HOW THE WEST WAS WIPED

Didn’t watch the Super Bowl last night…

(although I did watch some of the commercials this morning)

Instead…

I watched a few episodes of Into the West on Netflix.

It’s an amazing mini series of how two families…

One white, the other Native American…

Become mingled through the momentous events…

Of American expansion.

And while watching the story unfold…

And how arduous, dangerous, and often tragic…

Their life was…

All I kept wondering about was toilet paper.

OK, when the settlers were in the woods…

There were possibilities…

But on the plains?

With nary a tree in sight?

Or in the snowy mountains with pine trees?

Um, what did they use?

So while I believe I could survive…

On beans, bacon, bread, and dried fruit for a year…

I would not survive one day…

Without toilet paper.

And that got me thinking of paper.

I think paper is one of the most important…

If not THE most important…

Inventions of modern man.

Because I wouldn’t want to be in a world…

That didn’t have paper that I could write on…

And books made of paper that I could read…

And most definitely…

A bathroom without paper to…

Well, you get the picture.

So?

What do you think the most important invention…

Of modern man is?

Always, Em-Musing

DON''T MIND MY GAMES

My mind likes to play tricks on me…

Like seeing words that aren’t there.
For instance, yesterday…
I was researching ‘capitalizations’ on Google…
And this web-site came up:
‘Capitalization after colons’
But what my mind saw was:
Capitalizing after colonoscopies.
Say what?
Is that like now that your colon is clean...
it's a good time to have booty sex?
Knowing my mind plays these tricks…
I stared at the phrase…
Until the real phrase became clear. Duh. 
My mind does this all the time.
Here’s another instance…
Down the street from my house...
Is an Orgasmic Yoga center. Not.
What the sign really says is, Organic Yoga.
But I always see Orgasmic Yoga. Cool concept though. 
And to think…
I used to do voiceovers for a living…
Thankfully, I usually got the script ahead of time…
But sometimes when I didn’t…
I’d be interrupted by the engineer in the booth…
Who’d say, “That sounded great, Leigh…
But I have no idea what you just said.”
Also…
When I’m talking…
I’ll often think of two or more similar words…
Like dove and jump…
And I guess my mind can’t pick which word to use…
So I’ll wind up saying something like...
I dumped in the pool.”
Realizing that sounded stupid I’d then say...
“Sorry, I meant to say, I jove in the pool.”
People look at me like, whaa?
I also talk in half-speech…
Like not finishing a sentence…
Expecting the listener to finish it in their head.
Again, people look at me and go, huh?
But then…
My sisters and cousins all do it too…
Maybe it's a rogue speech gene?
So?
Anyone else with a practical joke kind of mind?
Do you know what this trickster affliction is?
Have a great weekend.

Always, Em-Musing

STINKY, SWEATY BOOKS

Yesterday in Playa del Carmen…

I strolled the book section…

Of a department store called Liverpool...

I didn’t expect to buy anything…

Because all the books are in Spanish…

But even so, I like to look at the cover art…

And then…

*heart races*

I came upon a measly little orphaned shelf…

With some books—in English!

And they were current!

There was John Grisham…

Tom Clancy…

David Baldacci…

Nicholas Sparks…

Anne Rice…

Even Jodi Picoult.

SQUEE!!!

Now mind you…

I have devices to read e-books…

And I understand the convenience of e-readers…

And how many books I can store on them…

(and I have)

But still…

It’s not the same as…

Being drawn in by the book’s cover art…

Picking the book up…

Reading the back cover blurb…

And then…

Smelling the book.

(hope the security cameras didn’t catch that)

Kindle, Nook, Kobo Glo and all other e-readers…

May change the way people read books…

But they can’t change the way I feel about books.

And really…

What do e-readers smell like?

Stinky, sweaty palms?

So?

Ever sniff a book?

If you have an e-reader…

Have you ever sniffed it?

Always, Em-Musing

BOOK KILL

Saw a dead dog on the highway…

Which made me think of agents.

Oh, wait…

That doesn’t sound good…

Actually, seeing the dog got me thinking…

That even though there are deer here in Mexico…

I’ve never seen a dead one on the highway.

I guess they don’t go running out in front of cars…

Like they do back in the States...

They stay in their own habitat...

Because the jaguars and pumas...

Keep their population in check...

And that’s what got me thinking about agents…

And publishing houses too..

You see….

Just like big cats...

Agents and editors keep mediocre…

Or worse—the real stinker books in check.

Well, they used to…

Now anyone can print anything.

Is that a good thing?

Is an over population of books…

As bad as an over population of deer?

Is keeping the book herd thin best?

Oh, hell…

I don’t know.

It was a bad night tossing and turning.

Before I fell asleep last night…

I had asked my muse…

To come up with a post for my blog today…

And this is what she came up with…

Maybe I need a big cat…

To keep my stinker blogs in check.

Always, Em-Musing

ENERGY FLUX

Jinxes…

Do you believe in them?

Here’s a scenario…

Something good happens…

Like a favorable response to a query…

And you’re requested to send more…

You wanna jump up and down…

Call your family and friends and go, SQUEEE!

But?  

Will your vain enthusiasm…

Jinx the process?

But then…

If you believe in the concept of a divine matrix…

That ALL things are connected…

And one thought, good or bad, can feed off another…

So that if you stay mum…

And act like the response you got was no big deal…

Have you then sent out ‘it’s no big deal’ vibes?

And the matrix honors those ‘it’s no big deal’ vibes…

So that the agent who requested more…

Looks at your submission and goes…

“Eh, this is no big deal.”

And in essence…

You’ve sabotaged your future success…

With your ‘it’s no big deal’ energy vibes.

What do you think?

Do you believe in jinxes?

Or a divine matrix?

How much do you believe energy…

Either positive or negative…

Can dictate your future or success?

And where do you put your energies?

Always, Em-Musing

I HEAR WHO?

“Leigh. Wake up.”
I heard this at 4:29 this morning…

A split second before the alarm went off.
Hmm?
Often, I’ve woken up…
Just minutes or seconds before the alarm…
But never have I heard my name being called.
And who was saying my name?
Was it me calling me?
Or some other entity?
Like a spirit guide?
Have I, they, it  always called my name…
And I just never heard before?
Or was this the fist time?
It’s known we humans have an inner clock…
That operates without us having to do anything.
So? Was my inner clock waking me?
Did it not trust the alarm on my clock would work?
And then I got to wondering…
If my inner clock is communicating with me…
Maybe I can communicate with it…
Maybe at night…
After I say my prayers and before I fall asleep…
I can tell my clock…
"Slow down!
You don’t have to age me so fast.

Or how about rewinding a decade?

Or even just a few years?"
After all, it’s my clock…
Shouldn’t I be able to control it…
Rather than it controlling me?
What about you?
Ever hear voices in the night…
Or anytime of day...
That you can’t identify?
Who or what do you think it is?

Always, Em-Musing

CLEANING FLUID

The other day, I splurged. I hired a cleaning lady…

I should have been thrilled…

But I felt wired…

Like ten cups of coffee and an impending panic attack.

While on one hand (complete with cleaning rag)

I knew this non-cleaning time…

Would be a great time to write and submit.

But on the other hand (with another cleaning rag in it)…

As I sat at my computer to write…

I couldn’t…

I had to see what she was doing…

To make sure she was cleaning ‘my’ way.

I was stealth.

Unfortunately though…

I saw her stiffen each time I stood behind her….

Watching each swipe she made.

Finally, I realized I was stalking her…

So I made a cup of joe…

Went back into my office…

Sat down at my computer…

Turned on the Internet radio...

And took a deep breath and e x h a l e d…

I felt my mind relax, flow.

“Senora, he terminado.”

“What? Oh your done? Great.”

I looked at the clock…

Wow, four hours…

My house was clean.

But more important…

Four queries sent and four pages in my W.I.P.

I know it doesn’t sound like a lot…

But that’s OK.

A process is beginning.

And you?

What do you do to concentrate on writing?

And has your writing been fluid lately?

Always, Em-Musing

I DECLARE WAR!

WAR!

Remember that card game?

Well, I recently played it with my cleaning lady…

But we didn’t play it with cards…

But rather with cleaning products.

Her first time over…

I went over how I like my house cleaned…

I started off with explaining the benefits of a Swiffer…

That, mind you I risked having confiscated….

A few weeks ago at Cancun’s airport customs…

It was after that, that the war began….

Me:  For wet floors, I use a sponge mop.”

She: “I’d rather use a wet mop,”

Me:  “I want you to use these micro fiber cloths.”

She: “I like to use my own rags to wipe things.”

Me:  “I want you to use water, bleach or vinegar…

She: “I like to use Fabuloso. It’s better than your 

       cleaning stuff.”

Me:  Oh, no, no, no! You must never use Fabuloso!”

She: Glared at me like I just pinched her baby

Me:  “My house is not caca or barfy dirty…

       It’s just dusty and dirt dirty…

       It doesn’t need to be disinfected.

       OK, yes, the toilet is icky…

       Then use bleach. But that’s it. ”

She:  “But I’ve always used Fabuloso.”

Me:  “I don’t like chemicals.”  

She: “You can’t be clean without Fabuloso.”

Me:  “Yes you can. And besides, it’ll ruin my floor.”

She: “But all women use Fabuloso.”

Me:  “But I’m not all women.”

She:  Glared at me.

Me:   Glared back.

She:  Glared even harder.

Me:   “Look, this is my house. If you don’t my rules…

        You can—

Whoa!

What was I doing having a stand-off?

Not too many cleaning women speak English…

I could wind up being the loser here if she quit…

And I’d probably have the same stand-off…

With every other cleaning woman.

So…

Perhaps I’ll reconsider some things…

But never, never  my stand on Fabulosa…

Because…

I—Declare—War—on—Fabuloso!

So?

Think I’ve got OCD—Obsessive-Cleaning-Dissorder?

Have you ever been obsessive about something?

What was it?

Always, Em-Musing

SCENTS AND SCENTABILITY

Clean… 

What is it a matter of?

Sight or smell?

Here in Mexico…

There’s a cleaning product called Fabuloso…

Not so fabulous to me…

Besides cleaning dirt off of stuff…

Fabulosa can remove grout…

And take the finish off of natural tile. 

(I’ve seen it happen at the condo I rented) 

This product comes in all sizes…

Even five gallon containers…

And has over twelve different scents.

Hmm?

Having smelled the fumes of Fabuloso everywhere in Mexico…

I wonder…

Is Fabuloso the Mexican idea of what clean smells like?

I know some people think the smell of moth balls is clean.

Me? Oh, yuck! Smells like granny’s closet.

For some, the smell of pine makes them feel clean…

And others, lemons, oranges, and even cucumbers.

And if you’ve ever traveled the Pennsylvania turnpike…

You know what they think clean smells like. Yuck again!

My kind of clean?

I’ve been known to sniff Murphy Oil Soap and get high.

And then I got to wondering even more…

If a clean scent is so important in our lives…

How important is a clean scent in your novels?

Have you ever used a clean scent…

As a major or minor part of a story?

And what about you?

What smell makes you feel clean?

Always, Em-Musing

CHAIR-IRRITABLE EVENT

OK…
I’m settled in my new  house. mostly…
Got my office together, somewhat…
So I seized the day, a few days ago…
And sat down to write and also send out queries.
At end of the day though…
ARRGGHH!
My back was sore…
Really sore.
Why, I wondered?
It’s the same chair I’ve always had…
Same—wait a minute…
The time I’m spending in the chair has changed.
I’m talking seven hours I spent in this chair…
And besides my back being sore…
The circulation in my legs was almost cut off…
And my butt had fallen asleep…
Please don’t ask me to explain…
How a butt can fall asleep, because I can’t. 
(and don’t ask about the sensation when it woke up) 
I then scrutinized my chair…
For heaven’s sake! The seat was mini. 

(trust me, many things are mini-sized here in Mexico) 
I never noticed the seat before…
Probably because I’ve never sat in it…
Long enough to feel pain.
So?
What’s a writer to do?
This writer bought another one and…
Ooooh! Ahhhh! Oh, yeah baby!
If you know the Dinah Washington song… 
 “What A Difference A Day Makes”…
Than you can sing along with my new lyrics.
Here goes… 
What a difference a chair makes…
Sitting hours and writing…
Now my body is delighting…
And there’s no more pain. 
So?
Ever experience a bad chair?
What lengths did you go to remedy it?
Or are you one of those writers…
Who can write anywhere under any circumstance…
In any chair?

Always, Em-Musing