Katdish.net

Martin Luther King, Jr. image courtesy of photobucket.com

Every year for the past several years, I have read the transcript of Dr. King’s I have a Dream speech and wondered what he would have thought of our progress as a nation if he were still alive today.

The latter portion of the speech which begins:

“I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.”

has always been particularly moving to me. But this year, another portion of his speech really caught my attention:

“The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.”

“We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline.”–I think we have failed miserably in this area. The public discourse has become embarrassing. We’re more concerned about being right than being civil to one another. “Do to others as you would have them do to you”, has been replaced with “Do to others before they do it to you.”

So, how can we honor the memory of Dr. King?

How do we keep his hope alive? How do we rekindle the faith he spoke of? This faith which makes it possible to be “able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope?” . This faith which allows us to “transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood?” A faith to “work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day?”

I think most of us would agree what doesn’t work.

What doesn’t work is putting personal and political agendas before the truth.

What doesn’t work is vilifying and demeaning those who don’t agree with us.

What doesn’t work is thinking we can ever retain our own dignity while simultaneously attempting to strip someone else of their own.

What doesn’t work is waiting around for someone else to exhibit dignity and discipline before we follow suit. It starts with each of us, as individuals. In our homes, in our friendships and business relationships, in our churches, in our neighborhoods and in our public discourse. It starts with me.

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” ~ Philippians 2: 3-4

image courtesy of photobucket.com

Part 6? Perhaps it’s time to look back before we move forward.

In my first post in the series, Why I hate writing, I talked about how I hate both good and bad writers. This post got a ton a comments from writers because, as I think most of you understand, writers are gluttons for punishment.

In Why I hate writing, Part 2, I talked about how unfair it is that many good writers go unpublished or under-marketed while it seems celebrities have publishers beating a path to their doors with offers of a book deal. Yeah. Life’s unfair like that. At least it provides work to some ghost writers. What? You don’t really think any of those people actually write their own books, do you? Bless your heart.

In Why I hate writing, Part 3, I talked about how sometimes writing hurts. Self reflection and examination can be ouchy.

In Why I hate writing, Part 4, I stole borrowed discussed at length a question Rachelle Gardner, Literary Agent asked on her blog: “Which would you prefer? Great reviews, critical acclaim and awards… or great sales?” My answer was “both” of course, which she said was cheating because I had to choose one, but she’s not the boss of me. This was also the post where I introduced the term “lazy book whore”.

In Why I hate writing, Part 5, I discussed at length, my writing muse. Who, in case you missed it, is kind of a bitch.

So, here we are at the sixth installment of this series. Which begs the question, “If you hate writing so much, why do you keep writing and keep writing about writing?” Fair question.

I do it because, as I mentioned in the first post of this series, I don’t actually hate writing, I love/hate writing. I love the challenge of it. The idea that a perfect story (or song, poem, novel, article or blog post) is like a perfect golf game. To the golfer and to the writer, perfection is unattainable, and yet we hone our skills, practice and fail, and then start fresh again, trying our best to reach the unattainable goal. It’s an endless and challenging education.

Or at least it can be. Then again, sometimes we get lazy. (And by “we” I mean “me”, but feel free to include yourself if the shoe fits.)

Yesterday I wrote a post about a fire ant invasion in my house. Yes, it’s horrible and disgusting, thanks for asking. I started writing the post last week with every intention of making the story into a life metaphor. But then I wrote another post for the blog carnival about brokenness where I used shattered Correlle dishes as a metaphor for our broken selves. Now, I could have easily gone the metaphor route, but that struck me as taking the easy and expected route.

Instead, I decided to make the post an introduction to this post. Metaphors and similes can be wonderful writer’s tools in order to convey important themes or messages in your story, but there are times when we use metaphors just to prove we know how. And clearly, not everyone is equally gifted in the art of the powerful metaphor. Take these examples from Why English Teachers Die Young (via Snopes.com): A list of some of the worst analogies ever:

• She had a deep throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
• McBride fell twelve stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
• From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 instead of 7:30.
• Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
• Shots rang out. As shots are wont to do.
• He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
• The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
• The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law, Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work. (my personal fave)

Obviously, these examples are so ridiculously bad that they’re humorous. And if you’re going for humor, a bad metaphor or analogy is great. What’s not great is when a writer tries to force a metaphor when simple description will suffice. Like overusing adjectives or adverbs, or writing in a passive voice, it’s a sign of a timid, inexperienced and/or insecure writer.

Sometimes less is more. I mean, you don’t need to say:

“Behold the children’s loyal companion, its body like the expertly played keys of a piano in both movement and color”,

when all you really need to say is:

“See Spot run.”

A good quote bears repeating:

“I’m not asking you to come reverently or unquestioningly; I’m not asking you to be politically correct or cast aside your sense of humor (please God you have one). This isn’t a popularity contest, it’s not the moral Olympics, and it’s not church. But it’s writing damn it, not washing the car or putting on eyeliner. If you can take it seriously, we can do business. If you can’t or won’t, it’s time for you to close the book and do something else.

Wash the car, maybe.” ~ Stephen King, On Writing

We have fire ants.

In our house.

For those of you unfamiliar with this particular sub-species, fire ants are like regular ants except they bite and leave large, red itchy welts on you. They are also very aggressive. Think the non-flying version of Africanized killer bees.

Like mosquitos, love bugs, june bugs, tree roaches, mega prosperity gospel churches and bad drivers, fire ants are simply a fact of life if you live in Southeast Texas.

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that there will always be fire ants in my yard. There’s no such thing as getting rid of all of them. As soon as you get rid of one mound, the surviving members pack their tiny little suitcases and find another spot to build a new one. There is a product called Over and Out that promises to kill the ant population on your property for an entire season. The only problem with that is it’s very expensive. The instructions say to use a broadcast spreader to cover your entire property. A 10 pound bag is $25, which covers 5,000 square feet. Our property is just over 2 acres. You do the math…

No, seriously…I suck at math. I have no idea how many bags that would be, but according to my husband (who doesn’t suck at math), that’s a lot of money to kill some ants for one season.

Okay, I just figured it out (Thank you, Google).

One acre equals 43,560 square feet
Two acres is 87,120 square feet
87,120 divided by 5,000 is 17.424
17.424 multiplied by $25 is $435.60 (plus shipping and handling)

(Did you eyes sort of glaze over there? I know mine did.)

So, for roughly $450 every six months, I could have a fire ant free yard. And angry neighbors on either side of me because all of those ants are gonna pack up and move next door.

But back to my original point: We have fire ants in our house. They have been getting in through the weep holes in the brick and setting up shop in the walls. We are living in a giant, creepy ant farm.

I called Dave the exterminator last month. He came out, treated the outside of the house and sprayed the inside. When he was finished, he told me that I would most likely see a few more ants “here and there”, and that if I did I should just treat the area where I find them.

"Here"

I took this to mean spray them with ant killer or, if they happen to be, for some inexplicable reason, congregating in the microwave, turn on said microwave to high until they stop moving. Random fact: It takes longer to kill fire ants in a microwave than it does to pop a bag of popcorn. They’re tough little suckers!

and "there"

As I feared, I did see more fire ants “here and there”, and I sprayed them or nuked them as I saw them. The only problem with this plan was that every time I got rid of the ants in one part of the house, they would show up in another area. (Again–giant, creepy ant farm.) After a couple of weeks of killing ants in one place only to have them show up somewhere else, I called Dave back and told him we still had an ant problem.

The following day, Dave came out to my house with his business partner. They walked around with flashlights trying to figure out where the ants were coming in. I showed them the ant killer I was using and explained again that when I killed them in one location, they would show up somewhere else. After a brief discussion and more walking around with flashlights, they determined that the best course of action was to set traps for the ants and allow the worker ants to take the poison back to the queen thereby killing the mound. “Okay. That makes sense. You have to get to the source of the problem in order to eliminate it. I’ll do that.”

But here’s the best part. Dave says to me, “You need to NOT kill the ants with the spray. Let them crawl around and take the bait.”

Awesome.

So now I’ve STILL got hundreds of ants crawling around in two out of 3 bathrooms in my house, which makes the morning routine for a family of four a tad stressful.

You may be asking yourselves at this point, “What is the life lesson I can take from this story? What bit of wisdom can I take away from this post?”

My answer?

“I don’t have one. I do, however, have fire ants in my house.”

Not everything is a metaphor, people.

But more about that in my next post…

Shattered

We have three sets of dishes in our house: the set I registered for before I got married, a Tuscan looking stoneware set, and the set we use every day, Correlle.

We use the fine china once or twice a year, if that. It spends most of the time in a cherry hutch my mother gave me. The set is complete and undamaged save one dinner plate my husband dropped a couple of years ago.

The stoneware set is used more often–if we have company over for dinner. I also use separate pieces from the set to serve appetizers on when we have casual get togethers. This set is complete and undamaged.

The Correlle set we use every day, for each meal–bowls for cereal, plates for lunch and dinner. I even use the platters to defrost big stuff in the microwave. That set? Lots of pieces missing from that one.

When we lose one of those pieces to slippery or careless hands, you wouldn’t think it would be a big loss. I can go to Walmart and replace whatever happens to break. It’s common and inexpensive, easily accessible and replaceable. It’s also the hardest working set of dishes in the house. Correlle Ware is lightweight and stands up to daily use and abuse. I will readily admit I don’t give these dishes a second thought. They are there for me every day. Not terribly attractive or impressive, but a constant in our daily lives.

I mentioned before that you wouldn’t  think losing one of these pieces would be a big deal, but that’s not the case. It’s a very big deal. Because, as anyone who has tile floors and Correlle Ware can attest to, they don’t just break when they’re dropped–they shatter into pieces. These tiny pieces travel great distances across the expanse of the tile floor. When a cup, bowl or plate is dropped, everyone is cleared out of the kitchen. If I’m not wearing shoes, I get a pair on immediately. Those tiny slivers cut through skin like tiny daggers.

The dog’s bowls are emptied and washed, the entire floor is first swept then vacuumed. But despite the effort made to assure all the pieces are swept up and thrown away, there have been instances where a bare foot finds a tiny shard that was missed–sometimes days later. They seem to get into the dark crevices and go undetected.

I don’t really understand why anyone would design dishes that are made for regular use and abuse, and yet be susceptible to complete and utter destruction when dropped by a careless hand. So strong and resilient, and yet so fragile.

Have you ever felt like a Correlle dish? Willing to weather daily use and abuse, being taken for  granted day after day, only to shatter into a million pieces when carelessly dropped, swept up and discarded? If this sounds like an object lesson for your life–past or present–may I tell you something?

You need to know that there are probably hidden shards hiding in the dark places, seemingly undetected, that can and will hurt those who get close to you. But more importantly: You are not a cheap dish. You are not common or inexpensive, easily accessible or replaceable.

You are a beautiful piece of fine pottery, fearfully and wonderfully made.

And you may have been broken or even shattered, but the Master Potter, the One who lovingly formed you, desires to gather up all the pieces of your shattered self and put you back together. Not as good as new, but infinitely better.

Because you are His masterpiece.

This post is part of the One Word at a Time Blog Carnival: Broken, hosted by my friend . Please visit his site for a list of many wonderful posts on this topic.

I spent over fifteen years trying to get published and doing all those things an aspiring writer was supposed to do, so I pretty much knew what to expect when my first novel finally hit the shelves. I knew, for instance, that not everyone would enjoy my writing. I knew that there would be a sudden whirlwind of things to do and say and keep up with. And I knew enough to keep writing every day with the goal of always staying a book ahead of where I was supposed to be.

What I didn’t expect is how difficult it would all be in conjunction with raising a family and working a fulltime job. Strange as it may sound, my children were much more concerned with my participation in kickball games and coloring than book sales and blog posts. And the students at the college where I work could care less about me working on my platform. All they wanted was their mail from home.

Both were understandable. All of this left me in the position that the vast majority of writers find themselves—trying to squeeze in a thousand words a day on a manuscript, writing three posts a week, and trying to maintain a social media presence. Writing itself is a fulltime job for anyone committed to the craft, one that for many like myself must be relegated to the wee hours of the night and the early hours of the morning. And at some point between Christmas and the New Year, I suddenly found myself thinking:

Dang, I’m beat.

Which is why I’ve decided to cut back on blog posts. Instead of Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I’ll now be moving to Tuesday and Thursday. Kathy has been kind enough to turn me loose from the Monday spot here on her website so I can concentrate on books and a bit of freelancing, and the extra time will allow me to reconnect with many of you on your own blogs. Win/win, I say.

I’d like to thank Kathy for allowing me to borrow a bit of her real estate every Monday for over a year, and for those of you who have taken the time to visit me here.

It’s good for every writer to push harder and work more. It’s not a career for the lazy or the timid. But I think there’s a wisdom in knowing when to push and work, and when to understand you can produce better work by stepping back. I think that’s where I am right now.

Best,

Billy Coffey

****

For those of you who may be wondering what losing Billy’s Monday post means to me, I’ll tell you. First and foremost, it means the obvious–no more Coffey time posts here at my blog. When I first asked Billy to guest post for me, it was for the purpose of what folks in the publishing business like to call “expanding his author platform”. I think we’ve done that very well. As an added bonus, both Billy and I have picked up readers that neither of us would have had without his guest posts here, and within that group of readers we have been blessed to have “met” many wonderful folks online. Mission accomplished and then some.

I will continue as Billy’s website administrator and helping him manage many of the administrative and non-writerly tasks that go along with being a professional writer. My role hasn’t changed since I agreed to help him back in 2009. As anyone who has read his writing can attest to, Billy has a gift. My role continues to be to help him share that gift with as many folks as possible, and it is a role I enjoy immensely.

As for me, I’m still trying to figure out a schedule here. For now I’m just going to play it by ear and see how things work out. Thanks to Billy for all the wonderful words of wisdom shared here and to all of you who have stopped by to read them. I’ll see you over at his place and hopefully back her as well. I’m looking forward to a great year.

Gratefully yours,

katdish

P.S. – Speaking of guest posts, In celebration of him turning 40, I’m guest posting over at my friend Jason Wert’s blog today and doing what I do best: Giving unsolicited advice. Hope to see y’all over there!

Last Sunday I mentioned that Jeff preached a sermon on the Good Samaritan and that with his permission, I would write a post about it based on his sermon notes. This is that post. (The text in block quotes is taken directly from Jeff’s sermon last Sunday.)

Jeff began the sermon by showing this picture I had sent him a few days earlier:

“Isn’t it kind of amazing that a song that was made popular in the 1940’s would still be so well known that it could be the source of a joke for a t-shirt company in 2011? It seems like most of us can remember a time when “You put your right hand in, you put your right hand out…” I guess it’s all that repetition; there’s nothing new, so we don’t have too much trouble going through the motions.

I think the same thing happens with certain Bible stories. We hear them, and we’re sure we know what their all about, so we smile and go through the motions. Part of the trouble may be that so many of these stories have a good moral on the surface, and we get so used to hearing the moral, that we don’t look to see if something more is there. The story we’re looking at today has great potential for this.”

The Parable of the Good Samaritan

At the beginning of this parable, a teacher of the law, a man who has devoted his life to learning and observing Jewish law, asks Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” I think it’s safe to assume that this guy wasn’t asking Jesus this question because he didn’t know. He was asking Jesus this question to test him. To see if Jesus’s answer lined up with what he thought he already understood.

In response to this question, Jesus asks him a question: “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”

To which the lawyer responds: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and, Love your neighbor as yourself.”

“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

Think about that last line: “Do this and you will live”. By making this statement to the teacher of the law, Jesus is essentially telling him that he’s not currently loving God and loving his neighbor. He’s telling him he may know the the greatest commandment, but he’s not keeping it. As I read this passage, I’m thinking that this guy is pretty put out with Jesus. Who does this guy think he is telling me I’m not living right?

Jeff continues:

“Now the expert in the law is troubled. He wants to justify himself—literally, he wants to be declared righteous by his actions. So, he asks Jesus to clarify the parameters of measurement. “Define what you mean by ‘neighbor,’ and I’ll confirm that I’ve shown love to them, thus meeting your qualifications.”

Jesus could have given the lawyer a short answer. But every good teacher knows that it’s far better to guide someone to discover the answer for themselves—it just “sticks” in a much more powerful way. And Jesus is the Master teacher…”

Jesus begins to tell the story of the Good Samaritan:

“One particular stretch was ideal for an ambush, and was actually referred to as the “Way of Blood,” because of the number of people who were robbed and killed there. Having a character fall victim to robbers was really a pretty realistic scenario.

So as the man lies bleeding and half dead, a priest comes along, and at some point after him, a Levite does too. Again, this was a realistic scenario. They were both travelling the same way as the man who got robbed, which meant they were likely on their way home from working at the temple, which was in Jerusalem. Jericho was sort of a “bedroom community” of Jerusalem and many of the priests and Levites lived there.

For some reason, neither of these men stopped to help the victim. It’s easy for us to call these guys names and write them off as callous, uncaring, pompous hypocrites. But before we do, let me ask you: have you ever passed by an opportunity to show compassion to someone else?

Not just that person on I-10 with a flat. Maybe a co-worker who you know has had a horrible day (or week or month). You can tell they really need someone, but you’re just so tired. Or you’ve got to get to that meeting. Or you just have to get home. Remember: this trip was about 17 miles, and probably took around 5+ hours to walk.

How about at home? You know that your husband, or wife, or kiddo really wants to talk, or play that game with you, or go do that thing with you that they’ve been telling you about for days or weeks. But you just got home. Or you really wanted to go work out tonight. Or you’re wiped and you just want a little down time.

I can hear the priest and the Levite: “What if he’s already dead? And look at that blood! Either way, I touch him and I’m ritualistically unclean, which means I might not be able to fulfill my next obligation at the temple. I can’t risk that- I have an obligation!” Or, “I’ve got so far to go, and my family is waiting for me. They are my priority- Honestly, I don’t even know this guy! What if this is a trap? Whether he’s hurt or not, if I stop I could get jumped and end up just like him…

I mean, maybe these guys aren’t rotten. Maybe they’re just… human.”

image courtesy of photobucket.com

At this point in the story, along comes a Samaritan man. By the time of this parable, the Jews considered the Samaritan nation completely impure and lower than dogs. And yet, Jesus chooses a Samaritan to be the hero of the story.

But the actions of the Samaritan in this story can teach us three important lessons about extending grace:

I. First, the Samaritan was PROACTIVE.

As soon as he saw the victimized man, the Samaritan felt pity and went to him. He engaged the man where he was, without hesitation.

II. Second, the Samaritan got MESSY.

He jumped right into the ugliness of the man’s situation. People didn’t carry around first aid kits, so I imagine that he had to tear up some of his own clothing for bandages. As he began to bandage the man’s wounds, the wine and the oil that was poured out would have mixed with the dirt and the blood and it would have been messy.

III. Finally, the Samaritan GAVE of HIMSELF.

He placed the man on his donkey and walked the rest of the 17 mile journey. He took the man to an inn, and cared for
him that night. As he prepared to leave the next day, he didn’t surrender his involvement. Instead, he gave the innkeeper two silver coins—two Denari—which would have covered the victims care for about three weeks. And he assured him that if there were more costs involved in the man’s recovery, he would pay for them upon his return.

After telling the parable, Jesus finishes the discussion with the lawyer:

Luke 10:36-37
36″Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”
37The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” 
      Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

I can just hear the lawyer as he grits his teeth and answers the question. He can’t even bring himself to say the word “Samaritan!” So he tells Jesus that the neighbor was “the one who had mercy on him.”

So what can we learn from this parable today?

I think a lot of people would say that this story teaches us how to love our neighbor, right? Well, the Samaritan is certainly an amazing example of that very thing. But we’ll miss the big point unless we remember one very important thing: The lawyer’s original question.

He asked Jesus, “What must I DO to inherit eternal life?” The lawyer wanted Jesus to tell him exactly who his neighbor was because he was trying to be made righteous by his own actions. In response, Jesus tells him that essentially, his “neighbor” is EVERYONE.

Don’t move on too quickly from this idea, because it’s not as clear and tidy as we sometimes want to make it. Think of actually responding to EVERYONE the way the Samaritan responded to the victim.

You must be proactive with every single person in your life! Everyone you meet must be a grade A, number 1, top priority for you.

You must jump into the mess of EVERYONE you know. Bandaging their wounds, addressing their hurts. You must be committed to their complete and total healing.

Finally, you must give of yourself sacrificially to EVERYBODY. Physically, emotionally financially, you give until it hurts. To every single person you come in contact with.

You can almost hear the lawyer walking away saying, “That’s impossible!”

And I can almost hear Jesus saying, “Yes it is.”

“For humanity…”

Ephesians 2:1-10
1As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, 2in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. 3All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature objects of wrath. 4But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. 6And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, 7in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. 8For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—9not by works, so that no one can boast. 10For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Now THAT’S what it’s all about.

Final thoughts:

Looking at this parable with a new perspective completely blew me away. How many times have you heard or read this story? The obvious lesson is to love your neighbor, to give sacrificially, etc.

But there is a deeper message that I took away from this sermon, and it is this:

I’m not the teacher of the law in this story.
I’m certainly not Jesus
I’m not the priest, the Levite or the Samaritan
and I’m guessing you’re not any of them either…

Who am I?

I’m the man left for dead on the Road to Jericho…

and time after time in my life…

Jesus is The Good Samaritan.

Love. Live. Serve.

Dang. I haven’t done a twitter update since December 17ish. But don’t worry, I didn’t go back that far. I’m sure I probably tweeted something brilliant that could very well solved the economic crisis and end world hunger, but I don’t feel like reading through all those tweets. I just started at January 1. As an added bonus, I’m still trying to figure out this new MacPuter of mine, so most of the conversations I used to know how to cut and paste had to be left on the cutting room floor, thereby making this update make even less sense than it normally does. Sorry/you’re welcome.

And now, the best of me (or not) on the twitter this year:

@PeterPollock You didn’t know @karenzach is an author? She’s kind of a big deal…

Very often, my writing process involves reading a well written book. Reading After the Flag has been Folded by @karenzach

Oh, wait…never mind. I don’t care what other people think. What was I thinking?

I don’t want people to think I copied someone else’s story idea.

Have you ever been working on a story idea only to find someone else just wrote about the same thing? So now what? Do I keep writing?

<——Sucking up dead fire ants with the vacuum cleaner. Jealous much?

Sort of a reddish-brown 5 #lessambitiousbands

Dear Apple Computer Company: Delete and backspace are not the same thing. Learn it. Live it.

@Helenatrandom She says, “Well how much money does dad have?”

Note to self: Cancel Pottery Barn Teen catalog.

8 YO daughter: Guess what??? I found a bedroom set I want & it’s only $3,071! (I’m trying not to laugh)

@amykiane Pesky Ass Clown.

@tonyjalicea That sounds kinda gross to me. Everyone knows you don’t mix red wine w/chocolate. Except the Dutch, apparently.

And he’s be halfway thru the box by now…

I’m pretty sure if they sold katdish voodoo dolls, @peterpollock would buy a case of them.

If your twitter profile begins with the word “Ninja” you don’t really need to include the word “Nerd”. I kinda figured that out on my own.

@awefullymade That actually sounds pretty good. Mmm….polar bear!

@HisFireFly Because writers love to be unhappy.

Theory: Writers are gluttons for punishment.

This confirms my theory>RT @billycoffey: RT @noveldoctor: Pain makes a better writing partner than Contentment. He has a bigger vocabulary.

I’m so hungry I could eat all of @BryanAllain’s “I’m so hungry” tweets.

Deer jerky: not just for breakfast anymore.

Previous tweet brought to you by @muchl8r waxing poetic about the movie Titanic.

“Jack may have mostly froze b4 Rose let him sink to the bottom of the glaciating ocean, but truthfully, he died b/c she was a selfish cow.”

@amykiane Yep. You’re not supposed to disturb the mound when you set out the poison, but I like poking them w/a stick. Makes them mad.

The ants were angry that day my friends…

My work here is done//RT @tonyjalicea: @katdish @sistersadist Haha, I feel so dumb!

@karenzach The teen angst here is palpable.

Sitting at my son’s school remembering how much I hated junior high.

I like that my frozen lean cuisine feels it necessary on the instructions to say “Remove tray from box”

RT @LizFentonDecker: The Under-Graduate #LessAmbitiousFilms

Phantom of the Oprah #LessAmbitiousFilms

West Side Toy Story #LessAmbitiousFilms

Some Like it Not #LessAmbitiousFilms

Saving Ryan Seacrest #LessAmbitiousFilms

@karenzach You know, the katdishionary term for that is “fatassitosis”

The Shiny #LessAmbitiousFilms

V for Velveeta #LessAmbitiousFilms

Raging Bullwinkle #LessAmbitiousFilms

Fried Green Tomatillos #LessAmbitiousFilms

Leaving Las Cruces #LessAmbitiousFilms

Breakfast at Zale’s #LessAmbitiousFilms

RT @RedClayDiaries Reception @LessAmbitiousFilms

The Sound of Muzak #LessAmbitiousFilms

Pulp Historical Fiction #LessAmbitiousFilms

@CandySteele Can I cash in my value? Because we just dropped a load of cash on a computer.

My Twitter value is $678.84, according to http://www.twalue.com … What about yours? #twalue

@justinfalls Unless it’s Chicago deep dish pizza (in Chicago), all pizza falls into the category of “I’m too lazy to cook tonight.”

@justinfalls It was more than I could have hoped for. What do they want me to say?

We ordered pizza. It was delivered. We paid for it and then we ate pizza.

Ordered a pizza online last night. Just received an email “Tell us about your Pizza Hut experience”. Really?

There’s a big difference between knowing about God and knowing God. Knowing about him is academic Knowing him is a life long process.

I’m all about comfort before fashion, but wearing your pajamas to Eyemasters is a bit over the top.

Attack of the fire ants

@shrinkingcamel Well, I like your new avatar. But you’ve lost your status of International man of mystery.

So now I have hundreds of ants crawling around in 2 of 3 bathrooms in our house. That’s kinda special.

The fire ants are back in my house. Bug guy set traps & told me not to spray, just allow them to take the bait back to the queen.

@shrinkingcamel You changed your avatar! So, I’ve gone from wondering “what does Brad look like?” to “where’s the camel?”

RT @fishythoughts “I worry that the person who thought up Muzak may be thinking up something else.” ~Lily Tomlin

Nothing is certain except for death, taxes & Houston road construction.

I may lose weight because of my devastating laziness.

But every time I feel like eating something, I remember that I have to look it up on my iphone, so I just choose not to eat.

As part of an overall plan to be healthier this year, I downloaded an app that tracks calories (my husband has been using it for months).

Okay, seriously. Delete and backspace are not the same thing. #thingsthatbugmeaboutapplecomputers

It doesn’t help to be willing to die for love if you won’t live for it in little ways day by day by day. – @johnortberg

Son: Can I have my allowance from last week? Me: We weren’t here last week. Son: Yeah, & my room stayed clean.

It’s just a computer.

I’m enjoying my new MacBook, but I honestly don’t see why people are so hopelessly devoted to them.

It occurs to me after reading some of my spam comments that English is probably not their first language. Or even their 2nd or 3rd.

RT @fishythoughts: I just read a list of “The 100 things to do before you die”. I’m pretty surprised that ‘yell for help’ wasn’t one of them

RT @shrinkingcamel: My 18 y.o. daughter’s New Year resolution: “that 2011 won’t suck.” I like it. Covers a lot of ground.//I concur.

“Literature is strewn with the wreckage of those who have minded beyond reason the opinions of others.” – Virginia Woolf #amwriting

@lewismoats Ah, are you the originator of the Ass Clown tweet?

Then again, @CandySteele’s hashtags were quiet memorable as well…

Most memorable tweet of 2010? “Beware the Ass Clown” @RedClayDiaries

I see a lot of people using one word for 2011, so here’s mine: Strategery

Happy New Year!

And yes, we still have fire ants in our house. Thanks for asking.

After the recent and not so recent acquisitions of several electronic devices beginning with the letter “i”, the discovery of some yet to be redeemed iTunes gift cards around the house, and the realization that a 9 hour car ride over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house can get a tad boring, the members of my family decided it would be a good idea to search for and download a few apps for the aforementioned electronic devices.

The first and most obvious choice for both of the kids was Angry Birds, which I was delighted to download for them because I am a wonderful mother and because I was tired of being constantly asked, “Can I play Angry Birds on your phone?” I’m a tad possessive of my iPhone. (Ahem.)

As captivating and addicting as those little pig killing kamikaze birds can be, one needs a little diversity in one’s distractions. After a few minutes of searching the app store, my son asked, “Can I download The Moron Test?” I looked up said app on my iPhone and decided that it was well worth the 99 cent investment. For those of you unfamiliar with The Moron Test, here’s a brief walk thru of the first level:

Pretty simple and straightforward huh? Yes and no. My guess is that was probably at least the 3rd or 4th time the person on that video played the game, and I’m being generous. How do I know this? Because it took me at least that many times to get through that level, and clearly I am not a moron. (Although I do play one on the internets on occasion.)

Most of the tasks on the test are ridiculously simple. With few exceptions, all a person needs to do to pass the test with flying colors is to

Pay attention,

follow directions carefully,

wait for further instructions,

slow down when necessary,

and be patient.

Which is why I suspect 90 percent of the people who have played that game failed the test miserably the first time through. Why? Because the faster we can get through something the faster we can get to the next NEW thing, and heaven forbid we miss out on anything.

We’re so busy trying to pay attention to everything that we rarely give full attention to anything.

What we need to do as a society is exactly what is required to master The Moron Test:

and be patient.

I wonder if there’s an app for that?

I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to put last year behind me. It’s not that it was a bad year so much, just a very long one. But sometimes in order to look forward, we must look backwards. This seems to be a theme for me this week. Disasters were big news in 2010–both natural and man-made. Political and economic news continued to be depressing and challenging, but there was also hope and happy endings. The Chilean miners endured and survived and reminded us that if we keep our faith and hope alive there’s light at the end of the tunnel. (Ouch. That was an excruciatingly obvious metaphor.)

image courtesy of photobucket.com

For this reason, the Chilean miners rescue gets my vote for Story Most Likely to be turned into a sermon illustration and/or Life Analogy Blog Post. If you happened to be on the twitter at any time during this crisis, you no doubt read hundreds of tweets about their progress. But for me, the most memorable tweet from this time came from Conan O’Brien:

RT @ConanOBrien: The Chilean Miners could B released this weekend just in time 2 see Michael Bolton sing on DWTS (Dancing with the Stars). Guys, what’s an extra day?

To be certain, two of the biggest news stories of 2010 were the natural disaster in Haiti and the man-made disaster in the Gulf of Mexico. But there were others as well. Who could forget…

The Most Annoying Sound of 2010: The Vuvuzela Horn of World Cup Soccer fame. Just when I thought watching televised soccer couldn’t possibly be more annoying. But even with the sound turned off, all one needed to do was follow @thevuvuzelahorn on twitter (brainchild of @tremendousnews) for a constant barrage of the following tweet:

image courtesy of photobucket.com

@thevuvuzelahorn: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

And speaking of annoying, how annoying would it be if you happened to be traveling in Europe only to find your flight had been cancelled by…

The Most Unpronounceable Word of 2010: Eyjafjallajokull. The Icelandic volcano which shut down air travel across Europe and resulted in…

image courtesy of photobucket.com

The Most Unintentionally Hilarious Tweet of 2010 by@lewismoats concerning “a volcanic Ass Clown stopping flights over Europe”, which lead to…

The Most Creative Use of a Typo for Blog Fodder of 2010: Beware the Ass Clown!Or what happens when I go too long between posts by @redclaydiaries.

2010 was such an eventful and news filled year, I found it all just a bit overwhelming. Sometimes I find it easier to stay in my own little world and write about what I happen to be focused on. Last year (and most likely this year), my focus was on all aspects of writing and the business of writing.

From the publication of Billy’s Coffey’s debut novel Snow Day to my observations about all things writerly. If you were to ask me what my most read post was from 2010, I would have to tell you in all honesty I have no idea. I quit checking my analytics months ago. But if I had to guess based on the number of comments received, my guess for the most read post of 2010 would be Why I Hate Writing (first in a series!), where I confessed that the original title of the post was going to be Why I hate writers.

I went on to explain why I hate writers. This post received 50 retweets on twitter and 62 comments from–you guessed it–writers. Which only proves my theory that writers are gluttons for punishment.

And because I hate writers so very much, I plan to write more about writing and writers this year and all the many ways your work continues to disappoint me. This should be a banner year for this blog!

Snort! I do NOT hate writers! I love writers! But how many of you writerly types got a little indignant and teary eyed while reading the last part of that paragraph?

Tsk, tsk…

I know y’all so well…

image courtesy of photobucket.com

Pardon me while I dump my brain onto the page:

2010 was an eventful year. It was also, in some ways, very overwhelming for me personally. You may have noticed that the last week of 2010 I reposted rather than posted new stuff. This was mostly due to family time and traveling, but I’ve also been evaluating my blog and the frequency in which I post new material. For most of 2010, I posted seven days a week. Granted, I didn’t write 7 posts a week–Monday is reserved for Billy Coffey and for most of the year Wednesdays were reserved for a guest blogger. But still–that’s a fairly ambitious schedule. For me, anyway.

I’m sorting through and reassessing how to make the best use of my time for 2011. I have enjoyed and appreciated all of the wonderful guest posts I have posted, and I plan to continue this practice. But the frequency of these Wednesday guest posts will most likely go from weekly to monthly. (Billy Coffey’s post will continue to appear here on Mondays, however.) One of the goals of this blog will still be to spotlight other writers, but I also want to write more–both on and off the published page.

As for posting frequency, I’m still debating about that. I would like to allow myself more time to write, to read and to study the craft of writing. Don’t worry–I’m not planning to get all serious and writerly. I’m still the random and ridiculous blogger that I’ve always been. It’s just that I believe anything worth doing is worth doing well, and I want this blog to be a reflection of that attitude. As a good friend recently reminded me, quantity does not equate to quality, and I never, ever want to post anything here just for the sake of posting something. Having said that, I do want to decide on a schedule and stick to it. I’ll let you know what I come up with.

In the meantime, I would appreciate any and all feedback, positive and negative. Would you let me know what kind of posts you most like reading here? Thank you so much for stopping by my little corner of the interwebs. I know “community” has become an overused buzzword of late, but at the risk of sounding cliche’ I want you to know how much I value each of you who I’ve been so fortunate to encounter in the online blogging community.

And since everyone seems to be making or not making New Year’s resolutions, here’s my contribution. It’s a quote I found a few years ago and I liked it so much I painted it on the mudroom wall–the one facing the door I enter my house from:

“Fear less, hope more,
eat less, chew more,
whine less, breathe more,
talk less, say more,
hate less, love more…
And all good things will be yours!”