I Did NaNoWriMo - Did You Miss Me?

Instead of writing my random little blog entries, I have spent the last month taking part in NaNoWriMo - which is National Novel Writing Month. "Thirty Days and Nights of Literary Abandon" in an effort to put 50,000 words down on paper.  In short, would-be writers the world over endeavor to write a novel (or at least part of one) in the month of November. That breaks down to 1,667 words a day.   This year 256,618 people took part, over 8000 of them in the Seattle area. Seattle is a NaNo hotspot, we have traditionally been at the top of the list when it comes to participants, words per participants, and donations per participants.

There are so many of us who have spent our entire lives thinking we might just have what it takes to be a writer of some sort. There are so few of us who ever actually write anything. Both of the previous sentences describe me pretty accurately. I started out as a Journalism Major in College, and then switched to Creative Writing (I was lucky enough to have studied with Richard Hugo at the University of Montana). However, between then and when I started this blog, my writing consisted of several different company newsletters, the occasional Christmas letter, and a few long and wordy travel journals.

Given that only about 1 in 5 participants do finish, I am inordinately proud of having done this. Happily, and most amazingly, my book was actually finished at 51,022 words so it turned out to be something I actually did finish in every sense of the word....well, not counting edits and stuff.

No question I was one of the older participants, and evidently one of the few who was not writing some variation on Sci-Fi, Fantasy, or Crime. I think I may also have been one of the few with no anticipation that I would be published - that kind of reality-based thinking also comes from being older. My goal was quite simply to write a book. I set myself no other goals or illusions, I didn't even expect to particularly like the finished product.

I learned a lot of things from the entire process, some of which I will share with you here:

1) One's characters really do take control of their own story line.
2) Little bits you put in early on for no good reason whatsoever become lifesavers 10 chapters down the line.
3) It's a wonderful excuse for avoiding anything else you don't want to do.
4) I am the queen of starting sentences with adverbial and prepositional phrases.
5) I prefer to write novels with very little plot...because I appear to be rubbish at plot.
      5a) Put another way, I write books for ladies over fifty who like England.
6) I use too many commas (see #4 above).
7) My rear-end hurts from sitting on hard chairs at Starbucks and Third Place Books.

The finished product turned out to be better than I had feared. I can honestly say I found several really good paragraphs and a few decent chapters when I reread it. There's a lot of me in it, and so I like it. Now I will be putting my self-discipline to an even greater test...I'm am going to start editing, and rewriting, and revising. My goal is simple, I want all my chapters to be 'decent'. I think I might be able to do that.

Liverpool FC

Over the last three years I have gradually been drawn into the world of International soccer, in particular the English Premier League.  After watching all 64 games of the World Cup last year, it became clear that supporting the English National Team was not going to be a particularly fulfilling use of my time or emotions.  And so I began a search for the team that would win my heart.  I had been told that unlike most things, when you gave your heart to an English soccer team you were in it for life, so I took it quite seriously.

I watched countless games on Fox Soccer Channel and read half a dozen books, starting with Nick Hornsby’s “Fever Pitch”, arguably the best soccer book written.  Slowly, but surely, I began eliminating teams.  Chelsea, while blessed with the lovely Chelsea Blue, felt like the Yankees to me – all vain, pretty boys making way too much money and looking to be in the papers for their amorous adventures.  Manchester United, the last thing they need is more fans, and while appreciating the talents of Wayne Rooney I found him unlikable, which is also true for the brilliant but sour-faced, gum-smacking, Sir Alec. I had nothing against Manchester City in particular, but I couldn’t connect in any way either.  Arsenal…a great working class team with a great history, but again, I just didn’t connect.

Your trivia bit for the day...this is a liver bird, symbol of LFC and the city, and an iconic feature of many important Liverpool buildings - most notably the Liver Building.  It is not pronounced as in 'river' or 'liver', but as in 'driver' and there is no certainty as to which bird it is supposed to represent.  There are two large bronze liver birds on the Liver Building as it sits on the waterfront and there is a story that the birds will come alive if a truly pure woman walks between them...an perfect example of the Liverpudlian humor.

Finally, I turned to Liverpool, a team with an incredible history – both wonderful and horrendous, but who had been struggling recently.  The more I read about them, the more I was intrigued.  And then, along came Kenny Dalglish, a charismatic Scot who had both played and managed Liverpool in the past (and there is a fascinating story in all that) and was returning to manage them again.  It took me several weeks to realize that one of his attractions to me was a certain resemblance in face and manner to my ex-husband in those early days to which I can still look back with great affection.

I think what finally clinched it for me was the first time I heard the crowd of 40,000 plus singing “You’ll Never Walk Alone” as they do each game.  I have known the song forever, I can even describe the sheet music (it was lavender, with a woman in a gown walking down a romantically-lit aisle) from which my brother and I played and sang many, many years ago.  I tear up every time it happens and I am always slightly embarrassed – sitting alone watching my TV and getting all emotional about a song I sang so many years ago and didn’t particularly like at the time (never could hit the high notes).

Today I had one of those ‘duh’ moments, when I realized what it was.  My high school years were blessed with a nationally recognized football team that was undefeated in 50 games.  Standing in the stands at the end of every game we sang our Alma Mater, a traditional sappy one at that.  But I will never forget, at the end of what could have been the 51^st game, singing it with all my heart and tears rolling down my face.  There is no doubt in my mind that is the emotional connection there.

In spite of Man U’s brilliant success recently, no other team has the history and glory that Liverpool has known.  It is worth getting up at 5: every Saturday morning to watch the live games – win or loose.  YNWA

(Get it?  YNWA....You'll Never Walk Alone)

Business is Business

We all understand "buy high, sell low" is a business basic.  Even if we have no intention of selling for a profit, when we buy something which we know is worth a great deal more than we are paying, we are participating in this concept, if only in our imagination.  I once bought a lovely etching for $85, hung it over my desk for four years and then sold it for the amazing amount of $1600 in Charleston - pretty much paid for my trip.  I was thrilled and quite surprised at its value.  In fact, I suspect I could have gotten a few hundred more if I had been willing to shop it around.  What I DID NOT do, was go back to the seller and wave the $1515 under their nose.

There is nothing more irritating to me, as I clean up and catalog a new postcard to find that the card I have just paid $3 for was purchased by the dealer for 25p (that is about 40 cents!)  I don't even want to calculate the mark-up which that represents.  All I ask is that for this amazing profit, they at least do me the courtesy of taking 15 seconds to erase the price they paid from the back.  Is that really asking too much?

I know, I know...Business is Business.

I told you...

I said this blog was not going to be an everyday thing, it's not like I didn't warn you.  But I will admit, this post has been a bit long in coming and it's not even a real post, more like an apology.  No one wants to be bored with details, but my excuses (oh yes, I have more than one), in a nutshell, are... software issues, camera issues, dental issues, and a massive craft project.  I shall amuse and/or amaze you all with some REAL posts in the very near future.

Oh, I forgot one more excuse...a massive fascination with international soccer (football) that has resulted in countless hours in front of the TV.

Dill Follow-up

The good news is...the dill lasts much longer than regular flowers and the slight fragrance lasts nicely also.

The bad news is....it's really messy.  There is a fine powder of dill pollen for a 3 foot radius which doubles when you handle the stems for disposal.

The verdict....it's worth it at least once a year.

Dilly Dilly

Every time I go to a Farmer's Market at this time of the year I gravitate to the pickling cukes for two reasons.  The first is that I really prefer the stubby wrinkled cukes to the long smooth year-round variety.  The second is to pinch the dill that is always available alongside them.  I love the smell of dill!

This year, as I stood pinching the dill, I noticed one lovely bunch (fully four foot tall with roots) that had somehow escaped being bent or scrunched.  So I bought it, took it home, and arranged it in my tallest vase.  There was even enough odds and ends for a small arrangement in a bottle.


Not the best photo ever, but you get the picture...

 I think it looks great, and every time I walk through the living room, I smell the dill...and I don't have to pinch anything.

Together...still...

As near as I can figure, Kate and Bob were the first people I met 55 years ago when we moved from Montana to the Seattle suburb of Kirkland.  They had a corner grocery store one block from our new house…an old fashioned corner store just like the one my parents had owned in Great Falls.  They had a son a little older than I and a daughter my brother’s age and their family has danced in and out of my life ever since then.

My mother worked part time at their store for a while.  I went to school with the kids.  When their son married a girl from Great Falls we discovered her grandmother lived a block from our store at the reception in Kirkland.  After I was married and in a home of my own, my closest neighbors and good friends turned out to be great friends of this couple.  As we had children, they played softball together.  When the son married for the second time, my daughter sang at his wedding.

When Kate and Bob left the store they moved to my block and for many years I watched Kate take her afternoon constitutional down our street…and I watched Bob come up everyday to pick up the newspaper he shared with another neighbor.  If I was out working in the yard, they would stop and chat.  Kate was a hoot and Bob was an old smoothie.

Today I went to a memorial for Kate and Bob.  In death, as in life, they did it together.  At the ripe old age of 96 they passed away within 14 hours of each other.

Rest in Peace, Kate and Bob.