Good Bye Cruel World!!!

4:45 AM Elizabeth Seckman 2 Comments

Okay, so the count down has begun. It's six days past December 21, 2011 and the world as we know it is winding down.

Or so say the Mayans.

Or so say those who attempt to interpret the relevance of an ancient calendar...which was created by an ancient culture which also considered human sacrifice and cannibalism fine logic. Forgive me for saying neither impress me with their credentials.

So, you won't be shocked when I admit I have zero intentions of cashing in, checking out, and spending my final year on earth partying it up. I fully expect there will be a 2013.

But...let's just say it was the final year...how would you spend it? Me? I'd probably spend less time worrying about cleaning and mowing the lawn and devote more time to play.

Oh, wait, I already do that.

It didn't take an apocalypse or a doomsday clock** to make me realize life is short, that people are precious, and that any given day could be the last.

So what if my house is dusty and my van says wash me? I made it to level 12 on Nazis Zombies today.

And that my friends, IS IMPORTANT. We all know this calendar stuff is bogus, but the Zombie Apocalypse? DUDE! THAT IS COMING! And learning how to aim ranks well above vacuuming and just below stock piling machetes (a headless zombie is a dead, or well deader zombie).

Man your arms and arm your mans....just be ready. It could get flesh decaying ugly out there.

And if you don't buy either worst case scenario, then feel free to relax...there's always tomorrow to get things done.

**Here's a link to a Mayan Calendar doomsday clock if you need to know how much time is left.

http://www.mayancalendarpredictions.net/tag/mayan-calendar-predictions-that-came-true/

2 comments:

Life...Unscripted

12:14 PM Elizabeth Seckman 0 Comments


To make the season merry and bright, you need a plan, right?

14 years ago I had my third son, Carter, on the 16th of December. By the time we were sprung from the hospital, we had less than 6 days to prep for the grand holy day. I was way behind, thanks to placenta issues forcing me into bedrest for much of the pregnancy...but I am the queen of type A overdrive when the need arises. I had check lists and to do lists with 'do by' dates and times and a system of execution that would have made a general proud.

But God had another plan. 5 days till Christmas, my 4 year old and 2 year old picked up a stomach flu. Puke buckets replaced cookie sheets. Laundry piled up as I was slow to learn that "Mommy my belly hurts" is quickly followed by internal projectiles. Kids were rocked and consoled and the only thing wrapped up was my phobia of barf.

3 days till Christmas. The 'to do' list was pared down, shortened, chopped, and modified to meet the deadline. Kids gifts were wrapped sans bows and tags...the miraculous Sharpie marker took their place. Holiday baking was replaced by Hershey Kisses and MM's.

Christmas Eve arrived and we were back on the modified schedule. We even made the time to make Santa some treats. I was so used to bending the holiday tradtions, that I didn't even bat an eye at my son's Christmas "sporky spine" (a huge pepperoni roll adorned with a box of toothpicks) he made for Santa in lieu of cookies.  I made a Christmas lasagna instead of the usual cornish hens and I was feeling pretty settled and ready to enjoy a silent night.

Bathed the kids, put them in their festive jammies (going out to parties was one of the first things chopped from the list!) and went to the dining room to feast. Problem was our dog got their first. There she was like a Bumpus hound on top of the dining table woofing down my labor of love. She heard my scream and bolted, but not before scattering the garlic bread and munching a huge hole from the center of the lasagna. 

As I felt my temperature rise with the fury and injustice of it all (and secretly contemplated whether or not the edges were still edible) my husband turned to the boys and asked, "Pizza Hut or Dominoes?"

Candle light, pizza boxes, baby coos, and the giggles of preschoolers still totally tickled by the image of their dog on top of the table chowing down...is one of our most memorable and beloved Christmas Eves to date.

Totally unscripted, totally unpredicted...but ever so perfect.

May the to do lists and checklists never clog the cogs of Christmas cheer.

Merry Christmas and God bless.

0 comments:

The Easy Part of Writing...

12:48 PM Elizabeth Seckman 0 Comments


Today is my dad’s birthday.

Today I have a finished novel ready for its final read through.  My dad always liked this part and it stings not to get to share it with him. One of the greatest compliments I ever got was when my dad read my first masterpiece and called me and asked, “I’ve always wondered…where do you come up with this stuff?”

That’s the easy part, I answered. The hard part is the polish. And the dreaded query.

“You’ll get that." He said it like it was a done deal. "You’re really overlooking just how hard it is for some people to create. I mean I come up with what I think are great story ideas, but to try and put them down on paper in a sensible, interesting way is… for me at least… impossible.  You should be proud of that.”

My dad wasn’t one to hand out compliments like candy, so when he added, “I have always held the highest respect for writers. You guys build worlds from nothing but an idea and that just amazes me.”

Publication can't feel half as good. With pride I explained to him my process and he listened, really listened like I was some sort of pro. 

I told him I get an idea then I think... what if this…then what if that…then like a sentence with just a subject and a verb…I add the other parts… the interesting parts...and for me, this is the best part…I let the protagonist grow naturally in a sort of  love fest where I allow myself to go anywhere I want to go. I usually end up with a structurally unfit and horribly written rough draft.

Then I set it aside and edit something else.

 Then when I barely remember what I vomited during the first round, I go back through with my logic cap on. Usually half the words get the chop. A plot line is drawn. Then, like a puzzle with just its outside edges, I fit the smaller pieces…the foreshadowing, the red herrings, the subplots, and the setting. 

Then it goes to the beta readers. I choose only the really kind and supportive sort of readers because harsh criticism at the stage really stinks.  Then they come back with what they read…someone in chapter 2 disappeared…her hair went from red to gold…they really liked so and so, give them a bigger part…and so on. I take their notes and their feedback and go back to the drawing board.

 Then out it goes to my writer friends who kindly do the line edits. What I thought was done comes back with oodles of highlights like an unfortunate kid with yellow measles. Rewrite again. Let it set till it’s cold again, then reread and rewrite. Send it out to agents and editors and when I'm lucky, get some feedback...then do more rewrites.
Still no bites? Get fed up, scrap old project, write something new and the process starts all over. 

It’s that simple.

0 comments:

Man Up...It's a Gift

4:33 PM Elizabeth Seckman 2 Comments


During this Christmas shopping season, I am making myself the unelected, self-appointed man advocate. I am here to speak on behalf of every man who has bought the female in his life a gift and caught slack for it. Even the guy who really screwed up and bought snow tires and jumper cables (thanks Honey) should stand up and demand a little more respect this holiday season. You took the time to shop, right? You dropped the cash on it, right? You even wrapped it and put it under the tree, right?

Soooo, why did that top of the line rechargeable impact wrench (thanks again, Honey) not make her smile? 

Let me try to explain. 

Guys, it’s like this… women read between every line, even the lines with really fine print. She’s looking at your present with her Dr. Phil lenses on. While she’s unwrapping, she’s considering every psychological and emotional angle to the reason you bought it and what it means for your love for her. 

For example…What does that gift you worked so hard to choose SAY about your love and appreciation for your union? Bought her a sweater a size too big? You think she’s fat. Bought her a sweater a size too small? You proved she’s fat.  Bought her the wrong color? You certainly don’t know her very well, because if you did, you would know she NEVER wears that color…maybe you’re thinking of your girlfriend as you shop? 

Men, I understand it’s frustrating and I feel bad for you, I really do. And I would try to educate you on the nuances of gift buying, but I try to keep posts under 500 words.  Instead I offer this handy little gift tag as a cheerful caveat to whatever amazing thing you surprise her with:




Now ladies… this shopping season, cut your guy some slack. He’s as confused in the women’s department as we are in the hardware/ automotive store. I never understood this until I got a full blown ‘in panic mode’ call from my brother many years ago…after an unfortunate anniversary gift of a tread mill, he was desperate to make amends at Christmas. He called me, cold dread clear in his voice, “She has tennis bracelet on her list…sporting goods or jewelry?”
Yes, ladies they are that simple. Be gentle.
                                                  
                                                  Merry Christmas

2 comments:

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...