Today has been difficult I've lost a man that was very important to me, his name was Willis. He was the most gentle person I had ever known. I loved him.
He was never political, yet his friends moved in the world of politics. Willis was ...a man who crossed time. He was a pianist. The great musicians of the past lived again in his fingers when he stroked a piano's keyboard. I always marveled he read sixteenths and quarter notes, waves of tremolo, profundo, sustinado on a page like we read the letters of the alphabet in a book.
Beneath the music lived a man of many talents, he loved cooking for his friends and family. Not simple things on his menu, it had to be difficult. I remember when he did a rather large pig on an oil drum that was cut to resemble a smoker. The ropes binding the feet couldn't stand up to the heat and when the snapped towards the cook he said, "My God it looks like a burned dog!!!"
We ate potato and macaroni salad and drank many glasses of wine. Then there was the time when we had a fund raiser for the Alexandria Recital Series there were tables set out by the pool for forty. There was a sunken patio and lined by six foot plants of Cannabis.
Behind each person lies someone that is not what the surface portrays. He was a lovely man and I am so happy he was a part of my life.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Fourth Estate
Enough. I was listening to a commentator the other day and I heard him laugh at the remarks from something he'd read. You know they are responsible intellectuals who don't really digest the news and then report. These are the ones who hear the news and then report what they think their subject would want to hear. That way it's easier to transform what they've learned from their professors onto the front page of their employer's newspapers.
I listened to this person say, "Ho! Ho! They've got it wrong again. I have also heard programs from frantic people, myself included, what can we do. I suddenly realized the Tea Party Movement should have another dimension.
We meet in groups carrying signs, we stand as sentinels against Constitutional abuse, living testaments to the birth of our nation. We as a people escaped the Countries of repression. We left behind the religious persecutions, the voices that were never heard and the repressive societies and hierarchy of Europe'
We said no as a people we wanted to be free, we fought and died in forests and in towns but we prevailed. We are not Europe, for over two hundred years we have set ourselves apart from them. We are a Constitutional Representative Government. Ours is not a King, Dictator, Despot. No we send those who don't listen to us away every 2, 4 or 6 years. Unfortunately we haven't cleaned, excuse the pun, the House in decades.
The Media which has given me the inspiration to write this Post, is dead. Stage, screen, audio waves and print have sold their souls. They no longer report news as it truly is. They rely on Faxes,other reporters, source interviews and imposed filters.
Which takes me back to my original statement. Enough! People say what can I do? I believe there is an answer. I would suggest that we stop giving the print media room to wiggle. If you believe they have misstated the facts then let them know, defend your position. Challenge those who you believe are wrong. Correct in what ever form you choose to those who are supposed to be the impartial witnesses of events that concern us.
These reporters are special, because they are the ones on the front line. It's through their ready access to our leaders, the news makers, the ones who capture our evolving history on tape and paper. They interpret what they hear and give us their opinions. If they get it wrong. Challenge their reporting.
I remember when news was unfiltered, that was in the Eighties. Until then we only heard the official line and then like a breath of spring some one said out loud, on the radio, what I always thought and felt. I was freed from institutional dogma, I heard what I knew to be true.
I laughed, I cried, I yelled at the radio in agreement. At last someone else shared my opinions.
Now comes the change. We are not alone. I really wasn't alone then and I'm not alone now. Read your paper, listen to commentators and react. Send the editors and producers of mainstream media Faxes, letters, e-mails. Expose their biases. Let them know you read the words they print and listen to the words they say. Tell them enough! Bury them under your comments, expose the truth to those who will not hear.
tell them, report only the facts, don't put the reporter's opinion in the section you are reporting. The Fourth Estate is biased and has to be brought to heel. When they aren't balanced, tell them. Explain to them why they are wrong. Inundate the media with the truth and force them to listen.
We've lost our innocence. We can't laugh at them anymore. We can't say they got it wrong, and accept it because that's who they are. America is in the process of transition. We have to take on the main stream media let them know the American People are alive and well.
Send you letters, phone calls and e-mails, challenge empty headiness, bury the newspapers under reason. Don't laugh at them anymore, tell them what you think, no more laughing at them they are serious, so you must be also. Their game is in need of challenge. So go for it...
I listened to this person say, "Ho! Ho! They've got it wrong again. I have also heard programs from frantic people, myself included, what can we do. I suddenly realized the Tea Party Movement should have another dimension.
We meet in groups carrying signs, we stand as sentinels against Constitutional abuse, living testaments to the birth of our nation. We as a people escaped the Countries of repression. We left behind the religious persecutions, the voices that were never heard and the repressive societies and hierarchy of Europe'
We said no as a people we wanted to be free, we fought and died in forests and in towns but we prevailed. We are not Europe, for over two hundred years we have set ourselves apart from them. We are a Constitutional Representative Government. Ours is not a King, Dictator, Despot. No we send those who don't listen to us away every 2, 4 or 6 years. Unfortunately we haven't cleaned, excuse the pun, the House in decades.
The Media which has given me the inspiration to write this Post, is dead. Stage, screen, audio waves and print have sold their souls. They no longer report news as it truly is. They rely on Faxes,other reporters, source interviews and imposed filters.
Which takes me back to my original statement. Enough! People say what can I do? I believe there is an answer. I would suggest that we stop giving the print media room to wiggle. If you believe they have misstated the facts then let them know, defend your position. Challenge those who you believe are wrong. Correct in what ever form you choose to those who are supposed to be the impartial witnesses of events that concern us.
These reporters are special, because they are the ones on the front line. It's through their ready access to our leaders, the news makers, the ones who capture our evolving history on tape and paper. They interpret what they hear and give us their opinions. If they get it wrong. Challenge their reporting.
I remember when news was unfiltered, that was in the Eighties. Until then we only heard the official line and then like a breath of spring some one said out loud, on the radio, what I always thought and felt. I was freed from institutional dogma, I heard what I knew to be true.
I laughed, I cried, I yelled at the radio in agreement. At last someone else shared my opinions.
Now comes the change. We are not alone. I really wasn't alone then and I'm not alone now. Read your paper, listen to commentators and react. Send the editors and producers of mainstream media Faxes, letters, e-mails. Expose their biases. Let them know you read the words they print and listen to the words they say. Tell them enough! Bury them under your comments, expose the truth to those who will not hear.
tell them, report only the facts, don't put the reporter's opinion in the section you are reporting. The Fourth Estate is biased and has to be brought to heel. When they aren't balanced, tell them. Explain to them why they are wrong. Inundate the media with the truth and force them to listen.
We've lost our innocence. We can't laugh at them anymore. We can't say they got it wrong, and accept it because that's who they are. America is in the process of transition. We have to take on the main stream media let them know the American People are alive and well.
Send you letters, phone calls and e-mails, challenge empty headiness, bury the newspapers under reason. Don't laugh at them anymore, tell them what you think, no more laughing at them they are serious, so you must be also. Their game is in need of challenge. So go for it...
Sunday, February 7, 2010
So Mister, you Think You Can Write?
I thought I might go back to the reason I started my other blog, The Pencil Pusher. However in this one, as I did then, I'll talk abut what I love the most. I am a writer or at least I pretend to be one. I am learning to enjoy the craft.
Now that I've gotten the "I's" out of my system we can proceed, (That is if you are still with me!)
To be a writer you have to read. Other writers in our group who have a grater experience than I, often told me that they have learned technique from the books on their bedside table. Ways to say or explain things that aren't text bookie. When I began writing fiction, my content work presented many different and unexpected challenges. Previously, a Grant Writer by trade, I wrote words down to address medical and social needs in the community.
However, for the past three years I've been writing fiction. There have been several promising nibbles from the publishing world but no firm deals. So I sit alone plugging away, words piling on the pages, one after the other.
I was asked to send a manuscript to an Agent in New York. It was a first for me and since it had been requested I thought the next step would be a check in the mail. Not to be. The Agent and her son were remarkable; very kind people. They turned my work down but I wasn't bloodied by their words of rejection. They both sent me an e-mail, thanking me and saying that my work had merit. Nice, huh.
My spirits did fall a bit and I put that work aside. A few months later I picked it up again and started to look seriously at the piece. What did I see? I saw problems.
My Grant work had conditioned me to take the most direct path to a problem. Identify what the problem is, explain why your organization is best positioned to solve the problem, and what networks outside of your organization you intend to use to access your target population.
You have to write realistic goals and objectives; outline a plan for evaluating your project that is measurable and not just the number of heads that walk through your door.
This format was my problem. My mindset dealt with facts, numbers and, in my case, the real world. I had to free up my mind and allow myself to slip into the shadowy realm of a writer.
I needed a strong story line on which to build. My characters had to be developed so they could realistically carry the story through to its climax. The language of the story has to push the reader to read the next page, but also the next chapter. The story helps to do this through the twists and turns, you create, to excite the reader.
Even though the story comes from the writer it needs to be believable. With these things in mind I looked critically at my work. So many errors, no wonder it had been sent back. A major fault I did not fully develop my characters until the sixth chapter.
Prior to that chapter they were simply names doing things. I wasted words describing my characters' emotions. First one way and then another. I used the passive voice too often and lost excitement. My descriptions of scenes and events were good, but that's from the grant writer in me.
I even killed a character, early on, who somehow managed to be there when the book ended, 538 pages later. It was a mess. I could see why it was rejected. Once again I put the MS aside and focused on other stories. I let my novel percolate in my subconscious. I wrote down on Post Its every idea that floated to the surface. I kept a log book of ideas, locations, character strengths and flaws. My story began to take on a life of its own in my imagination.
I read period books to get the flavor of the times in which my characters lived. I read and reread reference books to identify the landscape, topography history of and plants and animals living where my story was placed. Then I sat down at the computer and opened the pages to start reworking my flawed work.
A few days later I was startled when I saw my characters begin to come alive. They began writing the story. My fingers placed them on the page but the characters led me through their lives and the events that challenged them. Things started to happen on the computer screen. I suddenly saw action taking place, conversations between characters I hadn't thought about. All of these wonderful things sped before me on the screen.
So, now I am at work again. My book is fiction, but for me, it has now become a living, breathing entity. A place where my characters play with me and each other. I think, perhaps I may be on my way to becoming a story teller.
Can I write? Perhaps. I have been worked on my novel for two years. However despite the days spent on the book, it still remains fresh, just as fresh as when I placed the first letter on the screen. Then perhaps, I probably am a writer. A writer who is still learning, still hoping to be published, and still in love with my characters.
Now that I've gotten the "I's" out of my system we can proceed, (That is if you are still with me!)
To be a writer you have to read. Other writers in our group who have a grater experience than I, often told me that they have learned technique from the books on their bedside table. Ways to say or explain things that aren't text bookie. When I began writing fiction, my content work presented many different and unexpected challenges. Previously, a Grant Writer by trade, I wrote words down to address medical and social needs in the community.
However, for the past three years I've been writing fiction. There have been several promising nibbles from the publishing world but no firm deals. So I sit alone plugging away, words piling on the pages, one after the other.
I was asked to send a manuscript to an Agent in New York. It was a first for me and since it had been requested I thought the next step would be a check in the mail. Not to be. The Agent and her son were remarkable; very kind people. They turned my work down but I wasn't bloodied by their words of rejection. They both sent me an e-mail, thanking me and saying that my work had merit. Nice, huh.
My spirits did fall a bit and I put that work aside. A few months later I picked it up again and started to look seriously at the piece. What did I see? I saw problems.
My Grant work had conditioned me to take the most direct path to a problem. Identify what the problem is, explain why your organization is best positioned to solve the problem, and what networks outside of your organization you intend to use to access your target population.
You have to write realistic goals and objectives; outline a plan for evaluating your project that is measurable and not just the number of heads that walk through your door.
This format was my problem. My mindset dealt with facts, numbers and, in my case, the real world. I had to free up my mind and allow myself to slip into the shadowy realm of a writer.
I needed a strong story line on which to build. My characters had to be developed so they could realistically carry the story through to its climax. The language of the story has to push the reader to read the next page, but also the next chapter. The story helps to do this through the twists and turns, you create, to excite the reader.
Even though the story comes from the writer it needs to be believable. With these things in mind I looked critically at my work. So many errors, no wonder it had been sent back. A major fault I did not fully develop my characters until the sixth chapter.
Prior to that chapter they were simply names doing things. I wasted words describing my characters' emotions. First one way and then another. I used the passive voice too often and lost excitement. My descriptions of scenes and events were good, but that's from the grant writer in me.
I even killed a character, early on, who somehow managed to be there when the book ended, 538 pages later. It was a mess. I could see why it was rejected. Once again I put the MS aside and focused on other stories. I let my novel percolate in my subconscious. I wrote down on Post Its every idea that floated to the surface. I kept a log book of ideas, locations, character strengths and flaws. My story began to take on a life of its own in my imagination.
I read period books to get the flavor of the times in which my characters lived. I read and reread reference books to identify the landscape, topography history of and plants and animals living where my story was placed. Then I sat down at the computer and opened the pages to start reworking my flawed work.
A few days later I was startled when I saw my characters begin to come alive. They began writing the story. My fingers placed them on the page but the characters led me through their lives and the events that challenged them. Things started to happen on the computer screen. I suddenly saw action taking place, conversations between characters I hadn't thought about. All of these wonderful things sped before me on the screen.
So, now I am at work again. My book is fiction, but for me, it has now become a living, breathing entity. A place where my characters play with me and each other. I think, perhaps I may be on my way to becoming a story teller.
Can I write? Perhaps. I have been worked on my novel for two years. However despite the days spent on the book, it still remains fresh, just as fresh as when I placed the first letter on the screen. Then perhaps, I probably am a writer. A writer who is still learning, still hoping to be published, and still in love with my characters.
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