Dreams

"There are people who put their dreams in a little box and say, 'Yes, I've got dreams, of course I've got dreams.' Then they put the box away and bring it out once in awhile to look in it, and yep, they're still there. These are great dreams, but they never even get out of the box. It takes an uncommon amount of guts to put your dreams on the line, to hold them up and say, 'How good or how bad am I?' That's where courage comes in.” ― Erma Bombeck

So I've become a person with a box of dreams. I don't quite know how it happened, but there it is. A box. It's not even a pretty box. It's plain and paper bag brown. It's not very heavy, which is surprising. With all of the things that it holds you think it would weight a ton. Turns out dreams don't weigh very much, it's the product of dreams that carry the weight. A dream is only a thought. Sometimes fleeting, sometimes constant, but it's nothing substantive, not until you put it into action.

I've decided to take one of my dreams out of the box and put it into action. I was sitting down with a friend of mine tonight and I was looking through my previous blogs for a specific entry, which I didn't find, and I saw all of the ideas that I had swimming around in my head, the summaries that I had put onto paper. It's my dream to write. It's my dream to be published. It's my ULTIMATE dream to make enough money writing to be able to do it full-time. So why is it that I can't seem to find the time to do it? Why is it that I push it aside? I can admit that sometimes it's just because I'm lazy. I work 6 days a week and on my one day off I like to sit around and vegetate or watch football, or baseball, or Arrow. I mean really, who can't get behind a couple of hours of Oliver Queen? But that's not what I dream of. Okay, it's hardly what I dream of. Sometimes I dream of Oliver Queen, but I swear it's not often.

So, that's what I'm going to do. Stop dreaming and start acting. I want to finish at least one story this year. Even if it sucks. I have a variety that I could choose from. Jack & Carly, Megan, the actress & the bodyguard, the murder mystery. I just have to finish one of them. It doesn't have to be ready to send out to anyone, just complete. Baby steps.

Dear Greyhound Bus Lines,

Three weeks ago I bought a ticket from Glendale, AZ to Flagstaff, AZ to depart on Sunday, October 6, 2013 at 5:10 p.m.. Your e-mail verifying my ticket said to be there an hour before the bus departed so I arrived at 4:00 p.m. and sat in your disgusting, dirty station for over an hour after I checked in. When the bus arrived, admittedly on time, the bus driver proudly announced that he only had 4 seats available, while my college bound daughter was the last person to get on the bus, but not the last person waiting for the bus, she was told she had been misinformed there were actually only three seats left.

When I asked the bus driver what I should do about this, seeing as how she needed to be back to school in time for her classes the next morning, he pointed to the guy at the ticket counter and said, "take it up with him". Excellent!

The very nice kid behind the ticket counter informed me that there was a bus leaving the Phoenix station at 11:30 p.m. and arriving in Flagstaff at 2:00 a.m.. Seriously? You want me to drive to another station and risk my daughter being dropped off in the middle of the night?!? I don't think so. So, in that case we'd just have to wait until the next bus that came on Monday at 10:45 a.m., or something close to that.

Just so that I'm clear, I bought a ticket for a seat on your bus that arrived to the station without enough seats to accommodate every person who was waiting on it.

While I was on the phone today with your customer service department I was informed that Greyhound Bus Lines works on a first come, first serve basis. Apparently buying a ticket does not guarantee you a seat until your ASS IS SITTING IN IT! So buying your ticket 3 weeks in advance and arriving an hour early at the station doesn't actually do anything unless your willing to push people out of the way to get on board.

So, thank you very much for refunding my completely useless ticket and wasting over an hour of my time waiting for a bus that couldn't accommodate my needs.

I just thought you should know that the business that I had pretty much guaranteed you for the next 4 years is now gone. Exxon is thrilled.

Sincerely,

I will never spend money with your lousy company again!

It Came to Me in a Dream

Looking back on the weeks that followed the discovery of my husband's affair I can see how I might have landed myself in this holding cell.

I told everyone.

I told my mom, "I'm gonna run that bitch over with my car."

I told my best friend, "There's already body damage to the front end. Who's to know?"

I even told my therapist, who promptly asked if she needed to call and warn her she was in danger. "I don't know." I had said, "Do you think it might give her pause?"

How was I to know someone else would actually run the dumb tramp over?

The thing is I wouldn't actually run her over. At least I'm pretty sure I wouldn't, but when I said those things I was venting. You know, I'm so mad I could kill her. You don't intend to. They're just words. At least they're supposed to be. Apparently someone meant them, but I swear it wasn't me. Honest!

I've never had an idea for a mystery before. I'm still working out the details, but here is one more idea to go into the book of "One day I'm going to be a writer".

Divergent by Veronica Roth

For those of you who visit often, not that I post all that often, you know that I don't typically review books. It's not my thing. I don't feel like I have a knack for it, but every once in a while I read a book that I just MUST share with all of you for one reason or another.

I found the book Divergent on Goodreads.com. It came up as a recommendation and I thought the artwork was pretty awesome so I put a hold on it at my local library and waited. Eventually my request was granted and I received my audio copy of Divergent by Veronica Roth.

The first few minutes into the story I realized that this book was YA. This is what I get for not reading the summary thoroughly. I don't read YA. Okay, I rarely read YA, but the reader had a great voice and I figured I'd give it an hour.

Divergent is the story of Beatrice Prior. Beatrice lives in a dystopian society in Chicago with her mother, father and her brother in the Abnegation faction. In Beatrice's world every person has a faction. A faction is the part of society that you live in. There are five factions, Candor (the honest), Abnegation (the selfless), Dauntless (the brave), Amity (the peaceful), and Erudite (the intelligent). Every child at the age of 16 chooses a faction to which they dedicate their lives. Beatrice has to make a choice. She can either stay with her family and pretend she belongs or choose a new faction and be the person she truly believes she is.

Beatrice makes a decision that surprises everyone and embarks on an initiation process that will show her exactly what kind of person she truly is. But she must protect herself. Beatrice has a secret that could get her killed if the wrong people found out.

Her journey brings new friends, dangerous enemies and a love interest along the way.

I don't want to give too much away, but this is an amazing book. Beatrice is a strong interesting character who I found myself rooting for. The supporting characters are just as good and keep the sub plot moving along. I never know what I'm going to get with YA, but this book was really well written and I think all ages would enjoy it.

I was excited to get my hands on the next book to see what happens in the series but it's not out yet. Insurgent comes out in May 2012.

I hope you will all pick up Divergent by Veronica Roth. Tell her I sent you! ;)

Struggling Reader

My goal today is to write 2,000 words, so instead I decided to write a post. I'm a procrastinator. I can't help it

So most of you know that I have set a goal to read 100 books this year. So far, I'm on track. According to Goodreads.com I am four books ahead of schedule. I'm impressed.

Thanks to Goodreads.com, I have found several new to me authors. Some of them I just love. Kristan Higgins. Love her. Karin Slaughter. LOVE HER.Sue Ann Jaffarian. LOVE HER! Thenthere are other authors that I have found that I won't mention cuz that's rude. Let's just say that I have stopped reading 3 books so far this year, THREE BOOKS, that I just couldn't get into for one reason or another and a fourth book that I pushed my way through because I was determined not to stop reading a fourth book.

I'm beginning to wonder if it's just me. What is my problem? One of the books that I stopped reading was by one of my favorite authors. It was just getting too freakin' weird for me. Says the girl who reads paranormal and fantasy. *sigh*

Has this ever happened to you? Have you ever gone through a spell where you just kept picking books that you couldn't get through? Is there a cure? Am I not going to reach my goal this year because I can't finish a book any more? WHAT'S GOING ON????

I also wanted to mention that part of my 100 books this year is to not reread any book that I've read before. Ever. What have I done?

Library Loot

Library Loot is a weekly event co-hosted by Claire from The Captive Reader and Marg from The Adventures of an Intrepid Reader that encourages bloggers to share the books they’ve checked out from the library. If you’d like to participate, just write up your post-feel free to steal the button-and link it using the Mr. Linky any time during the week. Andof course check out what other participants are getting from their libraries! This week's Library Loot is at Marg's.

My library card is maxed out, so to save you all from the gigantic list I'll only list a few. You can thank me later. ;)

Black Ice by Anne Stuart

Living paycheck to paycheck in Paris, American book translator Chloe Underwood would give anything for some excitement and passion--even a little danger. So when she's offered a lucrative weekend gig translating at a business conference in a remote chateau, she jumps at the chance to

shake things up.

The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein

Enzo knows he is different from other dogs: a philosopher with a nearly human soul (and an obsession with opposable thumbs), he has educated himself by watching television extensively, and by listening very closely to the words of his master, Denny Swift, an up-and-coming race car driver. Through Denny, Enzo has gained tremendous insight into the human condition, and he sees that life, like racing, isn't simply about going fast. Using the techniques needed on the race track, one can successfully navigate all of life's ordeals.

The Boy Next Door by Meg Cabot

Gossip columnist and single New York City girl Mel lives lives in the most exciting place in the world, yet she's bored with her lovelife. But things get interesting fast when the old lady next door is nearly murdered. Mel starts paying closer attention to her neighbors—what exactly is going on with the cute boy next door? Has Mel found the love of her life—or a killer?

Crazy In Love by Lani Diane Rich

Flynn Daly is turning thirty. And thirty is the age where she has to, gulp, get a job. Not just any job, but a job working for her real estate magnate father, a man who's tired of supporting his daughter through her many careers. So when their great-aunt Esther Goodhouse, proprietress of a historic inn nestled in Nowhere, New York, dies, Flynn finds herself smack dab in the country, contending with a hotel staff that's unsure of their new boss, a scruffy, sexy ex-policeman named Jake Turner who's convinced that Esther's death wasn't as natural as it seemed, and the ghost of Aunt Esther herself, who starts showing up in Flynn's dreams and undoing all the personal touches that Flynn tries to make to her new home.

Forget Me Not by Vicki Hinze

Crossroads Crisis Center owner Benjamin Brandt was a content man—in his faith, his work, and his family. Then in a flash, everything he loved was snatched away. His wife and son were murdered, and grief-stricken Ben lost faith. Determination to find their killers keeps him going, but after three years of dead ends and torment, his hope is dying too. Why had he survived? He’d failed to protect his family.

Now, a mysterious woman appears at Crossroads seeking answers and help—a victim who eerily resembles Ben’s deceased wife, Susan. A woman robbed of her identity, her life, of everything except her faith—and Susan’s necklace.

The connections between the two women mount, exceeding coincidence, and to keep the truth hidden, someone is willing to kill. Finding out who and why turns Ben and the mystery woman’s situation from dangerous to deadly. Their only hope for survival is to work together, trust each other, and face whatever they discover head on, no matter how painful. But will that be enough to save their lives and heal their tattered hearts?

Can I be a good writer?

I have been debating about whether or not to continue on with my dream of writing. Life keeps getting in the way and I have thus far been unsuccessful in my endeavor to finish a story.

I don't want to go into all the why's and how for's of why I'm not getting anything done because it's very personal and I don't feel like sharing quite that much with the entire world wide web; however, it's been on my mind. What makes someone a good writer?

Do you have to be able to wax poetically like say, Jane Austen? Do you have to be able to scare the bejeebers out of someone like say, Stephen King? Do you have to be able to write a best seller like say, Danielle Steel or John Grisham? I don't think so. I think that as long as you have a story to tell and a pencil (or writing implement of your choice) and paper you can write.

One of my favorite writers is Erma Bombeck. She left us way too soon and took her talent and her humor with her. She had a way with words that always brought a smile to my face or a tear to my eye. I'd like to share with you all some of my favorite Erma Bombeck quotes and one column. She reminds me that we don't all have to be Charlotte Bronte to be a writer.

I hope you all enjoy these as much as I do. Here's Erma....

“Housework can kill you if done right.”
― Erma Bombeck

“Sometimes I can't figure designers out. It's as if they flunked human anatomy.”
― Erma Bombeck

“No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.”
― Erma Bombeck

“Cleanliness is not next to godliness. It isn't even in the same neighborhood. No one has ever gotten a religious experience out of removing burned-on cheese from the grill of the toaster oven.”
― Erma Bombeck

“My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.”
― Erma Bombeck

“There are people who put their dreams in a little box and say, 'Yes, I've got dreams, of course I've got dreams.' Then they put the box away and bring it out once in awhile to look in it, and yep, they're still there. These are great dreams, but they never even get out of the box. It takes an uncommon amount of guts to put your dreams on the line, to hold them up and say, 'How good or how bad am I?' That's where courage comes in.”
― Erma Bombeck

“When God Created Mothers"

When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of "overtime" when the angel appeared and said. "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."

And God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?" She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts...all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said. "Six pairs of hands.... no way."

It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God remarked, "it's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."

That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. God nodded.

One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, 'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say. 'I understand and I love you' without so much as uttering a word."

God," said the angel touching his sleeve gently, "Get some rest tomorrow...."

I can't," said God, "I'm so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick...can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger...and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower."

The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.

But tough!" said God excitedly. "You can imagine what this mother can do or endure."

Can it think?"

Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise," said the Creator.

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek.

There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model."

It's not a leak," said the Lord, "It's a tear."

What's it for?"

It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride."

You are a genius, " said the angel.

Somberly, God said, "I didn't put it there.”
― Erma Bombeck, When God Created Mothers