
The Christmas holidays are most likely your best chance in the year to read. If your family or close friends aren’t as keen as you, send them off on other pursuits – the Sydney Festival if you’re in NSW (or even if not); bush walks, tennis or whitewater rafting; the beach; the movies, especially moonlit […]
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We nonfiction writers tend to live more in the real world than in the world of the imagination. I know I feel very grounded in place, wherever I am, and I’m experiencing what goes on around me—the sun, or not; the breeze, or the heavy dense air; the soft forest path under my feet or the hard concrete sidewalk. Roz Schanzer expressed this feeling very well in her recent blog about her Costa Rican photo safari. At times, like during a drab, hard winter, our way of being so intimately in touch can be perhaps more difficult than for those who can escape into their heads with flights of fancy.
But when spring finally does break, as it did just a week ago at my home in Montana, the natural perception and appreciation of the real becomes an energizing joy. With a bedroom window open, my house soaks up the amazing smell of spring—of growth, life, fruit trees in bloom, whatever goes into that heady concoction that proclaims, “Spring is here!”
I haven’t discussed this idea with my fiction-writing friends, and maybe I’m wrong; maybe they find a gray, cold winter just as oppressive as I do. It depresses my creative juices, and nonfiction writing is a creative art, as we nonfiction writers struggle to recreate the real world through words invented by humans. We struggle especially hard to describe sensations like smell and taste, for which our language has few useful words. And when I see the amazing variety of color and size and shape in natural beings like these flowers in the garden of my friend, I’m overwhelmed by the idea that I might even try to express their beauty and variety in mere words. Then I remember that doing is not only my job, it’s my passion and my great challenge.
Good Morning:
Oh it is a lovely and warm day. The twitterpated birds are busy gathering bits of this and pieces of that. All to be woven into ragged yet efficient homes for their upcoming eggs.
I am on the watch for the return of my yearly visitors...The Hooded Orioles.
I have my Oriole feeder ready to hang at the first sight of flickering orange. They will stay with us from early spring through September. The male visits first, establishes the feeder and then brings his "wife". They will build their nests away from the feeding station. Once the eggs have hatched and the babies (usually two) are big enough to take flight, mom and dad will introduce them to the feeder. By the time they take leave in the Autumn, the babies will be teenagers.
Oh how I adore Springtime!
In celebration of the upcoming Vernal Equinox, I am offering free shipping on my three favorite prints from my Art Shop... When purchasing, mention that you read about the sale on my blog and I will add a free ACEO print of your choice.
Here are the three Springtime prints:
Little Bertie in the Garden
Rabbit's Unexpected Party
Dancing Fiona
Until Next Time:
Kim
Garden Painter Art
©Kathleen Rietz
I tried another pose that seems sort of challenging to me. Sometimes we lose the fullness of form when we try to draw a person lying flat on the ground.....and I think the foreshortening of crossing one leg over the other can also be challenging. But this is such a relaxed pose. Can you tell how much I am longing for summer??
©Katleen Rietz
Tonite I challenged myself to draw a child in a scrunched position, and to give that child glasses. I sometimes think proportions can be tough in a pose like this, and glasses can look comical if one is not careful. Overall, I am pleased with the sketch, although I admit I fussed with some shading and the spade and watering can for a while and it took me longer than 15 minutes. I sort of liked it before I added all of the rendering. It had a really nice spontaneity to it.
©Kathleen Rietz
Ooops - I missed a few days. Oh, the life of a freelance artist can take its toll. The first quarter of this year was so dreadfullly slow. I spent much of it pushing myself to draw every day, experiment, stretch my vision as an artist....and it seems to be paying off right now. Much of what is happening in my professional life I need to keep quiet about for the moment. But this lifestyle - especially in this current economy - is feast or famine. So I missed a few days because I took some time for myself to recover from overlapping deadlines last week. I made it into the gym, saw friends, walked the dog and planted a tree. These simple joys inspired today's post, which is an ode to Winnie the Pooh.
"Spring Dance" ©Kathleen Rietz
"The Cat's Meow" ©Kathleen Rietz
"Butterfly Dance" ©Kathleen Rietz
I am actually working on a series (in my mind), and this is the first painting. Busy busy busy week, so I am not sure if it will only be a series of one! ; ) Is there such a thing?
I did not feel like writing tonite, but I stole some sleep time to paint a little.
© Kathleen Rietz
One of my biggest pet peeves is gossip. We all know what it feels like to be the target. Makes you not want to go to school.© Kathleen Rietz (the elusive Easter Skunk)
Just after 10pm on Saturday night, my dog Sunshine had a run-in with - among all things - the Easter Skunk. I let her out into the yard to do her business, but she never even made her way off the patio before she was sprayed in the face by a skunk. For those of you who do not have skunks in your part of the world in which you live and have never smelled the aroma emitted by these creatures of darkness, I cannot even begin to describe the smell to you because nothing compares to it. But it is oily, deep, intense and nauseating. My friend Joan who lives in Hawaii found my story rather amusing because she "thought these things only happened in cartoons"....like Pe Pe Le Pew. Needless to say, I nearly cleared out the drug store as I waited in line to pay for my remedy.....NO ONE would stand next to me. I also did not make it to church today to celebrate Easter. Nor brunch at the country club where my sister works. No one wants to eat an omelet in a room that smells of skunk funk.
Anyhoo - if any of you are interested, here is how you get rid of skunk funk:
On your pet, shampoo the pet with a mixture of:
1 pint hydrogen peroxide
1/4 cup baking soda
1 tsp Dawn liquid dish soap
Leave on pet for 10 minutes, rinse.
In your house:
In a large pot, boil water, Clorox bleach and salt on your stove on high heat for several hours. I was so pleasantly surprised to find how well this one works! We boiled the pot all day and the smell is actually gone!
I hope you all had a much more relaxing and enjoyable Easter weekend than I did. I am looking forward to hitting a post-Easter candy sale to soothe my psyche with a chocolate marshmallow bunny if I can still find one!
©Kathleen Rietz (today's image is for Leon)
Any of you who know me well know that Easter has a much deeper meaning to me than bunnies and coloring eggs. But I do enjoy the images of spring this time of year. Here in Chicago there is a winter storm warning today. I could use a little springtime festivities right now! Happy Easter everyone!
By the way, if you have some time this weekend, check out an interview with me An Interview with Kate! and see what else us Picture Bookies have been up to!
Good Morning:
Just a short entry today, as Thursday's are always my busiest days. It's been a simple and quiet day thus far, which is always a lovely way to start a day. I am rather fond of days that are hushed and ordinary. It gives me time to see and smell all the goodness that is so easily overlooked in the busy-ness that can sometimes take over.
If I breath in deep, I can almost smell the Springtime today. Even though it's a little chilly outside, and an ever-so-slight grayness has moved in, there is a hint of Spring lurking beneath. I will enjoy this simple morning as long as it lasts. As I know that within the oncoming hours, the daily rush will set in, and I will be off in a whirlwind of chores and commitments.
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I finished another collage ACEO last night and listed it in My Etsy Shop. It's another in my "Amelia" series and it may be my favorite of all...
Amelia Visits The Ghostly Orchards
I just love the ghostly Victorian women picking apples. I left them sepia toned except for the apples, to give them a sort of ethereal look.
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Thanks ever so much for taking the time to stop by and have a look at my blog. As always, I truly appreciate it.
Until Next Time:
Kim
Garden Painter Art
Guess the Plot
Dog Park
1. A scientist recreates an entire species from DNA gathered from the blood inside a frozen tick, and builds a theme park around the animals. When the animals turn on him, it's up to two children, a mathematician, and Miss Nevada to set things right. Also, a saber toothed weredingo.
2. When Sheila Abernathy built a "wilderness" dog park outside Cincinnati, she had no idea it would soon be swarming with Ohio's prostitutes, blackmailers, juvenile delinquents, and real estate speculators. Or did she? Ace homicide detective Zack Martinez has 3 gruesome murders to solve and 483 suspects . . . including Sheila.
3. There are already enough bars filled with high-maintenance bitches and horny wolves, so frat brothers Eric and Rob start a new chain of pick-up joints for fat, ugly people and call it "Dog Park." Over time they come to learn that fat, ugly people don't just exist to be exploited, and both men find love in the lunch-lady arms of double-bagger twins Velma and Thelma.
4. Dog Park; the overgrown tract of land where kids play in the rusted car wrecks, where you don't have to poop-scoop after your pet, and where ducks and humans can breed in privacy in the overgrown bushes. Now the council wants to clean it up. Can a bunch of mums and dogs, kids, junkies, fags and whores take down the fascist bastards?
5. In a moment of desperation secret agent Nick Armstrong tucks a flash drive in the jacket of a poodle in the elevator. Tiffy Jones strolls away with no idea the fate of Chicago is on her dog, Fluffkins. But Gus "Chicken-Face" Lombardi knows and he'll stop at nothing to get it. Can Nick do a Houdini from the thug-mobile and get to the dog park in time to save Tiffy and Fluffkins?
6. When terrorists release a plague inside the US, a Homeland Security intern and a hunky medical student may be the country's only hope of figuring out how the disease is being transmitted. When they stumble on the answer in a dog park, they are torn. Should they tell the president, knowing he will declare that to save human lives . . . all dogs must die?
Original Version
Dear Holder of My Future, Please Treat It Well:
Ivy Leaguer Samantha Carre is enjoying her summer internship with the Department of Homeland Security. That is, until something that looks like the plague on steroids starts killing people in New York, Virginia, and DC. The superbug is resilient and fast-spreading. The evidence points to a bioweapon being mechanically released -- but by whom, by what vector, and where will it strike next?
Teamed with brilliant and handsome biomedical student Max Stein, Samantha sets to work interviewing victims and their families, looking for any common thread among them. But with a frightened country bringing travel to a standstill, the healthcare system on the verge of collapse, and a viable vaccine still months away, time is growing desperately short.
When Samantha and Max stumble on the answer in a neighborhood dog park, they become terrorist targets. Chased, shot at, and possibly exposed to the plague, they must rely on brains, brawn, and each other to stay alive long enough to alert authorities to their discovery.
But eluding terrorists is only their first challenge. Harder still will be convincing the Director of Homeland Security and the President that containing the outbreak doesn't mean wholesale slaughter of the vector used to carry the plague: not strays and discards, but a nation of dogs people care about and love.
DOG PARK, a thriller with romantic elements, is complete at 80,000 words. I look forward to sending you the manuscript.
Sincerely,
Notes
I was informed by the author that this query was sent to help relieve the query shortage, and that there is no actual novel. Which means I don't have to do any work. Also, I have nothing else, as no other title in the queue has generated five fake plots.
Guess the Plot
Cruise Control
1. After watching their leading man ruin Oprah's sofa, ridicule depressed people, and give his wife a pacifier during labor, movie executives decide it's time to take action.
2. Nicole has had it with her ex-husband, so she has a voodoo doll made. Now, when he appears live on TV, the world will know what she put up with.
3. The story of a Hollywood publicist, Damaj Controlle, whose desperate attempts to rein in an egomaniacal client result in Damaj's firing. The client's outrageous behavior includes jumping on couches, impregnating a brainwashed youth, and frequently using the word "glib."
4. Tom is being blackmailed into leading a religious cult, and decides the only way to end the extortion is to smear his own reputation and become hated by all. But will televised conniptions and tirades against squirt gun microphone pranksters be enough?
5. Being a Hollywood "star wrangler" is Evie's job, one she excels at. But what can even she do with a certifiably insane Scientologist?
6. Katie'd had enough. No more sofa dancing. No more weird sci-fi mumbo jumbo religion. No more hunching over in public just to appease his enormous little-man ego. She wanted her life back. So she fitted Tom with a subcutaneous behavior-modifying microchip. Now if she could only remember where she left the remote.
7. The seas are afloat with blue-haired old ladies and wannabe professional gamblers. Captain Stubing and Gopher are not at all pleased with the current demographics, believing the new crop of cruise goers are destroying the romance of moonlight strolls and heart-throbbing love trysts. So Stubing and Gopher form a committee to ban sunglasses, baseball caps and Fixodent aboard their cruise line.
8. It doesn't take long for Sadara Obi to decide what to do when he finds a time portal in the basement of his bullying friend, Fang Woo. He travels to 1945 and changes the course of history by installing cruise control on the dashboard of the Enola Gay. Welcome Back, Hiroshima, and Goodbye Shanghai!
9. When dastardly mechanic Cheesy Adams wires his remote controller into the navigational circuitry of a cruise ship, hilarity ensues. But what will happen when a boatload of angry geezers and crones arrives in Haiti?
10. Even though prostitution is legal in the desert town of Tatterville, Police Chief Roy Beauregard is sickened by the hookers strolling Venter Avenue, because that’s where the Dairy Queen is, and Roy’s daughter Lila loves Butterfinger Blizzards. Roy begs Mayor Ernie to erect “No Cruising” signs, but when Mayor Ernie refuses, Roy concocts his own plan and has all the sidewalks replaced with metal grates, the archenemy of stiletto heels!
Original Version
Dear EE,
Tom has it all; money, fame, power. He used to be a person people cheered and revered, until that fateful night. That night he found himself in the company of a peculiar science fiction writer by the name of L. Ron Hubbard, or as Tom had previously known him, Dr. L.
Dr. L knew all about Tom's crime, the crime he had worked so hard to cover up, the crime he could not let anyone ever find out about. But Dr. L's presence proved his cover-up had failed, and now he was thrown at the mercy of a deranged lunatic. Blackmailed by Dr. L into leading a religious cult, Tom's fame becomes his Achilles heal. Hew devises a plan to end his extortion. If he can smear his reputation and become hated by all, he may be set free of his cult duty. Through explosions of feeling on Oprah, tirades against squirt-gun microphone pranksters, and two divorces and marriages, Tom sets out to ruin his name, but will it be enough??????
Cruise Control is a 171-word thriller. Thanks you for your consideration and I hope to hear from you soon.
Notes
I gotta start reading these things when they come in, instead of waiting till the minions have put hours of thought into composing their GTPs, at which point I don't have the heart to ditch the query.
Terrific post, Dorothy. I like to think that I write about BIG ideas decorated with facts. The facts or "factoids" are details born of incredible intense observation and experimentation. In science, it is the cumulative observation of myriad details that lead to the great generalizations of science also known as "inductive reasoning" going from the specific to the general. In writing it is all about "show, don't tell."
So it is, Vicki. I read a wise phrase in a blog this week that says 'show don't tell' in different words, maybe not always applicable to science--"Write to express, not to impress." But it can certainly apply for writing such as my books, if I'm talking about traipsing through the rain forest or some such activity.
How nice of you, Dorothy, to quote from The Big Burn. I have an older copy of the book, and found it to be a fascinating story with an engaging style. It was my bedside book for a week. It didn't hurt that I wanted to be fire ranger when I was a kid. And I connected to your post because I'm
a former horticulturist. Every post is a gem.
MJ Wentz (lurker and fan)
Wonderful post, Dorothy - and you practiced what you preached! Love the arnica photos.
I loved hearing from you, Fortunate One; I feel fortunate to be in a critique group with Jeanette. She always has great comments on the work of others, and it's always a pleasure to help her hone her work as well. I'm going to copy your comment to her; she will surely appreciate it!
And Gretchen--I can't resist with the camera; it goes everywhere with me! Thanks for the comment.