All posts for the month May, 2011

Constantly emergent.

Published May 28, 2011 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I am making a concentrated effort to make my brain wake up.

I have spent the last few days in a kind of numb, but non-purple, haze. I am trying to meet a deadline and I actually have a pretty good idea and the confidence that I will be able to write something worthy.

So here I am on my writing couch, with my writing background noise with my writing clothing, and just finished my writing beverage and my brain will just not wake up.

(For those of you playing the home game, the couch is actually a corner section of long since deceased modular unit, Law and Order SVU is on, I’m wearing pajama bottoms, old sweat socks and an ancient pocket t-shirt.  The shirt is ancient, so I guess the pocket is, too.  I had an iced coffee that was inferior because I made it myself.  Prepared it that is, I didn’t actually grow and gather the beans. )

Part of my procrastination process involves reading my email and I was delighted, nay, thrilled to discover that Kobo books is having a sale.  I investigated this and stumbled upon this:

The Tell-Tale Brain: A Neuroscientist’s Quest for What Makes Us Human

By V. S. Ramachandran

V. S. Ramachandran is at the forefront of his field-so much so that Richard Dawkins dubbed him the “Marco Polo of neuroscience.” Now, in a major new work, Ramachandran sets his sights on the mystery of human uniqueness. Taking us to the frontiers of neurology, he reveals what baffling and extreme case studies can teach us about normal brain function and how it evolved. Synesthesia becomes a window into the brain mechanisms that make some of us more creative than others. And autism—for which Ramachandran opens a new direction for treatment—gives us a glimpse of the aspect of being human that we understand least: self-awareness. Ramachandran tackles the most exciting and controversial topics in neurology with a storyteller’s eye for compelling case studies and a researcher’s flair for new approaches to age-old questions. Tracing the strange links between neurology and behavior, this book unveils a wealth of clues into the deepest mysteries of the human brain

I love knowledge, especially brain knowledge. I think I am just trying to stay one step ahead, just in case there’s another attack in my future.

Ok, now I’m up.

What do you say?

Published May 25, 2011 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

” The only constant in life is change”  Thus spaketh the poor misguided sap who wrote the play, Black River Traders, one of the two plays that chronicalizes the history of Farmington, New Mexico. (Waiting for Guffman isn’t funny when it’s you.)

There is a permanent divot in my psyche from the Outdoor Summer Musical Drama and Dinner Theater run by the dogs and ponies of the Sandstone Production team. (I should have known better than to audition for a production that has most of the adjectives I hate in front of the word “Theatre”.  The only good thing that came out of that monstrosity is meeting my friend Merritt.

Anyway, the character I played in that horror was “Wife of White Eagle.”   The line about change has remained with me, always in Dave Huber’s voice.

The environment around me is changing, and not just the tornadoes and other signs that the planet is trying to eject us like a bad cow heart.  There is considerable upheaval in my world, but after watching my best friend literally wither away and die last year, I’m kind of numb.  I care, but kind of feel as if I’ve already witnessed the end of the world, so what else can happen?

Unfortunately, Katboy, the Kid and my cohorts think I’m being pessimistic about my role in the immediate future.

I think there is a fine line between pessimism and being prepared for the worst.

So in an effort to salt things away in my mental disaster preparedness kit, I’m actively working on a new system of, well, working.

I keep asking myself the question, is anyone really interested in what I have to say, or am I yet another rambling fool with a laptop and wi-fi?

Desperately Seeking Something . . .

Published May 24, 2011 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I am tired. Really, really tired.  Today was the last full day of classes and everyone’s brain had checked out at least two days ago.

I am working on improving my work ethic.  At least, my self-motivation.

It’s really hard for me at shift gears from teaching to writing especially right now (write now?) at the end of the school year when I need to be compiling grades and writing tasteful and constructive comments on my students’ report cards.

This is not as easy as it sounds.

My work environment is less than stable right now. ( Good thing I’m not a horse! I’m a little funny.)

I have a lot of work to clean up as a part of my third career.  ( For those of you playing the home game, career number 1, Theatrical Producer, for fun and very little profit. Career number2, teacher. Career number 3, writer.)

I do realize how incredibly lucky I am to have or have had the opportunities that I have.  I can’t think of anything more boring than someone droning on about how perfect their life is.

A professor I had in grad school said that plays are not written about the day everything went ok.

So my problem (yes, the ONE problem) is that I am trying to pull myself together and wrap my tired and addled brain around writing in a new and more lucrative genre(What?!!! More lucrative than NO genre?!! Surely you joke.) whilst also forcing myself to clean up and re-edit my second first draft (No, that is not a math error, although I can see why that would be an assumption.)  I also need to brush up on my basic grammar skills.

I am also creating a cache of potential characters.

There is an obvious play on words, but that’s not exactly what I ‘m looking for right now.

What prompted that?

Published May 22, 2011 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

After a remarkably hectic week, I am almost back to what passes for normal.   I am incredibly bummed out that my job, my chores and other stuff has kept me too busy to play with my Xbox.   Really. I have two new dance games that I want to play, one even has an attack mode, and while that does bring to mind me of the time in dance class when Eric Edwards, who has even less coordination than I do, kicked enthusiastically in the wrong direction and wound up kicking me in the stomach, I am curious to see what other people call an attack mode.

I did indeed get my short story edited and submitted for the Writer’s Digest thing.  I have discovered that I am extremely lazy about writing unless I have a deadline.

I love writing, and sometimes it comes very easy.  I’m generally brain dead after school, but now with the semester ending  I will have to re-program myself so that I will “Free the beast”.

For reasons I can not yet disclose, (and I do find that ridiculous that I have things that I can NOT disclose, I’m not a PI or an agent or even someone with any real importance),  I am looking into free lance writing work selling short stories.

I am exploring new genres.  I know that sounds odd, it sounds even odder to do.  I know that there are genres far out of my comfort zone, not for any ethical reasons.  Ethics went fleeing out of the window when I was in grad school.  I do refuse to write paranormal romance.

Please, please, please, spare me from romantic vampires, lusty werewolves, and horny zombies.

I do have an idea of a yet untapped market of horror movie heroes, but that’s a secret for a while.

So now I am boning up on the romance genre (pun intended).  I do plan on Mystery Science Theatering myself as much as possible whilst I wade through steamy fantasies the likes of which I haven’t read since High School.

I just downloaded an ebook from the library. It is a Zebra historical romance, just like the kind I had a penchant for two decades ago.

The romantic hero is  The Earl of Carne.


That’s almost as good as the name of the character Lorenzo Lamas played on Falcon Crest, “Lance Cumson.”

Desperately seeking genre

Published May 9, 2011 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

Any ideas how I should classify this?

Here’s part II

 Both Sides. Now. Continued

“Well, no, but . . . “

“But someone was in terrible danger, it’s just this one time, and isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? “

“Well, yeah?”

I had no idea what was going on.  The man pulled out what looked like a blackberry and started punching buttons. He made the face that my dad makes when he’s trying not to kill me and said,

“ Well, it’s too late to send her back, she’ll have to stay until we can figure out when no one will notice the switch.”

I was starting to get annoyed.

“ Why do you keep talking about me like I’m not here?  And what the hell is going on?”

The man turned to me and smiled weakly.

“I’m so sorry, my dear. This must be very confusing.”

No duh.  He continued.

“ A few minutes ago, Daniel and his cohort Cassidy saw you in a situation that they perceived as perilous.”

“ I don’t really remember.”

“ Don’t worry, we can look at through the monitor.”

“Monitor? What’s going on here?”

The boy looked over at me.

“ Me and Cassidy were watching you and something bad was going to happen.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. The man punched something on his hand held and images appeared on the wall.  Holograms, like in Star Wars.  It was me, running down the street in my socks, a man in a wool coat chasing me.  I was right in front of the Library when the man reached out or me.

Then I disappeared.

I watched in disbelief as I reappeared, facing the man.  I watched myself punch him in the chest, causing him to fall.

Then I looked down at my socks, then back at the hologram.  I was wearing boots.

“That’s not me.”

The man smiled at me, shaking his head.

“No, it’s not.”

“Seriously, what’s going on?”

Just then, a truly gorgeous blonde walked in.

She smiled.

“Daniel, they want you back in class.”

The man turned Daniel towards the door and gave him a not so gentle nudge.

“Thank you, Jay, he’ll be right there.”

My feet were starting to get cold and since no one seemed willing to come right out and tell me what was going on, I  said,

“ Could I get some dry socks and maybe some shoes?”

The man turned back to me.

“Of course, darling.”

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I get that a lot. I guess I just have one of those faces.”

It was unsettling.  He  looked so familiar, and so had the blonde.  Maybe I was having one of those bizarre dreams where everyone you’ve ever met makes a cameo appearance.

He led me to what looked like the best living room ever, with big comfy couches and bean bags everywhere.  I sat down and the blonde came back with a pair of fuzzy slipper socks like the ones I had at home.  She was dazzling.

“Um, did we go to elementary school together?”

She blushed and ducked her head saying, “No, I don’t think so.”

“You just look. . . “

“I know.”

This was starting to get creepy.

She left as the man cleared his throat.

A year ago

Published May 8, 2011 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

A year ago today my best friend, Steve Garrett, said the last thing ever said to me.

He said, “Sniffles?”

This was in response to my trying to hide my tears as I was waiting for The Kid to bring him some ice chips.

Feeding Steve ice chips was the last thing I ever did with him.

Last Mother’s Day, the first thing I did was sign Steve’s DNR papers.

Then I went all Terms of Endearment on The Kid because he wasn’t moving fast enough whilst getting the ice chips.

He didn’t seem to understand that a few minutes is forever when you only have a few hours with someone.

I don’t think he has only recently come to understand that part of being a parent as well as being a good friend is wanting to protect your loved ones and get them whatever they want when they feel bad.

It’s why I will fish out the carrot cubes and questionable chicken in the soup so that The Kid can have noodle water, because that’s all he really likes in Chicken Noodle soup.

It’s why I will try not to cry because it will make my friend sad.

I miss my friend.

target the insanity

Published May 7, 2011 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I just got back from Target.  I know, the day before Mother’s Day. I was at Wal-mart earlier. (Hell was full.)

My receipt bears witness (Witness Bears, for a limited time only?) to my descent into madness:

XBox 360 Kinnect Bundle

Three year warranty for XBOX

Three month XBox live gold membership

Capri PJ bottoms printed with monkey faces

2 huge bras (they were having a huge bra sale)

Two pairs of panty hose (costume for Thursday)

Two pairs of falsie holders ( costume for Thursday)

One bottle of Ballatore Spumante (The Kid is coming over for a Mother’s Day drink)

Dunkin’ Donuts Toasted Almond Flavor Coffee

Hebrew National hot dogs

Whole wheat flatbread

I can’t believe it’s not butter spray.

Imagine the possibilities