There's nothing like putting your only kid on an airplane too early on Mother's Day to start the supposed special day off badly, and then trying to find a place open for breakfast. So the DH and Mmmmm did the coffee thing at Seattle's Best and decided to try our no-reservations-luck at one of our favorite restaurants, an Asian fusion bistroish cafe on 4th.

The enterprising folks there had their youngest posted outside at a long table groaning with cut flowers and potted plants for Mom. We entered the restaurant filled with families feting Mom and were seated within three minutes in a booth, no less. Yay! Got menus, water. Passed on the coffee. Then the hell began. Maybe fifteen minutes later we ordered. Usually service is fairly good and the food yummy. But not today. Oh my. If Gordon Ramsey had been running the "pass" (a la Hell's Kitchen), jesusmarimba, the kitchen staff would have been reduced to sobbing sushi long before we arrived.

I've watched enough of that show and Top Chef to be familiar with how a commercial kitchen is supposed to work--or Hollywood's idea of it, anyway. So, I began to entertain my bored mother self by observing the kitchen and the wait staff. Lots of orders going in, nothing coming out. Lots of hungry people coming in, no one leaving--probably because no one was getting any food. You know how Ramsey is always yelling about the importance of the donkeys communicating in the kitchen? Well, Hell*s Grill on 4th employs mimes, I think. I didn't see or hear anyone saying anything. The three chefs spent a lot of time silently frowning up at what I presume was a line of order tickets strung across the inside of the pass window. They didn't talk or confer with one another as one, two or even all three would go stone still gazing into heaven.

Apparently, the owners had prevailed upon the whole family to work in the restaurant on this busy day. Tables did get bussed, but that's again due to the fact that while we were there few diners left. If you ordered coffee, you had to take micro sips because you weren't getting refills, even if you eventually got the first cup. Same with the water. We actually waited for our breakfast over an hour. No kidding. And I think it's because we like this place and the people. We were cutting them big slack. BUT when my eggs benedict, which they do very nicely, came out cold and greasy with the sauce watery from undrained poached eggs, my slack-cutting was done. We'd never been offered more water or asked how things were after the dishes were slapped on the table. After we waited even longer for the check, our usual waitress said nothing but gave us the most pathetic, harried look as she slid the check on the table and slipped away to stare longingly into the hellish kitchen that was serving up big portions of slooooooow and cold that would tickle the Slowskys senseless.

You have to hand it to American mothers and their families. All in all, we're a polite, kind lot. No one in the restaurant threw an ugly or even complained, and boy, did we have just cause. We simply waited. Visited with our families and friends. Learned to make a cup of coffee or water last for an hour and looked forward to getting the hell out of the Grill on 4th. And the rest of my Mother's Day was magnificent in comparison. So, it's all good.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

One of my dear friends took a sabbatical from the day job and has spent the last couple of years writing full time. She emailed today and lamented how she regreted "frittering away" her time chasing her many interests instead of seeing something through to fruition. Now in this economy, she's worried that she is going to have to return to work soon and her precious opportunity will have been wasted.

In the last few days, I've had virtually the same concerns voiced to me three times. Could be the full moon. Whatever the reason, I'm so gratefull for this newest wakeup as over the course of my life, people have readily judged me and my determination to pursue my creative interests. Many years ago, I was giving an inspirational talk to a group of university women on the subject of personal creativity. The woman, a biologist, who introduced me called me an enthusiastic dilattante. I later had to look the word up as I had never actually had it applied to me. Hmmm, a very French way of calling someone a jack of all trades and master of none. I was quite surprised as I felt very masterful on many levels as I pursued my interests. I get the spark or bonfire of interest in something, research and experience it and, as Obi Wan Kanobi says, I "Move along, move along." But it ain't easy being green or perceived as a dabbler, yet I persevere. "See," I say, "I can stick to something."

So it is from that perspective that I wrote to my friend the following:

My dear ________, despite what society and parents teach, I've found hanging in to fruition is oft overrated ;>)) Some things (experiences) are meant for exploration and don't necessarily need to be seen through to the end, IMO, or let's say in my case. Highly creative people really have more ideas flowing in than they can deal with. Everything seems interesting and promising, and the truth is they are all that and more--it depends on what we allow! From the creative growth perspective, anyway. From the nose-to-the-grindstone perspective of most people, such creative journeys seem wastefully dilettante and plain wrong. That's a flawed judgment, I believe. But one does have make a living, we know. What we don't seem to get is that we truly can have all worth having and doing.

For several months I got DVDs from Netflix on the Impressionists. Wowowow, those people lived for their art. And suffered greatly--not enough income for food, housing, paints. But some became very famous and rich, too--Monet, Picasso--while they were alive. I found their single minded vision inspiring yet terrifying, because they were determined to be revolutionary, but thought they had to suffer for their not working at a regular job or "wasting' their time pursuing their creative interests that ran contrary to those of society. The artists who did finally "make it" were equally single minded about their art, but they were "savvy", if you will, about how to balance their lives around that vision. And that's the trick. The true creative journey is never either/or. The journey is AND.

Try not to regret how you've spent your time. What a marvelous gift you've given yourself and you will continue to benefit from your sabbatical. Enjoy the ride. Keep your eye on where you want to go despite what others believe or the economy seems to suggest. And as you rejoice in your freedom to explore and create, your vision just may grow in the most miraculous ways that will astound and fulfill your every need. Believe it! I do.
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

You know how it is if you're the first kid to leave home, you suddenly discover how much of an economic drain you've apparently been on the family. The sister gets a car and her own room. The brother gets to charge cool clothes at the "Toggery" to the parents' account without paying back from an after school job. The fam moves to a larger, nicer house with a functioning dishwasher and Mom gets an Amana Radar Range microwave oven.

However, this MMMLog isn't about birth order goodies and baddies. Mmmmm's talking about one of her favorite things: technology, ancient to be sure. The Amana Radar Range. I think Mom bought hers in 1968-69 shortly after the microwave oven's debut. Almost twenty years later she gave it to me and it still nuked nicely. We moved it to Louisville where I sold it at a garage sale for a very small amount, though the savvy buyer probably knew if for what is was--a valuable electronic antique.

The "portable" Amana Radar Range Microwave oven must have weighed 30 or 40 pounds and was clad in shiny metal, probably highly polished lead to shield the cook and the neighbors from the magnetron's deadly waves. Mom did worry about the oven's possible leaking and never stood in front of the darned thing when it was nuking her perfectly "fried" egg, something I've never been able to duplicate with any microwave oven. Mom could make that Radar Range tap dance as well as decently cook anything she she put in there on a paper plate or towel. Actually, I learned to nuke a cup of tea from my dad who puts teabag with tag into the cup of water and zaps for a couple of minutes. But what about the metal staple, you ask. I think in the old days it might have blown the door off the Radar Range, just kidding, but with today's microwaves there's no sparks or dancing blue lights. Yeah, I've seen it happen--on an Alaskan cruise in a Seattle Museum of the Mysteries seminar. A local "scientist", I think you've got to call him, demonstrated a number of interesting "effects" in a microwave--zapping steel wool, other metals and materials. Absolutely fascinating, though I did notice that the audience (Mmmm leading the pack) who had crowded around the small microwave as if it were a punchbowl, moved their chairs way back at the first terrifying light show of agitated electrons.

My webmistress tells me that MMMLog has a nice ranking but seems it's a bit unfocused as I tend to blog about whatever interests me on a given day instead of strictly writing about my books, workshops and other related Mmmmm Brand products as most do online. In my mind, my interests and experiences flow together to create an MMMMMmm perspective, however commercially unfocused, that may be helpful or inspiring in some way to me and to itinerate keyword searchers and regular readers of the inward spiraling stream of consciousness that is MMMLog.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMelinda

A Personal Economy
When I signed into MMMLOG today it didn't know me as it has been a few, dare I admit it, "months" since I last posted. Can't really say what moved me to actually step up to MMMLOGing nearly the last day in the first month of 2009. Finally the right time, I guess.

So, perhaps like Mmmmmm, you have been trying to make sense of world events and the so-called New Economy, which I believe we are each reflecting in our own individual Me-economies or lives in varying degrees. Of course, we're all constantly affected or conditioned by, more than most realize, the "media outlets" we're plugged into. For the past six months I've started my day with CNBC, which I don't recommend because it's as addictive and as bad for one as that first cigarette of the morning. If you've been doing the news you'll know the world financial crisis, layoffs, bailouts, plummeting stock market and continual bottom-calling that doesn't materialize can negatively skew your outlook on the future.

I've always been business-oriented or perhaps economy-minded, my personal Meconomy being the most interesting to me. However, conglomerates of people known as countries, economies, governments, stockholders and consumers are mostly interested in their own personal Meconomies, too. And because of this individual Me-economic bias, I wonder if there can be any truly objective economic forecasting to be had anywhere? Perhaps people can only relate to what threatens to be a global economic catastrophe when it gets personal. They get laid off. The corner Starbucks closes. The friendly neighborhood bank is TARPed over by an international megabankcorp. Upside down doesn't apply to your favorite cake anymore but to the house and car loans. Or, like one of the contractors who's putting my house back together after a pipe broke under the upstairs bath last month, he's worried his business will disappear completely while he's using free airline tickets to Australia to visit the wife's family.

Even if we don't seem to be directly affected by the world's apparent economic meltdown because we're still working, paying the bills and managing to save a bit, it doesn't mean that we aren't feelin' it because media makes sure we do. Most people I talk to seem to feel that while their own Meconomies are doing okay, they're waiting for another other doom shoe to drop off the economic octopus that will put them up Poverty Creek without a propulsion instrument.

Personally, I'm going to swear off my morning cuppa hemlock news in favor of increased productivity, inspirational profit sharing, and constant blessings accounting that are guaranteed to depression-proof Mmmmmeconomy, and the world's, I pray.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmelinda

I've just finished the blog, Author Economics:Investing in Yourself, for Novelists, Inc at www.ninc.com. It's scheduled to post on my birthday, August 18. I'm not blogging about my special day in that one or here. I'm gonna whine about Netflix.

So, how's long has it been since you got a Netflix dvd in the mail? It's five days for me and I'm in deep withdrawal, resorting to mentally replaying the last movie because I watched and returned same day, though my queue hasn't been credited for it. Luckily, it was Juno and I really enjoyed the clever, snappy dialogue. I did worry that my YA novels' characters the age of Juno weren't nearly so hip and glib. But my sister, a movie and kid expert, assures me that most teens aren't so Hollywood cool.

Netflix sent that sorry, shipping problems email pretty dang late, IMO. It was only today online that I read they'd resumed shipping but Netflix hasn't told me that. We've had our share of shipping problems, too. If I mail from home or the post office, Netflix gets them next day. If I send the returns with the DH and he drops them in the in-house mail at the office, Netflix doesn't get them. But some mail room employee does, apparently. If this thing doesn't resolve soon, I may have to click on the Instant Ten films available for online viewing. Though the Windows media player on this HP often gets cranky and hangs when I PIP the player beside the window I'm working in. And though my monitor is a really nice wide screen, I'd rather watch on the big screen downstairs rather than try to work and watch.

I like Netflix much better than going to the theatres full of commentators, crying babies and bored little kids people don't seem to have the good manners to leave at home. I constantly update my queue, going far afield for new stuff that will both entertain and enlighten me. My queue has about 70+ goodies waiting to ship. Sigh. This no shipping situation must be resolved as I really must get started on those History of Britain, 1-5, dvds, not to mention Stomp! Stomp Out loud.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMelinda, Netflixless in Seattle

Pacific Northwest Writers Association's annual summer conference is one of the biggest in the Northwest. There are always interesting people at this low key, casual conference who are pursuing publication in every fiction genre imaginable, as well as nonfiction and literary. PNWA usually boasts a good number of editors and agents that are equally well-pursued by attending writers. I like meeting these writers because they're full of great stories and a bright hope that's pretty contagious. They want information and an "in" in the publishing world, and if they can combine the two in the offered workshops, all the better.

I presented the seminar, Internet Promotions for Every Writer, on Thursday afternoon to a packed house. Because of the nature of the program, I determined that a PowerPoint show would best demonstrate select effective promotional author websites and MySpace pages, podcasts, YouTube book videos and blog sites. I'd requested a projector when asked about AV needs prior to the conference. But my looooong experience as a speaker, teacher and trainer compelled my distrust of having what I need "provided" at a speaking venue so I bought my own projector. I also took a multiplug and extension cord. Good thing, too, as the large room was not only devoid of requested AV, it had striped wallpaper. Wheeeeeee! Next time I'll take a screen, if the gig is local. Thanks goodness I had a fabulous support team with me--my critique partners Lisa Wanttaja and DeeAnna Galbraith. They helped me set up and took down afterwards when I was meeting attendees. Lisa also videoed my presentation, which I'll edit and post to my site and on DVD that I'll make available as a "gift with purchase" of any of my books.

I had such a great time at PNWA, that it made me nostalgic for the early days of MMMmmm pre-published authoring when I attended every RWA (Romance Writers of America)annual conference in some far away city in the dead of summer with a couple thousand other romance writers. All of us were full of great stories and bright hope, too. I'm not doing RWA this summer, though the site is closer to Seattle than it has been in years. A couple of my critique partners are going to San Francisco on Wednesday and I'm sending with them my best wishes and fond hellos to old friends I'm sorry to miss seeing this year. But there's always next summer . . .

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMelinda

We often hear authors say that their editors or agents demanded that the entire concept for the book be changed to something--more marketable, modern, romancy, edgy, different but not too much so, and so on. Of all the novels I've written and published I've never had to rewrite a whole book, just bits. One of my editors did call once and say if I kept the ending of a certain book we'd get hate mail. I love my readers and didn't want them to be "hatin' on me." I trusted that editor to know what would fly in the market and with reviewers and readers. So I changed the ending and a character I was certain should have died became a central character in the follow-on book, which was far more successful than the changed book.

However, an author might want to be a bit circumspect in whom he/she invests trust to read or edit his/her work. If you have a contract and have been assigned an editor, that's who you establish a trusting working relationship with if at all possible. It's somewhat the same when you're working with a critique group or others who read your stories and suggest or demand that you change this or that because "I bumped on this" or "That just doesn't work for me." Do you trust that these critiquers to impel change for your work, and why? If you're going for a general impression feedback or mechanics editing on your work that's one thing. If you want to make the book the best it can possibly be, be sure you put it in front of those who have the chops in terms of writing, publishing and marketing experience to know how to help you make your good book great.

I have a friend who will let anyone who wants to read her WIP (work in progress) because she wants to know what "the ordinary reader" thinks of the story so she can rewrite and make it better accordingly. IMO, she's looking for support in all the wrong places. I've been with my critique group since 1991. I trust each for their individual strengths they bring to the critique session--the line editing grammarian, the along for the ride plot watcher, the scene goal keeper, the content expert, the information gatherer. Several years ago I participated in another critique group for too many long months. The group leader, a published author, would read my chapter and tell me to rewrite it because it had problems. The others nodded, but said little that would help me know what to change or why. I'd change the piece and take it back. The leader invariably would pronounce it still unworthy and decree that I change it back to what it was before. More nodding. No specifics. I'd do that and would be told to change it again because it still wasn't working. Because I hadn't yet sold a book and the leader had, I trusted the leader and the others to know what was right with my work. Consequently, I soon allowed myself to feel like a no talent hack instead of the award-winning writer I'd proven to be. One day I had what my dear friend Darcy calls an epiphany. I was trusting people who didn't have the power of yes to buy and publish my book to tell me that I couldn't write a book that would be acceptable to them. Why in the world, I asked myself, would I continue to subject myself tender creative self to that kind of "suffer for your art" abuse? So I moved to another city--okay, yeah, I liked these people too much to get confrontational about their treatment of my work and the moving thing was already in the works. Thank goodness.

Trust and Verify
Trust is the engine of all relationships. You go in, hoping for the best, but you must do more than blindly hope or trust things will work out. You must verify your trust is deserved. Is this situation, are these people delivering on what I'd hoped? Am I giving as good (I do mean GOOD) as I get? If the answers to these questions aren't feeling "right" in any way, it may be time to look for better opportunities to cast your trust elsewhere. And most important, trust yourself to know what's right for you.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMelinda