Eyes Right

Excerpts from EYES RIGHT published by literary journal, r.kv.r.y

2011-12-30T10:04:00.004-05:00

A huge thanks to r.kv.r.y editor Mary Akers for soliciting a few excerpts from my forthcoming memoir, EYES RIGHT.

You can read them here.

What I've learned about myself as an editor after six months...

2011-12-29T10:12:00.003-05:00

Six months ago, I accepted the position of creative nonfiction editor at Prime Number Magazine, a literary journal published by Press 53.

Maybe you caught my earlier posts about what I'd learned in the first few weeks, and then after the first three months about myself as an editor? If not, I'll save you reading time by stating that what still hasn't changed is the awe of responsibility I feel every time I send a rejection or acceptance letter. Because I've been there. As a writer first, I'm still there.

So, here are a few more things I've learned about myself as an editor, now after six months:

I still refuse to send a rejection letter without offering feedback. Yes, this is even more time-consuming, but I have this sense of the writer on the other end, and that we're developing an editor-writer relationship for the future. Or so I hope. If I'm particularly drawn to the writer's voice or the writer's artful prose, but have to reject for another reason, I want the writer to know what I admired and what didn't work for me. I've invited a number of writers to resubmit -- either a revision or additional work. Some have. Some haven't...yet. But every writer has emailed a thanks for actual workshop-like feedback. Now, can I keep up this pace, given the number of submissions we're receiving? I certainly hope so.

Caution, next comment may contain elements of snarkiness:
Recently, two writers whose work I'd accepted emailed back that their pieces were accepted elsewhere. This, after I'd spent considerable time on edits, contract prep, etc. (growl) One writer emailed back, "Sorry, but I'll send you something else." Gee, thanks. Actually, no thanks. Yes, my patience after six months is somewhat waning with unprofessional/amateurish writers who don't take the time to withdraw their manuscripts. Do they simply forget? Probably. But writing, for most of us anyway, is about getting published, which means writing has a business side. If you're a writer, you're also the CEO of your writing business. Please keep a journal of your submissions. Please!

Within the first six months on the job, the highest point was accepting work from a previously unpublished writer.

The second highest was nominating two nonfiction writers for Pushcart Prizes and others for Prime Number Magazine's first print anthology.

The work that still speaks to me most is material that's fresh, meaning I haven't read "xyz" in a dozen other literary journals, or that the writer's insights to even tired material (say, about an aging parent's failing health) is fresh. Give me a strong voice in clean prose that engages me with honest insights into a self-deprecating narrator, and I'm hooked.

Along the road toward publication...

2011-10-28T20:37:00.004-04:00

Here's the book cover for my memoir, EYES RIGHT!

And the book jacket information, as well as the early reviews.

How technology aided our college news team through real world incident

2011-10-23T17:51:00.004-04:00

Friday evening, I was on a mini-vacation from the college, and settled on the sofa for a movie night with my husband when a text message dinged in from one of my college newspaper editors: Campus is on lockdown. Do you know why?

I sprang from the sofa, ran for notebook and pen, while texting, I'll find out. Stay in your room. Tell everyone to stay put.

Thirty-six hours later, here's the recap:

A student, intoxicated and with a firearm he'd already discharged inside his grandfather's home, was headed back to our campus, according to information from local police on a tip from the grandfather. Our Campus Safety folks interrupted a soccer match, sending home the visitors; ordering students to their dorms and parents and visitors off campus.

Our college's fall break had started that afternoon. I was, as mentioned, already here in N.C. Several editors were on road trips. Others were locked and frightened in their dorm rooms: visions of Va. Tech and Columbine no doubt racing through their heads.

Despite all the distance challenges, we rallied as a news team, tweeting and Facebook posting messages to the college community as news could be confirmed. Within a half hour, we'd gathered enough confirmed material to upload our first full news article to our online newspaper, and throughout the evening, added updates, a map, and eventually (thankfully!) a link to an arrest record.

Even our editors on the road to New Orleans managed to send info via text and email. Thanks to technology and an even greater verve of determination, our news team kept the college community (and nervous parents) connected throughout the incident, and afterward.

This frightening event evolved into a lesson of real world experience for all of us at the newspaper.

Check out the great nonfiction and reviews!

2011-10-20T10:40:00.002-04:00

Prime Number Magazine's issue 13 is now live!

Check out all the fine work -- poetry, short stories, creative nonfiction, and reviews -- via this link.

Along the road to publication of EYES RIGHT....

2011-09-25T10:30:00.002-04:00

I recently stumbled across the early posting of my memoir, EYES RIGHT, on the University of Nebraska Press website. The editor hasn't released the cover image yet, but you can sign up for notifications and pre-orders.

Here's the link.

It's official!

What I've learned about myself as an editor after 3 months

2011-08-28T07:57:00.009-04:00

About three months ago, I accepted the position as nonfiction editor of Prime Number Magazine, an online literary journal published by Press 53. I posted what I'd learned about myself and the editing process after just one week.

I thought I'd catch you up with a few insights about what I've learned now, three months into the position, about myself as an editor and about what I've learned regarding the editing side of writing:

I nearly burned myself out with the first issue that went live in July because I accepted too much: 6 memoirs about 4,000 words each. Do the math. That's a lot of editing and a lot of reading and re-reading before each could go live. (Have I mentioned I have another full-time job as a journalism and creative writing professor, as well as a grueling personal writing schedule?)

On a first, even second read for consideration, a piece may appear stronger than it truly is, meaning tons of editing in my future. I'm now reading with a much more critical eye.

Content matters greatly. This is why rejection shouldn't be taken personally: If I've just accepted a piece related to, say death, then I might have to reject other fine submissions on the same topic that show up later in the reading period. And this leads me to the next realization...and confession.

I'm just as excited as ever about every new submission, but I've learned to pace my acceptances. Now I understand why editors have held onto my work for months and months: editors are leaving open the window for even stronger pieces. Sorry, but true.

Cover letters still don't mean as much to me as I thought they did when I was submitting them to editors. It's not about what you've already published, but about the piece you're trying to publish, for this editor anyway. When I read a cover letter that expresses pub credits, I can't help but read the subtext as, So you're an idiot if you don't publish my work. I mean, it's okay to keep telling me where you've been published, just saying...

Rejected writers are enormously appreciative of feedback, and I'm still determined as ever to provide feedback to every writer I have to reject. Which brings me to the next one...

A rejected writer took to heart my invitation to submit again, and broke a cardinal rule in publishing by submitting a new piece within a half hour of the rejection. I saw the email, sighed, even rolled my eyes. But you know what? I LOVED it! I couldn't accept the new piece fast enough. Who has the last laugh now? Lesson learned: don't pay attention to the so-called rules of publishing. :)

Calling all writers!

2011-08-17T10:22:00.005-04:00

Recently, the folks at the Hayden's Ferry Review literary journal released what they consider the most overused plotlines and techniques -- as well as techniques gone wrong.

Take a look here.

Debut novel climbing up Amazon!

2011-08-10T12:12:00.006-04:00

The reviews for Carver Greene's debut novel, An Unlawful Order, are beginning to come in, thanks in part, to all our efforts at spreading the news among our Facebook friends and Twitter and blog followers. Woohoo! And just $2.99.

Who says a woman can't write a military conspiracy thriller?

Check out these reviews from Amazon.

Call to duty forces Marine mom to leave behind sick infant

2011-08-08T18:23:00.002-04:00

Here's a link to the other blog, First Marine Moms. This week, I'm profiling the story about a Marine mom who has overcome many challenges -- a rape by a fellow Marine, for one. Being compelled to leave behind a sick infant when called back to duty, another.

What we (writers) can learn from the baseball team in Arizona

2011-08-03T08:37:00.019-04:00

At first, this might appear to be a post about baseball.

My husband is the advance scout for the Arizona Diamondbacks, and sensing you might not follow baseball, I'll fill you in. The Diamondbacks, the team every sportscaster determined in April would finish last in the National League West division, is now tied at first with the World Series defending champs, the San Francisco Giants. And this isn't the first time the Dbacks have tied or extended their lead to first place. But we're in the homestretch of the season, meaning how a team finishes determines what sort of October they'll enjoy.

I can't divulge all the reasons for this monumental success. But what I can tell you is that interest in the Dbacks' story of monumental leadership is now sweeping the nation. Baseball aficionados, who might never have cared about the little team from Arizona, are now swept up in Dbacks fever.

My theory is that we crave solid examples of leadership. Leadership, as I'm fond of saying, trumps all -- even a lack of talent, which is what sportscasters during Spring Training said about the Dbacks. Sure, we can't all be A-Rods or Jeters (or Toni Morrisons for you writers...).

But solid leadership, such as what we've witnessed from the top down in Arizona -- especially from Kirk Gibson and his lieutenants -- can make a team believe enough in itself so that each player works harder than ever to improve and recognizes that the greatest victories come from picking each other up during a slump.

Maybe this is just talk from the former Marine within me. Maybe I'm the only one so hungry for solid examples of what leadership can trump because I'm a writer among masses of writers, each of us wishing to find a place for our voice. What if each of us had a personal coach, our very own personal Kirk Gibson, who walked in our kitchen each morning with a motivational speech that cheered us on, reminded us about remaining focused, and encouraged us toward a belief in the power of positive thinking and action about our writing?

Unfortunately, Gibby's a little busy right now with the Dbacks. But we can still learn from his examples and apply them toward our writing lives.

The Don'ts:
1- Don't listen to critics.
2- Don't underestimate the power of your positive attitude.
3- Don't let the minor setbacks along the way of your dream permanently define your journey.

The Do's:
1- Do listen to your intuitive, encouraging voice.
2- Do back up your positive attitude with positive action.
3- Do take a moment to reflect on the lessons learned from minor setbacks so that those lessons can catapult you toward success.

A book is a "ship of thought"

2011-08-01T10:28:00.007-04:00

I came across this quote, and love it.

"The books that help you most are those which make you think the most...A great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deeply freighted with truth and beauty."

~Theodore Parker, a minister, theologian, and philosopher

Carver Greene publishes debut novel!

2011-07-27T10:39:00.004-04:00

Many, many congrats to Carver Greene on the release of her first novel, An Unlawful Order, a military conspiracy thriller with a female protagonist, Captain Chase Anderson.

Buy early here.

How far have we come?

2011-07-26T15:14:00.003-04:00

By now, you've probably read that I've started a new blog to highlight the legacy of women Marines who, like me, were the first to become mothers. Remember, women used to be forced out of military service until the regulation change about 1977.

So, I've been profiling the stories of these "First Marine Moms" in Q & A format. When I received the most recent story from Mary-Julia Hill (pictured here with her son, Christopher, in the 1980s) about how she'd been treated, even ordered to complete a Physical Fitness Test at 8 months pregnant, another just 2 weeks after her delivery, I became outraged.

You can read Mary-Julia's full story here.

My first foray as an editor...

2011-07-18T20:09:00.003-04:00

Today, my first foray as a nonfiction editor went live. I hope you'll check out the amazing, provocative nonfiction in issue 11 of Prime Number Magazine.

And be sure to check out the craft essay by the incomparable Michael Steinberg.

Dispatches from "The Camp": Meet our latest visitor

2011-07-17T10:31:00.003-04:00

The other evening, the cows in the pasture behind our home were bellowing more than usual. I was worried about coyotes. Calves not much taller than Cash are plentiful back there this summer. I watch them romping across the fields, too far from their mothers, too far from safety.

That's when I spotted what looked like a wolf, instead. I didn't take this photo; I found it online when I searched for images of "black coyote." But our visitor looks exactly like this. Apparently, he's a wolf or a coyote/wolf hybrid.

He loped across the back pasture toward the cows that had gathered around the edge of the farmer's 2-acre pond. I heard gunfire from the direction of the barn. No sign of him afterward.

Until yesterday morning. You remember Wyatt, the neighbor's beloved Basset Hound that visits us every day? He spent the night here Friday, and when I let him out the next morning, he caught a whiff of something that compelled him to nearly hurl his weighty "fat boy" self down our porch steps and up the hill toward our backyard.

There he was, the wolf. In our backyard. Thank goodness, Cash and Molly were in the fenced area, though Cash, if he only believed, could easily clear the 4-foot fence.

The wolf easily outran Wyatt, who was baying with ancestral pride and giving chase. The white tip of his tail signaled his progress through the woods and across the pasture.

The wolf loped past our place, his head turned toward Cash, Molly, and me the entire way. Anticipating. Evaluating.

Intimidating.

Release date set for EYES RIGHT

2011-07-13T19:54:00.003-04:00

The editor at Nebraska Press emailed today. We now have a release date for Eyes Right: Confessions from a Woman Marine.

April 1, and that's no April Fool's joke.

She explained that the books will be in the warehouse by March, and out for early reviews.

This suddenly feels more real than ever.

Two blogs?

2011-07-11T20:56:00.002-04:00

I've started a new blog, First Marine Moms.

This blog will be devoted to the legacy left by the Marines who, like me, were the first to become moms. You see, just before I joined the Marines in 1977, if you became pregnant, you said goodbye to your military career. Well, you can read all about it at the new blog.

For those of you devoted readers still interested in following my musings about writing and about summer life here at the camp, thanks so much. I hope you'll continue to follow here.

What's YOUR definition of a book?

2011-07-07T11:02:00.004-04:00

A few months ago, I was in the middle of a conversation with a small group of my husband's baseball friends when someone dropped the news that I had written a book.

"Really?" said one of the men, an attorney for the players. He seemed clearly unaffected, and I brushed it off. But a few minutes later, a wife asked how she could find my book. "Oh, it won't be released for another year," I said.

The attorney's face lifted in surprise. "You mean, you've written a real book?"

That's when it hit me. In today's world when it seems nearly anyone and everyone has self-published one to three or more books, When is a book really a book?

Shortly after this incident, I joined several writers' groups on the social networking site, Linkedin, and was immediately overwhelmed by the hundreds and hundreds of writers promoting their self-published books. I've written a book about the incest in my family, writes one woman. I've written a memoir about growing up in the Rockies, still another. Hundreds, probably thousands, of books.

For someone who's been through a rigorous MFA program, which included the arduous task of completing revision after revision of a manuscript, and who continued this process long after completion of the MFA, and who subjected herself to dozens and dozens of rejections from literary journal editors to agents to noteworthy publishers before finally signing with a publisher, I admit I'm coming down with a mild case of literary snobbery. I suppose, like the rest of the publishing world, I just need to get over myself.

Still, the rules of the publishing world may be changing, but they aren't changing yet for me. In my world of academia, self-publishing is (pardon the cliche) the kiss of death. Why? "Because publishing is supposed to be hard," said one grad school friend, who went on to explain that the traditional method of publishing is a weeding out process. "Imagine we're all in a bottle," she said, "and the goal is to swim up through the neck of the bottle and out to the world....only you've got to make it upstream against the tide of really, really good writing." In other words, the writing has to be deemed worthy by those highly placed in the publishing world, and by a process other than sheer vanity, hence vanity presses.

I don't know. Are those writers who refuse to play the bottle game just smarter than the rest of us? Time was when it meant something to say you'd written a book. People would gasp and praise, say things like, "I've always wanted to write a book," or even glibly add, "You know, I could write a book, too, if I just had the time." And we traditionally published writers would quietly think to ourselves, You have no idea how hard it is to write a book, let alone get one published....

But tell someone today you've written a book and you're more likely to hear, "Yeah? Well, I've written five," which is what I heard at a writer-friend's recent book signing. Or face, as I did with the attorney, a totally unaffected demeanor.

So again I ask, When is a book really a book?

1,000 words a day...or whatever works for you

2011-06-29T19:18:00.003-04:00

The summer is racing toward August when I'm due back to the college for what promises to be my most hectic semester of teaching. Not that I don't love my students and my job, but my writing experience here in North Carolina this summer hasn't exactly materialized the way I envisioned.

First, I've been too wrapped up in the edits of EYES RIGHT, and a number of other serious writing projects, not to mention the grading of papers from students doing independent summer courses with me, and the editing work for Prime Number Magazine.

So earlier this week, I had to make a decision, and quick. I had to determine a plan for reaching the end of this new novel manuscript. As a result, I've chosen an old goal that worked for me several summers ago when I was working on my first novel:

Write 1,000 words a day.

And it's worked. So far this week, I've advanced the book about 15 pages. At this rate, I'll have this first draft down by the time I return to Florida.

1,000 words a day...1,000 words a day

Queens University MFA program featured in Charlotte Observer

2011-06-18T08:46:00.004-04:00

Today's Charlotte Observer features an article that focuses mostly on the Queens University of Charlotte MFA program. Hooray that my graduate program is now ranked 7th among the plethora of low-residency programs.

Need a push to write that book that's been developing inside you? Check out this article to see if an MFA program is for you.

Frankly, I wouldn't be publishing EYES RIGHT next spring if not for the invaluable support and workshop critiques from my Queens' faculty (pictured above: Elizabeth Strout, 2010 Pulitzer Prize winner, and Michael Kobre, co-director) and peers. In fact, before I graduated from Queens, I published three essays in top literary journals -- thanks to the feedback from faculty and fellow writers -- and all three essays were nominated for Pushcart Prizes.

Dispatches from "Summer Camp"

2011-06-16T14:12:00.006-04:00

Disclaimer: This story has a happy ending.

Let me start at the beginning. We drove up here for a visit during my fall break from the college. We found several pieces of vinyl soffit lying on the ground; access to our attic, exposed for whatever.

The whatever, you guessed it, turned out to be raccoons. Several of them. In fact, several families, burrowing tunnels through our insulation. We called the North Carolina wildlife folks, and on their recommendation, hired Company A to set several traps. Within an hour of setting the first one, we trapped Piggie, the neighbor's black Chihuahua. Even with the wind blowing in the opposite direction, Piggie sniffed out the can of sardines clear across ten acres of dense forest.

The next day, we trapped an angry possum. That's when the company rep, who all along had been voicing his fear of facing a raccoon in our attic, finally agreed to go up for a look. Within minutes, he was down and declared a raccoon-free victory. "Your dogs must have scared them away from here," he said.

But they came back, sometime in December. We'd returned, too, for the holidays, and we found the same pieces of vinyl soffit lying scattered across the yard and the same telltale muddy prints leading from the porch rail to the banisters and disappearing into the attic. The wildlife rep returned and set his traps. Nothing.

Yet every morning I rose at five to write, and creatures with manlike heavy thuds shuffled overhead. Eventually, the sounds disappeared, and the wildlife guy declared the attic "clear." Up went the soffit pieces, this time reinforced with heavy-duty screening for added insurance.

They came back in the spring. They laughed at the screen -- pulling it down or pushing it up in the attic. You see, apparently, we are Mecca for raccoons because we live near a pond. Raccoons, I've now learned, love to wash off their food, and this is why they leave such telltale muddy prints. Raccoons also return to their birthplace, meaning we could anticipate generations of raccoons.

This time, down $1,200, we declared war. This time, we called a different company. And this time, there was no hesitation about going up in the attic. Within ten minutes of listening to our history with raccoons, these guys were scoping out the entire attic with flashlights, probing insulation, and making chirping sounds to flush out the babies. In the end, all they found was evidence of several litters.

Critter Control guy set a different trap: a kill trap, a medieval looking piece of hardware. "If she so much as sticks her head out or up in here, she's dead," he said, balancing himself on a ladder while screwing the metal kill device to the frame of our house. "Will she suffer?" I asked. This was barbaric, I thought. I can't even bear for the landscapers to kill one of our snakes. "She'll be dead in seconds," he hollered over a shoulder. "And she'll be hanging here all night until I get back in the morning, so don't let your dogs back here until you check the trap."

That night about eight-thirty, still light enough to make out whether a snake had slithered in the yard, I let the dogs out the back, searching the ground, and when I saw a sudden movement toward the corner of the house, I knew without looking we'd caught a raccoon. I grabbed Cash's collar and dragged him inside. And sure enough, success.

Only we'd trapped a baby raccoon --kittenesque, maybe two months old (that's him in the photo above) -- and he was screaming and clawing at the side of the house. I called Critter Control. "He'll be dead in a minute. I promise you."

Wrong. That baby hung just outside my bedroom window and cried all night like a furious, hungry newborn. I was beside myself. I was furious with Critter Control guy. I was most furious with myself for not insisting that he drive back across three counties in the middle of the night to release the animal.

The next morning, Critter Control guy was just as stunned to see that the baby was still alive and still crying. In the hand of Critter Control guy, the baby raccoon went limp from exhaustion.

We carried him up the hill and up the path I'd seen a grown raccoon take two nights before. We set the baby against a mulch pile. He curled up tight as a fist and went to sleep. Concerned, I went back later that day and found evidence that his mother had returned: a huge tunnel dug through the mulch. I heard the faint, sweet chirps.

"7 deadly sins of pubbed writers"

2011-06-15T14:40:00.010-04:00

I stumbled across this blog today and plan to join as a follower. This is perhaps the soundest advice I've ever read for writers.

Here's a teaser, #2:

2. Playing compare and contrast with other authors’ careers. There will always–always–be someone out there who is making more money than you are, who is selling more books than you are, who just always seems to land on his/her feet in a way that makes you feel a little (or a lot) envious. Try reasoning with your emotional response. Says author Melanie Benjamin:

We all seem to want the same career- the career only a scant handful of writers will ever have. We’re not all going to be NY Times Bestsellers, or win awards.

Adds author M.J. Rose:

We each write our own books and live our own career paths. To invite comparison is to negate the beauty and power and grace of what we create. Comparisons invite self-loathing.

Try to be grateful for where you are and for all that you’ve accomplished, and recognize that the publishing biz is like one big ladder: We all have our rung, and we’re all capable of moving up.

"Pressure makes diamonds" ~ General Patton

2011-06-09T08:31:00.003-04:00

Today, I have a success story to share.

Two days ago, the college newspaper I advise was named best college newspaper in the state. That's right, IN THE STATE.

The competition was fierce. Our little paper, which has been the brunt of jokes for years and with an operating budget one-tenth or so of the larger state universities, seemed an impossible competitor.

Yet, we won.

How? Because we believed we could win. Armed with that belief this year, we jumped into action, studying previous winners, emulating the best of the best, and then performing our best, issue after issue, sometimes working as late as 5 a.m. during layout sessions. Student editors, newly inspired and infused with the belief they could win, inspired their writers toward success.

Our "secret" winning formula looked something like this:

Success = Belief + Action

Sure, in the background, I was slowly, steadily applying pressure. Because in the words of General George Patton: "Pressure makes diamonds."

We were diamonds in the rough. We were underdogs. We were "the little engine that could." We were defined by all those cliches meant to describe a meteoric rise to the top.

Now we're the one to beat.

A "wordle" of this blog

2011-06-07T06:16:00.002-04:00


Create your own blog wordle!

Leadership traits, courtesy of the U.S. Marines

2011-06-05T08:10:00.003-04:00

Last semester, I was talking with students in my advanced journalism class about the traits one needed to become an effective leader. In their case, an effective editor, for an editor is, obviously, a leader.

We discussed 14 key leadership traits. In fact, we discussed the 14 leadership traits recognized by the U.S. Marines. Here they are, courtesy of the U.S. Marines. Is it any wonder an 18 to 19-year-old recruit is forever transformed after a few months of boot camp, let alone years of following a doctrine that adheres to these traits?

Marine Corps Leadership Traits
The 14 leadership traits are qualities of thought and action which, if demonstrated in daily activities, help Marines earn the respect, confidence, and loyal cooperation of other Marines. It is extremely important that you understand the meaning of each leadership trait and how to develop it, so you know what goals to set as you work to become a good leader and a good follower.

JUSTICE
Definition: Justice is defined as the practice of being fair and consistent. A just person gives consideration to each side of a situation and bases rewards or punishments on merit.
Suggestions for Improvement: Be honest with yourself about why you make a particular decision. Avoid favoritism. Try to be fair at all times and treat all things and people in an equal manner.

JUDGMENT
Definition: Judgment is your ability to think about things clearly, calmly, and in an orderly fashion so that you can make good decisions.
Suggestions for Improvement: You can improve your judgment if you avoid making rash decisions. Approach problems with a common sense attitude.

DEPENDABILITY
Definition: Dependability means that you can be relied upon to perform your duties properly. It means that you can be trusted to complete a job. It is the willing and voluntary support of the policies and orders of the chain of command. Dependability also means consistently putting forth your best effort in an attempt to achieve the highest standards of performance.
Suggestions for Improvement: You can increase your dependability by forming the habit of being where you're supposed to be on time, by not making excuses and by carrying out every task to the best of your ability regardless of whether you like it or agree with it.

INITIATIVE
Definition: Initiative is taking action even though you haven't been given orders. It means meeting new and unexpected situations with prompt action. It includes using resourcefulness to get something done without the normal material or methods being available to you.
Suggestions for Improvement: To improve your initiative, work on staying mentally and physically alert. Be aware of things that need to be done and then to do them without having to be told.

DECISIVENESS
Definition: Decisiveness means that you are able to make good decisions without delay. Get all the facts and weight them against each other. By acting calmly and quickly, you should arrive at a sound decision. You announce your decisions in a clear, firm, professional manner.
Suggestions for Improvement: Practice being positive in your actions instead of acting half-heartedly or changing your mind on an issue.

TACT
Definition: Tact means that you can deal with people in a manner that will maintain good relations and avoid problems. It means that you are polite, calm, and firm.
Suggestions for Improvement: Begin to develop your tact by trying to be courteous and cheerful at all times. Treat others as you would like to be treated.

INTEGRITY
Definition: Integrity means that you are honest and truthful in what you say or do. You put honesty, sense of duty, and sound moral principles above all else.
Suggestions for Improvement: Be absolutely honest and truthful at all times. Stand up for what you believe to be right.

ENTHUSIASM
Definition: Enthusiasm is defined as a sincere interest and exuberance in the performance of your duties. If you are enthusiastic, you are optimistic, cheerful, and willing to accept the challenges.
Suggestions for Improvement: Understanding and belief in your mission will add to your enthusiasm for your job. Try to understand why even uninteresting jobs must be done.

BEARING
Definition: Bearing is the way you conduct and carry yourself. Your manner should reflect alertness, competence, confidence, and control.
Suggestions for Improvement: To develop bearing, you should hold yourself to the highest standards of personal conduct. Never be content with meeting only the minimum requirements.

UNSELFISHNESS
Definition: Unselfishness means that you avoid making yourself comfortable at the expense of others. Be considerate of others. Give credit to those who deserve it.
Suggestions for Improvement: Avoid using your position or rank for personal gain, safety, or pleasure at the expensive of others. Be considerate of others.

COURAGE
Definition: Courage is what allows you to remain calm while recognizing fear. Moral courage means having the inner strength to stand up for what is right and to accept blame when something is your fault. Physical courage means that you can continue to function effectively when there is physical danger present.
Suggestions for Improvement: You can begin to control fear by practicing self-discipline and calmness. If you fear doing certain things required in your daily life, force yourself to do them until you can control your reaction.

KNOWLEDGE
Definition: Knowledge is the understanding of a science or art. Knowledge means that you have acquired information and that you understand people. Your knowledge should be broad, and in addition to knowing your job, you should know your unit's policies and keep up with current events.
Suggestions for Improvement: Suggestions for Improvement: Increase your knowledge by remaining alert. Listen, observe, and find out about things you don't understand. Study field manuals and other military literature.

LOYALTY
Definition: Loyalty means that you are devoted to your country, the Corps, and to your seniors, peers, and subordinates. The motto of our Corps is Semper Fidelis!, (Always Faithful). You owe unwavering loyalty up and down the chain of command, to seniors, subordinates, and peers.
Suggestions for Improvement: To improve your loyalty you should show your loyalty by never discussing the problems of the Marine Corps or your unit with outsiders. Never talk about seniors unfavorably in front of your subordinates. Once a decision is made and the order is given to execute it, carry out that order willingly as if it were your own.

ENDURANCE
Definition: Endurance is the mental and physical stamina that is measured by your ability to withstand pain, fatigue, stress, and hardship. For example, enduring pain during a conditioning march in order to improve stamina is crucial in the development of leadership.
Suggestions for Improvement: Develop your endurance by engaging in physical training that will strengthen your body. Finish every task to the best of your ability by forcing yourself to continue when you are physically tired and your mind is sluggish.
Because it is important to always be able to remember the basic leadership traits, the acronym "J.J. DID TIE BUCKLE" is used. Each letter in the acronym corresponds to the first letter of one of the traits. By remembering the acronym, you will be better able to recall the traits.

What I've learned during my first week as an editor

2011-06-01T13:25:00.004-04:00

A week ago, I took over as the nonfiction editor at Prime Number Magazine, an online literary journal published by Press 53. One week later, here's what I've learned -- about myself and about life from the other side of the desk.

I get giddy over the prospect of each submission. Each is a gift to be unwrapped.

Cover letters truly don't mean as much as I thought they did when I wrote them to editors.

Novice nonfiction writers are easy to spot: they refer to their essay or memoir as a "short story." As in, Thank you for considering my non fiction short story. I've had to verify with several writers that the work is, in fact, nonfiction before proceeding.

Despite the practice of some editors, I DO read past the first page. In fact, I read the entire piece, sometimes even three or more times over several days before making a decision, especially if I'm considering rejection. The reason? I haven't received one submission yet that I immediately thought, No. The nonfiction I've received so far is that good.

I'm probably too competitive as an editor. Before rejecting each piece, I ask myself, Are you going to be okay if XYZ journal accepts this and gets credit for discovering a great talent?

Rejection letters get my personal feedback about why the piece "doesn't feel right for us." Sure hope I can keep up with this practice.

I finally understand how an editor's preferences influence a decision to accept or reject a piece. Wow, I so get this now and want to impress upon every writer I know, Rejection really isn't personal...I swear!

Whatever I choose to publish, I have to edit, meaning I have to limit myself on how many pieces and writers I can work with per issue to maintain a high standard and my sanity. Even if I want to say yes, I sometimes have to say no. :(

Soliciting awesome work from fellow writers and teachers makes the transition to an editor's role a much smoother one. Thanks to all those who have submitted! You'll hear from me soon.

"Books for Soldiers": Here's your chance to show appreciation

2011-05-30T12:02:00.006-04:00

Hey, Everyone,

I've pasted below the information from Press 53 about its 2nd "Books for Soldiers" campaign. Last year's campaign was wildly successful, and Kevin, the publisher, heard a resounding thanks from our troops and their families.

If you've been thinking today about how to show your appreciation, I hope you'll consider participating in "Books for "Soldiers."

From Press 53's Kevin Watson:

From Memorial Day (May 30) until Flag Day (June 14), for every book purchased at Press 53, we will ship a book at no additional cost to an active-duty soldier. Help us send a bit of home to our active-duty troops who are now overseas.

Here's how it works:

1. Buy a book for yourself, or for someone you love, at http://www.press53.com/, between May 30 (Memorial Day) and June 14 (Flag Day).

2. We will send a book to an active-duty soldier (found through AnySoldier.com) in your name at no additional cost to you.

3. After completing your order, send an email to your friends telling them how they too can have a book sent to a soldier.

4. Enjoy your book when it arrives.

5. Share this with all of your Facebook friends. Last year, Press 53 shipped more than 80 books to active-duty soldiers. This year, we would like to top that.

Thank you for caring and sharing.

Semper Fi to my fellow Marines and other servicemembers

2011-05-29T21:43:00.000-04:00

Did I invite you? An explanation regarding our new connection...

2011-05-28T18:29:00.008-04:00

A couple of days ago, I agreed to become the nonfiction editor of Prime Number Magazine. (More about this in a future blog.)

My good friend, Jeff Hess, e-mailed his congratulations and encouraged me to join Linkedin, a social networking site that does for business what Facebook does for our social lives: it connects us. All you have to do is enter the e-mail address of someone with whom you'd like to make a business connection, and Linkedin e-mails the message for you, something like, Tracy Crow would like to connect with you...

I'd been avoiding the whole Linkedin thing. In fact, I didn't give in to Facebook until about a year ago, about the same time I started this blog. But Jeff had a point. If I wanted to connect with great writers for the purpose of soliciting their best creative nonfiction, then I needed to be "Linkedin."

Setting up the profile page was simple enough. I easily uploaded a photo and entered employment information, happy I could now add the new editor's position. Next, my blog address and the Web address for Prime Number Magazine.

And then it happened. How, I'm still not exactly certain. Suddenly, my Blackberry, which was lying on the sofa beside me, began dinging with alarmity. I was receiving e-mail after e-mail. Dozens of e-mails, then tens of dozens. Ding-ding-ding...ding-ding-ding, like the winning slot machines at Vegas.

When I saw an "invite" sail off through cyberspace to the president of my college, I heard a voice like mine scream, "No, make it stop!" I pressed buttons. I checked box after box, as quickly as possible, beside the names of folks I hadn't contacted in years, hardly knew, or shouldn't anymore, then clicked "delete."

Too late.

Linkedin had a job to do, and apparently, the job was to connect me to my past, to everyone with whom I'd exchanged an e-mail, including the guy at Sir Speedy. Every contact in twenty years was "invited" to (re) connect with me through Linkedin. That should be a good thing, right?

Well, consider this short list:

The president of my college
The dean
My ex-husband
Another ex-husband
The ex-wife of an ex-husband
Every literary agent I contacted years ago when looking for representation
Every editor with whom I have or have not published, but shared an e-mail
The grandchildren of an ex-husband
Every former client when I sold real estate --Hello, Greenville!
Every professor
Every student
My former attorney
Every past employer and colleague
The dogs' vet

My past is catching up and about to run me over. Within minutes, an old flame quickly responded with "Thanks for the invite. Did you ever marry that baseball scout?"

Another, "I believe we've already 'connected.'" Followed by a wink. ;)

Ding-ding. Ding-ding.

Today, I turned off the Blackberry.

Get a little angry

2011-05-24T09:02:00.008-04:00

Last weekend, I returned to Queens University of Charlotte in North Carolina to read selections from EYES RIGHT and to participate on a panel about the publishing process.

Five others joined me on the publishing panel. Each had a different experience with specific lessons to share. One had usurped the entire agent process until after acceptance by a publisher; one discussed the process of finding an agent; another talked about soliciting and editing for an anthology.

I talked about the value of getting angry.

I told the story about how the initial rejection process of finding an agent after grad school only made me more determined...and a little angry...and compelled me to e-mail 20 query letters (19 to agents and 1 to the University of Nebraska Press) one Friday night when I was supposed to be packing for a vacation in Panama.

By Monday, the editor of Nebraska said she was interested in taking the project before the board for approval; the process, she explained would take several weeks. At least a dozen other agents asked me to e-mail the full manuscript, one of them even e-mailing early Saturday morning.

I never made it to Panama that week. I came down with the flu. But exactly one week from "getting angry" and sending out those 20 query letters, an agent called. I was in bed, nearly too sick to answer the phone, but the area code looked intriguing. I paced the house, as if miraculously cured of the flu, while he rambled on about what he liked about the book, which was mainly about how it had as much appeal to men as to women. I loved his impressive resume; he'd been an editor at several large houses before becoming an agent. I loved his enthusiasm. I needed his enthusiasm. Finally, someone outside of grad school professors and fellow writers was expressing a legitimacy about my work. I was so thirsty for this I'd have drank sand in the desert if it offered such a hint.

You'd think the story would end there, right? That obtaining the agent led to a publishing contract. Nope. By the way, the Nebraska Press decided three weeks afterward to pass because it was backlogged with so many titles it would take years to release mine, and since I'd recently signed with an agent, the board didn't think it fair to hold me up.

Unfortunately, agents don't always have success selling the manuscripts they're passionate about. Turns out, my agent didn't even try. A few months after signing the contract with him, he decided we should hold the memoir, and that I should write a military novel, instead. So, like a good little Marine who follows orders, I did. And he came close to selling the novel. But only close.

Fast forward two years (it takes time to write a novel and revise that novel several times, you know) to when I discovered his photo and bio were missing from the agency website. Have I mentioned he was with one of the oldest, most prestigious agencies in New York? I called. He'd left the business, said his apologetic colleague. "He plans to contact each of his clients," she said. But he never did.

That night, I got angry, again. I got so angry that I sent an updated query letter to the new editor of the University of Nebraska Press, explaining that Nebraska once had interest in the memoir and that my agent, former agent, hadn't taken the book anywhere, after all. I asked if she'd take another look.

Yes, she e-mailed. The rest, as they say, is history. Three weeks later, she had unanimous support from the board, and EYES RIGHT was green-lighted for publication.

So my advice to grad school friends this past weekend was to get angry. More importantly, to put positive action behind that anger. No one is going to care about your success more than you. Not your spouse, believe it or not, not your children, not even your mother.

So, if not you, who?

It's okay to get a little angry. It's okay to feel passionate about your work. It's okay NOT to quit. In fact, I beg you not to quit.

You could be one query letter from success.

On the road to publishing EYES RIGHT...

2011-05-17T14:14:00.004-04:00

We're several steps closer.

EYES RIGHT now has an ISBN and "cloth" information for the cover.

And yesterday, I received the copyedited manuscript. Thankfully, blissfully, the copyedits are light -- with one exception. The copyeditor has lowercased "Marine" to "marine."

Now, if you're one of my Facebook friends, you've already read the lengthy list of snarky comments regarding this, maybe even posted one or two. But to be fair to the copyeditor, the lowercase of Marine to marine is common in publishing, especially since publishers bow to Chicago style.

But what about bowing to hundreds of years of tradition? The word Marine is, technically, uppercased because the word is part of the actual title of "Marine Corps." At least, that's the story they're still telling recruits in boot camp.

For example, the word, soldier, is generic; therefore, soldier is not capitalized even when referring to someone within the U.S. Army, and neither is sailor. Coast Guardsman is capitalized, though.

Just the other day, I stumbled across a news story that stated the U.S. Army was now demanding that all references to soldier be capitalized. In fact, someone pretty high up there in the Army had sent the "order" to Webster for new inclusion in forthcoming dictionaries and to the Associated Press, which determines style usage for hundreds of newspapers. According to the article, the Army has suddenly had enough of what it considers favoritism toward Marines.

Was this, perhaps, also in response to the recent New York Times in-house style change? For more than a hundred years, the New York Times had been reporting Marines as marines. And then a sudden style shift to "Marines." Why? I don't know. Maybe someone on the Times staff, a former Marine, made a persuasive argument for bowing to hundreds of years of tradition?

So, what do I do about the hundred or so changes of Marine to marine within my own manuscript? I'm going to plead, shamelessly. I'll find her Achilles' heel -- chocolate, wine, puppies, Peeps -- and I'll bribe her with a lifetime supply.

Everyone has a price, and I'm willing to pay, BIG, not to offend my fellow Marines.

Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morning...

2011-05-13T14:40:00.003-04:00

...especially when our lovable neighbor, Wyatt the Basset Hound, wanders over to welcome us home.

Hello, Wyatt.

Hello, Summer of 2011.

Hello, Summer of Writing.

Hello, Summer of Great Expectations.

Marines in Afghanistan take on Britney Spears

2011-04-26T16:21:00.005-04:00

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Jury duty and Perry Mason

2011-04-07T14:52:00.005-04:00

I didn't relish waking at 5:30 today to prepare for jury duty. The courthouse is less than a half hour away, but being summoned for 8:15 means allowing a good hour's defense against rush hour traffic, and two dogs here require an extensive walk before leaving.

Along the drive, I made a mental note of everything I could have been doing if not for jury duty. I was so up in my head that not until hours later when I stood beside my car, diving into every compartment of my bag, finally dumping the contents of the entire bag onto the asphalt parking lot, did I realize I'd left my watch and car keys behind in the security line.

Inside the jury assembly room, however, a hundred or so of us stood and uttered oaths, several men tossing out jokes during pauses. "What usually works for a hardship excuse?" shouted one at the bailiff. When the first round of us was excused, a juror shouted "Bingo!" and "Anyone want to buy their way outta here?" The room erupted in laughter and soft applause.

During the second round of cuts, a disgruntled juror who hadn't been excused, shouted, "I'll trade with anyone who really gets a kick out of sitting on a jury -- some people love it, you know." The excused shuffled quietly toward the exit.

That's when I thought about Perry Mason. When I was a kid, I watched Perry Mason during visits to my grandmother's. I dreamed of being a lawyer, one as highly principled as Perry Mason. When I was about ten and finally old enough to walk the two blocks from my grandmother's house to the library, I went every day to read books about the law. I was reading words, really, hardly absorbing complicated concepts of legal cases. But even then, I seemed to have this notion that if I just showed up and tried, something good would come of it.

This is the same approach I take with my writing. Every day, I could make dozens of excuses for not showing up to write. There's always a college essay to grade, a condo to clean, dogs to walk.... But I have this notion that if I just show up, something good will eventually come from the effort.

But back inside the jury assembly room.... After twenty were called to the courtroom for a trial -- their juror numbers chosen randomly by a computer, so we were told -- most of us returned to our books and laptops. Some appeared lost in their thoughts; they stared at the podium just vacated by the bailiff, as if the bailiff would materialize again any second to excuse them.

By this point, I began to feel guilty about dreading this civic responsibility. Like voting, I should demand this right. My thoughts drifted to those behind the doors of upstairs courtrooms: how life, in a second, takes a twisted, often cruel, turn. Perhaps there's a teenager upstairs facing manslaughter charges because he was texting his girlfriend after baseball practice, and clipped a biker. Maybe a sleep-deprived mother who had failed to notice the brake lights of the car ahead, and rear-ended the car.

Our duty as jurors that morning was simple: show up.

BREVITY posts an interview with William Faulkner

2011-04-06T08:00:00.000-04:00

How great is this?

U.S. Air Force Captain Welcomed Home from Afghanistan by Her Doggy

2011-04-05T09:12:00.000-04:00

Along the road to publication of EYES RIGHT....

2011-04-04T12:46:00.004-04:00

I was visiting my daughter in Los Angeles last week during my spring break from the college. Never fails. For some reason, whenever I'm fortunate enough to be with Morgan, I get the best emails from my editors about the progress of publication for the memoir.

The routine is something like this -- I squeal over the newest development and Morgan comes running to hear the news.

Last week, emails came in from Cara and Sara. Cara is the publicity manager on the project, and so our discussions were about the book blurbs I've generated for EYES RIGHT, and about the other writers who have agreed to blurb the book. Cara recommends we ask these writers, instead, for reviews since we have generous blurbs for the back cover. Makes sense.

Sara is in charge of the much-important copyediting process, which will begin April 28 and take two weeks. I'll receive the "redline" to review, and I'll have between May 16 and June 6 to return for comments, revisions, etc.

A question for my published friends: Is there a way to prepare for the redline? For example, I've already started a mini copyediting list of things I want to consider such as changing Kaddhafi to Gadhafi. Yes, Gadhafi is actually mentioned in my memoir. :) Friends -- am I on the right track? What else should I be doing?

A blog to follow

2011-03-26T23:19:00.006-04:00

For all the former women Marines who check in from time to time...did you know the Women Marines Association has a blog? Please check it out here.

In a league of her own

2011-03-23T20:04:00.003-04:00

Richard Burton once said this about making love to the siren, "All she has to do is lie there and be Elizabeth Taylor."

North Carolina State teacher finds self-publishing success

2011-03-21T15:03:00.003-04:00

My grad school friend, Ann Wicker, shared this link yesterday on Facebook, and stirred up an interesting debate regarding the current plight of publishing.

So...are writers, agents, editors, and readers ready for a new business model?

Super Full Moon tonight

2011-03-19T09:19:00.004-04:00

For the first time in 18 years, the moon will be its closest to the earth.

http://abcnews.go.com/Technology/super-moon-miss-rare-full-moon-tonight/story?id=13168322

Canadian commander gives EYES RIGHT command to honor little Belgian boy

2011-03-12T10:09:00.002-05:00

Is this adorable, or what?

Managing expectations

2011-03-10T10:20:00.006-05:00

Last week, I was in Phoenix, Arizona, visiting my husband during Spring Training. I love this time of the year. Ahhh...the expectations surrounding a new baseball season...the players working hard for those few, precious positions....

This is about managing expectations. Mine, mostly. And not about baseball. Here's what happened last week.

I was sitting in the family section of the stadium. Like my husband this year, most of the coaching staff is new, and so this was cause for lots of introductions among the wives of the coaching staff. Discussions soon turned from what our husbands do to what we do. Over the course of a few days, the news I have a book being released weaved its way into conversation.

It happened nonchalantly. It fact, it happened because the attorney/manager of several coaches was sitting among us, and he mentioned he has six children, four of them, Marines. I couldn't resist. Of course, I had to tell him I'd been a Marine for 10 years. Turns out, he has a daughter in the Marines, and she's a captain, if I remember correctly.

He was excited to hear about my memoir. "You're covering sexual harassment, right?" His face twisted with fatherly concern.

Pause.

(The answer is yes. Somewhat. But I'm still so torn about this subject. Despite how horrid I consider sexual harassment, I don't believe sexual harassment is at all limited to the Marines. It's a societal problem, in general, at least to my way of thinking.)

"Because," he said, "sexual harassment is just as bad in the Marines today as ever, according to my daughter."

There among the beauty of a new baseball field with all its promise of esprit de corps, with a view of a craggy mountain range under a cloudless, painfully blue Arizona sky, I felt my spirits sink. Really? Sexual harassment is as bad today in the Marines as it was twenty-plus years ago?

"I'm looking so forward to reading your book," he said, as if convinced I'm about to blow the lid off the whole problem, and my mind raced ahead with concerns for managing his expectations, and mine.

A wake-up call to remember

2011-03-07T15:42:00.002-05:00

Is this great, or what? I'm such a Capt. Kirk/Trekkie fan. This gives me chills.

What happens around page 150....

2011-02-27T08:26:00.007-05:00

Like many writers, I teach for a living. I'm not (yet!) one of those few -- around 50 -- writers who can claim to make a living from their writing.

So, mostly I have to write in spurts. My biggest spurt of writing momentum happens in the summer, of course, when I'm in North Carolina. Last summer was no exception. By August, I'd plowed my way to page 150 of a novel set in a small North Carolina town with three quirky women and the even quirkier ways they've chosen to overcome and move beyond the tragedies of their lives. I left North Carolina excited with my progress, and certain I would find a way to complete the second half before the next summer, intending to spend the next summer on intensive revisions.

It's nearly March now, and I'm no further ahead. Why? Because I began to question the validity of the project. Every novel I read seemed better than mine, more provocative, more...significant.

My good friend Jeff Hess spelled it out for me. I'm paraphrasing here -- It's our job as writers to write, he said, and to let others decide the value. Whoa. Something internal shifted, something subterranean cracked. Rays of light burst forth.

He's right, of course. This novel is begging to be written. The characters have become so real I dream of them, hear their stories, feel their pain, empathize with their motives and actions, however self-destructive.

So, maybe I won't finish the last 150 pages by the time I leave Florida for North Carolina in May. At least now I know I will finish. The when is hardly relevant.

Book recommendation: Suzanne Somers' SEXY FOREVER

2011-02-20T19:22:00.007-05:00

When hot flashes left me dripping wet in front of my students about ten years ago, I began a program of bio-identical hormones, thanks to the information I learned from Suzanne Somers' first book. I was 42 with the body chemistry of a 60-something woman, according to my doctor.

How had this happened? A partial hysterectomy in my mid-thirties had thrown me into premature menopause. My first doctor said, "Deal with it." You know, I can deal with a lot, but when your clothes are suddenly drenched in front of your teenage students, or you rise from a teachers' meeting, leaving behind a wet puddle on the seat of your leather chair, and you alter your lifestyle toward hermit stage to avoid such problems, it's time for action.

Thanks to Suzanne Somers and the publicity platform surrounding her, I learned there was help, and with bio-identical hormones, I've been a different woman ever since.

Now, Suzanne has a new book, and this book has also changed my life. Within this one, she discusses the problems with our food supply and the need to eat as organic as we can afford. But she also talks about how many of us are living with undiagnosed food intolerances that can lead to all sorts of digestive problems such as Crohn's. Bingo.

A flare-up of severe pain a few weeks ago landed me in the emergency room. The first scary prognosis from the ER doc was that I had an aorta aneurysm -- which is what tragically and suddenly killed actor John Ritter. Next, it was appendicitis, and ER docs were explaining that I would be in the hospital for three days of recovery after surgery, etc.

So, imagine everyone's total surprise when the CT scan revealed I have Crohn's. Shocking. Frightening. All that. Fortunately, we've caught this early enough so that I'll probably never need surgery. But what's causing Crohn's and what now...?

I took the blood test recommended by Suzanne Somers in her book. Sure enough, the results were just as shocking as the Crohn's discovery. Turns out, I'm allergic to a number of my favorite foods and to those I hardly ever digest. While I'd assumed I must be allergic to gluten, given certain reactions, it turns out I'm actually allergic to wheat (and corn!), instead. I'm also allergic to cherries, strawberries, pears, bananas, spinach, asparagus, broccoli, macadamia and Brazil nuts, certain fish such as catfish and mussels, beef, pork, turkey, and the list goes on.

Now, as Somers (and my doctor) explain, I won't have to give up these foods forever. Some, except for cherries and macadamia nuts, which tested the most dangerous for me, may be re-introduced over time, but at a minimum. For example, turkey at Thanksgiving only.

I can live with that.

5 young girls sing the national anthem...amazing!

2011-02-20T13:30:00.000-05:00

New pub release date, new title

2011-02-19T09:31:00.002-05:00

I've learned the memoir won't be released this fall, after all, but sometime around April 2012.

At first, I was disappointed. Questions from my assistant editor about chapter design, the inclusion of personal photos, etc., felt as if the process toward publication was picking up steam.

But April 2012 has a pretty ring to it, don't you think? Spring, when I have a much lighter teaching load and a summer in North Carolina ahead of me -- all those possible Carolina book readings.... So, around April 2012. I'm liking this more and more.

And now my editor and the marketing department are tossing around a modification to the title: Eyes Right, Confessions from a Woman Marine.

I like it.

Along the way toward the release of the memoir...

2011-02-10T12:41:00.003-05:00

Last summer, I rambled about needing to capture just the right photo for the book jacket. I have no idea what "the right photo" necessarily means. Smile, or no smile? Artsy or folksy? Accessible or slightly mysterious? Casual attire, business, or something in between?

Then I read the instructions from the Press. No hands under the chin or near the face. A torso shot so that it's obvious I have two shoulders and two arms (this might read slightly discriminatory to a particular group, though I'm sure it wasn't meant to read so...), and against a white background. I'm guessing a white background allows all sorts of wiggle room for the marketing design team.

So about ten days ago, I trotted across town to a local, well-known studio for the shoot. The fabulous makeup artist, Linny Correa, who did the makeup for my wedding a couple of years ago, also showed up to help show me at my best.

When you're 52, this becomes a challenge. Dark circles under the eyes require the careful, artful layering of concealer because it's actually less expensive to pay Linny to work her magic than it is to pay the photographer for his Photoshop magic.

During the shoot, my daughter, Morgan (model/actress), who had flown in for a visit, was also on hand. Linny stood by with hairspray, comb, and lipgloss. "Chin up, pull the right shoulder down," directed the photographer who was standing on a ladder. "What on earth are you thinking about?" she asked. "Whatever it is, keep thinking it..." Click. Flash. Click. Flash.

I know what I was thinking: try not to embarrass Morgan. At some point in every mother's life, I'm convinced she worries about embarrassing her children. When they're young, we love to tease and slightly embarrass them with behavior like breaking into a fierce rendition of Madonna as she's blasting through the car speakers....

Then one day it happens. Our daughters are grown, and have somehow at their age experienced even more than we. For example, Morgan knows how to perfectly steam and de-flesh an artichoke. She didn't learn this from me.

A few days later, I returned to the studio to look over the proofs. In my day as a photographer, you looked at a contact sheet through a loupe. Now, they flash your images on an enormous projector screen that nearly covers a wall in the photographer's office. If you're not prepared, this can be quite alarming, and humiliating.

"This one, or this one," the photographer asked, flashing two photographs at a time, reminding me of eye exams, "Number 1, or number 2?"

I narrowed the field from 48 to 4, leaving the final choice to my editor.

USA Cares organization saves the day for veterans

2011-02-08T09:21:00.004-05:00

USA Cares really does care. This organization is working hard to save the homes of our veterans from foreclosure.

The way I understand it, veterans (mostly reservists) who bought homes years ago under financial qualifications based on their civilian salaries -- who could have predicted an 11-year war? -- have lost their civilian salaries because of constant deployments to the Middle East.

Now, our veterans have to worry about losing their homes, as well. Read more about this in the USA Today.

Living single in a married life

2011-02-06T17:23:00.009-05:00

My husband left last night for Spring Training. He won't be home for 67 days. Even then, he'll show up for two days, work through most of it, and fly off again to another city for three days of baseball games, then off again to another city for three baseball games...you get the picture, right?

Yesterday was the beginning of our fourth baseball season together. While the separation process doesn't get easier, the carving out of a single life while married does.

Because my husband is home so infrequently, I tend to shove aside my private life for "our" life. Once he leaves, however, I return to my life, which is all about the writing, the reading, and the taking better care of myself.

For example, my husband would eat bologna sandwiches on white bread every day if I didn't fuss so. You've heard the saying, "The whiter the bread, the sooner you're dead!" I try not to think about all the unhealthy club sandwiches and French fries he's downing after each baseball game in his hotel room while he prepares his scouting reports way into the night.

He hadn't been gone an hour when I tossed out the ice cream, cookies, half-empty bags of potato chips. I would eat it all if I didn't. Now, the fridge is full of healthy stuff, the kind of stuff that would cause my husband to groan, "Isn't there anything in here to eat?"

But, I woke this morning and reached across our bed for him. Instead, I found
Cash curled up against his daddy's pillow. Cash looked at me, confused. "Yes, Honey," I said. "Daddy went bye-bye for a long time." Cash lowered his head and closed his eyes. He's depressed. So am I. My husband is Mr. Excitement, a tornado of energy, a force of jokes-laughter-chatter, and right now in the too-quiet of early morning, with rain drip-drip-dripping on the skylight above our bed, I am all too aware of the quiet stretch of single life that looms ahead.

On turning 52

2011-01-20T14:13:00.004-05:00

I turn 52 today. A Facebook friend asked whether he should stop wishing me a happy birthday, given my age.

Are you kidding me? I LOVE birthdays. Sure, I don't relish the obvious -- that I'm aging. But birthdays are a New Year's Day to me. A time for reflection. A time to determine the kind of life I wish to create for myself going forth.

So, let's pretend I'm about to blow out the candles on a birthday cake. I'm not superstitious enough to believe I can't share this wish. In fact, this year's wish is the same wish for eight-plus years.

I wish for a writerly life. That's all.

So, what does that mean, exactly? For me, a writerly life means never giving up on my writing. To seek methods of improvement: getting feedback from other writers; reading great work; attending at least one writer's workshop or seminar this year; and most importantly, believing I'm worthy of every minute I spend writing rather than cleaning out my closet, drawers, or attic.

Here's to turning 52!

Writer Jessica Handler featured in VANITY FAIR

2011-01-11T09:56:00.003-05:00

I've blogged before about my friend Jessica Handler and her wonderful memoir, Invisible Sisters.

Today's issue of Vanity Fair, the one with pop star Justin Bieber plastered in kisses on the cover, features a group of amazing writers from Atlanta. Be sure to pick up a copy to see the belles of literati.

Here's a sneak peek!

http://clatl.com/culturesurfing/archives/2011/01/10/atlantas-literary-belles-hit-the-pages-of-vanity-fair

Coyotes at the camp

2011-01-10T14:50:00.004-05:00

The other night about 10, my husband motioned for me to turn down the TV volume. What we heard outside our home was enough to cause a shiver.

We opened the back door, and listened to the pack of coyotes that were out there, somewhere, in the back pasture of the dairy farm behind us. The cows were mournfully moaning, and we worried about the tiniest calves we'd seen just that afternoon, stumbling behind their mothers.

A few minutes later, the pack of howling coyotes had moved to the right of our place, and were in our yard. My husband went out with the flashlight, and this was enough to run them off.

About this same time in the evenings, our neighbors let Wyatt, their Basset Hound, out for his last romp. He sometimes trudges through the acres of thick brush and woods to our place for a late-night snack. We called to warn them about the coyotes....

Here's a sample of what we heard (found this online):

Let us not forget

2011-01-08T10:13:00.002-05:00

In this year ahead, may each of us find some way to honor those who are serving our nation. In our actions. In our hearts. In our prayers.

So you want to write a novel

2011-01-07T15:09:00.003-05:00

This video is hilarious and sad, and a great depiction of the writing process and business.

Do it again!

2011-01-05T07:21:00.000-05:00

Made you laugh, I hope!

Happy New Year!

2011-01-01T10:29:00.003-05:00

Every New Year's Day, since I was old enough to write, my mother would send my kid brother and me upstairs to our bedrooms to write down our New Year's resolutions. 1) Keep my room clean 2) Be nicer to my brother 3) Finish all my homework....

I still write down resolutions. They've shifted through the years from "lose weight this year" to "take better care of myself" and from "write a new book" to "never give up on the writing."

Wishing you love, peace, health, and prosperity in the coming year!

Wyatt goes skating on our pond

2010-12-21T09:56:00.004-05:00

By now, you've probably read a post or two about our neighbors' lovable Basset Hound, Wyatt. (The photo to the left was taken last week. Wyatt is in our backyard with Cash's bone.)

Yesterday, I was on the phone with my mother when I glanced out the window. Wyatt was out in the middle of our frozen pond, slipping and sliding. I panicked, nearly shattering my mother's eardrum.

Out the door I ran, both Cash and Molly in tow, eager to share in the unexpected burst of excitement.

Amazing how many images the mind can conjure in the few seconds it took me to run toward the front porch. I saw Wyatt plunking through the ice and futilely reaching for safety -- his short-fat legs useless for this activity. I saw myself shouting to the 9-1-1 operator as I slid down the front porch steps and along the icy path toward the pond. Heard me calling "It's okay, Wyatt, I'm coming!" as I reached the end of the dock. Saw myself screaming toward the tops of the trees for the sound of a siren. Saw myself finally scooting out on the ice toward Wyatt....

Of course, none of this happened. When he heard me call, he trudged toward the house along the slick surface of the pond, stopping to lift his leg on both pylons at the end of the dock while I kept calling, "Wyatt, Wyatt-come, cookies, treats!" By the time he reached the shore, I was in tears. He walked up the path and climbed the steep, icy front porch steps where Cash and Molly greeted him.

Minutes later, after downing several doggie biscuits, Wyatt was asleep on Molly's bed, and snoring.

Countdown to deadline

2010-12-17T12:10:00.008-05:00

Just seven more days.

In seven days, I'll pack up the memoir manuscript and all the required CDs of the manuscript and photos for possible inclusion, and ship everything to my editor in Nebraska. After that, I cross my fingers that everything meets her final approval.

Part of this process to publication involves the completion of a 5-page Author Information Form, which when completed, amounts to roughly 15 pages. Working on this has been quite interesting. Besides the usual information -- preferred form of contact, etc. -- are questions related to the design of the book, itself.

Like this one: List 3-4 adjectives that describe the tone of your book....this information will be used to determine the book cover and jacket....

That's pretty weighty stuff, don't you think? Just 3 or 4 words to determine so much? I've spent a great deal of time mulling this over. I've been trying to achieve distance, to see my memoir as a stranger might.

So, the first word that comes to mind? Provocative. Yep, provocative makes the short list.

The next word, reflective. Then again, aren't all memoirs reflective?

Insightful comes to mind. After all, this is a memoir that not only reflects my experiences and shortcomings in the Marines but the contributions made by an entire generation of women Marines during the 1980s.

Funny? I hope so. I'm no stranger to self-deprecation, and this book is certainly full of that.

Intriguing? The memoir opens with an interrogation at MP headquarters....

So, another 7 days to contemplate the 3-4 adjectives that will determine my first book cover and jacket. A daunting task.

It's beginning to look like Christmas

2010-12-15T18:36:00.003-05:00

Here we are. Finally. Back in our little cabin in North Carolina where an inch or two of snow is predicted for tomorrow. (The photo is from last year's first snowfall.)

We weren't here two hours when the block of ice around the base of the fountain tripped the power, shutting down the fountain until the next great thaw, which from what I can tell, is somewhere around April. And a pressure valve inside the well house burst, soaking the insulation and turning the elbow of our driveway into a hockey rink.

But we don't care.

We've happily filled the bird feeders, and the Cardinals and Blue Jays are hopping everywhere. We've walked the property, taking note of the tracks from the neighbor's cows that slipped through the old fence.

We arrived yesterday at 2, and Wyatt, our neighbor's Basset Hound, showed up at 2:05 to welcome us back.

We're home.

Free a Marine to fight: One woman's desire to serve

2010-11-28T21:50:00.002-05:00

http://thetimes-tribune.com/lifestyles-people/anee-kish-s-decision-freed-a-marine-for-combat-1.1067415?sms_ss=facebook&at_xt=4cf2a4a631b7e769%2C0

A poem for Sunday: "Black Dirt" by Helen Wallace

2010-11-14T09:33:00.008-05:00

Every time I read from Helen's collection of poems in Shimming the Glass House, I am always rewarded with her provocative, insightful view of the world.

"Black Dirt"

We're more than we can sink our teeth into
though sometimes just that's
enough. Ours is the pit and the fruit
and the black dirt deeper than both.

But savoring is the body's state of praise --
you taught me this. You with your probing
turn of phrase found me waiting at the table.
Even now, after almost twenty years,

we should toast that sanctifying moment
when everything dissolves on our tongues
in a wash of brilliant red. Don't think
we leave too much unsaid,

the whole world's chanting desire:
the gingko, maidenhair tree,
loses her leaves like a woman lets her hair
down on a love. Feel the flush

of words. Taste them as the hummingbird
tastes jewelweed in a brambled field,
so sweet it makes his red throat tremble.
And the fern, there, beneath the pine,

see how it dances for a touch known only
as wind? Don't think too much is left
unspoken. Listen. Everywhere
the world's ripe and hungry.

Going to Haiti

2010-11-13T10:40:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, I booked a trip to Haiti. That's right. Haiti. Earthquake ravaged, politically challenged, cholera ridden Haiti.

And, I can't wait.

I'm taking one of my college newspaper editors. Our goal is to bring back the stories and photographs of Haiti, one year after the devastating earthquake.

We're departing in January, on my birthday. Fitting. Lately, I've been feeling complacent. Too safe. It's time to do something, really do something that gives a voice to the voiceless.

So, Haiti.

My editor and I will accompany a group of folks from all over the country for what's called a "Vision Trip" with the Global Orphan Project. The trip lasts five days. And during those five days, we will interact with the children of the orphanage.

Remembering our veterans: Tim McGraw's "If you're reading this"

2010-11-11T08:05:00.002-05:00

When you discover you're related to Thomas Jefferson

2010-11-03T09:09:00.005-04:00

Last week, I discovered that my great-grandmother (maternal side) was the granddaughter of Thomas Jefferson. This, if I've counted correctly, makes me Jefferson's great-great-great granddaughter.

Something in my universe shifted that day. I'm not sure what, or even yet how to define this mental and emotional subtle shift, except that being linked to such a historical figure suddenly feels a bit overwhelming, and exciting.

My Facebook friends weighed in: "There's something about the eyes...." teased one. "Tracy for president in 2014," chimed another. "Wow!" wrote a half-dozen others. "This means you need to move back to Virginia and claim your rightful place at Monticello," joked another. And, "This means you're related to Sally Hemmings!" wrote a professor-friend from the University of West Virginia.

I've always felt strangely connected to Thomas Jefferson since my 7th grade Virginia history class. I chalked it up to a love of history -- to a profound admiration of one's bravery to stand for high principles. At 12, I was looking for heroes. Thomas Jefferson, along with Patrick Henry, were two of my heroes.

On learning of this family discovery, my daughter sent the text, "Where's my invitation to the White House? Don't I own some land somewhere?" Later, we shared a long, deep laugh.

The one time I traveled to Monticello, the home was closed for repairs. I'd stood beside the car for a few minutes, unable to leave. I was reeling from a sudden wave of isolation -- as if someone from the Jefferson family had just slammed the door in my face. Millions have walked these grounds, but you're not welcome, or worthy.

I plan to visit Monticello this summer. I plan to take my time there, too. I have this romantic notion that the universe (within me) will shift once again as I explore the home built by my great-great-great grandfather.

The power of subliminal messages

2010-11-02T16:33:00.003-04:00

This is a warning: Think carefully about the items you leave lying around on your desk, or anywhere else, for that matter.

If you've been a devoted blog follower (thank you!), you might recall my post a few months ago about creating vision boards and about how I'd received everything I'd ever posted on my vision board: the publication of my memoir, the new love in my life, a new puppy, a home with a dock on the water, etc.

So recently, my husband made a bold move. After 13 years with a particular baseball team, he decided he'd rather work for another team. One thing led to another, and a few weeks later, he signed an impressive multi-year contract with another team.

What does this have to do with desk items and vision boards?

As we were settling into a fall break at the North Carolina cabin last week, I looked over at my husband's desk. The photo of his parents on their wedding day needed dusting. I wiped it off. And that's when I noticed the two photographs of my husband and me. One had been taken in the very stadium of the team my husband just joined; the other was taken at Fenway while the Red Sox were playing the very team my husband just joined -- hence the photograph includes the name of our new team.

Now, neither of us had ever talked about or considered a move to another team in the three years we've been together. Yet, the only photographs of us together in baseball stadiums in three years include this new team.

Coincidence? A gift from the subliminal message gods?

I'm not sure. What I do know for sure is that writers learn early on that relying on coincidence in their storytelling is cheap and gimmicky. Yet life is fraught with coincidence. If only for verisimilitude, shouldn't fiction include just a hint of coincidence?

Trapping "Super Coon"

2010-10-28T08:55:00.008-04:00

We have a raccoon in our attic. At least, we think it's a raccoon. The wildlife expert took one look at the muddy fingerprints climbing the corners of our house and disappearing beyond the pushed open vinyl soffits and said, "Yep, that's a coon."

So, we set a trap.

And, less than a half hour later, success.

Sorta.

We trapped the neighbor's Chihuahua, Piggy. Apparently, Piggy loves sardines, too.

So, the saga continues. Every night, we reset the trap with sardines or tuna or something. (Today's bait-du-jour is green apples. Cross your fingers.)

But every morning, we hear the raccoon return around 6:30 from an all-nighter of who-knows-what. We've even followed the tracks leading to the pond. The wildlife guy tells us raccoons have to wash off everything they eat.

Right now, my husband and I are on the same page: we want to humanely trap "Super Coon." Even the wildlife guy is with us on this. For now. But how much longer? And how much more money are we willing to spend before resorting to one of the less favorable options?

For now, we're playing nice, Super Coon.

What an honor

2010-10-26T06:24:00.014-04:00

Mary Akers, editor of the journal, r.kv.r.y., explains why she chose to publish my work. You can read more about Mary and her work here.

Showcasing the Work of Tracy Crow

by Mary Akers

I first became aware of Tracy Crow's work when I heard her read at an open mic night in downtown Charlotte, NC. The room was buzzing with the kind of noise that a bar on a Saturday night generates and I was preparing to be that person--the one who gives a loud "Shhhh!" to try to quiet down the room--but I didn't get the chance. Tracy walked on stage and the first wave of noise quieted. She's got a commanding presence thanks to an utterly appealing combination of runway model looks and Marine Corps officer panache. (Read the rest of Mary's comments here.)

Ahh...this one's for all the amazing women in my life

2010-10-25T18:25:00.002-04:00

A poem for Sunday

2010-10-24T05:12:00.000-04:00

I use this lovely poem by my friend, Susan Meyers, to teach techniques such as enjambment, use of metaphor, sensory language, and imagery.

But, frankly, I use this poem in my creative writing classes because I just love it so much.

Susan dedicated this poem to her mother....

That Year

When the black-eyed susans begin to bloom

in the backyard, and the moonbeam coreopsis

bursts into tiny stars, I think of the year

I banished yellow from my life. It was the year

I dug up the lantana, when I didn’t plant

narcissus and all the buttery bulbs

but chose white, and a little blue, for the garden

without knowing that I was readying

for two long years of her dying. The next spring

I painted our kitchen, once a lemony gloss, ecru.

I threw out from my closet all the blouses

hinting, from their hangers, of glad canaries.

Beginning that fall I dressed in a dull haze

of beige, toning myself down for the end.

I ignored the incandescence of morning, the amber

of dusk, and leaned to clouds billowed in black.

The week in November she died I loaded the trunk

of my car with flats of pansies, three sacks of bulbs.

I wanted my hands working the dirt, a dark loam

that would spring into jonquils, daffodils—bright

coronas of yellow, and yellow, and yellow.

The gang's all here: One happy reunion in North Carolina

2010-10-22T16:21:00.003-04:00

After a two-month absence, we're finally back at "the camp" for ten days. I'm already wondering how I'll ever leave here for Florida again. If not for my students...that's all I can say: If not for my students.... (It's fall break right now.)

This morning before sunrise, our neighbor's Basset Hound, Wyatt, showed up. I have to wonder if he's made an appearance every morning for eight weeks. Has he been climbing over and under the brush of acres between his home and ours with a heart filled with hope?

If so, this morning paid off. Wyatt barked so loud and long when he saw my husband that he stirred up a cacophony of mooing from the cows in the back pasture and the geese on a nearby pond.

And so, the routine between Wyatt and Cash has resumed: Wyatt waters everything on our front porch and every bush in the backyard, and Cash waters behind him. The side porch is a bit smelly and spotty right now, but what's a little pee among old friends.

Best of the Web nomination for "What I Can Tell You Now"

2010-10-15T09:19:00.008-04:00

Mary Akers, editor of the literary journal R.KV.R.Y, nominated my essay, "What I Can Tell You Now," for competition in Dzanc's Best of the Web competition. I'm so honored and thrilled.

Congratulations to fellow nominees, Jessica Handler and Jeff Hess.

Friend-writer Jeff Hess and his "Weight of the Moment" featured by journal editor

2010-10-05T11:42:00.008-04:00

Editor Mary Akers blogs about why she chose Jeff Hess' "Weight of the Moment" for R.KV.R.Y. http://www.rkvry.com/blog

Read Jeff's provocative story at http://rkvry.com/fiction/143-jeffery-hess

Who says women aren't fit for combat?

2010-10-04T10:50:00.000-04:00

A Sunday quote from D.H. Lawrence

2010-10-03T05:59:00.002-04:00

A man has no religion who has not slowly and painfully gathered one together, adding to it, shaping it; and one's religion is never complete and final, it seems, but must always be undergoing modification.

Friday's Book Club Recommendation: BURNING BRIGHT by Ron Rash

2010-09-26T18:19:00.003-04:00

Sorry, I'm late with my recommendation this week. The book I finished...well, it won a number of awards, but it's not a book I would recommend to any group outside an M.F.A. creative writing program.

So, I'm following the adage that if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.

But, when it comes to Ron Rash, I'm a huge fan. While I have yet to read this collection of short stories -- it's on the way as I write this! -- I've no doubt BURNING BRIGHT deserves all the praise (and the recently awarded prestigious Frank O'Connor award) it's receiving.

This, from the publisher, HarperCollins:

New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Ron Rash is "a storyteller of the highest rank" (Jeffrey Lent) and has won comparisons to John Steinbeck, Cormac McCarthy, and Gabriel García Márquez. It is rare that an author can capture the complexities of a place as though it were a person, and rarer still that one can reveal a land as dichotomous and fractious as Appalachia—a muse; a siren; a rugged, brutal landscape of exceptional beauty, promise, and suffering—with the honesty and precision of a photograph. "If you haven't heard of the Southern writer Ron Rash, it is time you should" (The Plain Dealer).

In Burning Bright, the stories span the years from the Civil War to the present day, and Rash's historical and modern settings are sewn together in a hauntingly beautiful patchwork of suspense and myth, populated by raw and unforgettable characters mined from the landscape of Appalachia. In "Back of Beyond," a pawnshop owner who profits from the stolen goods of local meth addicts—including his own nephew—comes to the aid of his brother and sister-in-law when they are threatened by their son. The pregnant wife of a Lincoln sympathizer alone in Confederate territory takes revenge to protect her family in "Lincolnites." And in the title story, a woman from a small town marries an outsider; when an unknown arsonist starts fires in the Smoky Mountains, her husband becomes the key suspect.

In these stories, Rash brings to light a previously unexplored territory, hidden in plain sight—first a landscape, and then the dark yet lyrical heart and the alluringly melancholy soul of his characters and their home.

My (risque) essay published today in R.KV.R.Y

2010-09-23T09:22:00.005-04:00

What I can tell you now...

http://rkvry.com/essays/128-tracy-crow

Friday's Book Club Recommendation: IN AN UNCHARTED COUNTRY by Clifford Garstang

2010-09-18T09:18:00.004-04:00

I've been winding my way through this short story collection for a couple of weeks now, and wow! No wonder this collection is winning award after award. Do you participate in a book club? Why not recommend this short story collection, In an Uncharted Country, for next month.

From the publisher, PRESS 53:
The award-winning stories that make up the linked collection IN AN UNCHARTED COUNTRY showcase ordinary men and women in and around Rugglesville, Virginia, as they struggle to find places and identities in their families and the community. They experience natural disasters, a sun-worshipping cult, Vietnam flashbacks, kidnapping, addiction, and loss. The book’s opening story, “Flood, 1978,” follows Hank, who comes to understand his father’s deep sense of grief over the death of his wife. Later, in “Hand-painted Angel,” Hank’s sons see the family spinning apart as their father ages and family secrets are disclosed. In “The Clattering of Bones,” Walt mourns the collapse of his marriage after the loss of a child, but in the collection’s title story he recognizes his emotional need for family. The concluding story, “Red Peony,” unifies the collection, as many of the characters from other stories come together for a tumultuous 4th of July Celebration.

A poem for Sunday

2010-09-12T08:40:00.004-04:00

This is one of my favorite villanelle poems, in which the first and third lines of the first stanza repeat throughout the poem. In Elizabeth Bishop's One Art,the technique provides a particularly haunting, lovely, memorable quality.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

~ Elizabeth Bishop
(1911-1979)

Friday's Book Club Recommendation: Announcing the 2010 Man Booker Prize finalists

2010-09-10T09:26:00.002-04:00

In lieu of actually recommending a book today, I'm providing a link to the exciting announcement of finalists for the Man Booker Prize. These books will definitely make my reading list.

http://www.themanbookerprize.com/news/stories/1451

Happy 50th Anniversary to the Women Marines Association

2010-09-07T10:47:00.002-04:00

It's a woman thing: an exciting discovery I have to share

2010-09-06T07:15:00.006-04:00

The benefit of a blog subtitle, The Musings of a Relentless Writer, is that it provides for all sorts of leeway.

So, here's my first-ever product endorsement. And no, I'm not being financially compensated. I'm just too excited about this discovery to keep it to myself!

I've tried nearly every foundation on the market. Mineral makeup, forget it. Dries out my skin. Tinted moisturizers, not enough coverage, or too oily, or too light, or too dark....

But now, this product from Dr. Perricone, one of the leaders in the anti-aging arena. This No Foundation Foundation comes in one shade. I'm not sure how this is possible, but this one shade works for all of us. In places where I need extra coverage, I apply a little heavier. The finish is dewy, thanks to the incredible sunscreen protection. For a matte finish, touch up with powder.

I've been using this product for several weeks now, and not once have I had to reapply during the day. Finally, a foundation that's not only healthy for my skin but holds up against this Florida humidity.

Love it!

Taking nothing for granted...especially LOVE

2010-09-05T08:50:00.001-04:00

Danny & Annie from StoryCorps on Vimeo.

(A big thanks to friend, Mary Akers, for sharing this with her friends.)

So you want to write a book...now what? (Part 2)

2010-09-04T15:03:00.007-04:00

I've never been a morning person, so for years I ignored the advice of notable authors who insisted that the writing must be accomplished in the morning. That is, until this past summer, when I finally realized that the only way I would ever find true happiness and harmony in my life would be to write first. In other words, to rise early enough to write in the morning before everything and everyone began intruding upon my thoughts.

I write a thousand words a day. Period. Sometimes I spend a great deal of time on revising, on changing a few words from the days and weeks before to better words, but the writing session doesn't end each morning until I've forwarded the novel another one thousand words.

This isn't easy, believe me. Some mornings, I pray the phone will ring, a family member will suddenly need me, and I'll have an excuse to quit -- for the day, anyway. The problem with writing at 5 a.m. is that few people, outside of a true emergency, will disturb you: so this, too, has become both a curse and a blessing.

Until this past summer, I also resisted the advice that writers must write every day. Until this past summer.... ;)

Here's what famous author, Andre Dubus, had to say about writing a novel:

If there's anything I have to say to anyone who's starting a novel, it's this: Finish it. One thing, of course, is certain: Unless you finish it, it'll never be published. But there's another thing which is perhaps more important: In many cases, you'll never know whether your novel is good or not until you've finished it.

I believe most writers, while working on a novel, are attacked by doubts; they go to bed at night and wonder if what they're working on is really worth the effort. I always feel this way; I assume I'm like most people, not utterly alone in this, and others are going through some variation of the same difficulty.
The easiest course is to stop working on the novel, to tell your wife or husband and closest friends that it was actually a bad idea and you've decided to lay it aside and think of something new. And since that's the easiest course, it's probably also the most suspect. Because finally writing a novel takes a lot of endurance, and if you can find an honorable way to stop, then you'll feel much better.
A friend of mine once said, I believe in inspiration, but it comes on page 10. He was speaking of short stories and he was saying that most of the writing is pure hard work, that finally--with, God's blessing and luck and whatever else--there might be some period of respite, when words, and even pages, come easily.

The problem is, of course, enlarged when you're working on a novel which may take a year or two or more to finish. You are faced with a succession of days of hard, rarely inspired work which must be approached with the discipline of a committed athlete. There is another side to this, though: Because the work is tough, because it drains you daily, because you are always un-certain about its value, your own commitment to it becomes heroic. This is perhaps more than a consolation; it may be the very reason for getting up each day, for working and living.

Which brings me to the final and--I believe--most important point. Novels are written in the same way that farms are made productive, or houses are kept clean, or baseball pennant races are won: with steady work each day. This means that you get up every morning uninspired, perhaps annoyed by a cold or bills or what have you, and work.

Or, if you have a job, you cut your cocktail hour to a quarter of an hour so your head will be clear, and after dinner you go to your desk and stay there for two or three hours. Two or three hours doesn't seem like much, but when you're doing it five or six days a week, for a year or more, it's plenty.

My editor at Dial Press once told me that the prolific writers are those who turn out 500 or 1,000 words a day; even if most of it isn't good, he said, you're ahead of the game. I think that's absolutely true. But the point here is not to talk about being prolific. It's to discuss the beginning and completion of one book-length manuscript. And to do this, most writers have to stick to a definite schedule and allow nothing--or very little--to deflect them from it.

In an interview, Robert Penn Warren said something like this: A writer must work every day, realizing that most days will be bad ones; he must sit at his typewriter or under a tree with his pencil and paper, and take the awful responsibility of wasting time.

And I'm sure Mr. Warren didn't really mean that writing unsuccessful pages was a waste of time. Because whether the particular pages of a particular day are good or not, there is still you, all of you, bringing to that work and that day everything you have. And when you're doing that, you're a writer.

Andre Dubus, a distinguished writer of short stories, won the PEN/Malamud Award for short fiction and received fellowships from the Guggenheim and MacArthur foundations. In addition to his short fiction, he wrote a novel, The Lieutenant, and a collection of personal essays, Meditations From a Movable Chair. Film adaptations of his stories include In the Bedroom and We Don't Live Here Anymore. He died in 1999.

--from The Writer archives

Friday's Book Club Recommendation: BOUND SOUTH by Susan Rebecca White

2010-09-03T19:57:00.008-04:00

A huge thanks to my friend, Jessica, for recommending this novel by Susan Rebecca White. If you're a member of a book club, you'll want to recommend this one for discussions regarding themes of class, race, and gender.

From Publishers Weekly:
White's wonderful debut charts the clash of Southern tradition with present-day issues from the perspective of three white females over the years of 1998–2008: Louise Parker, a frustrated, pampered matron living in an affluent Atlanta neighborhood; Caroline, her rebellious teenage daughter; and Missy Meadows, the young daughter of Louise's impoverished housekeeper, Faye. While Missy yearns to reconnect with her father who abandoned the family to become a preacher and Christian TV soap star, Caroline embarks on a scandalous affair during her senior year with Frederick Staunton, her high school drama teacher, and they run off to San Francisco. The relationship fizzles, but Caroline chooses not to come home; back in Georgia, Missy and Charles, Louise's gay son, make a fateful journey to Durham, N.C., to surprise Missy's father. White's wit and graceful prose yield sharp insights about family, friendship and faith in the ever-changing South.

Our life on a Florida island

2010-08-29T21:49:00.006-04:00

This is our home when we're not spending summers in North Carolina. The only access to the island is by drawbridge, which occasionally gets stuck.

Fellow residents have named the bridge, The Bridge of Sighs. On the drive over from the mainland, you can't help but sigh.... Dolphin sightings are a frequent bonus!

Farewell to the Summer of 2010

2010-08-28T12:37:00.015-04:00

We said our goodbyes this morning during a family brunch at my mother's. The car is packed; the refrigerator cleaned out; the water turned off. Our family will act as caretakers. But before we hand over the keys, I thought the Summer of 2010 deserved one final look.

A message (and plea) from the youth of America

2010-08-27T20:38:00.002-04:00

I was so moved by this young man.

Friday's Book Club Recommendation: CRAFTING THE PERSONAL ESSAY by Dinty W. Moore

2010-08-26T13:15:00.006-04:00

Okay, Gang, it's finally here! This is my next book purchase, and it couldn't come at a better time, as I work on the final revisions to EYES RIGHT.

I've been moving and grooving in this circle of creative nonfiction writers for nearly a decade, and I can tell you that Dinty W. Moore is one of the most respected teachers of the genre.

If you have a story to tell, keep Dinty's book within reach.

Here's the PRODUCT DESCRIPTION via AMAZON: Award winning essayist Scott Russell Sanders once compared the art of essay writing to “the pursuit of mental rabbits”—a rambling through thickets of thought in search of some brief glimmer of fuzzy truth. While some people persist in the belief that essays are stuffy and antiquated, the truth is that the personal essay is an ever-changing creative medium that provides an ideal vehicle for satisfying the human urge to document truths as we experience them and share them with others—to capture a bit of life on paper.

Crafting the Personal Essay is designed to help you explore the flexibility and power of the personal essay in your own writing. This hands-on, creativity-expanding guide will help you infuse your nonfiction with honesty, personality, and energy. You’ll discover:

* An exploration of the basics of essay writing
* Ways to step back and scrutinize your experiences in order to separate out what may be fresh, powerful, surprising or fascinating to a reader
* How to move past private “journaling” and write for an audience
* How to write eight different types of essays including memoir, travel, humor, and nature essays among others
* Instruction for revision and strategies for getting published

Brimming with helpful examples, exercises, and sample essays, this indispensable guide will help your personal essays transcend the merely private to become powerfully universal.

Decisions, decisions: the author photo

2010-08-25T18:35:00.007-04:00

You might have noticed a change to my profile photo. Yes, this is me, too. As a blonde.

I thought I had this whole thing figured out by now. By now, I mean by the age of 51. For the past eight years -- actually since moving to Florida -- I have been a blonde. Truth is, I'm actually a brunette. A very dark brunette.

To friends who knew me during the first forty-two years of my life, I've had to warn before a reunion: "Remember, my hair is blond now." The response has always been, "No way. How is that possible?"

But after nearly a decade of bleaching, the wear-and-tear on my hair, not to mention my wallet, I finally returned to my roots not long ago, determined to live out the rest of my life in a more natural state. I was at peace with this decision. Or so I thought.

Everyone, unfortunately, had an opinion. From the obvious, "Why did you go back to dark hair?" to the more subtle, "So, you really were a brunette, after all?" The other half of my world actually cheered the return of the natural me.

So now, here I am with my first book forthcoming, and the need for an author photo. Apparently an author's photo matters more than you might think. Google this subject. You'll discover, as did I, just how much it matters -- so much so, I decided it was time to call in "the big guns."

My "big (hired) guns" is a professional stylist and make-up artist whose resume is chocked full with the names of famous stars. I sent her two photos. What do you think?

Her verdict? I can go either way, though she much prefers me with short blond hair (insert sigh).

Next week, it's back to the old me, or rather the newer me. The sunnier side of me. The blonde.

In the meantime, I've already changed my profile photo. Sorry if I shocked you.

It's me, I swear!

THE EYES OF HISTORY 2010: An Afternoon Exhibition and Lecture with Award-winning Photojournalist Chip Somodevilla

2010-08-24T12:26:00.004-04:00

The Poynter Institute is sponsoring this can't-miss event if you're in the Tampa Bay area Sept. 18.

http://mail.aol.com/32447-111/aol-1/en-us/mail/get-attachment.aspx?uid=1.29778704&folder=OldMail&partId=4&saveAs=EOH_ad081910v2.pdf

Publishing internships available at Milkweed

2010-08-22T09:10:00.004-04:00

For my younger blog readers, aka students, who are eager for an opportunity to break into the publishing business...here's one to definitely check out!

http://www.milkweed.org/content/view/148/29/

Friday's Book Club Recommendation

2010-08-20T21:16:00.005-04:00

I haven't read a ghost story since I was a teenager, and after several spine-tingling evenings during which I had to double-check all the doors, the alarm, and call up both dogs on the bed because of this novel by Sarah Waters, I remember why.

This is one of those books that will remain unforgettable.

From Publishers Weekly:

Waters (The Night Watch) reflects on the collapse of the British class system after WWII in a stunning haunted house tale whose ghosts are as horrifying as any in Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House. Doctor Faraday, a lonely bachelor, first visited Hundreds Hall, where his mother once worked as a parlor maid, at age 10 in 1919. When Faraday returns 30 years later to treat a servant, he becomes obsessed with Hundreds's elegant owner, Mrs. Ayres; her 24-year-old son, Roderick, an RAF airman wounded during the war who now oversees the family farm; and her slightly older daughter, Caroline, considered a natural spinster by the locals, for whom the doctor develops a particular fondness. Supernatural trouble kicks in after Caroline's mild-mannered black Lab, Gyp, attacks a visiting child. A damaging fire, a suicide and worse follow. Faraday, one of literature's more unreliable narrators, carries the reader swiftly along to the devastating conclusion.

My daughter, "Made in Japan"

2010-08-19T21:38:00.006-04:00

Within the next forty-eight hours, my daughter -- in fact, my only child -- will turn thirty. How is this possible?

Was it really thirty years ago that I was in Okinawa, Japan, just twenty-one, a Marine sergeant, and worried sick about the impending typhoon and how my husband would drive me from the northern end of the island to the hospital in time, not to mention safely, if I were to go into labor? Which, of course, I did.

Turns out, the atmospheric conditions surrounding typhoons are also great labor inducers. Who knew?

I love the irony that my daughter and her boyfriend will be spending her thirtieth birthday on an island in the Caribbean -- in the middle of hurricane season....

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!

Coyote ugly

2010-08-18T05:34:00.004-04:00

The other day, our neighbor's dairy cows were strolling through our front yard. Today, it's a coyote. Yikes!

Great expectations, and their letdowns

2010-08-17T08:38:00.013-04:00

I was recently dining with my mother and one of her friends, who, like my mother, is an artist, when the discussion moved to our favorite writers and recently read books. My mother's friend voiced disappointment at the limited bio information provided on one of her favorite authors. "It only mentioned where she lived, nothing about whether she had dogs, or anything else."

I can't say this comment completely took me by surprise. I, too, am interested in the authors with whom I'm about to devote my energies and psyche. I, too, eagerly flip toward the back for a glimpse of the writer -- both photo and bio.

But why? What sort of kinship is it I'm seeking? Making matters worse, I'm flipping toward the back with a little trepidation, for I'm wanting the same thing as anyone else, I suppose -- for the artist's photo and bio to measure up to some sort of expectation that's been established through all the blurbs and reviews and the writer's captivating voice on page one.

For example, I recently stumbled across the work of a woman from Boulder, Colorado. Her bio revealed that she's an adjunct professor and has a number of animals. Her photo, taken outside against a typical Colorado backdrop, reveals her without the polish of make-up. Her long hair, loose and wavy, is pulled back, and looks as if she's just been photographed after dismounting one of her horses. Yes, I sigh and smile -- all quite fitting.

Apparently, we tend to produce a mental picture of someone we've never met based on the flimsiest of information. Maybe we need to do this to feel there's a sense of rightful order in our otherwise chaotic, personal universes. But what happens when we're proven wrong?

Another example: I had a mental picture of a writer-friend's literary agent, based on nothing I can recall now other than the woman's nurturing manner, as somewhat grandmotherly with hair like steel wool. Imagine my surprise when my friend described her agent as a towering, stunning dark-haired beauty who captivates every room she enters. My universe actually quivered for a moment, and then expanded to accommodate.

But back to my original question, why writers and not artists? Of course, I'm not referring to the works of art in museums. Of course, we know more than brief bio information about Rodin, Monet, Renoir, and others, just as we know more about the writers considered the master storytellers of their generations. I'm referring to the emerging writers and artists. From emerging artists, I've bought a hundred or more various works of art to decorate a dozen or more various homes throughout my lifetime, and with the exception of one or two -- namely my mother -- I haven't known anything about them, nor, frankly, cared. The color pattern suited the needs of said room; the play of light awakened my senses; the framing appealed (sorry, Mom!), but that's why the purchase was made.

Maybe I'm all wrong about this. Maybe others who buy paintings or other works of art wind up researching their artists out of curiosity and out of a desire to buy more.

But not one work of art I've ever purchased included an artist bio on the back. Some of these paintings have long ago been donated, alongside boxes of discarded books, and others have been traded with friends or sold in garage sales; others, those hardest with which to part, are actually in storage should we ever build on to our North Carolina home. But the same treatment can be said for a great number of books I've owned in my lifetime.

So, what is it we find so intriguing about writers that we should feel entitled to something more personal than where they currently live?

Of course, all this is running through my mind as I work through the revisions on my forthcoming memoir for my editor. Soon, she'll ask for the page of acknowledgment, an author's photo (Yikes! That's another blog post in the future, I'm sure!), and the author's bio, which I promise will reveal I have two dogs, Cash and Molly. ;)

Got milk?

2010-08-14T09:30:00.001-04:00

This is what happens when a few cows decide that the greener pastures are yours. Yikes!

These curious cows from the dairy farm behind us trampled over loose fencing to check us out.

Friday's Book Club Recommendation

2010-08-13T08:00:00.001-04:00

I'm leaving town for a few days, and this is the book I'm taking with me. I'm on story eight of thirteen, and each is an unforgettable gem.

This description from AMAZON:
Whether it's a young co-ed who has lived her life succumbing to passion and authority, a woman struggling with the intense demands of motherhood, or a newlywed whose new mirror-filled home proves too much for her fragile psyche, these thirteen stories-edgy and alluring-inexorably peel back the layers of the women they portray. By turns lyrical and haunting, plainspoken and frank, award-winning writer Mary Akers' finely crafted debut collection WOMEN UP ON BLOCKS explores the price women pay when they allow the roles of wife, mother, daughter, or lover to define them.

Find WOMEN UP ON BLOCKS here: http://www.amazon.com/Women-Up-Blocks-Mary-Akers/dp/0981628060