Tartitude

Art. Attitude. Vitamin C.

I’ve Been Gone but I Have a Doctor’s Note

Was it only last month I did a post on Writer Unboxed about lessons precipitated in a car accident? I aspire to be the kind of person who can learn from anything, but I don’t want to excel at the Zen attitude, you know? *shakes fist at the universe*

In other words, I’ve been AWOL for a loved-one’s health crisis. But that person is making a speedy recovery, so now it’s time to look at the week’s take-away lessons.

1. That I no more enjoy sleeping in ICU-affiliated lounges now than I did a decade ago.

2. That some hospital staff are condescending and rude and label family members as “anxious” — code for “troublesome” — until they learn there’s a doctor in the crowd. Then they bend over backwards, become nervous and self-conscious.

3. That this saddens and frustrates me, but not enough to refrain from using it to protect a loved one.

4. That the phenomenon of nutritional illiteracy is not confined to the pizza-for-a-vegetable movement in the States, because a person can still be hooked up to a heart monitor in a $10,000 dollar a night bed, but be offered $0.75 worth of cheese and trans-fat laden peanut butter — the foods that put them there in the first place.

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Writer Unboxed Redirect: What happens when Jan tries to be helpful

I’m trying to come up with a word for my post on Writer Unboxed today and I think I’m going to go with a description more akin to wine-tasting than writing: “schizophrenic with undernotes of cheeky.” Really wondering how it’s going to go over…

Anyway, if you have time, please join me for Promopalooza: Tie-Ins, Swag, and Merchandising Opps for the Streetwise Writer

I will be back with a Tartitude post later this week.

What have I been doing while this blog sprouted weeds and crickets chirped? I’ve been getting the kids settled back at school and launched a self-improvement kick. If the fact I now own a tickler file doesn’t just thrill you the way it thrills me, well then you’re some kind of twisted person, aren’t you?

Tell Me a Tale of Two Dreamers

I seldom recall my dreams and by how seldom he speaks of them, I’d guess the ToolMaster is the same. But cue the Twilight Zone signature riff, because Tuesday night demonstrated why we are soul mates.

His Dream:

While studying scientific papers on the structure of nuclear reactors, he noticed a recurrent error. If Radium 135 was processed with Nitrogen, he posited, it could produce an unlimited supply of energy. The waste products would so safe you could eat them without fear of developing a third testicle or a hairy spleen.

Because he couldn’t get anyone to believe him, he visited Saskatchewan and bought 100 pounds of raw Uranium from a miner. The excuse he used? He wanted a souvenir.

He built a miniature reactor in our basement. (Apparently I was biddable, ignorant, or on drugs in this portion of the dream.)

It worked. He patented the process.

He approached the head of his company with a deal. He’d get 10% of all profits but they’d have the exclusive right to develop it. When they tried to argue they owned all his inventions, did he hire an intellectual property lawyer? Oh no, he did not. He argued his case with skill and merit, then–

This is where I interrupted. I said that if I wrote his dream, he would be conveniently disappeared under the Canadian laws which are equivalent to the Patriot Act, though because we are Canadian, you’ll understand the detention isn’t carried out in a tent city in Cuba, but rather a regular prison in the East. (Sorry. I can provide no insight into the cultural differences with respect to water-boarding except to suppose we might use a maple plank whereas you might use ash.)

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2011 in a Nutshell: Fire, Ready, Aim

Seth Godin did a post a while back on goals. It speaks to the sweet spot between effort and aim. Because it’s brief and encapsulates my philosophy, I’ll quote it in its entirety.

Low expectations are often a self-fulfilling prophecy. We insulate ourselves from failure, don’t try as hard, brace for the worst and often get it.

High expectations, on the other hand, will inevitably lead to disappointment. Keep raising what you expect and sooner or later (probably sooner) it’s not going to happen. And we know that a good outcome that’s less than the great one we hoped for actually feels like failure.

Perhaps it’s worth considering no expectations. Intense effort followed by an acceptance of what you get in return. It doesn’t make good TV, but it’s a discipline that can turn you into a professional.

If I were to focus on my fiction word count this year — and trust me, there are weeks where this can feel like the only measure that matters to me — I’ve failed dismally. But because I’m trying to follow my nose and allow myself time to discover my purpose and voice, it’s been a fun year, peeps. I’m so grateful for what I’ve learned. I’m also a little boggled at what I did accomplish without a left-brained plan. Here are a few of the things I tracked:

Blogging:

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Road-Worthy Fudge

I goofed and should have put this up when I did my Writer Unboxed post, but here’s the fudge recipe referenced therein. The marshmallows guarantee it will set but also prevent it from being strictly vegetarian, if that matters to you. All the other ingredients can be adapted to vegan alternatives. I’ve used soy milk and Earth Balance margarine, for example.

5-Minute Fudge

2 Tbsp. butter (or margarine)

2/3 c. evaporated milk (can use plain, though it’s less creamy)

1-2/3 c. sugar

1/2 tsp. salt

2 c. miniature marshmallows

1-1/2 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips

1 tsp. vanilla

Directions:

  1. Mix butter, milk, sugar and salt in a saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil. Cook 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat.
  2. Stir in marshmallows, chocolate chips, vanilla and optional substances.
  3. Stir until marshmallows melt. Pour into buttered 8″-square pan. Cool.

Variations: 

Peppermint: in lieu of vanilla, add peppermint extract. I like to switch the chocolate chips to white, then top with crushed candy canes at Christmas.

Dark chocolate cherry: use dark chocolate chips, add about 1/2 tsp. orange extract (optional) when you add the vanilla, add 1/2 c. chopped, dried cherries.

Dark chocolate ginger: use dark chocolate chips, vanilla extract, and 1/2. cup diced candied ginger

Two Tiny Triumphs and a Writer Unboxed Redirect

So let’s see… Since we’ve chatted I’ve had my new temporary crown put in, and while I didn’t precisely tap dance out of the dentist’s office, I recovered quickly. Further, the temporary fits so well I only know something’s afoot — or atooth — because of its rubbery texture. In other words, dental phobia? I pwnd you this time.

My triumph was slightly tarnished when, within one hour of my appointment, I developed a minor cold. Stress does it to me every time. Anyway, I went to buy Kleenex with lotion because, as Molly puts it so delicately, “The time to be cheap isn’t when you’re sick, Mom.”

But I one-upped her because I found these and they made me ridiculously happy:

I know Vicks Vaporub can be dangerous (or was) if consumed in significant quantities, but as my sister mostly recovered from that unfortunate episode when I was babysitting her, it has good associations for me.  As a kid, that menthol scent signaled upcoming parental indulgence: entire days spent reading or watching TV. No homework. No chores, not that I ever had it too bad.

With my Puffs I blow and hack, but I surreptitiously sniff my tissues and bestow a beatific smile on anyone who notices. Frank thinks I’ve finally lost my marbles, which pleases me. A teenager should always wonder if danger and chaos are but moments away. Don’t you agree?

Finally, today I’m at Writer Unboxed with a family story of near-tragedy and woe. I Prefer My Rubber to Meet the Road. Hope you can join me there.

Christi Craig: Brave Host or Outrageous Risk-Taker?

Peeps, I’m doing my first non-Unboxed blog post today, and it’s at the writing home of a total sweetie, Christi Craig. I think I met Christi through WU, but in any case, we’ve since discovered a few mutual friends, including Man Writing a Romance’s Dave Thome.

Today’s subject: How Introvertus Interruptus Taught Me Four Simple Writing Lessons

Hope you can join us.

 

If I Opened Wider I’d Have No Face

Have you seen those cartoons where a character advances their foot into a room, then there’s a brief pause before their body follows with a screeching sound like tires stopping on wet pavement? As I was lying in the dentist chair last Thursday, I realized that had been me for the past month, with my body preceding my mind by about five minutes. The reason, my dear Zesties, was a routine dental checkup and the news I needed a crown.

A First World problem, right? Because for most people, because beyond the financial issues, that’s not big news or a permanent threat.

But I’m a tooth-challenged wimp, I admit it. I earned my dental-phobia in childhood with a family dentist who was beefy, old, unkind, and I suspect wasn’t particularly competent, even for the time. (For instance, though my parents assure me it wasn’t real, I recall him entering the room wearing a blood-stained smock.)

Anyway, last Thursday when I thought I was done with oral professionals for six months, I left their office in a positively giddy mood. I had coffee with a fellow writer. My mouth felt normal, which is to say I’d stopped noticing its existence with every bite and swallow. Within a day, I was getting on top of the chores I’d let slide and my writing goals seemed achievable again.

Then I had the unmitigated gall to bite into a piece of toast on Saturday morning — whole wheat, peanut-buttered — and *crunch-grind-grit-wince*

Who knew that a chunk of porcelain would be so vulnerable?

Back I must go, peeps, and I’m not particularly happy about it. This is where you come in. I know I’m not alone in my childhood or dental fear, or of overcoming it as an adult. If you’re so inclined, please soothe me with your stories of how you endured a bazillion root canals thanks to the miracle of modern dentistry. Tell me how you conquered the dental chair. I am ready to become a believer.

And since it’s been so long since we chatted, what’s new with you lately? Are you getting ready for the holidays? Maybe a good thing about this dental stuff is that for the first time in years, I’m actually feeling Christmas-y.

Writer Unboxed Redirect: What Do Gynecology and Writing Have in Common?

Whelp, I’m alive. I won’t lie; last week was rough with dental problems in three O’Hara family members and other things a-happening. Fortunately, this week promises to be more typical.

Let me begin it by thanking Victoria Mixon, who made a wonderful first guest blogger.

Likewise, thank you to Jane Friedman who kindly laid to rest a long-term concern of mine. For the past year I’ve worried about using O’Hara as my writing name due to the apostrophe, which codes differently according to the platforms I’m using. My questions meant I had to hold off certain decisions, like claiming my personalized Facebook profile. Happily, in Jane’s post, and then a reference by one of her commenters, Caleb J. Ross, I was reassured and given strategies.

Lastly, I hope you’ll join me today on Writer Unboxed for my monthly post, entitled 14 Subtle Signs Your OBGYN Might Not Make a Good Critique Partner

Guest Post: Victoria Mixon on Fueling Plot Momentum

Peeps, this post is a landmark for me, and I’m so excited. I’ve had guests here in the guise of interview victims before, but never entirely turned over the Tartitude reins. I can think of few more qualified to handle them than Victoria Mixon.

You might know Victoria from elsewhere. She’s a frequent contributor  to Writer Unboxed, a writer, and an independent editor with over thirty years’ experience.  Today’s post is an excerpt from The Art & Craft of Story: 2nd Practitioner’s Manual, a companion to the successful The Art & Craft of Fiction: A Practitioner’s Manual. It was specifically chosen to help the plot- or pacing-challenged in the crowd, which at this point probably includes anyone doing NaNoWriMo. Enjoy!

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Using Character to Fuel Momentum

Every day, in every way, I am always telling aspiring writers, “Whatever you do, never interfere with the forward motion of your plot.” Life is short, and stories are legion. We haven’t got that kind of time.

But even better than simply not interfering, we need to know how to increase that forward motion.

Momentum: from snowball to avalanche.

We’ve been talking about how to use character to create plot, how our protagonist’s two conflicting needs create the nightmare collision that is their inevitable Climax. But, while we’re exploring this plot, how do we go beyond the admonishment not to interfere with our plot’s momentum and actually increase the momentum, exaggerate, fuel it? Through character?

By taking every opportunity to conflict those two needs. And, at carefully timed intervals, increase them.

This technique is rooted in the character’s freedom of choice. Because every time we set up a decision for them—A or B—whatever they choose leads to C, which we must arrange to be even worse than whatever they didn’t choose.

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