Nocturnal Writing or Anything

My alter-ego, who’s albatross is talking me off apparent nocturnal ledges, perennially thinks we will remember our conversations in the morning.

Last night, an idea sprung into my should-be slumbering head. 

“It’ll be perfect to write about today!” 

I began crafting the opening paragraph, outlining the rest until…

“Enough already you!”

Promising we’d remember a few hours hence is not a worthy wager, but speculation is what you bargain with where sleep is concerned.

Nighttime’s artistry and sunrise words merge. 

Damn if I can only remember it'd something to do with Thanksgiving dinner.

And the Pulitzer slips away…

*********************************

The word was "Dinner" over at 100-word Challenge hosted by Tara at Thin Spiral Notebook. 

(And this is what I am doing instead of getting ready for a feast for 20. Priorities!)

WWW.Wednesday: Turkey Week Book Selections

John Warner writes a column called "The Biblioracle" for the Printer’s Row Journal (the book arm of the Chicago Tribune). In it he reviews books or discusses the merits of different genres but it’s invariably all about books.

Last Sunday, he described his feelings about the short story. After reading a great number of such these last two weeks (by Alice Munro), short story collections may now be a new favorite type. I’m including an excerpt from that article here:

“The very best ones have a kind of diamond hardness, a compression down to only the most essential elements. The sensation of reading a great short story is like having the author remove part of your skull, reach in and scoop out some essential part of your brain you didn't previously know existed, and then display it in front of you.

Reading that over, I realize I've made it sound gross, but I mean to convey how a short story can simultaneously dislocate and reorient the reader. As we are immersed in the narrative, we are quickly and thoroughly dislocated from our own consciousness (a blessing in my case) until the narrative ends and we return to our senses, with a fresh understanding of the world we inhabit. I even occasionally find myself holding my breath as I read, as though I need to suspend all activity while I exist in this other world.”

This is how I feel, too.

What have I recently finished?

I loved every single minute spent with each and every story in this book. If you have not read anything by her, please do. She writes about women of all ages and circumstances, and everyone involved in their lives. Her writing is simply stunning.

What are you reading now?

Because I am currently obsessed with Munro and will read many more (or every) collection written by this author. More than halfway through and I believe I love it even more than the previous one, which is saying a lot.

A few weeks ago I mentioned I was in the mood to read some more spicy material. So I downloaded: 

Wikipedia notes "it was published posthumously in 1977- though largely written in the 1940s as erotica for a private collector." Hmm…

Having read only a few stories, I will reserve judgment on the spice quotient until next week.

What will you read next?

I really have no idea how I’ll feel after Thanksgiving and the kids go back to school. Maybe:

Thanks to Should Be Reading for making this happen!

As My Eyelids Begin to Flutter, I Remember NaBloPoMo

I just want to lie on the couch. Really, I do. But I won’t let this day get completely away without writing something even though I blew NaBloPoMo two weeks ago. This will be my third week out of four getting it “right” and being consistent. I’d like to win a (random) prize this week over at Yeah Write. We are down to mere days now.

About lying on the couch, we (kids and me) were alternating between a battle of crepes on “Throw Down With Bobby Flay” and polar bears, walruses and seals on “Animal Planet”. I’m not one to nap but my eyelids were fluttering, for sure, when I remembered. 

So no one thinks I’m shirking my Thanksgiving Day responsibilities (This is my 25^th year hosting it and I have it down!), I’ve been to the market, picked up Tom, and popped my head into the florist to grab flowers. Cleaned a little. That’s pretty much it because I had kids so they could help me with such things (kidding!).

Tomorrow is the first “day before” Thanksgiving that my husband has taken off of work. Ever. Doesn’t he realize he’ll be put to work here too? I’m banking on many hands making light work tomorrow. He's taking off Friday, too. As a matter of fact, he's never taken the day after Thanksgiving off either. Ever. Should be an interesting five days!

So my feet are going to prop back up and I’ll grab a blankie. I’m currently halfway through a fabulous book of short stories by Alice Munro (my second in two weeks).

bookshelfporn.com

Wouldn't this be a HOT room to have in a house? It's like a dream to me.

marriedwithchildren.com

In reality, I probably look more like Peggy Bundy... And I don't expect this to change much for the next few hours.

Tomorrow, I hope to write about books but if I run out of time I'll re-post a Trifecta piece I wrote last year on tomorrow's exact day. It was a cathartic release for me. Now that I think about it, I'm going to re-post it for sure and my goal is to write about the books I've been reading.

Oh, and I hate the pitch blackness of 4:45pm!!!!!

Thanksgiving Day: Somewhere Over the Rainbow

"We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures." 
Thornton Wilder

"Thankful for the seen and the unseen, 
the believable and the unbelievable." 
(Courtesy of a Facebook friend)

Every Thanksgiving morning, I get up and go to the gym. I actually workout but mainly I go to escape the in-laws for an hour. I just got back with coffee in hand to start the ritual.

And at about the same time every year (10:00am) for the last 24, I wrestle with Tom. When I picked him up yesterday, the man at the market asked if we were having ostrich for Thanksgiving. Tom is a rather large Dude.

I’ll wash him, dry, stuff and sew him up. Let’s just say, Tom is nicely taken care of in my home.

Then it’s time to kick back in sweats, watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and leisurely baste Tom. Set the table, sure thing.

This afternoon when everything is done and dusted, all the important people in my life will be relaxing in my home. There’s a movie and a few card games in our immediate future. And of course, a feast.

The sun is shining in Chicago and the temperature is mild, at least for today!

I’m smiling as I type.

Life is Good; don’t you think?

Have a Blessed day.

Remember the Time...

Sunday is here and I’m ready for it! Stream of conscious writing happens every Sunday at Jana's Place and I’m happy for that particularly these NaBloPoMo days.

Five minutes to write about what I want without any concern for how it looks or if every word is spelled correctly (but my program corrects without asking me) and left alone after that. So here is my pre-Thanksgiving SOC.

(Courtesy of Butterball.com)

I have had Thanksgiving at my home for 23 of the past 24 years. The only time I didn’t have it was when I brought a newborn home the day before and that was 22 years ago tomorrow. Where does it go that elusive thing called time?

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Hands down.

There are no presents (not a present person). It’s all about sharing a beautiful day with the people to whom you are most close. Simple. And even if you can’t be with everyone you love each and every year, you think about them and give thanks for those sharing your day. We are lucky.

And the best part to me, surprisingly is not the food which is devoured in mere minutes, is the lingering. We spend the day talking. There are so many “Remember the time…”s.

And the best part of all the remembering is that each person recalls the story just a little differently and even if the same story was told last year “Grandma, remember when mom…” “Mom, remember the time..” Dad or Grandpa or…The tale comes out slightly different every year. How can that be? It just does. 

Then there’s my brother, forget about it. He remembers nothing.

That’s what I love about shared story telling and remember whens. Everyone has their own recollection, their own view, and their own side to add. Making up the "complete" story.

The fact that my parents are getting up there and my FIL is sick makes this year’s gathering and storytelling all that more important.