Not a-Mused Anymore

My Muse can bite me.

If she wants to run off and join the Muse circus instead of sit down and write, I’m OK with that now. I can put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard just fine without her.

The writing I do when she runs off and leaves me on my own may not be my best prose. And I may have to bludgeon every word and nail it to the sentence before it regains consciousness and runs away.

But I don’t need her fickle inspiration any more.

Don’t get me wrong. I love it when she grabs my hand and yanks me down some barely perceptible rabbit trail in my imagination. I’ve found all sorts of beautiful, dark or just completely whacked out, mental gardens under her (mis)guidance.

But I’ve also found that sort of inspiration on my own by taking a machete to the weeds of my mind and hacking my own path to those enchanted forests of ideas. It just takes a little longer and I tend to leave a pile of kindling and uprooted trees behind me.

I admit that writing tends to go a little faster, smoother, when she’s around. I seem to know exactly what to say and how to say it. But now when she takes off for parts unknown, leaving my word-well high and dry, I pull out her clunky cousins; Dictionary and Thesaurus.

Between the three of us, we can usually find a suitable turn of phrase. And if we can’t, I step away for a few minutes and sharpen my mental machete on some logic problems. When I return to the work-in-progress, the Muse is either back or I’m capable of plodding along well enough on my own.

Though I’ll always welcome my Muse on my creative adventures, she’s no longer in charge of the journey. We’re sharing the reins now.

So get on the horse, honey, or get out of the way. There’s writing to be done.

Christmas Memories

My favorite part of Christmas has always been family gatherings. The bigger the gathering, the better in my book. I think this stems from the fact that Christmas was a huge affair when I was little.

We spent Christmas with my dad’s family. He’s one of five children, so holidays at my grandmother’s house were loud; full of love, laughter and food. (And I’ll never figure out how she managed to cook all of that food in her tiny kitchen.)

Our Christmas celebrations started on Christmas Eve. After a delicious fish dinner prepared by my grandmother, the whole family piled into the living-room to exchange gifts. (My gifts usually involved the two most important “B’s” in my little girl life: Barbies and Books.) Then we’d head home where my parents probably had a heck of a time getting my sister and I tucked into bed.

Christmas day brought gifts from Santa (and occasionally, Rudolph) and a morning of church. Then, back to grandma’s for what can only be described as a feast: Soups, salads, pasta, meat, veggies, cookies, pies and cool whip.

Then the family spent the rest of the day there playing, napping, eating again, watching t.v. and just enjoying being together.

When I think of Christmas, these memories of family gatherings are what come to mind first. When I first moved away from Rhode Island, I missed those gatherings terribly. But I started creating other, new memories in my new home. And now that I have kids, I get to help them create great memories of Family and Christmas.

Feel free to share your favorite Christmas (or the holiday of your religion) memories!

New Culinary Love

I’m part Italian. I love pasta and when asked about my all-time favorite food, I still say “my grandmother’s homemade meatballs.”

Needless to say, giving up pasta dishes was probably one of the hardest things about going gluten free.

Whole grain pasta dishes made up at least a third of my diet. If I’d had a sucktastic day and was too tired to cook what I’d planned on for that night, out came the Barilla Penne. The whole “no wheat, rye, barley, semolina…” thing kicked my go-to dishes out the proverbial kitchen window.

I had to find a new go-to dish, pronto.

Enter brown basmati rice and the rich flavors of India.

I have to credit my husband for my first taste of the goodness that is Indian cuisine. He loves Indian food and I’d always been afraid to try it due to my twitchy stomach. So for one of our first dates two years ago, he took me to this great little hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant here in town. There I got my first, gentle introduction to Chicken Tikka Masala. I still order that same dish every time we eat there.

What was once an occasional culinary treat is my new last minute meal savior. Now when I need a quick meal, I break out my brown basmati rice, a thing of chicken breast, some veggies and a couple packets of Sukhi’s Vindaloo or Tikka Masala sauce.

Dinner is served in less than 45 minutes.

I still miss pasta and someday, I’ll find a brand of gluten free pasta that I like.

But for now, I’ve found a new culinary love: Indian food.

Highlights

I read a lot. I can easily read two novels a day. Books are almost an addiction. If I didn’t have a family, I’d probably skip two meals a day and spend my grocery money on books.

Because I run through books like my two teenagers run through the week’s groceries, I’m always on the lookout for new authors to read. And thanks to Twitter, my reading appetite has a constant source of nourishment.

When I finally decided to check out the social media time-suck of Twitter, I started off by following my favorite authors. Then I checked out the authors they followed (or who followed them). I’ve found so many new authors to read, my Kindle and my bank account are considering an intervention.

I told both of them to chill. That all of the books I buy are research (ahem) so I can share my finds with all of my reader friends.

So today, I’m highlighting five of the Urban Fantasy (UF) and Paranormal Romance (PnR) authors I’ve found thanks to Twitter. Click on the author’s names to check out their websites and find out more about their books! (And if you could, tell my Kindle I shared so it doesn’t go on strike?)

  1. Mandy M. Roth and Michelle Pillow: I’m highlighting Ms. Roth and Ms. Pillow together because they are also the creative force behind The Raven Books, an independent publisher. You can find their titles (and others) by going through the Raven’s website, their own websites, and of course through Amazon.com. Their stories have elements of fantasy, science fiction, history and even suspense. “Immortal Ops” by Mandy M. Roth and “Phantom of the Night” by Michelle Pillow were the first two books by these ladies that I’ve read and I have quite a few more on my “to be read” list.
  2. I found Moira Rogers through a series of re-tweets. Happy day for me! I’m pretty sure I bought “Cry Sanctuary: Red Rock Pass” that same day. So far, this is the only one I’ve read. But the characters and story were so likable, I immediately added the rest of this series to my wish list.
  3. Allison Pang‘s debut book “A Brush of Darkness” hit the shelves earlier this year and is a fun urban fantasy. It’s got hot shape-shifters and a full cast of supernatural beings, a miniature unicorn with an unnatural affection for underwear, and bacon. Don’t tell my Kindle, but I’ve pre-ordered Ms. Pang’s second book, “A Sliver of Shadow.”
  4. Finally on today’s list of highlights is Carrie Ann Ryan, who’s debut book “An Alpha’s Path” hit Amazon at the beginning of this month. An uptight chemist and an overworked alpha werewolf are set up on a blind date. When Kade (the alpha) realizes his date is actually his mate, he has to convince her to turn off her analytical brain and listen to her heart. Ms. Ryan has at least two more books in this series in the works and both are on my wish list.

That’s just five of the authors I’ve found. I have so many more on my list. Next month I’ll share some of the mystery authors I’ve run across, so come back and check them out too.

And feel free to share some of your finds in the comments below!

The Closet Crybaby

I know that I’ll use my blog as a vehicle to vent my frustrations regarding the trials and tribulations of parenthood. But, I also want to make sure that I use it to share some of the pride and joy my kids bring to my life as well. And, you know, brag on them a bit at times.

I’m a crybaby. A big one.

I discovered my sniveling status about a decade ago during a presentation on the rainforest my oldest son (codename: Connor) delivered to his first grade class. The look of horror on his face when he realized it was actually his mother sniffling in the middle of the audience was enough to shame me into trying to keep my waterworks to myself from then on.

But I still have them. I can’t help it. I tear up whenever I experience strong emotions. Pride being one of those.

And this past week of school band performances thoroughly tested my ability to keep my sniffles and tears hidden.

Alan's first music performance.My first challenge? Alan’s very first music concert with his band class. For a group of kids who’d never touched an instrument until four months ago, they sounded all right!

At least, it no longer sounded like a squirrel farm undergoing a painful, mass-suicide ritual. (I’m sorry, but a beginner instrument, especially the trumpet, can sound harsh at first.)

The kids and their band director worked hard all fall. For their first public concert, they treated the proud parents in the audience to classics like “London Bridge” and “Jingle Bells” as well as “My Dredel.” I did great keeping the sniffles in check all the way up to their finale; Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.”

Yes. A few tears of joy escaped. And a sniffle or ten. Connor, sitting next to me, pretended not to notice (as I pretended not to notice him rolling his eyes at me).

The marching band performs "Rocky Point Holiday."Then it was his turn to challenge my anti-sniffle ability. He performed in two of the pieces during his school’s two and a half hour Performing Arts Winter Showcase (PAWS for short).

Thankfully, it was dark in the auditorium during the concert band’s performance of “Undertow” by John Mackey. I easily hid my red nose and watery eyes. Hiding them during the marching band’s performance of “Rocky Point Holiday” was a bit more of a struggle.

For one thing, the lights were on. For another, the marching band surrounds the entire audience and a couple of his friends were standing right next to me. The pressure to not cry was fierce! I ended up hiding behind my camera phone, taking pictures. Surprisingly, the pictures turned out OK.

So my readers, Connor and Alan especially, if you ever see me sitting in the very back of the auditorium, or suddenly studying my phone, hands, or shoe-laces, it’s not because I’m bored or not paying attention.

It’s so you won’t see me shedding those tears of pride in my seat.