Sorry.  I’ll give you a minute.

But I’m actually discovering a few morning joys…and it’s nice!  First, there’s the sunrise thing–did you guys know the sun comes up all big and pretty in the morning?  That it does the whole pink and gold gig TWICE a day?  I mean, look at that–it’s gorgeous!

Who knew?

But in addition to the sunrise, there’s also quiet times in the morning.  For example, there are long walks around the pond with Zeke, our dog.  Best of all, when I get home and collapse from the dog-induced speed walk, I’ve already done my exercise for the day.  And it’s not even 8:30am!

I have to tell you, this morning thing is really wooing me.  Life has a nice sense of rhythm to it when the day begins while it’s still clearly morning and there’s no brunch in sight.  It sets me up for a day of productivity, peace–and that great joy in life called an afternoon nap.

You should give it a try!

Our latest addition to the animal brood is four gerbil sisters, adopted just shy of a week ago.  We’re calling them the Spice Sisters.

Salt, Pepper, Ginger and Curry.  You can tell it’s Ginger and not Curry because she has the white on her tummy.  If you can’t tell Salt and Pepper apart, you need more help than I can give you.

We’ve been planning and scheming in this direction since the middle of December, and talked about a rabbit, hamster, guinea pig (for some reason, our guinea fowl nixed that one–afraid of the competition, if you ask me) and penguins.  Of course we had to veto that last one, as we haven’t been officially declared a zoo.

When we settled on gerbils, we planned to bring home three if they were boys, two if they were girls.  That’s what the books recommended, and it sounded good to us.  Somehow that multiplied into four girls…which may be why one proposed set of names for them was One, Two, Three, and Five.  Cause that’s they way we do math.

The first day we set up the tank, their new home looked like this:

It’s got a wheel, food dish (buried), water bottle, house, and a few toys.  Not bad, for their first day home.

Less than a week later, their pad looks like this:

It’s got all of the above, plus a new and improved chewable house and two extra levels with a hammock, rolly house, sand dish, bottle cave, and more toys.

Remember what I said about our kind of math?  Well, I think it applies to English, too.  We now have an official new term for the kind of expansion you see in the second picture.  It’s called gerbling.

Gerbling [gerb-ling]  The act of sitting before a gerbil tank, watching the gerbils.  Also, adding to the gerbil tank, planning new gerbil items, or creating new gerbil toys.

We’ve also found that gerbling can be addictive, and needs a regular ‘fix.’  Should I be concerned?

Instead, I’m sending out a happy birthday note to a man who has been my friend these many long years, J. R. R. Tolkien.  Many of my warmest memories from childhood come from sitting in a patch of sunshine while my mom read aloud from The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.  As a young teen as my family structure began to unravel and my world tipped sideways, I read the books on my own and found reason and hope in the reading.  I came back to the trilogy again during my pregnancy with our son, and was able to escape the discomforts of a body fighting preeclampsia.  I took our daughter to see the first of the movies release just one week before she was born, and have read the books with my kids as they’ve grown.  When my brother was killed in a car accident a couple years ago, I once again immersed myself in Tolkien’s world.  There have been many other books I’ve loved through the years, but none so well as these.

My thanks to the man who created them!

I know how Tolkien felt about biographies, but I’m thinking of picking one up.  I’ve read On Fairy Stories and his other essays, and would enjoy learning about the particulars of his life I haven’t yet heard.  I’m thinking of Carpenter’s ‘authorized’ biography.  Anybody read it, and can you recommend?

While I’m waiting on that particular wishing star to deliver, here are a few pics of beautiful creches collected from around the world.  They can tie me over.

Japan

Kenya

Denmark

Bangladesh

Russia

Budapest Hungary

I know, that’s a lot of them but I couldn’t narrow it down any more!  I just love how unique they are, and without being an expert I imagine that they reflect the distinct characteristics of each country.  I’m grateful I don’t have to pick a favorite.  I’ll just plan to someday collect them all!  Kind of a cheat, I know.   Which do you like best?

I’ll be stopping by to chat in the comments, and would love to hear about any dream travel spots of your own, but I won’t be putting up another blog post until early January.  In the meantime, Happy Holidays!

Then here, as my gift to you, is a list of my most beloved books on the craft of writing!

The life-alteringly good books:

• Who Dares Wins by Bob Mayer–this was one of those books that really blows the mind wide open.  The Green Beret/Warrior approach to writing really worked for me, and the exercises were great.  This book helped me delve deeper into my psyche, then clean up on the inhibitions lurking there.  What power my writing has must be credited at least in part to the tools taught in this book.
• Character and Viewpoint by Orson Scott Card–the first time I read this book I whipped through it, nodded thoughtfully, and passed it on to a writing friend.  The second time I went slowly and highlighted.  The third time my study was guided by Scott while I was in attendance at his literary bootcamp, and believe it or not, I still found unexplored gems.  I’m looking forward to the fourth time.
• Save the Cat by Blake Snyder–I tend to write at a break-neck speed, and my plots reflect that.  I knew I needed to provide some structural support to hold up all that adrenaline, but it wasn’t ’til I read Save the Cat that I could find a structure book that made sense to me.  I imagine this was the kind of how doctors felt when they discovered x-ray machines.  Suddenly, no one had to be cut open when you wanted to look at the skeleton!

The books that plugged in my lightbulb:

• Finding Your Voice by Les Edgerton–this one I’m still working through, but it’s already had quite the impact.  Voice tends to be one of the most poorly explained writing subjects, and yet is of utmost importance for a writer to master.  This book does the best of any I’ve found at explaining voice so you feel enlightened after the explanation.
• Writing a Romance Novel for Dummies by Leslie Wainger–I know, I know, you’ve heard (or said) that ‘romance novels are trash.  It doesn’t take skill to write a romance.’  Well, that’s nonsense of course, and every writer will benefit from exploring the trade secrets employed by bestselling romance writers.
• 20 Master Plots by Ronald Tobias–back in the yonder years when I first wrote a novel, I had no idea plot was even needed.  You just started off with a story idea, and wandered around til it went somewhere or died, right?  Uhm, no.  At least, not if you have 20 Master Plots on your bookshelf.  For the beginning writer out there still trying to get the story past chapter four or five, this book will feel like a life preserver.
• On Writing by Stephen King–sometimes we need a little nudge, or a cheer, to get us of on the path to bravery.  This book was that nudge for me.  It’s a fascinating look into Stephen King’s life, but most importantly it demonstrates that a writer’s personal demons can be put to work earning the writer’s bread.
• Plot and Structure by James Scott Bell–did I mention I’ve had a bit of a structure problem?  Well, sometimes it takes a second book to get the message across.  Sometimes it takes three!  This was my first book on structure, and can take a large chunk of credit that I ever finished my first novel.

The books that I’m reading now (besides the voice book, mentioned above):

• Description by Monica Wood
• Beginnings, Middles, and Ends by Nancy Kress
• Conflict, Action and Suspense by William Noble
• Scene and Structure by Jack Bickham

You’ll notice that out of these last four, three are books from the Element of Fiction Writing series, as is Character and Viewpoint, mentioned above.  This isn’t a fluke.  If you’re heading to the bookstore to buy yourself or your dear one a writing book and somehow commit the gross oversight of leaving home my list, go with this series and odds are good the book will hit the spot.

After setting aside the books I’ve listed above, I still have seventeen writing books beside me.  Plus more I couldn’t lay my hands on right now.  That’s a lot of books!  I think, come January, I’ll report on on the writing books I’m reading now and also list the books I have on freelancing as a writer.  Just in case any of y’all are broke from buying writing books and looking to earn some cash!

Or, some variation thereof.  After all, Thanksgiving is next week and there are menus to write, food to cook, and guests/travel to plan for.

I, on the other hand, have been doing this,

and this,

which is me setting up my winter village and making winter/Christmas crafts.  As I mentioned on FB, we celebrated Thanksgiving early his year and have moved on to Christmas.  And you know what?  It feels way too liberating!  I must have a rebel streak a mile wide.  Except, you know, inverted into a tightly wound helix that’s NOT a mile wide, cause I haven’t even had any holiday treats yet and can still fit into my skinny jeans!

So, here’s me gloating over all of you while I listen to my Christmas music, but there’s a chance for you to get me back.  The Cabinet (which just posted a hilarious note from Becca Fitzpatrick which will make your travel packing seem a dream) is taking me hostage on Tuesday and hooking me up to a lie detector test for their interview.  Leave your questions here, or stop by Tuesday, and maybe you’ll get the skinny on my deepest darkest secrets.  Then you can gloat.

And that’s a beautiful example and a fine tribute.  Today, however, my thoughts are a little closer to home as I think of my Grandpa and my brother, Jake.  I see each of them standing tall and proud in their uniforms, one Air Force and the other Army.  The picture of Grandpa is an old black and white photo, while my brother’s is in color and has a glossy sheen.  Overlaid across the pictures and scribbled around the images are memories.

Grandpa and me, walking down that dirt road from his house to the farm, carrying milk buckets and looking at the stars.  He’d tell me about the constellations, and I’d mix them up, but I’d remember the sense of discovery and wonder in his voice, and the knowledge that he loved me. 

My brother, fresh home from his second tour, showing me pictures of buddies in uniform, the little cat they adopted, the desert and sand and something burning in the night.  Holding other pictures back, knowing they were too raw, too violent.  His understanding that I couldn’t look at them even though he lived them.

Grandpa, his voice a little gravely as he reads us a story he’s written.  It’s about a little mountain goat and though it hasn’t got any spaceships or magic, I feel myself go still as I listen.

My brother, back when we were kids and I was the big sister he could always sucker into reading stories.  I loved the way he listened, the thrill of bringing the story to life with my voice.  We always took time for ‘just one more.’

Thank you to veterans, and to their families, and thank you to my veterans.  Your choice to protect this country is woven up in my story, and in my ability to tell stories.  I am grateful today–and every day.

This latest project I’m particularly proud of, since we didn’t buy a thing to make it.  Kind of appropriate for a compost bin, don’t you think?  We started with a section of wire fencing that we no longer needed, a leftover garden stake, and empty bags of layer pellets.

Mmm, layer pellets.  The chickens have convinced our cats that layer pellets are the yummiest thing around, and are working on convincing us.  When they’ve finished their campaign, they plan to feed us and the cats their layer pellets and dine exclusively on cat food and table scraps.

But, I digress.  The empty bags were slit open, then used to line the wire fencing so our precious chicken poop won’t fall out.  I cut notches in the top and stapled the bags to themselves, to keep them in place.

When it was finished, we filled the bottom inch or two with leaves and closed the ‘door’.

Now it’s ready for–

Okay, maybe not the chicken, but that essential ingredient to compost she’s kind enough to supply–her poop!  Our thanks to Ember, shown above.  She’s a lovely little bantam Cochin who’s a great layer, has a sweet disposition, and is always happy to do her part in helping our vegetables grow!

It was distasteful to brush elbows with the muggles, but I had a bit of fun.  A cauldron full of spiders brought to life, here, a  child’s sword sharpened, there.  One lady thought she had a clever snack of little mummies and their mum–

I whispered a spell as I passed by, and the lady’s screams echoed through the mall.

My crowning mischief of the night I worked while riding my broomstick home.  Someone had left their carved pumpkin to watch over the fluffy little chicks.

Their mistake.

Really, these muggles don’t know the first thing about Halloween.  But I and my wand will teach them!

Happy Halloween, Muggles!

But this year, I’ve been inspired by a master, and don’t know what to do!  Check out these pumpkins, carved by Tim Trudeon at the state fair!

He did hour-long demonstrations, showing us how he finds the face within the pumpkin,

and brings it out by removing the pumpkin skin and pulp around it.  I don’t know if he usually names his carvings, but this fellow was dubbed Grumpy Guy by our family.  Isn’t he just so sad?

Now I have a big, beautiful pumpkin…and the burning desire to carve something spectacular.  Unfortunately, I suspect it takes more than a burning desire.  I suspect it takes skill.  Plus, it helps to have the right kind of pumpkin (Tim suggested sweet pumpkins, also called pie pumpkins, rather than the typical carving pumpkins) and the right kind of tools.  It also involves trusting myself and a willingness to make that first cut.

I guess if it looks really, really bad and so botched I can’t put it out on display, I can always feed it to the chickens!