This is What I Have to Say Today, When I Didn’t Have Anything to Say Yesterday

 

How do we wake up spiritually, and what does that mean anyway? As writers or bloggers, what can we say that hasn't been said?

 

There is a lot to say, for we live on the leading edge, but there is a drop-off in front of us, and we don't know how to handle it. 

 

Is there an invisible stone bridge across the abyss that blends into the surroundings that we can’t see? Remember Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? (Perhaps that is my favorite of the Jones series—or a close tie with the first. Who can forget the snakes or that incredible ride on the black horse where Indiana forces a rock into the enemy tank's exhaust?)

 

In times of trouble, we can rely on the arts to give us a moment of reprieve or a thought that no amount of preaching or expose' can do. It's the stories we love. We usually want the good guy to win, and happy endings work better than sad ones.

 

See, we are really dreamers and romantics at heart.

 

That is something we have forgotten.

 

Tomorrow is Ground Hog's Day. I will always remember the date, which is also my grandson's birthday. It's time to watch that movie again. Bill Murray, who begins as a pompous jerk, must relive the same day over and over until he is transformed into a nice guy and wins his lady love.

 

Is that what we do with our lives? Must we keep living it until we get it?

 

It tickled me when I read that author Mark Manson said he would like to be a barista at Starbucks and write a note on everyone's cup. It was dismal stuff about the meaninglessness of life, but then how can we send them off with "Have a nice day" when so much depression abounds?

 

"Depression," Manson says, "is a crisis of Hope."

 

"Hope is what we believe to be greater than ourselves. Without it we believe we are nothing."—Mark Manson. 

 

I mentioned Thailand in an earlier blog after watching a documentary on Happiness. The Thai people were listed as among the happiest because they believed in HOPE.

 

"Getting it" is different for everybody. However, I think a few characteristics could apply—take care of yourself, the people, and the earth, be kind, and don't hurt things-living or otherwise. Have a spiritual understanding without beating other people over the head with it. Continue to grow. Believe in hope.

 

We are only here briefly, so we should make it count for something. 

 

 

P.S. I was depressed until I wrote something. That’s a lesson on putting the pen to page and begin.

Oh Goodie

 

“It is nearly impossible to be error-free.” Spoken by a publisher who still finds errors in New York Times best sellers.

You know how it is. We can see errors someone else makes but not our own. That is not entirely egotistic. We know our material, and so our brain fills in the blanks.

Have you ever read a page where every word is misspelled, and you can still read it?

If the first and last letters are correct and the middle letters resemble the word you are writing, it is readable. Our brains are amazing.

However, our little picky brain is annoyed by that error, like a fly on the wall is irritating for it destroys the pristine palate of the wall.

Have you ever noticed that you see the slightest movement in a field of grass on that hillside over there? We are geared to see anything out of place.

I’m in the second phase of my memoir. I hesitate to call it that, for that seems egotistical, but I am fascinated by Natalie Goldberg, who says a memoir can begin at any time in your life, and it doesn’t have to begin with I was born in…” Neither does it have to be your entire life. I love it. Just pick a moment that took your breath away and go for it.

And everyone has a story to tell.

Oh yeah, but is it a good story?

I was impressed by Oprah Winfrey, who said that although she walks into a room as one, she carries 10,000 with her. Think of all those ancestors who contributed to you. Think of what you have behind you. Who came over on a boat? Who was a slave? Who was a horse thief? How about that Grandma who gave birth to twelve children and, by sweat and tears, raised them to adults? Why worked their butts off to put food on the table?

What did you get from them? I know little about those who came before me, but I owe it to them to write what little I know. We don’t know about their inner thoughts; some were working so hard they didn’t have time to ask the big questions or the inclination to ask. Some things were rigid then. Some words weren’t spoken.  But those people still had their thoughts and questions and doubts. I felt that by writing what little I know, I honor their lives. Even if those lives weren’t perfect.

Like a perfect manuscript, perfect life is impossible, but we try.

I reached my goal of 50,000 words while the pink blossoms remained on the tree from May 1 to May 31. That’s the fun part. Now comes the work, the corrections, the rewrites, the “What in the world am I doing?” stage. And what was I afraid to place on paper?

I didn’t have anything to say today, so I said this.

Hee hee,

Carry on, do good work, 

 

 

Thanks for showing up, you guys, who are anonymous to me. 

I began reading a novel, recommended by my Naturopath, in which a young girl decided to write for one person only. 

She placed her writing into a "Hello Kitty" lunch box, and somehow—I don't know how yet, it washed up on a beach. (It had a gasket around the lid, and the entire box was wrapped in plastic.) I don't know if the protagonist threw it, was killed in a tsunami, or committed suicide. She said she would live long.) Someone did find it. A woman named Ruth. I just realized the author used her own name and didn't have kind words for the name Ruth. 

The book is A Tale for The Time Being by Ruth Ozeki.

I don't know if I will wade through the angst. Yeah, yeah, I know, chase your protagonist up a tree, throw rocks at them, get them down from the tree.

The basic plot. 

A few challenges, that's okay, but I don't want to read too much angst. We have enough of that in our lives. In Caveman's days, the tribe gravitated to a good storyteller around the campfire. The tribe, well fed and warm, sat around the fire, anxious for a good ole romp through the trials of life, hoping their hero would triumphant to stupendous proportions. Maybe they would hear a good love story. (A happy one, or a sad one?) "When I heard the Native American tale of how Mt Hood on the Oregon side of the Columbia River and Mt. Adams on the Washington side was in love with the same woman, it didn't end well. She ended up a cinder cone lying beside her love—which one was it? I don't remember. 

Volcanic eruptions create good myths. 

Hunter stories got the gang pumped. The hunter faced his dangerous prey, he almost got gobbled up, but he killed the animal and brought home food. Now the tribe was safe, full, and entertained. Those hunter-story -tellers were the gladiators.

The hero or heroine can fall into a tar- pit once in a while. That's okay if they escape. We want them to be victorious. That is, if we love them. 

What makes a good story?

I asked that question today, and the answer came within the hour. I opened my phone as I sat in the car waiting for my daughter to have a chiropractic appointment. You know that kindle/computer device we drop in our purse daily? I opened Pressfield's book, Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t. 

Then why write it?

Because we can move beyond the Sh*t. 

A story is, Pressfield explained, "experienced by the reader on the level of the soul. And the soul has a universal structure of narrative receptors."

What does he mean by that? You know the hero's journey. It's a touchstone. And we ask, "Does this tale ring true?"

"The tale moves us, says Pressfield. It satisfies us emotionally. We come to its end feeling like we've just had a meal of steak and potatoes."

We all rooted for Rocky, not to win, but to go the distance.

I think I need some rethinking/reworking. Does my story have an "Inciting Incident?" ("To prove that I'm not just another bun on the street." --Rocky Balboa.)

The inciting incident is the event that makes the story start. 

In a movie, it starts about ten minutes in. 

In Silver Linings Playbook by David O. Russell, the inciting incident comes when the Bradley Cooper character, obsessed with getting back with his ex-wife, sees the Jennifer Lawrence character. (They are made for each other. Will he blow it?) The story has started.

The climax is embedded within the inciting incident. 

When Apollo Creed picks Rocky out of a slew of fighters and says, "I'm going to give this chump a shot at the title, we know they will slug it out.

Work from the ending backward. 

Oh, I usually don't do that. I write, like life, not knowing what lies ahead. We might not know the middle or the steps the hero takes, but we ought to know where she's going.

The All is Lost Moment.

My downfall. I don't want my characters to hurt.

Come on, give them some struggle. Show their metal. We all want to know it's possible to rise from the depths of despair.

And you know there is much more we can talk about. 

Later gator. 

Love, Joyce

Breakfast

 I remember my favorite breakfast.

My daughter, Nina, sat in the passenger seat, and we ate as I drove. We had a shiny black town car that the rental company had, by luck, upgraded from the simple sedan I had ordered. Before we left the parking lot, that luxurious vehicle had told me three times that I was too close to another car or a wall. Don’t you hate it when a car bosses you? 

 We had flown to Los Angeles, gone to Disneyland, then driven to San Diego to visit Sea World. We were driving back to L.A.

We waited until 11 a.m. that morning until Point Loma Sea Food take out or eat in restaurant opened.

We had lunch there many times when we lived in San Diego. We would sit outside in the sunshine with seagulls begging overhead and sea lions barking in the harbor. Although I had many lunches there, I had never ordered breakfast before. 

I ordered my favorite, a crab sandwich. 

 

“I’m in heaven,” I sang as we barreled up I-5. I’ve tried other crab sandwiches from other restaurants, but none comes close to Point Loma’s. It’s a simple sandwich, crab meat with tartar sauce (I get extra) on sourdough bread. That’s it. Iced tea and lemon completed the meal. It makes my mouth water just thinking about it.

 

 I could have called this chapter #Memoir, for that's what I’m talking about. I could have called the Avocados chapter “What to Write About,” But being a little obtuse can work once in a while. 

 

“I remember” is an excellent place to start.

  

You don’t have to wait until you’re old to write a memoir. Write one at 20, 30, 40-80, 90, and beyond.

 

Memoir used to be an old-folks genre, but not anymore. I was once told that nobody will read your memoir unless you are somebody famous like Shirley MacLaine. It’s different now. You can write many memoirs during your life. Do not begin with, “I was born”—you know the story, schooled, married, children. No, a memoir is that stop alongside the road to strip off your suit and bathe in that swimming hole you glimpsed as you almost drove by. 

 

 It’s those events that stop the clock.

 

 And remember, when you tell of events, it is living them all over again. If you end up crying, just wipe your nose with a Kleenex and keep the pen moving. 

 

This is your life. Make it a good one. If it was a bad one, you could write of that too. But whining—I’d suggest that is for your eyes only.

 

Traditional wisdom—Oh Lord, traditional wisdom has gotten us into more trouble than Timmy’s escapades on the Lassie show. Okay, here is traditional wisdom: “Without conflict, you have no story.”

  

Oh, how I’ve struggled with that axion. Conflict. The very thing we are trying to heal in our lives, we are called upon to write on paper. Some writers create such horrible events that when I read or see it, I think, “Do not put this into the world’s consciousness.” 

  

I know, I have trouble throwing rocks at my heroes.

 

 What about boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy wins girl? Doesn’t that present challenges and tell us we need to work for what we want? 

  

Challenge. Yep, we all like challenges. Otherwise, we would sit around with our fingers up our noses, get fat, and wear out the couch. I tend to shy away from bad guys and wars as challenges and instead face life, which has challenges enough without having to fabricate them. I like adventure, which holds the possibility of having all hell break loose. If your adventure is sublime, it’s a vacation. 

  

We have how-to books on plumbing, golf, self-examination, and enlightenment. Even those have an element of story. 

  

I looked online at the ten most famous memoirs of today and found exquisite writing but talk about angst. It was there. I was envious of their turn of the pen, but not their troublesome life. I hope their writing served to heal their wounds.

 

 What if we write through the horror then leave it behind like footsteps in the snow? 

 

 By writing our lives’ events, we CAN come out the other side knowing we are strong, capable, and creative creatures.

  

Remember, old Zig Zigler said, “It’s your attitude, not your aptitude, that determines your altitude.”

Well, well, I tried to show you a minute video, Pebbles in the Pond, but this site had other ideas. It's a moment of calm, and pretty too. The reflection in the water was so perfect we had to throw stones into the pond to show you the water was real.

You can find it on https://www.youtube.com/JoyceDavis0001/videos

I would love it if you subscribed to my videos.

Or better yet, purchase a book--look what came yesterday:

A proof of my book, the girl on the Pier. the stripe across the title is to make sure I don't sell it. I approved it, the spine is in the right place, no unnecessary blank pages. I chose a misty, foggy cover for it is a bit of a mystery. 

The first mystery is that a customer offers two million dollars for the painting The Girl on the Pier. 

The second mystery is that when he views it, he says, "But that's not the painting, there is another."

This is a love story, and a search. On Amazon.

Nobody Can Look Away From a Good Story

 I’m so happy to see you here. I don’t know who you are, but welcome. If you’d like to tell me about yourself, please do, no pressure. It’s fun for me to talk about writing, and I see that you care about it too. 

I wonder about other things on https://travelwithjo.com.

Nobody can look away from a good story.

 

The rub, dear writers, is making the story good.

 

You know the basics, right?

• The character (hero) wants something.

• The hero encounters a problem.

• A guide steps in and offers a plan.

• There is a call to action

• The idea is to avoid failure and end with success.

What will happen if they are not successful?

 

 

 

Most really successful stories use this formula. You can deviate from it, but those stories rarely work well. We, as readers and movie watchers, are geared to the formula. Of course, within that framework is a myriad of stories.

 

George Lucas mastered the story in Star Wars. 

 

You’ve heard that we know within 15 minutes if we are going to like a movie. If it’s awful, we walk out; at home, we switch to another movie. In a book, we stop reading. Horrors.

 

In his book, Building a Story Brand, Donald Miller writes, “Story makes music out of noise.” Mark Twain emphasized that when he wrote. “Sorry about the long letter. I didn’t have time to write a short one.” (Making music takes time.)

 

When a storyteller bombards us with too much information, we tune out. You know the novelist who gives so much description we skip over that passage? Miller says the reader burns too many calories organizing the data.

 

If you are writing to sell, the story idea works as well. The idea is to pass the grunt test.

 

Let’s say you are selling to a caveman:

1. I sell aspirin. “Uh”
2. It makes you feel better. “Uh.”
3. You buy it here. “Uh.”

Remember the formula for story? Sell it.

1. The customer is the hero.
2. He has a problem.
3. Meets a guide (One who helps him solve his problem—you.)
4. The plan (agreement)
5. Take action.

I believe most of my problems in selling is that I don’t meet a need. Trying to sell a book because you want to sell it is like selling refrigerators to Eskimos. (Although maybe they need a refrigerator to keep their food from freezing.)

 

If you are selling a book for entertainment, or education, you must first convince that person they need it. I'm crummy at that--but trying to learn.

I am working on a story, though, in Where Tigers Belch. (Small ebook like a newsletter.)

 

My problem: Finding one’s purpose.

 

I have met a guide: a little white-haired blind kahuna living in the jungle.

 

What happens next?

I don’t know. I’m making it up as I go along.

It’s coming out on November 21. I better get cracking.

See ya later,

Jo