Writing Turtles

The good news is that I've been writing this month and for the month of July & August I have written 4,168 words in probably three stories.

The bad news is that it is all over the place and so sloooow. Three stories! That's not how you're supposed to do it. Unfortunately, I'm a slave to the muse. When she says froggy, I jump.

I will say that most of that occurred in Dream Stealer so I feel a bit better about it. Honestly, I feel like I've started a new story there. I'm not writing at all on the original story, but rather, I'm writing the backstory that now feels like it is THE story. So, I have no idea what to do about that. I'm just listening to Simon and writing it all down.

The other two stories were an anthology story and a new (maybe) short story. I don't know. They just happened to present themselves so I went with it.

Does any of this ever happen to other writers? I really want to know!

I'm just so glad to be writing again, even a small amount, that I'll write whatever story my brain pulls out. I was getting seriously depressed at not being able to get the words down. Heck, I couldn't get them out of my head. They were there, sitting, gathering dust and beginning to stink. It is a relief to get rid of them.

I have some plans this week to get me moving and hopefully alleviate some of the fatigue. I don't want to go into it now. Just in case I jinks it. We'll see how that goes.

My goal this week is to see if I can get 500 words down in something that is farther along than what I've been messing with. How about Long Summer Run, whose first draft is so near completion? That's a novel idea.

Of course, I'm very aware that this sudden spate of words could evaporate if a flare hits me like a meteor shower. In a moment, I can go from feeling great to rock bottom. From 60-0. Really.

There is one other bit of good news. August isn't over for a couple of weeks. We'll see how it goes.

As I finished this post and got the title, I realized it is a play on words. Writing Turtles. Writing Hurdles. Riding Turtles. Seemed appropriate.

Don't mind me. I'm tired.

Finding the Silver Lining

Writers write about everything, or I do, at least. I write blogs no one reads. I write stories. I write emails to friends and relatives. I write reviews on Amazon. Really, I write everything. I even like writing in my calendar, by hand. However - I rarely write a complain letter to a manufacturer. I have done but not many and I couldn't tell you when was the last time I wrote one. Well, until this month, anyway.

Like many folks, I buy plastic bags to use for a variety of things. Sandwiches, small parts, screws, and even toiletries when I travel. I rarely use them in the freezer. Who wants hand lotions on their Sunday best. With all those new travel restrictions in the last dozen years regarding liquids, I suspect plastic bags are booming. I've even put paper items and photos in these bags. I've covered cameras while canoeing. I mean, they float when sealed.

I can't tell you what my favorite brand is but I do prefer the quart and gallon sized freezer bags. I only buy ones for freezer use because long ago I discovered these recycled really easily and have so many uses. I can wash them and put them away.

Recently, I ran out of bags so I bought a couple of boxes of Ziploc^©  bags. Let me just say here that I don't like the zippered bags at all. They don't seal well and it is just one more piece of plastic to drop in the landfill or ocean. Why would a bag with a zip feature need a zipper? So, I buy the simple old style bags. Until now, they've worked.

The last time I bought this particular brand by Ziploc^©  I noticed a slight style change. It could have been around for a while. Truthfully, I buy Glad^©  freezer bags most of the time so that's probably why I didn't notice. The store didn't have any without the added zipper feature so I opted for Ziploc^© . Anyway, on the Ziploc^©  brand, the tab at the opening of the bag is now red. The other thing I noticed is that virtually every time I use one, the extended red tab tears off when I try and open the bag. I end up tossing the bag unused because I can't open it!

What you have to remember is I have problems with my hands. Not only do I have rheumatoid arthritis, I have nerve damage in my dominant left hand that creates a dexterity/strength problem with certain tasks. Opening a plastic bag with a zip feature is one of those things. These bags seal very well. So well, in fact, that at times, I can't open them because I can't get a grip strong enough to open it. I suspect this is why they added an extended tab on only one side of the bags. It is a good idea... when it works.

This past week I ended up ripping off the tab of a bag I was attempting to open. I've done this a few times recently. This day I was particularly annoyed because the damaged hand has been giving me a lot of pain and trouble. This was the proverbial camel. I went to my computer and dashed off a complaint letter to the company. This wasn't easy. It was a bit like opening their bags. I had intended to just write a negative review but they don't have a place to do that on their site. After diligent searching, I found their "Contact Us" page.

Here is my email: 

Quart size bags with the red top. Worst bags I've ever used, and I've used all of them. The tab tears off when you try and open it, even BEFORE you use it. And nearly every time! For every two I have to toss one. I'm disgusted. These are bad for the environment already. I try and recycle as many times as possible but with this style, it is bitting my budget. No more.

I felt better. Perhaps, they'd fix the bags so folks wouldn't have the problem. I can't believe I'm the only person with a problem, so maybe there'd be a positive outcome.

There was.

Here is a part of their very courteous and sympathetic response.

We stand behind our products and we're happy to make this right. In hopes you'll continue using Ziploc®, I’m mailing five personalized, full value coupons to the address you provided. I've also tucked in a booklet of money saving coupons for a variety of SC Johnson products. Please expect them to arrive in about two weeks.
For awareness, Ziploc® Bags now use the How2Recycle Label system. You can find participating stores with drop off locations at plasticfilmrecycling.org – best options are Target, Walmart and most grocery stores. 
We sincerely appreciate hearing from you, Cynthia – please let us know if we can help in the future.

There was more but I reduced it down to the really important stuff. I appreciate that they sent me a link to find recycling locations. That's a really great thing. What I found astounding was this sentence. I’m mailing five personalized, full value coupons to the address you provided.

They're going to send me coupons to buy FIVE more boxes of these bags.

I never considered that they'd send me freebies but it is a nice thing for them to do. I simply wanted to inform them of a defect I felt their product had and my intention to not buy the bags again in their current state. While I might be able to use the booklet coupons, why would I buy FIVE more boxes of something that sends me into a conniption fit?

I take comfort in knowing they are probably going to consider this problem. I like that they were so nice and even basically offered to replace the bags. I didn't give them details about my physical problems and probably should have done so. No doubt, someone will probably call me and ask me about the problem I have opening the bags and I can explain it then. It is nice to find a company that might actually listen to customer complaints.

They say every cloud has a silver lining but this one is a bit tarnished. The sad truth is, I don't go through five boxes of these bags in a year. Seriously, I use containers to store things in the fridge or freezer. The bags are for the kind of thing I mentioned above. So, I'll probably give away some of the coupons and inflict the same frustration on friends or family.  I'll probably give them the link to the "Contact Us" page.

Battle of Wits

Today I embraced my seniority.

You mean you admitted you're old? 

What? NO! OK. Yes, I did. I called SWIRCA to get information about their exercise programs. I heard they had them and well...

You also admitted you're fat?

NO! Now, wait a minute. Sheesh, I really need to find someone to talk to besides myself.

Oh, I think you're doing fine. Honesty is good for the soul. Keep going. I'm listening. 

I can't talk to you. You're insulting. I'm trying to make a point here and you're twisting my words.

Remember, I'm the logical side of your brain. 

Yes, but I'm right brained.

Meaningless.

I also wrote 771 words today. 

Oh, so you got off your fat butt and walked over to the computer. Great start on that exercise program. What story was it?

....

That's not really steam coming out your ears, you know. 

Shows how good my imagination is. 

Story?

It doesn't have a name. It is one that was lying around in my files. 

Wasting away, unlike some people we know. So, a "new" story. While the others lie unfinished and hopelessly confused. You've left Simon with a dead agent. You've left Alexandra with a nearly dead boyfriend. You left Beth and her two children homeless with a suitcase of stolen money. You've left Marley sitting in the woods.

No! Marley has been rescued.

Oh yeah, right! And her attacker is on his way to kill her so she can't tell on him. That's an improvement. Never mind the gaping hole right in the middle of the darn thing! Oh, and let me see... You have another dead guy in the church basement floating in two feet of water. How'm I doing?

Great. Just great.

You know, you really shouldn't grind your teeth like that. You'll need dentures.

Are you going soft on me? No comment on all the dental work?

Well, no one would have known if you hadn't mentioned it.

I'm leaving now. 

So, where are you going?

To bed. It's late and 5 a.m. comes early.

I'm not sleepy. 

That figures. There is a puzzle book on the Kindle. That'll put you down.

I'll be here in the morning. Waiting.

Flash Fiction on a Sunday Afternoon

I'm apparently in a reminiscing mood tonight. Ran across this tiny gem and tried to get my head around the fact that I actually wrote this!

Written 06/11/2006 3:13 pm

It was a smokey room with no windows and it smelt of stale beer and cheap cigarettes. The one bonus was that it was 30 degrees cooler than the night-shrouded parking lot she had just left and probably a thousand degrees cooler than her flaming Chevy a hundred yards down the road.

The ancient jukebox in the back was playing an equally ancient song that she recognized. It had been on the hit parade when she was 10 and going through her country music phase. The voice was as smokey as the room... what was that guy's name? She remembered she had loved his music but it was long forgotten now.

"What can I get ya, Babe?"

Now there was a line to get a girl's attention. From the cave-like booth where he crouched, he squinted glazed eyes at her through a cloud of smoke that boiled from his mouth, probably from the stygian depths of his soul. Between slack, wet lips she saw a flash of sparkling white teeth just before he stoked the fire again. Oh yeah, he was hot, all right, just smokin'.

"A phone book and phone would be great." She directed her attention toward where she hoped the bartender was in residence. Den was an appropriate term if this guy was any example. She had a sinking feeling that the night might not get better.

"Hey, Babe, I'll give you my number, you ain't gotta look it up."

She looked back and found that her imagination was taking over and Jaba the Hutt was leering at her. Great, just what she needed. She could only hope he was as hampered walking as the original Hutt had been because she was no Princess Leia and there was not going to be a Luke Skywalker or Han Solo appear to rescue her.

She moved toward the end of the bar, suppressing a grin. She wouldn't mind Han Solo rushing in and grabbing her up. Of course, it was Skywalker who always did the dashing moves, levitating while brandishing a sword at the bad guy with a girl on his other arm. No, Solo was just handing out the grins, hugs, and kisses in dark corners of the Falcon. She sighed. There weren't going to be any heroes in this tale. She just had a bad feeling about it.

"Excuse me," she said as the bartender moved her way, "do you have a phone book. My car just blew up and I need a tow."

His eyes widened and his mouth formed an O before he replied, "Honey, you won't get a tow tonight, not around here. You are 75 miles from a real town and the only garage we have locally is run by that slug you passed on the way in. And he is in no shape to drive anyone anywhere unless it is to hell."

She turned back to stare at the Hutt. He grinned a whiskey grin and wiggled his fingers at her. Oh God, the night was not going well at all. What little space she had acquired between her and trouble just went up in smoke.

Monologue

I'm a writer. I AM a writer. I am a WRITER! I AM A WRITER!

Yeah, you just keep saying that. You wrote like 400 words this week. Oh, and today's only Tuesday. Good job.

Shut up.

Hey, don't blame me for your shortcomings. I didn't decide to be a writer.

Does one really decide to be a writer? I mean, I don't have any actual memory of waking up one day and saying, "OH! I think I'll be a writer!"

Are you supposed to use so many exclamation points? Cause I don't think so.

Stop!

No, really. I'm pretty sure there is a limit.

I thought you said you weren't the writer?

I'm not. I'm the logical side, remember? Math is my strong suit. I can count.

Don't make me laugh. Math is your nemesis. You hate math.

Not really. You hate math. If I had my way I'd be good at it. 

You can't even answer a simple, logical question. So, does one decide to be a writer?

Do you mean are writers made or born?

Whatever.

I don't know. You are aware that we're not actually two people, right?

I'm not an idiot.

Good! That means I'm not either. Don't you know the answer?

I think they just are. I think writing, for some of us, is innate and I think something happens; we write something that flips a switch. From that point on, we just know we're writers.

So, I have a question. 

You do? Oh... sorry. What question?

Don't writers write?

Shut up.

Happy Birthday

Jerry & Cynthia Maddox
Frankfurt, W. Germany, Fall 1977

Today would have been Jerry's 69th birthday. He's been gone nearly 10 years. I wish I could say that life had returned to normal but it hasn't. It can't ever be normal because everything that was important is gone.

This photo was taken in 1977, in Frankfurt, West Germany. We were so young and so happy! My God, I loved him so much. We had some terrible rough spots over the 35 years we spent together but oh, so many wonderful times. I remember this moment so clearly. It was a photo booth near the train station in downtown Frankfurt. We hadn't been in country long. It was at night and we were on our way back to our apartment in Offenbach.

December 2004

I don't think about the good times often because they are very painful to remember. I don't know why people think it is nice to "remember the good times". It is like ripping open an old wound to poke a stick in it and dig around. It doesn't make me happy.

Happy birthday, Jerry. I love you so much it hurts.