Chicago Characters - Pig Man

Jim, the Pig Man at left. You probably can't tell but his hat has a stuffed pig on it (I was trying to be unobtrusive when I took this picture). I've been seeing this guy around Chicago for years and have never seen him without the pig hat. Well, I suppose I could have, and not recognized him. I can't figure him out. Is there a pig farm here in the city?

Read a Chicago Tribune article from 2004 about Jim, the Pig Man.

A Remarkable Tribute to Nelson Mandela

Conscious Life News

 

The Nelson Mandela Sculpture in Howick KwaZulu-Natal South Africa. The artist of the sculpture is Marco Cianfanelli. 

The sculpture is made up of 50 poles that symbolize the 50th Anniversary of his arrest in Howick KwaZulu-Natal. The poles range in height from 5 meters to 10 meters. When one walks through the poles, the practical pattern gives the effect of a gunshot which symbolizes the political uprising of the ANC . The Length of the sculpture is 20 meters. The front of the sculpture is a portrait of Mandela, it has vertical bars which represents his imprisonment. The portrait of Mandela can only be viewed at 35 meters from the front of the sculpture when all the poles line up. 

When Instant Gratification Isn't Instant Enough

Patience is a virtue, one I never had. I used to be better. When I had to wait for the dial to rewind after each number on my rotary phone, I was more patient. Oh my god. That took forever but I didn't know it. It's just how it was.
When I had to go to the library, find the research section and go through the Encylopedia Brittanica to find out what year the Battle of Hastings was fought, I was more patient. (1066. It's a fact that will never leave my brain, and I don't even know where that battle took place).
How many tomatoes does it take to make a pint? Years ago you'd have to just guess, chop up those tomatoes and put them in a measuring cup until you had enough, and you probably bought too many, or worse...not enough. Now, you just Google it.
And getting around? Remember all those maps? Unfolding them on your lap and following along with your finger. Now you just use Google Maps and Siri will tell you when to turn and when you've messed up.
It's not going to get any better. We are a society that wants everything now. I want everything now. Sooner than now. I admit it. Patience is a word of the past.
Molly Campbell says it best. Read her very funny post:

BYTES

By Molly Campbell
I hate my laptop. It is a relic, really. I got it a year ago. It is so slow! My God, when I want to watch a video, it takes what seems like YEARS to download! I mean, really—if  I have to wait sixty seconds for something to watch, it is absolutely not worth watching, you know what I mean?

I used to read newspapers. I remember back in the day. I would have to make a cup of coffee, sit down for an entire Sunday morning and leaf through the New York Times. Now I have it on a compilation website. I love it. The site is customized to my interests. I stuffed it full of my faves:  The NY Times, Salon, Slate, Mashable, CuteOverload, The Atlantic, Time, CNN, The New Yorker, Thought Catalog, BlogHer, and Huffington Post. I think I have some recipe sites in there somewhere, as well.And guess what? I can pound all of that down in the time that it takes me to yawn. Well, slight exaggeration. I use my iPhone for this activity (reading while yawning). Yes, the print is tiny, but the darn phone is so fast. It downloads videos almost instantly. Google something? You find it before you finish typing in what you want. YouTube? I could spendminutes on this site!But here is the thing: my actual life is so draggy. I timed it this morning: it took four freaking minutes for my toast to pop up! And good Lord—what is with microwaves? They are as slow as molasses! It takes a full two minutes and forty seconds for me to heat up my cold brewed coffee. I use cold brew, because you do it the night before. So you don’t have to wait for perking or dripping, which is like eternity first thing in the morning.

Read the rest of this post.

Writing Tip: Write the Way You Speak

Don't over-think your writing. And don't overwrite. Writers, especially new ones, think they must sound smart, literary and professional. Well, that's a goal for us all but if you try too hard it'll be obvious to your reader and your writing will sound stilted and pretentious.
Do what comes naturally; use your own voice, be authentic. That's what will draw people in. If your writing is real, people will feel at home reading your work. Make it natural and casual, particularly when writing dialogue.
A tip: read your dialogue out loud. If it doesn't sound like you and your friends talking, re-write it until it does.
Here's an article from Writer Unboxed about underwriting versus overwriting: Check it out.
Bottom line is there's no right or wrong way to do this writing stuff. Do it however feels best to you - just do it. Get it all down on paper. Write, write, write, and don't worry about the process. There are no absolutes about how it's done. Complete your first draft but remember, that's just the beginning. Whatever mistakes you've made (and there will be many) can be fixed. You have to start somewhere.

Writing Tip: Nothing Kills a Story Like Happiness

In real life there's nothing better than happiness, but in fiction nothing will kill your story quicker. Conflict, a little tragedy, a bit of jealousy, a helping of anger...that's what will keep people reading what you write. A happily-ever-after ending is fine but it only works if your hero/heroine has gone through hell and back to get there.
Here's an excellent post to help you learn how to write conflict from one of my new favorite writing sites, Live Write Thrive.


Read the rest of the article

The Day My Mom Was Supportive

Mother/daughter relationships are fraught with emotion. There's so much riding on them.
I wish I could say my mom and I were close but our relationship was difficult, from the time I was a teenager until the day she died. We tried. Some. We talked about it when I was an adult; why we misunderstood each other, why we took things the wrong way. We made an effort to understand what we needed from each other, but were never able to figure it out in a way that would smooth our road. We were oil and water.
As I look back now I'm sure she was proud of me and my accomplishments, but she never said it and I never felt it. I didn't feel support or encouragement from her. It seemed to me that nothing I did was good enough. Possibly she felt the same about me.

After high school I went to the University of Toledo part time, paying for it with money I earned working at Bargain City and money I borrowed from my aunt. My parents didn't have a lot of money - I'm sure they had no idea how they'd come up with the funds to send me to college. I talked to my dad about college during my senior year of high school and he put me off, said, "We'll talk about it later," and I was always the kind of kid (and adult) who thought, "Well, fuck you then...I'll do it myself."
I majored in theater and fantasized being an actor. I pretty much sucked at it, though.
So I quit school and got a full time job at a trucking company. I know you're envious but it wasn't as glamorous as it sounds, tho there was a really cute guy who worked on the loading dock.
So by then I was twenty, still living at home, still clashing with my mother, dying to escape, wanting more of life than trucking. I knew what I wanted wasn't in Toledo, and, truly, getting away from my mom was a major motivator so I decided to move to Cleveland.
Being that I was a daddy's girl it came as no surprise when he tried to talk me out of it. He was afraid for me, thought I was too young to be living in the "big city" on my own. He offered me a car if I'd stay home (an old, used one). I passed on that.
And then I told my mom, sure she'd think it was a stupid idea - not that it mattered. I didn't really care what she thought.
Imagine my shock when she said, "Good for you!" She told me she'd wanted to do that when she was my age and never had the opportunity - girls didn't do that kind of thing then. She said, "I think it's great," and offered me sheets and towels for my apartment.
It's a powerful memory. It's the one time in my life I remember her being supportive and encouraging, and it always brings a tear to my eye. It makes me wish I'd tried a little harder to learn who she was as a person, not just as the mom who was a pain in my ass.
For a time I was aggrieved that I didn't have a June Cleaver kind of mom, but I gave that up long ago. She may not have been the mom I wished for but at some point I understood she did the best she knew how to do.

For An Author, Book Clubs Are The Best!

Some of the members of the Beverly Book Club

As an author there's nothing more satisfying than being present at a book club discussion about a book you wrote. I was recently invited to attend a book club in Beverly for a discussion of my novel, What More Could You Wish For. One of the members had won an auction at the Beverly Arts Center that included copies of my book and...me! Unfortunately some of the members had left before I remembered to take a picture but here I am with some members of this hospitable group.

Skyping with Norfolk book club

Another favorite experience was Skyping with a book club in Norfolk, Virginia. One of the members happened upon my book in a book store, chose it for a book club selection, and then contacted me for discussion questions. I not only posted discussion questions on my website (which I'd been meaning to do forever), but I offered to meet with them, virtually. And voila! a Skype meeting. What fun!

I love interacting with people who have read my work. It's fascinating to hear what resonates (or doesn't) with my audience and to discover how people interpret things, even if I didn't intend that interpretation. What it reminds me is that once a book leaves an author's hands it's no longer ours alone. Now it belongs to the reader, and you have no control over what they see. I really love that.

When I was with the Beverly group they talked about an incident in Libby's life, the main character in What More Could You Wish For, something monumental to her, something that happened when she was seventeen. Later in the story when Libby's fifty she's discussing that incident with her mother, who doesn't remember it at all. One of the book club members said, "Oh come on...really? How could she not remember that?" I thought she was saying I should have changed that in the book, that it wasn't believable. But it turned out she thought the mom was pretending she didn't remember. Which says to me that the characters were alive for her, and that's so gratifying.

So, one last thing they did was cast the movie. Here are their picks:

Libby: Diane Lane or Julia Roberts

Patrick: Kurt Russell or Sam Elliott

Michael: Stanley Tucci or Colin Firth

Mom: Helen Mirren
Dad: Clint Eastwood or Michael Caine

If you've read the book what do you think of their casting? Not to prejudice you but I think it's brilliant!