and start school.

That is waaaaay too long to do nothing with a finished manuscript.

If I remember correctly, and that's a big if considering six years have passed between then and now, I planned to produce a book every two years. I'm OK with slow and steady, but I've passed into imperceptible as far as movement goes. Part of me knew this, but seeing it there in black and white on the vet appt. reminder card put it all in perspective.

Time to get moving. Past time.

Grace knows things I want to learn. She seems amenable to teaching me. I have seven days to absorb how to format print and ebooks, the basics of GIMP and cover design, where and how to choose fonts, and how to make a book through CreateSpace. Oh, and how to hook my url to this blog so www.robynntolbert.com starts working again.

I doubt I can learn everything in that amount of time and still get some fun things in, like visiting cemeteries and hellmouths -mwahahahahahahaha!- but I intend to try.

Once Daughter of Anasca is out of the way, according to Orson Scott Card, I will have removed the primary block to writing my next book, Dangling Participles. We'll see.

Yes, I talk big. I've talked big in the past. But I've hit that "fish or cut bait" moment where I really do have to write...or stop. I don't believe I want to stop. That means I have to write.

Happy Wednesday, dear readers. Take a moment to review. Grace is coming.

Covers, Fonts and Pen Names

I've flailed around for a cover idea for Daughter of Anasca for years. I have only one experience with cover creation, but it had me in tears and nearly puking on a regular basis. Praise God it lasted no longer than a typical bout of flu, or I would have died of dehydration.

No offense, Grace and Iguana. I blame myself for overreacting. I'm sure I couldn't plan a wedding, either.

As of yesterday, I have a solid cover idea to pursue. I may need to snap some pics of my own to make it work, but I'll do it.

Rick Copple shared an interesting (to me) post about how indie authors shoot themselves in the foot when it comes to cover design. I don't know who Dean Wesley Smith is, but he makes some sense, so I'm taking his advice seriously, including the part about using a different name.

Daughter of Anasca is YA. I deliberately kept it at a PG rating. I had no such restraints in Star of Justice because I wrote it for adults. Younger people read it at their own risk (not that I wrote anything you couldn't see on basic cable after 5 PM). The blog author, Dean Wesley Smith, points out that folks who like one of my books may be startled or turned off by reading something of mine in a different style or genre. Worse, a younger reader may like Daughter of Anasca and pick up Star of Justice or its potentially rougher sequels (once they're written) and freak out the parents.

I don't like the idea of a pen name, but I am thinking of using initials: R.C. Tolbert. That, plus a different cover style, which must happen because I don't have the same skill as Newsome Creative, will help differentiate my YA from my adult. Of course, since I'm thinking of publishing as Graveyard Publications, I don't know why I'm bothering to differentiate anything. You read the Turtle, you get the Turtle, guts and all.

Happy Tuesday, dear readers. Enjoy the weather. It won't last.

That Money Thing

I recently took a walk on the dreamy side imagining life where money isn't an issue. Came home this weekend.

I took the holiday to build that shelter for my blueberry plants in The Swamp. I had planned, measured, sketched and calculated until I was certain I couldn't fail. On the DIY scale, this was a 1. I bought materials and went at it.

Well, it's done, but in the process I made three trips to the hardware store, failed to anticipate the effect of the PVC elbows on the overall dimensions, and even though I thought I'd left plenty of overage, underestimated the amount of fabric I needed for the shade. So much so that I will need to make a new one that takes into account the southern exposure. In short, I made mistakes. Lots of them.

Mistakes happen. I'm not going to kill myself because my blueberry shelter isn't perfect. What I have figured out as an adult is that certain mistakes cost money. Sometimes a lot of money. If I'm not willing or able to deal with losing money to mistakes, I won't take the risks.

This is why I stopped drawing. Somewhere in college I subconsciously did the math of supplies + time = massive waste unless I'm selling or gifting the stuff, and I did neither. I can't afford piles of artwork lying around or boxes of pens and brushes that don't pay for themselves. Therefore, I don't create art (It was so simple when the folks paid for everything).

It's sad, and kinda pathetic, but there it is. I don't try more things because I can't afford the inevitable mistakes. I want that loft bed with desk, but after this weekend and my 1 that turned -1, I don't know that I can afford it. Back to the calculator.

Happy Monday, dear readers. Take your risks, if you can afford them.

If Money Weren't An Issue

Would my life be different if money weren't an issue? I wouldn't have to be as rich as the Queen or Col. Sanders, but, you know, wealthy enough to not have that immediate dollar-shaped "stop" sign when an idea pops into my head.

1) I'd still work. I enjoy work, and I'd enjoy it a lot if I didn't have to think about how cheap my special brand of enthusiastic slave labor is. I might not work 40 hours a week, but I probably would. I get oddly upset on extended weekends.

2) I'd have a similarly sized house. Maybe a little bigger (900-1200 square feet) but nothing huge. Even the plot wouldn't be outrageous. Maybe an acre or three. Enough that my nearest neighbor can't hear my toilet flushing. I would have a different house, though, an Earthship with a cistern and solar power. Maybe some of those solar freakin' roadway panels. I could pay workmen to do stuff, so I'd have lots of built-ins, catwalks, a solarium and an atrium. Skylights would be nice. And rounded edges instead of square. Oooh, and one of those endless pool things. Those look neat.

3) I'd buy used cars. I might splurge on a work truck as a second vehicle, but it would be used. Through a dealer. I learned that lesson.

4) I'd have more cats. OK, maybe not more, but the current ones would have the best of everything. I could afford the exploratory surgery I suspect Skuttle needs because I have back-seat diagnosed her with some kind of colon issue after reading a Catnip article. I could leave food out for everybody instead of the current four feedings a day because I could afford every cat eating the same prescription cat food all the time.

5) I'd help more friends. I have so many people I wish I could slip a $100 or $500 just because they could use it. Or a $20,000 investment in a good idea (like solar freakin' roadways). They're trying so hard, but life doesn't always respect effort. It would be nice to be the generous friend. I mean, I buy a coffee now and then, but it's not the same.

6) I could support more causes. I give currently (more than 99% of Americans, apparently), but I wish I could give more to more. I have three charities I regularly support, but I wish it were five or six. I bet I could find a few more if money weren't an issue.

7) I would never get upset over money again. I hate worrying about money. It's a family habit, but when I think I won't have enough to cover whatever needs covering, I get very upset. More upset than need be, considering I'm a person who learned this year (through testimony, not experience) that utility bills come in different colors depending on how late your payment is. I didn't even know a utility payment could be late (Hate me if you must. I'm a Princess Turtle, but I do pay my own way).

8) I'd go back to school. Not for a degree. I don't ever want to do that again. But I'd love to take some vo-tech classes on electrical wiring, or woodworking, or oil painting. Or Photoshop. Maybe welding. To have money to learn something just because I want to learn it? That would be awesome.

I find these musings following me around this year. They distract me while I'm driving. They follow me into my dreams. Is this a mid-life crisis? It's a little early.

Anyhoo, now that I've written it down, I should stop thinking about it. I bet you won't. How would your life be different?

My Best Advice

This is another post I should save for NAF, but I hate finding pics to go with topics.

Finish what you start writing. It's that simple.

I should have taken the time and energy 23 years ago to finish the stories I am trying to write today. I didn't have the discipline back then, but that would have been an excellent thing to practice, too.

When you're 19 years old, and you come up with a story idea, odds are it's going to be fairly simple. Doesn't mean it's bad. Just means it's not going to have the same kind of complexity that a writer with more life experiences can add (nothing like a job, a mortgage, and 8 mouths to feed to teach you about layers of conflict). Fewer characters. More direct, obvious plot ideas. A thick, black Sharpie line of a story. That's fine when you're 19 years old. You earn your million words of practice, so you may as well earn it finishing such ideas as jumping from idea to idea and only writing the "interesting" parts, which is what I did. That's why I have a bunch of story "fragments" I used to consider book-worthy.

Problem is, when a writer tries to take those 23 year old ideas and mold them into what she now considers "book-worthy," more often than not, they don't fit. There are some good ideas, and a dollop of passion or conflict, but she's learned that's not all that goes into a good book. They might make novellas. They might make fine short stories or chapters, but they aren't going to carry 100K words into the hearts of her fans. "A closet nerd takes an unexpected trip through time with a robot assassin" is a good elevator pitch, but if you don't have more than that to back it up, you're humped.

But what if you want your older self experience to make something great out of those old ideas? Well, good luck. I suspect if you finish them when you're young, you'll clear the way for bigger, better, more complex ideas that grow with you. Like Aslan. 

I have a lot of 23 year old story ideas, but those may not a book make. Dangling Justice is about that closet nerd, but my 19 year old self didn't know about Ah'rahk, or Caissa, or Rhami when she thought of that idea with the robot assassin. Now my 42 year old self has the job of turning a simple idea into something worth writing, and hopefully, worth reading.


Happy Thursday, dear readers.  Finish what you start writing. Words to live by.

Embrace the Angst

I should type this up for NAF, but I'm just too lazy.

I've railed for a while (two years?) about how hard writing is, how I don't know where the plot is going, how I have too many choices, blah, blah. "It's not like Star of Justice!" I whine. "Even with Elementals, I had a final scene." Boo hoo.

I want my writing process to be all clinical and rational and easily contained in my current schedule. I don't want to get obsessive, like with Star of Justice, or painful, like Elementals. I just want to sit down and write a nice, complicated, thought-provoking, rollicking ride of hilarity and bittersweet depth in an hour a day without any hitches or interruption of regularly scheduled programming.

That isn't too much to ask.

Except I don't think that's how it works for me. I think all my books will be therapy books. They will emerge from chaos, frustration and inconvenience. Creation is hard. Ask a mom in labor, if you can get that close without bodily harm.

It's like trying to garden without breaking a sweat. Rarely happens. Most times I come in looking like Sasquatch.



So I'm not going to fight it anymore. I will embrace the self-loathing, the false starts, the wrong turns and rewrites. I will stomp around and snarl at the cats. I will even stay up past 9 (gasp!) if the words start flowing at 8:30. Yeah, I might be snappy at work, but I'm back in the corner, so who cares? 

Have I resolved this before? I don't think so. This feels like a moment of clarity. Which is good, 'cause it may be the last I have for a while.

Happy Thursday, dear readers. May your day be as easy as you make it.