Tag: inspiration

I wanted to write about friendship because it’s the word that I most associate with Miss Demeanors. These women are not only marvelous writers, but they are also marvelous human beings. I’ve lost count of the number of times someone has shared a kind thought or helpful piece of advice. I really can’t imagine the past two years without them.

Keep reading to find out how ratty slippers were nominated for an award

 To the families and friends of those lost at Parkland, Tree of Life, Thousand Oaks, Santa Fe High, the Capitol Gazette, and at so many more inexplicable moments of mass violence that they have become an  unforgivable blurred memory of terror; To those who lost loved ones or are without homes after the wild fires throughout California; To those who have lost loved ones or are without homes after horrific hurricanes in Florida, North and South Carolina, Virginia, and still Puerto Rico; To those who have lost loved ones to illness and age; To those who are separated from loved ones by their service to our country; To those who have lost or are separated from loved ones by the ravages of opioid addiction; To those who are alone or separated from loved ones for reasons no one seems to understand; I understand the emptiness of “thoughts and prayers” as you sit at a Thanksgiving table with empty chairs today. As you sit at a table in a shelter or with strangers who have made room for you at their tables. As you defy the Norman Rockwell image of the holiday. Thoughts and prayers are only words. But words offer acknowledgement and acknowledgement is the seed of action. Though my words may be inept, I honor those missing from your Thanksgiving table today.         

My subconscious is on some serious stuff. It must take it while I’m asleep.  Last night, I woke up to the frightening music of my dog’s intestinal track (if you have been fortunate enough to have a dog live past ten years, then you understand). As a result, I remembered my ENTIRE dream . I was in Jamaica, chatting with my dead grandfather. He gave me sugar bun, a Jamaican concoction that is exactly what it sounds like: a bread, “bun”, made with raisins and glazed with sugar. I then took my kids out into the backyard where he showed me rabbits dressed up in human clothing, much to my children’s delight. My husband insisted that he had to go because hanging out with dead people was giving him the willies. I let him go and ate the bun.  This will make it’s way into a story–mark my words.  The story for my last thriller, Lies She Told, came to me in a dream–partially. I went to bed, after a glass of red wine, thinking about where I would get my next thriller idea from and I had a nightmare about this woman in a seedy Brooklyn apartment with blood on her hands. I felt that I was watching her from above or slightly over her shoulder. Close third person, in other words. She didn’t look like me, but I had the sense that she was me. And, after that, I wrote a thriller about a writer and the character in her head that may, or may not, be based on her–perhaps without her consent or conscious knowledge.  A lot of art, I believe, is taking what our subconscious mind gives us and rationalizing it until we have something that translates into a kind of story for broader consumption.  It’s late. I wonder what I’ll dream up next…    

Because we can all use a little more playfulness in our lives, I asked my fellow Miss Demeanors what they do for fun, and how they fit it into their lives.  I wanna play date with everyone! Robin: I have lots of outdoor recreation available where I live and I make the most of it – bicycling, hiking, running, kayaking. My schedule is flexible so I’m able to incorporate playing outside for at least an hour, 3 – 4 days a week. My favorite play days are what I call my “weekend triathlons”: 2 mile run or hike (with or without the dog), 20 mile bike ride, an hour in my hot tub (with or without a glass of wine). Paula: Do I really have to go after Robin? I do a little yoga and walk the dog most every day. In the summer, I kayak and paddle-board. In the winter I like snowshoeing and ice skating. Susan: This may not sound that exciting, but I have recently started a 5,000 piece jigsaw puzzle of the Sistine Chapel. I find working on puzzles so relaxing. It keeps my hands busy but my mind can roam all over the place.  Tracee: I’m more on Susan’s wavelength. I love a puzzle! Especially in winter. For me recreation is a museum. Although reading, the theater, and movies are also on the play list. Can I list travel? That’s play. I tried to bring “museum” and “puzzle” together last winter and bought a puzzle of a Vermeer painting. Seemed like a good idea until I started….. lots and lots of dark similar colors. That one went back in the box and is the equivalent of coal in a stocking. Right now I’m looking forward to my first transatlantic sea voyage…. and calling that a lot of play! Alexia: Urban exploration is my idea of play. The built environment fascinates me, especially structuresbuilt “back in the day” when both form and function mattered and things were constructed to last. I love art so discovering hidden street art is a joy, as is going to art museums and galleries. I love the symphony. I’ve got season tickets to both the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and the Lake Forest Symphony. I love the experience of eating a good meal. It’s not just about the food; the environment and presentation matter, too. The same goes for a good drink. I enjoy exploring new (new to me, anyway) whiskies and cocktails. I’ve learned to pay attention to the aromas and flavors and the different layers that are revealed between lips and back of tongue. And I’m learning more about pairing whiskey with food. One of my favorite places to eat (and drink) is the Deerpath Inn in Lake Forest, as you’ve probably guessed if you’ve seen my Instagram feed. The Chicago Athletic Association is another favorite place. Discovering new, unique hotels is fun for me. Every hotel prompts daydreams of working it into a mystery. Of course, I never tell hotel staff that I’m peering into the corner because I’m trying to decide if it’s a good place to hide a body. Michele: I’m a big proponent of play dates. When I feel filled to the brim with whatever human misery I’m experiencing or witnessing, I take off for a day. I might drive to a nursery to check out special plants for my garden or head for a museum exhibit. Sometimes I’ll just take a long solo walk through the beautiful Audubon sanctuary I live next to or on one of Cape Cod’s gorgeous beaches. The point is to get out of my head, regain my perspective, and hopefully have a good laugh and a delicious lunch along the way. Cate: I love to travel and I play a bunch with my kids. Here’s my daughter and I in Ireland doing the Drake Keke “shiggy” challenge.  … I admit it, I kinda wanna do the Shiggy now.

Two weeks ago, I had my first reading of Blessed be the Wicked at The King’s English in Salt Lake City. I haven’t lived in Utah since I graduated from high school a very long time ago. Still, Utah’s a place always close to my heart. My pioneer ancestors helped settle Deseret in the mid-nineteenth century. I grew up listening to my mom tell stories of her grandpa’s ranch out in Grantsville. The farm hands were up at the crack of dawn, and when they came in from the first labor of the day, around dawn, my great grandma would feed them steak, eggs, and potatoes for breakfast. Meanwhile, my mom would sneak spoon fulls of cream from the top of milk jugs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen happier grins than what I saw in the frayed black-and-white photo of my great grandpa in striped overalls with my mom by his side on his tractor. Grantsville, Utah, in the late 1940s was a place where people knew to cherish time. As a rancher, my great grandpa had plenty of work that had to be done. He did it and he did it well. If you’re a farmer and a rancher, there’s nothing to be gained by cutting corners. When he finished what needed to be finished, though, he knew there was more to life. From the stories, I know he knew how to have fun. He took my mom out on the horses, he let her drive the tractor, he watched her climb trees. I never knew my Great Grandpa Brown. I only know him through my mom’s and my grandma’s stories. HE laughed a lot. He smiled. He knew how to live. Getting work done was important, but so was playing. It’s a lesson I’m trying to apply in my own life. We need to get our work done: yes. We need to do the best job we can: yes. Then, we need to play: absolutely. So do what you need to do. Do it well. Then, climb a tree.