Happy Thanksgiving

Our Thanksgiving always includes going to my moms. She makes the turkey, my dad makes the stuffing and the rest of us fill everything else in. It's always carbtastic.

We start by a few of us playing cribbage while watching football and rooting for anyone but the Steelers and Cowboys (sorry PIT and DAL fans). We fill our bellies with cheeses my brother has brought from Pike Place Market while waiting for dinner.

The plan is always to eat by 4, but that never seems to happen. It's usually more like 5 by the time everything is ready and put in it's place on the counter to be served up.

We stuff our faces until our bellies are about to burst (my goal is actually to NOT do that this year). Sometimes a couple of us will go for a walk after dinner while others chat. I usually help with the clean up so Mom doesn't have to lift a finger.

We used to play games, but my family is big and Italian and loud and loves to kibitz and it always took 4 hours to play a 1 hour game, so that tradition has kind of gone down the toilet. Now we talk about work and politics and movies and books and music and whatever the hell we feel like, because we like a good debate.

Then we eat pie. I can never believe people have room for pie after all that.

I usually head to the ocean the next day with my friend Heidi, but this year we'll be heading to see Pearl Jam in Portland, then to the ocean on Saturday.

What are your Thanksgiving traditions?

Also a reminder, Dissected will be free on Amazon for your Kindle tomorrow only. Enjoy the Black Friday deal. If you read it, getting a review would be awesome. Reviews truly do help little tiny authors like myself. :)

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. Enjoy the day, no matter what you do.

Writing Wednesday: Finding Nirvana

For today's Writing Wednesday, I've decided to pull out a novel I started that will more than likely never see the light of day.  And PLEASE don't compare it to Mama Mia, I've already been told the plot is similar, though I've never seen the movie myself.  Without further ado, the opening paragraphs of Finding Nirvana.

      My name is Lanie and I’m a grunge addict.  Yes I’m well aware that it’s 2010, and grunge was so 1990’s, but it wasn’t really a choice, it was a way of life.  At times I felt like I was born a decade too late.  I would have totally fit in with the Seattle grunge scene, but that was my mom’s life, not mine.  So deep into that scene, she chose to name me Layne Veddar Cobain Cornell Miller.  Ridiculous I know, but she couldn’t make up her mind between her favorite singers from Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and Soundgarden, respectively.  I decided when I started school that I would go by Lanie.  It sounded more, well, like a girl.

       When it comes to my dad, things get a bit more complicated.  You see, I don’t really know who he is, well, I kind of do.  He could be one of three guys, the first being Kenny James.  He’s a totally smart way cool dude who manages a couple local bands, the most “famous” if you can call it that being Toke.  The second might be BJ Dubois, the drummer for Drop Dead Lead, and no I don’t know if that’s his real name, or if he took the initials just to be funny or clever, which he’s neither though he thinks he is.  He’s a bit socially retarded, but he’s nice, and not bad to look at.  The last contestant on “Who’s My Dad” is Doug “Spaz” Harris, singer of The Deceased.  If you knew Doug, you’d know exactly why they called him Spaz.  First of all, he’s got Tourettes, so he tenses up and blurts out the most insane funniest shit at times, also, when he’s on stage, he dances like he’s having a seizure.

     These three are pretty much interchangeable to me, all white, all in their late thirties, all still living life as if they’re rock stars.  I can’t blame them really, I’ve got the bug myself and it’s hard to shake, plus I’ve never heard of a twelve step program for this kind of addiction.  When you look at those guys, there’s not one distinct feature you could point out and say, “oh, he’s GOT to be Lanie’s dad.”  I mean, my eyes are blue like Kenny’s, I have full lips, like BJ, and I’m tall and thin like Spaz.  And I guess seventeen years ago my mother loved them all.  So there you go.

F³A: Research

How much research do you do when writing?  Do you love it, or hate it?  Is it intensive or superficial.

I've done tons of research, but I can't stand it because it's usually when I'm in the middle of writing time, and I stop and go Crap, I need to know how to, or what is, or where is, etc.

I've looked up some weird stuff.  Death penalties, lethal injection, cutting, constellations, cancer, medieval villages and stature, suicide, the amount of tithes a large evangelical church receives and where the money goes, bloods and crips, aids, the list goes on and on.

While it's interesting, I almost wish I had a method to my madness so it didn't always take me away from my writing, you know, like having one of those . . . what are they called . . . outlines. ;)

I've never been an outline person. I just write.  If I do ever get stuck I write down point A and point B and make notes about what I want to happen in between.  Crazy I know, but then again, I'm a little crazy.

Tell me what kind of research you've done for your writing.  Was it interesting? A drag?

Happy Friday everyone, here are my nibbles.

Random iPod shuffle song: Just Breathe by Pearl Jam

Book of the Week:  Illegal by Bettina Restrepo.  I just got it from Amazon and can't wait to read it.

Movie of the Week: Rain Man my mom gave it to me because she thought the girls would like it.  I think she's probably right.

Quote of the Week: "Research is what I'm doing when I don't know what I'm doing." ~ Werner von Braun 

Have a great Easter/Passover/whateveryoucelebrateordon't

F³A: Friday Already?!?!?

The title of this blog drips with sarcasm.  This week has seemed long.  Just getting back in to the swing of things after a week long illness and five day vacation.  It's been difficult.  I've had nightmares rivaling something from Elm Street, keeping me awake at night.  This of course has caused a week's worth of grumpity tiredness.  

Neighborhood cats are stalking me.

Birthday parties.

Did I mention work?

I can think of nothing but writing, feeling hot on my WIP Sad.  However, there are not enough hours in my  my day sometimes to squeeze it in between work, kids, grocery shopping, exercise (yes I have been, but had to take a couple days off because my butt and thighs staged a rebellion), cooking, driving, cleaning (okay, maybe not cleaning, please no surprise visits this weekend).  I have done some writing, I'm up to 4K on the novel.  Not much, but more than before.

Maybe this weekend between birthday parties and football I can get a good chunk of words out.  That's my goal at least.  I think I'll go for 3K.

I can't write anymore.  I keep getting distracted by the clock and Facebook and email.  Plus, I have to be at work soon and have yet to brush my teeth and put shoes on. (have I mentioned how much I hate wearing shoes?  And coats.  I hate coats and it's really effing cold here)

Book of the week: Tell Me a Secret by Holly Cupala.  Just started it yesterday.  Very good. And she's local and a Diva Girl (which one day I long to be)

Random song that pops up on my iPod:  Just Breathe by Pearl Jam.  Very apropos for me today.

Movie of the Week:  Inception.  Trippy cool.

Quote of the week: "I was so scared to give up depression, fearing that somehow the worst part of me was actually all of me. "
— Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation (this quote reminds me of an email I just sent this morning)

Have a great weekend my friends.

Peace out.

~Megan

(look I learned how to make a new monkey)

_________m___m__________

                  o(o o)o

                    ( ~ )

The four songs that define the last four decades for me.

# 2 1990's

I was pretty much just becoming an adult. Coming off some hard times, which if you read my past blogs you know all about. I went through a few styles in that decade as I grew more mature, finished school, got married, had kids.

Mostly I wore jeans and t-shirts, mini skirts and sweaters.

I was watching Twin Peaks, Northern Exposure, and Ally McBeal.

I was still reading Stephen King, throw in Wally Lamb, Margaret Atwood, and Louise Erdrich.

My favorite movies were Pulp Fiction, Fight Club, Shawshank Redemption, Fargo, and Silence of the Lambs.

And Grunge was king, especially if you were from the Pacific Northwest. Ratty jeans, t-shirts, flannel shirts, and birkenstocks were daily attire. Bands like Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, Alice and Chains, Soundgarden, Nirvana, and Screaming Trees were rocking stages all over Seattle. And of course Pearl Jam, who wrote the song that defined the 90's for me, Alive.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbhsYC4gKy4

This song is about a boy getting horrific news, then living through horrific events, but still being able to say I'm Alive. This song is important, and I think so many people could relate to the lyrics, and the music, and still can. I know the song meant a lot to me, as did the entire grunge music scene.

In 1999 I was 30 years old.

Thanks for reading
Kisses :*
Megan

Alive"

Son, she said, have I got a little story for you
What you thought was your daddy was nothin' but a...
While you were sittin' home alone at age thirteen
Your real daddy was dyin', sorry you didn't see him, but I'm glad we talked...
Oh I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey, I, I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey...oh...
Oh, she walks slowly, across a young man's room
She said I'm ready...for you
I can't remember anything to this very day
'Cept the look, the look...
Oh, you know where, now I can't see, I just stare...
I, I'm still alive
Hey I, but, I'm still alive
Hey I, boy, I'm still alive
Hey I, I, I, I'm still alive, yeah
Ooh yeah...yeah yeah yeah...oh...oh...
Is something wrong, she said
Well of course there is
You're still alive, she said
Oh, and do I deserve to be
Is that the question
And if so...if so...who answers...who answers...
I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey I, but, I'm still alive
Yeah I, ooh, I'm still alive
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah