Well, after years of saying I'm a writer, I've finally finished a book and have published it at Smashwords and Kindle through Sage Wind Publishing.
I'm very excited. I am only two or three chapters away from finishing the second book in the Trillium Trilogy. Telling Tree, the first. Once on a Blue Moon, the second. Under the Trillium Sea, is the third.
It only took working less days to be able to get things moving along. Editing takes time, but it is exciting to see things actually reach where the baby can move out into the world and leave home and live as a separate entity from now on.
Hope you are all doing well, and have a wonderful new year.
1.15.2014
12.15.2012
WRITING AGAIN
I am writing again.
For the past couple of months. So many times I've started a novel and life interrupts. I would just get into the middle of it and going good and something happens that knocks me off track.
In the last few years, I am working fewer days a week, which allows me more time to actually spend a good amount of time writing.
I picked up a book I had started about 12 years ago, and thought I'd just read through what was there and see where that took me. I had stopped at chapter 19, but could remember the over all ideas and jumped right back into it.
The rest of the first draft is done TELLING TREEand I am starting on the sequel ONCE ON A BLUE MOON Some very good friends, and my kids, are reading the first draft so when I get those back, I'll go through it one more time, then put it on my Web Site. WWW.lindamcgeary.com
11.17.2011
DOING NOTHING
There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want
Bill Watterson
Calvin and Hobbes
It has been two years since I wrote last.
Many things have happened.
The mystery of time, how two years can sound so long and go so fast.
I've had the flash of an urge to write on the blog, but that's all it has been over these past many months. I've just recovered from a bad cold and my energy is back up and I'm feeling good. It makes me grateful to be alive and moving.
The sun is shinning out side my store window and the cool crisp scent of fall is in the air, with winter just around the Corner. Customers preparing for the coming snows are in buying books so they can do nothing in comfort. (Some people think reading is doing nothing, some of us think it is much more than that)
This time of year often makes me want to curl up with my computer and write, and do nothing else for a while. Gather my thoughts, spin story wool, and make gold of it... if I can. I have so many stops and starts, I wonder if transformation will ever happen, and a satisfying ending find me. (A novel) No matter the outcome, I still have the impulse to write.
This weekend I'm going to cloister myself and attempt to restart.
At least I'm back on the blog doing nothing.
Bill Watterson
Calvin and Hobbes
It has been two years since I wrote last.
Many things have happened.
The mystery of time, how two years can sound so long and go so fast.
I've had the flash of an urge to write on the blog, but that's all it has been over these past many months. I've just recovered from a bad cold and my energy is back up and I'm feeling good. It makes me grateful to be alive and moving.
The sun is shinning out side my store window and the cool crisp scent of fall is in the air, with winter just around the Corner. Customers preparing for the coming snows are in buying books so they can do nothing in comfort. (Some people think reading is doing nothing, some of us think it is much more than that)
This time of year often makes me want to curl up with my computer and write, and do nothing else for a while. Gather my thoughts, spin story wool, and make gold of it... if I can. I have so many stops and starts, I wonder if transformation will ever happen, and a satisfying ending find me. (A novel) No matter the outcome, I still have the impulse to write.
This weekend I'm going to cloister myself and attempt to restart.
At least I'm back on the blog doing nothing.
9.21.2009
DEMENTIA
"THE MAP IS NOT THE TERRITORY"
Alfred Korzbybsk
Some people think they have their lives mapped out for themselves, then an unfamiliar landscape rises up and changes the map.
That is what has happened in my sisters life.
She worked as a legal secretary, now days called paralegal. She was very good at her job. She always had a very precise mind. Neat and orderly. A place for everything and everything in it's place.
Lois has always taken great pains to order her life and surroundings in a way that gave her control over them.
She is a very Private person.
I'm sixteen years younger and have always thought of her as my elegant sister. She has style! Even now, when she isn't feeling well, she is up and dressed, her hair perfect, lipstick on. You get the picture. Her look is very important to her.
I've always said, "You could wear a gunny sack, and still look stylish, I don't know how you do that?"
We are moving her up to Bend to assisted living. A very nice place just a few streets away from where we live and where our in town brother works. As I wrote before, it is very hard to be making these decisions for someone else, but that responsibility has basically fallen to me, with the moral support from the rest of the family, I'm doing my best for her. I want her to be as comfortable as possible.
Dementia is not something I'd ever read up on before, no reason, until now...
We still don't know what this will mean for her immediate future, or even the long run, but we know her life map has changed, and that right now she needs help.
She ask me last week, "When you lose pieces of your mind, where do they go?"
I didn't have an answer.
Alfred Korzbybsk
Some people think they have their lives mapped out for themselves, then an unfamiliar landscape rises up and changes the map.
That is what has happened in my sisters life.
She worked as a legal secretary, now days called paralegal. She was very good at her job. She always had a very precise mind. Neat and orderly. A place for everything and everything in it's place.
Lois has always taken great pains to order her life and surroundings in a way that gave her control over them.
She is a very Private person.
I'm sixteen years younger and have always thought of her as my elegant sister. She has style! Even now, when she isn't feeling well, she is up and dressed, her hair perfect, lipstick on. You get the picture. Her look is very important to her.
I've always said, "You could wear a gunny sack, and still look stylish, I don't know how you do that?"
We are moving her up to Bend to assisted living. A very nice place just a few streets away from where we live and where our in town brother works. As I wrote before, it is very hard to be making these decisions for someone else, but that responsibility has basically fallen to me, with the moral support from the rest of the family, I'm doing my best for her. I want her to be as comfortable as possible.
Dementia is not something I'd ever read up on before, no reason, until now...
We still don't know what this will mean for her immediate future, or even the long run, but we know her life map has changed, and that right now she needs help.
She ask me last week, "When you lose pieces of your mind, where do they go?"
I didn't have an answer.
9.02.2009
CHOICES
Fear Not.
What is not real, never was and never will be.
What is real, always was and cannot be destroyed.
Bhagavad Gita
Another sleepless night.
A few weeks ago my sister, who lives alone in San Francisco, hurt her back. I was in Portland visiting our sons when I got the call that she needed me right away. I fly down from PDX and arrive in an hour and a half. She was in a lot of pain and on pain meds, not very cogent in the middle of the night when I arrive. Pain meds make you loopy.
I spend two days lining up in-home service care. One twelve hour shift a day. Hugely expensive. I think twelve hours should be enough as she will be sleeping most of the other twelve hours. When I get home and call the care giver, I discover in talking to her that is not going to be enough. So another twelve hour shift is added.
Fortunately, my sister has been frugal all her life and invested well and has a good retirement and insurances, but in home service care is not sustainable on a long term basis. I'm her executor and power of attorney in case of death or incapacity. Health and financial.
You say yes to this sort of thing because of love, wanting to set their minds at ease, never thinking what kinds of choices you may have to make for them when and if a break in health comes before death.
I never knew how hard it would be to make those choices. Is this the best thing for her, physically, financially, emotionally? I have all the necessary paper work, but what is right for her?
She has agreed to move up here to Independent or Assisted living if her health doesn't allow for a return to Independent living any more, but this has been the most difficult decisions I've ever had to make on behalf of someone else. Where to move her to, how to change over the insurance coverage. Finding another Doctor.
I know I'm not the first to go through all this, but it's the first time I've had to.
I want to make choices she can live with comfortably and that I can live with too, where ever that takes us.
In moments of panic, I think, I'm the baby sister, what do I know? How can I do this? Why did I say yes?
Then I think, its an adventure. (Duncan reminds me.) Like the river rafting trip. Not all quiet waters. O.K. I suppose some of it can be fun. (Once it's over, and she is living up here just a few minuets away at Aspen Ridge.)
So why all this being awake in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep. Searching the Internet for answers.
Love!
Wanting to make a positive difference in her life.
The one real thing.
What is not real, never was and never will be.
What is real, always was and cannot be destroyed.
Bhagavad Gita
Another sleepless night.
A few weeks ago my sister, who lives alone in San Francisco, hurt her back. I was in Portland visiting our sons when I got the call that she needed me right away. I fly down from PDX and arrive in an hour and a half. She was in a lot of pain and on pain meds, not very cogent in the middle of the night when I arrive. Pain meds make you loopy.
I spend two days lining up in-home service care. One twelve hour shift a day. Hugely expensive. I think twelve hours should be enough as she will be sleeping most of the other twelve hours. When I get home and call the care giver, I discover in talking to her that is not going to be enough. So another twelve hour shift is added.
Fortunately, my sister has been frugal all her life and invested well and has a good retirement and insurances, but in home service care is not sustainable on a long term basis. I'm her executor and power of attorney in case of death or incapacity. Health and financial.
You say yes to this sort of thing because of love, wanting to set their minds at ease, never thinking what kinds of choices you may have to make for them when and if a break in health comes before death.
I never knew how hard it would be to make those choices. Is this the best thing for her, physically, financially, emotionally? I have all the necessary paper work, but what is right for her?
She has agreed to move up here to Independent or Assisted living if her health doesn't allow for a return to Independent living any more, but this has been the most difficult decisions I've ever had to make on behalf of someone else. Where to move her to, how to change over the insurance coverage. Finding another Doctor.
I know I'm not the first to go through all this, but it's the first time I've had to.
I want to make choices she can live with comfortably and that I can live with too, where ever that takes us.
In moments of panic, I think, I'm the baby sister, what do I know? How can I do this? Why did I say yes?
Then I think, its an adventure. (Duncan reminds me.) Like the river rafting trip. Not all quiet waters. O.K. I suppose some of it can be fun. (Once it's over, and she is living up here just a few minuets away at Aspen Ridge.)
So why all this being awake in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep. Searching the Internet for answers.
Love!
Wanting to make a positive difference in her life.
The one real thing.
8.21.2009
GOOD INTENTIONS
"You know what they say about good intentions? Hell is paved with them."
Unknown
My father used to say this. I've heard it all my life in one form or another.
I'm a procrastinator, that's true, and I always have good intentions, but I hope it doesn't earn me hell.
What can I say? It's been a busy summer.
I've been to Portland last weekend and am going again this weekend. Todd, our oldest son and his girl, Sarah, and her sister Jessica, and their mother, Mary, and I went whitewater rafting on the Salmon river in WA., just across from Hood River.
That was really fun.
All of us.
Jess, in front, left side Sarah, right side Todd, left side Mary, and me with the green sleeves. And our guide in back.
The last time I went down a river like this was 12 or 13 years ago. I hadn't really planned to do it again... but there you have it. I didn't procrastinate long enough and had to wiggled into one of those ridicules looking wet suits, and booties and had a cold, wet, fun time. It was great!
The river had mainly class 2, 3, and 4 rapids. Todd and Sarah went down the big scary one, a 14 foot drop off rated a class 5. The rest of us begged off and were set ashore and walked down and watched them come over. They went completely under, but popped right back up.
We all got back in and finished the trip.
Even though the rapids were fun and it was a hot day, and getting splashed with cold water was a relief now and then, my favorite were the lazier slower times, when you didn't have to paddle and could look around. (Did I mention how sore the muscles you seldom use are at the end of this three hour ride?)
Most of the Salmon River is the remains of an old lave tube. So the rock formations were interesting and the flora and Fawne were beautiful. Especially the escaped cows from a nearby farm, that had moseyed down to the river for a drink of cold water.
The guide was a crack up, he kept telling us these outrageous stories, then he'd say, "Well, not really, I was just making that up, but..." and he was off again. We got tired of saying, "Really?" It became more like, "Really!" Or "I don't believe a word you say!"
"Do you write?" I ask, after the story about the Squirrel Bridge, "You should," I said, "You're a natural born storyteller."
He said he did write, actually, when he wasn't on the river, which he grew up on, (if you can believe that). His parents were river guides also.
The memory of this day of fun with family and friends will be with me for a long time, the sore muscles only lasted a few days. I'm ready to go again...well, maybe in a year... or ten. Maybe in a kayak, with no rapids, just a lazy float. Smile.
Toby, our youngest son, had to work most of the weekend, so I'm going back to spend time with Toby and Lisa this weekend.
I'm taking the game Settlers of Catan, maybe we can just have a quite weekend, go to Forest Park and walk the dogs, Sophie and Sasha.
That would suit me just fine, now that the aches are gone.
Unknown
My father used to say this. I've heard it all my life in one form or another.
I'm a procrastinator, that's true, and I always have good intentions, but I hope it doesn't earn me hell.
What can I say? It's been a busy summer.
I've been to Portland last weekend and am going again this weekend. Todd, our oldest son and his girl, Sarah, and her sister Jessica, and their mother, Mary, and I went whitewater rafting on the Salmon river in WA., just across from Hood River.
That was really fun.
All of us.
Jess, in front, left side Sarah, right side Todd, left side Mary, and me with the green sleeves. And our guide in back.
The last time I went down a river like this was 12 or 13 years ago. I hadn't really planned to do it again... but there you have it. I didn't procrastinate long enough and had to wiggled into one of those ridicules looking wet suits, and booties and had a cold, wet, fun time. It was great!
The river had mainly class 2, 3, and 4 rapids. Todd and Sarah went down the big scary one, a 14 foot drop off rated a class 5. The rest of us begged off and were set ashore and walked down and watched them come over. They went completely under, but popped right back up.
We all got back in and finished the trip.
Even though the rapids were fun and it was a hot day, and getting splashed with cold water was a relief now and then, my favorite were the lazier slower times, when you didn't have to paddle and could look around. (Did I mention how sore the muscles you seldom use are at the end of this three hour ride?)
Most of the Salmon River is the remains of an old lave tube. So the rock formations were interesting and the flora and Fawne were beautiful. Especially the escaped cows from a nearby farm, that had moseyed down to the river for a drink of cold water.
The guide was a crack up, he kept telling us these outrageous stories, then he'd say, "Well, not really, I was just making that up, but..." and he was off again. We got tired of saying, "Really?" It became more like, "Really!" Or "I don't believe a word you say!"
"Do you write?" I ask, after the story about the Squirrel Bridge, "You should," I said, "You're a natural born storyteller."
He said he did write, actually, when he wasn't on the river, which he grew up on, (if you can believe that). His parents were river guides also.
The memory of this day of fun with family and friends will be with me for a long time, the sore muscles only lasted a few days. I'm ready to go again...well, maybe in a year... or ten. Maybe in a kayak, with no rapids, just a lazy float. Smile.
Toby, our youngest son, had to work most of the weekend, so I'm going back to spend time with Toby and Lisa this weekend.
I'm taking the game Settlers of Catan, maybe we can just have a quite weekend, go to Forest Park and walk the dogs, Sophie and Sasha.
That would suit me just fine, now that the aches are gone.
8.05.2009
IMPOSSIBLE THINGS
"There's no use trying," she said: "one can't believe impossible things."
"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
Lewis Carroll
I had to laugh, even though I'm thinking of children in general, my nieces in specific, this quote also makes me think of politicians and corporations. They ask us to believe impossible things all the time. (And we do.)
That can be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on what is motivating them and us to believe impossible things. The greed factor is still so high in the U.S. right now.
But that is not what I want to talk about this morning.
I choose to believe the impossible in a different way. Like writing a fantasy poem for my nieces. (Which you will find on my poetry blog.) Or writing anything that doesn't consist of facts only.
One would think that believing in anything fiction would certainly encompass the impossible, but facts don't always hold the truth, and sometimes fiction, impossible fiction, has more truth embedded in it than, "Just the facts, Mam, just the facts."
But if we didn't believe in impossible things, we would never write anything, or create anything, or discover anything or invent anything. Soloving the impossible is the lure to the human heart and mind that keeps us moving forward.
I just talked to my brother, Lee, this morning. They are back home now and relaxing from they long journey.
It was so good to see them. And I'm believing the impossible when I say I'm going to see them next year.
"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
Lewis Carroll
I had to laugh, even though I'm thinking of children in general, my nieces in specific, this quote also makes me think of politicians and corporations. They ask us to believe impossible things all the time. (And we do.)
That can be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on what is motivating them and us to believe impossible things. The greed factor is still so high in the U.S. right now.
But that is not what I want to talk about this morning.
I choose to believe the impossible in a different way. Like writing a fantasy poem for my nieces. (Which you will find on my poetry blog.) Or writing anything that doesn't consist of facts only.
One would think that believing in anything fiction would certainly encompass the impossible, but facts don't always hold the truth, and sometimes fiction, impossible fiction, has more truth embedded in it than, "Just the facts, Mam, just the facts."
But if we didn't believe in impossible things, we would never write anything, or create anything, or discover anything or invent anything. Soloving the impossible is the lure to the human heart and mind that keeps us moving forward.
I just talked to my brother, Lee, this morning. They are back home now and relaxing from they long journey.
It was so good to see them. And I'm believing the impossible when I say I'm going to see them next year.
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