Robin Layne's Blog: From the Red, Read Robin - Posts Tagged "read"

A number of elements combined to convince me to call this blog "From the Red Read Robin." First, it was different from the other names because it came to me in the morning after "sleeping on" all the other ideas. Second, the one person to give me feedback on this site, my friend Dustin, preferred it; he likes the wordplay in it. Second, I wore all red Sunday and people complimented my appearance in the color all day long. That morning, in fact, a friend took my picture on the bus.
I made sure "Read" was in the middle so that there could be no confusion with the restaurant.

Red as representing blood is of interest to the passionate writer. I can't remember who said this, but it was something like this: It's easy to be a writer. All you have to do is sit at the typewriter, and bleed.

Red blood is of interest to followers of Christ as well, because he shed that blood for us, not just so we could be forgiven (that's just the beginning, a means to a much bigger end), but so that we could be God's intimate family forever and do the same works that He does, out of the same motives. That's a tall order--one worth reaching for.

Of course, red blood is the food of vampires, and I'm working on some vampire stories (including making improvements on the one I posted on my profile--but please be patient because I'm juggling a lot of responsibilities). I will write in this blog why I am interested in vampires as subject matter and what they mean to me and others.

Red is a color of energy, and I can always use more of that.

Red is also a common color of copyediting marks. I am furthering my training as an editor so I will have a career to support my habits, such as writing and breathing (and which of those two is more important, really? Hard to say!)

Please feel free to comment about this blog--whether any of it interests you so far, though it is just getting started, and what things you'd like to read about that I might be able to write.

I also would love to get feedback on the stories I posted. "Manuel Pascal" is being released in installments, and the first one is pretty short, but if you are anxious to read more, let me know. I will probably post more soon, anyway.

On my next blog post, I am thinking of saying more about the "Read" and maybe the "Robin" parts of the title. I could also give some info on future titles and ideas for posts. I hope this really takes off and gets interesting!

Cheers!
Robin

I'm back at last! I got up early enough to be drunk on tiredness, hoping my dream state is still lingering. I heard some writers prefer to write at such times. Wow, it's already 9:02 a.m.! I got up about 7, I swear! But I have done a number of things this morning already, including cook and eat breakfast and some matters of business at the computer, including emailing my writing group to shamelessly solicit ideas for where I'm stuck in my story. But it is a glorious thing to reach the point in going over the old draft where I honestly have holes in the plot that need filling in. I know the gist here--just need the details. And why cannot writing be a community experience, at least at times? I have learned the joys of writing in community in more than one setting. Hemingway's quote bears repeating. Let's see if I can get it right: "There's nothing to being a writer. All you do is sit at a typewriter and bleed." If I must bleed at the keyboard, letting out all the passion and pain within me, let me also soar the heights of success when I really gain from writing and others love it and gain, too. And let me spend some time with other writers giving and receiving moral support as we inspire one another to write.

October is a special time for writers and booklovers around Portland, Oregon. Why is "booklovers" not a single word to spell check? It ought to be, don't you think? And why did I twice start to spell "Potland"? It must be the skunk-like reek that keeps coming in from the neighbor's apartment. Regardless, it's not a hemp festival that draws me this week. It is Wordstock, an annual book lover's fair. There, I made two words of it. Wordstock is unbelievably inexpensive to attend--$7 a day, or $10 for both Saturday and Sunday, to enjoy all the exhibits, panels, and author presentations at the Oregon Convention Center this weekend (the 13th and 14th). If you sign up for a writer's workshop, which costs $35, you get in free for that day, and if you sign up for more than one workshop, the workshops are discounted. I am going to attend the workshop, "Starting a Series: What you need to do before you sit down to write." Since I sat down to write mine approximately 12 years ago, I figure it's about time I learn some tips. I've mostly been working, off and on, on the first book, but I have worked some on the books to follow. Someone has even suggested I break down my first book into more books as a solution to the problem that it's currently too long. I am considering the possibility, but at present, I don't see it working satisfactorily. I would need to break it up into the right climactic elements, and I'd also have to come up with an extra book title or two. But we shall see what happens. For now, I just want to finish the draft I have. Anyway, the series writing workshop is taught by April Henry, a New York Times bestselling novelist who is starting her 3rd series (I put it that way for brevity and to avoid trying to learn what is the plural of series). At least some of her books are YA, and I'm glad because that's what genre of books I'm writing as well.

The Wordstock-related events kicked off with the Text Ball by the Independent Publishing Resource Center last Saturday. I went for my first year in a zany costume and had a lot of fun. Costumes containing text were encouraged. I didn't win a prize; they seemed to like simpler and more elegant costumes with more unified ideas. I wore my entire button collection, a wire sculpture on my hat, and wrote body puns on my hands, arms, and face (see the pictures I will have loaded this morning). As you will see when you look at my hand pictures, I illustrated the Hemingway saying by making drops of red down my fingers.

I have spent hours going through the Wordstock guide and reading about some of the authors on the Internet, deciding which events to attend Saturday and Sunday, because so many good ones overlap in time. I have the booklet all marked up now, my course mapped out.
I am looking forward to the Open Write, in which contestants write to a prompt for 9 minutes and the work is published on the Internet. I am used to writing to prompts from a number of writing groups (if you haven't tried it, I recommend it, especially when you need to do something fresh; you can get writing prompts online); it's been a while since I've had so few minutes to write to one.

I have been quite the night owl lately, but because the book fair is a daytime event, I have been trying, until this morning unsuccessfully, to change my sleep patterns. The fact that the Text Ball ended at 11 p.m. didn't help. The panels and author events at the book fair don't start until 11 a.m., but I want to have some time for the Open Write and the exhibits. There is always a free book exchange table, and every book- and publishing-related kind of table you can imagine.

I will write about my adventures afterward, but it may take me a few days, since I also have homework in my copyediting class and other matters to attend to.

If I bleed my red blood to be read (and that is not by far the only reason; some of it is for my own catharsis), I have a milestone to celebrate. I have my first fan! Thank you, Dustin, for all your encouragement. Even if I only have one reader, I can legitimately include "Read" in the name of this blog.

Now I shall drink more black tea, put on sweater, and load the Text Ball pictures. I took pictures of some great costumes that I won't post because I didn't get those people's permission. But I will ask my writer's group friends if it's okay that I post some of their pictures as a thank-you for their support of my writing. If you are reading this, I encourage you to comment or message me and tell me what you think--or just say hi so I know you're out there. I want to read YOU as well. If only there was time for us all to read everything we want to share!

It would make a lot of sense if Goodreads added the following categories to the My Books status:

Started to read but had to return to the library

Started but may never finish

Started but will definitely never finish

Using as a reference

(any more you'd like to add?)

What do you think? I mean, I'm sure I'm not the only person who doesn't always finish a book she picks up, for whatever reason. And just because I've put a book down doesn't prove I want to erase it from my list.

This Christmas season, I am bell-ringing for the Salvation Army six hours a day, six days a week. I am not, as some who pass by assume, a volunteer. I earn minimum wage. I need the money to pay bills. But I also love the job. I did it every year since my daughter was small, until I went back to college and was too busy with my studies. What could be so great about standing—or sitting, when my medical problems flare up—for hours on end ringing a bell? First off, it’s for a good cause. The kettle money is the only source that the Salvation Army has to help the needy within this county at Christmas time and all year round. I also love greeting people, spreading cheer and blessings and keeping an attitude of prayer throughout the day. If I had a present for every time that someone wished me a Merry Christmas out there in front of the Safeway—or the times I wished others the same—I don’t know where I would fit all the gifts. I represent Christmas and a Christian ministry and church that is well-liked by all types of people. Some people tell me that it is the only social service that gets through to military workers and disaster victims. I love watching children enjoy giving, and I laugh that they call me Santa although I’m a woman and I don’t exactly dress the part. They ought to know better, I think, because while I ring, I sing. My favorite part of this job is the special contribution of my voice.

Never mind the story that a robin heralds the spring. This Robin gets her greatest opportunity to sing out in the winter: carols about the birth of my beloved Lord, songs of joy about fun times, hymns of thanks and worship, and titles that aren’t connected with Christmas but speak of winter cold and snow. I even wrote two of my own verses to “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas”:

Jolly old Saint Nicholas,
lend your ear this way;
I hope you tell everyone
what I’m going to say.
Christmas Eve is coming soon;
Now, you dear old man,
whisper what it really means,
tell me if you can.
Daddy wants a brand new car,
Mommy wants a house,
sister wants a new PC,
kitty wants a mouse;
But these kinds of presents can’t
give our spirits rest;
Only God, who sent His Son,
gives the very best.

You can listen to me sing this on YouTube: St. Nicholas song

People like my voice. They don’t often stop long enough to hear a whole song, or even a whole verse, but it is enough to cheer them, invite compliments, sympathy when it’s cold, and cups of Starbucks hot cocoa, not to mention an increasing number of donations as the season progresses. I’m not allowed to put money in the bucket myself this year, which leads to some people’s carts rolling down the sloping sidewalk into the parking lot, especially if I have to sit in my chair and can’t reach to hold the cart for them.

The plan this year was for every paid ringer to work Monday through Friday, replaced by volunteers on Saturday, but at my location no one volunteered during the hours I work (1 to 7 pm.). I’m happy to make the extra money, but boy does it keep me busy! When I’m not at work or commuting to and from, it amazes me how much time just preparing Christmas letters and cards takes. Not to mention all the time (and money) it took to get enough warm clothes to get me through freezing days. I wear ski pants every day, two wool sweaters, two warm hats under my Santa cap, and more layers than that under my wool coat. A lot of people say, “You picked a cold day to do this!” or “You must be freezing!” Some nights I nearly am, but other times I’m hot in all those layers. I look at these people, dressed as if for summer, and I wonder how they can stand just walking in and out of the store. Some say, “You should be inside!” I don’t belong inside; I would bake in my layers, I wouldn’t be able to sing, and I probably couldn’t ring, either.

I have to carry a lot with me on the bus to work including a full thermos, a lunch to eat just before I start, a cozy blanket for when I am sitting on the colder days, toe and hand warmers, you name it. So I don’t take a book. I am used to reading on the bus. Ergo, I’m not getting my reading done. And—here’s where the real confession comes in—although I have no excuse about weight or volume at home, I have hardly read my Bible since I started the job this season. Normally I read some nearly every morning with breakfast. Now at that meal, I pore over my schedule book, address Christmas cards, make phone calls, whatever else I feel I need to do. I feel like the biblical Martha, a human doing rather than a human being, when I’m at home doing all these tasks. Only last Saturday and Sunday did I slow down. I found play even more necessary than sleep last night. I dinked around on the computer until about 4 in the morning, although I had to get up at 6:30 to get ready for church. Then, I brought a book on the bus, Norman Vincent Peale’s The Power Of Positive Thinking. And I actually read! I read about the importance of taking time to relax and to read some Bible.

The human being is alive from the depths of her heart at the kettle. My church has no choir, and I haven’t played my guitar in a long time; I lack the motivation to take up those songs I wrote long ago or write new ones when the guitar playing has become so rusty. But at the kettle, the person I most entertain is myself. What I lack in Bible reading, I make up for in worship. When the only reading I do is the lyrics in my song folder, I’m in my element. Some of the songs even make me cry—which is bad for singing, let me tell you. And my range is sometimes lacking, especially earlier in the day. Although “O Holy Night” is practically everyone’s favorite, I won’t attempt it before dark. But I can sing “I Want a Hippopotamus” anytime. “The Grinch Song” I don’t usually attempt because I’m afraid passersby might think I’m saying all those despicable things about them. Anyway, you get the idea.

If you want to read some of my reflections about Christmas songs, go to http://robinlayne.hubpages.com/hub/Cr.... It also features a picture of me at the kettle and a video of me singing my “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas” verses … complete with my daughter’s cat on my lap—until he, like my audience in front of the store, rushes off to other business.

Another confession: I did bring my draft of this post with me on the bus to edit. But since it’s not a book, it doesn’t really count as “reading,” does it? Just as writing short things like this while ignoring my novel-in-progress doesn’t count as “writing.”

The reason I have time to post this now is that my body very radically told me to take a break: The ankle I sprained prior to the beginning of my job acted up today and I had to skip working on what might be one of the best-yielding days of the season (the Saturday before Christmas). And if it’s not the ankle, it’s a knee. At least there were two volunteers today, from 10 to noon and from noon to 2.

I’d already arranged for a friend to pick up my Christmas food box today. Can you hazard a guess as to the source of this gift? Yep. The Salvation Army. Better than the food, to my mind, was flyer with a new rendition of the Lord’s Prayer:

Our Father in heaven,
Reveal who you are.
Set the world right;
Do what’s best—
As above, so below.
Keep us alive with three square meals,
Keep us forgiven with you
And forgiving others.
Keep us safe from ourselves and the evil one.
You’re in charge!
You can do anything you want!
You’re ablaze in beauty!
Yes. Yes. Yes.
AMEN

Okay . . . When it’s that potent a message, it doesn’t have to be a portion of a book. It counts as reading.

I will post a picture of myself at the kettle from a few years back in my Photos section.

I urge you also to “do the most good” in all your endeavors both during this season and all year long.

Merry Christmas to all, to all a good night, and peace through 2014!