Ithaca’s Literary Festival

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Yesterday, Gayle Callen, Nona Raines, and I drove to the nearby city of Ithaca for the fifth annual Spring Writes — a Finger Lakes Literary Festival. This four-day event is free and is has something for everyone, regardless of genre.Ithaca The first event we attended was on character building. It wasn’t the usual laundry list of character traits/what’s in his medicine cabinet sort of thing of which I was so fond when I first started writing. One of the presenters teaches psychology, and we looked at several different models of defining a personality. The other presenter, Jill Shultz, is also an author, so she was able to tie theory to practical application. Very enjoyable. And I had a “tiffany” about my own current work-in-progress

Ithaca Jill Shultz and Bill Altman

Jill Shultz and Dr. Bill Altman

After the workshop, we wandered to a nearby restaurant to meet up with our friend Ellen Hartman. Walking around Ithaca is a wonderful experience, because it’s such an eclectic city. It is a college town (Cornell and Ithaca College) through and through.     Ithaca Archecture 050314Ithaca Commons 050314

Ithaca Commons 4 050314 Ithaca Commons 03 050314 Ithaca - State Theatre 050314Ithaca Commons 2 050314   Ithaca Building Mosaic

It was a bit of an overcast day, but warm and springlike. The rain held off until we were inside.
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Ithaca is home to an array of quirkiness, such as this doo-ragged statue

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or the electrical boxes painted to resemble apartment buildings.

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After lunch, we followed Ellen to the Community School of Music and Arts. Her talk was in a room that was used by musicians and artists. The furniture was paint spattered. There was lots of wonderful wood.

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Somewhere down the hall, someone practiced piano and someone else was drumming. Her workshop on how to erase cliches from your writing was not only informative, but funny. She has  a delightful sense of humor. We heard the opening pages of several wonderful stories written by the participants.

 

The next event we attended was at  Buffalo Street Books, where a panel of independent bookstore owners discussed the future of bookstores.  I know that might sound a little dry, but it was quite fascinating.  As we were leaving, I spotted a display of some Ellen’s books.

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We all climbed into Ellen’s car so she could drive us to our next destination, Felicia’s Atomic Lounge, where we were treated to several author’s works on adolescent angst. Some of the imagery in the writing was breath-stealing. The sole male who read was so funny, we thought he should be in stand-up comedy.

So we had very full day, and other than our meals, the excursion cost nothing. There was so much going on that we didn’t/couldn’t attend. I even thought about going back on Sunday for a workshop called Shy Writers Desiring to Speak Dynamically and Reading: Finish With a Joke with Ellen’s friend Leslie Daniels and one of my favorite panelists from Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me  (NPR), Amy Dickinson.

We’ve all vowed to return next year. As Ellen said, it was great fun to just hang out together as writers.

Confessions of An Introvert

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I am an introvert. That doesn’t mean I’m shy. I’m not afraid of people. What it means is being around people for long periods of time depletes me. I need quiet time, alone time, to recharge my energy.

Introverts are most comfortable with the inner life of the mind, drawing their energy from quiet and solitude, whereas extroverts are vitalized by people, noise, and action. Brain scans have shown that introverts even process information differently than extroverts.

This is an ongoing conversation between my husband and me. He’s an ambivert–he’s comfortable in social situations and enjoys people, but also requires solitude. He tells me I could be less introverted if I wanted. He’s wrong.

Example:

On a recent Saturday, I had my local RWA chapter meeting. I love my chapter. I love the meetings. But they do take a lot of me because I’m surrounded by people. After the meeting, I usually go home and watch a movie with my husband. I have “down” time in which to recuperate from being “on”.

This particular weekend, we were invited to a Saturday evening surprise birthday party for one of my husband’s former co-workers. And I went, determined to have a good time, even though I would know maybe three or people there–people I see once or twice a year for a handful of years at work-related events. They’re nice people, but they’re not my people. Fortunately, there was a basketball game on in one of the rooms. I curled up in the corner and watched a team for which I have some fondness play while my husband socialized. But the game ended and it was birthday cake time, so I had to leave my sanctuary and mingle. And I did, as best I could. The art of small talk eludes me. I used to try, but it’s not my thing. I ran into a former co-worker of mine, and I listened to him recount his life in the twenty or more years since I’d last seen him.

I had a nice time. It was a lovely party.

But I paid for it the next day. I could barely open my eyes and had no energy whatsoever. I felt hung over. Maybe it was bad wine–one of the wines left the same taste in my mouth that blowing up a new pool toy does: Chateau New Vinyl–but I doubt it. This exhaustion happens to me every time I don’t get enough “down” time. Now I know why. I’m an introvert.

If you’d like to learn more, Quiet: the Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain delves into the research; The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World by Sophia Dembling offers practical advice.

 

 

 

Challenge Accepted

This was on Facebook earlier this week. I had a lot of fun doing it.

 

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions.  Try not to repeat a song title. It’s a lot harder than you think!
Pick your Artist: Bob Dylan
Are you a Male or a Female: JUST LIKE A WOMAN
Describe Yourself: ONLY A PAWN IN THEIR GAME
How do you feel: FOREVER YOUNG
Describe where you currently live: GIRL FROM THE NORTH COUNTRY
If you could go anywhere, where would you go: BLACK DIAMOND BAY
Your Favorite form of Transportation: BLOWING IN THE WIND or LIKE A ROLLING STONE
Your Best Friend is: ABSOLUTELY SWEET MARIE
You and your best friends are: RAINY DAY WOMEN
What’s the weather like: A HARD RAIN’S GONNA FALL or HURRICANE
Favorite Time of Day: MEET ME IN THE MORNING
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: WHEN I PAINT MY MASTERPIECE
What is life to you: I SHALL BE FREE
Your last relationship: MR. TAMBOURINE MAN
Your fear: MONEY BLUES
What is the best advice you have to give: DON’T THINK TWICE, IT’S ALL RIGHT
Thought for the day: ONE MORE CUP OF COFFEE
How I would like to die: KNOCKING ON HEAVEN’S DOOR
My soul’s present condition: BEYOND THE HORIZON
My motto: THE TIMES, THEY ARE A CHANGING

Pet Peeve: It’s Time for Change

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Time for another of my pet peeves: receiving change when I make a cash purchase.

Many decades ago, when I worked in retail, I was taught to count back the change to the customer, starting with the coins.

Example: The individual made a $2.42 purchase and paid with a five dollar bill. Change was counted back like this:

  • “Forty-three, forty-four, forty-five,” while handing back three pennies.
  • “Fifty,” with a nickle.
  • “Seventy-five, three,” with two quarters.
  • “Four and five,” with two one-dollar bills.

The change went into the palm first.

That is not how it’s done these days, and it irks me. The cashier plops the bills on a person’s open palm, followed the the receipt, then the coins, which slide off all that paper.

Seriously? The old way is better.

Dating Service.Com: A Crackpot Theory

I have had a Yahoo home page for years. When I sign onto my computer, up pops my horoscope, local weather, word of the day, and scores from my favorite sports teams. I can link to favorite sites from it–blogs, my local library, Amazon, Goodreads. It’s a great tool.

The only thing I don’t love about it is the ad. For some reason, for the entire time I’ve had this pages–at least fifteen years, if not more–I see an ad for an on-line dating service. I have no idea why. I’ve been happily married for over 25 years. But there they are: single men in my area. But what’s curious is that over the years, the photos have never changed. The same men are single. For over fifteen years.

Makes a woman wonder what’s wrong with these guys that they’re still available.

Sometimes my imagination runs rampant. At least two of men whose photos are in the ad look like someone with whom I would not want to share a bathroom.

Ever see an ad and draw conclusions about the models?