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Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

            “Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a book.” — Cicero, 106-43 BC

Maggie, sadly, has left this world. I couldn't, however, have had a better companion to explore this country with than this spoiled brat -- and I say that lovingly, and all who knew her would agree with the description. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Maggie, sadly, has left this world. I couldn’t, however, have had a better companion to explore this country with than this spoiled brat — and I say that lovingly, and all who knew her would agree with the description. — Photo by Pat Bean

Step by Step

I laughed out loud when I read the above quote, which started off a recent Blood Red Pencil blog http://tinyurl.com/m33au3r  that I often read because it usually has a lot of good advice about writing.

Gypsy Lee, Me and Maggie's home for eight years. Pepper was my companion for the final year of my living on the road life style. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Gypsy Lee, Me and Maggie’s home for eight years. Pepper was my companion for the final year of my living on the road life style. — Photo by Pat Bean

Today’s was especially meaningful, as I have completed my book, “Travels with Maggie,” and now want to self-publish it. I’ve not been doing anything toward this goal for the past six weeks, sort of like that person who is just one class short of earning a college degree, but then drops out of school.

Come to think of it, I have two other books I’ve written that went no farther than a first draft. “Travels with Maggie,” however, has now had three rewrites, and I feel good about the content

So I’m going to take the advice given in the Blood-Red Pencil blog to do one thing every day toward getting my book published and marketed. Actually this is a pretty good goal for any project.

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: The Wanderlust Gene http://tinyurl.com/nx9qv3m  If you love trees, you’ll love this blog.

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  “Often while reading a book one feels that the author would have preferred to paint rather than write, one can sense the pleasure he derives from describing a landscape or a person, as if he were painting what he is saying…” – Pablo Picasso

The Vermillion Cliffs in Northern Arizona is part of the Mongollon Rim. -- Photo by Pat Bean

The Vermillion Cliffs in Northern Arizona is part of the Mongollon Rim. — Photo by Pat Bean

The Mongollom Rim

            I don’t quite agree with Picasso’s reasoning. While I do think of painting a landscape when I’m writing, I’m totally satisfied doing it with words. But then finding the right words to let a reader see a specific place never comes easy – at least it doesn’t for me. And reading about a place in a book often never satisfies me.

Oak Creek Canyon, which follows the Mongollom Rim between Flagstaff and Sedona, Arizonia. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Oak Creek Canyon, which follows the Mongollom Rim between Flagstaff and Sedona, Arizona. — Photo by Pat Bean

Take this morning, for example. I was reading a chapter in “The Desert Southwest: Four Thousand Years of Life and Art,” and within a few sentences, authors Allan and Carol Hayes, mention the Mongollom Rim, the 38th Parallel (which of course made me think of the Korean conflict dividing line) and the Tropic of Cancer.

Now while all three terms were familiar to me, I didn’t know exactly how their locations were being used in reference to the American Southwest. Having a mind that must be satisfied, I did a bit of research.

First I found a map that followed the 38th Parallel around the world, and learned that it bisected the United States north of San Francisco, south of St. Louis and south of Washington D.C.

Next I refreshed my memory on the Tropic of Cancer, which bisects Mexico south of the U.S. border, and relearned that it is the circle of latitude on Earth that marks the most northerly position at which the Sun may appear directly overhead at its zenith. This imaginary line is called the Tropic of Cancer because when the Sun reaches the zenith at this latitude, it is entering the tropical sign of Cancer.

So from this, I knew the area referred to in the book was located south of San Francisco and north of Baja California Sur.

I knew more about the Mongollom Rim because of my travels across this country, and knew I had crossed it quite a few times, but didn’t remember exactly where. The rim is the edge of the Colorado Plateau, and often the dividing line between landscapes below 5,000 feet and above 8,000 feet. Pin-pointing the rim on a map, I realized I had recently followed along it when I drove from Phoenix to Flagstaff on Highway 17.

And now you know what my wondering-wandering brain was up to this morning.

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat:  Losing Leroy http://tinyurl.com/pteym6y I once met Leroy. And this blog brought tears to my eyes – but joy, too. My mother

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“Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don’t turn up at all.” – Sam Ewing

“Weakness of attitude becomes weakness of character.” – Albert Einstein

My mother riding on the back of my brother's motorcycle when she was in her 70s. She was a real character, worthy of being a role mode for my fictional characters.

My mother riding on the back of my brother’s motorcycle when she was in her 70s. She was a real character, worthy of being a role model for my fictional characters.

Thinking About Creating Them

Back in my early teen years, I thought the way to be liked was to be nice and smile all the time. And it worked. But over the years, it turned me into a thin character, one whom people may have liked, but gained me little respect.

I love Maxine's character. Don't you?

I love Maxine’s character. Don’t you?

It took my mother, a feisty, plain spoken, quick-tempered, cigarette smoking (until she quit cold turkey at the age of 76 because the “damn” things became too expensive), to make me look at things differently. My kids adored her, and I had to wonder why.

It was her rough edges. And so, while I’m still nice and do smile

One of my favorite characters was Molly Ivins Now that's whom I would like to grow up to be.

One of my favorite characters was Molly Ivins Now that’s whom I would like to grow up to be.

a lot, I began to let the imperfect edges of my character leak out. I liked it – and evidently so did others because I gained more friends, and one of the nicest compliments I ever received was from a younger friend who told everyone “I want to be just like Pat Bean when I grow up.”

Currently I’m involved in a writing project with my oldest daughter, Deborah. After attending a writing workshop together,about the value of writing 20 minutes a day that Len Leatherwood taught during the Story Circle Network conference in Austin last month, we are both doing just that. Her project is a fantasy book that she has been playing around with for years. Mine is also a fantasy book that I’m making up as I go.

To keep us on track, we’ve established a slackers’ jar that is collecting quarters, one for each day one of us doesn’t write on our projects for 20 minutes a day. So far I’ve contributed a $1 to the jar, and my daughter only one quarter. She is also writing more in her 20 minutes a day than I am.

Right now I’m stuck on giving my characters character – the same way I was stuck for far too many years giving myself one. Ouch!

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: 20 Minutes a Day http://lenleatherwood.wordpress.com/ Thought you might want to see Len’s blog after I mentioned her. She mostly sits down at the end of her long days and writes whatever pops into her head.. It’s kind of a public diary, but I’ve gotten inspiration from many of those blogs. She is also an illustration, compared to me who must write early in the day or I don’t write, of how different writers write.

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I was driving across West Texas before dawn last month, when the sun began to rise. I stopped on the side of the road to capture it. I drove on with renewed energy and a heart full of thankfulness. -- Photo by Pat Bean

I was driving across West Texas before dawn last month, when the sun began to rise. I stopped on the side of the road to capture it. I drove on with renewed energy and a heart full of thankfulness. — Photo by Pat Bean

“Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.” – Dalai Lama

“A library is not a luxury but one of the necessities of life.” – Henry Ward Beecher

Civilization is the limitless multiplication of unnecessary necessities.” – Mark Twain

These Are Mine

A Southern Idaho sunset.

A Southern Idaho sunset.

My online writing circle’s recent writing prompt was to write about what we considered necessities.

So after taking away air, food, clothing and shelter – which are really the true necessities – I came up with this list:

Sunrises to let me know I’ve survived another day.

Hugs from family and friends.

Interesting conversations from any and all.

Books to make me think or simply escape.

Time to myself to ponder and wonder.

Daily walks to keep my old limbs moving.

Hot baths to ease my old joints and make me feel like I live in luxury.

Art to bring out my creative side.

Travel to explore new places and to learn new things about myself.

Transportation to get from one place to another.

My canine companion, Pepper, to keep me from ever being lonely.

Daily writing, which is as important to me as daily breathing.

Sunsets so I know I’ve made it to the end of the day, and simply because of their wondrous beauty.

Sleep so I can enjoy all of the above.

So do you think I want too much? And what do you consider your necessities?

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: Swimming with Green Sea Turtles http://tinyurl.com/kqqd4gp  I once swam with sea turtles, off Buck Island in the Caribbean. What great memories.

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“A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man’s mind can get both provocation and privacy.” — Edward P. Morgan

“The worth of a book is to be measured by what you can carry away from it.” — James Bryce

Seeing lions in Africa might have been the very first thing I put on my bucket list, thanks to reading Osa Johnson's lion watching stories. And in 2007, I crossed it off what over the years grew to hundreds of things I wanted to do. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Seeing lions in Africa might have been the very first thing I put on my bucket list, thanks to reading Osa Johnson’s lion watching stories. And in 2007, I crossed it off what over the years grew to hundreds of things I wanted to do. — Photo by Pat Bean

The First 10 Books That Popped Into My Head

I’m always coming across best book lists. While they often have many of the same books on them, they also can differ tremendously depending on the genre of the list or the compilers.

Gypsy Lee was my version of Charles Kuralt's "On the Road" RV, which now sits in the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan. -- Photo by Pat Bean.

Gypsy Lee was my version of Charles Kuralt’s “On the Road” RV, which now sits in the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan. — Photo by Pat Bean.

So on reading one of these lists recently, I decided to put together my own list of “10 Books that Influenced my Life.” I came up with the list in just a couple of minutes, and afterwards I could probably have listed another 10 books.

But here is the list of the first thoughts that scrambled through my little grey cells.

“I Married Adventure,” by Osa Johnson. This was the first travel book I ever read, and it gave me my first inkling that I was born with wanderlust in my soul. I checked the book out of the library, from the adult section, when I was about nine years old.

“Forever Amber,” by Kathleen Winsor. I found this book in the bookcase of my grandfather’s book cabinet, the same place I found the works of Shakespeare, Robert Louis Stevenson, James Fennimore Cooper, Charles Dickens, and many more of the classic writers, all of which I read at quite a young age. “Forever Amber” sticks out in my mind because when I reached junior high school,, I overheard a group of girls calling it a “dirty book.” I didn’t know what they meant so I went back and reread it – and still didn’t know what they meant. I was a late bloomer. The book, by the way, would almost get a G rating in today’s world. It was this book, however, that prompted me to never censor books my children read.

And reading about Tim Cahill's outdoor adventures encourage me to seek out my own adventure trails. -- Photo by Pat Bean

And reading about Tim Cahill’s outdoor adventures encourage me to seek out my own adventure trails. — Photo by Pat Bean

“Gone with the Wind,” by Margaret Mitchell. I so loved this book that I read it three times in the same year. Each read gave me a different meaning to the ending. It was this book that taught me that readers put their own interpretations to writing, and that there is more than one interpretation – and not always the one the author visualized.

“Blue Highways,” by William Least Heat Moon, the second most influential travel book I read. It was this author’s van travel that started my own travel dream, which I fulfilled when I spent 9 years living and traveling full-time in my small RV, Gypsy Lee.

“Atlas Shrugged,” by Ayn Rand, Wayne Dyer’s “Your Erroneous Zones,” and “The Women’s Room” by Marilyn French were read at a crucial turning point in my life. From one I learned that there was more than one way of looking at life, and came to the conclusion that the one and just about only true evil was to harm another person. From another, I realized that only I was responsible for my life and what I allowed in it, and from the third I accepted my strong feminine self that social expectations had dampened. As far as forming the core of my being, these three books are significantly responsible.

“The Snow Leopard,” by Peter Matthiessen. This is one of the books that fed my passion for the outdoors, travel and the natural world. It turned me on to environmentalism and gave me a new way of looking at things.

And “On the Road with Charles Kuralt,” and “Road Fever” by Tim Cahill helped define my travel writing style. I wanted to capture both the simplicity and joy of life that Kuralt brought to his writing and TV segments, and I identified with Cahill’s love of the outdoors and adventure and understood his understated sense of humor. I wanted to write like Cahilll, but with a feminine voice and eyes.

Just off the top of your head, what 10 books most influenced your life?

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: Where’s My Backpack, http://tinyurl.com/lkxupke and Incidentally http://tinyurl.com/oyjp95f These two blogs let readers travel from their armchairs, a pastime I indulge in frequently when I’m not actually on the road. The first blog takes you on a walk through Rome, and the other lets you enjoy the beauty of stained class art if you are in the vicinity of Chicago.

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 Goosey goosey gander, Whither shall I wander? Upstairs and downstairs And in my lady’s chamber. There I met an old man Who wouldn’t say his prayers.

So I took him by his left leg And threw him down the stairs.

The stairs went crack, He nearly broke his back. And all the little ducks went, “Quack, quack, quack”

I've taken many a goose photo, but this one taking off ahead of a boat I was in on Lake Pend Oreille in Idaho.  -- Photo by Pat Bean

I’ve taken many a goose photo, but this one taking off ahead of a boat I was in on Lake Pend Oreille in Idaho is one of my favorites.

Are You Good, or Are You Bad?

            You can goose someone, go on a wild goose chase, get goose bumps, or call someone a silly goose.

Canada geese on Lake Walcott in Idaho. Photo by Pat Bean

Canada geese on Lake Walcott in Idaho. Photo by Pat Bean

My brain focused on these goose oddities one delightful morning not too long ago when I watched and listened to a flock of geese, flying their V-wedge formation overhead. While such sights and sounds cleanse my soul of the world’s chaos, it can just as easily send questions pulsing through my brain.

It’s always been such, but these days more of those questions get answered by the magic of the internet.

I didn’t have time to search that particular morning, but I added the word “goose” to my lengthy list of blog ideas. I came across  it again this morning when I was wondering what to post. My 15 minutes of scanning the internet turned up the “Goosey, Goosey Gander” nursery rhyme —  which makes you wonder at the cruelty of nursery rhymes.

More interesting were the goose proverbs I found, like “What is good for the goose is good for the gander,” from America; “ A wild goose never reared a tame gosling,” from Ireland; and “When the goose honk high, fair weather; when the goose honk low, foul weather,” from who knows where.

But my favorite quote, most certainly because I am a writer, was Tom Robbins’ quote: “When I sit down to write, I just let the goose out of the bottle.” – Tom Robbins

So what does the word goose bring to your mind?

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Time Travel Portal http://tinyurl.com/kpb9jkq I once came across my own time travel portal. It was at the Garr Ranch on Antelope Island in Utah. I stepped out a stable door into an orchard that seemed to have nothing to do with the rest of the desert, Great Salt Lake landscape. It was magical.

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“Every human being has hundreds of separate people living under his skin. The talent of a writer is his ability to give them their separate names, identities, personalities and have them relate to other characters living with him.” – Mel Brooks

The original Howdy Doody on exhibit at the Detroit Institute of Pupper Art, -- Wikimedia photo

The original Howdy Doody on exhibit at the Detroit Institute of Pupper Art, — Wikimedia photo

Pufnstuf was the zaniest, and rumors went around that he was a "weed" eater.

Pufnstuf was the zaniest, and rumors went around that he was a “weed” eater.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 And the Brain Starts Rolling

Rocky and Bullwinkle

Rocky and Bullwinkle

           I came across the phrase “Happier than Howdy Doody” this morning, and it sent reams of pictures scampering through my little grey cells.

The always smiling puppet, and his mouthpiece, Buffalo Bob Smith, were one of my first introductions to television. And he stuck around, transforming from black and white to color, long enough for my first child to briefly get acquainted with, too.

But Captain Kangaroo, Bullwinkle and Pufnstuff were the stuff of all my children’s television viewing

1d5312713a44377fda72f4d35e986f61

Captain Kangaroo and friend.

Since I was a stay-at-home-mom until my oldest child was almost 12 that meant they were a part of my life, too.

 

I miss those cartoon characters, and am sorry for all who never got to see them. It was a simpler, gentle time for children’s cartoons.

The Wondering-Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Migrating wood-warblers http://tinyurl.com/k4k8923  For my birder readers, and others who enjoy a reason to smile like Howdy Doody, take a closer look at those little birds flying around. They’re not all the same.

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“Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.” Oprah Winfrey

My friend Kim sent me this recently on my Facebook timeline. Oh how I wish I could. -- Unknown source

My friend Kim sent me this recently on my Facebook timeline. Oh how I wish I could. — Unknown source

My Female Soul Mates

While I have no biological sisters, I am blessed to have women friends who fill the lack.

First there is Kim, the one who personally knows all the skeletons in my closet, and with whom I’ve shared many an outdoor adventure. We met as work colleagues who had nothing in common. It took a few after work drinks and a crazy, wild rafting trip for us to bond, but then it was us against the world.

Some of my writing sisters during the recent Story Circle Network. -- Smart Phone photo taken by another sister.

Some of my writing sisters during the recent Story Circle Network. — Smart Phone photo taken by another sister.

While I never seemed to choose a male who completed me, Kim was the perfect fit for all my flaws. We’re as different as lemons and chocolate, and each of our strengths cover the other’s flaws.

It was she who sent me the above poster, and if I lived closer now than 800 miles from her, you better believe I would have taken her up on the request. Instead I’m just remembering such escapes as getting lost in Nine Mile Canyon, coming eyeball to eyeball with an elephant, conquering Lunch Counter Rapid in high water, and making it to the top of Angel’s Landing during a snowstorm.

Then there is my friend, Kris, whom I met and played with during the two years I lived in Twin Falls. She and I sometimes go five years between visits, but easily pick up right where we left off when we do get together.

And in recent years, I have found online sisters who share my writing passion through Story Circle Network. I recently got to get together with them in Austin.

Could I be any more blessed?

The Wondering-Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: Indian Wells Canyon http://tinyurl.com/qby2ped Texas has her bluebonnets, but awesome wildflowers at this time of year are not confined to the Lone Star state. Thanks to this blogger I get to see some of them.

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Lake Powell, the setting for Nevada Barr's "The Rope," and one of my favorite places. -- Photo by Pat Bean.

Lake Powell, the setting for Nevada Barr’s “The Rope,” and one of my favorite places. — Photo by Pat Bean.

            “Uncertainty and mystery are energies of life. Don’t let them scare you unduly, for they keep boredom at bay and spark creativity.” – R. I. Fitzhenry

“The Rope”

I love Nevada Barr’s books. Not only is she a good writer, but I always learn something new about the places I love, this country’s wild lands  and our national parks.

Lone Rock at Lake Powell: I camped in sight of this rock on a Lake Powell beach the first night of my RV travels back in 20004. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Lone Rock at Lake Powell: I camped in sight of this rock on a Lake Powell beach the first night of my RV travels back in 20004. — Photo by Pat Bean

Her books have taken me from Texas’ Guadalupe Mountains to the South’s Natchez Trace, and from Yosemite’s high country to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty – and lots of other places in between.

But Nevada’s writing has a dark side to it. You can expect, at least somewhere in the book, to find her leading lady  in a deadly place that leaves her body ravished to the near point of death. The scenes fit her fictional character, Anna Pigeon, who is on the opposite side of the planet from Janet Evanovich’s  fun-loving Stephanie Plum.

While Stephanie’s biggest nemesis is a mother who wants her to settle down and get married and a grandma who gets her kicks at funerals, Anna fights against lost love, alcoholism and depression.

I can read Janet’s books in a day, but Nevada’s get stretched out over many days because I have to stop for a while so I won’t get too caught up in the tension.

Take last night for example, when I settled down with an audible version of Nevada’s “The Rope,” a flashback novel that explains Anna’s National Park Service career beginnings. It starts off very dark. And when I put the book down and fell asleep, I also fell into a nightmare – which thankfully I awoke from before it got too scary.

Wahweap Marina at Lake Powell. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Wahweap Marina at Lake Powell. — Photo by Pat Bean

I admonished myself to stop it, then went back to sleep and had a crazy dream in which I was treated royally at a funky party by a gray-haired, but handsome, Arabian man.  It was definitely more inspired by Stephanie than Anna.

This morning, I listened to a bit more of  “The Rope,” because of course I have to know how Anna gets out of her hole – and because I love reading about Lake Powell, the setting for the book. I’ll eventually finish the book, but I doubt I will take it to bed with me again.

My nighttime mystery reading from now on will be cozies, where there’s more mystery than blood. Even Anna, in her thoughts about her seemingly inescapable situation in the opening of “The Rope,” decided she was living a Stephen King novel.

The Wondering-Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Mystery Fanfare http://mysteryreadersinc.blogspot.com/ This is a good blog to follow if you like mystery books.

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Most people who ask for advice from others have already resolved to act as it pleases them.” – Khalil Gibran.

Of course when I hiked the benches of Mount Ogden in Utah, I wasn't exactly along. I always had Peaches or Maggie with me. Peaches would have torn the limbs off of anyone who tried to harm me. But, Maggie, who is shown here, would have been hiding behind me for protection.  -- Photo by Pat Bean

Of course when I hiked the benches of Mount Ogden in Utah, I wasn’t exactly alone. I always had Peaches or Maggie with me. Peaches would have torn the limbs off of anyone who tried to harm me. But, Maggie, who is shown here, would have been hiding behind me for protection. — Photo by Pat Bean

It All Depends

This is a photo my daughter shot while riding alone in the desert. -- Photo by T.C. Ornelas

This is a photo my daughter shot while riding alone in the desert. — Photo by T.C. Ornelas

I’m not a fan of giving advice – or getting it for that matter. I cringe when all but my youngest daughter asks me for advice, especially in areas in which I’ve made mistakes – and that covers a about a jillion areas.

And the only reason I don’t mind giving my youngest daughter with neck problems advice is that I know she won’t take it. I guess she takes after me. I can’t think of hardly any advice given me that I didn’t distain in favor of the hard knocks of experiencing things for myself.

Besides, over the years, I’ve learned that sometimes good-intentioned advice is not in my best interests. The best example is the frequent advice I was always getting not to hike the benches around Ogden alone.

coyote

And this is one of the coyotes that have followed her. — Photo by T.C. Ornelas

If I had followed that advice, heeding the fears of others, I would have deprived myself of some of the most soul-filling moments of my 25 years of living in Northern Utah. Knowing this is what keeps me from telling my youngest daughter not to ride her horse along in the desert, where coyotes trail her path.

For some of us, having our alone time in nature, is absolutely necessary for maintaining sanity. It was for me when I had daily newspaper deadlines to meet. And my daughter is a working mother, who raised three daughters and is now raising three boys, including two teenagers among them.  Talk about needing to hold onto saneness.

I also didn’t follow the advice of all the financial gurus who told me how much money I needed to retire. Instead I’ve spent the past 10 years, nine of them  traveling – alone – full-time in an RV across this vast country, perfecting ways to get by on much less than the gurus claimed I needed.

Recently, I’ve been checking out advice for getting my book, Travels with Maggie, published. Advice for this seems to be just about around every corner — and in the tradition of writing advice, the various suggestions are often contradictory.

But this morning, I read the best piece of publishing advice I have come across since I started researching the issue. It was offered by Chuck Wendig, author of “Kiss –Ass Writer.” The first step, said Chuck, is “write something great.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better piece of advice, or one that I will try harder to follow.

The Wondering-Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat:  Winter’s Heartbeat http://tinyurl.com/nxuqj55  This blog might actually make you not want to chase away the cold.

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