"Life Gone South" comes home!

   I haven't said much about my memoir lately.  Don't want people to be bored out of their gourd from hearing about my blah-dee-blah book.  But this, I've got to tell:  she's here, "Life Gone South" is finally here!
   Let me back up for a minute.  I had bought a proof copy of the book already, but when I got it the cover looked awful, terrible, like something a kid would do when they first get their hands on crayons.  So I changed the cover completely.  Not wanting to spend money on another proof, I gave the final approval for the book based on the way the new cover looked online.  I thought I was fine with that, just having my proof copy with the awful cover.  But I wasn't.  Something kept nagging at me to get the "real" book, the one people can buy on Amazon.  I finally gave in and ordered some on my credit card, decided I would figure out how to pay for it when the bill came.
   Fast forward to last night.  I get home from work and it's dark in the house, since DMan is working his overnight shift, except for a light above the kitchen sink shining on a big box.  My books.  I don't want to rush this moment, so I put my things away, change clothes, unload the dishes from the dish drainer, and finally I can't stand it any more.  I pour up a glass of Graham Beck Pinotage -- a very fine wine for a very special event -- and slice open the box.  I gasp when I see her.  She is beautiful, even just looking at the back cover.  Then I lift her out of the box and can only stare.  The front cover is divine, perfect, from the photo DMan took of me standing in the ocean, to the sky blue and ocean blue background, to the indigo purple type.
   Now I've never been a mother, but I'm guessing I felt the same way a mother feels after she nurtures her baby for nine months and then finally gets to hold it for the first time -- awestruck.  I ran my hands across the slick cover like a mother would her child's smooth head, relished the weight in my hands, held it to my chest, breathed in the smell of the pages.  This was my baby and it was finally real.
   Thanks for reading this and sharing my special moment with me.  I've got to get to work now birthing my next baby, my novel "Life Is A Beach -- After I'm Gone."  She has been inside me for way longer than nine months, and I am more than ready to see her become a real book.  Then maybe I can take a break from having "babies" for a while and actually read a book for fun or have a date with DMan.
   Yall live crrr-azy today and have some special moments for yourselves!             

Small town, big fun!

   I made it down to Republic's Fall Festival last night and had a blast -- from the past.  It was just like stepping back into my high school years:  walking around the Kiwanis field (although I loved it when they used to close down Main Street and the festival filled the whole downtown, anyone remember that?) and chatting with friends, smelling the funnel cakes and corn dogs, hearing the bingo numbers called out over the loud speaker, watching a few two-steppers get jiggy on the dance floor to the music of a local band, hearing the thunk-splash of the dunk tank, seeing the kids lined up to ride the Octopus and the Zipper.  The only thing missing was the cake walk.  What's a Fall Festival without snippets of music blaring from a boom box while you hop from cement block to block, trying not to fall off and hoping when the music stops to land on that magical number that will win you a homemade cherry pie, German chocolate cake, or plate of no-bake cookies so sweet your teeth will ache?  For someone that doesn't bake, having my number called out was like winning the confection lottery, and whatever I won usually got eaten before I ever made it home.  Please, oh please, bring back the cake walk next year!
   Other than the disappointment of no cake walk, it was a night of many blessings.  Mama and I played bingo, and she won two games and $31.  I spent my very last Queen candidate ticket on one last game of bingo and finally started getting some of my numbers covered up.  Then I was down to needing one number -- "come on I-29" was the mantra playing over and over in my head -- and the man actually called I-29.  I "woo-hooed" and "bingoed" so loud, I didn't hear another person shout "bingo" too.  So we split the pot.  Still, $23 of winnings in my pocket felt pretty darn good.  Mama and I had delicious, greasy funnel cakes and a nice visit.  I got to see my ex-husband and his family and catch up on their lives.  It felt good to know he is doing well after us not speaking for a long time.  As I drove away, I watched the rainbow of carnival lights against the black sky in my rearview mirror, heard the distant squeals of laughter, and remembered how wonderful it feels to be part of a small town, where people really know and care about each other and take time to share their lives.
   It's not too late to enjoy some small town big fun for yourself.  Just head down to the Republic Fall Festival tonight and have a crrr-azy blast!      

I'm a writer!

   I am an actual writer!!  I finally feel it!!!  Sorry for all the drama-queeny exclamation marks, but I am about to bust a gut I'm so excited.  I realized that I can blog until I'm blue in the fingers, and while I love doing it and my blogs have inspired a few readers (and thanks for letting me know with your comments and messages, Yall!), I still didn't feel like my writing was for real. But now that I have held my memoir -- "Life Gone South (when I ran away to live at the beach and be a writer)" -- in my hands, ran my fingers over the slick cover, and felt the weight of the 554 pages, I feel it all the way to my soul.  And I even have an "author" page on Amazon.com.  Here's the link http://www.amazon.com/Roni-Blanche/e/B008X5ILZ0 for you to check it out.  Now I have no doubt that dreams do come true.
   Thanks to everyone who's read my blog (which will continue, by the way) and encouraged me in chasing my dream to be a writer.  There have been many low-down low moments where I would have quit if not for so many little nudges to keep going.  Now if you could just bless me with another little nudge for my book by spreading the word.  If you know anyone that would enjoy reading a funny, juicy memoir about my beach and writing adventures, send them the link or let them know I'm on Amazon, CreateSpace (title #3935971), and Kindle.
   Wishing Yall many blessings as well and keep chasing your dreams, no matter how crrr-azy they seem!

Need a laugh these days?

  I dayum sure do!  So today I cracked open "Gay Men Don't Get Fat" by Simon Doonan.  Hootiest book I've read since Jen Lancaster's "Jeneration X"!  Mr. Doonan is a flower-shirted fashionista with a flair for all things fabulous and funny.  For instance, he and husband Mr. Jonny go to a barbie and find themselves "the only gays in the village, i.e. the barbecue is all hetero."  So he listens in on the straight-guy conversation and notices the "astounding array of difference between our tribe and theirs."  He describes typical gay-guy convo as (I did some editing for language here):

First Gay:  Have you seen this new chick on The Real Housewives of New Jersey?  She's vulgar.  Hard looking.  Sex crazed.
Second Gay:  Wow!  For you it must have been like looking in the mirror.
First Gay:  "F" you!
Second Gay:  Here's a flyer for the Michael Bastian sample sale.
First Gay:  J'adoring you!

   Now that's funny stuff!!  But the hetero-dude convo he describes is even funnier:

First Straight:  Gotta fly to Denver tomorrow.
Second Straight:  Luvin' my new Harley.  That's her sittin' out in the driveway.  Ain't she a beauty?
Third Straight:  Took me two hours to get here from Westhampton.  Kids are crying in the back . . . 
First Straight:  Fresno the week after.
Second Straight:  It does eight-five m.p.h.  A total "f'ing" chick magnet.
Third Straight:  Belch!

   The only downside to the book so far is finding out how "naff" my fashion sense is.  (I'm not giving anything away, you've got to read his book to figure it out!)  But I'll keep working on it and maybe if I steal a few of his style tips and the donations at the Salvation Army pick up (come on folks, this mama needs a new pair of jeans!), I can get some non-gay glam of my own.
   If you're more in the mood for something funny to watch, I stumbled onto a series called "Exes and Ohs," about a klatsch of Seattle lesbians, their relationships and friendships.  Jennifer, played by writer and producer Michelle Paradise, reminds me of me in always trying to be nice (I didn't say I succeed, I only try), even to her ex Sienna who just got married to their former couple's therapist, but she blasts out of her nice-gal cocoon after taking a pole dancing class.  I really enjoyed when the scenes pause and Jennifer spills the rules of being a lesbian.  In other action, dog-rescuers Chris and Kris (I'm not sure which is which) decide to try to get pregnant, while indie-rocker and barista Clutch tries to hone her sound while living in the coffee-shop storage room.  And I love, love, love red-headed Sam, the luscious "L" version of "Sex and the City's" Samantha Jones.  I found Season One at the library, but I saw Seasons Two and Three available online, so give it a try if you haven't watched it.
   Lesbian comedy not your thing?  My go-to show if I really need a laugh and nothing else is working is "Big Bang Theory."  I've been a BBT junkie from day one.  My fave episode of all time is "The Einstein Approximation" from Season Three!  Believe me, if seeing up-tight Dr. Sheldon Cooper slithering around in a bouncy-ball room shouting "Bazinga" doesn't give you a chuckle, it's time for medication!!
   Enjoy and let's hear some crrr-azy laughter, huh?!       

Saturday night live

   Nothing better on a Saturday night, or any night for that matter, than listening to live music!  There's nothing like feeling the electricity of a band really getting in their groove and shooting out sparks to set the audience on fire.  Nothing.
   Last night I got flamed up by the Princess Rene Band at Lindberg's.  They only played for an hour, but it was a jam-packed hour of rockin' classics ("Keep On Rockin' In The Free World" and a blazing version of "Rocky Mountain Way" were awesome) and originals written by Rene and husband Tim (my fave is "What?" but a new song called "A" really shined).  I dig their unique harmonies and Tim's razor-sharp edgy rocker vocals, but when Rene wails on Alanis Morissette's "I'm A Lover" and Sheryl Crow's "If It Makes You Happy," with that crazy heart-plucking timbre of her voice, the experience is other-worldly.  You can get a taste of some of their originals on ReverbNation to check it out for yourself.
   Chapter 13 opened for the Princess Rene Band, carrying on the musical tradition with Rene and Tim's son Gabe on lead guitar and daughter-in-law Angela on drums.  They played a wide range of covers, grooved by a thrumming bass beat from Danny and vocals by his wife Casey.  Casey seemed a bit timid in being the front gal for the band and connecting with the audience, but when they did an impromptu version of "Shook Me All Night Long" for an encore, she found her inner rocker and came alive.
   I don't know yet when Princess Rene will be playing again, but if you are in the mood to be fired up by some live music, come out to Jalen's 2nd Annual Music Fest on Saturday, August 25.  I'm a follow-them-everywhere groupie for Techs and the Roadies, and they'll be playing first at 5pm.  Four other bands are on the bill, including a blues and a 70's guitar band, so it will be a night of jamming variety, dancing, and big fun.  And only $10 to see five bands!
   Hope to see yall there or at a Princess Rene show sometime soon!  Stay crrr-azy.     

Books will never die

   At our library staff meeting the other day we got a quickie course in e-readers and actually got to play around with a Kindle, Nook, and a Samsung tablet.  It was perfect timing for me, because I didn't know jack squat about looking at e-books and as soon as the paper version of my memoir is a done deal, I want to put it into e-book format.  But besides the blessing of learning something new I can put to use, handling those e-readers affirmed my belief that real books will never die.  No way!  Those little gizmos are fun to play with, but there are just too many things you can do with books that you can't with e-readers, like:

• smell the tang of the ink on paper;
• hear the creak of the spine when you open it for the very first time;
• lay it over your eyes and feel the comforting weight of the pages when you want to rest or ponder a bit;
• dog ear the pages to remember a special passage;
• run your fingers across the slick, brightly colored spines standing in the bookcase when you're looking for something new to read;
• be surrounded by a whole world of possible escapes when you wander through a book store;
• pick it up and read a paragraph or two during those annoying political ads;
• and even utilitarian uses like a door stop, makeshift end table, or a weight to hold down something you just glued.

   Can you tell I love books?  Yup, I'm hooked for life.  If I traveled a bunch, then sure an e-reader would be handy so I wouldn't have to tote around the five or six books I'm usually reading.  And I think e-readers are an excellent tool for students to use instead of having to buy thick textbooks that have to be updated every year or so anyway and waste so many trees in the making.  But there's just no feeling like holding a book in my hands for me.
   I'd love to hear your thoughts on books, so jump in with a comment if you're a book lover of any kind.
   Have a crrr-azy weekend, Yall, and hope you have time to escape into a good book!     

Take a big old bite

   Last night was my last "Writing for Magazines" class at OTC.  I will miss it. Although the class was helpful in getting ideas for articles to write and magazines that might buy them, the best thing was the connection to other writers.  The instructor, Steve Koehler (formerly of the Springfield News-Leader), is a terrific teacher, full of anecdotes and inspiration and encouragement that all six of us in class can be writers just like him.  He read the pieces we wrote out loud and projected them on the big screen, commented on parts that were particularly vibrant or unique, and we felt like writers.  Good writers.  Everyone in the class had varied levels of writing experience and interest, yet our enthusiasm bubbled up like a geyser about to spew when we talked about our project ideas and praised each other's work.  I was in the company of others who share my passion for words and writing, and I loved it.
   My point in all of this is, I may never write or sell an article to a magazine but it doesn't matter.  I got out and did something to feed my soul, to pursue a passion, to move a little closer to the "me" I want to become.  So I'm encouraging yall to do the same.  Find something you fancy and take a big old bite out of it.  If you've always wanted to learn to play the harmonica, buy one and start blowing.  (I know a wonderful harp teacher, by the way.)  If you can picture yourself flying down the street on a skateboard, get one and start flying.  (And call me, I need practice riding Pinkie!)  And if you are inclined to write, definitely take one of Steve Koehler's classes at OTC.  Whatever makes your heart go pitter pat, put some time and effort into making it a part of your life.
   I started reading Julia Cameron's book "The Sound of Paper," filled with smack-you-upside-the-head essays about nurturing your creative soul, and she writes that most of the time "we are too busy living a life to have a life worth living."  Don't let that be you.  Take a bite out of something you would love to do today.
   Have a crrr-azy Wednesday, Yall!  Hope you are getting rumbles of thunder and spatters of rain like I'm getting at my house!       

Hallelujah!

   I finally got my memoir -- Life Gone South (when I ran away to live at the beach and be a writer) -- downloaded and ready to go on CreateSpace!!  It's been three long weeks of trial and error, cussing and crying, to get everything right on the interior of the book.  For any of you out there wanting to self-publish on CreateSpace, here's a tip they don't tell you:  no matter what form you download your book in, CreateSpace transforms it into a PDF which will cause the entire "native file" (as CS calls your downloaded document) to repaginate.  So if you can download your file as a PDF, you will save yourself lots of headaches!  It felt so wonderful to turn the pages online like I will actually have a real book, to see the mock-up of the cover like it will look on my bookshelf.  I still have to wait for the final review before distribution can begin, but it should be within 48 hours (unless I've really screwed something up I don't know about yet!).  I will post when my memoir is actually for sale so people can buy a copy and read all the juicy details of my Myrtle Beach adventure as a beach babe and writer.  Then after a much needed rest, I will screw up my courage yet again to start CreateSpacing my novel.  Wish me luck, please?!
   Hallelujah, too, that we've gotten several mini-showers the past few days!  Not enough to make a dent in the drought for sure, but it's a start.  This morning after a 5-minute sprinkle, there were so many ants huddled up on the little bit of water standing on the driveway that it looked like a big black swarming puddle.  Gross.  I've heard that we've got cooler temperatures and maybe more rain coming -- BRING IT ON!
   Wishing yall a cooler, wetter, crrr-azy fun weekend wherever you live!