Toot My Own Horn

Toot My Own Horn

I’m terrible at it — tooting my own horn.  I haven’t written lately because I’m still amazed any of you might be interested.

However, there are four big writerly things I should have posted about this year and I only ever posted about one.

Many of you have read “Blue” which won second in the 2016 Writers’ Guild of Texas Flash Fiction Award.  I think it might even be linked somewhere on this page, if not you can always click here.  Well, to add to my WGT honors, I am happy to say  I won both first and second place in the 2017 WGT Flash Fiction competition with “Spin Me Charlie” and “A Dark Fog” respectively.  Read “Spin Me, Charlie” here and “A Dark Fog” here. I’m really proud of this accomplishment and effectively broke the competition.  You can only win one title per contest now.  (Crazy, but I wish I’d won third too!)

I mentioned in a previous post about book three in the short story anthology “Short and Sweet” by Grace Publishing, edited by Susan Cheeves King coming out in April.  In addition to that good news, I’m happy to say book four in the “Short and Sweet” anthology by Grace Publishing just came out and is available on Amazon.  It was another instance of “Happy Mail”.  I’m always amazed to see my name in print.

So there you have it, folks.  Four biggees.  Two contest wins and two traditionally published works.

I will try to keep everyone apprised of big happenings sooner to when they actually happen.  Books are still in the works.  I’ll be seeking beta readers soon.  So hit me up…

I’m also one of the judges for the Granbury Texas Writers’ Bloc Fiction Challenge each month.  Enter that competition so I can be wowed by your genius.  (And yes, I’m speaking directly to you, Howard.)  Seriously though, it’s great fun.  Learn more about it here.

Read something good,

Leah

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Film is Art

Film is Art

 

I’ve held discussions regarding art over the years where someone has a very finite idea of that which is art.  Often times film and books aren’t included in a person’s ideals of what is art. I find that sad.  My personal point of view has me understanding more things as art than most people might.

I was reading a text which claims that art is man-made. It claims that art exists for its own sake and claims that an artist tends to influence their audience. However, it also makes a distinction between a strip shopping mall and something that was beautiful in its architectural design, calling only the latter art.
The text also quotes Göethe saying art should serve three functions: to entertain, to educate and to exalt — or transport us mentally, emotionally or spiritually to a place beyond ourselves.
How can I say this in a way that doesn’t sound offensive? I believe the text, in a sense, short-changes and judges what is art more stringently than we should.
There are two photos in the text which show a distinct difference between a strip shopping mall and Spanish artistically designed homes situated above storefronts. Let’s look at the strip shopping center by itself, without contrasting it with something that is by many standards, more aesthetically pleasing. Ask yourself the questions about defining art. Art is man-made – so is that strip shopping center. Does it exist for its own sake? No, but neither do the homes situated above the storefront. In this instance the textbook says that architecture serves a utilitarian function which goes against art existing for its own sake, and relies on the difference of intention to earn the title of art. The assertion here is that the architect of the strip shopping center had no intention of influencing his audience. Yet how does anyone suggest to know the intent of another? Perhaps within the budget, the client restraint, the intended function of the space, etc the architect’s intent and influence over the strip shopping mall (although perhaps not apparent to us) were still an important part of the architectural design? Perhaps the architect strove to do the most thoughtful and artistic version of his vision within the confines of his job assignment. So wouldn’t it then be art? To assume to know the heart of a creator is to assume your perceptions are more important and more legitimate than the motives behind said creation and that your opinion is more important than what an artist feels.
Remembering art is subjective and beauty is in the eye of the beholder, it would be plausible in the most legalistic definition of art, to call a strip center art.
So how does this pertain to film?
Film is man-made. Film exists for its own sake, and in most instances you can feel the artists’ combined collective influence for the audience — Actors’ interpretations, cinematographers’ shot preferences, even down to the musical score. To say any of these things that were created are not art, defies the definition given in this text. So why argue the point? Yet, so many do.
If someone should consider film to be something that isn’t art, as the sum of the whole, can it’s many parts still be art in their singular existence? Can the whole of something made of small bits of art, not be art? Or does classifying a film as something other than art immediately diminish the artistic contributions of the many individuals tasked with building a film? Does each bit then become something that isn’t art as well? Hopefully this helps people understand the slippery slope of diminishing creation by mere lack of understanding or personal opinion. (I instantly think of two tracking shots I love and consider art — the Copa shot in Scorsese’s Goodfellas and the corner store scene in Wright’s Shaun of the Dead  – two distinctly different movies with similar artistic use of technique)
So I would suggest that art is a more ethereal concept than mere humans can define. Just as morals, values, social constraints and personal experience temper all of our insights, those too temper our interpretation of art. And a muddled misunderstood thing such as art, especially as it applies to writing or to film, is actually strengthened in its claim to art by the struggle it undergoes for the title.
Yet, our acceptance of what is and what isn’t art is merely a construct of our place in time. Film may not be art to you, or perhaps you would even distinguish between different films asserting some are worthy of being called art while others are not. I, however, call all film art. You don’t have to like the film. I don’t have to like it. We don’t have to appreciate it. But how we perceive it doesn’t change that it is indeed evocative, and an expression of one or a collective which influences others in some way. Even to dislike a thing is to feel.
For example, think of Maplethorp’s Self Portrait with Whip (1978) versus Monét’s London’s Green Park (1871) Both were considered shocking and were not considered art within the time they were initially created. Yet they’ve both been prize exhibits in some of the world’s finer art galleries. Times change.  Perceptions change.  We change.
Film is art. And art is to feel —good or bad— as creator or bystander.
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Short and Sweet – On Sale Now

Short and Sweet – On Sale Now

Check out this inspirational non-fiction anthology I am proud to be a part of.  It is called Short and Sweet: Small Words for Big Thoughts. It is edited by Susan King of the Upper Room and published by Grace Publishing.

 

What’s so cool about this is the project itself.  Susan King asked me to write a piece for this anthology.  The rules, it had to be micro-fiction 150 words or less.  The words had to be one syllable and it had to be true and inspirational.  Whew.  I sat down and wrote my contribution in long hand in the back of my journal.

 

Buy the book here:

 

Look for Volume 2 coming out soon.

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The Muse LELA

The Muse LELA

This is my first week back to work/writing since my return from Mount Hermon.

I feel inspired and excited and beyond enthusiastic. I also feel sick to my stomach, as if I’ve taken on too much and am overwhelmed.

Enter, LELA.

In my mind’s eye, Lela is a vermillion-haired beauty with twinkling green eyes, dimples and a smattering of freckles across sun-kissed cheeks. An enchantress you would find on the moors with mist about her feet and the laugh of a devious sprite. She is part muse, part conscience.

Besides all of those things in my mind’s eye, LELA is a command center writing collaboration built with two other artists. LELA is a brain trust, a conservation of effort, a duplication of exposure, a wellspring of encouragement and enthusiasm and sometimes even the shackles that keep my feet planted firmly on terra firma. It is my pride and my modesty, it is my will and my conscience. It is my lofty dreams and my fear. It is reckless abandon and common sense all rolled into one. It is exactly the kind of grouping an artist needs, the kind of grouping I need. These artists are my “Go Pro” team and our collaboration is named LELA.

If you’ve read Steven Pressfield’s War of Art, you will instantly know what “Going Pro” is. (If you haven’t read it, check out my review here.)

As for the team element of Going Pro, it is a concoction of a mastermind group, a support group and a group of new, but trustworthy friends. When I decided to become a professional writer, it required a mental commitment. Since writing isn’t always the surest of incomes, it is sometimes hard to remember you are a professional writer when you are in between paychecks. When you are “in the trenches” so to speak. Especially in a society where success is measured in dollar signs.

A GoPro Team helps you stay focused and reminds you that you are in it for the art of it all, not just for the money. Money is lagniappe. You are in it because your soul tells you to be in it. You are driven there. It is easy for an artist to be solely driven and lonely and to hold an audience of zero in the pursuit of their art, but it isn’t necessary. As a matter of fact, I highly suggest you don’t go it alone. Having some steadfast, intelligent, similarly structured beings with whom to share your ideas can sometimes keep you from making a boneheaded mistake in the name of art. It can save you from wasting valuable hours.

However, not just any group will do. I’ve been a part of different, wide-ranging groups and I’ve met countless people in the writing world and it took me ages to find LELA and it happened rather organically.

I pursued two-thirds of my group (for you math wise folks, yes, it means I pursued everyone but myself). These were artists I met, admired, and wanted to be when I grow up — even though I’m the oldest of the bunch. I pursued them as friends. I pursued them as people to look up to, mentors. However, I did not pursue them as a GoPro Team. Yet that is what they became. And I’m grateful for that organic metamorphosis. Truly. And I pray I give as good as I get.

I will introduce you to my beautiful, exquisite GoPro team in weeks to come. No need keeping all of their greatness to myself, as tempting as that is.

I urge all of you artists out there to recognize that this doesn’t have to be a solo venture. God brings people in and out of your life for a purpose. You may already be in the presence of those who will help you reach greater depth in your art. Look around. Pursue if you have to.

By all means, Go Pro.

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Great Grab and Go Keyboard

Great Grab and Go Keyboard

I had some Amazon gift cards burning holes in my pocket. The trouble was choosing what to buy with them.

Seriously, my Amazon Wishlist is a ridiculous exercise in total greed and my want button is turned up to 11. However, I AM quite capable of exercising restraint, so I scanned my wants for a useful item that won’t quickly get set aside and clicked Buy It Now.

I love getting boxes from Amazon. Especially when my busy life has me forgetting I even ordered anything. Seeing the box on my front porch quickly reminded me of my purchase and I was EXCITED to open the box. This was not an Amazon delivery of toilet paper or dog food. This box held potential.

I chose the little keyboard pictured above.  It is the Logitech iPad Keyboard and Stand Combo.  It works with iPad, iPad 2, iPad (3rd/4th generation), iPad mini and the iPhone. (Don’t fret, there is an android version too.)

It is Bluetooth enabled so I can use it with my phone and can comfortably work anywhere. For power, it uses triple A batteries so I don’t have to worry about charging cables etc. So far, it is really cool and I can’t say enough about it. It fits in my purse and the keyboard is full sized so I don’t end up with cramped hands. I’m actually writing this blog with it as we speak.

Its connection is not jagged or delayed. It is as smooth as if I am typing directly into my device. With every word, I grow more and more fond of this tech-savvy do-dad.

I’m totally digging it. So, how am I going to use it? First, I’m going to download the Scrivener App to my iPad mini and see how I like working on that, so I don’t always destroy the charge on my phone running Bluetooth-enabled peripheral gadgets. And since the connection is flawless, I can see myself typing blogs from the carpool lane and working on my manuscript anywhere inspiration strikes. I don’t have to preplan and have my laptop with me.

You should try this. Definitely worth finding the money in your budget, or the next time someone asks what you want for your birthday, suggest an Amazon Gift Card.

And I’ve gotta say, I might get these for my children. It is so much cheaper than buying them laptops and they can type right into the Google Docs App for their papers for school. Win/win.

You can buy this keyboard for your Apple products here:

You can get the Android version here:

 

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My Husband’s Hands

My Husband’s Hands

I had a dream the other day. It doesn’t seem like much, and to most people it probably wouldn’t be a big deal. But the dream has been bugging me all week.

In my dream, I am with my husband, BigTough, and his new family (which he doesn’t have in real life – totally make-believe) at a local ice cream shop. He has a notebook full of things from his youth, stories he has written, and ribbons he has won in track and field. He has a little screen with him. He pops in a home movie to show his new family. In the video I see close-ups of different art projects he worked on as a child, and report cards. All the things that represent his history. Then I see a close-up of him shuffling through papers.

Up until this point in the dream, I was fine. I sit across from his new bride with a big smile on my face. But when I see his hands I lose my mind.

Those hands are supposed to hold my hands.  Those hands are supposed to wipe away my tears. Those hands are supposed to run up and down my back when he holds me crying after our nest is empty.

Those hands are mine.

Now I don’t have a clue what this means, Except that I love him. I guess people put so much stock in what others look like, and what they themselves look like, when it’s something greater than that that makes a person beautiful.

I love my husband’s hands. I love them most when they’re holding mine.

My husband is handsome.

But you should see his hands.

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Jigsaw Puzzle Manuscript

Jigsaw Puzzle Manuscript

Every once in a while I do something crazy.  Like yesterday.  I shaved nearly 10,000 words off of Act one of the Proving Ring and started rearranging things.

The characters have fleshed themselves out and know better where they need to be in the timeline than they did when I typed the first sentence of this manuscript.

So today I am putting all of the pieces together again.  At first I was nervous with an “OMG, WTF did I do?” moment.  But with the initial panic over, I see a tighter, leaner, meaner story.

 

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Blue – Writers’ Guild Texas 2016 Flash Fiction Contest

Blue – Writers’ Guild Texas 2016 Flash Fiction Contest

Last fall, I decided to enter my first ever writing competition.  To make it more challenging, I decided to write a story for a Flash Fiction Contest.  Flash Fiction is a complete story – start to finish – in a thousand words or less.

Some of you might think that I played it safe  because I chose a contest requiring a small amount of writing.  But you can’t understand Flash Fiction until you’ve tried writing Flash Fiction.  You aren’t allowed pages upon pages to establish a character.  You have to do that in a mere sentence or two.

Flash fiction is definitely an exercise in brevity and understanding what your story is truly about.  There are no bunny trails to wander down.

I won second place in that contest for my submission entitled “Blue.” This February it was published in the online monthly newsletter/journal of the Writers’ Guild Texas.

You can read it here.

 

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The War of Art – by Steve Pressfield

The War of Art – by Steve Pressfield

“Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us. Between the two stands Resistance.” – Steven Pressfield

It is rather appropriate that the first book I’m choosing to review for this blog is a book that I am driven to live every day.

I have wrestled with the artist part of my being for as long as I can remember.  I pushed it down and tried to find more acceptable pursuits. (Acceptable in the eyes of friends, family and society where success is measured in dollar signs.)   If not art, then in law as a paralegal, or in teaching.

I suffocated in self-inflicted professions as anything but author.

The most fun I’ve had outside of writing is teaching.  Perhaps because teaching can be an art — when done with passion. And a part of me gained satisfaction knowing I could be something important to a few. As gratifying as it often was, I still was very aware of it not being the best of me.

There have been many voices keeping my artistry pushed deep within me and keeping me hiding it from the world.  Oddly, the ones I listened to so completely had never read a word of my writing.

However, The War of Art  points out something I never wanted to believe.  It points out that this Resistance with a capital R — the influence that keeps us from our higher selves — is something we’ve each created within ourselves.  There becomes an addiction to not living up to our potential. And not living to our potential is easy.  An even easier with the multitude of excuses so readily available to the angst riddled artist.

Do we have to stare death in the face to make us stand up and confront Resistance? – Steven Pressfield

This book helped me realize I was the only thing keeping me back.  I need to make changes and I need to change now. And the power to push through is within me.

If you have even the slightest inkling to pursue something that puts you on a higher plane — painting, writing, singing, entrepreneurship to name but a few — then by all means read this book.

See what you can achieve. But don’t only try once.  Work every day at being the higher, better you. It is a war of sorts, made of many battles, none of which are cheap.

The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day. – Steven Pressfield

I know that “following my dream” is just another way of saying “living to my potential.”  Living to the capabilities given me by my Creator.  And I know the greater my pursuit is of IT, the greater the pull of Resistance.

The more important a call or action is to our soul’s evolution, the more Resistance we feel toward pursuing it. – Steven Pressfield

Buy the book here:

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Hiding From Wonder Woman

Hiding From Wonder Woman

I thought the women in  my life were strong.

I’ve grown up and I realize they were weak.  They were hiding.

The women in my life hid behind their men.  They hid behind convention.  They hid behind their faith. They hid behind the fear of all that could go wrong. They hid behind the shear act of existing.

And they taught me to do the same.

I’ve spent years of my life in hiding.  Not like witness protection hiding, where you are hiding because you are part of something bigger than yourself, but the kind of hiding where you’re fine never leaving a mark.  Never. Leaving. A. Mark.

When I was a little girl, I had a particularly strong affection for Wonder Woman and Princess Leia.  These were strong women. But they weren’t real.  They were fantasy and not something of this world. As much as I wanted to be Wonder Woman or Princess Leia, I was taught they were nothing more than fodder for dress-up.  They were who I could be when I was playing pretend. But for the real world – it was required I be a white-soled sneaker.

On the gym floor of life, I would never leave a mark.

Now, with half of my life behind me, I realize I’ve been wrong.

Wonder Woman and Princess Leia were the physical manifestations of the dreams of the collective girlhood of the 1970s in America.

Who didn’t want to fly an invisible plane? Who didn’t want to be a SPACE PRINCESS? No one. Duh.

But more importantly, who didn’t want to be significant somehow, in something that is right or good, or beautiful?

Girls of the 1970s realized maybe there was more. Maybe we could have actual dreams and not be outcasts for it. (Gasp. I know.  Startling, isn’t it.)

It took me awhile, but I’ve finally caught up. Now don’t get me wrong.  I’m not hoisting a late-unfurling flag of feminism.  That’s not who I am.  I have a deep affection for many of the things modern feminism doesn’t enjoy, BUT I can be Princess Leia.  I can wind my hair in thick buns over each ear and fight a good fight. I can be Wonder Woman, grab my golden lasso and stand up for truth. To emulate my heroes does not mean I’m playing at life.  It means I’m living it.  Living it with wind in my hair and the sun on my face.

Yes, the women in my life hid behind their men when they should have been standing beside them.  They hid behind convention when they should have been re-writing the rules.  They hid behind their faith when God never asked them to be less than what He made them to be. They hid behind the fear of all that could go wrong when risk brings reward. They hid behind the shear act of existing without ever living.

I’ve abandoned what I was taught. I’ve written a new story for myself. And I’ve written it with a sharpie marker for everyone to see and no one to erase. I’ve hid from Wonder Woman for far too long.

As for the invisible jet? Wouldn’t that make car pool more fun?

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