WACKY WEDNESDAY - Why I'm a "Twihard"

Currently listening to:  "What I've Done" courtesy of Linkin Park

When this song starts, I picture the scene in the movie where Bella walks up the grassy slope behind the high school to the edge of the forest with Edward following close behind. She crosses the moss covered logs, stopping in a clearing where a shaft of light filters through the pines and rests on the forest floor. Edward moves behind her and we are aware that he's fighting his urges, struggling with the fear that he and his coven will be exposed...afraid he'll have to kill the one person he's cared about in over a century.

Talk about conflict! Take out the "sparkling vampire," the play-by-play instructions on meal preparation, and page long descriptions, and you have to admit, Twilight is an awesome story. Goal, motivation and conflict are clearly presented, the characters three dimensional, a setting that fits the dark premise of the story and the drama building (in fact, in the movie when they drive into Arizona, you have shield your eyes because the sunlight is so out of place), and touches of humorous real life antics, which put the reader inside the story with relatable characters. Then there's the sweet romance that pulls in the female gender at all ages. We remember our first love so vividly, and Stephenie Meyer did a great job of recreating all those feelings within Bella, but added a hunky immortal to our fantasy.

Tomorrow BREAKING DAWN- Part I opens and this author can't wait! I have tickets to the midnight premiere, My critique partner, who's also a close friend, and I will be there hours early, extra-large Starbucks coffee in one hand and Kindles in the other to pass the time while we wait. If you've never done a movie premiere, you need to. The excitement and energy make the experience as much fun as the movie. Yes, midnight is an ungodly hour to watch a film that in all likelihood will end close to 3 AM, and my eyelids will have to be taped open for work the next day, but it is so worth it! You're treated like a VIP (which I am "very important") and when you emerge from the theatre, you and the select few (OK hundreds) in attendance were treated to a glimpse of greatness others haven't seen yet. Even if the movie sucks, the experience is a blast.

Personally, of all the books in the Twilight saga, the fourth book, Breaking Dawn, was my least favorite. I know, possible bad karma for an author to criticize another colleague's creative work, but touting myself as a dedicated "Twihard" and viewing the final segment of the story from a reader's, not author's perspective, I came away disappointed. The characters who supported the hero and heroine all the way through their drama, adding color to the story along the way, were, in my personal opinion, "flat lined." In fact, most of them were barely given honorable mention and conveniently absent from what I felt, were crucial scenes.

Aside from the whole (**spoiler alert**) daddy chewing the baby from momma, while the boy who's had a crush on her and lost out, watches (and I do believe he sees her "body" for the first time as well, which was awkward to read [I'm not swearing by naked, because its been so long since I read it, but if a baby is being born you can bet there's more skin exposed than not] ) then have the boy whose painfully pined for the heroine "imprint" on her newborn daughter, cementing him in the heroine and hero's intimate life forever....well (taking large breath) just seems twisted! Okay personal rant over. For now.

So why am I going to watch this story (mind you I shut the book after that scene and didn't crack it for at least two weeks - I wasn't even sure I wanted to finish it, to be honest) on the mega screen if it bothered me so much in print? Because I have to! I'm a "Twihard." I have to see this through to the gruesome end. Like passing a bad car wreck, you don't want to, but you have to... look. Human nature? And again...for the experience!

No matter what my personal feelings as a reader were on the last book, as an author, I have to applaud Stephenie Meyers for her gift of being able to write such a wild, imaginative story. From this side of the fence, I view her as absolutely amazing. And, yes, I will proudly say I'm jealous as hell (professionally speaking, of course) of her imagination (and....the fact she sleeps on piles of money).

I also owe the Twilight saga for my writing career. Granted, I've always had the talent (I believe we're born with our gifts) but until I became passionate about reading, which this series definitely did for me, I didn't realize that deep down, I wanted to write the stories wandering in my imagination. I'm a hopeless romantic, believing love will survive against all odds, which is what I write. That's why Twilight worked for me. Isn't that the premise of the entire story....that love survived the odds?

Twilight fan or not, tomorrow marks the beginning of an ending. Like Harry Potter, Edward and Bella's story has come to an end, closing another chapter of literary genius. True, we still have Part II to look forward to, but when its over, there'll be a void, much the same as Harry Potter. Another fantasy will be popped by reality's needle and we'll be clamoring for the next one. Hello, Suzanne Collins. The Hunger Games....I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it!

Thanks for stopping by and taking a moment from your NaNoWrimo frenzy to support me...or just rest your eyes. As always, I love your opinions, thoughts, and comments.  Oh hell, I'm just like that you're here! 

Thought for today: Today will be tomorrow's memory, so make it one you'll cherish...not regret.

REAL OR IMAGINED? A personal paranormal experience....

Current listen:  "Where's My Angel" courtesy of Metro Station from the Almost Alice soundtrack

Well, it's almost here..."All Hallowed Eve" or to the suburbia households preparing for the onslaught of mini ghosts, witches, vampires, and Harry Potter characters, interspersed with the occasional princesses and fairies, "Halloween." We carve pumpkins, make fake spider webs, play scary music, and pass out sugary treats to whittle the enamel off vulnerable teeth, blowing our grocery budget, sending our kids into sugar highs rivaling any street drug, and creating a dentist's wetdream. By the time the night's over, toilet paper streamers hang from lofty branches, broken pumpkins litter the streets, and remnants from treat baskets litter the living room floor. Some parents hand out the goodies little by little over the coming weeks. Personally, I didn't want to prolong the side effects and said "have at it," knowing the sooner the candy was gone, so was the sugar rush. Usually, they threw up and the problem was solved. No more candy. No more sugar high.

We've read all the thriller stories, seen the horror flicks, and listened to ghost stories around campfires. We have an aversion to hockey masks and chainsaws, snowy screens on televisions, and blame innocent black cats and other superstitions for life's calamities. But when left alone in the house when the power suddenly goes out during a monstrous thunderstorm, or something goes "bump" in the middle of the night, does your heart clamor into your throat? Have you ever been walking along and had an eerie feeling shimmy along your spine? What about the feeling of being "watched?" Real or imagined?


Then there's the flip side. Have you ever experienced an unexplainable calm wash over your body during a moment of duress, or feel a comforting embrace when there's no one around you? Smell a familiar scent of cologne from a loved one who's passed? Caught sight of a movement in your peripheral vision, but felt no fear? Real or imagined?

The night my grandmother, who I consider my surrogate mother, died, I was walking through some home improvement extravaganza and passed a woman demonstrating some kitchen appliance wonder. She glanced at me and for a moment, my grandmother's face covered hers, smiling. The face disappeared immediately, but a cold chill shivered over me and stayed with me for several hours. I remember seeing the time on a grandfather clock that caught my attention immediately, after passing the demonstration booth. Within minutes of walking through the door, a colleague of my husband who worked with him on the rescue squad called to inform us he had been on an emergency call at my grandmother's home. He was one of the paramedics who worked to save her, and called to apologize for failing. Grandma died and that's how I found out. I asked the time of death and found no coincidence in it being the exact time on the clock, or the fact the stranger's face took on my grandmother's appearance mere seconds before she passed on.

Her death was traumatic to me. She's the one who hooked me onto psychic readings, taught me to read palms, and how to can peaches. Grandma was all about the holidays. The first Thanksgiving, a few months after she died left me feeling hollow as I made the preparations for my part in the dinner. That night when I went to bed, I "dreamed" I received a phone call from her. Side note: Grandma's favorite possession was her cordless phone. She called whenever you were in the middle of the most intense part of a movie, making "a magic moment," or chasing twin toddlers running in separate directions. So receiving a "call" in my dream felt normal...everyday. But what she said didn't.

"Hi, sweetheart. Grandma just wanted to call and wish you a happy Thanksgiving tomorrow, and tell you not to feel sad. I want you to know I'm not gone, and will always be watching over you, just as I did when you were a babe in the bassinet. Now go enjoy the day, and remember, in our family, it's two potatoes for each person." My assignment was mashed potatoes and I'd been trying to figure out how many to cook. Real or imagined?

When Christmas rolled around a few weeks later, an even odder dream came, but after the holiday. My grandmother lived in this awesome house when I was small (she moved years later) and had this beautiful gold brocade couch that, to me, looked like it belonged in a throne room of a castle. We were allowed to sit on it after hands were washed and shoes removed. From my perch on the sofa, I had the perfect view of the elegant crystal chandelier that hung over her formal dining room table. Grandma and I had a pension for anything sparkly. (I still do) In her house, I felt like I was in the presence of a movie star or royalty. (This is also the grandma who was married to my grandfather who owned the pink Cadillac I blogged about a while back).

In this dream, my grandmother appeared to me. We were in this house and had just finished a wonderful lunch with my three, coincidentally also dead, aunts. Grandma took my hand and led me to the brocade sofa. She asked me about the kids, praising me for being a good mom. (All three were under 4 - they were cherubs, then. Later, I plotted their demise on occasion - not such a "good" mom , but then again, they were teenage hellions and I was questioning my method of birth control).  Side note: When I was pregnant with my twins, I didn't know they were twins. Grandma did. When she was leaving for vacation, I offered to water her yard. She kissed my cheek and told me not to have the twins before she got home. I laughed, disputing her theory. She wagged a manicured nail at me and said "We'll see which one of us is right."

Suddenly in my dream, Grandma took my hand. "Remember, Joelene, we are only visitors to this earth, and the length of our visit isn't ours to decide. I'll never be far, and all you have to do is summon me and I'll be there." She brushed the bangs on my forehead to the side, just as she'd done whenever I was sick, or upset as a small child. "You've got an amazing life ahead of you. I've seen it. Don't lose your way, and take care of my babies. There's one more coming." (seven years later my last son arrived). My three dead aunts appeared in the foyer that separated the living and dining rooms. They each wore one of Grandma's furs (a mink stole, a mink coat, and a red fox stole). My Aunt Lily held out my grandmother's full length beaver coat (my favorite to wrap up in when given permission).

The entry door opened on its own, and the most brilliant shaft of gold light I'd ever seen, washed the marble floor in the entry, spreading across the carpet to my feet. I remember the warmth and at the same time the fear. As Grandma walked to my aunts, the beam of light retreated with her. She put on the coat and turned, giving me one last look. She blew a kiss and said, "I love you baby girl. No more tears." She walked through the door first, followed by her sisters. The door closed, the light disappeared, and I woke up, with my face and hair soaked in tears. Real or imagined?

I've never dreamed my grandmother since, but when I gave birth to my last child, a birth that nearly took both our lives, I felt her hand brushing the hair from my face the entire time until he was born. When my mother had her brain aneurysm and I traveled from St. George to Salt Lake alone every weekend for five months, I caught sight of my grandfather on two occasions, occupying the empty passenger seat when I had to drive through a storm. When my youngest went through the nightmare of meth addiction, I felt the familiar brush of her hand the day I curled into a ball and cried because I'd just put him in jail for several months. 

Do I believe in ghosts? With all my heart. Some I feel are lost or "stuck" (my kids told me on separate occasions that they saw an elderly woman weeping in the hallway of our first house we lived in when we moved to southern Utah, but I never saw, only felt an uneasiness at times) and some "spirits" I think are attached to "things" - especially antiques (I've been told to leave antique furniture in the garage for a week before bringing inside the house to dispel any such attachments). 

I believe in the forces of good and evil, and with that, I have to believe that some unfortunate "lost souls" are darker in nature. Most encounters I've heard or felt feel "childlike" and involve pranking for attention. But I don't do things to attract spirits, either, nor do I seek them, but I am fascinated with reading others encounters. I'm a big scaredy cat, so I don't do haunted places or play supernatural games. I left many a sleepover when such things were started. Why disturb the sleeping dead?

I've read several blogs this month on the unexplained and wonderfully haunted happenings associated with this time of year. The newspaper is full of favorite haunted places to investigate, but my favorite fix for a good scare ever since I was a teenager, is to simply walking through a graveyard after midnight. If there's a full moon, even better. The tombstones and trees cast the most eery shadows...or...it it something or someone?

So what's your favorite fix for a good haunt? Are you a ghost chaser, a spirit caller, or a believer in guardian angels? Besides my grandparents, I know I have three...two are archangels, but that's another blog.

At the very least, curl up with a good story about the supernatural and paranormal, laced with a enough romance to have you wishing for a shapeshifter or sexy vampire...even a hot dark angel to keep you company, at least in your dreams. Happy Halloween, friends. Thanks for stopping by!

Here's some blogs I've checked out this week - from sweet to fun, to slightly unnerving!

http://tiffanyawhite.wordpress.com

http://calisarhose.wordpress.com/chit-chat

http://www.sandrabruney.blogspot.com

http://catierhodes.com/2011/10/28/el-muerto-the-texas-headless-horseman/

BLOG FAVS THIS WEEK

Today's ear tickler:  "I Want All of You" from The Verve Pipe. Yes, it's a sultry little tune and inspired  many romantic moments in my stories.

Today we're pulling a lawn chair under the trees shading the corner of the yard. I invite you to kick off your shoes and let the cool grass temper the heat on the bottoms of your feet. A tall glass of water over crushed ice with a lemon wedge circling the top is as strong as I want on hot summer afternoons, but you can imagine any frosty thirst quencher you need.

As I posted on Wednesday, I've been blog touring this week to see what my comrades have to say. It's been a welcome change, reading for fun instead of stressing over my own blog. Found these fun, interesting, and inspiring posts.

If you stop by and like what you find, do the author a professional favor and "share" on your Facebook, Twitter, or email spaces. Also, sign up to "follow." I've been in two online classes this past month where the agents/publishers said if they get a query they're interested in, they check out the author's "spaces" or "places" to learn more about them, see their voice...and check out their following. If an author shows an impressive following and is receiving positive feedback from their visitors, it shows them the author already has "fans" who will likely buy their book and recommend them to others. 

This is a wonderful, but brutal business and with all the publishing options, twists and setbacks, it makes breaking through the barriers as a new author, difficult. When I hit the "send" key and post my blog each week, a state of panic swamps me. Did I make it interesting or did I sound stupid? Is my blog entertaining? Will anyone comment? Or did I "die on the vine?" I check my blog several times the first day and I get excited when I find comments. That means someone actually read it! It also proves I'm not dangling alone out there in the great cyber vastness.

Even more exciting though, is finding my number of followers consistently growing. I do have fans...ones I don't have to "pay" for! Little pop-ups come on my email telling me so-and-so has mentioned me on Twitter, or now following me there (sorry, still fluttering in the nest), and also mentioned me on Facebook. All of these little things help boost an author's confidence. I know it's a personal puff of wind beneath my wings when you stop by.

Okay, so here's what I've found. 

A.  Patricia wants to know what the best piece of advice is you've ever received. Myself? I have two. 1. You only get one chance to make a good first impression.  2.  You can only change the person you become.  If I was to give you a piece of advice I would say "Believe in something...and let that something be yourself." Check out her blog:  http://www.patriciayagerdelagrange.com/?p=224



B.  A new cyberfriend, Deborah Dale, posted wonderful blog about Harry Potter. I would never have thought about a parallel between Harry Potter and 9/11, but she's demonstrated it in a unique way - an outlet for our children who couldn't comprehend the tragedy we couldn't hide from them as adults. Check it out.
http://deboradale.com/blog1/2011/07/15/the-harry-potter-generation/




C.  Tiffany A. White's Ooo Factor. She posts Friday's FabOoolousness. This week deals with a subject that always catches my attention:  real life crime stories/mysteries. This week it was the Kiss and Kill Murder in 1961 in Odessa, Texas. Tiffany has a personal connection to the ghostly story. Curious? Stop by:
http://tiffanyawhite.wordpress.com/author/tbrat216/




D.  I'm drawn to real life mysteries - the "who-did-it-but-disappeared" or "WTF?" when a body is discovered unexpectedly. It's like playing an ongoing reality game of CLUE. Catie Rhodes posted about the possible mystery identity behind "Jack the Ripper." The story gave me the creeps, naturally, but moreso because I lived through the Ted Bundy slayings. In fact, his lone survivor and the girl who identified him, worked with me. My parents wouldn't let me even go to the grocery store without taking one of my brothers with me. An unsettling feeling to have police inside your workplace all day. They were protecting her, in case he escaped jail and during the hearing. So having had our own version of "Jack the Ripper" in our hometown, I identified with the fear the people in Texas were going through. Check it out:

http://catierhodes.com/2011/07/29/the-servant-girl-annihilator/

E.  Last, but not even close to "least" is a personal one to me. This is a dear writer friend who I met at conference last year and we just "clicked." She's recently been diagnosed with breast cancer and has undergone radical surgery and is now starting her Chemo. Her outlook on life is amazingly upbeat. She's ready to embrace "bald is beautiful" and if anyone could pull it off, it would be Jenn. The day she went in for surgery I had my own mammogram done (and yes...I want to invent the "penilgram" every time I go). My hooters slap my knees and I can read the paper through them now, but I passed another year. Please stop by her blog and show your support. All of us will be touched in some way by this horrible disease, so reach out when you can. I'm a firm (parts of me are anyway) believer in pay it forward...the good you do will come to you. Check out my friend at:  http://cancerfreekearl.blogspot.com

I checked out the links to make sure they worked, but once you hit "post" cyber gremlins can attack. I'm crossing my fingers they all work.  If you have one you'd like to brag about, please share. As always, thanks for stopping by.

Today's thought:  There's no such thing as failure...only learning experiences.