Colloquium » Colloquium on Writing

In 250 Words or Less …

JHS — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 01:00:16 +0000

Few things are as satisfying as having time to get comfortable with an engrossing work of fiction. I stand in awe of skilled fiction writers and, for that reason, draw your attention to the latest fiction writing contest being hosted at The Clarity of Night: Listening for the Words in a Quiet Corner of the Night. The Fiction, Poetry, and Photography of Jason Evans.

Participants are challenged to compose a very short story — 250 words or less — in response to the same visual prompt. Thus far, Jason has posted 55 entries — a wildly divergent, eclectic mix of prose. I have read many of them and urge you to do the same as you will be entertained and amazed by the varied themes developed and stories told in so few words. However, some of the entries left me frustrated, wanting to know more about characters with whom I was barely acquainted when the oh-so-brief tales ended abruptly.

Jason’s contest is an excellent example of the blogosphere as community. He describes his purpose for hosting the contest this way:

I hope you take advantage of the opportunity to meet and interact with your fellow writers. Our different perspectives, styles, and skills shine when we all start at the same place. It’s a great opportunity to learn from each other.

The submission deadline is Wednesday, January 14, 2009, at 11:00 p.m. Eastern time. Jason will be judging the entries himself, utilizing a scoring system based upon his own philosophy and the challenge he issued to the competitors.

In my view, stories are everywhere, but the skill to make a story come alive on the page is far more rare. Transport me into your world with the first line and keep me there to the end. Don’t let me wriggle out of your grasp.

Good luck to all of the participating writers. And if you are one of them, be sure to leave a comment directing us to your story!

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Topics: Colloquium on Writing, The Clarity of Night

The Focus for 2009

JHS — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 01:00:53 +0000

“I am my own worst critic.” How many times have you thought or said that sentence? Probably countless times, if you are a quintessential artist, writer, musician or other person striving to create something meaningful or memorable. If we are honest with ourselves, we have to admit the tendency to be critical of our own work is what drives us. Without that constant process of evaluation, we would not be able to function and the quality of our work would not improve over time.

But too much of a good thing can be … well, too much. Our own critical assessment of our work can run amuck to the point that it paralyzes us, completing derailing the creative process.

At those times, writing coach and freelance writer Joanna Young advises a step back from the messages being imparted by our “inner critic” in favor of finding the positive purpose of our efforts. She explains that our purpose in embarking upon a particular creative endeavor might be “for other people — a gift, a lesson, a thanks,” but none requires nor depends upon the approval of others.

It seems to me that what Joanna calls “positive purpose” is akin to, if not synonymous with, what others describe as “self motivation” or, even more simply, “direction.” No matter how you verbalize the concept, the underlying meaning is the same: Creative pursuits originate from within ourselves and come to fruition only when they survive the scrutiny of the creator’s internal critic.

Joanna recounts overcoming her inner critic’s restraints on her creativity by focusing upon the “positive intention” that compelled her to undertake a photography project. In doing so, she discovered that all of her intentions were “entirely within my gift. No one could judge them ‘good enough’ (or not).” In other words, she focused upon the purity of her inspiration to create someting tangible in order to regain her confidence. In the end, she didn’t care whether her readers liked her photographs or not because, as she explained it, “I’m enjoying myself. I’m creating, and learning, and feeling mindful as I go.”

Purposeful. Intentional. Mindful. I am inspired by each of those words and the images they connote. And they are going to focus my writing endeavors in 2009: I am going to approach my creative projects purposefully and intentionally, always mindful of those forces that motivate me to be creative and productive.

Have you decided upon or established an approach to your 2009 creative endeavors? Tell me about it!

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Topics: Monday Musings

Writeapalooza: The Best of 2008

JHS — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 01:01:17 +0000

Many bloggers routinely publish end-of-the-year wrap-ups, directing readers to re-read what they consider to be their best work of the year, or give readers a second chance to experience a post or two that they missed when they were originally published.

Since I am completing my second year publishing weekly entries on the topic of writing, I spent some time considering my 2008 contributions and devised Writeapalooza 2008, a selection of what I consider to be my best writing published here in 2008:

For writers, reviewing previously competed work can be a valuable experience. As I looked over the posts I’ve published here during the past twelve months, I was surprised that I did not even remember writing a few. In a couple of instances, with good reason — they were, in my opinion, completely forgettable. A couple could be greatly improved if I took time to edit them. A couple have held up quite well in the ensuing months.

The posts I ended up selecting for Writeapalooza 2008 are, for the most part and not at all surprisingly, the ones that I felt most passionate about while writing them. For instance, What’s In Your Closet? is a very personal discussion about the contrasts between my parents’ lives and mine. What is Your Legacy? focuses upon a soldier who wrote a final blog post to be published in case he did not return home. He didn’t, and that caused me to contemplate — and ask my readers to consider — what final message I would choose to leave behind under similar circumstances.

The two series that I offered in 2008 gave me a chance to blend my professional endeavors with my off-hours writing efforts, exploring some of the cultural and technological phenomena affecting our lives, and suggesting ways to avoid falling victim to either one.

I always enjoy writing about current events and issues, as I did in Signs of the Times. Sadly, since that article about the state of the newspaper industry was published on September 1, 2008, matters have worsened as America’s economic condition has continued to deteriorate.

And on November 26, 2008, Lori Drew was convicted in Los Angeles on three misdemeanor charges of unauthorized access to computers in relationship to her cyber-bullying of a 13-year-old girl who subsequently committed suicide. Accused only of violating My Space.com’s terms of services, the jury could not reach consensus on the felony charges that would have resulted in a maximum prison sentence of 20 years. Instead, she is facing a one-year sentence and up to a $100,000 fine on each of the three misdemeanor convictions, but has lodged an appeal. Meanwhile, several states, including Missouri, where the incident occurred, have since enacted legislation in response to the incident and its tragic outcome, and are pursuing convictions against other persons who have engaged in similar online behavior.

I invite you to participate in Writeapalooza 2008 by taking time to review and consider your 2008 writing efforts and directing us to what you consider to be your best work. You might select one post or several … on any topic published at any time during 2008. Write a post on your own site and leave the link in a comment. Or just leave the links to your best efforts in a comment. Provide a brief summary explaining why you believe the posts you are linking to represent your very best efforts.

I look forward to reading your contributions to Writeapalooza 2008 and experiencing your best writing!

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Topics: Colloquium on Writing

The Power of a Word

JHS — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 02:01:18 +0000

Watergate.

Lest you doubt the power of a single word, consider that one for a few moments. What other words come to mind? What images does it evoke? What emotions do you feel when you hear that word?

Your responses are inescapably informed by your age, i.e., whether you are old enough to have lived through the Watergate scandal, headline by headline.

Yesterday was my birthday and I really wanted to spend part of it seeing Frost/Nixon. (I have been a fan of Frank Langella’s work since he portrayed a young, sexy Dracula in 1979.) Since Frost/Nixon is not yet in wide release, we schlepped about 50 miles in the pouring rain to the closest movie theater offering an afternoon showing. It was well worth the trip.

The death of Deep Throat, W. Mark Felt, at the age of 95 this past Friday, December 19, was on our minds as we navigated the freeways. And earlier last week, when I announced my intent to see the movie while on vacation, I inevitably wound up playing the “Where were you when … ?” game with a couple colleagues. I ended up playing it again with BigBob while we inched our way past the cars clogging the freeway as they attempted to exit near the region’s largest and most popular mall.

For the record, on August 8, 1974, I was 17 years old and two months or so post-high school graduation. I spent that summer working at Straw Hat Pizza for the then-minimum wage of two dollars per hour. Predictably, there were no customers in the restaurant that night. Not one. So I reasonably believed that the employees would be allowed to spend a few moments in the dining room gathered around the television there in order to witness the historic moment when a United States President resigned the office for the first time. Instead, the manager and assistant manager, making an impact upon me that they could never have foreseen, refused my request. They sat down in the dining room with a couple of beers while the cartoons that ran incessantly on the large screen television droned on, uninterrupted. They couldn’t have been less interested in the history being written that night. They informed me that if I insisted on listening to President Nixon tell the nation “I shall leave this office with regret at not completing my term, but with gratitude for the privilege of serving as your President …” I could take the AM/FM radio I was holding in my hand (I brought it with me to work just in case) to the back room and listen while washing pizza pans. So that’s precisely what I did. I listened to a radio broadcast of the speech while up to my elbows in a disgusting mixture of soapy water and tomato paste, determined that would be the first and last time I ever worked in a restaurant of any sort. (It was.)

We all know the scandal that ultimately brought down a Presidency was named after the hotel suite into which burglars crept on June 17, 1972, in order to steal information about President Nixon’s would-be opponents in the upcoming election from the Democratic National Committee. But have you ever wondered how the hotel itself came to be named “Watergate” and forever synonymous with both political scandal and the legendary investigative journalism of Robert Woodward, Carl Bernstein, and their unsung colleagues?

Beginning in 1935, concerts were held in Washington D.C. at a venue known as the Water Gate. Two years after the Arlington Memorial Bridge was constructed, the road along the river was closed to through traffic. Audience members assembled on the 40 stone steps leading up to the Lincoln Memorial and folding chairs set up on the roadway. Those steps were originally conceived as a ceremonial entrance to the city where visiting dignitaries could disembark from a water-powered vessel and make a grand entrance. Thus, quite literally, they were designed to serve as a Water Gate to the nation’s capitol. Instead, on the deck of a barge rented from the Navy, the National Symphony Orchestra performed Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture.” “Sunset Symphonies,” sponsored by the National Park Service, featured performances by the Army, Navy, Marine Corps, and Army Air Forces bands, Frank Sinatra, and Paul Robeson. The concerts ended in 1965 when noise from the planes landing at and taking off from National Airport made it impossible to hear the music. According to local legend, members of the trumpet section played “Taps” while the barge that had served as a stage was towed away.

There was also a restaurant in town called the Water Gate Inn which featured Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine from 1942 until 1966 when it was torn down to accommodate construction of the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.

It is believed that the hotel and office complex, Washington D.C.,‘s first major international real estate development, as well as the old restaurant, was named after the steps on which so many folks enjoyed summer evening musical performances. How the name was transformed into the one syllable “Watergate,” however, remains unknown.

Watergate East is considered the first major construction job to have widely employed computer technology: A forerunner of computer-aided drafting (CAD) technology was utilized to design irregular windows and wall panels in a building boasting “no continuous straight lines anywhere,” and different facades and curves on every floor. Ironically, the structural design, along with the “elaborate electronic security system” that included “closed-circuit televisions, two-way radios, and a 24-hour security staff” was lauded as a deterrent to crime. “What all of this means is that intruders will have difficulty getting onto the grounds undetected,” the Washington Star wrote.

During the Nixon administration, nearly one-fourth of the Cabinet, along with many other White House staff members resided there. So many employees moved in that it was nicknamed “Administration Arms” or “White House West.” They included Rose Mary Woods, Nixon’s secretary from 1951 through the end of his political career, who claimed responsibility for erasing five of the missing 18 and a half minutes of audiotape. In yet another strange twist of fate, Woods’ apartment was the site of the first-ever burglary in the building. A papal medal and jewelry were stolen from her apartment.

Another famous resident? Monica Lewinsky resided there while interning in the Clinton White House.

The Watergate has always tried to avoid its association with what remains the biggest political scandal in United States history, preferring to be known as an upscale residential and commercial complex that evicted several retail tenants who attempted to capitalize on the controversy by selling memorabilia and encouraging eager tourists. In fact, as of this writing, you cannot check into the Watergate Hotel. According to its website, it is “undergoing a dramatic renovation” in anticipation of a late 2009 re-opening.

The power of a single, carefully chosen word cannot be underestimated. In this instance, “Watergate” carries a mixed legacy of ironies and emotional wallop for the millions of Americans who, like me, vividly recall, in detail, that tumultuous time. As writers, we do not have the luxury of time to thoroughly research the meaning of every term. But it is well worth our time to investigate the history and connotations of key concepts to assure we understand the words with which we craft our written product, and employ them to elicit the response from readers that we seek.

Ultimately, American history students should be required to watch the most critical portions of David Frost’s actual interviews with the former President. But Frost/Nixon is an engaging, entertaining, insightful look into the back story, detailing how the interviews came about. Juxtaposed against artful portraits of two men who had nothing in common, it is the story of how two men came together to illuminate, for entirely different purposes, a chapter in United States history, but ultimately made history. Don’t miss it.

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Topics: Colloquium on Writing, Frost/Nixon, Watergate

Scary Christmas: Holiday Reality Checks

JHS — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 00:01:14 +0000

Yesterday, another blogger asked if Christmas is the “season of goodwill to all, a time for merriment, joy, peace and … horror?” He wrote about the British tradition of incorporating “spine-tingling terror” into holiday stories. But when I first glanced at the title of his article, Scary Christmas, I thought he was going to address a very different topic.

To me, the concept of a “scary Christmas” brings up images of the contrast between the type of holiday celebrations we read and sing about — and those we sometimes actually experience. Yesterday afternoon, I performed with the Lodi Community Band in our annual Christmas concert, a gift we present to the community each year. It didn’t matter that only the sing-along at the end of the performance featured lyrical renditions of the familiar holiday tunes, because we all know the words. Many audience members sang along softly as we performed their favorite carols. As I played my flute, the words to the tunes swirled through my head, too. Consider some of the words to Leroy Anderson’s always crowd-pleasing “Sleigh Ride,” for instance:

There’s a happy feeling nothing in the world can buy
When they pass around the coffee and the pumpkin pie
It’ll nearly be like a picture print by Currier and Ives
These wonderful things are the things
We remember all through our lives.

I always find myself wondering how many folks actually feel more like Joni Mitchell.

It’s coming on Christmas
They’re cutting down trees
They’re putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

Most of us grew up expecting perfect holidays. Between the songs, stories, movies, television specials, and, especially, advertisements, we were brainwashed to believe that every moment of every Christmas season should be a magical, wondrous experience. Frequently, Christmas arrived and did not live up to the hype, leaving us to wonder what we did wrong or why our family and friends didn’t exactly match our expectations.

The reality is that many people spend holidays with relatives that they really don’t like very much, eating food that is not to their liking. They repeatedly check their watch and conspire with their spouse to discern the appropriate moment to leave, hopeful to have stayed long enough to appease the host but eager to escape a stressful environment. They dread the holiday season because they know that it brings obligations and responsibilities, including long trips to the homes of relatives with whom they would rather not have to interact. Phrases like “I guess we’d better go in order to ‘keep the peace’” and “Just do it for me, honey” are heard more this time of year than any other.

The ugly truth that most people don’t want to face — and. for the most part, prefer not to read or write about — is that the holidays don’t bring exclusively Normal Rockwell-esque moments.

I find stories about families struggling during this “most wonderful time of the year” the most intriguing, with or, preferably, without the requisite happy ending comprised of the protagonist realizing that his or her life is, after all, pretty much perfect. I find a holiday reality check cathartic and comforting. I would much rather watch a movie or read a book about a squabbling, dysfunctional family than the kind depicted on Hallmark Christmas cards.

One of the benefits of aging is the burgeoning confidence, based upon an ever-growing collection of life experiences, that Christmas will come again next year, bringing with it the same consternation and expectations. We will survive it yet again. And as the years pass, the best memories will be comprised of unexpected, surprising little moments, not the major planned events. When our loved ones are gone and we find ourselves celebrating Christmas without them, it will be the tender, funny, out-of-the-blue occurrences that we will think back on with great fondness and longing. Those are the remembrances that will sustain us.

As I get older, the inescapable truth that, on some level, Christmas is just another day becomes less frightening and I am increasingly able to embrace that actuality. Ironically, that knowledge empowers me to savor the traditional songs, carols, and stories with abandon. Each successive year, I feel less compelled to design and execute a holiday experience for myself or my family that lives up to the ones depicted therein. I am more comfortable setting limits, refusing to compromise my emotional boundaries, and, ultimately, determined to experience the “most wonderful time of the year” on my own terms.

How are your holiday preparations coming along? What aspect of the holiday season scares you, if any? How are you coping with your fear? Are you writing about it — or evading it?

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Topics: Colloquium on Writing

The Holidays in Prose

JHS — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 00:00:06 +0000

My mother read to me. There was one thing for which she always made time: Reading to her children. And she always made sure that we had plenty of books from which to choose. She purchased children’s books — many of which I still have because the tattered corners are comfortingly familiar and the illustrations seared into my memory are so charmingly quaint and old-fashioned.

I still remember the day my father took me to the Children’s Section of the Lodi Public Library and I received my very own library card after demonstrating to the satisfaction of Mrs. Smith, the beloved Children’s Librarian, that I could print my own name. I wrote “Jane” on the index card she handed me. In return, she gave me a little piece of cardboard that bore my full name just above a metal plate with a number on it. My personal library card fit perfectly into the big machine on the wooden counter. The machine made a distinctive clanging noise each time she inserted a larger card that she retrieved from the envelope glued into the front of the book I was checking out. I can still hear that sound, but am at a loss to describe it. Each time she put one of the cards into the machine to stamp a new date under the rows of prior dates — all in bluish-purple ink — her charm bracelet clanged, too, as she smiled and commented about each book I was checking out. “Oh, you’ll love this one! It’s one of my favorites,” she’d say. Or “I see you’re checking out this new book. Oh, do let me know if you like it!”

“I’ll love you forever. I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living, My baby you’ll be.”

I can still see the rows of wooden tables, the shelves of books. I can still hear the familiar creaking of the wooden floor, the sound of the glass door on the east side of the building closing as another child came in to peruse the selections or left skipping happily down the steps with the books he/she was taking home to enjoy. I still remember the sound of the door that led to the adult section of the library opening and closing as librarians went back and forth, or parents returned to retrieve their children after making their own selections in “the big room,” as we called it.

In such a setting, how could you not learn to love to read?

Reading became an integral, cherished part of my childhood. It was one of the primary ways I learned about the world that existed beyond the city limits of the little village of Lodi. Among my favorite books were those by Dr. Seuss. Well into her twilight years, my mother could still recite most of “Green Eggs and Ham” and laughed about having to read it to me over and over and over … recalling how delighted she was when I could finally read it by myself! My favorite Disney classic was always “Sleeping Beauty” because I adored Flora, Fauna and, especially, Merriweather, and loved to fear Maleficent.

Many of my fondest memories of reading revolve around the holiday season and the stories we all know so well. Among the many books from which I learned about Christmas, my favorites included “The Elves and the Shoemaker,” “The Gift of the Magi,” and a copy of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” that my mother later read to my boys.

Of course, my primary source of information came not from storybooks, but from the hymnals and other music volumes from which I learned to sing and play all of the familiar carols. I still have every one of my piano books, beginning with the big note versions, and the many different Sunday School songbooks from which I played those carols for several decades during church programs, worship services, and parties. This week I’ll be playing them on my flute during two upcoming holiday concerts.

Like my mother, I read to my children in order to make them love words as much as I do. One of my fondest memories is of my oldest reciting “Small Pig” when he was about three years old. I read it to him so many times that memorized the whole story. I still tear up when I mention “Love You Forever” which sends them both running from the room, rolling their eyes in mock horror at their daffy old sentimental mother. We read it every single night for several years. Of course, there was a time when we were purchasing four or five “Goosebumps” books every single week. They were strewn about our house, cars, my office … they would not leave the house without two or three volumes. We later boxed them up and donated them to their elementary school. And there was Harry Potter who provided inspiration for several birthday parties since the movie adaptations of the books were released on or about Matthew’s November birthday.

When the boys were very little, the most special holiday stories included “The Nutcracker” which inspired my oldest to begin collecting them. To this day, he gets several more each Christmas, although it is increasingly difficult to find unique versions. And our all-time favorite is “The Polar Express.” We received a gift set, complete with the beautifully illustrated book, a taped narration by William Hurt — and a single sleigh bell. Each year, after we put the Christmas tree up with the train running around it, we would get out the book and bell, and listen to William Hurt read the story. I have never seen the movie — and have no desire to do so. I prefer to hear the simple, narrated story against the backdrop of a softly crackling fire and, in my own imagination,embellish those drawings by the light of my very own tree.

What are your favorite holiday stories? What memories do the titles invoke? Why are they special to you? Tell me about your family’s holiday story traditions!

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Topics: Colloquium on Writing

Are You Your Brother’s Online Keeper?

JHS — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 01:00:29 +0000

“It boggles the mind.” The was the reaction from the sister of Abraham Biggs, 19. “We don’t understand,” she added.

Biggs posted his intent to take his own life on a bodybuilding internet forum message board. He included a link to the site where he was broadcasting via webcam to a live audience. His suicide was witnessed by internet viewers. And now his family, law enforcement officials, and internet users are asking how such a situation could occur — and why it wasn’t prevented from playing out to a tragic and irreversible conclusion.

Biggs had a history of depression and ingested a lethal overdose of medications prescribed to treat bipolar disorder. After he posted his plan on the messageboard, a site moderator was alerted to his writing by a forum visitor. The site owners alerted local authorities who were dispatched to his home where his lifeless body was discovered on his father’s bed.

Reports are surfacing that the webcam broadcast images of him lying on the bed for as long as 12 hours. It appears that viewers did not see him take the drugs that killed him, but he did leave a suicide note. “When (police) came in, the webfeed stopped. So that’s 12 hours of watching. They got hits, they got viewers, nothing happened for hours,” his sister said.

Even more disturbing are accounts of some viewers debating whether he had actually taken a lethal dose and urging him to take more prescription drugs. Allegedly, other viewers attempted to dissuade him, but apparently did not alert the owners of the site from which the webcast was being broadcast, ostensibly because they believed they were witnessing an internet hoax and Biggs had purportedly posted similar threats in the past.

“Technology blurs the lines between reality and that which is not real.”

Biggs’ distraught father says that the website owner-operators and audience members all share responsibility for his son’s death. “I think they are all equally wrong,” he said. “As a human being, you don’t watch someone in trouble and sit back and just watch.” He believes that his son was crying out for help when he posted about his plan.

One sociologist opines that witnesses who egged the young man on “were in essence able to depersonalize. They would not do it face to face, but in the computer medium they were able to absolve themselves of any personal responsibility for their actions.” He believes that they “absolutely not” absolved. In most jurisdictions, they cannot be held legally liable for Biggs’ actions, although some states criminalize advising another person to commit suicide. Clearly, however, “technology blurs the lines between reality and that which is not real.”

The medical examiner confirmed that “if somebody had come immediately after he took tablets, then probably not all the tablets would have been absorbed. Then, therefore, they could wash his stomach and get rid of the additional tablets. Certainly, he would have had a much better chance.”

Ultimately, Biggs is the latest disturbed individual to gain fame through death. In 2007, a British citizen hanged himself while broadcasting live and another Florida resident shot himself. Of course, the numerous individuals who have planned and carried out school or workplace shooting rampages that culminated in their suicides have also sought notoreity through their heinous acts.

This tragic episode again underscores the need for caution when using the Internet. But it also raises troubling questions about what responsibility bloggers, in addition to messageboard, forum, and social networking site users bear to look out for each other. Biggs’ post was flagged by a reader, eventually reviewed by a site moderator, and the police ultimately informed of its contents. But if a live webcam continued broadcasting for as many as 12 hours and a significant portion of the broadcast occurred, as Biggs’ family alleges, after he lost consciousness while observers casually speculated about his well-being, this event demonstrates that Internet users are capable of disconnecting from reality to the point of becoming fatally callous to the plight of other participants at various social websites.

To what extent are we our brothers’ online keeper? What responsibility do we owe our fellow Internet users? Is anyone responsibility for the tragic death of Abraham Biggs? If so, who?

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Topics: Colloquium on Writing

A Writer’s Quest: Technology on the Go

JHS — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 01:01:35 +0000

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the fact that I took advantage of a Dell promotion. Customers who purchased a 13″ or 15.4″ laptop were given the option of also buying a Dell Mini 9 for $99.00. I was very excited because I had been looking for an extremely lightweight but fully functional laptop for some time.

At that price, the Mini 9 came equipped with the Ubuntu open-source, Linux-based operating system, a 16GB hard drive, and wireless capability. I had no familiarity with Ubuntu, but the sales representative convinced me that it was comparable to and compatible with Windows so I would be able to create and open files on the Mini 9 or any of my other computers.

Unfortunately, that turned out not to be true. The first problem I encountered was an inability to load any additional programs on the hard drive because the Mini 9 would not recognize the external CD drive I also purchased specifically for that purpose. Reformatting the hard drive and installing Windows proved futile, even with my oldest son’s assistance. Worse, the software requisite to my portable wireless connectivity device was incompatible with Ubuntu.

That clinched it. Given that I had ordered a white Mini 9, but a black model was shipped to me, I returned the Mini 9.

For a few dollars more, I then became the proud owner of an Acer Aspire One.

I am in netbook heaven.

The Acer weighs just two pounds and has an 8.9″ screen, 120 GB hard drive, and 1GB of RAM. Priced at just $349, it came with Windows XP, Office, Adobe, Win DVD, MacAfee, and several other “must-have” programs installed. It is easy to install additional software using an inexpensive external CD drive, and the hard drive is large enough to store documents, music, movies, etc. if you don’t want to carry the external drive with you. I purchased a USB-powered mouse because I have never been able to get used to a touch pad mouse. There are three USB ports, as well as a webcam and microphone. The keyboard is quiet and full-sized, although the keys are a little closer together than on a traditional keyboard, but I adapted quickly. The manufacturer even included a simulated leather protective shield into which you can slip the notepad to avoid scratching the case.

Now I am ready at all times to make good use of spare moments because I always have a computer and my connectivity card in my bag.

So has my productivity increased? Yes. I am happy to report that I don’t just carry my notepad around in my purse. I use it. Regularly. Everywhere. When I recently spent four days in San Diego, it was wonderful to be able to use it in a variety of locations, including on both flights.

The holiday season is almost here, so if you are in the market for a notepad, you might want to consider asking Santa to make a special purchase. For those of you shopping for high school and college students, I can’t think of a better tool. I would have loved to own a notepad when I attended law school. I cringe when I think of the reams of hand-written lecture notes I took and can only dream of how luxurious and efficient my educational experiences would have been had this technology been available then.

Do you own a mini laptop computer? If not, have you considered purchasing one? Why or why not?

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Topics: Colloquium on Writing

Establishing Writing Goals: What’s Next?

JHS — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 08:01:11 +0000

Lipstick on a pig, a secret terrorist signal vs. a fist jab show of solidarity, Obama Girl’s crush, Paris Hilton’s faux campaign, Wardrobegate, Barack Obama’s kindergarten declaration of ambition, and, of course, Joe the Plumber!

This is Janie the Writer checking in to say, “Are you glad all of that is over?” I thought so. I am, too! But now that the 2008 election is behind us, what’s next?

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote an article in which I mentioned Sarah Palin. My desire was not to start a political debate. Rather, I was inspired by her gaffe to make a point about writing with authority by doing the hard work required.

One commenter chastised and accused me of making a “biased political statement,” while another found the article valuable, agreeing that establishing oneself as an authority can be difficult.

Unlike face to face contact — you don’t get a chance to establish rapport with people, to be able to gauge your gut instinct about someone, to laugh, share an anecdote or joke, get a chance to ask something about each other before you launch into sharing information of a different variety. The internet can be a pretty unforgiving place and you often do not get a long time to earn trust and nurture loyalty in your readers.

In the aftermath, I’ve found myself thinking a great deal about the kinds of topics I want to write about. It is a process that I have written about before — and will likely write about again. Like all writers, I find myself questioning the direction in which I want to take my writing for the foreseeable future. I think it is not only okay that I re-evaluate periodically, asking myself whether I want to focus my efforts upon a particular topic or genre. I think it is actually mandatory that serious writers engage in an ongoing, perpetual process of assessing their accomplishments and, as appropriate, redefining their writing goals.

A few months ago, one blogger actually scrapped her entire blog and started anew. I was flabbergasted when she announced her intent — and somewhat horrified. I began blogging in March 2005 and, at this writing, have published 524 articles on my primary site, not counting the many posts I have written for my other blogs. The thought of scrapping all of that hard work, often accomplished late at night when, like tonight, I really should have been sleeping in anticipation of the upcoming work day, causes me to break out in a cold sweat.

Writers have varied goals. For some bloggers, the topics covers are very personal — even intended to serve as a written legacy for the author’s children. Whatever the enunciated goals, the best way for a writer to earn the trust and engender the loyalty of his/her readers is though a clear, unequivocal assertion of his/her purpose and establishing a consistent and reliable tone. At all times, a blogger should endeavor to build a respectful rapport with regular readers. It is not necessary that readers always agree with the author’s viewpoints. Sometimes I read blog posts and think to myself, “Wow, I would not have shared that” or “I could never have written a post like that.” But, over time, even when I have that reaction, I develop a strong sense of the blogger’s unique perspective and voice.

I am still pondering my writing goals for the coming months. I may mention politics or other controversial topics … or I may not, depending upon what events or persons inspire me. Check back and see what I come up with!

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Topics: Colloquium on Writing

The Value of a Change of Scene

JHS — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 23:01:36 +0000

Writers are on a constant, never-ending quest for inspiration. At times, it simply lands in front of us like an unsolicited gift. At other times, it is elusive. Life’s responsibilities invade our consciousness, weigh us down, and rob us of our creative, innovative spirit.

Sometimes the solution is as simple as a period of respite. A change of scene can do us wonders. But we get so wrapped up in the daily grind that we forget this simple principle.

For me, the ideal change of scene always involves the sea. There is nowhere I would rather be — aside from my home — than on a beach: Winter or summer, rain or shine. This was the view I spent a good portion of yesterday afternoon considering:

After four days in San Diego, I am home and the brief change of scene, coupled with the soft, ocean breezes, has refreshed and invigorated me.

Is there a special place to which you retreat when you need a change of scene and a period of respite from your daily responsibilities and routine? Where is it? Why is it special to you?

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Topics: Colloquium on Writing