Science provides the basis for many interesting thoughts, prompting a lot of fiction. Today, I am grateful for the reality of quantum transportation. The theoretical framework for the “translocation” power of adepts in the Rothston series is pretty much a scientific reality now. And even better, the real science provides an elegant solutions to an unwanted dangling thread at the end of the series.
So thank you, science, for inspiring fiction and creating solutions.
I saw a play tonight. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t very good either. There were problems with the sound system, resulting in inaudible lines and left the main character, when she could be heard, sounding out of breath. It wasn’t up to the theatre company’s usual standards. It’s unfortunate, but it reminded me that sometimes, we fail to be the brilliant creators we want to be.
I get frustrated with myself when I don’t write as well as I think I should, but we all have our mediocre days. As a writer, those mediocre words get rewritten and edited out so that, hopefully, the readers never see them. For a theatre troupe, the “meh” performance occurred and cannot be un-performed, but the show will go on to other nights and better performances. That’s a good and encouraging lesson for me. Mediocrity happens, and I have to keep going.
For quite awhile, the phrase “ham sandwich” was the most used search to land on my website. Before that it was “Matrix steak.” They hit my website because of posts I made long ago on my blog, one mentioning the construction of a ham sandwich, and the other discussing the steak scene from the movie The Matrix. Such is the life of an unknown novelist with only two published books to her credit so far. I have hoped that, at some point, it won’t be randomly mentioned terms in blog posts that attract the most attention on my site, and it turns out, that point is now.
The analytics for my website this morning showed new top search terms. They are: (1) my name (with various spellings); and (2) my name and “books.” This isn’t a world-changing development. It doesn’t mean thousands of new readers nor a movie deal. But it does mean I’m no longer competing with a ham sandwich and losing. And for that, I am grateful.
Several articles appeared in my Facebook news feed today about how women are treated with disrespect in ways that men are trained not to notice. In general, I stay away from such issues, not because I think the articles are wrong but because I choose to focus on social issues that I consider more pressing. Others will have different priorities. I can respect that.
Nevertheless, I know from personal experience that women are ignored, interrupted, threatened, and otherwise disrespected far more than men and far more than men notice. One of the articles included a Punch cartoon of a boardroom with the caption: “That is an excellent suggestion, Miss Triggs. Perhaps one of the men here would like to make it.” I’ve been that woman many, many times. I’ve been interrupted and talked over so that I could not speak to make a point. I’ve counted a male in the room running with my ideas as a victory despite the same suggestion being ignored when I’d made it.
So why does any of this make be grateful? Because I do not deal with it anymore. Being an author has plenty of challenges, but being ignored by my daily colleagues isn’t one of them – I don’t have any. And today, I am grateful that I don’t have to deal with that hassle.
Andrew has been home for a few days to celebrate Memorial Day and take a break from his apartment while he finished up the research for the professor he works for. We’ve played games together. He has cooked and baked a lot – happy to have an oven that has a working thermostat. We’ve run errands. And we’ve just hung out. He’s probably leaving later today and while I get more done when he’s not here, I have enjoyed having him around and will miss him. He’s grown into a nice adult and I am proud of him.
This morning is sunny, the trees are rustling in the breeze and the bird are singing merrily. A good morning to pause and reflect on the blessings of my life.
Today, I will enjoy the peace and tranquility of my country. I won’t get upset at the rants of about how those “others” (liberals or conservatives; Blacks, Whites, Yellows or Browns; those in need or those who have plenty; Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindu, atheists or agnostics, those who root for opposing teams or even (gasp) different sports; those who adhere to traditional gender roles and those who do not) are out to destroy our country. Rather, today I will remember that the freedom of thought that leads to the divisiveness we see daily on Facebook is an essential aspect of all freedom, and that despite our sometimes loud and disrespectful exercise of that freedom, we are one people in the United States, special in our lack of homogeneity. Today, I will remember that the right and ability to question the basic beliefs of ourselves, our neighbors, and our government is what makes this country great.
And today, I will remember those who have paid with their lives so that we continue to have that freedom.
Warm sun, a cloudless sky, and a breeze cooled by the lingering ice of Lake Superior over 500 miles to the north. This was tonight’s recipe for a perfect evening. I took a long walk, enjoying the crisp, clean air. Wonderful.
It sounds arrogant to be grateful for my brain, doesn’t it? But it’s not something I chose or really had much to do with at all. And yet, while I think I’ve encountered insurmountable hurdles of complicated fiction building, my brain will break them into discrete chunks and tackle them, one by one. I am always amazed by that, as if I am watching someone else do it. I am grateful that my brain will do this, even if I don’t understand how.
Mark and I went to see the Lego Movie this weekend. It was cute and fun. And it has a AWESOME song. Well, actually it’s one of those rapidly annoying tunes that gets stuck in your head. So, of course, we’ve been singing it to each other for days. But it is fun and upbeat.
