What would you do?

I have this chunk of metal sitting on my desk with only the words “What would you do if you knew you could not fail?” engraved on it (much like the one pictured here). It’s a quote by Robert H. Schuller from the mid 1900s. The piece is solid, and its weight feels good in my hand. I sort of commandeered it during the chaos when the travel agency I worked for was sold and the work was shipped off to India. A lot of things were scavenged during that time of clean up and goodbyes. We just recently ran out of a case of packing tape and box of trash can liners, and the business has been closed down now for about four years… but I digress, as usual.

After my last post which asked, “What do you do when you’re alone?”, I started thinking about my hobbies. Reading, music, movies and now writing. Aren’t those the same hobbies as nearly everyone else in the world? I mean, who doesn’t like music and movies? Those aren’t hobbies, those are interests. I’m not quite sure what my hobbies are, so I made a short list of things I’d like to do or learn to do.

I’d like to:

• Learn to draw beautifully. (Six years of Industrial Design did nothing for my non-drafting skills.)
• Take a Photoshop class.
• Learn SCUBA diving.
• Participate in a creative writing seminar.
• Build a house. (I’ll always be an architect at heart.)
• Live in a Barnes & Noble with a coffee shop in back. ;)

Before even finishing the list, I realized learning is actually my hobby. Vague, maybe. Broad, yes. But it’s what I do when I have spare time. I read textbooks, I take classes, I search the web for answers. Even when I’m watching movies and listening to music I’m soaking in knowledge of time periods, character types and personalities, sound combinations, accents, hairstyles and clothes.

There is a constant stream of information that bombards us all the time, and there are several ways to deal with that onslaught. You can let it beat against you and stress you out, or you can welcome it and learn from it. Sure there are days when it’s too much, and we just can’t deal with it all. Hell, I recently had an entire week of that, but more often than not I not only welcome it, but I find myself looking for more. One piece of information prompts questions that need answers, and I search them out. That is my hobby.

Well, Sometimes I Sing a Little Song

Copyright 2006 FEGA (Photo taken by Norbert Puechl via stock.xchng)

I found myself at loose ends several weekends back. In between the huge dents I made in the mountains of work, I’d set aside some free time to write. I had been hoping to get into a fun bit of shared fiction. Alas, the rest of the world appeared to be spending that particular weekend away from their computers, and I’d written Lizzy into a spot where she was dependant on other characters’ actions. Hrm.

I looked around my desk at all the work I could be doing to get a leap on Monday morning. (Understand, we’d just spent the preceding two days working, which in the real world would be considered overtime, but when you own a business is just “clean-up”.) The last thing I wanted to do on a lazy Sunday morning was more work.

 Everyone else was still asleep, and I was sitting in front of my laptop with a cup of hot chai. At a loss, I started thinking, “What do I do when I’m alone?” (I can’t hear, think, say or even see that sentence without humming and singsonging to myself, “Well sometimes I sing a little song.“) It made me smile, and I ended up putting on the childhood records I still have here in my office. Yes, I still listen to them now and again, and I probably always will. Story records were a huge part of my growing up.

Living in the north and not being allowed to watch TV except for weekends or special occasions, I had to get creative with my entertainment options. Winters in particular were full of free time, because I could only handle so much time outside in the cold. Instead I spent most of my time in my bedroom reading and listening to records.

It started out with story records, the kind that narrated all the classic fairy tales and Disney stories. I’d spend hours listening to the tales of Pandora, Ali Baba and Sinbad. Later I moved on to Mum’s original cast Broadway musical albums, stories of a different kind, but still stories. I literally wore out Camelot and My Fair Lady, and now I don’t remember the words that should be there in the places where my records skip.

So I spent the morning listening to musical stories and relaxing. Apparently I relive my childhood when I’m alone. What do you do when you find yourself alone with nothing more pressing to do than sing yourself a little song? ;)

Just Writing

For as long as I can remember, I’ve collected books on writing. Books about Building Believable Characters and Character Traits. Books claiming to be The Pocket Muse or telling me what should be included in The First Five Pages. Even books that simply asked What If?

More recently I turned to online resources, and the best I found were actually sites about blogging and writing copy. I subscribed to several and started reading regularly. A handful survived the first month, and I still read them every day because they are truly inspiring… but reading them has done nothing for my writing. Or lack thereof.

Book by book and Bird by Bird I read and I read, but I seldom wrote. Oh, I wanted to write, but I thought I wasn’t good enough, didn’t know enough, wasn’t ready. When I did try my hand at writing, it was clunky and awkward, and I quickly got frustrated and went out and bought another book. No Plot? No Problem! Even Stephen King was lecturing me On Writing, and while it was all very inspiring, it didn’t help me write. I was frustrated. Writing, real writing, became just a joke between Mum and I. I was going to write, she would edit, and… then we’d both laugh because we knew it was never going to happen.

Then one Saturday morning I read a blog post. The post itself was good, but even better were the comments. Suddenly I found myself in the middle of a story, and I was refreshing the page every few minutes to see what happened next, and who would come up with what. Oh how I envied these people their witty dialog and creative descriptions. I wanted to play! Not long after that day I was told that I could play. All I had to do was write.

What?! Just sit down and… and what? Start typing? Are you kidding me? You can’t just write. There was no way that was going to work. No way! And who else will be writing along side me? Oh, just the very same bloggers I’d been voraciously reading on a daily basis. Oohing and ahhing over their creativity, style and choice of words. No no no, that would never work. I couldn’t possibly hold my own in such a crowd. Oh but I wanted to.

So for the first time in my life, I made a commitment to write. I created a character profile, and sent in my request to join Escaping Reality. The site launched, and it was daunting and terrifying and so very exciting. For awhile I watched and read, observing the interactions and the writing. I noted the differing styles coming together and met some new online friends. Some were writers, some gamers and some just there to watch.

Finally I wrote my first post… and no one laughed (which is a good thing as it wasn’t meant to be a funny post). So I wrote another, and when my turn came around again I wrote yet another. They started to build up little by little until suddenly I realized my character, Lizzy, was developing a personality. It was actually happening like I’d read about in all those books on writing. Lizzy started to take on a life of her own, and I was just writing it down, and with some specific feedback from my co-writers, I was getting a little bit better at it. Each post better than the last.

I was writing! Not reading about writing. Not thinking about it. I was writing as if it was the most natural thing in the world to simply sit down at a keyboard and start typing dialog and descriptions and thoughts and fears. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but somehow (and by somehow I mean with a lot of encouragement from everyone in the community) I was OK with that. I’d spent my whole life thinking about writing instead of writing.

No more. Thank you again James and Harry. If I ever publish anything at all, you can be sure it will be dedicated to the two people who taught me that the best way to learn how to write is to just write.

New Addictions and Getting Organized

When I was in school, eons and ages ago, it was nearly impossible to find real wooden pencils. That makes no sense, I know. Apparently pencils that melt rather than burn was a stupid fad of the 80s, and damnit I wanted wood. Maybe it was my internal architect screaming to break free, maybe it was stubbornness, but nothing but a Dixon Ticonderoga would suffice.

Why am I writing about pencils? Well, I went pencil shopping this weekend, and darned if every pencil I found wasn’t real wood! As a matter of fact I didn’t see a single “plastic” pencil in the lot. I thought it would be as simple as it used to be to grab the only box of wood pencils on the shelf and be on my merry way, but nope. I had my work cut out for me in selecting just the right pencil, and I took my sweet time.

Why did I need a pencil? If I tell you I recently purchased and read Nick Cernis’ ebook, Todoodlist , most of you will probably begin to understand where my head is. Before that I was drawn in by his blog article Moleskine Notebooks: The Ultimate Guide (and how to rank your addiction), and I can only hope “How to Deal with Your Moleskine Addiction” is soon to follow, because I’m in danger of hand cramps as it is.

While I’ve been noticably absent from the blog world, I have been writing, and enjoying it! Never fear, I believe this trend of absenteeism will soon pass, because I’m building up ideas and thoughts on things to write here. I’ve been jotting down things that I think of that normally I would forget within minutes. So now when I sit down to write a post, I should have plenty of fodder.

So, what have y’all been up to?

8 Things About Nicole

I’m not a meme person (I know, I know. Everyone says that. Sue me!), but this particular meme gives me a chance to share some things about me that I may not think to share under normal circumstances. So without further ado, here are “8 Random Facts About Me”.

1. I was adopted when I was six weeks old, and I count myself extremely lucky to have been chosen by the most amazing couple I’ve ever known. As a couple, M&D (aka: Mum & Dad) are an inspiration to just about everyone who knows them, and people often make a point to tell me so, though I am well aware of the fact. I was truly blessed the day the adoption agency called M&D telling them I had a birthmark on my finger and asking if they still wanted me. They still picked me, flaw (singular!) and all.



2. I just may have had the perfect childhood. Mum quit nursing when they got me, and Dad was a high school teacher. We adopted my brother when I was five  and he was two. Somehow, and to this day I don’t understand how, on a high school teacher’s salary we had a large house “in town” and a second “cabin” on Sugar Island AND a 27″ Chris Craft cabin cruiser (very much like this one). It was like having three homes my entire childhood. Each summer when school ended we would close up the house and move, lock, stock and barrel, to the cabin. Then, at some point during the summer, we would go on at least one boat trip to little towns in Ontario for at least a week. How all this was managed financially, I have no clue.
3. In 7th grade I had a computer class for “Basic”. I learned the whole, start, print, goto, end thing and figured out how to place green pixels on a black screen. I haven’t had another computer class since then, and yet I have: 1) become a Cisco Certified Network Engineer and worked all over the country, 2) designed, created and maintained a database driven intranet for a major travel agency, and 3) worked as head of a web design department. I’m good at teaching myself how to do things that snag my interest.
4. I am allergic to duck eggs. Are you? Are you sure? Have you ever had duck eggs? It is entirely possible to be allergic to duck eggs and not chicken eggs, so you’d have had to have eaten them to know. Me? I’m extremely allergic to duck eggs. I’ve imagined that one day in the not very far off future, some brilliant soul is going to find that the cure for the common cold or cancer is based entirely on using duck eggs. Great!
5. I adore Photoshop. It’s an obsession really. I spend hours just fiddling with images and learning how to do new things. I can watch Bert Monroy video podcasts for hours (and admittedly, I do). Alas, this doesn’t mean I’m at all… good at it. But one day, if I keep practicing! :)
6. I went to Art School at the University of Michigan. I thought after high school that I wanted to be an architect. After all, what else would I do with my mad drafting skillz?? Who knew it would take nearly twelve years to measure up to Mike Brady level? So I moved on to Industrial Design. Six years later, and I was outta there… and I haven’t even looked for a job in the field. Not my thing. Ah well. One day I will have the loans paid off for the myriad lessons learned in those years.
7. Disney. I can’t write a list of things about myself without mentioning Disney. (In fact I’m watching Enchanted as I type this.) In one of my very first forays into the online world I discovered FDC. The Future Disney Cabinet, an online role-playing community (in MUCK format) featuring Disney characters. I immediately signed up and played Archimedes (from The Sword in the Stone) for several years before FDC sort of faded away as the original members got caught up in “real life”. :) Luckily, we had become such a tight-knit group that many are still close friends both online and off. My life would have been very different without them.
8. I miss the water. I consider myself a boater. After all, I grew up living on the waterfront (both addresses) and vacationing on a boat. I haven’t lived near the water since leaving home, and I miss it so much. I’m literally like a fish out of water. From the time I was 5 or 6 Dad promised me a sailboat when I turned 13. When I turned 12 he surprised me a year early with a sunfish, and I was in heaven. My goal is to one day live on the water again.

So there they are, 8 things. This got a little long, so I’ll leave it at that. :)

I’m not going to tag anyone else to do this, because almost every blog I follow has already been tagged by someone else. :) But if you’re reading this I encourage you to join in, simply beacause it’s fun! Here are the rules:

1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged, write a blog post about their own 8 random things, and post these rules.
3. At the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’ve been tagged, and to read your blog.

Leave a comment if you’re going to join in, because I would love to read what you post. And enjoy!