Me and Automobiles

Daily writing prompt

What’s something most people don’t know about you?

One thing that people don’t know about me is my relationship to cars and driving. I learned how to drive rather late in my life (age 32). This is not usual for the US where a driver’s license at sixteen is a rite of passage.

I was different. Behind the wheel of a car, I was a hazard. Among the things I managed in driver’s ed: stopping in the middle of the railroad tracks to check for trains, butting the car into a snow drift in an otherwise empty parking lot, and making a 180-degree turn into a parking lot when all I intended was to turn the corner. Needless to say, I did not get my driver’s license in high school.

I took drivers’ ed again, and that time got through it. I didn’t, however, get my driver’s license because my parents were too scared to take me to the testing facility to get tested. I didn’t blame them. Eventually, when I had taken a break from college, I got the license but never drove on it, and my skills extincted. It didn’t help that I got hit by a car in my late 20’s, breaking my leg and resulting in a bar in my left tibia to hold it together.

When I was in college and grad school, I lived in a city with excellent public transit, so I didn’t miss having a car. It wasn’t until I lived in Oneonta, New York, my first teaching job, that I felt the pinch of not being able to drive. Oneonta was a rural town in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains, and there was an arts scene in the area — all spread out from Oneonta to West Kortright to Delhi to Franklin. Only accessible with a car.

I took driver’s ed with the best person I could have found, a laid-back man named Lee Fisher. He taught adults how to drive, and thus he knew how to deal with people who struggled to drive. It turned out that, when I drove, all the little pieces of driving wanted to happen in my head all at once. Think of all the actions needed for a right-hand turn: slowing down, activating the turn signal, braking at the stop sign, looking both way, accelerating slowly while turning the wheel, straightening the wheel … my mind couldn’t sort them in order. I learned to drive by reciting all the moves in order just before doing them. When I no longer needed to say them out loud, I went to get my driver’s license, and succeeded.

I didn’t let those skills extinct, instead getting myself a car to drive. I made a lot of mistakes, had a couple accidents, and spent a couple years in the assigned risk pool with expensive insurance coverage. But I got used to driving.

I have never become an excellent driver. I balk at interstate driving, although I can and will do it if necessary. But driving is a part of my life now.

An Upcoming Writing Retreat

It looks like my summer vacation^* is about to end. I have a little over a week until meetings start. In fact, next weekend is my last weekend before school revs up. But I will have a writing retreat in Kansas City that weekend!

Writing retreats are when I spend a weekend some place with cafes where I can spend a good part of the day writing and where I can eat excellent ethnic food. My husband gets coffee and ethnic food out of it^**.

I’m working on short stories right now. The stories I’m working on reside in the Hidden in Plain Sight universe, to be published in a future collection. I’d rather write stories for competition/publication in journals and the like, but I don’t feel inspired. To read the first collection and get an intro to the universe, look here.

I will come back Monday just in time for meetings two days later. And the first day of meetings lasts all day and is followed by a picnic^***. Summer needs a last hurrah.

^*Such that it is. I work all summer, but at least I get to set my own schedule.
^** My husband doesn’t write anymore. I wish I could get him to write again, because I think he needs a flow activity in his life.
^*** The first day of meetings is not a picnic, however.

One Last Day

I’m on the road one last day. Travel has gotten old. I will have traveled 2000 miles in a week when this trip is done.

No inspiration yet. Probably because this van is not Starbucks. I miss Starbucks.

I could use a mini-vacation, a weekend trip to Kansas City to write and maybe pet kitties at a cat cafe. Anywhere but right here, where my knees are screaming and I can’t take pain meds.

Two days in a van did not yield any inspiration. However, a couple new developments in my writing life occurred, one good, one bad.

The bad first: A submission of mine on Submittable was rejected. I’m not surprised; I haven’t been able to find this particular story a home. Maybe it’s not a good story. I like it, but I consider myself a proud mom of what might just be an unlikeable kid. I get lots of rejections as a writer; I keep trying.

The good development: my niece is working on the sketches for the cover of my latest novel, Reclaiming the Balance, and it is coming along nicely. Looks like I have no excuses for not publishing it this January.

I don’t know a single writer who doesn’t have imposter syndrome (Ok, I know one who appears not to; he’s insufferable). We all take rejections hard, and when facing success, we feel like we don’t deserve it. I’m not sure why the insecurities but they seem like a universal.

I will keep on plugging, keep on editing the novels I have in reserve, and keep on waiting for inspiration for some short stories.

On the Road

I’m trying to think about writing as I sit in a van barreling down the rural road. I’ll be here for seven hours or more today and tomorrow, so I might as well be productive.

I want to write some stories not relating to my world (the Hidden in Plain Sight stories). They aren’t coming to me. I seem to be on a hiatus writing-wise these past few days.

If life plays as it usually does, I should get an inspired idea just as I’m in a place where I can’t write, like the middle of applying fake blood on people. I’d rather inspiration show up during idle time.

Wish me a brilliant idea!

Go-to Comfort Food

Daily writing prompt

What’s your go-to comfort food?

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My go-to comfort food is somewhat unusual for a Midwestern US resident, I’ll admit. Typical comfort foods for my region of the US are things like chicken alfredo, cheeseburgers, and tomato soup with a grilled cheese.

My go-to comfort food is Thai namya, a light curried sauce over thin rice noodles with lots of cilantro. It’s spicy and mellow, warm and soothing, and easy to make, especially if one buys a premade curry paste.

I learned the recipe from my boss at the Thai/Italian cafeteria where I worked as an undergrad/grad student. I was the second cook, which was a rarity as I am very Caucasian. We would eat a family-style lunch most Friday afternoons that we prepared for ourselves. One of the dishes was namya, which we made with leftover flaked fish or ground turkey. This quickly became my favorite food, featuring both curry and comfort.

I had a lot of rough times back then, given that I had untreated bipolar disorder. I needed a lot of comfort. I lived a block from an Asian food store, so all I had to do is keep some sort of fish stocked and I could get the rest of the ingredients at a moment’s notice. I often used tuna, which was a little heavy for the recipe but was easy enough to stock. (An ideal fish would be a white fish like catfish.)

Even now, sometimes I have to have namya, especially on a cold day. I usually make it with ground turkey or catfish as I have been taught. Once I made it with a half-dozen bluegill I caught at the lake, and once (when I was feeling rich) crawfish tails. Just some coconut milk and water, green chili paste, fish sauce, and cilantro and that fish becomes my comfort food.

Out of Office

I’m on a trip downstate to visit a couple of interns at their sites, so I don’t think I will have time to write the next couple of days. I will bring my go-kit (iPad, keyboard, mouse, power supply) in case I get some time to write on the trip. I’d have to find something to write, as Google Maps and the interstate system (long story) have foiled my story idea.

Have fun!

Back Home

About my trip, all I have to say is “Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong, but I presented my poster and got home”. It involved paying for another ticket to keep my husband and I on the same flight home, a delay causing us to miss our connecting flight, and me passing out the morning of my presentation. And I caught up on my sleep all day yesterday, which my psychiatrist would caution against, but the late nights traveling took a toll on me.

Now to get back into writing. I had a weird dream which almost turned into a book, but I thought it would be too cheesy because the fantasy angle was a bit thin and there was a vampire. And a court full of potential victims under a geas to stay and not kill the vampire. And the chosen girl revenging her father masquerading as a adenoidal, unintelligent servant girl. And at least three romance tropes: fake relationship, enemies to friends, and time travel. I don’t know if I could write her without her becoming a Mary Sue, at least in part because she’s the only one without the geas. And there were Edsels. And jousting. Did I mention the vampire? Not all dreams should become stories. (Spoiler: She does not fall in love with the vampire. The vampire is the bad guy, not just misunderstood.)

I’m back from the break feeling somewhat discombobulated, which is how air travel leaves me. I traveled through an airport once that had a “recombobulation room”, and I now wish all airports had them. San Francisco had a “quiet room” which I wished I had time to spend in. Now I need to be recombobulated before I write again. The goal is to do Starbucks and writing tomorrow. And to luxuriate in doing nothing today.

The Friendly (Not) Skies

I hate air travel.

I haven’t been on an airplane for three or four years, but it’s inescapable when part of one’s job is to present research at professional conferences, something I have shirked for a couple years through loopholes. But now it’s time, with a trip to a conference in San Francisco.

The thing I hate the most is logistics. I can’t just plan a trip for two (my husband comes with me) and get reimbursed for travel. Instead, I have to use the university credit card to book my flight while simultaneously booking my husband’s flight, not on the university credit card, so we can get the same flight. I did this on my iPad while in the school office (The School of Health Sciences and Wellness, which the Psych department is part of, and I’m part of the Psych Department.)

I am not proud to say I made a mistake and put myself on a flight a day later, which had to be fixed this morning and cost us $288 extra because, like all faculty, I have to find the cheapest flights, which are economy class. I had to buy a new ticket for the return flight and could not cancel the old one. Imagine my aggravation. It’s all my fault; logistics is a weak point with me.

Then there’s packing, which isn’t too bad as long as I remember to pack everything in the car.

Then there’s waiting. That’s my least favorite part. I have to run a couple of errands before I go (including picking up a precious prescription).

Then the airport. Air travel in the US has become much more complex since I started traveling, and I’m grateful for heightened security, but it is a pain.

And finally, there’s motion sickness. (Yes, I have meds). And wondering if the door’s going to fall off your Boeing jet.

I now understand why people drink when they travel.

Easing into Summer Professor/Writer Version

An end-of-semester status report:

All I have left to grade is final essay exams for my Personal Adjustment students.
I’ve successfully weaned myself off the lithium with apparently no difficulties. We shall see.
I am done with Kringle Through the Snow (Kringle Christmas romance); struggling with Carrying Light (Hidden in Plain Sight series; a novel about Barn Swallows’ Dance and societal collapse)
My summer will be spent supervising 10 interns (a smaller amount), putting together two new classes for fall, and writing. I foresee lots of Starbucks time. Starbucks will have to learn to love me.
Summer trips: A conference in San Francisco end of May, New York Hope (disaster training exercise for which I am moulage coordinator) at beginning of August, and hopefully a writing retreat here and there.
My writing/publishing goal list for summer: Finish Carrying Light; prepare Kringle Through the Snow for Oct. 1 release; prepare Reclaiming the Balance (Hidden in Plain Sight series) for Jan. 1st release; Set up my social media posts through December on Loomly.
My wish list: That amazing bit of happenstance that will propel my writing into notice, continued health for my family (one husband, four cats, extended folks), and inspired writing.