Month: April 2011


 I think someone I really would have enjoyed knowing died recently. The books that have been showing up in the Salvation Army have been ones I would have bought had I the money to pay full price. As it is, nine dollars plus tax netted 14 paperbacks and 2 hard covers. Two of them were by David Sedaris and I found myself reading his essays when I should have been doing other things.

The Shipping News is probably a great book; I’ve never been able to get very far with it and don’t see movies that are based on books if I can help it. A person I correspond with said she was a great writer, so when I came across Accordion Crimes, I picked it up. I haven’t started to read it yet. I’m in the Indonesia third of Eat Pray Love. In the India third, I found an answer to something that had eluded me in the past.

From page 149 of Eat Pray Love © 2006 by Elizabeth Gilbert:

“I seriously believed David was my soul mate.”

“He probably was. Your problem is you don’t understand what that word means. People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it. Your problem is, you just can’t let this one go.”

Now, if I had known this a few years ago, I could have saved myself so much pain and torment and doubt. It makes perfect sense. Why didn’t anyone explain this to me before now? I HATED those feelings I had back then. If this is what I was supposed to learn, why did it take so long to come across the lesson written out in a way I could understand it? It’s not like I don’t read; I read all the time.


That’s another problem. With all the new books I picked up from the Salvation Army, I have even more tomes scattered about at various stages of having been read. It may be time to draw up a reading list. I dislike reading lists, but at this point, I want a way to remember what it was I was going to read, or wanted to. Then I can put the books on shelves. Luckily, more shelves are already in the works to be built. I don’t think I’ll ever be done reading, or enjoying books. They make the best of friends.


Dreams. Paradox.

I’m about 1/3 of the way through The Motion Paradox by Joseph Mazur. Zeno’s logic produced some interesting thoughts. I’m fond of The Flying Arrow: it is impossible for a thing to be moving during a period of time, because it is impossible for it to be moving at an indivisible instant. (Right. Tell that to guy with an arrow through his chest.)

It’s one of those books that I read about a chapter at a time so I can digest what I’ve read. I’m not a mathematician or a theorist, but I feel everyone should have a little bit of physics and math in their lives. I would be reading the latest Brian Greene but Husband took that out of the Borders bag before I had a chance to get to it.

I’m also exactly 1/3 of the way through Eat, Pray, Love, which I had to read because I was being a hypocrite. I referenced the book without reading it and that isn’t fair. So in a week, my statement of “I hope this trip isn’t his version of Eat, Pray, Love.” will be far more accurate. Or not. I can’t believe a person would go to Siberia for the food.

Oh, so the paradox I’m struggling with is this: If I have plenty of time to do things, I don’t get very much done. If my schedule is tight, I write, edit and submit more. I think I first noticed this when I was working on Campus Crimes. I started with the goal of putting in at least 1000 words a day and by the end, it was 2700 a day minimum. I was also prolific in writing emails and real letters, doing whatever I was doing at the Arts Center, etc. And I didn’t feel stressed. *Sigh* It’s a paradox, so perhaps I’m not meant to understand… which leads to dreams, since they rarely make sense either.

I had a dream that an agent wanted to represent me. (Yes, it’s a pleasant daydream, too.) The kicker was that the agent was in Houston. In my dream I was slightly ticked off because I had lived in Texas, and if I’d known I could get a really good agent down there, I would have stayed. ( That’s definitely a dream version of life. I really couldn’t take living in Texas for any longer than I did.)

Well, I have a list of places to look up on Duotrope for submission requirements. The goal is to get “Of Wild Rides and Pirate Eyes” sent out to at least four places today. I haven’t even started a cover letter…