Putting it Out There

I have been reading a lot lately about people who "put it out there". They wish for something or pray for something. They put out their wishes and wants and needs to the universe and wait for the response from God or the gods and it appears. I am not really sure how to put it out there. I guess I will blog about it.

I want to take a class on how to dance like they do in the musicals. I do not necessarily need to be on stage. I do not want to sing while I do it. I just want to move my body the way Meryl Streep does in Momma Mia. I want to do it to the beat of fun music and I want to do it with other people.

Years ago when I was a grad assistant at Collins, the students entered a dance competition called IU SING. The students choreographed two numbers. One was to Iko Iko and the other was to the Banana Boat song. (You know, Hey Mr. Talley Man talley me bananas). I joined them for rehearsals and performed at the competition and I enjoyed every minute of it.

So if I could design the class myself it would be someone who teaches us fun dances to fun familiar musical songs and we just dance them over and over until we get it right. Then we come back the next time and do it again. I've been searching different local organizations and cannot find much of a class that fits this description. Does anyone have any ideas?

What was your best summer read?

I am interested to hear what you read this summer? The best? The Worst?

Best Summer Read: Lost on Planet China by Maarten Troost

Maarten Troost wrote a great travel memoir a few years ago called The Sex Lives of Cannibals. It chronicled the two years he lived on a remote South Sea Island. Nothing I would ever want to do after reading his book. It sounded awful, but it was a fun read.

My husband picked up Lost on Planet China and I read it this summer very quickly. Our intrepid traveler spent a few months wondering around that enigmatic country known as China.

He is funny, thought provoking and simply a master at translating his own experiences to meaningful tales for the armchair traveler. You'll laugh; you'll cry; you'll want to run out and learn Mandarin.

Liquid Jade

I became a fan of tea because of two very special friends. I must admit, my drink of preference is coffee and my second choice is dry red wine. But for the sheer enjoyment of company and slowing down and feeling at peace, I am glad I discovered tea.

I have been to several tea shoppes, tea houses, tea parties and afternoon teas at fancy hotels. I am always carried away by the utter civility of it all. So this book caught my eye at the library a few weeks ago: Liquid Jade: The Story of Tea from East to West by Beatrice Hohenegger.

It is not a fast read, but Ms Hohenegger has many small chapters on the history of tea which have interesting tales about tea and its discovery and importance in the East and its arrival and importance in the west.

Here are a few nuggets from this fun history of tea:


*Lu Yu the tea sage wrote, "Drinking tea is an act of consciousness and a celebration of life."

*The Bodhidahrma first intertwined tea and meditation.

*A sincere heart is at the center of tea.

*In merry old England tea is credited with generating an early feminist movement.

I am off to brew a cuppa. Enjoy!

Wanted: A Transgendered Hero

This evening I was at a local cafe, enjoying a latte before I left for a writing circle that I was facilitating. I was reading and generally mulling over life when the owner of the cafe who happens to be a transgendered person (A man who dresses like a woman.) came over and started a conversation with me.

Somehow it came out that I was a writer and she quickly told me that she had a great idea for a novel, and would I write it?

"What is that?" I ask.

"Someone needs to write a novel where the hero is transgendered. All transgendered people in the movies or in books are weirdos or killers or evil. You need to write something that shows us in a positive light."

She quickly went away to bus some tables, but she had me thinking... are there positive images of transgendered people in the movies? Certainly there must be some. I offered Dustin Hoffman as Tootsie.

"Doesn't count," she said when she returned. "Dorothea wasn't really trans. Dustin Hoffman was playing a woman to get a job. Same with Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire. It can't be a comedy. It has to be a real hero hero."

We paddled around a few other famous transgendered movie roles, but none of them fit my new friend's definition of positive role model and hero.

So now I am trying to decide how I would write this character. I would need to ask a lot of questions of transgendered people and find out exactly what's going on when they choose to don the clothing of another sex.

I told my friend that she should write the novel. She told me she couldn't write at all, and she was content to let it be my mission. Help me! I am stuck on a transgendered detective in a series of mystery novels. What sort of novel would you write if you were asked to tell a story of a transgendered hero?

Memoir -vs- Anti-memoir

I spent the better part of this past week reading two very compelling memoirs. The first was a slash and burn take no prisoners account of Marya Hornbacher's 10 year struggle with Anorexia and Bulimia called Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia. Her stories of dieting down to a mere 52 pounds and ignoring all of the humans who wanted to help her was positively gruesome. The pleasure in reading was in the voyeurism of it all. What horrifying act can we watch the author perform this time? How can she further degrade her already abused body? Or better yet--How is it that she is so different than me?

It left me feeling sort of sick--the literary equivalent of watching the ambulance race up to a bad car wreck. In fact, many memoirs leave me with that same feeling: I read this because these true stories of other people's lives are so hideous and chilling that I can't help but look and read.

I did stumble across another memoir this week and the author--the child of a celebrity has chosen to call it an anti-memoir. I suppose because it is not really about an awful life. I am not reading it becuase it is horrifying and over the top, I am reading it because it is well written and actually this man could be like me or any one of my friends. He has normal friends and small problems and he writes about them with sincerity and pathos and they are interspersed with his tales of growing up with a celebrity dad. I am surprised at how much good writing and real life tales actually are more enjoyable than the terrifying ones.

This is not a daddy dearest tell all, this is not stories of his horrible addictions or wanton life. This is just a dad who has written an anti-memoir. A story for the rest of us.

So please go to the library and check out: My Incredibly Wonderful, Miserable Life: an anti-memoir by Adam Nimoy (that's right, Mr. Spock's son)

Why I love the Library

I have made good use of my public library over these past few months.

When I hear about a good book on the radio or via a fellow reader, I go immediately to the on-line card catalog at the library. I find it and place a request. The library notifies me when it is ready and waiting at the circulation desk. I have a running list of about 10 books and every few days I get a note in my email in-box that the book I want is ready.

It has been a good habit to get into this summer. I have spent a lot less on books at Borders and enjoyed them just as much. The library has a more varied and older selection so when I started to feel the need to take a look at Wendell Berry stories and essays, I did not have to buy them all to figure out I only wanted one or two of them.

Viva the library!