Awww! Mushy mushy!

Tradition says that if it rains on your wedding day, it’s good luck. I’m not sure if that’s true, or if it’s something comforting to say to a tearful bride as a year’s worth of planning (give or take) literally washes down the drain– unless she was smart enough to plan an indoor wedding, but honestly, who does that in Los Angeles? You know, I mean aside from the weirdos who think it might rain (so unlikely!) on their wedding day. Hush! Don’t look at me in that tone of voice. We’re in a drought! It doesn’t rain here anymore. I’m sure that sounds heavenly to all the folks on the other side of the country, what with all the Weather y’all have been having this winter, but I promise you: water rationing is NOT fun, especially when it affects the food supply for you and half the country.

But back to weddings. One year ago, California was facing a terrible drought. I mean, we still are, but last year was nasty. Seriously, we generally have two seasons: Rain and Summer– and Rain only lasts for a month or two. Well, last year all of the rain for the entire season came down on one day: our wedding day. The waves were huge, the streets were flooded, the children were scared– and Honey and I were saying I do. Continue reading Awww! Mushy mushy!

Back in the Kitchen. BOOM, baby!

Wow. The Holidays really took it out of me. I’ve been recovering slowly: the tree came down some time after Valentine’s Day. And it was just this past Sunday that I was ready to start baking again. OMG! It feels so good to be back in the kitchen! And now that I AM back, I feel like I want to make All The Things. Just all of them. I don’t think that’s a lot to ask.

I started the day by picking up my favorite GF bread-making book: Gluten Free Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe François. I freaking love this book. It’s because of this book that I was able to feel like I could handle myself in the kitchen again—a huge blessing. So because of Thistle’s post about West Virginia delicacies a few weeks ago, I have been chomping at the bit to try making some GF pepperoni rolls. I’ve been gathering ingredients since then: making sure I have the necessary flours to make the right blend, picking up the GF pepperoni (yes, you have to check), reviewing various recipes to figure out the best way to make these rolls. Oddly enough, Hertzberg and Francois didn’t add such an important recipe to their book, so I’ve had to innovate.

I’d love to report that I nailed it in one, but I can’t. I did bake some lovely bread rolls that have pepperoni in them. They’re tasty, because you know, PEPPERONI, but they’re not Pepperoni Rolls. I shall have to experiment some more.

While I was letting the rolls bake, I decided to try out another recipe I’ve been eye-balling for a while: vegan Doritos popcorn! Along with pepperoni, I also have to check snack foods that might be processed in a facility that also processes wheat, because even if wheat flour isn’t one of the ingredients in what I’m buying, it’s very sticky and if the machinery isn’t cleaned properly, I can still get sick. So it’s been a while since I’ve had Doritos. It’s not so much that I care that it’s vegan (I don’t) but that it’s also gluten free and SUPER easy to make. OMG.

Since it’s not my recipe, I’m not going to type it up here. Instead I will send you to the page where I found it, so that I’m not claiming something that isn’t mine. I will say this however: while the powder is delicious and is a lovely home version of Doritos, watch the salt: I love salt, but that was a bit too strong, even for me.

http://wholenewmom.com/recipes/dorito-flavored-popcorn-dairy-free/

I need to go clean the kitchen now. And I might make fudge. And then clean the kitchen again.

Have a great week, everybody!

The Stories that Breathe

A while back, Arcana and I went to see Wicked, which is a retelling of her favorite story, The Wizard of Oz. We talked a little bit about how even though the world is the same, the characters are the same, she considers them to be entirely different stories. I understand completely, because I’ve been saying for years that I consider the original Star Wars trilogy to be a different story from the full six that are currently out. (The OT is Luke’s arc, the full six is Anakin’s.) But the whole thing got me to thinking about remakes, reboots, and retellings. 

There was a time not so long ago when the only access common folk had to “the media” were stories and songs shared by the fire after a long day’s work. If a man was very lucky (or wealthy), he might have a couple of books to read, but most stories were shared orally. Occasionally, a performer would come to town and share their stories, songs, and news from afar in a live performance of some sort, but pretty much it was just regular people telling tall tales to anyone who would listen.

As you can imagine, these stories would change from telling to telling. That’s what happens when people tell stories– they change. We embellish, we alter to suit the needs of the current audience, and we dismiss the details that no longer suit us, adding new ones that are more fitting. This used to be expected, relished, even. How will big that fish be this time? And in the retelling, the story would grow and become more meaningful to its audience, who would then want to hear it again, to enjoy once more. 

Eventually the best stories were written down, and then the printing press came along, and the written versions were more and more available to virtually anyone. Then came recording sounds on wax cylendars. And not long after, moving pictures captured first on film, then on tape. And now we have the digital age, with its bitstream highways and byways. Suddenly (within the terms of humanity as a whole) our stories are frozen in time. There is no longer a need to have Grandpa tell us the story at the hearth each night. We can access our media whenever we want. The same storyteller tells the same exact story the same exact way every single time. Every single time.

Of course it’s a revolutionary way of sharing stories! Everyone across the globe can share in the same tale, told the same way, no matter where the storyteller was born. New vistas! New challenges! New adventures! Right here, in your home town, told as no one who lives here could. To people who weren’t raised in this environment, the whole set up is truly mind-boggling. Hell, it boggles MY mind, and I was practically born with a keyboard in hand.

That doesn’t make it perfect, however.

Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE watching movies over and over. I’m as bad a two-year old. Ask Honey how many times I’ve had a Lord of the Rings day (about to become a weekend, as soon as Smaug gets his boxed set– even if the whole thing is two movies too long.) Or how many times, I’ll flip through our disc library and croon about how much I love this one and this one and this one and OH! this one….

But still. People get so STUCK on how things should be, how awful remakes are. Don’t remake that one, they did it right the first time. Or Why did they reboot it? It was perfect the way it was. Or how about, Geez, Hollywood doesn’t have any creative ideas. They just keep revisiting the old stuff.

I know. I used to be one of these people. But then came the Clooney/Pitt version of Ocean’s Eleven (I know it was a while ago, but go with me here), and I realized that this version actually improved on the Rat Pack’s original vision. Granted, Sinatra didn’t offer much time for artistry (legend has it each shot was allowed only one take), but the story, it turns out, is solid. And it was actually improved by a new storyteller, a new set of details (and a new budget). Then I saw the Karate Kid reboot WHERE HE DOESN’T EVEN LEARN KARATE WTF??? and I was off the band wagon again. And yet.

Somewhere along the line, it struck me that kids today would no longer be able to relate to Ralph Macchio. He’s no longer one of Today’s Youth. He’s a relic of a time before these kids were even born. (No offense, Ralph. For what it’s worth, I am too.) And while bullying is still an issue today, the life that Daniel-san lived was different. No cell phones, no computer; social media was going to a movie with your friends. Homework was written and handed in, rather than typed and emailed. A story that doesn’t have a relatable hero will die. If no one can connect with him, his motivations, or if his life is just too foreign, an audience will lose interest and drift away, especially in our current “what have you done in the last five minutes” culture.

The reason that Hollywood is remaking everything– aside from the built-in-audience factor for the business-types– is because these are the stories that the artist-types love. (In point of fact, Hollywood has been remaking already-told stories since the way-back– Tarzan, Robinson Carusoe, and Allan Quatermain immediately leap to mind. It’s just that in the earliest days, the old stories they retold were originally written, not filmed.)

**TANGENT: And don’t even get me started on this whole thing about there being no movies with original ideas. You want that? Go to your local Indie/Arts Film theatre. You’ll see stuff there that will warp your brain. It’s just not as polished as what you get from a Big Studio.**

What I find fascinating is that this evolution is still expected and even demanded in one current form of storytelling: live theatre. Each director has his own vision, as does each actor, each costume designer, each lighting designer. You can go to a hundred performances of Midsummer’s Night Dream, and reasonably expect to see an entirely different show each time. Some of that is because of the live factor. An actor may forget a line or play with an audience a little bit more one night than another. And even in theatre, it is understood and expected that not every night will Hit It, even with the perfect cast, the perfect crew, the perfect audience. Sometimes, the stars are simply crossed. But it’s also because theatre people understand that in order to connect with their audience, they must be interactive rather than operating by rote. Come to think of it, music artists get it too– how many Grammy awards have been handed out for “I Will Always Love You”? And I think that Hollywood gets that concept, too.

The way to keep a story around for everyone’s enjoyment is not to freeze it in time, but to retell it, add details relevant to today’s audience and drop the bits that no longer apply. It can be painful for those of us who already have a favorite version, but look at it this way: Are we guaranteed to get a better retelling every time? No. But we will get one that continues living, even when that means changing the lyrics and music to the songs from Annie, or taking the trip to Mars out of Total Recall (I did grieve for that one.) What you are witnessing is the growth of living, breathing stories.

Oddly enough, it takes our stories longer to evolve, now that they can shoot round the world almost instantly. Back in the day, by the time a story had circumnavigated the globe– and believe me, they did (take a look at Proto-Indo-European mythology, if you don’t)– it looked entirely different. … Sort of like how Dorothy’s fantastic voyage grew from being a simple children’s tale into social commentary on terrorism.

Image found here: http://www.fivepointstance.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/Five-Point-Stance-Story.jpg

Adventures in Games

For those not in the know (at this point, how could you NOT be???), my husband designs card games. He has been at it for a couple of years as an amateur, and recently designed a game so fun, so family-friendly, and so awesome that his publisher couldn’t turn him away.

In short, his first game was published at the beginning of this year. It’s called Spy Guys, and I consider it a cross between Memory and Gin Rummy, only with cuter artwork. My mother would have loved it. Hell, *I* love it, and not just because Honey designed it. He, however, never describes it as a cross between Memory and Gin Rummy, probably because he was never so consistently trampled by his mother at playing Gin Rummy as a child, because his mother is a Wolf, not a Card Shark. But that’s not why I was telling you this.

Every time we play-tested Spy Guys it was SO HARD to put the game away. “Let’s play it one more time, just to be sure.” We have introduced this game to all of our friends, and the Hensons loved it so much, we sent a pre-production copy home with them, whereupon Eldest Daughter, Age Eight taught it to her grandparents. We even took it to a friend’s game day, where no one else knew Honey yet; where when I mentioned playing it, everyone rolled their eyes. Oh, you think you’re a game designer, do you? And even all of them wanted to play “just one more time.” Because it’s fun! But that’s not why I’m telling you this.

Last weekend was Orc-Con. It’s a local gaming convention, here in Los Angeles. (Yeah, I didn’t know there was such a thing, either, until I met Honey.) There are all these rooms for different kinds of games: video games, board games, card games, miniatures games, war games, role playing games (a game-form of storytelling), live action role playing games (same as the latter, only in costume), collectibles games. For these rooms, the publishers and designers take different tables and time slots so that people can come learn about and/or just play their games tournament style. So there’s a slot for Dice Masters, and a slot for Heroclix, and a slot for … I don’t know… Uno. You sign up for what game you want to play, and at the appointed time, you try to trounce your fellow gamers, and there are often prizes for the winners.

There’s also a dealer room where you can buy games and fun chatchkies. There’s a flea market where you can buy used games and… weird chatchkies, and pins with funny phrases. (“Anybody want a peanut?”) There’s a library, where you can check out different games, set them up at an empty table, and then either you and your friends, or you and complete strangers who happen to wander by, can play off the clock. There’s even a Paint And Take table, where they will give you a miniature, and you can sit there and paint it and bring it home to either add to your miniatures collection/game or set it on your mantle, center stage, to show off your impressive miniature painting prowess. I made a Scottish Drummer guy (of course!), but I ran out of time, so he’s on the side of the mantle– that’s for mediocre prowess, you see. But that’s not why I’m telling you this.

For the last few years, Honey has been going to a bunch of these local conventions as a volunteer judge. There are a couple of games that are near and dear to his heart, and Honey is the kind of guy that Just Knows all the rules to his favorite games, no matter how complicated they are. He’s also fair and honest to a fault, so he’s kind of perfect for judging. This last weekend, he judged both of his regular games, and then… ran a demo of Spy Guys, which was awesome!!! We had six times the number of people show up for Spy Guys as for the other games he ran that weekend, and they were all strangers. And they all enjoyed themselves. YAAAAY!!!!

And here’s why I’m telling you all this: I forgot to take any photos. At. All.

You’ll have to trust me. It was awesome. Like Legos.

PS I might have forgotten to take any pictures, but I did pick up a 1up mushroom. Does that count?

PPS You didn’t think I’d forget the plug, did you? Pick up your own copy of Spy Guys at the Victory Point web site or on Amazon (but Honey gets a better commission if you buy straight from VP.) AND just to entice you, the game is currently for 3-6 players, but he is about to release an expansion pack featuring a two-player option, as well as some Lady Spies! Sa-WEET!

 

Photo by ME!

Dear fellow aspiring professional writers,

There is nothing so disappointing as picking up a book you cannot wait to read, and setting it down before you even get to Chapter One, due to bad writing.

Don’t get me wrong: I completely see why so many writers have turned to independently publishing their books. It is NOT easy to get noticed by a major publisher unless you’re already published. And with all the new software and avenues to reach readers… why not self-publish?

I say go for it! I say, get your best work out there. But I also say you should give your best work its best shot, and I promise you that 9 times out of 10, your best shot is a helluva lot more than your one friend who knows how to spell and all of your very supportive and well-meaning friends who don’t know how to string a narrative together and have no interest in writing anyway. Continue reading Dear fellow aspiring professional writers,

Blessed

Apologies for the lateness of this post. Just because you write something, doesn’t mean it automatically posts when you want it to. Sleep deprivation and technical difficulties will do that to you.

***

As I write this, I am sitting in an auditorium full of people, awaiting one of my favorite teachers on the planet to take the stage. They would probably tut-tut me for saying what I’m about to say, but I like offering context to people who may or may not understand what’s happening here. Also, I’m not perfect. So sue me. Here’s the short version:

2005 was a bad year, starting out with me in the middle of a five-car pile up, and ending with the death of my mother and my first marriage only two days apart. Following that came a point in my life where I was dealing with some pretty major Depression.

I suppose you could say I was lucky, because at the time I was not working for an outside employer, so if I slept all day, nobody cared except for my grandfather. Of course, he had needs, so I really only got about two hours of sleep at any one point, day or night. Things got pretty rough for me– I was really deep in my hole. I don’t think I was ever suicidal; like, I wasn’t planning how to do it or anything. I had just stopped caring whether I was still alive.
Continue reading Blessed

A Tale of Two Oxygen Masks

I have been riding in airplanes since I was a small child; at first it was under the eagle eyes of my parents, and when I was deemed old enough, I got to be my sister’s chaperone when it was just the two of us flying together between our home and our grandparents’. It was a big deal for me, because I was responsible for her well-being. (Teens are big into taking on responsibility, you know.) For that reason, the first thing I did was teach her how to read her ticket, and how to find her connecting flight. That way, even if we got *gasp!* separated, she’d be able to find her way around the airport and get to her flight. She picked it up in no time, and was an instant flying ace on her first try!

But that first time, when we got on the plane, and I was still feeling the full weight of my awesome responsibility, I realized that the boring safety speech I had always ignored before take-off was actually important. I needed to know what to do in case there was an emergency. I even made Squeaky pay attention, too, so that in case we got separated, she’d be able to take care of herself.

Continue reading A Tale of Two Oxygen Masks

The Children Choice

My mother and I were sitting at an absurdly tiny table in a suburb of Atlanta, waiting for our tea and crumpets. It was early in my first marriage, and I was telling her my plans for when I have kids. I wanted to teach them to be happy, functioning members of society, I said. Rather than just giving them chores and an allowance, I was going to assign each chore a dollar amount, depending on how often it needed to be done and how badly I didn’t want to do it– you know, just like a real job. I wanted them to understand at an early age that life going to School is not like “The Real World.” I wanted them to think critically and to learn how to make solid decisions after looking at potential outcomes, and to have compassion for others. I had plans, outlines, and even charts (in my head) for all the different ways I had thought of to get these concepts across to little people who don’t yet have life experience.

I must have gone on for a solid ten minutes. And when I ran out of breath, she just stared at me, a little baffled. “I had kids,” she said, “because that’s what people do.” Continue reading The Children Choice

I have a dream.

So here it is, a day to honor Martin Luther King, Jr., a man who worked tirelessly toward his dream, a dream that will hopefully come true some day. I do my part, as best I can, but sometimes I wonder if people really heard what his dream was.

When I go through this speech, what I hear is not a dream about passing a law or forcing people to see things a certain way. I hear a dream about people treating each other with dignity and respect– something that is sorely lacking in this country, not only in terms of race, but in terms of gender, age, and class as well.

Dr. King, I have heard your dream, and it is something I, too, work towards every day, not by passing laws or setting policies (because those are not things that I do), but by being the best person I can, and treating everyone else as if they are their best selves, too. It’s what I have at my disposal, and I’ll be honest, my way is quiet and unglamorous, but I have seen tiny miracles sprout from my way. I’m not saying it’s The Only Way. It’s what I do.

My question to you, Dear Reader, is What do you do?
Image found here: https://tavaana.org/sites/default/files/tavaanaimages/image4_8.jpg

unLoading…

There are two people, currently active in my spheres, that I am very angry with. One of them, Blowhard, has been abusive to a very dear friend of mine. The other, Nina, was abusive to me.

I am not going into what Blowhard did; as I said, his actions were against my friend, not me. But he is pretty high on my shit list, because he caused my friend deep and abiding pain, and I had to witness it. The situation was fairly complicated, because people are complicated, but at the end of the day I just don’t like him, because of the choices he made.

As for Nina, at first I thought she was simply incompetent. I suppose it’s because I have a trusting nature– everyone has their blind spots, I suppose– but when I first started dealing with her, I thought that since she had a responsibility to me that she would honor it. I was wrong. Slowly it dawned on me that the actions she took, the choices she made, were not out of ignorance, or even just the result of a bad day, but were in fact deliberate and malicious in intent. Continue reading unLoading…