NaNoWriMo: And so it begins

National Novel Writing Month has begun! This is my third NaNoWriMo and I'm excited to get this year's novel started. It's tentatively titled Land of Legends and it's about a family that owns a roadside attraction in a little town in Virginia. It starts in 1995 when Iris is ten years old. We'll eventually get to the present and what happens when you have to come home again.

Today's word count (as of right now): 2,264 words. If I keep up at this rate I'll finish by November 23rd. Let's see how that goes. Until then enjoy chapter one of Land of Legends. (As always, please excuse any typos or misspellings; this is about writing a novel not editing one.)

Part One: June, 1995

Chapter One

    There were fantastic hiding places at every twist and turn in the Land of Legends. A visitor had to look but they were easy to find once you set your mind to it. If you started at the entrance of the park and followed the marked pathway, you’d first find yourself in the middle of a snowy vista with hills and what looks like a cave. Follow the path and a creature comes into focus almost hidden against the white “snow” all around you. The Yeti towered above most visitors as he walked to his icy cave. That was the first hiding place; the entrance to the Yeti’s cave. It wasn’t large enough to actually hide anyone and wasn’t a cave so much as the illusion of a cave. If someone chose that as their hiding spot, anyone coming into the park would see a person after a minute or two. Best to move on to other options.

    Continuing on the pathway would bring a visitor to the next display, the World of Greek Myths. Opting for the path to the  left would bring a visitor to the maze, guarded by the Sphinx (found in both Greek and Egyptian mythology). What might be found in the maze? A minotaur perhaps or maybe a hydra or even the lair of Medusa and her stone people. Among the creatures are lots of dead ends, perfect for hiding until the maze guards come to check for lost visitors. It’s not uncommon to get lost in the maze.

To the right, a Pegasus in mid-flight greets visitors. Following his lead would take you through the world of gods and goddesses and the start of the park’s rainbow. A chimera crosses the path with its fire-breathing and ferocious roar. He’s actually good to hide behind but only if it hasn’t been raining; the ground gets a little muddy. The chimera leads a visitor to the Land of Dragons, the most popular area at Land of Legends.

Hiding places abound among the dragons. Under or behind their grand wingspans or along their winding tails. Every type of dragon from Norse myths to Asian banners are here. There’s even an epic battle taking place between a group of dragons; flames and thrashing tails and flapping wings creating all sorts of nooks and crannies. Dragons are nice but what about the creatures from the sea? Maybe the ideal hiding place isn’t among the flames of dragons but behind the rocks where mermaids and Sirens call sailors to their watery deaths. The shadow of the Kraken could provide ample cover as it brings a ship down into the briny deep.

None of these are quite right. One more magical land awaits, the Fairy Forest. If a visitor strays from the path but followed the arc of the rainbow connecting the gods of Greece to the fairies of the forest, a quiet tableau awaits. Unicorns, majestic and beautiful, take up this spot. The rainbow ends not at a pot of gold, although you can find leprechauns here too, but just behind a grove of trees large enough for a little girl to hide from the visitors of Land of Legends and more importantly, from her annoying cousins who have not yet learned the meaning of the word “privacy.”

Iris was hiding in the grove by the unicorns. This was her favorite place in the whole of Land of Legends. The unicorns were special and beautiful to her. She ignored the obvious age of the creatures, instead focusing on what unicorns symbolized: beauty, grace, healing, and magic. If she couldn’t hide in her grove, she liked to sit under the end of the rainbow. Iris felt most at home under its protective arc.

She often came to this hiding place during the summer months when it was packed with visitors, making their way through Land of Legends. Iris would finish her chores, pack her backpack, and come here to escape her cousins and the ever watchful eye of her grandma, Maeve. In her hideaway Iris could watch people come and go, daydream, and draw and paint uninterrupted. This was her studio. Iris drew visitors, little kids and their parents, walking around Land of Legends, posing for photos and enjoying themselves. She drew page after page unicorns, sometimes quiet studies of a single unicorn drinking from a lake. Other times she’d draw and epic battle between the unicorns and the world of man, as buildings encroached on the unicorn forest. She often drew the people she saw as figures from the park; moms became mermaids, the pattern of a shirt became the scales of a ferocious dragon. Sometimes it was just regular portraits of the people she saw. Iris practiced and honed her skills; her dream was to become an artist.

Iris always packed her backpack for the whole day. Her sketchbooks, pencils, and paint box were the most important part of her packing. She always included her most prized possessions; a crystal unicorn figurine and a small statue of Bastet, the Egyptian cat goddess. Her aunt gave them to her for luck (or so Aunt Bronwyn said). The figures were comforting and kept her company. She attached a blanket and small pillow to her pack. The last part of packing were her snacks. Her grandma helped with this part and always included a grape juice box and a thermos of water. She was never expected for lunch.

Today was quiet. Iris had been in her grove for about an hour when the park officially opened for business. She hadn’t seen any visitors yet; she had been able to walk quickly through the park and found her grove undisturbed as always. Her father would look for her in the afternoon but she had hours before that. She was excited to get sketching today; she added a book to her pack at the last minute. It was about Irish and Scottish folklore. She wanted to draw banshees and thought the book would help. Her grandpa’s library had stacks and stacks of books about myths and legends and folklore. He never minded her borrowing any of them; he liked that Iris shared his love of these stories. She always took extra care of these books, treating them like treasures.

She arranged her studio as she always did. Her aunt had first called the grove Iris’s studio. Her father, grandparents, and aunt knew about her hiding place and encouraged her artistic interests. They also kept it a secret from her cousins, telling them that she was helping with a project somewhere in the park. Her arrangement of her studio never changed: the figurines sat on the upper left corner of the blanket so they could watch her paint and draw. She laid out her pencils and paint box at the bottom left of the blanket so she could easily reach what she needed. Her sketchbooks were right next to her but she had settled on looking through the myth book to get her day started.

Iris was in the middle of a story when she heard voices in the distance. At first she thought it was her cousins, Brigid and David. She could hear the voices of a boy and a girl but as the voices got closer she realized it wasn’t them. She put down her book and grabbed her sketchbook and a pencil. She turned to look through the trees and saw a family walking towards her hiding place. The girl was around her cousin Brigid’s age; the boy was taller so she guessed he was older but not by much. Iris was ten but she was good at guessing people’s ages. They were dressed nicer than most people who visited Land of Legends. Iris realized it was Sunday and thought maybe they had come from church. The girl’s dress seemed out of place even in the Fairy Forest. The forest looked shabby compared to the bright pink and white flowers of the sundress. The family must have skipped the rest of the park if they were already here. The Fairy Forest was the at the end of the path. There was no way to skip around; her grandpa designed it that way.

Iris began to sketch the two children as themselves. As she began sketching the pair she saw out of the corner of her eye, the girl trying to climb onto one of the unicorns. Her dad got to her just in time and stopped her from climbing up.

“Elaine, you can’t climb on the unicorn. Don’t you see the sign? We told you the rules before we came in.”

“But I want to ride a unicorn!” Elaine screamed. She was almost to the point of tantrum.

Brat, Iris thought. People had no respect for the time Iris’s dad and the staff took caring for the displays. They might be old but that was no excuse for people to treat them badly. Iris hated when people touched any of the creatures but it was especially bad when it was the unicorns. Those were hers.

“If you don’t follow the rules you don’t get to pick out a prize in the gift shop.” The girl’s mother tried to take Elaine’s hand but the little girl was having none of it. A full out tantrum was about to start.

The boy had stayed out of the tantrum, looking intently at the unicorns and reading the signs. He stood the closest to Iris’s hideout. She tried to be quiet but the movement of her pencil across the page made some noise. The boy saw her through the trees. He didn’t say anything but smiled and returned his attention to his family and the full out tantrum that was going on behind him.

“Aunt Sarah, can we go see the dragons? The unicorns are kind of lame. I really want to see the dragons and the fire. Uncle Alex said there were dragons.” It was almost like he knew Iris didn’t want them there. She certainly didn’t want to be discovered and if they stayed any longer they probably see her.

Aunt Sarah sighed loudly just as Elaine stopped her tantrum. “Dragons are scary. I like scary stuff.” The girl ran over to the boy and grabbed his hand. The group moved away from the unicorns. Iris let out her breath and relaxed. The boy glanced back at her and winked. He definitely knew she was there and was helping her out. Iris didn’t understand it but was thankful for his help. Iris waited until they were far enough away from her spot. She packed her bag quickly. No one had ever seen her before (at least that’s what she thought). She didn’t want to chance them coming back.

She figured she could spend the rest of the day helping in the gift shop or hang around the cafe. Her dad let her stock items and reorganize the little figures and buttons as often as she liked. Sometimes she’d get to fold t-shirts or bus tables in the cafe. Summers were the best season at Land of Legends; people even tipped her.

The back employee entrance was closest to the unicorns. She could go in that way and avoid her cousins for a little while longer. Brigid was eight and Daniel was seven so not that much younger than her but younger all the same. They enjoyed following her around the park on days they didn’t go to camp. Brigid was the worst; she idolized Iris (or so her dad said and then defined idolized for her) but she really just got in the way. She wasn’t a good artist like Iris and she didn’t like to hang out in the park; these were Iris’s favorite things to do. David always wanted to play pirates. Iris liked playing pirates but not all the time. Her cousins exhausted her.

No one noticed Iris come through the back entrance. She turned down the back hallway and opened the door to her grandparents’ house. Well, it was her house too. The house was on the same property as the park but as separated by a large fence. Iris thought it was like a moat. Hse and her dad moved in five years ago; she had her aunt’s old room. It overlooked the park; she could see the top of the kraken from her window. Most of the displays were obscured by trees. It was spooky at night when the lights were off; the creatures cast shadows in the moonlight.

Iris dropped her backpack in her room. She took out one of her sketchbooks and a few pencils. If the shop wasn’t busy she usually spent her time in the shop drawing. She made her way back down through the kitchen. Her grandma Maeve was there, baking bread.

“You’re back early. Is it too hot out?” Her grandma kneaded the bread with a force that always made Iris jump.

“No, a boy saw me. I didn’t want him and his bratty sister coming back so I came home. I guess I’ll go help in the shop.” Iris grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter.

“Your dad’ll like seeing you. By the way, your cousins aren’t coming by today. Bronwyn took them roller skating or something. They have camp the rest of the week so you’re safe.” Her grandma smiled at her.

“Thanks Grandma.” Iris gave her a kiss and made her way back across the moat to the shop.

It's not so easy writing about nothing*...

Earlier this week I finished Patti Smith's new book, M Train. I'm a huge Patti Smith fan; she's one of my musical idols and her first book, Just Kids, is one of my all time favorite books. I've been eagerly awaiting M Train and was not disappointed in my experience. It was very different from Just Kids; there was no specific narrative although there was a connection throughout the work. Where Just Kids focused on Patti in New York in the 1970s, M Train moved through time with some rhyme and reason. Much of the book is about travel and her life with her late husband, Fred "Sonic" Smith (of the band MC5). I was so impressed with the sadness in M Train; it never became maudlin or a Patti Smith pity party. It's just there like it is in life. If you're a fan of Patti Smith you should add this to your reading list.

M Train is also the last book I'll read until the end of November. Yes friends, it's almost time for National Novel Writing Month! For the last two Novembers, I've spent the month writing a 50,000 word novel in one month and refraining from doing things like reading, being social, and eating complete meals. I'm a planner even when writing so I typically use October for prep for the month. It's actually encouraged; as long as you don't write any of the actual novel, you can do prep prior to the start. For my past novels, I did things like character sketches, timelines (very important last year), and ideas for endings while not actually writing anything. The character sketches were probably the best prep I did. Each of my characters, particularly in my first year, were fully fleshed out before I started. I knew all the details I needed to make them come alive on the page and I felt very connected to each one. Last year, I did a little less on the characters (although they all had a complete bio) and more on the locations I featured throughout the story. Those places were characters and I wanted them to be as present and realistic as possible especially since most of them are real places that you can go to (or could have gone to at one point in history).

I had every intention to get prepped for this year. In September I settled on my idea and should have been in a good place to start mapping out the characters, deciding which war my reenactors would reenact, and was set to create to fictitious museums. All I had to do was figure out how the ancient order of museum scholars would fracture and become the warring factions they are today.

None of this happened. Every time I sat down to write something, I would stop or get distracted by something else (it's my patriotic duty to watch reruns of NCIS on USA). Despite really liking the idea and wanting to create this world, I just couldn't get into it. This is even after sharing with my writing buddy and a new NaNoWriMo participant. Both thought the idea was good and that there was potential for some cool characters and everyone loves ancient orders of one thing or another. My heart wasn't in it and if my heart's not in it, I know it won't work. Over the weekend I decided to scrap the whole idea and start over again. With two weeks until the start of NaNoWriMo. I guess this is my year of living dangerously.

So what will this year's novel be about instead? There's no ancient society of anything. No museums to create, no art to describe. I could focus on baking, my other favorite hobby, and build on some of my short stories from over the summer (not the same characters of course since that would break the rules). I could but I'm not. I could write a full length Pickles novel but I'm saving Pickles stories for when I decide to start writing children's books.

I was in Leesburg this weekend attending a friend's wedding and the idea came to me as we (my parents and I) were driving around Leesburg. I'm pretty sure this was my first time officially in Leesburg; it's kinds of a strange place. There's are lots of developed areas (shopping centers, the outlets, breweries for miles, and strip malls) and the historic town of Leesburg. It's retained the loveliness of an old Virginia town. And then there are these long stretches of farmland and vineyards that come out of nowhere. It's a jarring contrast and it made me think of all the little towns I've driven through and visited around Virginia. Some of them are nothing more than a few buildings and a street or two; others are just a sign that says you were in one place and now you're not. We develop areas so quickly and haphazardly (or so it seems) these days. Driving around Leesburg and the surrounding area helped me form an idea that I hope I'll be able to develop during the month. I also hope I can get my act together and get some characters figured out sooner rather than later.

There's no title yet; it'll come eventually. The story will focus on a family owned roadside attraction in a small Virginia town (not unlike Dinosaur Land) and the family who owns it and has to make some decisions about the future of their business and their legacy. Rather than dinosaurs, my roadside attraction will focus on mythical creatures from multiple cultures and areas of literature. I'll still get to include my museum character in the form of the daughter of the current owner of the attraction. Like her "sisters" in my previous novels, she'll be looking for her home and community, something I think about often in my own life. There will be humor and conflict and emotion and mermaids; all the things you want in a novel.

Here's where I need your help. I'm letting you, my lovely Island readers, decide two things this year:

1. Which mythical creatures should be part of the roadside attraction? I can't say that I'll use all of your suggestions (I already have my own ideas mapped out and have let a few key friends pick one or two) but input is fun and it's possible I've left out a creature or six.
2. Do I allow you to read along with me as I write? Or do I "publish" the finished novel at the end of the month? For the past two years, I've posted excerpts from the novel on the blog and shared the finished version via a Google Doc link with a few people but maybe it's time to share the whole thing with the world. 

So Island readers, I leave it to you. Post your thoughts in the comments and we'll see where the month takes us.

Next week: One final Lazy Movie Weekend before NaNoWriMo begins. We'll take a look at one of my favorite Halloween movies that no one seems to have seen.


*from M Train by Patti Smith

Your Resident Single Friend: Passing notes in class would be easier

I got an email this week from the online dating site I belong to letting me know that "successful" people who have been part of the site for the same amount of time as me (14 days, 18 by the time you read this) sent and received more messages than I have in the same amount of time. I assume this information is supposed to be motivational. I want to believe that this company cares and that the person on the other end of that email was sitting in his/her cubicle thinking "This email will be awesome! It will push those shy/unsure/socially awkward guys/gals out of their comfort zone and help them find their matches and get out there in love!" And then a bluebird landed on their desk and a group of squirrels brought them coffee.

I may be a bit cynical.

I was not motivated by this email. Instead, it made me feel bad. I get it, writing a good email is hard. Intention and tone are challenging and mass emails are even worse. The message is clear: you are not trying hard enough. This email made me want to cancel by subscription and tell this company exactly where they could place that email. Signing up for online dating is stressful enough; why would they want me to feel bad about it in the process?

Back in March I decided I would apply for Date Lab and create an online dating profile. At the time, I only applie for Date Lab. I thought I'd see if I was one of those Date Lab people who immediately got set up with someone or if I would be one who would get matched five years later. I'm guessing five years later is my fate. Anyway, since I had done "the work" of applying for Date Lab I basically had the answers to my profile ready but I didn't move forward with part two of this plan until fourteen-ish days ago when I decided to throw caution to the dating wind and get online.

For someone like me, an introvert with a lot of very specific likes and dislikes who has not had great luck in the dating world, creating an online dating profile is like that dream where you show up at an important presentation completely naked or only speak gibberish - terrifying and ridiculous. It's outside of my comfort zone.Yes, I can talk to a group of employees or museum visitors about my personal life or whatever we're discussing. I have a shared experience with those groups so the interaction is different. Online dating is all about putting yourself out there and creating an image of yourself that is truthful while still be exciting and captivating. You have to stand out and sparkle in some way. Introverts are not great at sparkling. I don't want to lie in my profile (a helpful article in The Washington Post this past weekend assures me that lying on profiles is a myth). While I don't have to use my name in my screen name or even share incredibly identifiable information (although some people do), it's still about talking about myself in a self-promotional way that I'm not very good at. I just want to be myself as this post on Quiet Revolution suggests. My friend Jordana offered a "recommendation" of sorts to add if I wanted to; she described me as "Wes Anderson witty" and as "an organized dreamer." I may or may not have used one of those phrases in my profile. Mostly I want to come across as fun, quirky, smart, and date-able.

I believe I've accomplished that to some extent. In my first day on the site, I received three photo likes (I'm guessing it was because of the dinosaurs in the background), a profile like, and an email from someone who's screen name left something to be desired. Seriously, using "yolo" in any identifying way is a bad life choice. I couldn't take him seriously so it was a delete on my end. I've done my daily check in of reading matched profiles and liking guys I found funny or interesting. And that's about it. I have not emailed, winked, or done any of the other things that feel suspiciously like a more expensive form of passing notes in middle school. And the site agrees; I'm not working to my full dating site potential. I'm not being "successful" and outgoing like those other members. I guess the fear of being rejected is strong even in a somewhat anonymous online world. Sad but true.

Of course I have not given up. The process is far too entertaining to give up and I am hopeful that it will at least lead to meeting a gentleman or two. Nicknames have been fun: "yolo" guy, Spaniel guy (he emailed me about walking his dog in the rain), decoupage guy (I told Jordana I would email him because his profile made me laugh for the right reasons rather than say, the terrible grammar or wildly inappropriate screen name), and possibly has a secret family guy (all of his photos feature a different woman with no explanation as to her identity - I assume it means he has a secret family). I was also matched with someone who I know...kind of. I don't know him well and I'm fairly certain he wouldn't recognize me out of context (we're work acquaintances). I feel like this can only get better; eventually the job search-like quality of the search will become actual communication.

What I'm most comforted by is the support I've received from my friends. There is a group at work who I refer to as "The Ladies Committee." If given access and permission I'm certain they would do all the rating, liking, and winking for me but I have not allowed that. Yet. I hope they'll help me agonize over an email when a potential date arises (because that's what girls do) and keep me from going on painful dates (or at least only a few of them). Two of my friends would like to be present on dates just in case or to be able to interview them. There was some discussion around communications equipment like ear pieces; a bit much but the sentiment is appreciated. One of my guy friends even told me that he would never do this and admired that I had but myself out there despite the awkwardness and potential for disappointment.

As I said back in March, the key to being successful (or at least trying this whole thing) is being comfortable with yourself. I know I'm awesome (just telling the truth). There is someone out there equally awesome who will appreciate my awesomeness.

And dinosaurs. He'll have to appreciate dinosaurs.

The photo that got the likes.

Unintentional Freddy Krueger

Fall is my absolute favorite season. The crisp air screams possibility. I love that I can start wear my favorite sweaters and scarves but that it's still warm enough for just a light jacket. Of course there's also candy corn and apples and a small amount of pumpkin flavored things (I prefer pumpkin cookies and pie - that's it). I've been looking forward to getting my crock-pot out so I can make stews and soups and what about casseroles!? It's perfect casserole weather. My favorite holidays, Halloween and Thanksgiving, are just around the corner. They always seem to get the short shrift as Christmas creeps into our lives earlier and earlier every year. I know Christmas can't help itself but we can all play our parts in keeping the madness at bay. I bought some new Halloween kitchen towels and a skull cup from Target earlier this week. The skull cup looks nice on my desk at work.

It's unfortunate that our first truly fall like weekend happens to be accompanied by the impending doom of Hurricane Joaquin. I'd like to believe that this weekend will just be a weekend of rain and heavier than normal wind rather than a full out hurricane. Regardless of which weather event actually occurs, I decided it would be best if I focused on the positive side of needing to spend the majority of my time indoors this weekend. There are only 29 days left until Halloween and we have lots of movies to watch.  And frankly, 13 Nights of Halloween just aren't enough.

Three years ago I wrote a post centered on my favorite Halloween movies. I suggested 50 whole movies to get you through until Halloween. This year I thought I'd help you create the ultimate movie marathon by suggesting groupings of these movies. I like a little bit of everything when it comes to scary movies and more family friendly seasonal fare. In addition to the list of movies let's rejoice in the return of American Horror Story and the premiere of The Evil Dead tv series on Starz (on Halloween of course).

What do you need to really enjoy a fall movie marathon? Popcorn, Twizzlers (never Red Vines - we're not animals), wine (your choice), and a pillow to hide your eyes behind if you're so inclined.

Let's begin...

Sleeping with the Lights on for the Rest of the Week - these are serious horror films that involve exorcism, creepy little girls, and a clown. Just remember I warned you.

• The Exorcist
• The Shining
• IT
• Carrie (mostly because of the creepy Jesus statue and the very end of the movie)

Funny and Mostly Family Friendly Fare - I know Raul Julia is no longer with us but what do you think it would take to get another Addams Family movie? We could pick up with Wednesday as an adult or maybe Morticia has finally been able to join the dark forces' hellish crusade.

• The Addams Family 
• Addams Family Values (although this really is more of a Thanksgiving movie)
• The Worst Witch
• Hocus Pocus
• Haunted Honeymoon
• Coraline
• ParaNorman (although this movie is a bit scarier than I expected)

Tim Burton's Brain - Some of my favorite movies are Tim Burton movies.

• Corpse Bride
• Beetlejuice
• The Nightmare Before Christmas
• Edward Scissorhands 
• Frankenweenie
• Sleepy Hollow

Old School Villains - I bought a sweater this week that unintentionally evokes the image of Freddy Krueger. It's my new favorite sweater.

• Halloween
• The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
• Nightmare of Elm Street
• Friday the 13th
• The Mummy, Dracula, Bride of Frankenstein, The Wolfman (old school Universal creature features)

Cult Classics - None of these are particularly scary (although Near Dark and Repulsion are close) but they're all awesome.

• Rocky Horror Picture Show
• Cat People 
• Freaks
• Near Dark
• Repulsion
• Evil Dead trilogy 

 Creepy Not Scary - You can also add any other movie Vincent Price was in. He was never overtly scary, just creepy and sinister.

• The People Under the Stairs
• The Haunting (1963)
• Rosemary's Baby
• Let the Right One In
• House on Haunted Hill (1959)
• The Others

I've provided six movie marathons to get you started. Add more to the comments because yes, I've left off almost every vampire movie ever made, Ghostbusters, and Child's Play. Don't get mad, give suggestions. If these weren't enough Crimson Peak opens October 16th. I'm not saying I took the day off to go see it but I did take the day off so I should probably use that time wisely and go see this movie. That's really all that makes sense. 
 

Unintentional Freddy Krueger sweater - do you think I should use this on my online dating profile with that caption?

Hurricane Joaquin

This is 83

I have several concert goals in life: seeing the remaining living members of Led Zeppelin play together one more (last?) time, not getting boxed out of tickets to The Replacements (sadly, this happened already and no plans for a future tour), sitting as close as possible to the stage for a David Bowie show, and seeing my musical icons, Loretta Lynn, Patti Smith, and Liz Phair in concert (not together although that would be amazing).

Last night I checked another of the goals off the list: seeing Loretta Lynn in concert (I've seen Patti Smith too). Loretta is currently on tour and celebrating her 54th year of performing. She stopped in DC to play a little show at the Lincoln Theater. It was an interesting and odd concert but always enjoyable. Loretta sounds exactly like she always has; strong voice, sassy, and ready to knock you down if you even think about stealing her man. Time has been kind to her voice which is not always true of lifelong performers.

I've always liked Loretta Lynn. I don't know if it was my grandfather's influence (he was a rabid country music fan later in life) or the influence of growing up in the south that brought me to her. Classic country and honky tonk songs are incredibly appealing; there's great storytelling, clear voices, and attitude that I think more modern (and I include most country from the 80s in this category) country music lacks. It's not to stay that there aren't talented country artists today; I just don't listen to them (except the Dixie Chicks). Loretta Lynn's music is a lot of things: funny, feminist (more on this in a few minutes), heartfelt, and above all identifiable. She sang about her life and her love and the things she saw around her. You always knew that Loretta wouldn't take crap from anyone and that she'd fight for what was hers even if it might not always be worth keeping. That's the kind of woman she is.

In 2004, Loretta teamed up with another favorite of mine, Jack White, for Van Lear Rose. She wrote or co-wrote every song on the album. After its release, I spent the better part of a year listening to Van Lear Rose, The White Stripes Elephant, and Green Day's American Idiot in heavy rotation. Sometimes I still listen to these three albums in a row; makes me feel good about life. Van Lear Rose is amazing; beautiful and rock and roll and quintessential Loretta Lynn. Hipster cool kids "discovered" Loretta and were entranced by her stories and her voice. The hipsters occasionally get things right.

I missed her on the last few tours she's done and literally (ask Pumpkin) freaked out when I found out that she was going to be playing at the Lincoln Theater yesterday. I bought two tickets almost immediately after they went on sale. I asked my mom to go with me; who better to see Loretta Lynn with than your mama?

Some highlights from the evening:

• The opening act was The Von Trapps, the great-grandchildren of the Captain and Maria. They are exactly what you would expect the Von Trapp great-grandchildren to be. They did a lovely rendition of "Dream a Little Dream" and a random version of the national anthem of Rwanda, "Rwanda Nziza". Apparently, they were invited to Rwanda and sang this for President Kagame. He enjoyed their rendition so much that he gave August Von Trapp a cow.
• Of course, The Von Trapps ended with "Edelweiss" because Von Trapps.
• Three of Loretta's children, Ernie, Peggy, and Patsy, are part of her band. Ernie plays guitar and all three sing a few songs before their mother comes on. Peggy and Patsy are her youngest, the twins, and Patsy is named for Patsy Cline. All three are talented but I can't help but think that if their mother wasn't Loretta Lynn, they may not have had much of a country career.
• Loretta dresses like the lady she is. This time, a pink number, sparkly and lovely. I can't help but think that it must weigh a ton. 
• My uncle mentioned that she tends to forget the lyrics to songs. I would too if I had released 114 records (#115 is due out this year) with countless hits and I was 83 years old. The only time it was evident was when she sang "Portland Oregon" from Van Lear Rose. She and a member of her band were singing it together and they both forgot the second verse. She did enough of it to make everyone happy and made a little joke about not knowing where Jack was, pausing like he was going to appear to sing with her. 
• She sang three songs that were (and still are to some extent) considered among her most controversial, "Dear Uncle Sam", "The Pill", and "One's On the Way." Loretta had around fourteen songs banned from country radio over the years and they were all one's that dealt with the topics of the day and in several cases, bordered on or were, feminist in theme. "Dear Uncle Sam" is about a woman who opposes the draft during the Vietnam War; "The Pill" is about birth control, and "One's On the Way" is about the struggles of having children for the average or poor woman (she juxtaposes images of Liz Taylor and Jackie Kennedy with a woman in Topeka who has one on the way). Other songs like "Wings Upon Your Horns" (teen girl loses her virginity) and "Rated X" (doubled standard faced by divorced woman), were among others that were banned. I was disappointed that she didn't play "Rated X".
• "You Ain't Woman Enough" was great - this was the first number one song penned by a female country artist (in 1966). She also sang another favorite, "Don't Come Home a Drinkin' (With Lovin' On Your Mind)" was also great to hear. 
• Poor Loretta had the worst time on stage. Apparently, the ragweed in the area hit her hard last night. She spent most of the concert wiping her eyes and nose. We all felt really bad for her. 
• My mom's first Uber experience - I didn't want to drive to U Street and my mom doesn't always do well on Metro so we took Uber. Both of our drivers were excellent and there was no wait. We had a nice conversation with the second driver; she was lovely and drives for Uber in her spare time (she's a realtor).

Loretta ended with "Coal Miner's Daughter" probably one of her best known and one of my favorite songs. It was a fitting end to a great show and a great night out with my mom. If you get a chance to see her on this tour, do it. If not, go ahead and watch Sissy Spacek as Loretta in Coal Miner's Daughter and then watch countless hours of Loretta videos on YouTube. It's a great way to spend an evening.

Van Lear Rose

Lazy Movie Weekend: Little did he know...

I suspect that I may not be the only person to wonder, on occasion, if I am living in a comedy or tragedy. It's an easy road to go down: have a string of bad days or unpleasant events occur regularly, you might think tragedy is following you. I'm guessing there are also people who experience the kind of tragedy only found in Greek drama or Shakespeare. Conversely, when everything is going well and there's a hint of fun and lightness in life, then maybe just maybe this life is comedy. Personally, I think I'd prefer my life to be a musical comedy. So many things would be more entertaining if I could sing and dance about them.

I've been thinking about comedy and tragedy lately. There are two reasons for this:

1. It's that time of the year where things change rather rapidly at work and there's an air of mystery and "intrigue" as people move around (promotions, new jobs, etc.) that often feels very cinematic and clandestine.
2. Earlier this month, I started prepping for National Novel Writing Month. My last two NaNoWriMo novels have been my version of romantic comedies. I don't know that I want to write a tragedy but my idea for this year could lead me down that road. However, I feel very strongly that I am not a dramatic, tragic writer.

With these things in mind, I decided to focus this week's Lazy Movie Weekend on a movie that gets right to the heart of life as comedy or tragedy. What would happen if one day you woke up and began hearing the a voice narrating your life? Grab your thimbles and Socialist reading materials and settle in for 2006's Stranger Than Fiction.

• This movie boasts and impressive cast: Dustin Hoffman, Emma Thompson, Queen Latifah, Tom Hulce, Maggie Gyllenhaal, and Will Ferrell. It's the least Will Ferrell movie you'll ever see. It's also my favorite of his (yes, I love this movie more than Elf).
• What's most impressive about the beginning is that the narration doesn't seem out of place. It's just narration, a standard dramatic device used in countless films. Watching Harold (Ferrell) realize that the narration is happening is wonderful to watch.
• Fun fact: All of the characters' last names are inspired by famous mathematicians, scientists, philosophers, or artists (Crick, Eiffel, Pascal, Escher, etc.). There's also a running visual reference to Rene Magritte's painting "Son of Man." 
• Harold is an auditor for the IRS. Absolutely makes sense.
• Two of Harold's co-workers are the guys from all the Sonic commercials. 
• Visually, the film is incredibly interesting. The watch/clock motif is used throughout (since Harold's watch will change the course of his life) and the settings, the apartments, the college campus, the bus, are all fun to watch. It was filmed in Chicago.
• Buster Bluth! Dave is Harold's only friend and has a dream of going to space camp. Don't we all Dave?
• Enter Emma Thompson (Karen), Queen Latifah (Penny), and Maggie Gyllenhaal (Ana). I question how Penny got into Karen's apartment (did she have keys?) and Ana's story about how she got into Harvard Law. 
• Karen: "I don't know how to kill Harold Crick."
• Linda Hunt as the psychologist. Instead medicating or committing Harold, she suggests he go talk to a literature professor since Harold believes that he is hearing narration not going crazy. SeeIms legit.
•  "I'm not an expert in crazy. I'm an expert in literary theory." I love Dustin Hoffman's Professor Hilbert. He goes from no interest in Harold to fervent interest in 10 seconds. All because of the narrator's choice of the phrase "little did he know" in her narration. He's written papers on "little did he know." A nice wink to the over-analysis of some academics.
• "I left my thimbles and Socialist reading materials at home." Harold's attempt to flirt with Ana, the owner of the bakery that he is currently auditing. This is one of my favorite lines of the movie. 
• Professor Hilbert devises a questionnaire to determine the type of story that Harold is in. There are twenty-three questions (another math reference) including, "Are you the king of anything?" and "Have you met anyone recently who might loathe the very core of you?" From these questions, we learn that Harold is not in a fairy tale, Scout Finch, any number of Shakespearean characters, or a Golem.
• "Let's start at ridiculous and move backwards." Excellent life advice.
• I like the idea that Ana would like to make the world a better place through cookies. That's probably one of the better ideas I've ever heard. 
• Professor Hilbert tells Harold to go live his life. He believes Harold has never really done this so Harold does. He lives his life: buys a guitar and learns one song, stops wearing ties, and falls in love. He should have eaten nothing but pancakes as the professor suggested. 
• The whole sequence in the guitar store is genius.
• Harold brings Ana flours! What a delightful play on words. I love this scene.
  
  
  
  
  

• Of course just as Harold's begins to live his life, he figures out who the author is narrating his ultimate demise. Professor Hilbert's reaction: "She kills people." 
• I appreciate Harold using his IRS power for good to find Karen Eiffel. I also like the use of payphones and landlines in this movie. Cell phones weren't as ubiquitous in 2006. It's refreshing. 
• This movie brings up so many questions: What would you do if you were a character in someone's novel? How would you deal with knowing that the author was going to kill you in the novel which would mean you would die in real life? If someone told you, "You have to die. It's her masterpiece?" would you go on with it or punch the person in the throat?
• It's amazing to me that Karen gives Harold the book in the first place. If your hero all of the sudden appeared in the flesh and asked you not to kill him, would you give him the novel? 
• I won't reveal the ending because that would spoil the whole thing but I'll leave you with this: Harold's watch does, in fact, save the day.

There are so many wonderful and magical moments in this movie. Every time I watch it, I find something else I didn't notice during my previous viewing. Harold is a little bit of all of us; stuck in his day to day, believing that life is just the number of steps from bus stop to office door or the brushstrokes when brushing his teeth. We can choose to continue counting or go learn to play the guitar. I don't know that I've solved my novel conundrum but I can be soothed with this line from Professor Hilbert, "The hero dies but the story lives on forever."

This is the song Harold learns to play:

Flours
Tragedy
Guitar

Writing Date Day, Part Two: Al's Place

Al's Place

Driving from Seattle to New Orleans sounded like a good idea at the time. The wedding dress wouldn’t have survived a flight even if I had carried it on. I couldn’t let a plane ride ruin the dress I had worked on for almost a year. Truth is I really like road trips. The music, car snacks, stopping at weird places along the way; all of it appealed to me in a way air travel never did. Maybe it’s the hopeless romantic in me.

Twenty hours is a long time to drive by yourself. My musical companions, Bowie, Lou, Metallica, and girl groups from the 80s, were started to lose their magical touch. I needed to stop again soon or I’d never make it to my hotel. Originally I thought I’d drive the thirty eight hours straight but then I realized I’m not that crazy or stupid. My hotel was just over the Colorado/New Mexico border. I was about three hours away but I needed a break. Badly.

As if the road trip gods were listening to my inner monologue, a sign appeared on the side of the road for Al’s Place. It was at the next exit and it was open all night. Diner food sounded like heaven at 2 am.

Al’s Place was the only thing I could see as I exited the highway. Bright lights shone on the building and a huge sign took up most of the sky. The sign had a 60s vibe to it and it moved. The figure on the sign, Al I’m guessing, had mechanical arms that were moving as if to flip a pancake. This place was going to be amazing. Maybe I could find some kitschy souvenirs for my friends. They’d love this place.

The first steps after sitting for so long were agony. I walked around the parking lot a bit to wake up my limbs. I took a few pictures of the sign and posted them to Instagram with my road trip hashtag. All of my friends were using it as we made our way to New Orleans for the wedding. It was going to be an epic “photo album” for Stewart and Janie.

There were a surprising number of cars in the parking lot. Given the hour, I figured they were either desperate travelers like me or people who worked night shifts or really early morning shifts. We weren’t that far from Pueblo, CO so maybe they were all on their way there. A friendly waitress named Marge seated me at a booth by the window. Marge looked exactly like a diner waitress in a movie; a little older, a little tired, and super sassy. She had big blondish teased hair and perfectly applied eye makeup. Her peach colored uniform fit her as if it had been made for her and she wore the kind of sensible shoes I never consider buying. She poured me some coffee and told me she’d be back in a few for my order.

The menu was huge like most diner menus; a little bit of breakfast and lunch and a dessert menu that rivaled any I’d seen before. I opted for my standard diner order of pecan pancakes and bacon. Marge brought me orange juice even though I didn’t order it. She said it was good for me.

I’m the kind of person who likes going to restaurants alone. I like to people watch and diners are perfect places for people watching. Especially at 2 am in the middle of nowhere Colorado. The diner was pretty large and old fashioned in the way diners tend to be. I guessed it looked like this the day it opened. The other patron even looked a bit old fashioned, not out of place just worn. There wasn’t anyone near me; most people were seated around the counter or across the room along the side window. There was a family of five eating in a corner booth. The youngest child had made a mess of his scrambled eggs and his parents looked too tired to care. His siblings, a boy and a girl around 9 or 10, were blowing straw papers at each other. Behind them was a table of guys in work boots and coveralls. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but I matched them with the big truck in the parking lot with Marvin’s Repairs painted on the side. They were all enjoying dessert, pie if I wasn’t mistaken. The rest of the people around the counter were your typical late night diner crowd. There were quiet conversations, lots of coffee refills, and the constant call of food orders. It was all very soothing.

Marge refilled my coffee and promised my food would be right out. As she stepped away from my table, I noticed another single diner across the room from me, staring out the side window. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him. He looked so familiar but I couldn’t place him. I didn’t know anyone in Colorado so it was strange. I couldn’t figure it out and I didn’t want to be that person who creepily started at another person at a diner at 2 am. Nothing good ever came out of being that person. I distracted myself with browsing on my phone until my food arrived. I dug in as soon as Marge placed the plate in front of me. I am not exaggerating that these were the best pecan pancakes I have ever eaten. The syrup was homemade and the combination of that with the pecans hit the spot after a long day of driving.

I noticed that the man across the room had a guitar and was getting ready to play something. It wasn’t anything I recognized and no one seemed to mind his playing. Scrambled Egg Kid stopped making a mess and focused entirely on the man and his guitar. The workers finished up their pie and sat back to listen. I had never been to a diner with live music before. It seemed to make absolute sense. I took a few covert pictures of the guy. I didn’t think any of my friends would believe me when I told the story later.

He kept playing softly but loud enough that I could hear him across the diner and above the din of food orders and forks scraping on plates. He played a bit of everything, classic rock, country, and an acoustic version of “London Calling.” He even threw in a stripped down version of “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” He never sang, just played the songs.

Marge came back to check on me.

“Who is that guy? Does he play here all the time?” I asked as she refilled my coffee cup.

“The guitar guy? I think his name is John or Jim. He comes in every now and then late at night or early in the morning and plays for bit. Doesn’t bother anyone so we let him do it. People think he’s someone famous but I don’t know. Can I get you anything else?”

“I think I’d like a slice of cherry pie. I shouldn’t have it but I will anyway.”

“Always eat dessert honey, life is too short.”

I didn’t really need the pie but I wanted to stay and watch Guitar Guy more. No one else seemed like were leaving anytime soon and I didn’t want to be the one to break the spell. I posted a photo of him to my friends with the following caption “Guitar Guy at a diner in the middle of nowhere. What are the odds? #stu&janegethitched”

As I started in on my pie, a few comments came in on my picture. My friend Marnie thought the guy looked familiar too, “Is that that “musician” you dated in college? LOL!” Another friend asked if I was bringing him to the wedding. It was the third comment that stopped me mid-bite, “Doesn’t he look like a bit like Jim Morrison?” That was it! That was who this guy reminded me of; he looked a lot like Jim Morrison. He was dressed like the Val Kilmer version of Jim Morrison but with facial hair. He wasn’t old enough to actually be Jim Morrison (if you were one of those people who believed Morrison was dead). Guitar Guy could be his son.

He looked at me at this exact moment. He didn’t stop playing. He nodded his head as if to say, “I get that all the time.” I didn’t know what to do except smile. He went back to playing and I quickly finished my pie and paid my bill. It was time to get back on the road. I left a tip for Marge and took one last look around the diner. The magic of the moment seemed to have passed; Scrambled Egg Kid was throwing eggs again and the workers were paying their bill. Guitar Guy finished his last song as I walked out the door.

I got back into my car, popped in a Doors CD, and made my way back to the highway. I could see the lights from Al’s Place in my rearview mirror for about mile down the highway. Jim Morrison sang “Roadhouse Blues”. I knew in my heart that Guitar Guy was not Jim Morrison but the possibility of it would keep me awake for a few more hours. Maybe all the way to New Orleans.

Based on the prompt: You've been on the road driving for almost twenty hours. At 2 am you drive up to a restaurant that's open all night. Describe the experience and the people you see.  From 1000 Awesome Writing Prompts by Ryan Andrew Kinder.