This was the wall the family looked at every day, finding something new to talk about and wonder about each day. It was colorful and a conversation starter for anyone who entered their house. It is something she still thinks about these many years later, long after both of her parents have passed away.

Why did he do it? She didn’t remember. She only knew that he resisted getting the television, fearing it would separate the family and bring about too much solitude. He loved family conversations, loved the discussions the covers generated, even stories made up to the Norman Rockwell paintings on the Post covers. Eventually, he gave in and the television was brought in and placed against a wall in the same room as the magazine wall.

The TV wall became the focal point from then on. “I don’t remember looking at the magazine wall after that,” she said. “Instead, we sat around the TV. I didn’t realize the importance or significance of the magazine wall until I was much older. Even now, I miss it. I think it made him sad that we didn’t look at it anymore.”

What a beautiful memory, and a creative way for a father to connect with his kids. I wish I had known him.

And now I want a magazine wall…

If you haven’t had a chance to see it, I highly recommend it. It’s there until January 15th and moving across the country.

After the performance, we were lucky enough to attend a Q&A with the actors, Megan McGinnis and Robert Adelman Hancock. They were generous with their time even though they had just performed for more than 2 hours.

Of course, the obligatory question came up: What advice would you give upcoming actors? But the answer Hancock gave  resonated with me. He answered, simply, “Learn as much as you can about many things.” Don’t focus on just acting or just singing. Rather, learn about chemistry, engineering, drama, English, history, etc. This way, you are able to pull from so much knowledge about life and that can only make your craft stronger. Simple advice that many people forget in the pursuit of a profession.

And the same advice applies to writers, does it not? That book you’re reading on physics is not a waste of time, and neither is that Nazi documentary on the history channel. Even reading People magazine can be helpful and build your knowledge of current trends for future writing. It’s all research and education. Don’t feel guilty about hitting the art museum or Musical Instrument Museum, it will help you when you least expect it.

I was advised when I entered Journalism school to take as many classes in as much as I could in order to be a better writer. I believe it was the best advice I was given (other than to stay away from that burrito place on Mill Ave).

I agree with Hancock and it definitely shows in his performance of an early 20^th-century gentleman. Go see the show and then grab a Newsweek Magazine on your way home.

So many people died, and such an awful death. The best that can be said for it is that it was quick. Dead within a week (Ok, a long and painful week with swelling, fever, delirium, pain), or within hours with the pneumonic version (sounds good after the bubonic version). Lovely huh? And, your entire family was probably going with you.

Downer, right? But at the start of this new year as I ponder all the wonderful things I want to do and all the great things I have planned for family and career, it’s a great comfort to know that we’re not going through a plague, right? (I’m trying to be positive…it’s a resolution) So, my new mantra is…”at least it’s not the plague.” How does that work?

Oy, my back hurts…at least it’s not the plague.

Damn, I can’t sleep…at least it’s not the plague.

I can’t find my muse and I’m stuck on a storyline…at least it’s not the plague.

I feel better already.

I usually make weight goals as my resolutions, but since I finally lost all the weight I wanted and have kept it off for a few years, I feel confident in leaving that one behind. My goals for this year are different than they have been in previous years because my outlook on life is different. What was important years ago has taken on new meaning. So, without further discussion, my goals are simple and as follows:

1. Finish editing novel #1 and submit to agents.

2. Finish writing novel #2.

3. Forgive myself for the crap I’ve done this year. What the hell, I should start with a new slate of crap, right?

4. More discipline. It’s about time I stick to a schedule (or at least try this year.) Any help on that matter is most appreciated. How do you stick to a schedule?

5. Spend as much time with my daughter as possible. She gets her driver’s license this year, which means I will see less and less of her now. So, I’ll spend as much time as I can before my time is limited.

6. Spend as much time with my new nephew as possible. He’ll be born any day now and will live just 15 minutes away. No reason not to see him weekly and hug him as much as possible. Starting out in life, you can never have too many hugs.

7. Stay away from bullshit. I’m old enough now to resolve that I don’t want to be around it and I don’t have to be polite and put up with it. Life’s too short to put up with crap anymore.

8. Blog more often. Isn’t this fun? I’m going to spend more time blogging, learning about blogging and promoting myself (as an author and all around fun person who doesn’t like bullshit…)

Here’s to your New Year, free from crap and full of hugs and friendship. Thanks for following this year and making it a fun and prosperous year for me.

Step Away From The Professor

I’ve always been so proud of the fact that we don’t have any gaming systems in our home. No Wii, Gameboy, PS2, and whatever else is out there. Not even handheld games. For that reason, my daughter is a huge reader. Her room is strewn with books of all kinds and she loves to write as well as read. Watching movies is also one of our passions and that takes enough time away from writing for me, but it is something we love to do together. So much so that she is now writing a monthly movie review column in the local newspaper.

So what is sucking my time, you ask? A damned Nintendo DS, that’s what. A small, hand-held gaming system for crying out loud. I bought a Nintendo 3DS for Daughter for her 16th birthday, which was about 2 months ago. She loves to play it and has discovered some wonderful puzzle/mystery games. I figure that’s good brain food so no problem. But then Husband gave one to me for Christmas and I’ve been playing it ever since. It’s only been a few days and I think I need an Intervention.

Ever heard of Professor Layton? It’s a puzzle/mystery game that is frustrating, fun, exasperating, interesting and a huge time-sucker. It’s also sold about 10 million copies and is one of Nintendo’s most popular games.

The professor and his assistant/sidekick Luke are searching in a small town for a missing Golden Apple, which is some kind of inheritance. Along the way, they must solve puzzles in order to get closer to solving the mysteries that pop up, such as a missing cat, kidnapped cousin, murder, etc. It’s frustrating since the games and puzzles involve geometry, numbers, shapes, etc. Some are easy, some are not. You can ask for hints, but it costs you and they aren’t very good hints.

I love it, and now I know why there haven’t been any games in the house up until now. I’m more of an addict that Daughter (if that’s possible). And not only that, the DS is pink. How cool is that? Now I’m looking for fun games to play on it and cursing Husband for such a crazy gift. I love it and I hate it at the same time.

Oh, and there are six levels of the Professor Layton series. Seriously? I’ll never get any work done!

Damn that Professor!

Yes, we have lots of hugging. We love each other, I’m sure of that. But that has to be the only resemblance to that “normal” depiction of a holiday. Is there really a family out there like that? For so long, I felt as if my family just didn’t live up to the “ideal” family that sang carols together and had no issues at all except where to park all the cars. Well, that’s a bunch of crap, seriously!

I have a normal, dysfunctional family and we love each other, even with all of our faults. We argue, we show up late, we burn dinner, we even have awkward pauses (don’t you love those?) Perhaps being a writer makes me even more aware of our dysfunction and even more appreciative as the years go by. “Normal” now equates to “boring” in my eyes. Bring on the drunk uncle and the inappropriate gifts and the secrets blurted out at the wrong moment during dinner. Bring on the pouty teenagers and the cursing Grandmas. Oh, and pass the wine.

I love you all!

I drank a lot of wine. I slept late. I dreamed about changes. I dreamed about new characters and new challenges.

I drank a lot of coffee. I came home. I began to rewrite.

I am recharged. I missed my desk. I missed my characters. I missed my obsession.

This is what I see at night in the window as I sit at my desk. I love the quiet, dark, serene writing time to plot, plan, and sketch. We all have our best time to work. Mine is at night. When do you work best?

Ok, I know we have to suspend disbelief for most of these shows, but this is so distracting to me. With every bit of fiction, there has to be some basis in truth for us to follow it. I touched on this topic a little bit ago here when I ranted about Grace Adler’s weight and eating as unrealistic, then I was reminded that not everyone gains weight when they eat. Point taken.

But now, I want someone to point out a female police detective who arrives at a crime scene wearing 5-inch heels and skin-tight pants. It’s just not practical, and aren’t these characters supposed to be hard-nosed cops, or at least want to be treated as such? This is a tough line to walk, as a writer and a viewer.

My take on this is that the men running these shows are conflicted. If they make the female cop too hard-assed and tough, she won’t be attractive. If they give her a mini skirt and hooker shoes, most women won’t watch. Therefore, they make her hard-assed but beautiful, tough but dressed a bit sexy so any guy would want to pick up at a bar (check out how their hair is never messed, they are waifishly thin and the aforementioned heels) but wielding the smart mouth, clever wit and eye for detail that makes us want to be her friend. Shit, I want to be her! But only if you can teach me how to run in those heels!

Now, where can I find those boots Beckett was wearing on Monday night?

It was on the bright, Pepto-Bismol pink wall, on my right as I sat at the red light. I thought about my writing, my life, my morning, and then the world spoke to me. Simply, quietly, succinctly. I love that this could mean so much to so many people, and it meant so much to me. Thank you, nameless graffiti artist.