Food for Thought or Thought about Food

Rain driving down in buckets. Blew off my 8:00 a.m. workout. Couldn't go out in that cold wet dark horrible downpour. I'll workout later, I tell myself. Yeah. Sure.

Came down to read e-mail and found a link to the Murderati blog. Just the thing calculated to make me feel even guiltier.

If I don't eat, I become nauseated. Don't remember a single anorexic soul in high school or college. Of course, Marilyn Monroe was the ideal figure and I was always trying to gain weight. Hard to believe. I don't believe it myself anymore. Skinny was unattractive. Boys liked curves. Ah yes.

The photo is me as a skinny young mom with a mocking child hamming it up. La di dah.

Read on:
http://murderati.typepad.com/murderati/2008/11/the-antifood-post.html

Happy Thanksgiving, I think.

Grapeshot

Confidence

Image is from: edutechgeek.files.wordpress.com

Lately, I've spread my writing wings a bit beyond genre fiction and blogging. I've got one and one-half short stories written, a food memoir, a report on an event and even a deposition for a court case. I'm also looking forward to writing and delivering a humorous Toastmaster's speech.

What is remarkable is this: these days when I sit down to write anything, I have the confidence that I can do the writing, both first and subsequent drafts and that it will be at least acceptable. How did it get from my cybercrime sleuth to Jill of all trades?

Plant butt in chair is the big advice for writers. In other words, sit down and write. And yanno, if you do it often enough (5+ novels,umpteen blog entries, this 'n that) eventually you get the hang of it, and you know you can do it. You can produce whatever is needed without blood and tears. Sweat may still be involved, but one out of three isn't bad.

I'm feeling pretty good about this, because it's been a long time coming. When I first started writing, "they" said you had to write half a million words (500,000 for the math dumbos) before you were any good. I did that and more in 5 novels. Probably wrote close to 750,000 with rewrites and so on. In the beginning, that many words sounded impossible, when I had written maybe 75,000. Yikes! And another beginning writing teacher hushed me when I tried to bring this up in class. I believe he thought that it would discourage the "beginners." Dammit ! Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.

Maybe I should thank my blog readers, whoever they are, for reading the blog and keeping me blogging, because "Suck It Up" counts for a words written, too, over the years. And writing with brevity helps the cause.

So thanks. Comments, as always are welcome.

Grapesbot

The Writing Workout

Early morning aerobics class and the instructor is really working us out, and the deep breaths must stir the neurons to cross the synapses-- something in my brain, because plotting ideas for In Flight are coming at me like kamikazees, and I have to tell myself to pay attention both to the workout and to the ideas--it would be a shame to get come and ask myself, "now what was that?"

The instructor worked us harder than usual, which is good except when you're doing it. I got heartburn from the piece of walnut-pear-sour cream coffee cake I had scarfed down before leaving the house. Good cake. Bad idea. See cake photo. Yum! I seldom bake coffee cakes.

Now I can write more when I get back from Toastmasters. Planning a cool Toastmaster's speech on my greatest cooking blunders. Should be fun. My aim is to become an entertaining speaker.

The cake serves twelve and the company we were expecting bailed, so 3/4 of the cake is in the freezer. It's always a pleasure to have something in the freezer that doesn't have to be thawed and cooked. This is a link to a very similiar recipes: http://recipes.recipeland.com/recipes/recipe/show/Pear_Walnut_Coffee_Cake_13739

More anon,

Grapeshot

Memories of Kansas

I completed the first assignment for the Food Writing class at Brown, writing about my Kansas grandparents chicken yard, garden and kitchen. It's a memoir piece, and I have to tell you I shed a few tears writing it, and now, of course, the rationalist, the cynic, wonders if it's too sentimental. Only the ending is sentimental, which I try to tie back to the beginning. It's hard to write heartfelt without getting soppy. It is for me. But I think it will be O.K. At least from my other writing, I've learned to appeal to the senses, which food writing should absolutely do, and to create some drama and have a beginning, middle and end.

I wrote another chapter of In Flight, and adding that to my five pages of short story for the Guppy Anthology, this has been a productive week. And in the garden, too, as we brought everything into the house but the geraniums. Winter is a comen in.

We went for a walk today and discovered a path to the swimming pool that we didn't know about. Good walk through the woods. Glorious maples. You just can't beat fall in New England.

And now the Red Sox (sob) are trailing eight-zip, and will have to get their act and their pitching together. I do still miss Manny, and wish Big Pappi would slam a few out of the park. Ah, it's a frustrating sport.

I actually survived not going to Bouchercon. Everyone has posted photos and it looked like loads of fun, but gosh I'm glad I kept that thousand dollar bill in the bank. Everyone around here is having garage sales to raise a bit of cash.

We really did eat beans tonight, navy bean soup and it was so tasty! The recipe called for fresh thyme and rosemary, and the usual bean soup fixins. The bacon was fried, drained and sprinkled on the finished soup. Yum! I halved the recipe which was for twelve, but we won't get three meals out of it, oh my no!

You have yourself a very fine Sunday evening!

Grapeshot

The Literary Life

After all the food blogs and the politics blogs, the cat blogs, cow blogs and what have you blogs, you may be wondering if I'm still writing, as in novels.

I am, and now almost 100 pages into the new novel, In Flight, which is coming along all right, and just needs to be written down. I think it's going to be good. Whether it will sell or not is another question. Anyway, it's fun to be in the head of a Columbian drug lord, at least some of the time.

Finally, finally, an agent asked to see some pages of Festival Madness. In the meantime, I have discovered one or two novels about Burning Man are in the works or looking for editors, or what have you. None like mine, of course. What I have to say in defense of my novels is that they are a "fun read," with all sorts of cool stuff. Obviously fun does not make it publishable.

I'm taking a Food Writing course at Brown University. After all the food blogging it seemed a sage thing to do. And there's this short story about a robot fish. Can't tell you anymore, because the fish worked for the CIA. I am not making this up.

Totally 100% afraid to look at the end of the quarter financial statements wending their way to the mailbox. Looked at two, eeeek, and that was two too many. In the meantime, of course, the market has really sh__the bed, and one begins to think of how to scale down expenses rather drastically.

Get thru the winter on the same old clothes. Don't we all have way too many clothes. Maybe it's time to wear some of them out. Yup. Do I dare buy some new pajama bottoms from the Job Lot?

Eat lots of rice and beans and chili. Hey, that doesn't sound so bad. Oatmeal cookies? Yay! Netflix instead of concerts, plays and movies. Yup. Nip out to the 99 instead of the la-di-dah places. I can do that for a while, esp. after a memorable meal at Al Forno.

Shop the sales, yada, yada. I think our TV which is NOT cable ready but we do have cable--anyway the TV appears headed for the great tube tomb. Appliances never crap out at a good time, do they? Usually it's at 5:00 p.m. on the Friday of a three day weekend.

I would not want to give up cable, since that's where the good shows are. Otherwise, one might as well not replace the TV.

Enough gloom and doom. Tomorrow is cat blog day. Will the kitties do something memorable? Bloggable? Or is it the same-old, same-old? Stay tuned.

Grapeshot