For the 9 Millionth time...He did NOT kill John Lennon...

...Mark David Chapman did.  But, there is a website that says he did.  They even have a little book proving all their, um, cough, *theory*, cough.  I post the link because I find it humorous and rediculous.  I think you might, too.  These people even have a van with their website painted on the side.  That's how I found out about them, in New York City, on John Lennon's birthday, headed to Strawberry Fields with my other soulmates.  It is the most amusing thing I've come across.  And sad that they can make money on something so tragic.  Society.  Ahhh, gulible society, supporting this lunatic.

Anyway, Stephen King did not kill John.  He saved my life.  Again.

I have all these things to say.  I know there is a novel in me.  Somewhere.  Deep, deep inside.  It needs to come out.  I need to write.  But I can never seem to get past 5000 words.  And that is not a novel. It is not even a novella.  And, by definition, it isn't even a short story.  I'm just writing really long, fictional journal entries.

I have this picture in my head about this breath spray from when I was little.  It was a green and white canister.  How can I make that a story?  It's just breath spray...

But my mind will not let it go.  On Saturday, I put Stephen King's On Writing on the ipod in my car.  I always listen to this when I need to get the ball rolling.  I listened to it until the very end, last night on the way home from work.

While listening, I got a couple plot ideas.  I have written them down and am working on streaming them together.  I don't know if this will be my novel or another short story, but it is something. 

And it all started with a one ounce green and white can of breath spray from the early 1980s.  It's weird what the mind remembers...

...and how some small, seemingly insignificant item from childhood can become a story, if I let it.


p.s. For those of you who haven't yet checked it out, I started a new blog for my cooking adventures.  Please check it out, comment, and follow.  Thanks!
http://www.ivygrowsinthekitchen.blogspot.com/

Book Release!

Hey everyone!  I am excited to announce that today, my friend and fellow blogger, Alex J. Cavanaugh, is a published author!  This is very exciting, not just for him, but for all of us writers and hopefuls out there!  Check out his blog, and look into the book.

Here's the details:

CassaStar by Alex J. Cavanaugh
October 19, 2010 Science fiction/adventure/space opera
ISBN 9780981621067 Dancing Lemur Press LLC

To pilot the fleet’s finest ship…

Few options remain for Byron. A talented but stubborn young man with a troubled past and rebellious attitude, his cockpit skills are his only hope. Slated to train as a Cosbolt fighter pilot, Byron is determined to prove his worth and begin a new life as he sets off for the moon base of Guaard.

Much to Byron’s chagrin, the toughest instructor in the fleet takes notice of the young pilot. Haunted by a past tragedy, Bassa eventually sees through Byron's tough exterior and insolence. When a secret talent is revealed during training, Bassa feels compelled to help Byron achieve his full potential.

As war brews on the edge of space, time is running short. Byron requires a navigator of exceptional quality to survive, and Bassa must make a decision that could well decide the fate of both men. Will their skills be enough as they embark on a mission that may stretch their abilities to the limit?

“…calls to mind the youthful focus of Robert Heinlein’s early military sf, as well as the excitement of space opera epitomized by the many Star Wars novels. Fast-paced military action and a youthful protagonist make this a good choice for both young adult and adult fans of space wars.” - Library Journal

Watch the Trailer!!!

Links to purchase:

AMAZON

BARNES & NOBLE

BAM

POWELLS 

ALSO AVAILABLE AS AN EBOOK – KINDLE, IBOOKSTORE, NOOK, AND OTHERS


Alex's bio:

Alex J. Cavanaugh has a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree and works in web design and graphics. He’s experienced in technical editing and worked with an adult literacy program for several years. A fan of all things science fiction, his interests range from books and movies to music and games. Currently he lives in the Carolinas with his wife.

http://alexjcavanaugh.blogspot.com/

Soul Revival

I thought I would try something different. Break out of my little box. I thought I could not be controlling and just let fate take over.

Apparently, I still need some work.

I put my ipod on shuffle.

The first few songs were great. They were songs I hadn’t heard in a while. There were some songs I hear all the time that I really enjoy. This is going to be fun!

Then, a song my ex put on busted through my speakers. Flip.

Chapter 14 of a book. Flip.

A slow song. Flip.

A good song! Ahhhhh…

A song I really wasn’t interested in today. Shit.

Here is what I learned. I have a lot of shit on my ipod. A lot. Of shit. It’s time to do some housecleaning. Ear-cleaning? After all, it is dangerously close to its 30 gigabyte limit. I could make room for new stuff, or rather (since new is not so much my thing), some different stuff.

I am a little crazy about music, which may explain why my ipod is so full of, well, you know what. When I hear a song that I like, I must find out who sings it. Then I must listen to the entire album that song is on. That is how I decide if I truly like the song. A song is a chapter to me. The album is the book.

And, like many books I have read, I read other books by the same author. Likewise, I find as many albums by the same musician and listen to them. In order, just like I read chapters from a book. I feel there is a progression in music. One album relates and grows from the one previous. It is amazing to feel and hear and be inspired by the growth of the artist, to see how far they have come since their last release, the transitions, the risks taken.

Having said all this, there are two randomized playlists on my ipod. One, I am totally getting rid of. It is a mix of hip-hop, rap, and other loud beatbox music that I used to work out to, but no longer do. (Joan Jett has taken that job.) It is just obnoxious at this point in my life. While it was fun to hear some of it in my travels, I am never going to listen to it enough to justify the space it is taking up.

The other playlist is random rock songs. They are like that one line in the Shakespeare play that you love, that totally works in your life, but the idea of reading the whole play to get to that line makes you want to jump off the tallest building you can find. I’m keeping that playlist.

I did, however, find some gems I hadn’t heard in quite a while. How about these apples?

“Coat of Many Colors” by Dolly Parton (This still brings tears to my eyes.)

“Randy Scouse Git” by The Monkees (Why don’t you be like me?)

“Oxford Comma” by Vampire Weekend (For the record, I give a fuck about an oxford comma!)

“The Lemon Song” by Led Zeppelin (Squeeze my lemon…)

“Wish I Was a Kellogg’s Cornflake” by Simon and Garfunkel (I'm a citizen for boysenberry jam fan!)

“She Believes in Me” by Kenny Rogers (Don’t laugh. I’m from Nebraska for christ’s sake!)

"Meet Me in the Dark" by Melissa Etheridge (Anything by Melissa is good for me. And makes me want to give my BFF a big hug.)

And, possibly the biggest treat of the day was hearing “All I Wanna Do” by Sheryl Crow. There are too many good memories attached to that song to even start.)

So, even through the sigh, flip, sigh, flip, I had some goodness. My mind was flooded with happiness and my soul was revived.

I went on a hike today with the woman whom I have been referring to in this blog as “my long-lost dear friend”. I am no longer referring to her as that. It was like no time had passed at all. We talked all day and enjoyed the beauty around us. It was amazing, my heart is filled with gratitude that life is a circle and love conquers time and space. I am privileged enough to experience it all. Long-lost no more! She is now just my dear friend, Olivia. There is less than an hour between us now, not an entire country! And I couldn’t be happier to have her back!

Another Day Older and Deeper in Debt

Mr. Merle Travis probably wrote this song (16 Tons) after having some crazy premonition-like dream of the jungle and bid wars, which would eventually turn out to be be the premise behind the founding of both Amazon and Ebay.

This song is always in the back of my mind. Not because I am in debt. I'm not. Not anymore. I actually just paid off the last credit card a few weeks ago! YAY ME! And have resolved to not sign up for anymore. This, in spite of being asked every time I go to, um let's count, TJ Maxx, Kohl's, Macy's, Marshalls, Belk...nevermind, I don't have the energy to type them all out. Let's just say the my only safe haven from being badgered into the allure of 10% with approval is the self-checkout line at Kroger.

Back to the song. I love the movie Joe Versus the Volcano. Never seen it? Yeah, neither has anyone else. Except me. The opening sequence is Tom Hanks (late 80s mullet in tact) walking into his crappy factory job in Staten Island with Eric Burdon crooning in the background. Yes, I know when the movie came out (1990), I wasn't even old enough to work due to the child labor laws. But something about the beat and the emotion of the song stuck. And so here I am, 20 years later, mentioning it,  In public. Whatever. Go rent the movie. And tell me you don't just love the phrase “brain cloud”.

Oh, and it is the first "Tom Hanks-Meg Ryan" match up!  Which led the way for much better movies.  And no, I am not talking about You've Got Mail. 

So why am I even bringing up this magnificantly great B movie from so long ago?  Why title my blog-of-the-day after a song from 1946 (which officially constitutes "oldie" in my book)?  Well...it came to the front part of my brain yesterday.  You see, yesterday morning, I went to Amazon.com to buy a book. Notice what I said. Buy A Book. Singular. One. Not the plural form, which would be books. And I rarely shop on Amazon. I prefer Better World Books, with their carbon-free shipping and their good ethics. However, Amazon was the only place I could find a reasonable price on the the book I was looking for.

And there, beneath the only book I intented to buy that I had just added to my shopping cart, magic words appeared...

DAMN YOU SUGGESTIVE MARKETING! DAMN YOU TO HELL!

Yes, I was in a vulnerable state. I haven't bought anything off the internet in a while. I have been saving and saving and saving. I have no more debt. I am almost done with my current read (you'll hear all about it soon!). And I want to read...




I clicked.

DAMN YOU, SUGGESTIVE MARKETING! DAMN YOU TO HELL!

I bought. FOUR MORE BOOKS.

As I recovered from my indiscretions and pulled myself together from the pain of the number that's about to show up on my bank statement, I realized that I will actually enjoy all of these books and I will have plenty to share about once I get them. Okay, I have been good. I have been saving. And I'm spending my money on books. Not crap. BOOKS. Because I'm a dork like that. I can afford to splurge for the first time in my life and I'm not (also, for the first time in my life) buying crap. I felt better.

Upon awakening this morning, I had some emails from Amazon: “Your order has been shipped.” Five emails. Five orders have been shipped. No remorse now. I'm excited to jump in with both eyes and read, read, read!

So watch out, my fellow readers, I'm about to have a lot to write about. I love discussing books.

Thank you, suggestive marketing! Thank you for knowing what I might like to read!

Paul Simon is [GASP!] wrong...

My mom has a lot of opinions.  Many are about me.  Some are good.  Some are not so good.  Some I agree with.  Some, well, I just don't. 

Then, there is the one that is really worthless.  It's about my hair.  She hates my hair.  She can say this because I am adopted, and my hair is in no way her fault.  There is no genetic (or other) factor linking my hair to her.  To her credit, it is big, crazy, and unruly.  Oh, and I have two (yes, TWO!) cowlicks - one dead center in the front, and the other is dead center in the back.  So the only place to conceivably part my hair is straight down the middle.  But, then again, why is my hair such a point of contention?  This, especially since she has not had to do my hair on a consistent basis for well over 27 or 28 years now, I do not think I will ever know.

I do agree with her on one big thing.  I was born at the wrong time.  (Mind you, this is not her fault either, as she did not birth me.)   I was born in 1976, on the downward slope of the era I feel so attached to.

Never been lonely

Never been lied to

Never had to scuffle in fear

Nothing denied to

Born at the instant
The church bells chime

And the whole world whispering

Born at the right time

Sorry, Paul, this is one song I can't wrap my head around.

Yes, I'm a hippie.  I flash peace signs and wear bell-bottoms.  I listen to the music of musicans who are more frequently mentioned in the AARP magazine than Rolling Stone.  "Remastered" appears on nearly all my cds.  The bands I like either don't tour at all or go on reunion tours.  "New release" is not in my vocabulary.  I say things like "peace" and "groovy" (and have been known to say, "far out" on occasion).

My friends are also mostly all older than me.  I find a commonality with the people in the generation above mine.  I find my bonds and my soulmates within the people who grew up listening to the music I did (only in their case, it was new) and wore (notice the past tense) the same type of clothes I wear (notice the present tense).

I also watch reruns.  I love All in the Family, the Brady Bunch, the Partridge Family (oh, god, David Cassidy...god god god...), One Day at a Time, Mary Tyler Moore, Maude, Donny and Marie, etc, etc...anything from the 60s and 70s.  I think this is Ted Turner's fault.  When I was little, TBS ran reruns of all these shows from 4-8pm, Monday through Friday.  And due to my midwest upbringing, I had plenty of indoor time, November through March.

My feelings and attitudes also run deep in that time.  I feel every Beatles song deeply, the riff of Clapton's guitar, the lyrics of Paul Simon.  It seems that the music that I like has defined me as a person.  As I like a generation of music, I like other aspects about it, as well.  As I am moved by the cry against the social chaos of the message, I find myself emersed.  Janis Joplin was my idol for a while...until her insides became too toxic.  But her voice still takes me into a trance.  I have dreams of John Lennon.  I can turn on the Allman Brothers and literally pass my exit - by miles.

I am not a musician.  I am a fan.  I cannot play the guitar, but nothing soothes me more than the sound of one.  I have no vocal talent.  But a voice can carry me deep and far.  I am, however, a writer, and every lyric means something.  Every word must have meaning.  Every beat held a little longer than the last or a cut short has a poetic style to me.  I express myself through writing and I feel the expressions of others in theirs.

Isolated as I feel (real or not), in music, I am free and among friends.  And, on the rare occasion when something cosmic or meant-to-be happens in relation to this, I am on fire.  On one such time, I stumbled upon a book.  This is a book I will refer to often over the blog, so get it now. 

The book is called I Found All the Parts: Healing the Soul Through Rock 'n' Roll by Laura Faeth.

Got it?  Remember the book name, and hers.  It will be on the test.  OK, no test, but it will show up.  I can almost 100% promise that.  I promise because this book jerked me like only music can.  Coinsidence that it is actually about music?  I don't know.

First, I want to tell you that I did not find this book in a bookstore, or on one of my mad hunts online for something different to read.  This book landed on me.  On a rare day that I had the ipod off and was listening to the radio (the classic rock station - duh) on my way to work, there was an interview with a guy who had this genius marketing plan, and the product he was marketing that particular day was this book.  I listened to the whole interview and when I got to work, immediately got on the Barnes and Noble website so I could go get this book at lunch.  THEY DIDN'T HAVE IT!  Think, Ivy!  Think!  How do I get this book? 

Wow, you'd think I had never used a computer before...

I googled the name of the book and came to her website (wow, was that hard? I'm amazing sometimes!) and ordered it that day.

This book rocketed my out into outerspace.  FINALLY!  Someone feels the same way about music that I do!  FINALLY!  Someone gets that god exists out there in the realm of rock music.  FINALLY!  Someone feels the same way about music I do.  I began to write down things from the book.  I began to text message phrases to my musician friends.  I finally just ordered a copy of the book for one of them because I couldn't possibly recite the whole book to him! 

Through I have friends who love music as I do, even friends who are musicians themselves, I still have this perpetual feeling of alone and unique.  This book effectively erased that.  My conception of god was validated through reading this book, a conception I have been trying to figure out for years.  My quest is far from complete, but god and music and life and love and health are all inner-related.  And I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt, not just through my experience, but also because of Laura Faeth.  With her permission, I have posted the link the her website, as well as the picture of her book cover.

Every healthy part of me is because of music.  I was pretty severly hurt last year, hardly able to move, and I laid on the couch listening to VH1 Classic.  My first outing (while still in pain), was to see my friends' band.  It was the first time I was not in pain in weeks.  I just stood there against the wall, with my eyes closed, listening to the music, feeling the vibration of sound against the wall, and I was free. 
In my darkest mental states, music has been there, riding me through.  Pulling up out of myself and my funk, to bring me back to life.

Thank you, Laura Faeth, for re-affirming my beliefs, and for making me feel not so alone.

To those of you reading this, I want to warn you that music is everywhere I am.  Sometimes, a random song lyric becomes a phrase for me, and I don't even realize it.  So if you read something that sounds familiar, it probably is.  And I like to talk about it.  I may relate some of my dreams and feelings while listening to a particular song or artist.  I hope you can tolerate it. 

My current read is a book I learned about through Laura Faeth, entitled The Spiritual Significance of Music by Justin St. Vincent.  The link to his site and picture are also reprinted here with his permission.  It is very cool so far.  I'll let you know.  Once again, this is a book I had to google to find.  But totally worth it. I guess the lesson is lessons must be sought.

Sorry, Paul, I was not born at the right time.  I'm glad you were.  You are one of my inspirations.