Good and Evil

I was reading a recent copy of Literary License, association publication for the Society of Midland Authors, when today's words, Good and Evil, jumped off the page and gave me goosebumps. I'll tell you why in a moment. First let me give you the context.

Robert Loerzel wrote that Marilyn Robinson, author of Gilead, a book I truly loved (I'm going to blog about that experience on my new GoodReads blog one of these days), recently "took part in a March 3 discussion on 'Literature and Evil'. The larger event, the Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference (strangely, I can't find 2012 info, which perhaps just isn't recapped yet?), was held in Chicago. Ten thousand people attended, Loerzel said. Somehow I missed the ginormous sold out conference was even taking place in my back yard until after it was over.

Yep, that's the way this author sometimes rolls. Oh, well ...

Loerzel said that the title of Robinson's event [Literature and Evil] "seemed to make her uneasy. What is evil? 'The greatest peril is in thinking that you know what it is,' Robinson said. 


'Too easily arrived-at definitions of good and evil do the work of the devil.'"

Whoa. Let me read that again!

I not only read it again, underlined it, put a star in the margin, and repeated it here, but I'm cutting it out and pasting it on the upper right-hand corner of my computer monitor. I might even photocopy the provocative line and put a copy in my wallet. I believe that is one of the deepest most profound and convicting truths I've read lately, especially when applied to ... just about any walk of life, and especially in this political climate.

I shall be holding my feet to the fire of that poignancy every time I make a snap decision, especially when I'm about to spout off on the good or evil of it--or him, or her, or "those people."

Think, Charlene. THINK! Maybe you are wrong.

Encouragement

I started pulling together this recent issue of the TwinkleGram back in February. I love writing TwinkleGrams, and yet, they are a task. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. When I don't get one done in a timely fashion, the "fun thing" weighs on me.

But life happened. FINDING OUR WAY HOME released. There were guest blog posts to write, radio interviews to blab, book stores to get to (still are). All the while, I just about melted down my Google Calendar by grabbing the TwinkleGram task and drop-and-dragging it forward (boy, that describes the emotional weight!) another day or two. Another day or two. Another day or two.

But finally--FINALLY--I finished the TwinkleGram, complete with survey and all. This after changing the original topic of Today's Message to The Joy in Second Chances because Hard Things came down in my extended family, and I write as a way to process. To file. To circle my wagons around hope.

Often, after finishing such a time-consuming task, I ask myself, Why do you bother, Charlene? Who really cares anyway. Nonetheless, two main goals were accomplished: 1) Writing Today's Message (the heart of the TwinkleGram, complete with a survey to help readers process the gist of the message in their own lives) and sharing news about the new book.

Then, like the small green shoots pushing Spring's compact crusty earth aside, something wonderful sprouted in my email INBOX. I received cheery notes from TwinkleGrammers who appreciated the message, spoke of its timeliness in their lives.

And there it was, today's word: Encouragement. This is why you "bother", Charlene, because encouragement is a circle. You pass it on, and somehow it returns twofold, energized to spin forth again.


I don't mean to suggest we encourage so that we can be encouraged, for where would the genuine giving be in that? But offering encouragement seems to spawn a magical cycle of begetting. More encouragement begets more encouragement. Pay it forward. Pass on the feel-good. Who else needs a lift?

When you encourage someone, next thing you know, YOU have more energy and your burdens seem lighter. Neat-o.


It's always fun for me to check the survey results, see how people are processing. So many of the TwinkleGrammers post fun pithy answers that make me laugh out loud--yet more surprise payback for my investment. But this more serious message inspired people to think on their past, how they process it. How often do we look back, consider where we've come from, what we've survived? Some of their answers tugged at my heart.


Fueled by the encouragement of thank-you emails (thanking me for my encouragement in the TwinkleGram) I felt especially "right" about personally encouraging two survey respondents whose hearts seemed heavy. Although I've never sent e-cards to people I don't know, today I did.

Encouragement. Think it. Live it. Give it. Pass it on. Catch it when it returns. Fling it out again. 

Who doesn't need a good dose of ENCOURAGEMENT.

Buffering (spinning icon) Buffering (spinning icon)

Buffering, the dreaded word, or sometimes just an animated symbol, one that tried to hypnotize me a few times this week. (You will watch the twirling icon. You are getting sleepy ...)

I don't usually see this word on my Big Boy computer. But my traveling laptop, which I've been attached to for a couple weeks, and which is now kinda old and lacking today's zippety-do-dah, likes to hurl this one at me.

Buffering. I had a general idea what the word meant: My machine is taking time (taking IT'S TIME!) to "get something" before it happens. When I looked up the definition, I laughed out loud. I laughed because, I'm told,

Buffering means that your device is downloading a video in advance to avoid delays in playback. I noticed in another definition, the word "hopefully" was tactfully applied.

HAHAHAHAHAHA! Avoid delays! BWA-HAHAHAHAHA! Because here's the deal: when things are not as zippety-do-dah as they should be, one buffering delay seems to beget another. Sometimes I only see a few words (okay, maybe a word and a half) before there is a LONG DELAY to BUFFER AGAIN.

When I'm in a hurry, this whole buffering thing is tormenting. When I'm just dinking around on YouTube, the freeze-frames during the buffering can be quite entertaining. Who knew mouths do those types of gymnastics midst their words?!

(pause while Charlene freaks out) 

As a speaker, I just gave myself chills. I've been video taped on many occasions. I've even uploaded a few "fascinating" videos to my own YouTube channel. (Charlene pauses again, prays about HER buffering increments should any of you take a watch.)

The more I think about buffering (see spinning icon while fingers pause before more typing), the more relatable the concept. At my age (spin), my brain seems fond of buffering. Like when I'm trying to remember a name (whiirrrrrrrrr), or what I was going to say (spin, spin, spin), or when I'm taking a moment to stop myself from saying that! (DANG! Not enough buffering!)

And (slight pause), there you have it. Today's lesson from and for Charlene on buffering.

On Clubbing Books (you know what I mean)

While reading the local paper I saw a brief notice that the Winona Public Library Monthly Adult Book Club would meet while I was in town. As an author, I've "attended" conference calls and Skype-ins while my books were clubbed (well, you know what I mean), but never have I been able to attend a book club meeting from the readers' side of the discussion. I'm filled with envy when I hear my friends talk about their book clubs, but it just never works out.

Although I'd never heard of the title mentioned in the newspaper spot, I picked up the phone and called a local book store to see if they had a copy. Yes, a used one. Perfect. Within a couple hours, I'd made my purchase and settled into my lounge chair, feet up, iced tea nearby, determined to finish the book by the time of the meeting, a mere five days away. Considering I had my own book releasing a few days afterward, and the fact that I'm a slow reader, this would be no small accomplishment. My PR machine was cranking. It was all I could do to keep up with it. Nonetheless, I was--still am (not done reading it yet, and the meeting is tomorrow afternoon) dedicated to this task.

I was hoping I liked the book, because if I didn't--and especially since I had my own book coming out--I didn't wish to take part in a discussion just to blast it. After all, an author wrote that book too, and we can be sensitive. :)

Then I read the first line of The Rich Part of Life by Jim Kokoris.

The day we won the lottery I was wearing wax lips that my father had bought for the Nose Picker and me at a truck stop.


After one line, I already loved the storyteller and the mood. Wax lips. Calling your sibling a Nose Picker. Truck stops. Random wealth. Genius to me, because they're all elements--words with images--I find either fun (wax lips), can remember myself (sibling names) or invokers of warm memories (truck stops and my father.) By the time I got to page 206, I loved the story even more. Quirky characters always float my boat. I hope to find time to get to page 327, The End, by tomorrow's meeting.

But if I can't finish the book, my dilemma will be agonizing: Of course I'll want to go, I think. Hey, it'll be my first book club meeting! I'll be anxious to hear how others enjoyed, or not, the storytelling--the story. But what if they give the ending away, and I imagine they surely will. I assume satisfactory endings is a part of book club discussions, right?

To those of you who are used to clubbing books (I'll know what you mean), please weigh in here. If I don't finish, should I go? HELP A NEWBIE CLUBBER (well, maybe) OUT!

Seeking Perspective

My eldest grandgirlie is Star of the Week in her first-grade class. It's quite the honor which offers her, as well as any student whose turn it is, the opportunity for lots of cool things, like bringing special show and tell. She invited me to come read a book to her classmates, a humbling honor, which I gladly and gratefully accepted.

I asked her to pick out the book, but she already had one in mind. It's a book I keep at my house, a book purchased at Paperbacks and Pieces, my favorite used book store of all times. Barely a visit goes by when the girls don't ask me to read The Piggy in the Puddle.

The class loved hearing it as much as I love--every single time I read it--the way the illiterative language (nice, eh?) rolls off my tongue.

But before I was up on the docket, and while the teacher gently and with great patience and humor put the kids through their morning routine, I walked around the room and absorbed the creative energies.

Profound Perspective 

How profound are those words?! I got out my camera and snapped a photo. What if every single day we asked ourselves to define those three short lines using a single word.

• Yesterday was ... busy. That's one way to put it.
• Today is ... grace filled. I'm here with my grandgirlie!
• Tomorrow will be ... Hm...Pleasurable. 

It is good, I thought, to find kindness and perspective, to filter our mental filing, and set a tone for the future of positivism. To be honest, it was a deeply profound interior moment for me.

It wasn't until later I noticed the days of the week beneath the lines. I only noticed them then because the teacher asked one of the children to come correctly place the days of the week next to the lines.

Perspective: through a teacher's creative spark, a child's learning curve, and an aging woman's goals.

Perspective.

Tricky Truths

‎"A scientific truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die and a new generation grows up that is familiar with it." -- Max Planck

My dear friend Donna posted this quote on her Facebook page yesterday. First I laughed. Then the too-often dark sorrow of that sad truth set in.

In reality, Planck, most famous for his work on the quantum theory, could have been talking about the publishing industry too. Historically, it is not uncommon for an author’s work to be seriously undervalued, or even noticed, for a generation or three.

• Why is that? 
• Does it have anything to do with quantum physics? 
• What makes someone’s words more potent when they can no longer generate new ones? 
• Will my books be more popular when everyone reading this, including the one writing it, is dead? 

Gheesh. Happy Fat Tuesday, Charlene!

Just when this dreary spiral of thoughts was about to sink my usual optimism, I Googled Mr. Planck and found an entire page of his Brainy Quotes. When I got to the following, I cheered. 

  

Anybody who has been seriously engaged in scientific work of any kind [and here Charlene adds, or WRITING] realizes that over the entrance to the gates of the temple of science [keyboards] are written the words: 'Ye must have faith.'

Sign made. Mood bolstered. Writing. I'm ALIVE, and these here blog words LIVE! All I can really control is the moment. I'll be dead a long time, so whatever with thoughts of immortal famousness.

HAPPY FAT TUESDAY everyone, although I will also welcome what is hopefully a skinnier Thursday.

A Word I Cannot Tame

My entire life, I cannot remember how to spell the word desperation. In fact, within the last five minutes, I spelled it incorrectly elsewhere, which triggered me to blog about it. Perhaps with some concentrated effort, I can correct this problem with my memory chip.

ADMISSION: My first attempt to use the word desperation in this blog post, I spelled it incorrectly too--and always incorrectly the same way. I have no idea what this means, but I'm thinking something!

Okay, I took a short pause after that last paragraph to look up the meaning of the word, to further explain how desperate [Keep typing it, Charlene, for that repetitive learning curve] I am to get it right. I had no idea a synonym for the word desperate is despair.

Great, so now I've learned I don't even use the word correctly! WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN? I often feel desperate, but almost never, ever, never despairing, which feels like a totally different thing to me.

For instance, if I'm desperate (GADS! I just had to correct that spelling--and I am not making that up!) to get somewhere on time, I don't feel despairing. Just acutely concerned, clinging by my fingernails, plowing full bore. Know what I mean? That doesn't feel like despair to me, which I thought meant hopeless, as in facing the reality that whatever you're trying to accomplish is not going to happen. There is no longer hope. Not desperate [OMY, Charlene! Not another correction!], which I thought meant frenzied, back-against-the-wall, but still hopeful, still possible, likely achievable through a frenzied attack.

Anyone else like me have this wrong in their heads?

But now the worst part is this: since learning I not only spell incorrectly, but don't know jack, I now DO feel on the very verge of despair. Will I always be this lacking???

Stupid words.
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For your inquiring minds, here is the way I always spell desperation (or desperate) before I am corrected. Desparation. Anyone else? ANYONE?

A brilliant Top 10: Autism & Seniors

I had breakfast this morning with writer, blogger and author  Lynn Hudoba. It's the first time we've met. I discovered Lynn's magnificent Voice several months ago when I read one of her brilliant columns in a daily Patch email for my local area. I loved the piece so much, I left a comment. Several months later, I caught her Voice again. This time, I didn't leave a comment, I tracked her down. I wanted to do everything I could to encourage the fresh Voice that really got my attention.

Lynn has a unique and captivating humor to her writing, even though she's talking about a very serious topic. (Words that make a difference!) Her daughter Audrey is autistic.  Whether you're dealing with a child with special needs, or any issue in your life, who doesn't need to laugh? Although autism isn't close to my personal realm of experience, her Voice and wisdom speak well beyond her topic.

While we were eating and chatting (and changing tables FIVE TIMES in Panera Bread--and I am not making that up--because no matter where we moved, the sun was in one of our eyes), I caught several relatable similarities in stories about her daughter, and stories about little old me. When I mentioned that, she said she'd already blogged a Top Ten list on the relationship between children with autism and senior citizens. As she mentioned a few particulars, I laughed out loud. I think when you read her list, you will too.

I came home happier for having met her. I wish her the best. When someone writes funny words that matter, it's good for all of us.

Lynn's has a Kindle book available. Check it out! 

Misreads, Wrong Perceptions

I just read a lovely piece in Shelf Awareness about columnist and author Jeffrey Zaslow, who recently passed away in an automobile accident. Soon after notification of his death, I'd noticed the Twitter stream fill with kind words and expressions about how much his voice would be missed.

When I got to the second from the last paragraph in the article, there appeared a link referring to his expensive obituary in the New York Times. I clicked, read, felt the celebration of his life and the sorrow of his loss, added a couple of his titles to my to-be-read book list. It was clear that his shining words, which often focused on people searching for meaning in their lives, were worthy reads.

By the time I finished the article, and the info at each link, including the obituary--each affirming the power and effect of Mr. Zaslow's printed words, left behind as a testimony to his heart and talent--I realized my feathers were good and ruffled. Why would someone writing such a lovely tributary piece have the bad taste to mention the expense of an obituary! I looked again at the obit link, just to purse my lips, shake my head.

And there is was. The word wasn't EXPENSIVE, it was EXTENSIVE.

The power of words and meaning. A good reminder that all words, whether spoken, read or written, should be carefully considered.

The day I decided to launch this blog

I've been noodling around the Internet, "checking in" with my Facebook and Twitter friends, curious how long it's been since I posted a Traveling Laugh. Later today, I'm planning to begin work on a  TwinkleGram.

Is there no END to your social media blathering, Charlene?!

Yet, while flicking from one set of hosted words to the next, a thought niggles. Sometimes my brain ignites a MUST-SHARE! idea, question, quote or curiosity that does not quite "fit" any of my aforementioned stay-in-touch outlets, not even the books I write.

As I type this Words to Help You Twinkle blog intro, of sorts, I am reminding myself that I do not have time to start something new. Hel-LO, Charlene! Your estrogen powers are waning in this twilight season of your life. Nonetheless, here I happily go anyway, Pandora cranking in the background, launching this new endeavor. I can't stop thinking about WORDS. Words that make me twinkle with every layer of  definition.

Case in point. Earlier today I was reading a recent copy of Shelf Awareness. In it, I found an article called Wi7, which stands for Winter Institute 7: Social Media. In the second paragraph, I read about author John Green who wrote a book called The Fault in our Stars. Seems his book has been a  bestseller. My blinking (not quite twinkling) rapid-fire thoughts went something like this: Never heard of the guy. Never heard of the book. Why can't I keep up? How did I not notice a title with the word star in it? What is the book about anyway? I'll look it up later. And ... I'm on to the next paragraph, which is a recap about a guy named Dan Cullen who cites statistics from PEW Research. HAHAHAHA! PEW Research. As in P.U. pew-ey! As in ... that's juvenile, Charlene. You're 66. Snap out of it. Then I read where Cullen says that my demographic, whom he refers to as "wired seniors," is the fastest growing segment using social media. Wired senior, huh? As much social networking as I do, my nickname should be The Electrified Geezerette.


I finish reading that article and move on to the picture below it. I love pictures. The cutline explains who the dudes are, and it happens again! I learn of another book title which I've never heard of. Film School: The True Story of a Midwestern Family Man Who Went to the World's Most Famous Film School, Fell Flat on His Face, Had a Stroke, and Sold a Television Series to CBS, by Steve Boman. How much do I love THAT title? Lots. So I try to Tweet it, but it's too long. Even Deck.ly, TweetDeck's answer to Tweets longer than 140 characters, has a problem sending it. [Sidenote: While nabbing the link for TweetDeck, my home computer Tweeting choice, I learned TweetDeck is aimed at "power users". STAND BACK!]


If only you had your own blog, Charlene, you could talk about that book title there!


Next thing I know, I'm playing with Blogger templates and ... Here you go. Words to Help You Twinkle, blog post number one.
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END NOTES:

--I did look up this John Green chap. His interview (wait till you see who's conducting it!) on B&N made me laugh out loud.  I've now added The Fault of Stars to my reading list. Curious words beget searched words, beget another book on the pile. Amen.


--The PEW Research Center isn't funny. It's smart. I checked. You might wanna too.