MONDAY'S MUSINGS---THE THING ABOUT CANCER

The thing about having cancer is its tiring.

Oh, I don’t mean treatments, perse, but everything that comes with it. I get tired of thinking about it; planning or delaying my life because of it. Then there are my own fears and worries that creep in at odd times and bite deep. I’ve always been independent and while I can delegate I hate losing my independence due to lack of strength. I dislike the worry about getting to and from appointments if I unable to drive, of being a burden, or looking at and arranging finances.

Then there is dealing with people.

There are those that care and always try to be encouraging, in spite of what’s going on in their life; those that still want to have real conversations or share laughter and I appreciate them. Seriously these people, and not just close friends and family, make life good. 

But, then... there are those that haven’t a clue what to say or how to react or interact with me. They treat me as if the cancer zombiefied my brain and its broken or not working. You know, that over bright tone of voice one uses with a toddler or someone who is at death’s door. I am neither. 

Or that I’m some drama queen looking for the spotlight. 

Seriously? Who the hell would choose something as dangerous as cancer, which can go either way, for attention? I’d rather being doing anything but facing this. Then there are who just want to avoid me as if this cancer thing is catching, like cooties or the ‘flu.

The funny thing is I do understand people and the whys and hows of how they think. I do try to be patient and understanding but it does get wearying to the soul and I’m not even half way through my treatments. There are times I have little or no patience because I’m trying to deal with what’s inside me right now. I don’t have the energy to deal with others’…problems or attitudes. I fight hard, at times, to hold on to my patience and not rip into someone or have to call my brothers to help dispose of a body. Not a good thing. I don’t like me when I get that way.

I guess what's most frustrating in none of this is a quick fix. By that I mean nothing is going to get me through the next 3 months of radiation and chemo easy or fast--- or the 9 months beyond that with the final chemical phase of treatment. Each treatment is a necessary evil but it isn't going to make me feel better. Considering my reaction to most chemicals and meds, I suspect I'm going to be feeling like crap. I won't kid you, it all gets to me. The anticipation of what's coming...the unknown. Yeah, it gets to me on many levels.

I've spent considerable time, the past few months, at a hospital that deal exclusively with all sorts of cancer patients. I'm a natural people watcher and the story that peoples' faces tell...it's an eye opener. Sometimes it lifts you up and other times it breaks your heart.

The sights I've seen and the stories I've heard from people fighting this war...my God. It tends to put things into perspective when I'm facing my own fears and worries. 

So, when things get...frustrating or I get a bit down, I give myself a swift kick mentally and say, "Suck it up Buttercup! There are people with this same disease that would LOVE to be standing where you are now."

No matter what's going on in my life, I CAN'T lose sight of the long term. If everything goes right I get to live.

And that's big. 

Really big.

MONDAYS MUSINGS—TAPPING OUR EMOTIONAL BANKS

Every time we define a character and set it on a page, we delve into our emotional banks.  When we withdraw emotions and life experiences from that bank and that never leaves us unaffected.  A good example of that is if we’ve just written a heavy emotional scene, we’re wiped. 

Anything we create as an artist, musician, or writer is pulled from our emotional banks.

An artist pulls the emotions from their own psyche and as they do they bring into play their sense of wonder about life, curiosity about how and why things work. This is why a good piece of music, object of art, and words can elicit a strong emotional response. To create that response in others an artist first has to reach inside. And to do that effectively, the creator is also brushed with those same emotions as they create.

Writing/journaling has been used as a tool for years to help client/patients to identify problems.  The thought being, when you write about a situation or event your emotions will spill over into what you’re writing and help see a problem more clearly. Or at least have a starting point to repair or modify what’s troubling you.

Many traumatic things are totally or partially forgotten and this is the mind’s defense mechanism. It protects. Even when forgotten the emotional impact hasn’t been removed, only hidden. Emotions are stored differently than memories and have a way of manifesting themselves, or spilling over, into our dreams and other areas of life. By writing down those emotions, we can, theoretically, recall missing parts and go about fixing it. 

I think when we write a story we also pull from a pool of forgotten emotions and half forgotten situations. All those emotional feelings—the joys, sadness, anger, fear, feeling helpless, and falling in love—are stored within our sub-conscious, or our emotional banks.

In my writing, I tend to hit both ends of the emotional spectrum. I like my characters to have layers. What has happened to them in their past is going to affect how they react now to life’s present situations. Of course parts of my own life experiences are used. I’m an introspective person by nature, and an observer. I have to take care in my writing not to overburden my readers with too much introspection/retrospection.  I have to allow them to draw their own conclusions based on their life experiences.  Sometimes I write it all out, then go back and remove all the whys (back-story and explanations) and dribble out just enough to give the reader a point of reference. I try to leave the actions and reactions of the characters to define the situation.

I don’t always succeed, and I’m always struggling with that, but it’s a work in progress. I feel great when I’ve drawn good characters true to life and they move from two dimensional idea to feeling like a real person.

What helps you create realistic emotions in your characters? 

MONDAY MUSINGS—WHERE THERE'S SMOKE...

**THERE WON'T BE AN IWSG POST TODAY, WEDNESDAY. SON HAD AN ACCIDENT AND I'LL BE AT THE HOSPITAL FOR MRI/XRAYS MOST OF THE DAY.**

The morning is sunny but cool and wisps of fog, like gossamer veils, hang from bare oak limbs weave in and around the pine branches. There’s a hint of wood smoke in the air. I sip my coffee to the thrum of wings flying over my head on the way to the bird feeders. Nearby the liquid warble of ok-a-REEEE tells me spring is here with the presence of Red winged Blackbird.

There is another interesting, but not so nice, tell of spring.

I’m in the kitchen making a cake for our desert later tonight when my husband comes in from outside.

“Did you see the smoke in the field across the road?”

I look up and out the kitchen window. I can’t see anything. “I haven’t seen any smoke. Are you sure it wasn’t Tule fog?”

“The winds blowing now and then but I’m sure it was smoke”

“Hmph. I was out earlier but I haven’t seen anything.”

It’s not long before my son, who had just taken his finance into work, walked into the house.

“Mom, I think there’s a fire or something across the road. There’s smoke coming from the woods by the field. Maybe somebody dropped a cigarette over there?”

I’m again at the kitchen window looking out. I don’t see a blasted thing and so I say.  “Mom, it’s there when the wind blows and the smoke comes out of the woods into the field.”

Out go hubs and son to investigate. I step outside but I don’t smell anything burning but the wood smoke from our neighbor’s furnace, a mile away. The same smell I caught when I was watching the birds and drinking my coffee. I’m thinking that my guys are delusional.  They can get that way at times. <grin>

About twenty-five minutes later my husband comes back in and in his best Inspector Clouseau voice announces, “The mystery is sol-ved.”

“No fire, right Inspector?”

“No, but I can show you what it is. Come with me.”

I grab a jacket and follow him out to the edge of the yard facing the field and woods across the road. I still don’t smell or see anything. “I’m here. What am I supposed to be seeing?”

Smoke is actually Red Cedar releasing pollen

“Just be patient and watch the edge of the woods.”

  

I’m about ready to go back into the house when a gust of wind blows and sure enough, from the edge of the woods is a cloud of smoke.  My nose is flaring but the smell isn’t from something burning. I should qualify that by explaining that my husband calls me the bloodhound because I usually can smell things others can’t.

Bronzed Male Cedar (left) female on the right.

So what is this smoke? 

We have a lot of Eastern Red Cedar trees, one of Missouri's more common trees, otherwise known as Juniperus virginiana. Red Cedar trees aren't true cedar trees, they're juniper trees. When the male cones are mature, usually late February through March in Missouri, they release their dust-like pollen into the air. The pollen is so abundant that small "clouds" of it are released when a gust of wind shakes the branches of a male cedar tree. When the wind rises, great gritty clouds of the pollen drift aloft, making the woods look like they are aflame. After the pollen is shed, the tiny male cones will fall from the trees. The pollinated female cones, on female trees, will continue to grow and develop into this year's crop of cedar "berries." Great news for birds and gin lovers.

Male cedar cones releasing pollen (Missouri forestry pic)

I had heard about this pollen release but had never witnessed it. I was now. I was also smart enough, considering we have several lining the property on this side of the yard, to beat feet for the house. "Let's go. You do not want to be out here as the wind releases this stuff. It can make you very sick." 

Female cedar w/berries (MO forestry)

And it's true, If there are multiple male trees releasing the pollen it is like a cloud of smoke from a fire and the wind can blow it four or five miles (or more) from the trees. At that distance the pollen is more widely diffused, but up close to the cedars it's dense and not all good to breathe in. It can inflame your eyes, throat, and lungs and cause itching and multiple sneezing jags. It makes a person lethargic as the body's histamines try to fight it off. It's nasty stuff.

Fortunately for us the wind was carrying it away from the house, but it's been rather uncomfortable the past week since we have a bumper crop of male cones—makes the cedars look almost bronze. No wonder it looked like wood smoke when the wind blew.

This will all be done soon and then comes the nasty yellow-green pollen of the oaks and walnut trees that coat everything in sight. I have no idea how bad that will be this year. Now, that pollen does make sick—headaches, irritability, and dizzy. I have several packs of face masks and it does help when I want to be outside. We're surrounded by forests of various wind pollinators like oaks, hickory, sycamore, and walnut. 

Blech!

The good news is it's not a fire and it's usually all done by the end of April.

(Pics not taken by me are from Missouri forestry archive pictures) 

MONDAY MUSINGS—A LITTLE LESS THINKING AND A LOT MORE ACTION

Last week, as I was reading other blogs, one blogger mentioned things they that pull them out of a story. I have several favorite writers and one just released a book. These are auto buy books for me and her quality and storytelling abilities are well developed. Her characters are intense, and they’re enhanced warriors with a special skill set. Women are just as deadly as the men. Great, I love that, and overall it’s an excellent kick ass story. Still, there were certain scenes that there was too much intrusion of inner dialog.

For example, we come to the first love scene. I don’t know about others but I don’t do much thinking when having sex. My focus is on my partner and mutual pleasure.

The guy strokes her leg, watches her eyes change, her reactions to his touch, I can see it I’m connected to both, and then…he goes off into a paragraph or two of thinking and planning how he’s going to have to handle her fears? 

Seriously? 

Wait a minute, what happened to the lovemaking while all this thinking is happening? Are we on hold? It sure feels like it and bam, there goes my connection to the scene. 

Then it’s the woman’s turn and with all the inner dialog on

failures and worries. The whole scene is a series of stops and starts. While I understand there is some thoughts that are needed to make the love scene solid, rule of thumb is there should be action and emotional reaction in romance, but it shouldn’t stop the scene with paragraphs and a laundry list of unneeded angst or worries and plans for the next battle. And not every other paragraph in every love scene which spans ten plus pages. And bopping back and forth between her and then him thinking? 

Was it good for you Baby? Um, no. Arranging my sock drawer is looking better and better.

 

Reminds me of a song by Toby Keith about a little less talk (thought) and lot more action.

And I’ll be honest, I don’t always read the full love scenes, especially when they’re…rather graphic. I tend to skim them, okay, they’re making love, I got it. I don’t need every single breath, move, sigh, and groan. But with her stories you can’t skim as much because she drops some important bits of information. She doesn’t do it in her other action scenes—they’re tight and flow smooth as silk.

Maybe it’s just me but it’s irritating to the max. I wanted to throw the book across the room. Unfortunately, I’ve seen a few other authors doing this sort of thing lately. Sigh.

Here in the McKye world, the weather has been so mild it’s got me thinking about gardening and planning out the growing world for the McKye ranch. Of course, it’s much too early to implement but the ‘want to’ is there. <grin> A lot of prep work is still needed. And speaking of prep work I’ve been also been working on my manuscript.

Like with the gardening, there is a lot of prep-work needed. I have a very basic outline and I wrote several chapters to give me the feel of the characters. The world I’m creating is going to need some research to get it right. This project is also outside my usual genre. This one started out as a writing challenge. I already know this one will stretch me as a writer but I like the premise a lot. There are some weapons and their uses I need to be more familiar with to incorporate into the story and decisions on the clothing. It’s set, initially, in our world but there is a portal to another world that has moved one a different timeline, so I'm thinking  there will probably need have some differences. 

When you think different clothes then you have to think about materials that fit in the other world. And foods. What do they eat? What kinds of animals inhabit this world? It's earth, but not quite. It's fun to contemplate. I really like the main character and I'm still developing her sidekick. I know what he is and what he can do, mostly, because I know his parents and their purpose (that was in part of the character chapters I wrote) but now he needs to develop his unique personality and bridge to the main character. It's been a challenge but a fun one. So far.

How’s life in your corner of the world today?  Any thoughts on too much inner dialog when you’re writing or reading?