Hope Darby Writings

Earlier today, I was reminded of something that happened when I was a kid. We lived on an Air Force Base, so it was not at all uncommon for kids to get together and take off playing, not to return home until the streetlights came on. It was safe. We would play hide-and-seek games that spanned two or three blocks, and our parents never worried.

One summer evening, the streetlights came on and my parents hadn’t seen me anywhere outside. They started looking for me. They went outside, yelled my name, asked my friends if they knew where I was, knocked on neighbors’ doors, everything. Right before my dad organized an impromptu search posse of neighborhood dads, my mother happened to ask, “Um, Reggie? Did we look in her bedroom?”

Sure enough, they thundered into the house, down the hall, and flung open my bedroom door. There I was, lying on my bed and writing in my journal. I’d been there for hours, no wonder they never saw me come in. I’d never gone out!

They can laugh about the story now, and it certainly taught them the lesson of checking my bedroom first, but I have to say that the memory made me a bit sad today. Why?

Well, back then I would write for hours. I filled notebook after notebook with poetry, stories, and thoughts. Sure, I watched my favorite cartoons and television shows, and I played outside a lot, but I was constantly writing. Constantly imagining. Constantly pretending.

Nowadays, though, I find myself struggling for ideas at times. For inspiration. For something to make me open my imagination. What happened?

Computers. DVRs. Whenever I get bored now, I can flip on the monitor or open my laptop, and immediately be entertained, without making the slightest effort. I don’t have to exercise my imagination, because thousands of other people do the imagining for me. I can get lost in their worlds, and never need to leave mine.

So how do we build our imaginations in this unconscious time? Leave the television off? Utilize some willpower and not click the Firefox button whenever I’m writing in MSWord? Or learn to blend the new with the old?

Hmmmm.

What with spook-season being just around the corner (not to mention my favorite time of year), I present to thee, Noctem Aeternus:

It was a one-off horror magazine published in .PDF format, downloadable and free. Its first, and to my knowledge only, issue was in January 2008, and available here.

Far from your typically tame horror tales, the stories told in this magazine really do their job. Goosebumps, prickly skin, staccato heartbeats, and the occasional, “What was that??” jump when the cat crosses your peripheral vision, are all side-effects of indulging in the horror-bly superb pages.

Just don’t be a chicken. Turn off the lights, save one lone lamp for reading, and do it right. After all, what’s the point in reading something scary if you aren’t prepared to be scared?

I realized today that Eva Shaw is one of the most influential writing professors in my life. I was stuck, you see, and absolutely could not figure out how to get my heroine from where she was to where she was supposed to wind up. So I pulled out a massive sheet of newsprint and started drawing circles all over it, in a brainstorming technique called “Bubbling,” also known as “Mind Mapping.” Mid-way through my Bubbling, I glanced up and saw three of Eva’s books sitting on my desk, and realized that I was doing precisely what she’d always instructed.

Get stuck? Bubble.
Stay stuck? Bubble.
Still stuck? Take a break, come back later with fresh eyes. And then Bubble.

Heh.
See, Eva? I was paying attention!

Want to learn more about Bubbling / Mind Mapping? Try these sites:

Wiki

Mind-Mapping.co.uk

Mind-Map Directory

How to Make a Mind Map in 8 Steps

To name a few =)

In order to better organize my writing (and my thoughts!) I have decided to create a political blog in conjunction with this one.

This way, anyone who doesn’t agree with my political views can still come, read, and visit, without having to wade through posts that may ruffle their feathers. I thought the most diplomatic way to keep my opinions out there, but not shoved in anyone’s face was to create the new blog.

SO!

I have removed the political posts from this site and moved them to their new home at www.hopedarbywritings.com/politics

You’ll have to bear with me a bit, I’m still working the kinks out of the system and doing more upgrades to all pages of my site.

Hope you enjoy!

Apparently, I have a “condition” known as Thygeson’s Superficial Punctate Keratitis. Which really is just a fancy-schmany name for severe, chronic dry eye. It sounds a lot scarier than it is! The main annoyance is that it causes my vision to go to pot, as if I’m wearing contacts or glasses three powers too weak. Fun times!

I tell you, I cannot wait until I am able to get LASIK. Hopefully I’ll be able to swing it next year. I’ve worn glasses since the first grade, contacts since I was 10, and quite frankly, I’m sick and tired of it. Having to pay extra for glasses because the strength is so high, special-ordering contacts because so few places keep them in stock; thank goodness for the internet, else we’d be broke by now just keeping my eyes vaguely operational.

Off I go to hydrate the peepers. Ever heard of Soothe XP? If you ever use this nectar of the eye-moistening gods, don’t be like me. I freaked out after the first drop, because I neglected to read the fine print on the box. Heck, let’s be honest, I couldn’t even see the LARGE print on the box, so at least I have an excuse. Anyway, I didn’t realize that the drops are white, and make your eye go milky/hazy for a few moments.

There’s a terror for you. Drop something in your eye just to have it white-out your vision. Egads.

Apparently I have somehow injured my left eye, making it not only painful and my vision blurry, but also incredibly light-sensitive.

I’ll be limiting my computer time until it heals up, so bear with me!

I have been running like a landlocked, female Michael Phelps, trying to get this place updated and tidy. I suppose it would have been easier to compare myself to a female, American Usain Bolt with all my running around, but I just didn’t like his showboating. Ahh well.

A storylet for you, while you wait on my scattered self to get together. A friend of mine asked if there were any Jewish delis in my area, with the suggestion that I buy knishes. After giggling for a minute or two, my response was:

“You forget, dear, I’m in podunk Alabama. Were I to ask for a knish around here, they’d likely hand me a sock or something!”

Case in point: I was in the grocery store a few nights ago, and a little boy ran up to the kosher foods section (which is about six shelves high, a foot and a half long, nestled next to the Asian section of the same size), grabbed a box of Matzo mix, ran it up to his parents and demanded to know what it was.

Mom says, “Mayt-zoo?” with a most uncomprehending expression.

Dad puffs up and says authoritatively, “You don’t want that, son. German people put it on cornflakes.”

At which point, I literally had to clamp my teeth down on my bottom lip to keep from howling with laughter.

One day, I hope to have enough rejection letters to paper an entire wall of my office.

I have been extremely fortunate in one very important regard: I have no problem with rejection. I have no problem having my work criticized, cast aside, and passed over. Every single time I’ve received a rejection letter, I’ve followed it up with an alternative query. More often than not, this gets me accepted or, at the very least, puts me in an editor’s mind enough to ensure future work.

Truly, I owe my high-school journalism teacher major gratitude for this. In the midst of her constant praise of my writing came the many criticisms, both constructive and not, for various articles I handed in to her. In the beginning of our “working” relationship, I was not adept with this criticizm, and one day found myself in tears after what I thought were beautiful words were torn to pieces by this tiny little red-haired leprechaun. She looked me dead in the eye and said, “If you never learn to accept that some of your work is bad, you’ll never appreciate that most of your work is excellent. Don’t expect it to be bad, else that’s all you’ll produce. Just give yourself the freedom to write, and the discipline to edit without mercy, and your good will always outweigh the bad.”

Even back then, I hated to admit when she was right. But thank the stars I got over it, because I couldn’t have accomplished anything without that particular lesson.

Here I am again, pandering for animals and my favorite pet-rescue organization, “PAWS” (Pets Are Worth Saving). This time, all you have to do is click on two links. Couldn’t be easier!

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Free Food for Abandoned and Abused Animals is Just a Click Away!

The Animal Rescue Site is a great website that donates food to feed abused and neglected animals. The concept is simple: for every click over to their site .6 bowls of food is donated. We’re sharing the following message to help get the word out because the site is having trouble getting enough people to stop by.

See? Simple.

Please tell ten friends to tell ten today! The Animal Rescue Site is having trouble getting enough people to click on it daily to meet their quota of getting free food donated every day to abused and neglected animals.

It takes less than a minute (How about 20 seconds) to go to their site and click on the purple box “Click here to give-it’s Free”. if you can save the site on your computer you can donate each day.This doesn’t cost you a thing. Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate food to abandoned/neglected animals in exchange for advertising.

Please pass this along to people you know.

If you’re forgetful, like me, there’s even a place to sign up for a daily email reminder. It’s time to get clicking.

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I’ve made some slight alterations to the front page, and will be loading new articles into the Fiction/Non-fiction headers soon. Be sure to refresh your cache so you can see the changes, and go peek at the front!