Florida 2010

Florida 2010

I have always been interested in Florida. I blame Randy Wayne White, Tim Dorsey, John D. MacDonald and, mostly, Carl Hiaasen. It's the most foreign state we have. I visited Pensacola once. I liked it there but there was a lot of truth about it really being Florabama. So, with much anticipation (my favorite part of travel), I finally got to visit a different part of Florida.

We arrived in Orlando on February 10^th. The airport was crazy busy and no fun at all. After reserving a car in advance, I got ripped off by the rental car agency but, after standing in line for over 45 minutes, I paid the extra charges. Welcome to Florida.

Our destination was Cedar Keys, but the first stop was Melbourne on the east coast, for the purpose of meeting up with an old friend of Steve’s. A nasty blizzard hit the east coast about this time. More than 5,700 flights were cancelled and Steve’s friend was stranded in Philadelphia for the duration.

We found a good restaurant in Melbourne’s old town. (A lot of the buildings were empty. Further evidence of the nation's bad economy) I wanted to try conch but had to settle for shrimp-conch fritters. Delicious. The news later that night showed a large, cold storm descending on Florida from the north.

Previously, we tried to coordinate our vacation so we could see a rocket go into space from the Kennedy Space Center, but hadn’t been able to get there by the launch date. But the streak of bad weather delayed the launch, giving us an opportunity to be present.  

Early in the morning on the 11th, I saw an announcement that read:

Launch Today!

Launch Vehicle: Atlas V

Mission: SDO

Launch Window: 10:23 am-11:23

The United Launch Allliance Atlas 5 rocket will

launch NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory. SDO

will be the first mission for the space agency’s

Living With a Star Program. The rocket will fly in

the 401vehicle configuration with a four-meter

fairing, no solid rocket boosters and a single-

engine Centaur upper stage.

I'm not going to pretend I know what most of that means, but it sounds official. So we drove to Jetty Park, a place popular for viewing the launches, but we got there a couple of hours early. With the weather being so cold, we didn't quite know what to do with ourselves. We parked on a jetty with a great view in the direction of the space center. No one else was there so we didn't believe we'd be lucky enough to catch sight of a rocket. The wind was still blowing hard as a massive cold front moved into Florida from the north.

I spent some time on the fishing pier, watching pelicans catch fish. They dive like feathery missiles, hit the water with a lot of force, then emerge victorious with a struggling shiny fish in their beaks. Gulp. Repeat. There were schools of fish leaping out of the water and lots of birds. Then Steve spotted a school of dolphins. I started falling in love with crazy weird Florida about that time. It wasn’t anything like I thought it would be.  Even in Melbourne, outside of the well-off neighborhoods along the water, the homes had a tackiness I hadn’t expected. So why was I warming up to Florida after such a short time? The beach and the ocean seemed endless. Birds everywhere and I love being by the water. (I love being on the water even more)

Still freezing, we walked around the park. The bait shop sold awful coffee that we were very grateful to find. After two and a half hours, the jetty parking area was packed. People had cameras of every sort and telescopes. It felt festive. Then we could hear the loudspeaker preparing for the launch. The countdown was so much fun. The entire crowd counted along. I would have shivered with excitement if I hadn’t already been shaking for hours.

The rocket strained its way through the atmosphere. Faster and faster. Steam. Noise. Birds flying around in a panic. People cheering. It was awesome. Then it was out of sight. 

Two Videos for Writers

I found two videos on Flocabulary website that might be interesting to writers. One is a rap about figurative language, and the other is Will Ferrell giving a commencement speech at Harvard in 2003.
Good stuff and it never hurts to laugh a little bit. Will has chutzpah. Gotta love that in a person.

http://blog.flocabulary.com/extended-metaphor/

Narrative Magazine Accepting Submissions

It's fine to sit, hunched over that keyboard, but the writers getting published are the ones who are sending out their work. I'm making a commitment to send out my writing. It's one of my New Year resolutions that I predictably fail at every year. So I'm starting to send things out right now. Action creates momentum.

Narrative is accepting submissions but the deadline is tomorrow. You'll either send out that electronic submission or you won't. There's no time to procrastinate. Some of the other submission periods are free but, sadly, this one isn't.

Good luck!

http://narrativemagazine.com/node/182044

ENTER TODAY FINAL DAYS TO ENTER. Deadline: Fri., Nov. 30, at midnight, PST. The Fall Contest is open to all writers, and all entries will be considered for publication. • $2,500 First Prize • $1,000 Second Prize • $500 Third Prize • Ten finalists receive $100 each. See the Guidelines. Read prior winners. Since 2003, Narrative has pubished the first works of many writers alongside the works of established authors. We continue to present many works by new and emerging writers. We are committed to paying our authors, to providing excellent editorial support, and to encouraging a wide audience for good writing. Narrative reaches a world-wide audience of more than 140,000 readers. And It’s Free. iSTORIES | iPOEMS | RSS | NARRATIVE BACKSTAGE | A Nonprofit Publication

Writers Must Write

While in my post-houseguest coma today, I languished on the couch and watched Dr. Phil dispense common sense and pithy wisdom. His wife got into the act too. The gist of what they said was that women can and should take care of themselves and their own needs. (what a shocking concept!) Make your wants and desires known to whoever you're partnered up with, and pace yourself for the long haul because, otherwise, you'll be old and burned out someday. It's so much better to be old and rested up, apparently. This is vintage wisdom being repackaged because few women ever manage to figure out that it's not evil to indulge in some self-indulgence once in a while.

So, I was thinking about a friend who is a talented writer but never has time to write. This friend has all of the usual responsibilities of hearth, home, and family. Travels and goes to the gym but never has the time to be "selfish". Someday this relatively young person will be old.

No one ever says, "I'm decrepit and about to shuffle off this mortal coil but, by golly, I kept a clean house so it was a life well-lived." Nope. Nobody says crap like that. Studies have shown that it's not what you did with your life that causes those deathbed regrets. It's the things you didn't do. If you've gone as far as to start writing that novel, you will always wonder what it would have been like to finish.

I did some cyphering (using the archaic meaning to do arithmetic-I don't know why I talk funny, I just do) and came up with some numbers. If you wrote for 30 minutes a day for one year, that would add up to 10,950 minutes or, 182.5 hours of writing time.  If you could type two pages each session, that would come to 365 pages. Voila! a book of some sort.

Claim your personal territory and do the things that will enhance who you are.

Longmont Sunset

Seeking Marfa, Texas

I subscribe to a service from an online literary magazine called The Rumpus from which I receive periodic letters from established writers. The last one was from a poet named Gabrielle Calvocoressi, who was on a writing retreat in Marfa, Texas at the time she was composing her letter. (the letters are photocopied and mailed out en masse, but the readers are encouraged to write back to the author) She made the town of Marfa and the surrounding area sound so lovely and peaceful. (especially the stars) She writes, “…Just let this landscape work you. Just open up.” I can imagine how wonderful it would be to spend a length of time experiencing a place in the natural world, free of white noise and distraction. To be able to open up to the mindfulness that is so necessary for writing.

Our guests left this morning. The sky was gloomy and the air was crispy cold. Our house has exploded with life since last Thursday, so the abrupt emptiness and accompanying quiet is almost too much to bear. I have a long list of things to do, with laundry and cleaning out the refrigerators at the top but I really just want to write. As long as I’m in the house, the siren song of duties will be white noise inside my head, so I’m going out for a much-deserved coffee and an hour of writing time. Someone else can wait on me, even if it’s only a latte.

Happy Evacuation Day!

Thanks to a well-informed Thanksgiving Day guest, I have now been enlightened about a true American holiday. Evacuation Day! This is going to be an awesome holiday as it catches on. If you missed Sarah Vowell on The Daily Show, I've included a link here. She's an awesome writer, too.

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/thu-november-17-2011/happy-evacuation-day

Proposed symbol of Evacuation Day

Happy Nontraditional Thanksgiving

Our Thanksgiving holiday feels traditional to me because it's the way I've always done it. There are a lot of the traditional foods and desserts, the football game provides background noise, and I always exhaust myself. Our out-of-town family flies in on Thursday so we have our dinner on Friday. This works out because my two daughters can have dinner with their "other" families. (we  haven't done a very good of a job melding the families, but if it ain't broke, don't fix it.)

Now Thanksgiving is becoming a shopping day. I feel bad for the people who have to work on what could be a perfectly good holiday. Turning Christmas into an event at the mall can't be far behind.

I've been working on a short story that I need to send out to my writing group by Friday. The story isn't very long, and has two points-of-view. Some people get very fussy about more than one POV in a short story. The rules will start flying around the room.  Hands will be wrung. Now don't get me wrong... I like rules. I like people to stop at stop signs. I don't like pilots to fly planes while drunk. I could go on for pages. But writing has to breathe. It has to be like the story I'm seeing in my mind while I write. If there are two characters circling and dancing around each other, then I want to know what's going on in their heads. Knowing other people's thoughts are a luxury we aren't allowed in the real world, but fiction isn't reality. It's better!