When Reading Gets You

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Book stack

The story goes: when I learned to read.

But that tale isn’t complete because, for a lot of us, learning to read doesn’t end in identifying as a “reader.”

Instead, we might say: oh, I wish I read more.

Or: Too bad I don’t have more time/there aren’t more hours in a day/if I were on permanent vacation, then I’d become a reader! Yeah. When I retire.

Or: I only read non-fiction/newspapers/magazines.

Apparently, if we can’t gobble twelve novels in a fortnight, we aren’t truly readers. I guess we’re dabblers? We’re book hobbyists, who are admittedly less than devoted to our hobby. With the television and training for a marathon and practicing with the band and cooking seven nights a week for the kids, putting in extra hours at work, we never reach the Reading Ideal.

Which is what?

The story goes: sometimes it doesn’t matter how you fill your time. When reading gets you, it has you. You pick up one book. You pick up another. Soon, you’ve read so many, they’re melding together in your mind.

A good friend of mine once grabbed a stack of books he found in a parking lot. One seemed interesting, so he read it. Which of course led to reading another. Another. You see . . . reading got him.

A co-worker’s husband devoted himself to one non-fiction account of local color and then reading got him. He descended into a frenzy. Anything he could get his hands on. Book after book. He hasn’t stopped yet.

The story goes: reading might eventually let you go. Who knows when it’ll pick you up again. Don’t prepare. If it happens, then it does. Go with it.

Getting Back To It

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All the blankets

August into September was a whirlwind. Whew! As my summer sabbatical drew to a close, the September crush of work and life distracted me from reflecting and celebrating here on Whole Heart Local, which I so enjoy doing.

So, a few things:

Looking Back
One important milestone that has passed, but should be mentioned, is that Whole Heart Local’s 1 Year Anniversary was September 15th

Looking Forward
This fall, continuing my effort to complete my novel, I anticipate decreasing my blog posts to one per week
Also, stay tuned for a few new Librarytours

This blog is important to me, both as a place to wonder and create beauty and as a professional representation of my writing. I don’t expect to desert it, despite my record for sudden silences. So, my friends, please forgive my most recent lapse.

Onward and upward!

Boston Skillshare 2012 – A Review

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I consider the annual Boston Skillshare a quiet revolution. Each year, hundreds of people gather to share, teach, connect, celebrate, and practice the art of learning outside the context of conventional learning practices. The one Boston-area event that I will hard-sell to pretty much anyone willing to listen (all ages, all genders, you’ve got a pulse? Come to the Skillshare!), this year’s bundle of workshops was held in a new location, JP’s Spontaneous Celebrations.

Boston Skillshare - considering the workshops

Although one day of skillsharing really wasn’t enough for me (usually it occurs over a weekend), I appreciated, as always, the homemade vegetarian breakfast and lunch (included in the $3-$10 sliding scale entrance fee) and the opportunity to unabashedly get my learn on.

This year, I enjoyed:
Basic Tree Identification (my partner and I pretend-compete to identify trees, birds, and dogs)
The Science and Art of Making Your Own Household Products (so far I’ve used these recipes to successfully make glass cleaner and deodorant)
Freeing Your Natural Voice (theory about how we vocalize sounds, and exercises)

Next year I hope to get back into teaching -perhaps a reprise of my Crochet 101 and Crochet 102: Granny Squares workshops, or something new. We’ll see!

Ajay compares leaves

34, Meet 120

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Today, taking a break from writing, I wandered the Arnold Arboretum. Now, I’ve long known about the metal identification tags attached to most of the trees, imparting information about the species, Latin names, all that. However, this afternoon I discovered the key to reading those labels and lo, behold! Suddenly I have access to a whole new way to experience the collection.

Thirty-four years, meet one-hundred and twenty years.

Among the beeches

What Is It: Cradle Bench

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I appreciate clever guerilla art, whether it’s yarn bombing, handmade additions to street signs, or a bench that, on second glance, is no ordinary bench.

Lauren models how to use the bench

My lovely friend Lauren models proper bench-sitting

This What Is It might be better categorized as a Friday Favorite, because it’s cheating a bit. (Shh!) The internet, turns out, has lots to say about the mysterious cradle bench bolted into place very near the normal benches on Jamaica Pond.

cradle bench

Struck in the Face by Bees

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Bee on sunflower in Lowell, MA

It’s a thing. Don’t believe me?

The scene: Riding your bike so innocently down some idyllic street, you notice a fuzzy bumble. It’s, say, forehead-height. Zigging, zagging, buzzing. You think, I’m commuting with nature. How sweet! The bee suddenly swings a left, following a pathway visible only to itself (or perhaps only invisible to humans) and WAP!!! Struck in the face by a bee.

Does it hurt? You ask, remembering your own bad/terrible/not-so-memorable experience with bee stings.

Well. Those velvety looking yellow/black/translucent bodies are more sharp edges, “muscle”, and bristle than they look, but I’d describe the experience as mostly a shock. And you can bet that, when I see those ladies/gents coming, I consider taking a different route.

However, bees are everywhere, pollinating and crunching wood (some of them) . . . head-bashing unsuspecting-city cyclists. All in a day’s work, ma’am.

Summer Goals

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Many notes on numerous drafts of my novel

Seven year’s notes

It wasn’t until college that I became a goal-setting animal. Before then, I tended to follow the wandering path –noticing neither hits nor misses other than traditional milestones like going to prom and graduating from high school. Meeting my college roommate, still a dear friend to this day, changed all that. Other than my mother, never before had I spent time with such a deliberate planner and fastidiously organized person!

<semi-related tangent>When Deba’s cat Jack came to live with me “temporarily” while she relocated to Germany for adventure, first I received letters in the mail “from the cat”, then the cat showed up with all his necessary items – including complete medical records, labeled medications, favorite toys, and litter box! That’s my Deba!</tangent>

Fast-forward a decade. After an epiphany wherein I finally asked myself the right questions about what to do with my life, I was granted leave from work to finish the novel I started writing in 2005. Like any good goal-setter, I hastened to the list making. Below is an overview of what I’m attempting to accomplish, and how I’m faring thus far:

  • Finish 3rd draft of my work-in-progress by July 31: I’m not sure whether I’m ashamed or relieved that I didn’t think to define what I meant by “draft.” What I ended up with on July 31 didn’t look quite draft (hodgepodge of sparklingly revised chapters, other chapters barely begun, whole themes missing, and how about that character arch?), but it’s something, so I’ll take it!
  • Go on retreat to write a large portion of the novel: Done!
  • Draft of query letter to publishers, agents, whoever: Upcoming – I hope.
  • Write initial ten pages of next novel: I’m looking forward to this! Nice to meet some new characters.
  • Redistribute the items I own but don’t use: With this, I’m really succeeding. Probably because moving my stuff around is a deliciously satisfying way to procrastinate, like a squirrel burying nuts –so good, even if you don’t remember it later. So far, I’ve gone through and redistributed a good portion of my clothing and this past weekend, consolidated my books to just one shelf. Hotchacha!
  • Decide on new bike to purchase: On-going. I haven’t gotten very far with this because it’s a struggle for me to balance creating and consuming. If I do one, I tend not to have time for the other. In the meantime, my current bike is cheerfully rotting away into flaky paint and dirt.

In a recent email to a friend, I explained that working on the novel this summer has been a lesson in managing trust and letting go of perfection. Until I typed those words, I hadn’t considered this truth so succinctly. One item I left off the list, however, was hope.

2 Macs

Left: Orange Julius, my old Macbook warrior
Right: Ghost of Julius’s future splitting time between emails and writing