Coffee Coffee Coffee

I developed my taste for coffee as a child, finishing cups my mom left unguarded:  it was lukewarm, creamy, and especially sweet from all the sugar that had sunk to the bottom.

Years later, as a teen in France staying with a host family, I was served giant mugs of black coffee (I declined the milk; it looked weird).  I remember going to the school, shaking from the caffeine pulsing through my veins.

In college, I developed my habit: at least a cup a day.

The past couple months, I've brought a large thermos of coffee to work.  Three cups a day became my norm.

Despite all this coffee, I felt tired.  No amount of caffeine seemed to perk me up.  So two weeks ago, I gave up my morning coffee.  At work, during the middle of the day, I drank a small glass. But the next day, I didn't.  Now I drink tea some mornings; I did have a cappuccino on Saturday.  At work today I stared at our Keurig single-cup machine.  I thought about how much I'd love some coffee.  But I didn't make any.

I'm weaning myself off, and so far I've been lucky enough to avoid headaches.  I don't mean to give up coffee completely: I just don't want to be so dependent.

I'll also be glad when it doesn't consume my every thought :)

(There's an episode of "Gilmore Girls" where, because the main character is in a fight with Luke, the diner owner, Lorelei has to go to a new place for coffee.  She orders, "Coffee coffee coffee!" The woman, not understanding Lorelei's enthusiasm for coffee, brings out three mugs of it.  If you haven't watched "Gilmore Girls," I recommend it.)

Chapter One

My manuscript is currently in the hands of a select few trusted readers.  I'm waiting for feedback and criticism that will, hopefully, help me shape the book into something publishers will want.  Saturday I met with one of my "beta" readers--my awesome critique partner who's been there every step of the way--and received some invaluable feedback.

Not only did she meticulously read it, line by line, noting what she liked with exclamation points, and noting what didn't work and why, but she also articulated what I hadn't been able to put into words: the first chapter seems told in a different voice.

I spent the longest on chapter one.  I had to make sure it did everything I needed the first chapter to do:  Introduce important details and set the stage for the mystery and plot to follow.  Time and care were spent getting my paragraphs just right.

But as I wrote and got to know the character better, I'd like to think I became more comfortable.  The sentences flowed more smoothly.

Knowing some of the problems with the first chapter, I can return to it and improve it.  When I tried to do this a couple months ago, I had trouble even adding a sentence to it.  I think I was still too close to the words.  Now, fortunately, they're less "darling" to me.

Setting Myself Up

For the past couple months, my laptop was on the coffee table.  I sat on the edge of the couch, hunched my body, and did whatever I wanted on the computer: Check Reds scores or watch Hulu or Netflix; read blogs and "like" things on Facebook; yell at politicians.  I had the world at my fingertips.   Click, click, click.

But you know what's hard to do, hunched over on a couch?  Write.  It's awkward and uncomfortable.  Even leaning back on the couch, my laptop on my lap, I found myself avoiding Blogger.  I focused for a few minutes before switching to a tab that gave me more instant gratification.

I've been beating myself up for not writing and for not wanting to write.  I've been angry that I haven't found any inspiration for writing.  But I have to give myself a chance, right?  Today I moved my laptop back to my awesome desk, in the room with my giant penguin and comfortable office chair.

We'll see what happens.

Trip to Pompeii

I haven't fallen off a cliff; nor have I lost my ability to type or compose sentences.   The past couple months, however, I've thought of myself more as a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a girlfriend, and a library worker than as a writer.

Not that I have to think of myself as a writer to post blog entries... I just have to feel like I have something to say.  And time to say it well.


Yesterday, my boyfriend and I went to the Museum Center at Union Terminal to see the Pompeii exhibit.  I didn't bring my camera to the exhibit, but here are some pictures from outside the building and inside its gorgeous rotunda:

The Long Arc of History

The arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice.  This week, the President of the United States came out for marriage equality.  People may argue that it doesn't matter, that it doesn't change the hearts and minds of bigots, that laws are still the same.  But I think it matters a lot.  The most powerful man in the world just acknowledged that gay men and women deserve the same rights as their straight counterparts.  He acknowledged that a civil union is not the same as marriage.

We've passed the tipping point.  Never again will we have a Democratic nominee for President against marriage equality.  The question is, how long will it be before the other party climbs out of its cave?

More Lightning

If April showers bring May flowers, what do May thunderstorms bring?

My boyfriend took both of these with a really long shutter; that's how he got multiple strikes in one frame.

Lightning Strikes...

I know life is getting back to normal for me when insignificant things like this bother me:

I preordered "Insurgent," the sequel to Veronica Roth's "Divergent," for my Nook.  "Insurgent" was released today.  But my mom has borrowed my Nook, and even though I've paid for the book, none of my software is letting me open up the book file on my computer.  Argh.

Electronic books are here to stay.  But Barnes and Noble will have to do a better job of giving us access to our books--and allow us to share and lend our books--if it wants to remain relevant.

Anyway, things are getting back to normal.  Work's good.  I bought a new camera (through this link so a portion of the sale went to my dad's foundation!)

Wildflowers in a nearby park

And taken this evening, during a nasty thunderstorm (well, not nasty--I love thunderstorms, the louder the better) I took this with a 5-second shutter speed.