Josie Lynn Books: Imagine the Possibilities

Category: Writer’s Block

  • Bad Spellers Untie

    The first time I saw this slogan on a T-shirt in a Signals catalog (not that I’m promoting Signals…not that I’m not promoting Signals…I’m just saying), I liked it because on the spelling continuum I fall somewhere in the dead middle—not the world’s best speller, not the world’s worst speller. To put it mildly, I’m in no danger of winning any spelling bees. I’m not proud of that. Once again, I’m just saying.

    In fifth grade, I was the class champion when it came to state capitals. (I might be a little proud of that.) I was the speed locater of states on our pull-down map in the front of the classroom. But stand me up in front of people and ask me to spell out loud I’m more than likely going to choke. “I before E except after C…” Except that that’s not entirely true. So many rules, so many exceptions to the rules. Things aren’t always what they sound like. Good grief! (Or is it “greif”? Just kidding. I know!)

    Watch this hilarious clip from the Tony Awards (at least through 2:44)

    Can You Raed This?

    A long while ago, a friend sent me an e-mail that asked the question, “Can You Raed This?” and claimed that according to a “study” at “Cmabrigde Uinervtisy” it has been determined that the order of letters in a word is unimportant as long as you get the first and last letter correct. It had something to do with how we don’t look at every single letter when reading a word, but at the word as a whole.

    As an average/bad/not great speller, this notion sounded good to me. Unfortunately, it turns out that the email was spurious, untrue, an urban myth. The order of letters in a word is important after all. Too bad.

    Untie, Unite

    However, something that did give me hope was raeding, urm, reading a little book called Love and Freindship [sic], a pretty hilarious tale in which a teenage Jane Austen basically makes fun of the romantic novels that were popular in her day. The book contains misspelled words, and I find it encouraging to note that Jane wasn’t all that fastidious about the order of letters in every single little word; she was too concerned about the order of the words themselves.

    If only Jane had reminded herself that friend is spelled friend because a true friend is loyal to the end….

    The bottom line is, I love words, but I’m not a huge fan of spelling. Neither was Jane Austen. That’s what editors are for.

    Which brings me to the crux of the matter. Could it be that, as a writer, I feel that details like spelling are too nuts and bolts and get in the way of the creative flow? I hope not. Because no matter how amazing your words are, if no one can decipher them or if they have to spend too much time deciphering them, your writing is not going to bring anyone any pleasure. And while the idea of a fourteen-year-old bad speller who grew up to be Jane Austen is quaint, the idea of me sending you poorly spelled emails is not.

    Of course, as a self-published author, one must pay attention to things like spelling and such. One must grow up, just like Jane Austen went from Love and Freindship to Pride and Prejudice….

    Note: The story Love and Freindship has nothing in common with the 2016 movie Love & Friendship. That movie is based on Jane’s novel Lady Susan. In the story Love and Freindship, teenage Jane Austen writes: 

    “One fatal swoon has cost me my Life… Beware of swoons Dear Laura…. A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare say conducive to Health in its consequences—Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not faint—”

    Wise words indeed, even if some of them are spelled rather creatively.

  • Everything’s coming up roses!

    Everything’s coming up roses!

    I recently heard someone (on TV) use the expression, “In the weeds,” which was an idiom I had never heard before. Based on the context, I thought I had a pretty good idea what was meant, but I decided to look it up. It got me thinking about a post I wrote ages ago about horse idioms…so I tried to compile a list of idioms that involve plants (weeds, flowers, grass, and trees)…Here’s what blossomed:

    1. In the weeds – to be so busy/behind schedule/overwhelmed that it would be impossible to catch up.
    2. Down the garden path – to mislead someone.
    3. Nip in the bud – to stop something before it has a chance to get started.
    4. Pushing up daisies – a euphemism for dead (and buried).
    5. Stop and smell the roses – take time to enjoy the simple, beautiful things.
    6. The grass is always greener in someone else’s backyard – the tendency to romanticize what we do not have.
    7. Babe in the woods – a person who is out of his/her depth.
    8. Out of the woods – to survive a dangerous or difficult situation.
    9. Cream of the crop – the best part of a group.
    10. Out on a limb – to be in a dangerous or weak position without any support.
    11. Branch out – to try something new.
    12. Beat around the bush – the opposite of getting to the point.
    13. Can’t see the forest for the trees – to be so bogged down by details, you miss the big picture.
    14. Come out smelling like a rose – to come out of a potentially bad situation unscathed (kind of like, “the proof of the pudding is in the eating”). It reminds me of one of my favorite phrases/song titles, “Everything’s coming up roses,” which I’ve adapted to “Everything’s coming up Josie!”
    15. Money doesn’t grow on trees – a reminder that money is hard to come by and once spent, it will not regenerate itself.
    16. Barking up the wrong tree – to be wrong about someone or something.
    17. Fresh as a daisy – fresh, energetic. Warning: do not use this idiom or your writing will be anything but…
    18. Gilding the lily – to decorate something that is already decorative.
    19. Make hay while the sun shines – to take advantage of favorable conditions to get a job done (in other words, “there’s no time like the present”).
    20. Make like a tree and get out of here (I mean, make like a tree and leave) – okay, so this one isn’t strictly an idiom…it’s more like a bad pun…courtesy of Biff from Back to the Future, and I think this one is pretty self-explanatory.

    Can you add any fun, colorful, flora expressions to the list? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

  • Whatchamacallit…Part Two

    Do you know what this thing is called?

    Hint, it’s not called that thing above the 7.

    While it represents the word and, technically, it’s not called and or even the and symbol (although, you could call it that, and people would probably know exactly what you mean). This thing has an actual name. If you watch Wheel of Fortune (or if you’re one of those generally well-informed individuals) you may already know what that name is…

    Pat, I’ll take an ampersand…

    Technically, no one on Wheel of Fortune ever buys an ampersand…it’s a given.

    Now, for the second question: Do you know why it’s called ampersand?

    No, not because some printer by the name of Amper invented it (it’s not Amper’s and, although that explanation does sound plausible). And that brings us to the crux of this article.

    In fact, its name has a lot to do with how spoken words are heard and/or misheard…it’s a mondegreen.

    Say what?

    Yes, the word ampersand is a mondegreen! Here’s Merriam-Websteren’s entry for ampersand:

    noun am·per·sand \ ˈam-pər-ˌsand \ :  a character typically & standing for the word and

    Despite appearances, the history of ampersand owes nothing to amp or sand. The familiar character & derives from a symbol that was used in place of the Latin word et, which also means “and.” In the late Middle Ages, single letters used as words-words like I-were, when spelled, incorporated into a phrase that clarified that they were in fact individual words. For I the phrase was I per se, I, which in Latin means I by itself (is the word) I. In early lists of the alphabet, Z was followed by the symbol &, which was rendered & per se, and, meaning “& by itself (is the word) and.” Over the years, that phrase (which when spoken aloud was pronounced “and per se and”) was shortened by English speakers to ampersand. (https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/ampersand)

    When you think about the way modern-day school children recite the English alphabet, this makes perfect sense. Remember how you used to turn the innocent letters L-M-N-O-P into the inscrutable word elemenopea? In a similar way, over time, the slurred-together spoken phrase “and per se, and” became a word unto itself, ampersand. Aren’t words the best?

  • My Favorite Movies…about writers

    Vintage writer’s desktop with typewriter and flying sheets, creativity and inspiration concept

    So, my literary kitty, Lily, already blogged about her love of movies, just one of the many things we have in common.

    Today, I thought I’d share a list of my favorite movies about writers. There’s no shortage of movies about writers, probably because movies are written by writers and we tend to think that we are a fascinating bunch whose lives must be chronicled.

    So, without further ado…

    1. To Walk Invisible

    The remarkable story of the Brontë sisters’ path to publishing. Take courage, indie authors.

    2. Romancing the Stone

    This movie was a childhood favorite and was also on Lily’s list. Hopeful romantic, romance novelist, Joan Wilder is thrust into a scenario that may well be taken from the pages of one of her novels…it’s art imitating life imitating art…who says movies about writers must be boring?

    3. Saving Mr. Banks

    I love this movie—even though ironically, I’ve never been a Mary Poppins fan (sorry Mrs. Travers!)—because it has one of my favorite lines explaining what we as writers do. Tom Hanks, as Walt Disney says: “George Banks and all he stands for will be saved. Maybe not in life, but in imagination. Because that’s what we storytellers do. We restore order with imagination. We instill hope again and again and again.” Word!

    4. Miss Potter

    This biopic about Beatrix Potter is inspiration for writers to believe in their work. Go against the establishment, self-publish (sort of), and draw amazing pictures of impossibly cute woodland animals with adorable names like Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail.

    5. Jane Austen Regrets

    I think this choice is fairly self-explanatory, if you’ve read any of my previous posts. If not, let’s just say, I’m fairly obsessed with Jane Austen.

    6. You’ve Got Mail

    I will be blogging about this more in the future (as in, somewhere down the road, not in the far off, dystopian sense of the word). I love this movie so much that it deserves its own post. It’s about writers, books, children’s books, and bookstores…and bookstore owners. And it has Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan who are my favorite Rom-Com duo, possibly after Doris Day and, say…anyone.

    7. Throw Momma from the Train

    I had to re-visit this movie. It’s the one that got everything started for me. And it’s the second movie on this list that has Danny DeVito in its cast.

    8. Breakfast at Tiffany’s

    I’ll admit that this movie has some glaring flaws and missteps that I am willing to forgive (for instances, the whole Mickey Rooney character). But despite its flaws, I fell in love with this movie. The writer in this one is George Peppard, who plays Holly’s ultimate love interest, Paul Varjak (“That’s V-A-R-J-A-K.”)

    9. Genius

    A fascinating movie about the creative process that gives us a peek into what that looks like for the editor. It chronicles the relationship between writer, Thomas Wolfe and editor, Maxwell Perkins, two very different men, one with a genius for writing, another with a genius for friendship.

    10. Finding Neverland

    I like this beautifully filmed movie for its dreamy quality. It’s the story of how J.M. Barrie befriends a family of young boys who inspires him to write Peter Pan, and who just so happens to be related to Daphne du Maurier, author of a little book called Rebecca, among other things.

  • Whatchamacallit…Part One

    Whatchamacallit…Part One

    Meerkat Misidentified

    I’m somewhat ashamed to admit that the first time I ever saw a meerkat was in The Lion King. Shocking…but true.

    Suricate family standing in the early morning sun looking for po
    What’s this called?

    In fact, the first time I saw The Lion King I had no idea what Timon was. Embarrassingly enough, I thought he was a poorly executed rat, but then someone kindly explained to me that he was a meerkat. And at first, I thought they were saying he was just a cat, or simply a cat, but then they patiently explained that there is an entire species of animals called meerkats that are not related to cats…or rats, but to mongooses, which I was familiar with because of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi. So having that all cleared up, I still didn’t exactly appreciate meerkats because the cartoon version still resembled a rat that walked around on its hind legs (as cartoon mammals are prone to do regardless of how they get around in real life, e.g., Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, Bugs, and Remy from Ratatouille, to name but a few), and because the name still sounded to me like someone was trying to disparage my beloved cats, the way someone might dismiss another’s suitability, saying, “He’s a mere child…”

    Then I saw a nature show on PBS about meerkats and I realized that they are much cuter and much more charming in the flesh. Unfortunately, this program was about a family of these endearing little critters who were on a collision course with destiny, in the form of (1). a famine (gasp), (2). the debilitating effects of inbreeding (wait…what?), (3). lions (boo), and (4). jackals (hiss). I cried…and wondered how it was that people who make these nature documentaries can sit there filming while living creatures are being brutalized right in front of them…and now, with the advent of camera phones, it all begins to make sense…

    Getting Closer to the Point

    But I’m not here to talk about what an adorable little, upright, ground-dwelling animal is called. I’m here to talk about what a group of adorable little, upright, ground-dwelling animals is called.

    And that leads me to the real, actual purpose of today’s post. Do you ever wonder about the specific name for a certain animal group?

    Two common, slightly generic group designations are herd or flock, as in a herd of cattle, giraffes, zebras, antelopes, elephants, etc… or a flock of sheep, goats, ducks (birds, in general), camels, etc.  It’s also interesting to note that these words also refer to the action of gathering animals or people together (as in Corgis were bred to herd cattle) or to the action of animals or people moving together as a group (as in They flocked to the Apple Store to buy the latest iPhone).

    A few more common group designations are school, pride, and pod. Who hasn’t heard of a school of fish or a pride of lions? And the term pod can refer to groups of sea mammals, like seals, walruses, and whales, and even to sea-faring birds, like pelicans.

    But some group designations are slightly more obscure. Which brings me back to the aforementioned meerkats. A recent trip to the zoo revealed that a group of meerkats is called a mob. Who knew? Not to be mistaken for a flash mob, but rather a mere mob (so don’t go envisioning a planned spontaneous assemblage of meerkats getting down to Rachel Platten’s Stand by You. That would be cute…but it’s not going to happen).

    Some group designations are fun and alliterative like a gaggle of geese, the aforementioned mob of meerkats, or the aptly named pandemonium of parrots. And if you’ve ever seen a flock of wild parrots, then you know exactly what I mean! Other group designations conjure up pretty amazing mental images: an army of frogs, a flutter of butterflies, a gang of elks (“…if they say blades, I say blades. If they say guns, I say guns…”). Or how about this one that we may have learned from Sting’s All This Time, which memorably mentions a murder of crows, leading me to wonder, who comes up with these words?!

    Ah…words. Gotta love ’em…or at any rate, use ’em!

    Happy writing!

  • A Horse is a Horse (of course, of course)

    OA1OXX06

    As a writer, I love a good turn of phrase. Or as Jason Mraz says (sings), “I’m all about them words.” I am too. All about them. Words.

    As a person, I love horses. I’ve loved them since my big sister brought home the Billy and Blaze books from the school library when she was in first grade. I’ve never ridden a horse. I’ve never actually spent much time around them. In fact, the one time I had the opportunity, I chickened out because the horse was big and had teeth and I was only five. I stood by the sidelines and watched my dad take a turn around the corral. I wish I had been braver, but if wishes were horses…

    I find it curious that there are so many figures of speech, proverbs, similes, metaphors, etc. that involve horses, but hold your horses, I’ll get to that in a minute.

    Wild horses won’t drag it from me

    I remember reading this phrase in Anne of Green Gables and falling in love with it. It’s dramatic, noble and at the same time, full of romanticism, this idea that you could keep a confidence despite the temptation to blab.

    Wild horses make me think of the untamed West and the line from Oklahoma that says about cowboys, “they ride for days on end with just a pony for a friend…” I love the idea of wild horses as found in books like Misty of Chincoteague and the My Friend Flicka books—wild, beautiful and free.

    Of course, when I think of wild horses in connection with dragging, I must admit that the idea of drawing and quartering tends to pop into my mind, but I quickly dismiss it because, well, that whole notion is just gruesome. Still, the idea of someone having the mental stamina, courage, bravery, and strength of character to not give up a confidence despite the threat of bodily harm is inspiring.

    If wishes were horses beggars would ride

    This phrase makes me think of what I like to think were simpler, more innocent times. I supposed there’s no way of knowing whether or not bygone times really were simpler, no real way to compare without access to a time machine…and time machines only exist in books and movies, right? Right? But it makes me feel good to think times were simpler and better when people rode horses.

    I like the idea that a mode of transportation could be loyal to you. Cars certainly are not loyal; they break down and giveOA1PXX07 out at the most inopportune moments—on freeways, for example—leaving you stranded and having to call a tow truck and pay a mechanic potentially terrifying amounts of money to get them fixed. While it is true that horses had the tendency to die (when they got old or when they were shot because they broke their leg), at least, in books and movies, they did so heroically, after fighting the odds.

    Another reason I like this expression so much is it takes me back to the magic of childhood when you believed in the possibility of being granted wishes…like in the case of Aladdin or even in the Biblical tale of King Solomon, who was wise enough to ask for more wisdom which enabled him to…well, let’s just say it was a very clever way of wishing for more wishes.

     More horsin’ around

    Here are a few more expressions and/or figures of speech featuring horses:

    • A horse of a different color – made famous by The Wizard of Oz
    • Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth – (unless you happen to live in Troy and receive a mysterious giant one!)
    • All the king’s horses and all the king’s men – from Humpty Dumpty fame
    • You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink
    • Get off your high horse
    • Eat like a horse
    • Beat a dead horse

    Now I’m going to change horses midstream and list some of my favorite childhood books about horses. Feel free to chime in with your favorites. I’m open to suggestions and I’m not above reading children’s literature as an adult.

    1. My Friend Flicka
    2. Thunderhead
    3. Green Grass of Wyoming
    4. The Black Stallion
    5. Black Beauty
    6. Misty of Chincoteague
    7. Billy and Blaze
    8. The Absolutely Perfect Horse
    9. The Little House Books
    10. (YOUR CHOICE)
  • Top 5 Botched Proposals

    Top 5 Botched Proposals

    You don’t know love when you see it. You’ve tricked something out with your imagination that you think love, and you expect the real thing to look like that.

    Anne of the Island

    I have a book (Maxwell Parker, Love Doctor) that is coming out this month. How’s that for a plug?

    It’s the second book in the Maxwell ParkMaxwell Parker Love Doctor 3-Der Chronicles, a series for young readers starring my irrepressible heroine, Maxwell Parker, who sees herself as an amateur detective. However, in the second installment, she’s not sniffing out crime, she’s sniffing out love. It’s a natural progression.

    The course of true love never did run smooth. . .

    Love always seems to start off as a bit of a mystery for many of our favorite couples in literature. We seem to love the intrigue. Perhaps it gives us hope to see that so many of the great love stories didn’t start off so great after all. There were false starts, foul-ups, misunderstandings…and poorly executed proposals, yet they always (almost always) end up in a happy ever after. On the way there, we need the conflict and the tension.

    Today, I thought I’d focus on how so many of my favorite period pieces involve love gone wrong, proposals gone south, and hapless gentlemen in cravats mistakenly thinking—assuming—that their offer of marriage will be accepted simply because it was offered (and we all know what happens when you assume). While many women back in the day were grateful for and eagerly accepted any offer that came along (usually the first…Charlotte Lucas comes to mind), some of our favorite ladies in literature decided to make their men grovel just a bit longer and ultimately come back with an offer that was a bit more earnest, a tad less entitled, with all of the arrogant assumptions pitched out of the window.

    In honor of my upcoming love-themed book, I’ve composed a list of a few of my favorite botched proposals and awkward refusals from a few of my favorite movies:

    1. North and South

    Margaret Hale’s first shot at love comes in the form of Henry Lennox, a well-connected lawyer. He lazily assumes that she is fishing for a proposal of marriage, because she mentions the word wedding in his presence. He is overly confident that she, the daughter of a poor parson, will jump at the chance to be his wife. Margaret is fiercely independent and has to set him straight and send him packing.North and South

    Next she attracts the attention of the wealthy mill owner, John Thornton. He proposes to her, also confident that she will jump at the chance to improve her financial situation. She has to assure him that his ungentlemanly behavior has not impressed her. She also states that she has not yet learned how to graciously turn down proposals, and he quips back with, Oh… so I guess I’m not the first man whose heart you’ve had the privilege of breaking (or something to that effect).  When it comes to biting sarcasm, John Thornton and Elizabeth Hale are on equal footing.

    After Mr. Thornton, Mr. Bell, a friend of her father, admits that he’s interested in her as a wife/companion/nurse. As attractive as that particular offer may be, Margaret is able to graciously spurn his advances as well. She’s learning.

    And finally, John Thornton gets it right. Margaret meets him halfway, and the movie ends the way we all knew it was destined to end the first time our two leads had their first encounter.

    1. Pride and Prejudice

    First, poor Elizabeth Bennet has to deal with the ridiculous Mr. Collins’ offer, which included some very flattering reasons he has decided to enter into matrimony (to set the right example and as a way to kiss up to hisPride and Prejudice boss), a bribe (if you marry me, I won’t turn you and your mother and sisters out on your ears when your daddy dies and I inherit your estate), and a thinly veiled insult (I wanted to marry your prettier older sister but a little bird told me she’s already spoken for).

    Then she has to face Mr. Darcy’s quite rude admission: I find you and your family disgustingly beneath me, yet I have been hypnotized by your eyes. I love you in spite of myself. Please, put me out of my misery. That Darcy sure did know how to sweet-talk a girl. He should have just carried a miniature painting of his estate in his coat pocket.

    Being a self-respecting regency woman, Elizabeth had to turn this tempting offer down, and she did so in style. Darcy was chastened—to say the least—and later returns with a much more satisfying proposal, one that was worthy of the woman he was wooing.

    1. Little Women

    How could Teddy (Laurie) have been so blind? How did he not pick up on any of the many signals that Jo tried to send that she was not looking for a proposal? She never wanted to move him out of the friend category. Why did he think he could change her mind?

    Here’s is a hint for wannabe suitors: When the girl says, “No, Teddy, please don’t,” now is not the time to stubbornLittle Womenly plow ahead. Now is the time to regroup and reassess the relationship.

    Also, using the line “Everyone’s expecting it” generally never works because she will then counter it with the reasonable-sounding, “Then we’d be doing it for all the wrong reasons.” And there’s no way you can answer that.

    You have to give Laurie an A for effort, though. His failed proposal and subsequent heartbreak is one of the most touching moments in all love stories.

    On a side note, does anyone else love that Laurie grew up to be Batman? (Or am I confusing real-life with fiction again? Oh well, it happens).

    1. Far From the Madding Crowd

    Shepherd Gabriel Oak’s first clumsy attempt to court Bathsheba Everdene was something of a “Me, Tarzan…you, Jane,” caveFar From the Madding Crowdman approach. Although, I have to say, I sort of melted at the sight of the baby lamb and when he said, “I love you far more than common!” I mean, come on…who says that?

    Over time, he learns to refine his approach and Bathsheba learns to genuinely love him, and somehow I feel that their relationship, more than any other in literature, is one that is based on mutual affection and respect. (Never mind the fact that between Gabriel Oak’s first and final proposal, Bathsheba mischievously toys with the affections of a middle-aged bachelor gentleman farmer who lives nearby and drives him to the point of homicidal mania or that she succumbs to the advances of a gold-digging, pretty boy, love child of a noble and almost loses her fortune to him!) The salient point is that in the end, things worked out for Bathsheba and Gabriel.

    1. Anne of Avonlea (Anne, the Sequel)

    Like Laurie, Gilbert misread all of the signs and projected his feelings on to Anne. Sort of. The truth was, Anne did love Gilbert, but she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself just yet. His profession of love was premature, her protestaAnne of Avonleation against love was as ridiculous as it was futile.

    Anne goes on to attract the attention (in the movie…not the book) of a rich widower, Morgan Harris, who gives Anne the proposal of her dreams, forcing her to wake up and smell the wholesome sea air and realize that she’s meant to stay in Avonlea and live blithe-fully ever after with Gilbert.

    Fortunately for them (and for us), Gilbert got what alluded Laurie: a second chance and, for him, the second time was the charm.

    In the Anne books, Anne is subjected to a whole series of proposals gone wrong from all manner and form of suitor (suitable and otherwise), which leaves us amused and her traumatized and primed for Gilbert’s second, final, and ultimately successful attempt. And Anne learns something we all do well to remember:

    “Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.”

    Lucy Maud Montgomery

  • A Caterpillar’s Life

    A Caterpillar’s Life

    While watching Frozen Planet, I was introduced to a creature known as the woolly bear caterpillar. Woolly bear caterpillars have become my new favorite insect, replacing my former childhood favorite, the lady bug. Mind you, I still think lady bugs are cute, but the woolly bear caterpillar has a lot going for it starting with (but not limited to) an extremely cute name. Eventually, it turns into a quite spectacular moth, which is perhaps not as overtly glamorous as a butterfly, but few things in nature are. Butterflies are in a class unto themselves. People chase them. They collect them. They make up cool philosophical sayings about them, such as this affirmation commonly found on motivational posters and wall art:butterfly quote

    I have many fond memories of chasing ever elusive butterflies the way people tend to chase dreams or happiness. My memories of moths are of finding them burned to a crisp inside an outdoor light fixture and pitying their fatal attraction so, needless to say, I never imagined that the life cycle of a moth could be in any way motivational. Then I met the woolly bear caterpillar.

    Life Lessons From the Woolly Bear Caterpillar
    Woolly bear caterpillar
    Closeup of woolly bear caterpillar

    The woolly bear caterpillar starts life as a rather cute, furry little creature with a voracious appetite for leaves (thankfully, not wool coats). During the spring and summer months it eats as much and as fast as it can, in a valiant attempt to store up enough reserves to fulfill his destiny of becoming a moth. Metamorphosis apparently takes a lot of energy. Alas, the woolly bear caterpillar is not successful on his first attempt. When fall comes, he slows down and, with the onset of winter, comes to a complete stop—his heart stops, his breathing stops, and his body freezes. The caterpillar produces a kind of antifreeze that prevents his body from crystallizing as it freezes, otherwise he would freeze to death.

    Spring comes. The caterpillar thaws and begins eating again. But once again, he doesn’t have enough time to gather the required reserves before the freeze sets in, so he waits out the winter in a frozen state. This happens again and again…and again…

    Finally, one spring when the caterpillar is fourteen years old—the last spring of his life—he reaches his goal. After fourteen years of preparation, he has finally eaten enough and is ready to spin his cocoon. After a fashion, he emerges from the cocoon as a beautiful moth, finds a mate and lives happily ever after (as happily ever after as is possible for a moth, anyway). I watched the woolly bear caterpillar’s inspiring story and found myself routing for the little guy. (“Come on, Little Caterpillar. Eat. Eat faster. Winter’s coming. You can do it. Don’t give up.”)

    It made for good television: there was tension/drama, there was a villain, and our hero triumphed against the odds. Plus, there were life lessons, especially for aspiring writers.  The woolly bear caterpillar did several things that made him successful, and following his example can help us reach our writing goals.

    The woolly bear caterpillar:
    1. Continued to work at his craft.
    2. Took advantage of favorable seasons and did what he could when he could.
    3. Was not discouraged by minor setbacks that were beyond his control.
    4. Didn’t allow a period of inactivity to result in death.
    5. Was in a position to take advantage of the right conditions when they prevailed and, as a result, he thrived.

    As writers, we must have determination and a good work ethic. Sometimes we can create opportunities, but we often have to wait for the right conditions. The waiting period—the time between working toward a goal and realizing that goal—might feel like death. The trick is to develop a figurative elixir (coping mechanisms) that will protect us from succumbing to the deep freeze of discouragement. When preparation and favorable conditions meet, the results will be magic.

    In the end, diligence and persistence will pay off—just ask the woolly bear caterpillar. He prepared and waited fourteen years for his shining moment. The lesson? Never give up.

  • Top 10 Meaningless Expressions

    As writers, we try to put down on paper exactly what we mean to say. The goal, generally, is clear, concise communication. When it comes to verbal communication, we’re often not as fastidious, sometimes preferring to say everything besides what we mean to say. In honor of that tendency, I’ve compiled a list of ten meaningless expressions that I’m sure we’ve all been guilty of hiding behind at one time or another. If your goal is clear, concise communication, avoid these like the plague. However, if your intention is verbal subterfuge, this one’s for you…

    1. We’re sorry for/We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.

    I find that this is a statement commonly used by people, businesses, or organizations whose lack of competence, planning, etc. is currently inconveniencing their customers and they typically could care less and plan to do nothing to eliminate similar blunders in the future.

    1. Thank you for your patience.

    Just so you know (see #4), this is not an admission of fault, but a general acknowledgement of the public’s patience, generally at a time when the public has no choice but to be patient (i.e., when something we are waiting for and have paid for is (1) late, (2) cancelled, or (3) not coming). Rather than thanking us for our patience, how about stop trying it.

    1. Sorry if I offended you.

    This is a poor excuse for an apology. Apologies should be specific and sincere. They should not resemble the line in that Take That song: “Whatever I did, whatever I said, I didn’t mean it….” Not good enough. I’m sorry, you should know what you did and apologize for that and keep your smug statements to yourself.

    1. Just so you know…

    This phrase tries to pass itself off as a harmless FYI, but it is usually delivered with the nastiness of a smack down (I’m not sure why). It’s usually not a news bulletin that follows, but a rude instruction.

    1. This isn’t going to hurt.

    Commonly told to small children just before they are stabbed with a needle. It is never true. They never tell adults it isn’t going hurt, because this lie works exactly once.

    1. This will only hurt a little.

    Any poke, prick, stab with a needle hurts. And pain is relative. The way I like to measure it is how I felt before being jabbed versus how I feel after being jabbed. Pain level before jab=0. Pain level after jab=10. There’s no such thing, in my book, as hurting a little.

    1. It’s not right for our list, but maybe another publisher will feel differently.

    I think I’ve address this one in a previous post (or here).

    1. It’s not you, it’s me.

    This should be fairly self-explanatory, but just in case it isn’t, allow me to assure you, it is you. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be right for someone else…

    1. Please don’t take this the wrong way…

    This means there isn’t going to be a right way to take it…What follows is going to smart. Sorry.

    1. I’m not trying to be nosy, but…

    I think people think this makes their insolence cute. Sort of like when Lady Rosamund told the Dowager on Downton Abbey: “I’m afraid you’ve read somewhere that rudeness in old age is amusing. And it’s quite wrong.” Actually the Dowager’s zingers are quite amusing. But being asked personal questions by a total stranger is slightly less so.

  • I Hate to Burst Your Bubble, But…

    Today, for some reason I was thinking about my all-time favorite rom-com, While You Were Sleeping, specifically the line towards the beginning where Lucy says about her father:

    He would get these far-off looks in his eyes and he would say ‘Life doesn’t always turn out the way you plan.’ I just wish I’d realized at the time, he was talking about my life.

    Ah, the bubble bursting moment. We’ve all had one. The moment of realization that (1) there is no such thing as a free lunch, (2) pie in the sky is merely an illusion, or (3) it is only a paper moon.

    I remember a friend telling me that she saw The Way We Were when she was eight years old and it ruined her life. I didn’t ask her what she meant, because I assumed I knew. I assumed she meant that before she saw The Way We Were she thought life (her life) would be peachy keen and she’d grow up and be happy for ever after. The Way We Were destroyed her faith in the happy ending. How could it not?

    My bubble was burst when I read Little Women. I was nine. I loved Jo and I loved Laurie. I loved LaurieJo. I thought they were THE PERFECT COUPLE. I, like Laurie, never understood Jo’s reluctanceLittle Women 2 to elevate their relationship from platonic best chums to a bona fide boy-girl thing. Jo’s refusing Laurie broke my heart into as many pieces as it broke his.

    I’ve tried to be mature and philosophical about it. I told myself that Jo and her mother were right, she and Laurie were too much alike, they would have made themselves miserable if they had been “so foolish as to marry.” But I didn’t agree with her decision then, and there’s a part of me (especially after reading Little Men) that still doesn’t. Jo and Laurie were undeniably best friends and, in my opinion, you should try your level best to marry your best friend, especially if he is as wonderful and as hopelessly devoted to you as Laurie was to Jo.

    Despite all of my trying to come to grips with a decision made by a fictional character (hum…maybe a little perspective is in order), the thing that finally helped me get over my deep and profound sadness that Jo didn’t marry Laurie, the thing that finally restored my bubble to its pre-bubble burst state was the movie Anne of Avonlea. The proposal scene in that film is—funnily enough—lifted right off the pages of Little Women instead being taken from the book (Anne of the Island) that it’s based on. I’m not sure why writer/director Kevin Sullivan opted to use Louisa May Alcott’s words instead of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s, but I am grateful because in an odd way, it provided me with needed closure.

    And by the way, have you ever noticed that when someone starts a sentence with the words, “I hate to…” they then proceed to gleefully do what they claimed to hate to have to do?

    More on that next time.

     

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