Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Ode to Deadlines

I love goals. I love deadlines.

I discovered during college that I was practically the only student suffering from this malady, but I really do love deadlines. They are wonderful. They create a sense of pressure, an amazing panic of thought, and a plethora of clumsy mistakes as fingertips race to hit the wrong keys. Deadlines also help people accomplish insane, massive assignments within a set amount of time.

I’m as much into overkill, apparently, as the main climax of Gladiator. (For the record, I only watched the second half of the movie, in between helping a friend decipher her knitting instructions and trying to read Doctor Zhivago. If you’ve watched the whole thing—good for you. Now find something better to do with your time.) I like to get things done. Getting things done gives me a sense of security.

Unfortunately, as you might well guess, this focus on ‘getting things done’ disrupts my life at times. If for some unplanned reason I miss a deadline, if I fail to get something done, I lose my sense of accomplishment.

Just now, I only have on major goal on my calendar—to finish my current novel by the end of the year. I’m setting my New Year’s goals early, getting ahead on the game. It shouldn’t be too bad. I only have to write a dozen more chapters in the next two and a half weeks.

Only problem? I originally intended to finish the story by Thanksgiving. Then, after a month long delay in September, I pushed the deadline back New Year's Eve. Based on ay reasonable calculation, I should be able to write a couple thousand words a day. It would only take, say, 4-8 hours, depending on my thought-processing speed. Unfortunately, that doesn't include delays from plot complications. And being sick for a week—enough time to read 14 books, but not enough to write anything.

Still, I’m learning to cope. I would usually be in panic mode by now, but I'm handling it okay. Maybe I'll finish the book by the end of January. If not, I'll give myself permission to extend the deadline again.

And maybe, by the time I finish, I'll have figured out the plot for the next book in the series. Until it changes. After all, I'll have plenty of time to create deadlines for that book also.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Scrooge’s Friends

A day or two after our trek in the forest, my sister and I checked out a different sort of wilderness—the local movie theater. Not to worry, though. We were only watching a rerun of the Muppet Christmas Carol.

The Muppet Christmas Carol has been an old family favorite, at least for the past few years, after a friend introduced us to the movie.

However, this being my fourth of fifth time through, I caught a line that now bothers me immensely. Toward the end, once he is reformed and everyone can live happily ever after, Scrooge claims, “If you need to know/ The measure of a man/ You simply count his friends.”


I know some people think the person with the most friends wins, but really? Especially in the world of Facebook ‘friends’—really?

A quick search found that the most popular, the most liked ‘people’ worldwide according to Facebook include Lady Gaga (5th), Texas Hold’em Poker (1st), and Harry Potter (19th). There is even a Facebook page for “Becoming a fan of odd pages”—with 135 likes.

While I’m grinching about Facebook, please note that the “Abraham ‘Honest Abe’ Lincoln” page has over 40,000 likes, yet the number of likes (or dislikes) Abraham Lincoln receives on Facebook or any other popularity indicator can tell us nothing about his actual skills and principles as a U.S. President.

Moving on to another historical figure, the Emperor Tiberius presumably had any number of friends. In his day, if you weren’t the emperor’s friend, you were probably dead. The Jewish rulers considered this a compelling argument for Pontius Pilate, telling him that if he let Christ go, “You are not Caesar’s friend” (John 19:12).

I could list any number of honest, commendable, and yet completely unrecognized persons, who go about their days, doing exactly what they are supposed to be doing, yet not making a show of just doing what they’re supposed to be doing. They probably have a few friends, more than you’d guess at first sight. Unfortunately, I can’t cite their example, because they are for the most part honest, commendable, and unrecognized.

Even in the Christmas Carol, Scrooge doesn’t become reformed because he gives people fabulous gifts—he gives gifts because he’s been reformed. And, while Scrooge becomes a very nice, very friendly gentleman after his reform, even remembering the “cheeses for us meeces,” we know from other stories that gift-friendships often disappear after the gifts end.

So, if it makes your Christmas shopping any easier—you don’t have to buy everyone you know something fabulous, just so they’ll be your ‘friend.’ There's only one friend that really matters, and he was the original Christmas gift.
Merry Christmas!

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Cinderella photos

I now have photos of Cinderella, courtesy of Hilltop News. Check them out below!

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Paradise Creek

My sister and I went out for a walk today and got pleasantly lost in a very small sort of woods—wherever I went, I could see the fence rail on the hill above me, and the tennis courts through the trees below. (We would recommend it very much for Pooh, as a thoughtful place to think, or else a very comfortable place in which to get lost, if one must get lost.)

It was an upside-down sort of walk, from the moment we set out in a half-inch dusting of snow. Snow? Yes, it was actually the wet white stuff that turns everything cold and slushy. Fortunately for our walk, it disappeared once we got down the first hill and into town. From there on, we noticed—and photographed—all the anomalies we discovered along the way, and they were many.

We started by finding Paradise—Paradise Creek, that is. Aren’t we sometimes optimistic about our names?

Should the name be considered a simple irony? Does it hint at the sort of hope that ‘springs eternal,’ to which we are all prone? Can it indicate that this dingy rivulet is, in fact, far better than it looks? Perhaps it suggests the road to Paradise—unpromising at times, but far pleasanter in the end? Or else it just looks nicer in the spring, when the grass is green and the trees have leaves.

We left the question and Paradise Creek behind, wandering our way up the road, passing castles along the way, and dodging cars and pickups at every crosswalk.

Once we entered the woods, though, we entered the stillness where cars could not make their way and dogs were prohibited…

…as were also, apparently, upside-down bicycles. If you find your way here, make sure your bicycle remains in an upright position at all times. (No, I still don’t have a camera. The photos are courtesy of my sister, along with a few of the random thoughts.)

We also found some odd-shaped flora.

We could have stopped for lunch, but we were a little early for that, and the picnic table had just enough snow on it to make things uncomfortable.

So, since—unlike Pooh—we did not have to wait for Tigger to unbounce, our walk soon ended and we emerged from the woods—into another galaxy.

I'll let you know if we manage to find our way home again.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Cinderella: Afterthoughts

Stunning, spectacular, fantastic…now with photos!

Yes, we went to see Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. No, the audience was not all girls, though we saw quite a few princesses scattered through the crowd.

A family affair. Photo/Jacob Bowdoin, Hilltop News

I never knew before that there were so many ways to take off and try on a shoe.

From the crowded marketplace to the stately ballroom, Corban Theatre staged an elegant and impressive performance. Nothing dragged. Nothing stopped moving for a moment, even when the entire chorus froze behind Cinderella and Prince Christopher for their romantic duet.

 The ballroom at the palace. Photo/Jacob Bowdoin, Hilltop News

The stage design and theatrical effects shone, with moonlight lamps, magic fires, and a rotating set. Still, as amazing as stage effects can be, this is theater—the most amazing thing that can happen on stage comes from the actors. It’s what happens when an actor loses himself in his role or an actress focuses the audience’s attention so intently on this cute pumpkin over here that it actually becomes the elaborate orange coach rolling there across the other side of the stage. In movies, it’s called CGI, but on stage, it’s magic.

And then, there were the king’s attempts to reassure his wife that they don’t need an expensive ball—“Our son isn’t unhappy. I asked him if he was happy, and he said he was fine!”

Not to mention that this is an utterly naïve king, who believes that “Of course, they love me—I’m the king.”

Slight pause.

“They do love me, don’t they?”

As with contrasting view of happiness, the play can be seen through two different interpretations.
The Normal View would consider it an unbelievably lovely and romantic story. Cinderella and Prince Christopher marry and live happily after! (Should I call that a spoiler?)

The Contrarian View, on the other hand, would feel sorry for the stepsisters. I mean, here they are, stuck with an incredibly pushy mother—“…because even if you don’t get the prince, you are going to get married this year…”—and personality quirks aside, they hardly get a fair chance, the way Cinderella sweeps in with help from her Fairy Godmother. I know most women want to be Cinderella. Sometimes, though—lacking the fairy godmother—life seems more to follow the tune of “why must the prince love a girl who is merely lovely…why can’t the prince love a girl who is merely me?”

Besides—even if you get to be Cinderella, even if everything is so beautiful you think you’re dreaming, do you really want a guy to say something like “I suppose you’re dreaming now that I’m about to kiss you?” Really?

Prince Christopher and Portia. Photo/Jacob Bowdoin, Hilltop News.

Much better was the Fairy Godmother’s folderal and fiddle-de-dee, “No, I’m not going to the ball. I’ve been to thousands and I couldn’t possibly stand another one.”

Apart from the Normal View and the Contrarian View, Director Tammy McGinnis introduced a third view, presenting Cinderella as the story of an abused woman, who manages to escape her situation with the godmother’s help. McGinnis used Corban’s production to draw attention to women caught in human trafficking, specifically through the Cinderella Campaign and a partnership with Share Hope International.
Getting ready for the party. Photo/Jacob Bowdoin, Hilltop News

P.S. For slight change of pace, Corban Theatre is already planning to stage The Hound of the Baskervilles in March.

(Edited 12/1/2011, by Audrey)

Monday, November 14, 2011


Later this week, my family and I will be heading over to Corban University for the fall play—Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella! I’ll let you know how it goes, but if you are in the area, you should drop by and see it yourself. Corban's drama program has always put on a stellar performance. Cinderella show has only four performances left, on Thursday-Saturday evenings at 7:00, and also Saturday morning at 10:00. You can find more info about tickets and prices at the official site.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Areaex I, cont.

A few days after Anna and company set out from Jicswia on their journey, they enter the mountains and encounter a late-spring snowstorm. They're able to keep on through the snow, but the journey becomes very tedious, and they're relieved to see the end of the snow. More later on the challenges of creating a convincing series of events. (This section comes from Chapter 10, but I'm planning to finish Chapter 18 in a couple more days.)

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Cameras and Writers

I’m a writer—I think I’ve mentioned that fact before, so it should come as no surprise when I mention it again here. I’m a writer, and I would never have thought to call myself a photographer until now.

Yes, I have had a camera, a Sony DSC H2—I owned said camera for about six years before leaving it lone and forlorn in the Seattle Airport. (Somebody please make a joke about cameras and lost in Seattle.) I had six years of pretty good practice with a camera, but still, a camera does not a photographer make any more than a goose quill pen turn a lousy grammarian into a stellar writer.

At the same time, I found the little gadget quite handy when I wanted to post something with only minimal description—“…and the clouds were so, like awesome! (as you can see:)”

I didn’t realize how handy that camera was until I lost it.

Now I walk down the street—or drive a few blocks—and look at the trees wishing I had some way to get a picture of that lovely gold and silver fog wreathed around them. No camera, no photo, though. I’ll just have to go back to being a writer and describe them. (Oh, wait, I just did.)

I suppose I’ll have to revise my description of myself: “I’m a writer and sometimes a photographer, so sometimes I’ll write about things and sometimes I’ll just take pictures of them, though pretty often I’ll write about them after I’ve taken the pictures of them, because I’m still mostly a writer, you see.”

Or else, until I find a new camera, I’ll just stick to saying that I’m a writer. It's simpler that way.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Thinking High Thoughts About Literature

About a year ago, after taking a class on literary criticism, I created my own literary theory.

A couple of my instructors had pointed out that heroes in epic literature tend to be ‘a representative hero,’ a character who somehow embodies his society’s basic types and tendencies. I noticed another trend in these heroes, though, and decided to write a poem about it.

Rules for a Representative Hero

Amid the metaphors
And sweeping action,
All the epic heroes are farm boys.
See them climb to greatness
By way of their pitchforks.

Odysseus was plowing
Before he was drafted,
And Telemachus only wanted
To protect his herds.
(Penelope could spin her own webs—
He just cared about his pigs.)

Before St. George won the white horse
And the fairy lady,
He was a plowboy, breaking sod.

To those who say the villain
Was Milton’s hero—
Satan never grew anything.
It was Christ who planted the garden.

Then there’s Westley, if you please,
And Luke and Sam were heroes too—

Yes, Luke Skywalker,
Fixing droids for fieldwork,
And a gardener’s nothing if not a farm boy.

Displaced, unrecognized, perhaps,
But a dirt-loving, dirt-moving,
And altogether unnoticed, unheroic, epic farm boy.

Of course, the poem now has a different connection. May I remind you that I spent the last two months working at The Farm Lodge? At the lodge, we heard the radios squawk half-a-dozen times a day: “Farm guys, do you copy?”, “Farm girls, you have a fuel customer.”

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Turnings and Returnings

So I’m back.

Actually, I’ve now been back for a full week. I flew into Eugene last Friday about 7 p.m., my family met me at the airport, and we drove out to a pizza place for dinner. We had to wait over an hour before our pizza finished baking, but we had plenty to talk about, as you might imagine.

Friday, on the flight home, especially from Port Alsworth to Anchorage, I took some lovely mountain-and-snow-and-cloud photos. Unfortunately, I left my camera (maybe on the plane?) in Seattle. I’ve tried several times, but I still can’t remember whether I left the camera on the plane or carried it off and set it down later. I’ve been hoping Alaska Airline would call to say they’ve found it, but by now, that’s not likely. The only pictures you get are these, therefore:

Thursday, October 13, 2011


The clock is ticking, the plane is waiting…

But last night we had time for a walk over the river (though dry), and through the woods...

...down to the beach for a little fishing and s’mores by the fire.

Too many clouds for a sunset, but the night before was gorgeous.

And there's rain today, just to make sure I'm ready for Oregon!

Friday, October 7, 2011

6 Days, 23 Hours

I packed my bags today, and I'm heading out.

No, I’m not headed home quite yet. Not for another week. But we’ve been working very hard the past few days to close down the lodge for the winter. We have our two last guests tonight, and when they leave tomorrow, we’ll clean the cabins one more time, package the bedding into plastic garbage bags, and turn out the lights. Then Andy, our handyman, will empty the fuel out of the heaters and drain all the water from the pipes—it takes a lot of work to get things ready for 40-below weather.

Meanwhile, at the lodge, we’ve been cleaning out cupboards and packaging up food. Breakfast tomorrow morning will be out last meal here. After breakfast, we’ll be eating at Jael’s house for the next week until we leave. The other girls and I are moving over there too, since we won't have water in the lodge after Sunday.

The pantry downstairs looks very empty now, even with a few bins with food that won’t freeze over the winter…

…Jell-O boxes, for example.

These days, the light goes pretty quick as well. At eight, when I went down to close our gift-shop for the night, the mountains were glowing with fresh snow, but everything else was dark. That means it’s right about time to head home now, I think.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Puh-TAY-Tuhs, as they say in Montana

Tuesday evening this week, I felt like I had done push-ups all day.

No, I did not start on a new, vigorous exercise routine. It’s just that we spent most of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday—from 10 am to about 4 pm—digging potatoes in the lodge's garden. We had twelve rows to dig, each about 150 to 200 feet long.

Now, we had intended to wait until the plants froze, but we only had one guest on Monday and none on Tuesday or Wednesday, so we needed something to keep us busy. And we were very close to frost by Monday, anyway.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Seen The Lake, Anyone?

I've seen people hauling boats down highways, and taxying planes down runways, but hauling a plane down a runway?


This float is actually on its way to the shop for a check-up. Much more convenient to work on it there than in the lake.

Friday, September 23, 2011

No News Is Not Good

If you’ve paid attention recently, you might have noticed that I posted several sections of my story in August, but I have not posted anything in September. That’s not about to change.

When I posted my character list, I mentioned a major upset in my plot. What happened exactly?

Well, to put it allegorically, I need to digress and describe the kitchen and pantry arrangements at the lodge.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

(Actually, there were more than three bears.)

This is the story of something that happened long, long ago and far, far away. In other words, it happened here, about three weeks ago.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

First Snow

...on Holy Mountain.

We just had rain down here, though.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Shakespeare: What's in a Name?

I’ve spent the past couple of nights with the rest of the crew, watching the first three Pirates of the Caribbean. Since the motto on the front of my writer’s name-book comes from the Chinese proverb that "The beginning of wisdom is to call things by their right names," I decided to post my names for these movies.

Yes, I know that they have names already—or titles rather, and those titles don’t actually tell you what the movie is. So here are my names/subtitles to help you know what these movies are actually about:

Pirates 1: Uh-oh, someone got left behind again.
Pirates 2: Oh, look—how convenient! (The theme borrows very strongly from Wemmick’s wedding in Great Expectations. The plot borrows also the escape from an island prison in The Count of Monte Christo, Han Solo trying to blow out the Ewok’s torches, and the Orcs shooting at Isildur while he’s swimming—and that’s only the first half of the movie...)
Pirates 3: (I don’t actually know how to classify this one, other than the fact it might just have my favorite line ever—“No one move; I’ve dropped my brain!”).

P.S. I am beginning a movie-name collection, which currently includes these other two as well. Post your own favorite names for loved or unloved movies:

Star Wars Episode 3: The stars in their courses…aka “How many more bad choices can we make?” (This movie, in other words, proves Murphy’s Law).
Star Wars Episode 5: Let’s beat up on Luke!

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

PTA Trivia

We ate moose ribs for dinner last night--along with grilled salmon and veggies straight out of our garden. Oh, and the moose was shot just a couple days ago by a guide/handyman who works for the lodge. He and one of the guys on the ground crew hauled it back by boat, and several people worked at cutting it up. They just finished tonight.

Other things you might like to know about Port Alsworth:

Friday, September 9, 2011

Who's Who in Areaex

Since Emma asked me to post a character list and plot summary, I have been scrambling frantically to figure out both (at least, it was a bit of a mental scramble).

Until recently, I was debating the age-old question that haunts all writers at all times: plot first, or character first? Do I tell you about the action before I tell you about the people, or do I tell you about the people before I tell you about the events that affect them? Unfortunately, my story stalled last week about four paragraphs into chapter 12.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Mountains, again

I believe that in a previous post, I mentioned mountains, and wanting to take pictures of one particular mountain. Sometimes, however, it's hard to get a photo of the mountain, since it looks like this:

Or this:

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Cranberries anyone?

Hike on Sunday, berries on Monday—yes, things do grow up here in Alaska. In addition to a huge vegetable garden, we also have wild berries. On Monday, since we finished our other work early, we spent two hours picking wild cranberries along the roadside (i.e. along a dirt trail between the town’s two airstrips).

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Tanalian Falls: A Photo Story

I meant to post these pictures yesterday—they’re from a hike we went on Sunday afternoon up to Tanalian Falls.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

The road goes ever on and on...

Down from the door where it began…

Actually, the path goes just a couple hundred feet down the hill and then stops. We use it sometimes as a shortcut when we’re busy cleaning the cabins located conveniently near the path—or is the path conveniently located near the cabins?

The cabins—they are the main part, the heart and soul of our work at the lodge.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Moving thoughts--No Reservations

The other girls and I watched No Reservations (2007) a couple days ago. The general reaction? That is was a good movie—good acting, good dialogue, good filming.
It had minor problems with suggestiveness, but actors disappeared behind conveniently closed doors for anything more.

The story was pretty good too. An high-powered, overly-intense chef at a New York restaurant, brought out of her shell and shown the real recipe for life. We all need reminders occasionally that we are more than what we do. We do not become a failure for botching a dish or taking a few days off from 'our' kitchen.

Perceptions and Perspectives

Did I mention trees in my last post?

I don’t know why, but I’ve always pictured Alaska as huge grasslands, mostly yellow-brown. I’ve seen pictures of it, too. That’s a different part of Alaska. Here, we have trees. Yes, trees.

Many trees—rather like Oregon. I haven’t found any oaks or maples, but the hills are full of pines and alders and birches. They’ll turn yellow and gold in another month, about the time the tundra on the mountains turns fiery red.

Plus, the lodge sits on a bit of a hill, and we look across an inlet at a huge peak full of all kinds of wonderful gorges and pockets.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

A Strange New World

Three weeks ago tomorrow was the day I flew out of Anchorage.

Destination? The Farm Lodge.

To reach the lodge, you can either fly in or take a boat across Lake Clark. I haven’t flown anywhere in the past ten years, but I was supposed to reach the lodge, and I was aboard an airplane for the third time that day—from the short-hop plane out of Eugene, to the 737 from Seattle, and finally to the nine-seater belonging to Lake Clark Air. I have pictures of nearly everything else, but not the plane—mostly because I was inside the airplane, not outside taking pictures of it.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Take-off to Alaska

How to begin?

I’ve now been in Alaska two weeks and some-odd number of days, and yes—I’m collecting stories to tell. The problem is, I’ve put off beginning this far too long, and now I’m almost overwhelmed by everything I’d like to tell you about. So, I’ll break the story into parts and tell you about it a little at a time—with pictures:

Friday, August 26, 2011

Folk Song

A couple of Anna’s friends in my story like to sing. This is a folk song that they would know—it comes from Jiscwia, their home country. I tried to use a ballad’s 4-3 rhythm, but the scansion was a little tricky and the rhymes are missing entirely. I only know these four stanzas, but as you might guess, this sort of song could go on indefinitely. It always stops with the wolf, though:

I went out one morning to hear a fox bark;
He was asleep in the hay,
With a bag full of feathers lying by his side
And two chickens gone from the barn.

I went out one morning to see a fish jump;
But he hid under a log
In the shade and the shadows of the old cow pond,
And he wouldn’t come out to play.

I went out one morning to see a hawk fly;
He soared on most beautifully
Till I climbed a tree to gather an egg,
When he swooped down and drove me away.

I went out one morning to watch a wolf run;
I found him snarling by my barn.
Then I waved my arms and shouted “run away!”
And he chased me home again.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Friday, August 19, 2011

Areaex I, updates

It’s a little challenging to find a section of my story that doesn't connect to half-a-dozen other sections. I’ve broken this scene into two posts. The second half will come on Tuesday.

Here, the company has halted on the second night of their journey. The first night, they stayed in one of the hamlets, but now they have to camp out. Meygar, one of the soldiers had gone to find game, while the others built a fire:

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Greek, continued

As you might have guessed from a previous post, I like studying languages. Working with a foreign language has given me a more thorough understanding of English vocabulary and grammar.

As I’ve studied Greek, I’ve found that its grammar has some odd twists now and then. Most double negatives, for example, simply intensify the statement—“you may not jump off a cliff at all.” In certain uses, though, the double negatives cancel each other. Thus, a proverb saying “No one will not die,” actually means “everyone will die.”

Friday, August 12, 2011

Travel Plans

As most of you know by now, I have a summer job in Alaska for the next two months. I flew into Anchorage Thursday afternoon, and flew out again about an hour later to the lodge where I will be working until October. The last stretch of my flight was clear and sunny, so that I was able to see some gorgeous mountains.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Building Sand Castles

Last weekend the mountain, this week the beach at Lincoln City—and I brought home the sunburn to prove it. Actually, I was sort of smart. I put sunscreen on my face and arms, but I decided not to put any on my legs—playing in the water, I figured, would just wash it off again.

I should have at least tried.

Sunburns aside, it was a beautiful day—hardly any clouds, fog, or wind, and just enough warm enough to be pleasant.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Greek to me?

In my Greek translations, I recently ran across a number of proverbs. Apparently the textbook likes these proverbs—especially the ones expressing futility. I thought you might enjoy some of them (they are mostly my translation):

You are spitting into the sky.

You are devising a small rope out of sand.

You are singing a victory song before the victory.

You are bringing the war engines after the war.

You are shaving the lion.

A big book is a big evil.

A bad egg is of a bad crow.

The roughness of a road tests the usefulness of a donkey.

The wolf changes his hair, not his purpose.

A mob is a poor judge of beautiful things.

Lions at home, foxes in battle.

You are writing on water.

You are seeking milk from a bird.

You are lending light to the sun.

One proverb sounds suspiciously like a mixture of Shakespeare and Julius Caesar: “The world is a stage; life, an entrance—you came, you saw, you went away.” Just remember, though, “without health, life is lifeless.”

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Hiking: A Photo Story

Last weekend, with some family and friends, I packed a lunch and headed into the wilderness—the Table Rock Wilderness that is, a place where only my brother could get cellphone reception. 

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Areaex I

I discovered this week that my characters like arguing. They started arguing in chapter 6, and now they're doing it again in chapter 7. This, incidentally, is further than I've managed to write before, and the story still looks like it is working...

Friday, July 22, 2011

Beeches and other trees

What have I been doing recently? For the most part, watching the leaves grow on trees.

No, I didn’t spend this spring in a chair beside the cherry trees in our backyard, measuring their leaves every half-hour. I did watch when their leaves began to appear, how many days or weeks it took for the leaves to form, and what trees showed yellow-green or purple-green shades in their early buds.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011


As the Lore-Mistress, I serve as High-Keeper of legends, thoughts, and dreams.

To put it simply, I am a writer by trade and training. No, I am not yet a renowned novelist. Stating that I am a writer means merely that I intend to sit down at regular intervals and record words on paper—whether actual plant fiber or the electronic imitation you are reading right now. As a writer, I intend to write at least a certain number of words a day. This is called a ‘quota,’ but it can also be referred to as a deadline.

If things go well, those words will go into a novel, a magazine article, or some form of actual work. If not, then I might get around to making another blog post. I also hope to post some of my work here for you to read. I hope you enjoy it.

Respectfully yours,

Audrey E.
The Lore-Mistress and High-Keeper of Legend.