The Case of the Missing Ponytail

It took me three years to complete a rough draft of my first novel, much of which I wrote under duress during a wicked breakup. Hot off the press, I sent the first copy to my father. {My dad has always been my writing inspiration, my biggest literary cheerleader. While I love my mom, to this day she hasn’t read the book. “I read a couple pages and keep falling asleep!” Unless I’m planning on marketing this to insomniacs, let’s hope for better reviews.}
I’ve since sent it to many other friends and it was resoundingly decided that the ending “sucked.” And there was a character no one understood. And what about that one guy in the hospital and where did he end up going?
There were holes in the plot and in this fragile time of life I wasn’t ready for criticism. My skin was thin and I just wanted everyone to tell me how I was a literary genius at the ripe age of 25! No dice.
Like everything else in life, success in writing was going to come from heaps of work and dedication. I re-read the story, made a few minor changes — insisting my ending was realistic and perfect! — and sent it off to agents far and wide. The rejection letters promptly started arriving and I cried. Oh, how I cried.
Then I found an agent who was willing to read it. Better yet, he wanted to talk about it. Bob talked for hours — two hours actually. I listened, taking detailed notes for the first hour. I cleaned the house during the second. He hated the ending too, but he loved the characters. We’d never met, he hadn’t read my blog, he didn’t know my story. Yet, as he spoke, I felt like he truly understood my vision. He knew me because he knew my art and that was a powerful feeling I’d never before experienced. It made me more optimistic and hopeful than I’d been in a long time. With a list of edits, and a much better ending, he said this could be published.
Six months later, I pulled out those notes and began the tedious process of changing significant characters and part of the plot. I am about a quarter of the way finished and I find this work exhausting in the best sense. It pushes me creatively and I look forward to the hour here and there I can grab to write, edit and read. That said, holy moly do I wish this book was ready for print. I really want to start writing the next story. I’m doubly motivated because it dawned on me this week — what if I’ve let so much time pass Bob no longer wants to help? Then what?
Oprah, now is the time to delurk.

~K

Eggs:
Not Even a Glimpse of Hillary Pie

Ingredients:
4 eggs, whisked in a large bowl
1 cup milk
1 cup of cheese — I used a mix of feta and cheddar
veggies of your liking — I used asparagas, broccoli and spinach that I steamed beforehand and a tomato for garnish
1 small onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic
2 tablespoons of olive oil
dash of salt, pepper
Pie crust of your liking. For the pie I used frozen phyllo I had in the freezer. For the mini quiche, I used a pie crust I made at Christmas and had lfrozen, left-over.

Directions:
Heat the oven to 375. Grease your pie plate or cupcake tin. Make sure your pie crust is thawed and place in plate. If you are using a basic pie crust recipe for the mini quiche, take a small ball of pastry and smush it into the bottom of the greased tin.

In a saucepan, heat your oil and add your minced garlic and onion. Cook 7-10 minutes, until translucent. Add other vegetables and 1/2 of cheese, until thoroughly mixed. Add your milk to the whisked eggs. Add a dash of salt and pepper to the egg/milk mixture. Then pour veggies into this bowl and mix thoroughly. Pour into pie crust. Sprinkle remaining cheese on top and add a tomato for garnish, if so desired. Bake 40-50 minutes — until eggs are golden and your kitchen smells like breakfast nirvana.

Toast:

Holy hell. I saw “There Will Be Blood” last night and it is really good. The acting is superb. Daniel Day Lewis is so creepy and enchanting. Paul Dano, the icky brother from “Little Miss Sunshine,” is absurdly believeable. It is a violent, but great flick. I liked the storyline of “No Country for Old Men” better; it was more intriguing. However, the acting in “There Will Be Blood” is unreal. Five out of five bananas, absoloodle.

Cup of Joe:

Need a great book? Pick up, A Year of Pleasures by Elizabeth Berg. If I could jump into this book and live with the characters, I would in a heartbeat. Sweet, charming, great read. Four out of five bananas.

~K

I want to be a novelist because I have this story rattling around in my brain. I can see the characters. I can taste the food I’m describing. I can smell the smoky air in Mozambique and the pollution in Phoenix — my settings. I have conversations with the characters in my dreams, which completely rocked my boat the first time it happened. I know who I want to play their roles when this tale hits the big screen.
I want to be a novelist because I am my happiest when I am writing. I love sharing stories, which I’m sure is why I also enjoy blogging and traveling. When I go into a bookstore, I always go to the literary section to see where my books would be on the shelf. One day, they will all be lined up right there between Donleavy and Dostoevsky. In the meantime, I push a gap between those who have published before me and visualize my stories in print, the title the spine, a quick and grabbing summary on the back.
I want to be a novelist because I want others to see a new perspective — the world travels of a well-meaning girl who simply wants to leave the earth better than when she arrived. My stories are fundamentally a part of me — I can’t imagine any writer feeling otherwise.
For the first time in a long time, I’m feeling rejuvenated in my writing and am making great progress on the hurculean task of editing novel numero uno. The carrot at the end of the stick, other than my dreams of sitting on the yellow couch, is addressing the characters in story numero dos, who are crying in the corner from neglect.
~K

I’ve been reading a bunch during the holiday mini-break. I just finished one of the best books I’ve read in a very long time. If you are interested in globalization, South America, Bolivia, NGOs, environmentalism, indigenous rights or politics, I highly recommend “Whispering in the Giant’s Ear.” Written by William Powers, this is a nonfiction tale of a nonprofit worker’s experience in Bolivia during recent and on-going political turmoil. His perspective is so completely different from mine, and considering I’m a nonprofit worker whose passport has more than one Bolivian stamp, I truly enjoyed his writing.
One scene, where he is out in the middle of the Amazon with a group of indigenous coworkers when their truck gets stuck in the mud. Everyone but the writer knows that bees will find them within a few minutes. Thousands of bees. They need to get the truck unstuck pronto. He writes about this scene with such clarity and humor:
“Gaspar now changes tack. He puts a tiny hand on my shoulder and says, “You are a bee.”
I momentarily forget the pain of my stings and look down at Gaspar’s slight, finely wrought face. He continues “Just relax. If you don’t get nervous, no pasa nada.” By tensing up, he explains, I was going against the “bee energy” and causing them to react against me. I needed to go with the flow.
With fresh resolve, I turn and walk back toward the dreaded pickup. As the buzzing sounds builds, I repeat to myself, “You are a bee. You are a bee.” I slide into the front seat, remarkably calm, repeating my mantra and gently shooing a bee… They perch on my eyelashes and eyebrows, burrow in my hair, explore my leg hairs. You are a bee. I was a bee! Not a single sting and their little legs, which had felt so creepy-crawly, are now just a light tickle. That they are not stinging further builds my confidence. I am fully relaxed, the communal buzz a gigantic om.

At other times his words simply struck a cord and I found myself dog-earing page after page, hoping the library wouldn’t mind.
My parents’ asceticism, including a strict TV protocol, inoculated me from consumerism more than many of my peers, but I am far from immune. There’s the Gap, its doors revolving, consumer in, consumer out, and I hesitate. Harvard Sociologist Daniel Bell warned us in 1976 , our bicentennial year, about “the cultural contradictions of capitalism,” arguing that while capitalism hinges on such virtues as asceticism, thrift and self-denial, it produces social surpluses that lead to luxury, deepened materialism, nurture acquisitiveness, and turn self-indulgence into a birthright. Tocqueville too predicted that self-centeredness and egotism would be “democracy’s temptation.”

Four out of five bananas, absoloodle.

For brain candy, I’m now inhaling “A Thousand Splendid Suns,” which couldn’t be more appropriate to read with this week’s news of Bhutto’s murder. It is about women in Afghanistan and how completely and totally crazy life is under their changing politics in the last 30 years. Khaled Hosseini had me at “Kite Runner,” but he may have just made me a fanatic. So far, four out of five bananas. {And I don’t just through those bananas around mamsy pansy.}

If you are looking for a great movie, see Juno. Loved it. An interesting, exceptionally violent and mildly confusing movie? No Country for Old Men. I’ve got to find the book now, the film bothered me so. This weekend I hope to see Kite Runner and I am Legend.

The television writers may be on strike, but I’m not crying. Instead, I’m curled up with a cup of tea and a new quilt, without a to do list, happily enjoying cleaning up the neglected book shelves in my studio and watching the dust gather on my television.
~Kelli

Salty and I took off after work last night for Tucson, through a rocking thunderstorm — which if you’ve never experienced in the desert, it is quite a rare treat — for dinner and a concert. While the rain left us both turned around and late, we headed for a cafe counter for a quick meal and slid into the Rialto just in time to see LifeSavas and OzoMatli.
Holy moly.
I’m fairly new to the Ozomatli fan club but last night I signed my name in blood. I have rarely seen such an amazingly talented group of musicians pour so much energy into a show. There were maybe 8-10 members on the stage playing a variety of instruments — clarinet, saxophone, keyboard, guitar, drums, bongos, maracas, tambourine and in a move Will Ferrell would have loved — I’m pretty sure I even saw a cowbell. Not only did they use these instruments to get the entire floor bouncing and dancing like mad, but then they’d switch. Members switched instruments mid-song, each took a turn at singing, they danced and they were so worth the drive and the crazy headache from lack of sleep this morning.

Yeow! I loved it. Plus, the crowd was as eclectic as the music. There were people of all ages — children to retirees — and of all races. This sort of diversity is rarely seen in Arizona, so I was celebrating that as much as the tunes. I can’t wait to see them again. Five stars, absoloodle.

~K

P.S. Yes, we did nearly die of laughter once we realized Modest Mouse (a fave) is playing tonight and we were there last night. We must have missed that memo. I think Adam is considering making it double Tucson show run for the week.

I was reading my public health journal when I came across a poignant interview with Laurie Garrett — who recently won a Pulitzer for her book. To be honest, I hadn’t heard of her or of the book until I read this interview. I was refreshingly impressed by the what she had to say, including her answer to the interviewer’s question of “do you think global public health efforts are winning?”

[What a dumb question! 100 million people are expected to be infected with HIV by 2010. We are certainly not winning anything other than job security.]

Regardless, her thoughtful response:

“Winning, to my mind, has on obvious goal post — life expectancy. And by that measure, we have a paradox. Since 1948 when the World Health Organization was created, average life expectancy for the people of planet Earth has risen by 40 percent. This has overwhelmingly been due to a combination of public health infrastructural interventions and rising personal wealth and education.
But, if you break that 40% down, remember that is an average, something very disturbing pops up. The long-lived societies are getting more long-lived, while the short-lived societies are either failing to improve, or thanks to wars and HIV, are going backward. So, today the life expectancy gap is the widest in human history with a disparity of five full decades. What this means is that a very long-lived society like Japan now offers, as a matter of statistical probability, a child born in 2007 the probability of living long enough to know his/her great-grandchildren. In contrast, very short-lived societies like Sierra Leone, Nepal or Zimbabwe now offer that same child only a remote possibility to live long enough to see his/her children reach adulthood. That is a crime.
The ‘win’ as far as I am concerned, would be closing that gap.”

Bravo! This sums up exactly why I love working in international public health.

~K

I took yesterday off and spent most of the day on the couch. I went through my unwieldy Domestic Bliss folder and got myself organized in the recipe and pattern departments. It was a task I’d been meaning to do for a long time. Yesterday all I wanted to do was sit — so it worked out perfectly.
I also found a couple of patterns I’d been wanting to try. First, this triangulated zipper pouch tutorial from Craftster.

In theory, it is perfect. It gives depth to your pouch and the tutorial is well written. However, it is tiny. Next time I’ll double the dimensions to make this a more useful size.

I also tried that plastic fusing tutorial that’s been receiving rave reviews. It takes a bit of practice figuring out the right heat and timing, but the result is pretty cool. I’ve had a bag idea floating around my head for about a month and I plan on using this for the lining. I need to sit down with my journal and put my ideas into workable sketches.

On a completely different note, saw Lars and the Real Girl last night. I am torn on whether to recommend this movie; Ryan Gosling is so, so good. However, it is one of those movies that makes you incredibly uncomfortable to watch. I felt the same way watching Robin Williams in One Hour Photo. If you are a Ryan fan, I say go for it. If you are looking for an odd, off beat film that is sweet, it is worth the money. If peculiar films aren’t your thing — steer clear. Three out of five bananas, absoloodle.

Cheers,
K

Yesterday I logged 450 miles in my car, crisscrossing (jump! jump!) across Southern Arizona. I had four freelance travel articles I’m working on for the local paper, and a free day to gather a bunch of photography and interviews. Voila — a day with lots of coffee, lots of driving and catching up on podcasts, and several times when I caught myself feeling a bit like Nancy Drew, out on the hunt for a clue.
Here is a random assortment of photos taken during my day, including the two hours I spent with a nun at a monastery. Nope, that’s not a punch line. And no, I’m not Catholic. It was a peaceful yet unsettling experience.

Tucson:

Coffee shop at the Hotel Congress.

Floor made of pennies!

Bisbee:

I love the historic details in these old hotels.

St. David:

That cross is gigantic — about 6 stories tall. Luckily, St. David has a population of less than 1,000 I’d guess. So no one is complaining too much about the showy monks.

~K

Last week a friend asked me to take some photos for his new company. He and some friends have created a clothing line that I happen to really like. In fact, I went to one of their fashion shows this summer and broke my “no new clothes” policy and bought one of their tank tops.
This is from the photo shoot on Friday, ala pretty model:

And this would be me in the gift shop at the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago last weekend.

No wonder why my modeling career never got off the ground. That said, I still love that tank. I’ve worn the tar out of it this summer, with a cheapie $5 Old Navy tank underneath. My no new clothing rule is about to be broken anyway. I’ve got that 10 year reunion coming up and I’ve got my eye on a new pair of stupidly expensive jeans and wedges.

On an entirely different note, I read a ton of great books while traveling that are worth mentioning. One of my favorite new books of all time is “The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint.” Wowie, wow, wow, as my friend Erin would say. It is a beautifully written story and I cannot recommend it highly enough. Five out of five bananas absoloodle.
I also read “Other Voices, Other Rooms.” This is Truman Capote’s first novel, which was published when he was 23. His writing is lyrical and so southern. I enjoyed it. Three out of five bananas.
“Somebody’s Heart is Burning,” is a good West Africa travel read. I’ve had different experiences traveling through Africa, but I liked what she had to say all the same. It is a good read. Three out of five bananas.
“Citizen Girl” was passed along to me by a friend and I couldn’t get through the first chapter. I thought it was horrible. Goes to show you that everyone has wildly different opinions on books because this thing received great reviews nationally. One out of five bananas.
“Memoirs of a Geisha” was great and wow, I feel so much better for finally having pushed myself through this read. I have picked this book up and read the first 100 pages about 5 times. Thankfully, I used some layover time to get into the next 100 pages and then couldn’t put it down. Four out of five bananas.
Next up, I read “Snow Falling on Cedars,” which is an interesting read after “Geisha” because they both deal with the Japanese community in the same time period, but in Japan and the US. I was impressed by the author’s knowledge of so many subjects in this book. I felt like he taught me a little about a lot of things, and I enjoyed his story-telling. Four out of five bananas.
I also read through a bit of “Nancy Drew Girl Sleuth” and found the story behind my favorite children’s books entertaining. Three out of five bananas. And Oprah’s BFF Dr. Oz hooked me into reading “You on a Diet.” I did learn some new stuff and I think he’s got solid advice for how you can get your eating habits back on track and find your natural weight. Ah, common sense.

I am currently reading “Wuthering Heights” (I am tutoring a high school student) and “Living Your Best Life Now” — which I am loving.

Have you read anything fantastic lately?
~K

Dear Dad,
Remember how you moved from Phoenix to San Antonio a couple years ago? Well, I’ve endured. It hasn’t been fun paying $400 every time I want to see my mom, but I’ve kept my complaints to a minimum. In all fairness, the last time I visited I kind of liked it. You know, the whole Texas thing. The big hair, big style, big Christian spirit. It was fun and God knows it was friendly.
Friendly Dad. You Texans are normally so sweet and kind. Everyone — and I mean everyone — stops to say good morning. People hold doors open. There is this state-wide phenomena of amazing manners. (Minus the one rule about not invading other countries, but that’s an entirely different post and last time I checked, there were plenty of Texans asking DC to keep the idiot.)
So, with all that friendliness in mind, what the hell is wrong with Robert Horry? The dude is just mean. If I see you even think of cheering for those darned Spurs, Cody and I are going to throw a fit making even your resident desperate housewife take note for the dramatics.
Now, let’s all say it together: GO SUNS!
We Arizonans have a history of amazing comebacks, after all.

Love,
Kelli