Janus, the Two-faced God

Happy New Year, everyone!

 I'm delighted to be starting off the New Year blogging here at NYUS. Here's hoping you didn't overdo the celebration last night, but if you did overindulge, take heart: hangovers don't last forever, they only seem as if they do. Drink coffee and eat some spicy food (I recommend huevos rancheros) and you'll be back in the saddle in no time.

However, if you were foolish enough to make a New Year's resolution or two, I can't help you. Resolutions made on New Year's Eve rarely make it to Three Kings Day so either avoid them altogether, or make sure resolution is user friendly. A few years earlier, I resolved to drink my way through every local brewery in Gainesville, tasting every IPA, imperial stout or lager I could get my hands on. As it happens, our little town currently had three excellent craft breweries so I haven't yet hit my goal, but I intend to keep trying.

Apart from questionable resolutions or excessive partying, the New Year is a time to look where we've been and where we're going. Which is probably why the ancient Romans dedicated January to the two-headed god Janus, who simultaneously looks to the future and the past. So I'd like to kick off 2018 with a story from my own past.

Well, not a story, more like a memory.

It was Christmas Eve in Baltimore and I must have been five or six. Along with my other siblings, I was tucked into bed, no doubt dreaming of the loot Santa would bring. Deep in sleep, my mother's hands lifted me from the bed, quietly so as not to waken my little sister. Heavy with sleep, I clutched my mother like a monkey as as she carried me down the stairs where our empty stocking hung. At the front door, my mother set me down and threw open the door.

"Look," she whispered.

A burst of cold air and a swirl of white--snow!

It must have been snowing for hours as a blanket of glossy white had transformed our neighborhood of row houses into something strange and wondrous. Trees, cars, and houses covered in marshmallow fluff. And everything  so quiet, as if I were inside one of those snow globes--my very own silent night. And then my mother hefted me up like a sack of potatoes and returned me to my bed, where visions of snowflakes, not sugar plums, now danced in my head.

I don't recall any of the presents I received for Christmas that year, but I've treasured that memory for decades, and it was only much later that I fully appreciated my mother's gift. None of the other neighborhood mothers would have woken a sleeping child on Christmas Eve, just so she could see a snowfall. And my mother might have chosen one of my other siblings instead of me. But she didn't--she chose me.

 Oddly, I've never spoken of that night to anyone, not even my mother. Some things don't need words. And when Mom's heart stopped on a cold day in January, I thought of that faroff Christmas Eve and her gift to me.

Is there a moral to any of this? Well, I'll leave that to you. Right now, I have some black eyed peas to cook. Here in the South, we consider them good luck for the coming year.

The world could use a little luck.

 At this time of the rolling year, it's customary to extend wishes for a better year. The faithful offer prayers for better times and the secular their hopes. In the spirit of the season, I offer both, with the gentle reminder that thoughts, prayers and hopes don't amount to a hill of beans without action.

Now that's a resolution I could get behind--a resolution to work together to make the world a more just and kinder place.

Happy New Year!

A Year Without Television: A New Year's Resolution Fulfilled!

I fulfilled a New Year's resolution in 2014 that I am considering for 2018. In 2014, I vowed to spend twelve months without television. Betting and joking immediately ensued among family and friends on how long I'd last. I was addicted to crime sitcoms ["Castle," "Major Crimes," "CSI," "Elementary," "NCIS," "Law & Order SVU"] and fantasy ["Once Upon a Time," "Warehouse 13," "The Librarians"] and political thrillers ["Person of Interest," "House of Cards," "Covert Affairs"], well, you get the idea.

These twelve shows were not the only shows I watched. Add news. With a degree in journalism, being a news junkie is a given. Add movies. Add the occasional documentary and talent competition. I've watched absolute garbage after channel surfing because nothing else was on. Addiction and inertia held me captive.

"My wakeup call was reading a statistic from the Parents Television Council that children in America watch between four and eight hours of television a day." 

They spend more time staring at a blinking box than in school! No wonder America has an epidemic of overweight, undereducated children and teens. And what are they learning? Bad behavior from reality television shows and talk shows? Egad. Four to eight hours a day is enough time to master a second language or learn new hobbies and skills. Righteous indignation rose in me about this monumental waste of our most precious asset--time. I asked my daughter how much time my darling grandchildren spent in front of the television per day.

And then she asked me how much time I spent.

blink. blink. blink.

So 2015 was a test. A cure for my addiction. I wish I could tell you it was easy, that my iron willpower helped me stroll by the big-screen in the living room without temptation. I wish I could say with a straight face that hearing others talk about the shocking season finale of any of my favorite shows didn't knock the wind out of me. When book club pals asked if I was going to watch the new shows "Sherlock," "Bosch," or "Outlander" my resolve quavered dangerously on the edge of quitting this mad personal quest.

Spending a year without television allowed me to read 35 more books in 2015 than in the previous year. I traveled to: Charleston (SC), Jacksonville with my girl pals, San Juan, St. Kitts, St. Barts, Las Vegas, the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios, New York City, Naples (FL), and multiple trips to North Carolina.







In April, I worked as a stringer/reporter for General Aviation News at the SUN 'N FUN Fly-In. You can read my articles by clicking on GA News. It was a joy to combine my journalism training with my aviation hobby and get paid for it! What rewarding joy!



Handsome and I also learned gun safety and enjoyed target practice under the watchful eye of a friend from church who had served in the Marines. Getting off the sofa has been rewarding after all.
Perhaps many of you will also opt out of television viewing for a year.

Imagine all those mean political ads you'll miss...and the books you will have time to read. Ahem. My third book will be coming out in late spring. So expect to hear more about the book in the coming months. And, yes, it will be available in print for those readers who refuse to read on a tablet, like my mother and mother-in-law.



So let the bets be covered. I survived a year without television! Woot Woot. Okay, so I didn't learn another language or discover a cure for cancer, but I wrote more, played more, and spent more hours each day toward my lifelong goal of publishing novels.

Remember time is your most precious asset. Tell me, what would you do with four extra hours a day?

DISCOMBOBULATION

Many writers I know talk about resolutions, about the New Year being a New Start. They seem to be re-energized by the turning of the calendar page and the fresh year unrolling before them.

Me? Not so much. At least, not this year.

Not that I’ve ever been good at resolutions. I’d make one, and some perverse little part of me would start rubbing its hands in glee, looking for a way to sabotage it. I’ve learned not to make hard-and-fast resolutions, and to never, ever, write them down.

Still, I do have a rough idea of what I’d like to accomplish during the year, at least writing wise.

For one thing, I’d like to finish the two novels I’ve started in two separate series. I like both series, and the characters who live in them, and I really want to find out what happens to them.

I’m also part of several bundles coming up this year, for which I promised to write short stories. (Have you heard of BundleRabbit? Great bundler—check them out.) And I keep coming up with good ideas for more short stories. There’s lots of work to do.

So… why can’t I buckle down and do it? Life rolls.

An instructor used to call major life changes, life rolls. Something you couldn’t avoid that would have an impact on your writing. The life roll could be good or bad, but it resulted in you not producing the number of words you were used to.

A life roll can be anything from a death in the family, to a wedding, a new baby, or building a house.

My friend recently relocated to a wonderful community by the sea. For over six months, pre- and post-move, she did very little writing. Life roll.

So, here I am, flitting from partly-finished novel to partly-finished novel, stopping along the way to jot down ideas for other novels I’d like to write. I start writing one short story only to abandon it and start work on another.

It’s discombobulating, but there’s no point in panicking. I’m going through a transition time (see my last post). Eventually my mind will settle and I’ll get back to normal.

And when I do, watch for more book launches. J

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