Going Inkless

Well, we've finally done it.  After years of writing, editing, rewriting, soliciting agents, researching self-publishing, and formatting our book to suit the publisher, the novel my husband and I started together is available in paperback form.  Along the way, I've had to learn a lot of new things. I built a website, and I switched to an entirely new word processing program.  I've converted all sorts of files and studied advice on working with digital images to get the right results in the final print.  In the story, we've had to adjust some of our original ideas, and the book that's published now is a little different than the early manuscripts we distributed to friends and family for review.  But I think, all in all, it's a stronger piece. And it's fatter, too.  I honestly didn't realize how thick it would get when we converted it from standard letter sized pages to a 6 x 9 trade paperback book.  Still, it was a very satisfying feeling to hold the pr

     I haven't really ridden a bicycle in almost twenty years.  The qualifier is in that statement because there have been a couple of opportunities to spend some insignificant time pedalling.  A few years ago, my husband joined me on some long walks in the state park, me on foot and him on his bicycle.  The bike was gentler on feet and joints, and I did take a turn in order to demonstrate that I am too short to use his bicycle. But that sort of thing is not what I would consider really riding.      Despite the lull, there was a time when being on a bike was as much a part of my life as swimming, running barefoot up and down the lakeshore, or sitting in the branches of a mulberry tree.  Before that phase, there are memories of learning to ride, of standing in the driveway with tear-streaked cheeks, kicking my bike.  My knees and palms were bloody and crusted with dirt and tiny stones.  Our home at that time offered only grass, dirt and gravel for riding surfaces, and none of them

     I've never been one to make New Year's resolutions.  It's not that I don't believe in self-reflection or the power of declaring your intent to make positive changes in your life.  I don't think I'm perfect or that I don't need those little adjustments.  We're all capable of honing ourselves by whittling away the bad habits and starting new healthy ones.  It's just always felt a bit artificial to make some grand pronouncement about how you will change just because the old calendar is going in the trash can. (And if you're going to make a change, how about putting it in the recycling bin or investigating ideas for turning it into something new?)  When it's timely to change my ways, I will.  I won't wait for January 1, and I won't doom myself to failure by trying changes I'm not ready for just because I feel new year pressure.      Nevertheless, I do make Chinese New Year resolutions.  Not logical.  I know.  But, there it is.

     I cringe when I hear someone called "crafty", and I doubt I will ever feel comfortable using the word on someone who does crafts.  This is one of those situations where common misuse legitimizes an error, like the modern spelling of "donut".  What was once improper becomes not only accepted, but more commonly used than the original.  Language changes with use.  It is alive that way, and I fully accept that describing someone as crafty now means that they either enjoy doing crafts or excel at them, or some combination of the two.  It just doesn't sit right that way in my vocabulary.      When I first encountered the word, it didn't apply to crafts at all.  If you were good with your hands or inclined to crochet, whittle or make collages, people might say you were creative, talented or industrious.  To say you were crafty would be mildly insulting.  It meant you were up to something, something that probably had little to do with yarn or glitter- unless

There is a certain amount of security and comfort in doing things the hard way. That may seem counter intuitive , but it's true. Nobody likes trouble, and humankind is known for going to great lengths to make their lives easier. The easy way has its obvious attractions: less work, fewer problems, quicker rewards. Still, troubles will come your way unbidden from time to time, regardless of your choosing the easy road. Every person must deal with hardships at some point. Occasionally choosing to rough it prepares you for the unexpected and gives you peace of mind knowing that you are capable of handling those troubles. There is often satisfaction in taking on a difficult goal and working to the solution. People do puzzles and read mysteries for just that reason. Human beings need to be challenged to be happy. Yet, I'm still faced with quizzical looks when I choose a tougher path. Several years ago, I spent a week of vacation building a large terraced planter in the f