tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66779418912288999772024-03-05T09:11:31.099-05:00Me WavingEverything a blog should be...the issues, interests and inspirations of a disillusioned 30 somethingUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-89619845935469325092022-06-06T20:40:00.000-04:002022-06-06T20:40:47.668-04:00a reflection of a yearBeware the Ides of March was a common saying in our house and I am sure I was making a joke about in March of 2020 as we prepared to celebrate my nieces birthday which falls on the 15th. Schools were closed on that Friday the 13th for a workshop day and I was busy making my nieces favorite bread for her birthday celebration the next day. There was a feeling of impending doom as Covid cases were on the rise and everything felt tenuous and uneasy.<div><br></div><div>We would spend the next day celebrating my niece with kids running around and family. My parents talked about their trip to Flordia that they were planning on taking the next week. We ate lunch from a shared buffet and people made side comments about how nice it would be to have a week off from work. Several hours later we were celebrating the birthday of a dear friend and his family. Our kids sharing ice cream sundaes and barbecuing ribs. At 7pm we got the call. The schools would be closed for 2 weeks. An hour later I got an email that my office was closed for the next 4 weeks. </div><div><br></div><div>And so that warm day in March became the last day in a year that we gathered without concern.</div><div><br></div><div>A year later as we prepare to gather again for my nieces birthday, this time with just my brother and his family and my parents, who have been vaccinated, it is with both joy and continued worry. It has been a year of home schooling and working from home. Of time spent together as a family, canceled events and missing our friends. We still did so much, wearing masked, socially distanced, online. I want to say what we gained has outweighed what we lost. That the increased time as a family, board games, movie nights and magical visits from fairies and bunnies and Santa will be what we remember. </div><div><br></div><div>But I would be lying. Instead my kids have learned to wear masks, seen a country divided on what to do and listened to the school board for our district fight amongst themselves about what to do. They saw the worst in people more then they saw the best. And the new found anxiety of getting sick, of losing someone, of never being able to play sports again or return to the stage. And we did our best as the adults to safely guide them through the storm but we were drowning to. Overtaxed and overwhelmed. Struggling to maintain friendships, to get work completed while also teaching elementary school math. To figure out a new way to shop for groceries and navigating who, if anyone, should be allowed in our bubble.</div><div><br></div><div>I read an article when this all started that talked about how the adults get to chose how our kids will remember this time, and that is kind of true. But our kids are not unaware of what is happening around them. Will they grow up seeing more what divides us then connects us? Will they be fearful of the world? </div><div><br></div><div>I look back on this year and I can not remember how we made it through. But we did. But that was all we did. We made it through. </div><div><br></div>Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-51306275420678259282020-08-01T21:43:00.002-04:002020-08-01T21:43:18.989-04:00Marking What We Have MissedThe pandemic that has kept us isolated and nervous since mid-March shows no sign of slowing. And as time marches on I find myself worried less about virus and focused more on all the small things we aren't able to do this year. And worrying that we won't be able to do them next year either. And even though I work so hard to keep things normal for them, how will they remember this time? Will they remember the later bedtimes and board games and laughter? Or will it be the year that time stopped and all the things they loved to do got put on hold.<div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>No Easter with my parents where every year the bunny hides eggs and toys for all in attendance</li><li>No spring theater production with the kids holding puppets as ensemble cast members in Dr. Dolittle</li><li>No Ballet recital where my girl would spin her hair in a tight bun, her outfit colors of the ocean</li><li>No Field Day at school where I got to volunteer and watch the kids and their friends run amok in matching shirts</li><li>No baseball practice, long afternoons sitting on the sun with one of my closest friends while our boys run laps and practice catching fly balls</li><li>No baseball games on sun filled Saturday mornings where the girls play on the swings while the boys wait in the dugout and the parents talk lazily on the sidelines</li><li>No last day of school where I pick up the kids and we blare Schools Out for Summer while we drive past the line of teachers waving goodbye</li><li>No first day of summer where everyone sleeps in and the weather is usually crappy</li><li>No trip to the Jersey Shore where we would sleep in a fleabag motel right on the beach and eat fudge and cotton candy on the boardwalk until we felt sick</li><li>No Ballet camp where I would work from the hallway of the studio for a week while my daughter smiled non-stop for 3 hours a day</li><li>No football camp where the boys got used to their pads and ran laps trying to outrun their coaches</li><li>No summer theater show where Moana and The Jungle Book would have been staged</li><li>No football practice where the parents would park with their cars facing the field so they could turn their lights on when the sun fell below the tree line</li><li>No back to school shopping with my mother, going from store to store shopping for pants and dresses and underwear and sweatshirts and new shoes</li><li>No first day of school where we would race for the bus and then I would follow them in to gather with the other parents to watch the kids arrive off the busses</li><li>No Ballet and tap classes where I would watch my daughter dance and gossip with the other moms in the hall about schools and lice and in-law visits</li><li>No football games where I could cheer for my boy and his friends, watching him always find me in the stands after a big play</li><li>No fall theater show where I would work back stage, helping them with costume changes and being able to watch them shine</li></ul><div>and what is to come? How long will school be online? Will there be no birthday parties this fall? and what of Halloween? Will there be basketball? Will my in-laws be able to come up for Christmas? Will the Elf on the Shelf show up? </div></div><div><br /></div><div>With every decision we chose between the risk of the virus and the risk of holding our kids back. As the world begins to re-open, do we re-open with it? And how do we create a new normal? One that allows us to look back on this time not as a time when so much was missed, but as a time when something new was gained. Only time will answer that question, if only we knew how much more time we will have to wait.</div>Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-84639433003074329192020-02-14T09:44:00.002-05:002020-02-14T09:44:36.709-05:00Spring in Maine<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dairy queen will open soon<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the ice will melt from the trees <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and the streams will rush with life<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And dairy queen will open soon<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Clocks will jump forward<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We will pick ripe strawberries and blueberries<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We will buy seedlings full of hope at the farmers market<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And dairy queen will open soon<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The snow will melt to make way for green grass<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The birds will start to sing songs of redemption and rebirth<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The days will be longer<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bedtimes will be later<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And Dairy Queen will open soon<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We will have meaningful debates about the value of the last
week of school<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About which beach has the best sand<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About when we should go to Boston<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Longing for the days we will spend sitting in the back of a pickup
truck eating ice cream from Dairy Queen<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The perpetually grayness will fade into spring colors<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Blues, pinks, purples<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Easter bunnies and peeps<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We will hunt for chocolate eggs<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And eat lamb around a big table<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And we will say what we are thankful for<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And there is no doubt that one of us will say we are
thankful that Dairy Queen will open soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-70364538562206657252019-10-09T13:18:00.001-04:002019-10-09T13:18:05.054-04:00Today<p dir="ltr">I woke up today and you were still gone.   I got the kids breakfast and put them on the bus. An inconvenience and a luxury. A luxury to kiss them goodbye.  To have dinner in the crockpot ready when everyone gets home.  A luxury you will never have again.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I woke up today and you were still gone. I read somewhere that a sign of hope is setting your alarm to wake up in the morning.  And couldn't help imagining you setting your alarm Sunday night.  Preparing the house for another week ahead of school and work and kid activities.  Was it still going off when they found you?</p>
<p dir="ltr">I woke up today and you were still gone. I want to text you and ask you how I'm suppose to handle this because you are the person I would have normally texted.  And I know you would tell me to keep swimming. To "not trouble trouble".  So I sit in my office, emails coming in, meetings to attend. I have conversations at the bus stop and training dogs and the bike trails the town put in. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I woke up today and you were still gone. And if I am lucky enough to wake up tomorrow you will still be gone. And I will miss you in all the small moments. And years from now I  know if I am still lucky enough to keep waking up I will reach for phone to text you.  Because we were supposed to be old women together.  Because you were robbed of the luxury to tuck your kids in and watch them grow.  Because I was robbed of one of my best friends.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I woke up today and you were still gone.</p>
Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-67949819066377266722019-09-13T11:32:00.003-04:002019-09-13T11:32:43.902-04:00The day that was more then good enough<div dir="ltr">
I woke up on the first day of school and had time to straighten my hair so when I went to the schools boo hoo breakfast I wouldn't embarrass my kids. I got down stairs and made them fresh smoothies. My son complained his eye hurt it was a little puffy but not pink eye (I called the doctor to check). I made them lunches and made my daughter brush her hair.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
When we missed the bus (because a summer of no deadlines means no one noticed the kitchen clock had slowly lost 10 minutes) I didnt yell. I laughed and made the kids get out of the car and take first day of school photos. Then I got passed the bus (legally) and pulled into one of my sons best friends driveways. Everyone laughed when I told them what happened and the events were forever captured and published on social media.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I got to the school before the buses which means I got to see my son walk by me flashing the peace sign and earned one more hug from my daughter. Then I went to work. Sat in meetings, worried about my son's eye and waiting until it was the day was done. At 315 they called me from my mother's care laughing about the day, my sons eye was fine, they were off to get DQ to celebrate the first day of school.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I met my mom at my sons football practice at 6. His turquoise practice Jersey a stark contrast against the light green manicured lawn. His helmet and pads making him look like a little kid in his big brothers clothes. While my daughter ran around the parameter with a new friend her blond hair streaking like fire behind her in the setting sun.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I sat on a conference call for the last hour of practice and was able to get my sons helmet and pads off without needing to put down the phone and when the call switched to the car speakers (because hands free laws are important) my kids turned their voices to whispers.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
It was 8pm when we pulled in the driveway, I hung up the phone and finally asked them what I had been dying to know all day, how was school? </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
We tumbled in the door together, a pile of backpacks and sports equipment. I filled out what seemed like hundreds of pages of emergency contact, bus transportation, school lunch and internet privacy forms while my husband got the corn out of the boiling water. We ate dinner, open faced warm roast beef sandwiches made from last night's pot roast and corn from the farmers market. We talked about our days and laughed about what there was to laugh about. The kids took showers and at 915 my daughter was in bed curled up with her kitten and my son in bed curled up with a book and I took the dog out and spent 30 minutes on the porch with my husband watching the moon rise above the tree line and thinking that even though the day was far from perfect, it might be as perfect as we will ever get.</div>
Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-27931078875933725652018-03-28T13:52:00.001-04:002018-03-28T13:52:07.028-04:00What if<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkm39M44wSm4xZFENZwHQDUi8MSpdvCpVZdQ2KfhT0Mi3em5KYP1YzzY54fFc4BccRA_Is4Av912DejH37_9FvR9gnQSbLx9MVAC3a3XUulxK4WMfGYrwM-bIKiMXDOryHPgUDalA9JsY/s1600/20170104_095250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkm39M44wSm4xZFENZwHQDUi8MSpdvCpVZdQ2KfhT0Mi3em5KYP1YzzY54fFc4BccRA_Is4Av912DejH37_9FvR9gnQSbLx9MVAC3a3XUulxK4WMfGYrwM-bIKiMXDOryHPgUDalA9JsY/s200/20170104_095250.jpg" width="150" /></a>I know the girl I want to be. Do you want to hear about her? She is confident, kind and healthy. She wears the clothes she likes no matter what people think. She is brave and speaks her mind. She loves her body and is good to it. She has a tattoo that makes her smile. She enjoys every day, gives herself permission to fail and asks for help.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
It's easy at night when the house is quiet, and the moon has climbed high in the sky to make a list of promises for tomorrow. Of all the things I should do. Do yoga, drink water, pay bill's, work, dinner, kids, husband...each one with a million small bullets beneath them. Run, call my mother, baseball registration, don't eat the cookies. It's easy at night when the only thing between me and sleep are the list of what ifs that pound in my brain like squirrels on typewriters.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
What if baseball registration is full. What if they miss the bus. What if the bus is late and then I am late to my first meeting. What if I left the coffee pot on, the oven on, the crockpot on. What if I made the wrong call at work, what if my husband's contract isn't renewed. What if the house never sells, if someone gets sick. What if I get sick. What if the dog needs surgery. What if the cat doesn't come home. What if, what if...</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
What if tomorrow I woke up and decided that I am enough. That the extra pounds, the gray hairs, the bad habits, the fashion choices, are enough. What would happen then?</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-8647654499619109052016-12-31T21:17:00.002-05:002018-07-31T13:20:44.188-04:00Happy New Year?<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></blockquote>
I feel like I just wrote this post...or maybe it is that a year in my life has not yielded much change. 2016 was not easy and I don't know why. Everything felt hard, like I was moving through jello. Somehow no decision I made was easy...each one coming with what felt like consequences and then we spent the last 6 weeks of the year sick. All four of us...off and on..sick. Never all healthy at the same time. But there was good too...ballet recitals and first days of school, holidays and birthdays and Saturday night movies nights and pizza at Romeos. That is what I want to hold on to. Not the feeling that nothing I do is enough...<br />
<br />
So on to 2017. Tomorrow we kick off a new year. One that starts somewhat arbitrarily...and one that carries with it all the weight of the lost hopes and goals of the year before. My Facebook feed is already full of friends involved with MLMs telling all of us now is the time! 2017 can be your year! And in my house, the kids and husband, dog and cats are asleep, a Law and Order SVU marathon is on the TV and I have a paper to write. It does not feel like a "special" night. It did not occur to me to get a babysitter or let the kids stay up late to celebrate...<br />
<br />
2017 is going to the be the year of contraction. Pulling inward to have more time to spend on what matters and less time behind the computer screen. I am going to commit to less and finish what I commit to. And heck...while we are being unrealistic I am also going to lose that last 20 pounds, eat better and run 5 days a week,<br />
<br />
Happy New Year. May 2017 bring you most of what you want, and all of what you need.<br />
<br />
Meleena<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-17324809852256548132016-08-18T15:24:00.000-04:002016-09-01T12:19:52.089-04:00The milestones we don't reachWe celebrate anniversaries and birthdays. First steps and last days of school. Facebook even helps us to celebrate the longevity of friendships by prompting us to create a video montage of the pictures we have shared of each other. But there are few ways in the society to recognize the milestones we do not reach. The promotion we did not get. The children we didn't have. The marriage or relationship that did not go the distance.<br />
<br />
I hopped on to Facebook this morning to find out who had made a healthier breakfast for their kids then I had and who had already been to the gym and who had already gotten a bonus at work...because I prefer to feel bad about myself in the morning before my coffee has kicked in...and there halfway through my feed was a picture of my ex-husband. Facebook is recommending that we be friends. Today. On August 18th. A date that given my lack of caffeine I had not yet realized. But somewhere around 1pm I checked the big wall calendar in my office and realized the date. Did Facebook know that today would have been our 15th wedding anniversary? Is that how his picture and profile found its way into my news feed?<br />
<br />
Once I realized what today was I found myself needing to process it so I weighed my options. I could talk to my current husband about it (seems like a bad idea), I could email my ex (maybe the worst idea)I could call a friend (I may still do that), I could post something about on Facebook or Twitter or Instagram (I compromised on the blog). Because what can you say about the milestones you don't reach? It has been 7 years since my marriage ended. Since I separated myself from the man I had been with for 11 years and went off to build a life apart from us. Then to build a life with another man...one full of children and animals and laughter and arguments about the mortgage. And I don't think about the old life much anymore. But then I am reminded suddenly and completely of that life, that version of myself, that relationship. And I have this feeling in my gut that I have to rid myself of.<br />
<br />
15 years ago today I woke up to a sunny day with a slight breeze in Bethel, ME. My maid of honor was asleep next to me, my husband to be in the condo next door. We did not see each other before the ceremony, and I remember standing at the end of the aisle looking toward him and thinking that this was it. That I was looking at the rest of my life. And so I promised before my family and friends, and God I suppose if you believe he is present at these things, until death do us part. We ate steak and drank champagne and danced to a Radio Head cover of "Nobody Does it Better". And we made it 7 years. 5 of them good. So this was my pause in my day. My moment to give voice to the milestone that will not be achieved. To allow myself to feel sadness just for a moment. And then to move on and celebrate all the good that is here now. Happy failure to reach our 15th anniversary Matt. May your life be everything you wanted it to be. I know you wish the same for me.Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-33072599088519559212016-01-04T14:19:00.002-05:002016-01-11T14:47:20.016-05:00Nostalgia<div dir="ltr">
<div style="text-align: left;">
In one of the famous Mad Men episodes Don Draper tells us that in Greek nostalgia means pain from an old wound. It is a place "we ache to go again". Nostalgia has become a frequent theme not just in marketing campaigns but in entertainment, products and music. We are presented with remakes of movies, resurgence of toys and yes repeating ad campaigns...all of which are just copies of the original...lacking authenticity as well as originality. To be nostalgic for something we must first feel it's absence...long for it wistfully.</div>
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/suRDUFpsHus/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/suRDUFpsHus?feature=player_embedded" style="clear: right; float: right;" width="320"></iframe>So when Coke re-launched #shareacoke campaign this past summer, they were hoping to capture again what they had last summer....people searching through shelves to find the right name. That in opening a Coke you were not getting a beverage but a moment in time. A "place were you are loved". A reminder of a friend or lover or lost parent. It worked last year...so why not run it again? Add more names and hope that people are still holding on to that feeling of nostalgia. Except we are so inundated with it, so overwhelmed with it in advertising that it's hard to feel it anymore. We are all so busy tweeting out the picture of the can with our dog or ex spouses name on it that we don't feel the nostalgia.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Time for a new strategy...one that is forward looking, not backwards. One that speaks to where we are going, not where we have been. One that tells us it's OK to drink that coke...not guilt us into buying it. How can we be nostalgic if everything just repeats. ..a remake of Point Break, Full House, more Ninja Turtles and My Little Ponies, another aging icon espousing the virtues of Detroit. I'm not nostalgic for the old days and I don't want to think about my bro or best friend from high school when I drink a Coke. I want to be won over, convinced of the virtues of a product.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The thing that made Don Draper's character so amazing to watch was that he was able to not just see what was, but what was coming. As we fall head long into 2016 I find myself aching for the unknown. For what is coming around the turn ahead. And I am hopeful, as a marketer, an author and a teacher that this year it will be something new. Something worth aching to return to once it has past.</div>
Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-18426693795460930662015-12-30T16:29:00.000-05:002015-12-30T16:29:27.548-05:00ResolutionsI hate these things. Resolutions. I never stick to them. And I am never sure if, at the end of any given year, I am better off then I was when it started. But I am here and there are children growing bigger and smarter every day. And there are companies to run and work to do. And I am here. And when I look back, the one thing I am sure of is that every failure has brought me to this moment.<br />
<br />
A wise shrink once told me that aspiring to be happy is a useless pursuit. That happiness is an unsustainable state. But instead we should strive for contentment. Because in contentment we leave ourselves open to happiness. I like that. It feels attainable.<br />
<br />
And I am reminded, because I am here, that in addition to all of those failures there were also a lot of moments of bravery. Of deciding to jump. Because I knew what life looked like where I was and it was time. Time to do something different. And that it isn't just me that is here. That I didn't have to make those jumps alone. I have been lucky enough to have family, friends, a husband who have stood with me. And who have given me the confidence (and sometimes the push) I needed.<br />
<br />
So I resolve, not for 2016, but for as many years as I am lucky enough to still be here, to be proud of where I have been, excited about where I am going, and present enough to be open to the moments of happiness as they come.<br />
<br />
May 2016 bring you the peace that comes when you are content with your life and the courage you need to make changes.<br />
<br />
~Meleena<br />
<br />Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-66533192526896199602015-12-03T09:43:00.001-05:002015-12-03T09:43:10.826-05:00Little MomentsLife tracks back to the little moments. The ones when at the time you don't realize the ripple effects it will have for years to come. We celebrate our milestones, birthdays, anniversaries, holidays. Mark the passing of the years with Christmas Trees and birthday cakes. Count the grey hairs deciding just when it is time to buy a box of hair dye once reserved for teen rebellion.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We don't dwell on the missed phone calls, minor slights and coffee breaks. But if we track back the course of our lives we will find it is those little moments that set the course. And it impossible mostly to recognize them when they come. To be able to see where they will take us. Because our memories are flawed it is hard to look back on them with accuracy. We forget the details. And maybe that is for the best.</div>
Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-4844000416895669582015-11-06T16:57:00.002-05:002015-11-06T16:57:46.219-05:00Accomplishments and FearMy second book was published a few weeks ago now. <a href="http://amzn.to/1PGvu9E" target="_blank">North of Boston</a>, originally titled "I can't come to the phone right now" after my blog is a book of short stories. That is the simple description. But it is more then that. It is a book of dreams and moments. Nightmares and might have beens. I used my friend's Facebook status updates to inspire my writing every day for nearly a year. And what I found, in myself, was that I need to write. If I don't something eats at my insides.<br />
<br />
When my first book came out it was easy to distance myself from it...I wrote it years ago, it was fiction and so even if a character here or there was loosely based on someone no one would ever know. But North of Boston is something else entirely. And so with the accomplishment of having had it accepted for publication, came the fear that somehow I would be found out. What if my father-in-law recognized himself in a story and didn't like it? What if my best friend from my youth assumed something was about her? What if my husband (or ex-husband) didn't like what I had written?<br />
<br />
When you write, fiction or otherwise, you put a piece of yourself on paper. And when you publish you take that piece of paper and share it with everyone you know, and the people you don't. North of Boston isn't just a book of short stories. It is a collection of snapshots of a life, some real and some imagined. All viewed in the moment, without the perspective of past or future events. Without the hope that things might get better on the next page.Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-35961790598738448732015-04-16T00:14:00.002-04:002015-04-16T00:14:35.038-04:00BirthdaysBirthdays are an interesting thing as you get older. They become a place of reflection, of considering what one has accomplished, of what one has failed at. It can cause us to take a closer look at how we spend our time...to review just how much we have wasted in anger and regret, stuck in traffic and behind a desk. How many first days of schools and little league games have been overlooked. I spent time today trying to remember as many of my birthdays as I could and found that most are at best vague recollections and at worst completely absent from my memory.<br />
<br />
I remember turning 4 and my mother finding chicken pox on me the day of my party and having to have it canceled.<br />
<br />
I remember the year I turned 9 and my Hawaiian themed party was almost canceled because of the foot of snow that fell over night.<br />
<br />
I remember the year I turned 17 and my mother dragged me up to a ski resort so my brother could snowboard.<br />
<br />
I remember going to dinner at Rialto in Harvard Square when I turned 21 and drinking Bailey's on the rocks.<br />
<br />
I remember turning 24 in Maycomb, Illinois and my students bought me a grocery store cake tat we ate with our hands in a hotel room.<br />
<br />
I remember turning 30 perfectly. Because everything I had planned for my life was laying in shambles at my feet. Grilled cheese and tomatoes soup for lunch. An early dinner at Mooo. Gifts so impersonal they could have been for anyone.<br />
<br />
I remember turning 31 in New Orleans and eating Domino's for lunch with co-workers and the cake my husband had my nickname written on.<br />
<br />
I remember turning 35 while on a business trip in Boston and the kindness of my co-workers.<br />
<br />
So many gaps. So many years that have blended together. Do I dare say this will be the year that I try to slow down, live in the moment, taste my coffee, close my laptop? Maybe I should start now.Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-38247156169119848502015-02-11T12:11:00.003-05:002015-02-11T12:11:58.822-05:00Late Night TV Marketing Fail: Vermont Teddy Bear and Law and OrderI pulled an all nighter a few nights ago...not because I had some crazy work deadline or was working on finishing my second novel...I was trying to finish the Valentine gift my son had requested for his classmates. And I had really underestimated how long it was going to take. <br />
<br />
After mid-night TV gets weird. And I was happy to find a Law and Order marathon to have on the background while I crocheted until my fingers cramped up. My learning from that night is not how many stuffed giraffes I can make in a 12 hour period (the answer is 11), but that there are few companies willing to advertise that late. Between midnight and 6am I must have seen 20 ads for <a href="http://www.ispot.tv/ad/7xxl/vermont-teddy-bear-this-valentines-day" target="_blank">Vermont Teddy Bears 4 foot tall bear</a>. Also advertising was a company wanting to help me sign up for health care, a company who wanted my husband to buy me roses and Sherries Berries who successfully convinced me I would never want to be friends with a couple who purchased from them.<br />
<br />
Except for the health care company who was gender neutral in their ads, everyone else was targeting men. And not subtly. Watch the Vermont Teddy Bear ad (link above) and see what I mean...these were ads that were not meant to appeal to me as a women at all. As a marketer I am intrigued by these types of ads so I did a quick Google search to find out who exactly watches Law and Order...and the whole first page of results came back with articles about how much WOMEN watch the show. And not just the show that runs new episodes, but the re-runs that TNT plays, and that I was watching. If you visit the TNT <a href="http://www.comcastspotlight.com/network/tnt" target="_blank">viewer profile </a>more women watch then men. This makes me question the companies running ads...did they do their research? By excluding an entire gender from their ads they no doubt lost business...Vermont Teddy Bear could have just as easily created that ad to be geared towards both genders, or parents, since the only person I know that wants a 4 foot bear is my 3 year old. And who knows...if they had done that, they probably would have made a 3am sale to me.Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-25457351381462785442015-01-07T11:37:00.001-05:002015-02-23T14:41:49.002-05:00Share a Coke with...Reflections of a Viral Campaign<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqBtbO9eutcKk-FrfouGyirEK_SlgHM74IHwLxFO8dOXgjeXnt_9HBrKZL14OxSWCgtylm-INceMV5YO4fVaU1p5wTxfNBMQmqHWgWTDHAvGLKzu2hMxnIWQelpEf7X1xn7hwxoaQ138/s1600/Coke+cans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqBtbO9eutcKk-FrfouGyirEK_SlgHM74IHwLxFO8dOXgjeXnt_9HBrKZL14OxSWCgtylm-INceMV5YO4fVaU1p5wTxfNBMQmqHWgWTDHAvGLKzu2hMxnIWQelpEf7X1xn7hwxoaQ138/s200/Coke+cans.jpg" width="171" /></a></div>
I am a marketer by trade. And most days I will tell you by passion as well. I appreciate good advertising, applaud promotions that actually get me into a store and have no problem completing surveys and answering questions because I understand the underlying goal. This makes me a boring dinner date.<br />
<br />
I am also brand loyal. To a fault. When I like a company or product I don't even consider the alternatives and when I don't, well no promotion will get me in the door. I have been drinking Coke, Diet Coke and now Coke Zero since I was in utero. I am the horrible person in the restaurant who when asked "Is Pepsi OK?" I say no and order something else. For years Coke has been my go to brand, without hesitation. <br />
<br />
Until this past summer...<br />
<br />
You see, I didn't want to share a Coke with my BFF or a wingman. I didn't want to think about what my high school boyfriend Zack is doing or my nemesis from elementary school Anna has going on these days. If I want to be reminded of my past I will visit Facebook on #TBT. I just want to drink a Coke Zero. In peace. No memories of people, no reminders that I don't have more friends, no suggestions for who I should interact with today. I have actually stood in convenient stores looking through the Coke bottles to find one with a name or reference that did not conjure a memory.<br />
<br />
From a marketing standpoint this campaign was genius. Lots of opportunity for viral advertising, lots of images posted, connections created between consumer and product...from a marketing perspective they did everything right and then some. But for me, for the person, not the marketer, my loyalty eroded with every suggestion that I should share a Coke with a legend, with Jared, with Samantha. And I know I am not the only one who felt that way...Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-87532822515707307072014-12-09T22:20:00.001-05:002015-02-23T14:44:18.352-05:00The making of a snowflakeThere are things in our lives that we don't need to know. Because in knowing them it can change the very lens through which we see the world. I happened upon a detail today about how snowflakes were formed. Turns out I had been missing an important piece of the formula. From the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association:<br />
<br />
"A snowflake begins to form when an extremely cold water droplet freezes onto a pollen or dust particle in the sky." (http://www.noaa.gov/features/02_monitoring/snowflakes_2013.html)<br />
<br />
So what? You may at first glance think yeah that makes sense. But really think about what that means...when your lawn is blanketed in a bed of white snow, really it is blanketed in a bed of dust. And what is dust? It is particles from roads, pollen, human skin, animal hair, pollution. It is everywhere and I prefer to not normally think about it.<br />
<br />
But now I have two inches of snow...two inches of "dust" on my front lawn...and those tiny white specs falling from the sky are not really something you want to catch on your tongue. The upside to this discovery is that it at least fits with my world view. That, like most things, when you dig into their core, they are rotten.Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-9094480638296463252014-11-25T15:46:00.000-05:002014-11-25T15:46:11.401-05:00EllipsesThe word is from Ancient Greek and means "falling short". I think of it as those three periods that I can use to create run-on sentences at will. But I like its original meaning...that by using them, I am letting you the reader know that this sentence is going to fall short. That something is going to be omitted, or left out or left up to you.<br /><br /> I feel my life as a parent is an ellipses. Like I am constantly trying to play catch-up over falling short in some way. That while I am at work I am slowly being omitted from my children's lives...replaced by the real life version of three periods in a row.Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-18299260794638601432014-11-10T13:35:00.000-05:002015-02-23T15:11:09.130-05:00For you little girl<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJG0YFNgewp2TO0Klt39mXaRBnP8y-IveFDz69H94nvNi4pyOFHRA7xBH9MTSMLalYLmmlHXzaiUxJDruQ5eGBDOleNKxDD5hebMoiwkwziKAtROSceUlkvCrLB1SZVACyh4H4k0AWHrc/s1600/Sophia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJG0YFNgewp2TO0Klt39mXaRBnP8y-IveFDz69H94nvNi4pyOFHRA7xBH9MTSMLalYLmmlHXzaiUxJDruQ5eGBDOleNKxDD5hebMoiwkwziKAtROSceUlkvCrLB1SZVACyh4H4k0AWHrc/s200/Sophia.jpg" height="200" width="112" /></a>I thought my destiny was a house full of boys. I imagined a mud room full of sports equipment and rooms cluttered with sports magazines and dirty cloths. I imagined a loud, messy house with lots of laundry and snack food. But that all changed when my daughter was born. A tiny little strawberry blond (who am I kidding, mostly bald) girl. She was a surprise and came into our family during one of our hardest times. It always felt like she knew that and so she took it easy on me. Instead of being what I thought a daughter would be, she was the light that pulled us through.<br />
<br />
Her blond hair fits in pigtails now and she is the total boss of her older brother. She is the girl I never thought I wanted and I couldn't imagine being <br />
without. Here are my lessons and hopes for her...<br />
<br />
1. You will probably never be happy with your hair<br />
<br />
No matter if is straight or curly or thick or thin or short or long, red, blond or brown. It may always bother you. I promise to help you embrace what you have and also to teach you how to use curlers, straightening irons and blow dryers. And I won't get mad no matter how you cut it, or what color you dye it.<br />
<br />
2. It's a man's world<br />
<br />
Sorry princess but it is. And the best advice I have to to not play their game. Even though you grew up with a stay at home dad and have been surrounded by strong women who have followed and achieved their dreams, you will make less than your brother because you are a girl. You will be held to a different standard. So embrace the gloriousness that is you...and make your own rules.<br />
<br />
3. You don't need to "live up to your potential"<br />
<br />
You can exceed it. Or not. It's up to you. Don't listen to the teachers who tell you "you aren't trying hard enough." Don't succumb to peer pressure and think it's cool not to get good grades. If you follow your dreams, you'll find them coming true. Except when they don't...and when that happens...see number 11.<br />
<br />
4. Don't be an idiot<br />
<br />
Try to make decisions that won't get you into trouble...I would say avoid getting pregnant until you are ready, don't get arrested for doing drugs or driving under the influence, and because you are three now, try not to eat any batteries. That gives you a lot of ground. If you want to have sex, tell me. I won't ask questions and I don't want to hear the details, but I will make sure you go to the doctor and talk to them about birth control. If you decide to try drugs or drink don't do it on school property and don't get in a car. If you decide to eat a battery...well I'm just going to take it away from you.<br />
<br />
5. You are smart + clever + kind + thoughtful + patient...<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQsBtE7cSiEgWB1SS8h9hpS607aLFmSs9G_Gp31dTWVzMmcibao4OdfExpHWZXpwmjg9bgOt_ifWI_-6wgv11LmPsEEzYUF5EvGAOfXFKr7GqoPqYV8qXs7Fiq4Oqqyo0sujPy_qK_hd4/s1600/sophia+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQsBtE7cSiEgWB1SS8h9hpS607aLFmSs9G_Gp31dTWVzMmcibao4OdfExpHWZXpwmjg9bgOt_ifWI_-6wgv11LmPsEEzYUF5EvGAOfXFKr7GqoPqYV8qXs7Fiq4Oqqyo0sujPy_qK_hd4/s200/sophia+2.jpg" height="200" width="112" /></a>You are so much more than beautiful. Your generosity and kindness radiate from you. You are more patient with me than I deserve. Yes, you are also beautiful. But you are more than that and I will spend as much time as I can reminding you of that. We spend too much time telling our girls they are beautiful and our boys they are smart. Don't ever forget no matter how beautiful you become that doesn't define you. Just like how old you were when you started talking doesn't, or your reputation in high school doesn't. You will always be more than one word, even if that one word is a good one.<br />
<br />
6. Be your own princess<br />
<br />
A princess doesn't have to wait around for her prince or take the passive road through life. Even Disney is on-board with this now (mostly). Being a princess means you value yourself above all else. That you treat yourself well. But it is more than how you feel about yourself...it is how you treat others. A princess is kind and thoughtful to others. A princess doesn't judge those who are different from her and seeks to be good to everyone (even though you won't always be and that's OK). <br />
<br />
7. I hope you fail<br />
<br />
Not at the big things of course, but at a few small things along the way. While success is awesome and aspirational we learn a lot more from our failures than our successes. It is through failure that we find our strength and re-examine ourselves. My fear is that failure will break you. It becomes all to easy to use failure as an excuse to put our dreams aside for the safe, but less fulfilling path.<br />
<br />
I promise to always encourage you and remind you of your dreams. To help you reach them and to be here when/if you don't. Failure should never define you...<br />
<br />
8. You are wicked cool<br />
<a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=41d13e6e57&view=fimg&th=1499af59fe753964&attid=0.1&disp=inline&realattid=1484410343076659200-local0&safe=1&attbid=ANGjdJ-rRr4doLLZ8xBpRuZgIbAKwkL3SuR8Kj7PPJnK50D77h3rQhMMrbYr-iDskVeKHXhHpPvW_RD8U6WL5svo4Pu0LWctHs0aJ7dQ38ALzC9xNPag1yisRwGsh3c&ats=1415644046034&rm=1499af59fe753964&zw&sz=w1031-h463" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Displaying 20141025_143849.jpg" border="0" height="200" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=41d13e6e57&view=fimg&th=1499af59fe753964&attid=0.1&disp=inline&realattid=1484410343076659200-local0&safe=1&attbid=ANGjdJ-rRr4doLLZ8xBpRuZgIbAKwkL3SuR8Kj7PPJnK50D77h3rQhMMrbYr-iDskVeKHXhHpPvW_RD8U6WL5svo4Pu0LWctHs0aJ7dQ38ALzC9xNPag1yisRwGsh3c&ats=1415644046034&rm=1499af59fe753964&zw&sz=w1031-h463" width="112" /></a><br />
<br />
It doesn't matter how much others love you. One of the secrets to a happy life is to love who you are, what you stand for and what you do. This is not as easy as it sounds for some. I promise to remind you of how cool you are. How amazing you are. How you are and have always been my light. But you will have to feel that on the inside...and that my girl is something only you can do.<br />
<br />
9. It's your body<br />
<br />
...and you only get one. This means think twice about what you do to it. That means boys and girls. It means tattoos and piercings and drugs. You're smart and I trust your judgment. The tattoo you get when you're 18 won't bother me...neither will the nose ring...or dating a lot of guys or girls. But what I want to make sure is that you respect yourself enough to make decisions that make you feel good about yourself. I promise to try and model that behavior...and to never judge you...and to love you...no matter what.<br />
<br />
10. Don't compromise on your dreams<br />
<br />
Write and dream and paint and pretend acorn tops are fairy hats and the cat is magic. Your youth and your life are more valuable than to be spent behind a desk. Do something you love and when you find someone you love don't ever compromise your dreams for theirs.<br />
<br />
11. Welcome Home!<br />
<br />
You can always come home. For breaks from school, for dinner, for the holidays, to stay awhile if life has thrown you a curve ball. That's what family is. It means always having a place where people love you no matter what. And who will always be excited to see you. I promise to always have a place for you, because little girl I was your first home. And I figure that is the least I can do.<br />
<br />
I love you Fia girl...<br />
<br />
Mom<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-33931643685015667452014-04-14T11:05:00.002-04:002015-03-06T20:41:03.473-05:00Villains and Frozen spoilers...Writing villains is always a challenge for me. I walk the line between creating a character who is so hated that they are one sided and shallow or so wishy-washy that you are never really sure if they are bad, or just confused. I was watching Frozen for the hundredth time (ah kids...) and it occurred to me that Frozen suffers from a similar problem. Unlike previous movies where step-mothers transformed into dragons or tricked their daughters into taking poison or locking themselves in a tower, this movie is missing a true villain.<br />
<br />
Sure, sure that Hans guy is evil...except he also kept the people of the town safe while the princess and the queen battled it out in the mountains. Did he have an ulterior motive? Sure! But does that make him evil? Does he try to kill the queen in the end? Well yeah, so maybe that does make him the bad guy...And what about Elsa...she doesn't seem to have intent behind her actions but all that means is the court would get her for manslaughter instead of first degree murder if Ana had stayed frozen. Is that evil? Does freezing your home town and then running off the mountains and refusing to fix the problem make a you a villain? And then there is the little guy from Weisledon. He outright says he wants to exploit the country's resources and certainly seems to be behind the plot to kill the queen...yet he never evokes enough anything to be feared.<br />
<br />
So what is the larger implication of this? I know the first time I watched Frozen I walked away feeling disappointed. Was it because for the first time the hero didn't save the princess? That true loves kiss was not the answer to thaw a broken heart? Or was it because without someone to root against how do we know who to root for?<br />
<br />
Life is made up of shades of gray...do we want our movies and literature to mimic this? Or to provide us with the black and white, cut and dry world of good and evil? Where things may not always work out, but its usually because there is a sequel in the works...Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-52823943000287120662014-02-14T04:30:00.000-05:002014-02-14T04:30:02.720-05:00Conversation Hearts and Rape CultureSo since quitting smoking my biggest vice is seasonal candy. You can find it in my house year round...Candy Corn in March, Mint MnM's in August and Conversation Hearts in September. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCg1uOMup0DEfKsd4el8HjC8ZEVu9YR4NV_YqAZfVqyshrr_kPuo8tuZ7WLN7iVlypiAiV8hzlycFlRLRX_c9Q1MZfjWYqsy4GdRj8lzVuSQZ7Mmgd46QqVdJADXhzFDj_PCTjLQSrlo/s1600/dont+tell+heart.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCg1uOMup0DEfKsd4el8HjC8ZEVu9YR4NV_YqAZfVqyshrr_kPuo8tuZ7WLN7iVlypiAiV8hzlycFlRLRX_c9Q1MZfjWYqsy4GdRj8lzVuSQZ7Mmgd46QqVdJADXhzFDj_PCTjLQSrlo/s1600/dont+tell+heart.png" /></a>I don't buy Conversation Hearts for their clever sayings. But I do only eat certain colors (I know OCD right), so I like to separate out the greens and oranges and throw them away when I first open the bag. This year in doing that, I noticed a "don't tell" heart in the bags. I know it is not new this year and have found references made to this phrase back to 2006. <br />
<br />
Now, perhaps I just watch too much Law and Order SUV but it seems to me that this messaging, done in this way, is just another tool to condition people to rape culture. Where secrets are kept, victims suffer in silence and their abusers (sometimes) don't even realize they committed a crime. In a society where, more than ever, the line between no and yes seems to be blurred by the media, celebrities, government and the courts, it seems like we need to demand more, even from our candy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-48205824448832049372014-01-28T09:00:00.000-05:002014-01-28T09:00:04.125-05:00Should your ending be happy?There is always discussion about happy endings in literature. Readers have distinct opinions about what they want to happen with the characters they have become attached to...and writers have equally strong opinions about what should happen to their characters. So how should you decide if your protagonist should get happily ever after, devastation and loss or something in between? <br />
<br />
Here are three things to consider when you are working on your ending...<br />
<br />
1. What genre are you writing in? Readers of certain genres have expectations about story endings...the Romance genre for example tends toward having happy endings for their heroines. Not always of course, but readers tend to expect it. You should know which genre(s) you are writing in and take into consideration the trends of that genre.<br />
<br />
2. What is authentic for your protagonist? Is your main character someone who has been down on their luck the whole book, nothing going right, forces aligning against them? If so would a happy ending fit with your book? Is it believable that someone who has had bad stuff happen for 200 pages suddenly gets it all right? Maybe...but it would be a hard sell.<br />
<br />
3. What is authentic for your the author? Your writing style and approach play into this question as well. Can you write happiness in a believable way? What about unhappiness? You need to be true to yourself (as well as your character) in order for readers to find you authentic.<br />
<br />
If your approach to your ending is thoughtful and in line with your genre, your character and yourself you will find that happy or not, readers will respond to it.<br />
<br />
Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-80119897424111774772014-01-22T10:37:00.002-05:002014-01-22T10:37:36.174-05:00The Power of a First LineI have long wanted to write a book made up only of first lines for other books. To me writing the first line is the best part of writing. Often even if I have a story written in my head I can not put words to paper until I have come up with that first line.<br />
<br />
Your first line is your best opportunity to draw in a reader. It is your chance to hook them. One sentence. Just a few words...and it can make the difference between someone pouring through your book and not making it past the first few pages. So what makes a good first line? Here are a few approaches...<br />
<br />
<strong><em>Set the scene</em></strong><br />
<br />
"It was a dark and stormy night." While now cliché this first line tells us something...and not just that it is night time. From this line we get a sense of unease, of foreboding. That something is not right in this world.<br />
<br />
<strong><em>Introduce a character</em></strong><br />
<br />
"The day I was born had one thing in common with ever other bad day I had, it rained." The line, from The Day the Rain Came seeks to introduce you to the main character. From this line you can infer a lot about her...she has a dark sense of humor, she hates the rain, she probably hates herself. <br />
<br />
<strong><em>Give it all away</em></strong><br />
<br />
Sometimes a first line tells us exactly where we are going before we get there. "I only ever killed Jacob Barnaby because of the cat." Using this type of first line starts us in the middle, or sometimes even the end of a story. Sometimes this tells the reader that we are going to be jumping around in time. Or that knowing this piece of information will be crucial to understanding the larger story. <br />
<br />
And there are many more approaches to writing great first lines...but whatever approach you take remember that your first line is the readers first chance to interact with your characters. So make it count!Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-89490288701986105642014-01-21T11:37:00.007-05:002014-01-21T11:37:58.716-05:003 Myths About Writing a NovelIt is said so often people joke about it..."I'm just going to quit my job and write a novel." And with the changes in publishing, the rise of the e-book and the increasing validity of self-publishing pretty much anyone can write, and publish their work. This is amazing...but just because you can do it doesn't mean it will be easy...so let's debunk the top 3 myths about writing your first novel:<br />
<br />
Myth 1: I have a great story in my head all I need is the time to write it down<br />
<br />
You may have a great story in your head. But writing a novel is a lot more than that. It is the dedication to write every day, to re-write and delete. It is going through the process of editing and formatting and designing. A great story does not a great novel make...so if you have a great story, start writing, but that is only step 1 in the process.<br />
<br />
Myth 2: Writing is easy<br />
<br />
Anyone who has tried to write a novel knows this is not true. Even if writing is easy, writing a novel is not. Even when the content flows easily and your story is engaging it is still work. It still requires discipline and thoughtfulness. You need to create characters who come alive on the pages, who your readers invest in. You need to avoid the types of mistakes that disconnect a reader form the story...mistakes about time and place for example. You need to consider who you are writing for...this will inform the types of words you use or references you make.<br />
<br />
Myth 3: I can do everything myself...I don't need an designer, proofreader, publisher<br />
<br />
You are right you can. But that doesn't mean you should. This is where your friends and colleagues can help you...you don't need to spend thousands for a professionally designed cover but you should talk to the guy you get coffee with sometimes you designs websites for a living and see if he can help you. You don't need a proofreader, but you should ask your friend who always remembers which "there" to use if she would read it over and mark it up for you. You don't need a publisher, but you will need to learn about formatting for the different platforms you can self-publish on and you will need to think about how you will market and promote your book once it is done.<br />
<br />
Writing a novel isn't as glamorous as it sounds...but it is rewarding and it is doable. Just make sure you think the whole process through...that way your final book will be something you are proud of.<br />
<br />
So where do you start? Wherever you want...write a character sketch, start at the beginning, start at the end, draw out a timeline or create a family tree. And then do something every day. Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-67625945506934824162014-01-13T10:34:00.002-05:002014-01-13T10:34:44.750-05:00Facing Failure: When the Play Dough Container Won't OpenYesterday my daughter "failed" to be able to take off the cover to the play dough container. In some ways it is hard to call this a failure because she is two and those containers are tough. But it is a failure none the less. On a small scale for sure, but she got frustrated, didn't want her brothers help and finally abandoned the Play Dough all together and did something else. It seemed to me almost like a microcosm of what happens on a larger scale all the time. We try something, the result is not what we like, or expect and we abandon it for something else. And we give it a "nasty" word.<br />
<br />
<em>You failed to get the promotion. You didn't succeed in getting to spend more time with your family.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>You failed at your marriage. You didn't succeed in leaving someone who never made you happy.</em><br />
<br />
We celebrate our successes and hide our failures and this takes so much work. And is counter productive. In a recent study on failure conducted by ES Communications they asked respondents about their experiences with failure. <br />
<br />
The first two things that jumped out at me was that when asked if failure was a private thing 2/3 of respondents said no. Individuals perceive that their failures will be public knowledge. This fact along plays a large role in how people feel about failure. Since we feel it will become public we are forced not just to think about the failure but also how we will handle how other people in our life will handle the failure.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPbzz5iA4_sCqtw32mVWyKi_ZeYt1dJDbj7PCvAQLPJwB1l_5rZetdeTHnMbhM7QKug77eiPZumjU_TgRVu4tg4IFuNHxVWfNDCv7752XDNFcGEwHZPG1hJibHvJ4PS6JuJC1SY1zVuOU/s1600/Failure+private.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPbzz5iA4_sCqtw32mVWyKi_ZeYt1dJDbj7PCvAQLPJwB1l_5rZetdeTHnMbhM7QKug77eiPZumjU_TgRVu4tg4IFuNHxVWfNDCv7752XDNFcGEwHZPG1hJibHvJ4PS6JuJC1SY1zVuOU/s320/Failure+private.png" width="320" /></a></div>
The second area of interest was around the areas of our lives where people feel they experience failure. At the top of that list is friendships. Followed by work and then failure with our significant other/spouse. When we think about these results the first thing that comes to mind is that our self-reporting is flawed. We feel the worst about our interpersonal failures and so we report on them as being more prevalent then they are.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrmGhioXfvcOUSDhZZJUoCBuPu5Igj52if3LUAgLHN8o5VMcBDycd1xcxf0tiy9-Ox8UzxVk-a0up9w8QUIQsE-R1p6ZEJvs4eilqQf6WolPJmR0356JV6j9QotK4twI7oom6Q9a22jQ/s1600/where+we+fail.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrmGhioXfvcOUSDhZZJUoCBuPu5Igj52if3LUAgLHN8o5VMcBDycd1xcxf0tiy9-Ox8UzxVk-a0up9w8QUIQsE-R1p6ZEJvs4eilqQf6WolPJmR0356JV6j9QotK4twI7oom6Q9a22jQ/s320/where+we+fail.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Failure isn't easy. From the moment we realize we can't open the Play Dough container ourselves to our inability to make up with a friend to feeling like we can't buy someone the gift we want because we don't have the money. All feed our desire to succeed and our need to be praised and recognized for something good. What if we could turn it all around. Change our thinking about what it means to fail...could it become something positive?</div>
Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677941891228899977.post-42626121779201490222014-01-04T19:06:00.002-05:002014-01-04T19:06:55.179-05:00It's not an Autobiography...So <a href="http://amzn.to/JpCA3h" target="_blank">The Day the Rain Came</a> was published about a week ago. I wrote it almost 20 years ago. It is the real voice of a 15 year old girl...but it is fiction. It is not my story. <br />
<br />
The main character is dear to my heart...like an old friend I haven't seen in a while but who I would like to find on Facebook. I put her through a lot...took a lot from her...and left her with less then she started with. She has my voice, but she is not me.<br />
<br />
The thing that has been interesting to me is that I have this feeling that if anyone I know reads it...and that in and of itself is a big "if"...I think they will think it is based on my life. And suddenly that makes me feel very exposed. Because Ashlyn has struggled through a lot and some of the things she has had to face aren't comfortable topics for people. Perhaps the upside is maybe it will help continue conversations about sexual abuse and rape, about violence in teen relationships, about how the culture of our society prefers to blame the victim still.<br />
<br />
Meleenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09559424221338845836noreply@blogger.com0