An Argument for Mornings

#15 Most people are asleep, so you can imagine the world is all yours for the taking.
#14 The quiet allows your mind to rest and recuperate.
#13 Breakfast foods are yummy (real maple syrup on crispy french toast. I rest my case).
#12 Writing happens often when you're fresh. Your brain is juiced up for creativity after a good night sleep.
#11 It's cooler in the morning, which makes me happy, which makes all right with the world. It also makes me want to write.
#10 No one is arguing and you don't have to say "no" to any child's request.
#9 You are the first to see the news and find out what is happening in the world.
#8 The day is a clean slate. You can forget yesterday and make it what you want.
#7 You are rested after a long sleep (usually).
#6 More babies are born between 8 and 9 a.m. than any other time!
#5 The minutes of morning may actually last longer.
#4 The pressures of the day haven't yet started.  
#3 The birds are eager to sing.
#2 It's the beginning of something, not the end.
#1 A rich, creamy coffee. Maybe the best reason.

Myanmar Revisited

Found these from our trip to Myanmar...

A Thanksgiving

 I imagine everyone back home, scurrying from one family to another to be together in that poignant Norman Rockwell way (was he a curse on our expectations of American holidays?), helping themselves to pie (hopefully pumpkin) and slabs of pale turkey meat (possibly juicy). 

Our Thanksgivings here in Malaysia are unorthodox, often celebrated with other faculty in a cafeteria complete with tablecloths, turkey provided by our principals, and Charlie Brown Thanksgiving playing in a classroom for the kiddos. It's an experience we love.

BUT this year we've been invited to the home of non-teacher friends. What a treat it was to enjoy the "adult table" and sit on couches beforehand, enjoy interesting conversation about insurance costs and past Thanksgivings while eating homemade green bean casserole.

But it's over for another year and I'll be fasting from carved turkey for a while, having eaten more than my share of that and sweet potatoes, so adieu, Thanksgiving, adieu. It's been grand.

I hope anyone listening, your Thanksgiving is good in that Rockwell way--family members or friends present, turkey golden brown, everyone in Sunday best or maybe just best frame of mind with the most comfy seat. There's nothing quite like it.

Pieces of Me

Vietnam is a magical place, with hauntings and whispering of past tragedy, of future hope, of present compassion and joy. I spent 8 days with 15 high school students, 1 other teacher (hi Will!), and three, sometimes four guides. Those days were exhilarating and challenging.

We helped build some outhouse toilets for a remote village school on an island. The children were absolutely the cutest children ever seen by humans. Smiles galore playing tag, 'cops and robbers' (go figure! in Vietnam!) and more. But most of our time was pretending to be serious construction workers. Our guides were from Phat Tire (hi guys! you're awesome!), a fantastic adventure outfit based out of Hoi An and Dalat. The toilets it took us a day to build would take two men three days, so the school saved  a bit of money by having 15 freshmen do the work.

Our time spent in Hue was eye-opening, talking about the Tet Offensive, the use of the Citadel as a battleground, the monk who set himself on fire to protest the war (he supported the North). It was an interesting look into a past that sits hazy in my mind, with my weak knowledge really based on what I've heard of the protests in the U.S. and the heroics and dangers faced by the U.S. soldiers.

This picture was taken by a student. Vietnam was beautiful, haunting, and the people kind and warm, so open to meeting strangers. I've been there before but somehow it meant more this time.

I hope to go back sometime soon, to taste the magic for another moment. A piece of me seems to still be there now, maybe waiting for me to come back and get it.

Top 10 Books

It's difficult--nigh impossible-- to come up with a top ten list of books. That's like saying, "Who's your favorite people ever?" How could you possibly decide? You like some people for their humor, how fun they are, admire others for their kindness and sensitivity, you love your mother because of her love, and of course your children are completely adorable because--well, frankly, they're like you, so how could you not think so?

But I threw caution to the wind and decided if I HAD to pick a top ten list of books, if I was strapped to a chair and denied food and water until I gave it up, this is what I'd come up with.

Not that anyone cares, but here it is all the same, in no particular order:

Jane Eyre

Pride and Prejudice

A Tale of Two Cities

All the Light We Cannot See

Middlemarch

The Bible

Unbroken

A Room of One's Own

Station Eleven
Anna Karenina

The Madwoman in the Volvo

The word Madwoman got my attention when I first saw the cover, but this was the selection for September for my book club-- a teachers' group here at The International School of Kuala Lumpur.

Madwoman in the Volvo: My Year of Raging Hormones by Sandra Tsing Loh is a fun yet introspective read. I've not personally experienced the "hormones" related to menopause, but I'm sure my time will come soon enough! (no clues here...my age is not for public disclosure. ha.) The humor and hard lessons, I could relate to in this book, and several passages had me laughing out loud on the plane as I floated above the city of Bangkok, as the pilot patiently waited for an airstrip to open.

I went to a conference in Bangkok last weekend, so late evenings in the hotel after a Thai dinner and massage proved the perfect backdrop to finishing this, at times sordid, tale.

{spoiler alert!} 
My one criticism would be that the first quarter of the book was almost too humorous. She took a very light-hearted look at the break-up of her first (very long) marriage and revealed very little of how devastated and miserable she must have been. The ending of a two-decades long marriage would result in some emotion, but it was as if a blanket lay over the experience and she wouldn't fully let us into it. The focus of the memoir later becomes the near-breakup of her second marriage, and this was treated with much more honesty and vulnerability, which was nicely juxtaposed with humor and self-deprecation. I appreciated how she didn't shy away from her flaws and faults although at times her honesty was nearly too much. {ie: are there no good people left in the world?!} 

I do wish one honest memoir would be published where the person presents themselves as noble and good, not selfish and reluctant. But maybe that makes for a boring story.

At least it's good to know when I hit that stage I can blame all of my horrible actions and feelings on my body. So 21st century.

Here's an interview with Sandra. Cool to hear her voice. It sounds like her writer's voice.

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/06/08/books/review/sandra-tsing-lohs-madwoman-in-the-volvo.html

Culture of Reading

Sometimes I wish my kids weren't pulled so much into video games, youtube, movies, but when I look in their rooms it reassures me that we may have gotten something right.

A household culture of reading. Not the easiest thing to create, but so worthwhile!

Another Doerr Book

I was so thrilled with award-winning All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr that I found his earlier memoir, Four Seasons in Rome. It's no wonder this guy has won a sackful of prizes because he'd such an incredible writer, the style and flair is so breathtakingly honest, yet beautiful--not just raw and ugly emotion, but that side of us that is an awe that we even get to walk the planet Earth for a moment.

His Rome book centers on his time in Rome after he'd received a grant to write for a year, and it happened to be just months after his twins were born. He considers the ancient yet modernity of Rome in light of his insomnia and incredulity over raising twin boys.

Besides his poetic language, Doerr's book has a humming undercurrent of wisdom. One of my favorite lines from this book was: "Sleep is a horizon: the harder you row toward it, the faster it recedes."

Any parent knows the truth of that statement.

Rome. Children. Sleep. Beautiful Language. This book touches on all a true reader and parent would need and want in a book.

Top Ten Reasons to Write

#10 You get plenty of quiet alone time!

#9 You now have a good reason not to go running.

#8 You can't dance so at least you have something.

#7 You become better at a particular craft.

#6 You set a great example for your kids of working hard to achieve something.

#5 It may be finally fulfilling a lifelong dream.

#4 You can take what you've learned all these years about reading people and put it to good use.

#3 You may just get to see your name in print one day.

#2 It makes you a better person. You're accomplishing great things and learning so much.

#1 Because it feeds something you can't quite explain. Your soul, your spirit, your heart, your mind. All of them somehow.

Station Eleven

According to Emily St. John Mandel's website, Karen Valby in Entertainment Weekly said, Station Eleven is "A novel that miraculously reads like equal parts page-turner and poem. One of her great feats is that the story feels spun..."

I love that. Mandel's story is spun so beautifully--it's like a carpet of a book! An expensive Iranian carpet that might just be 100 years old but could be brand new and you really don't know which is true. There's something so magical about this book. Maybe it's the intricacy of the characters and timeline, where past melds with present for the reader so the two seem linked in a way I may never have felt before reading a book. Considering how strangely bleak the post-apocalyptic world in the future (or is it present?) is, it's amazing how strongly connected we feel to it as well as to the characters' previous lives.

The use of present tense must be partially what bridges the past and future, as it makes the various time frames feel equally poignant and devastating. The character development is more evocative than most science fiction I've read--although I must admit that's not terribly much. The Road by McCarthy might be the most similar book to this I've ever read although I don't know if it's really all that similar at all.

FIVE stars. Really. It's that good. 2014 was the most awesome year for books. Now I have to go read the book that actually won the National Book Award last year (Station Eleven and All the Light were finalists). My expectations are now soaring in the heavens.

Fire Cakes

I got very interested in Revolutionary war-era cooking when I was researching for my HF book (set in the same time period--obviously.) When I read that the soldiers ate mostly fire cakes, I thought, "Wow, that sounds quite good. Cake made over an open fire. It must taste a little sweet, a little smoky. Yum!"

But no, naive girl, it is not tasty actually. I looked for the recipe and found that fire cakes are exactly this:

flour
water
salt if you're luckier than most

Cook this over an open fire. Ever had pancakes that were so hard and disgusting not even the dog would eat them? Yep, that's fire cakes!

Amazing what we take for granted. First of all, salt. Then, sugar. Then, a real stove, not an open flame. Can you imagine how badly they'd stick, if nothing else?!

A Splash of the World

We went scuba diving over spring break. My daughter took the training course. I'd been before but I wasn't a very confident diver. Somehow seeing my eleven year old dive without a speck of fear made me want to get better at it. If she could point out a turtle with the appropriate hand gesture on her very first dive in the warm Indian Ocean, I could stop coarsely breathing into my regulator like it was a ventilator and I was about to die. She was inspiring.

We dove while the little one snorkeled up top with Grandma. It was a memorable vacation, and I'd recommend Gili Air Island to anyone.  Blue Marine Dive shop was awesome. Stop at Chill Out restaurant on the beach--one of the best restaurants on the island. A full moon over dinner didn't hurt!

All the Light We Cannot See

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

Highly recommend! You won't forget this book for a long time. This is the literary version of a modern Rembrandt. His style is poetic yet sparse; the tension keeps you turning the pages even while he lingers on characters, even minor ones. Some of the tension lies in the character building, which is just so brilliant. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed this book!

I had never read anything by Doerr but now I want to read everything. This book really stimulated my desire to read more about WWII. I thought I'd read lots, but maybe not enough. Can there ever be enough understanding about the Holocaust? No wonder so many people write about it--it's an unending source of anguish and heartache, and no matter how much you read you can never really fathom that something like that could happen even though you read and read and try and try.

The two viewpoints of this book: blind girl and young German orphan boy were absolutely fascinating. I love unique perspectives on the same story. And I loved the idea of a mystical stone that one of Hitler's men is obsessed with--it added an "Indiana Jones" flair and just a touch of fantasy without losing the integrity and importance of the story. I hadn't read anything about the Nazis' collection of riches, besides seeing the movie The Monuments Men (which I didn't care for, despite loving the leading actors), but that was probably quite an important element of WWII: Nazis collecting the treasures of Europe. In the end, doesn't greed fuel half of everything horrible in the world?

A+. No doubt, a must read.

(When finished, read Nobel Prize winner Elie Wiesel's book about his experience in a concentration camp: Night--shockingly honest yet elegant.)

Resolutions: Just Say No

I'm not the type of person to make New Year resolutions.

For some reason they grate against me--as if somehow I've allowed the universe to coerce me into doing something that everyone does, just for the sake of pretending I will actually do it, because "everyone does it" and somehow it will "be an improvement" on my current habits. My current habits are fine, thank you very much.

I'm not a saint or terribly good at committing to exercising, or getting to bed by 10, but frankly, if I want to exercise I will. If I don't want to I won't. I don't need a note written on January 1st where I commit to exercising for 30 days to start doing it!

Actually, I'm so stubborn a note like that sometimes makes me NOT exercise because I want to be contrary!

Oh brother. I guess I really am crazy, or just Scrooge-like (forgive me, please).

So there will be no 2015 resolutions, no 30-day commitments, no 365 days to a new me. I'll take the old me, thank you very much.

But something interesting that I did run across...was a blog where someone said they were picking a WORD for the year. Yes, a WORD, like

hoopla

joy

manifestations

And a bell went off in my head. A word! A word I can do.

So, I'm going to go for it. I'm going to pick a word, something that will help me when I'm going a little crazy with my writing drafts or life begins to feel overwhelming, with juggling writing, family, full-time teaching...

I think it's going to be old-fashioned and probably very 1997, this word, but who cares.

My word is...

CHILL.

Just chill and enjoy life. Chill and enjoy writing. Enjoy my kids. Enjoy my amazing students. Even enjoy the tropical heat! Enjoy American Idol for goodness sake! Just enjoy all of it, because the next time it will all be different. The chapter, the students, the age of my kids.

I'm going to enjoy the moment....the sun on the horizon, the laughter in my chest, the smile on my daughter's face...because this exact moment won't ever come again.

A short short

I was teaching my students about writing concisely. I thought if I wanted to challenge them I had to challenge myself, so here's a short short I wrote...

      Regrets

       by Tracy Woodward

Nothing has really changed. Life, a string of empty moments—even more now that he’s living alone. No more arguments. The doorbell rings, phone alerts to important things. Child hollers, dog barks. In a week he’ll be back where he started: TV addict, beer guzzler, Internet surfer. The end is the beginning too.

What would it hurt? Another bad decision can’t do much harm now, he thinks.  The pulse behind his temple expands like a swollen river, but finally he writes the email and pauses, index finger lingering above the keyboard, then drops it like he’s squeezing a trigger. SEND.

Nepal!

Nepal with my students involved the most breathtaking and shocking sights.

The mountains...not much can compare.

The city...it was fascinating.

No More Boring

I'm certainly the world's worst blogger.

I went to a Google conference this weekend and they had so many snazzy photos and videos, I realized I need to get with the program...as in, actually post something interesting once in a while.

So, I found this video and think it's great. Who doesn't love dogs and peanut butter? And the combination? Priceless.  Click here or click on the tongue down there....

I'm sure I'll get 10,000 hits now because of this.

Ha.

Historical Fiction: revealing history

It's pretty cool when you're researching for a historical fiction novel because you learn SO much information about a time that you thought you knew, but come to find out, you actually know NOTHING about it, at least not in the practical sense. It would be so embarrassing for my 10th grade history teacher if she knew.

Of course I knew that in 1776 the Declaration of Independence was signed, as most people do.

But, I didn't know these things about our fledgling country:

• women wore fingerless gloves (but there was a cap for the thumb- thumbs are colder I guess??)
• a woman's corset was called a "stay" 
• eggs and bacon was NOT a common breakfast; cornmeal mush was 
• soldiers were REQUIRED to keep their faces shaven and clean at all times; we imagine scruffiness would be more bold, courageous, even soldierly, but no. (maybe because more chance for lice in close tent quarters? I doubt that's it. Looks like it was just culture back then.)
• and of course I found out that it takes twice as long to write a novel of this sort because you have to spend 30 minutes researching not only the type of utensils they used, but what ale they drank, what they called their parents, and much, much more, with every page!

It's been quite an undertaking but also a fulfilling process. Exciting to have my novel come together into a real, live book! 

Fingers crossed we get things to the next level. ;)

A Funny One

One of my favorite lines ever from my youngest, at the age of four, comes at the end of this scenario:

I'm driving the three kids somewhere, probably a birthday party, which seems to be about the only places I drive them, and they're about 8, 6, and 4 at the time.

"What do you want to be, Reeve, when you grow up?"
"Astronaut."
"And you, middle daughter?"
"A horse trainer."
"And you, youngest girl?"

Pause.

"I want to be a cheetah."

Gotta love it. She has wanted to shape shift since she was four. She's eight now, and it's still her biggest dream. Ah, childhood.

Satire!

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