Anatomy Of A Photograph...

 I remember, back when I started telecommuting in 2018, I was a little worried I'd run out of things to photograph and use for my Pic Of The Day. It's true, from that point on most of the photos I used came from inside or around my house. Finding new things to photograph made me be a little more creative...

And, after all, wasn't that the whole point of the pictures?

Fast forward two years. We've moved into a new home in a town an hour away. If I thought I was a homebody then, that's nothing to my life now. The last time I drove my car was Friday. It may not move for another week. In other words, I am home all the time and once again on the search for things to photograph.

Which leads me to a little picture I snapped and shared a few weeks ago.

I think I was on my way to get some a quick dinner--there are several fast food establishments a few miles to the south. To get there, we drive out of our newly established neighborhood, past several horse properties, then onto the flats. Because our new town is agrarian, there are water canals all over this valley. It's amazing how much water there is up here. I turned right and crossed the canal. I glanced west and the sky above was on fire. The sight was amazing.

I drove a few feet, then pulled over. I doubled back and parked Donk the Subaru. I got out and snapped a couple of pictures, hoping some may turn out. I found one I liked and shared it. It's not a perfect picture--far from it, but I like the colors. I like how the water below breaks up the dark negative space. But, what I like most, is it's a few of our new home, a way to see this beautiful area for how it is...

I need to get out more and take more pictures of the area. With things getting colder, I'll probably spend more and more time inside, so I've got to kick that creative thing up a notch. Hopefully, as we put in a yard complete with beautiful plants and flowers, I'll have more things to photograph. Until then, I'll keep my eyes peeled for all the amazing things that surround us all.

What #GiveThanks Showed Me...

 My wife and I heard the challenge the Friday before Thanksgiving as we drove home from the grocery store. The message was simple, an experiment, really. We were challenged to post things for which we were grateful on social media and use the hashtag GiveThanks with our posts.

There was also a promise. We were told if we accepted and followed through with this challenge, we'd see things in a different light. Since I post at least two things every day on social media, I accepted the challenge. I was happy to do it. For one thing, it gave me seven blog post topics right off the bat (sometimes, coming up with something to write about every day can be a challenge in and of itself...). Now, I had seven posts ready to go...I just had to think of things--and write about things--for which I was thankful.

I wrote seven blog posts. I posted seven PicOfTheDay photos and I used the #GiveThanks hashtag on each. And I'm here to say, President Nelson was 100% right. He nailed it.

There's something I've learned in my many days and years. I remember thinking about photography and writing comic strips. I've tried both. I wondered how photographers could take such amazing pictures form things everyone else sees. They can look at a street, or a hillside, or an animal and see art. Why doesn't everyone see the same things?

I wondered about how people who create successful comic strips come up with their ideas as well. I came to the conclusion, that in both instances, photography and comic strips, the artists have changed the way they see the world. They've trained their brains to see the beauty of the street, hillside, animal. They see the comedy in the mundane and create a comic to tell the story.

What has all this to do with #GiveThanks?

This past week, I was reminded of my thoughts on photography and comic strips because I believe happy people have trained their brains to be grateful. They see the beauty. They recognize the things they've been given and they are thankful. It becomes habit. I found that as I looked for things on which to give thanks, I suddenly saw them everywhere--everywhere I looked, more and more things. I think that's the biggest thing I took away from the challenge.

I wrote in one of my #GiveThanks posts that I could write a post every day on what I'm thankful for and never run out of things to write about. I believe that now more than ever. I loved my week. I loved reading the thousands of other #GiveThanks posts. I hope I can continue to train my brain to look for those things. I want to continue to see things in a different light.

#GiveThanks.

I Really Don't Know Why I Like These Cars That Much...

 We were pulling out of the parking lot and I spotted it, a red Volkswagen Beetle, late 60s - early 70s (my ability to correctly identify VWs has diminished over the years...). We circled around, and I snapped a picture.

I really don't know why I like these cars so much.

I shouldn't. As far as cars go, there's not a lot to like. They're unreliable, at least all the bugs I've owned in my life, and since I haven't owned one in over twenty-five years, I highly doubt they've become more reliable in that time. They're small. They're definitely unsafe. There's no heater that works. And for many, they're about the ugliest car ever made.

Still...

I can't help it. I love them.

When I saw the bug, it took me back. In 1987 I bought a 1972 superbeetle--my second bug (I can't believe the car was only fifteen years old--my daughter drives a sixteen-year old car now...). The 1972 bug was orange and it had its issues. I paid $500 for it. That same car in that same condition would be worth probably $4k today. I hired my cousin to paint it for me. I've been told it drove him mad getting it painted. I'm glad he did it because it turned out beautiful, a deep cherry red.

When I saw the car in the parking lot, I wished I once again had a a bug. They're a kick to drive and they actually do quite well in the snow. But, talk about impractical. They're manual transmissions--a few automatics were built, but I haven't seen one of them on the road in decades. This means I'd be the only one in the family who could drive it. We moved to a somewhat colder climate so driving it would not be pleasant in the winters. It only seats four and there's no room to pack anything.

Like I said, totally impractical.

Still...

I think if I had the means, I'd still love to have one parked in our garage. Of course, I'd have to park it over something to collect all the oil dripping from the engine...don't want to dirty up a new garage floor.

Clarence...Was Definitely Right

 Yes, Clarence was right.

One of the most thoughtful lines in one of my most favorite films.

In the past week, I've read hundreds of posts of people expressing gratitude for the things in their life. I've read them because most were friends. I'm grateful for them and that I can call them friends.

In the end of It's a Wonderful Life, George Bailey is shown what an amazing life he really has, and that he's had that life all along--he just didn't see it. I thought of this very quote as I read well wishes friends sent to me today.

Now, I don't consider myself a failure--sure, there's some things I'd like to improve about myself, but Clarence's words ring (see what I did there...?) true for everyone, no matter how you feel about yourself.

Remember no man is a failure who has friends.

To all my friends, thanks for everything.

Give Thanks...Day 7--Adoption

 

Day 7

Adoption

I grew up always knowing I was adopted. It wasn't weird--on the contrary, it was the most normal thing in the world. Both my siblings were adopted--it's just the way things were. 

As an adoptee, my childhood was pretty much like everyone else, at least, it was for me. My parents were my parents, my siblings were my siblings. I grew up knowing I was loved and figured my birth parents made a great decision allowing someone else to raise me. I was brought into a large family, and by large, I mean large. My dad was one of twelve, my mom one of three. I was surrounded by cousins, people I love to this day.

We grew up in the west, with open skies and adventures. We hiked the Tetons most summers and sledded down our mountain most winters. Looking back, it's hard for me to imagine a better place to be raised and better people to do the raising.

Then, things changed as I've grown. I'm still so grateful for my parents and incredible family, but as I get older, thoughts of my birth parents have risen to the surface. I've wondered what they were like, questions I would ask them if given the chance. Seeing as how they would both be in the 80s now and possibly not even with us anymore, the chances I may meet them dims a little each day. It's okay if I never meet them in this life. I'll have the opportunity later (hopefully, much later).

When I look back on my life, everything hinges on that one decision, that one action that placed me with Harry and Lois Taylor. Everyone I know is a direct result of that action. Everything I've ever done is affected by it. We can speculate what my life would have been like had things turned out differently. I'd like to think I would be loved and have had a great life, but that's all academic. It didn't. We can't go back.

And I don't think I'd want to, if that were even possible. 

I am grateful for adoption, for the opportunity people have to raise children who are unable to do so otherwise. It literally means everything for me and I thank God that it happened to me.

Give Thanks...Day 6--Performing

 Back in the fall of 2000, I had a crazy idea to try out for a play, a community theater production of their annual Christmas program. I brought along my then five-year old son to also audition. That one decision, in a way, changed my life from that point on. We both made the cast and did the show. We did the same show a year later. And in the over two decades since that decision, theater has been a part of my life--not every show, not every year, but eventually, I've found my way back to the hardwood of the stage.

I know many have never had the opportunity to perform with a group of amateurs on a stage in front of a paying audience. It's not for everyone, I understand. If you haven't, you may have some pre-conceived notions of what you'll learn and go through from the experience. I know I did. I can with certainty say, you can't possibly imagine all the things you'll learn, you'll feel, you'll experience doing a community theater show.

In the past twenty years, I have made life-long friendships. I have had incredible experiences--almost spiritual, in some cases. I have had the opportunity to exercise blind faith, leave my comfort zone, and take a chance--risk. There's something about being on stage...you feel alive.

These pictures represent my community theater career quite well. I'm usually in the ensemble. Once again, that doesn't work for some, but it suits me well. In the one show, I was Pig #2. In the second show, I was a towns person. Being in the ensemble means you're also other things. In Shrek, for example, I was Pig #3, a prisoner, a town member of Duloc, and a few other things. In Beauty and the Beast, I was a town member, a cheese grater, Monsieur D'Arque, and a few other things

One thing that has been a true blessing for me is that I have had the opportunity to do numerous shows with my kids, two of the kids, a least. I did many shows with my son. For the past decade or so, my daughter and I shared the stage. Yes, it's a lot of time, but what an amazing thing to spend time with your kids.

We moved recently. There's fewer theaters here, fewer opportunities. I have no idea when I'll get the opportunity again. But, if I never participate in another show, I'll always love the time I spent on stage. 

During the last show I did, I smuggled my phone backstage and snapped the picture of Wendy and Peter Pan talking. It shows their relationship from an angle unseen by the audience. In fact, me and my fellow cast members were the only ones that experienced the show from that perspective. Doing a show is watching the world from a different perspective. That's one of the reasons I've loved doing it.

Give Thanks...Day 5--Work

I've mentioned on this blog before that there's opposition in all things. It's one of the few absolutely sure things I know. There's good, there's bad. There's up, there's down. Sad, happy. Big, small.

So, what does opposition have to do with work?

Well, it depends on how you see it.

This week I've taken up the challenge to post things for which I am grateful. Many of my friends and thousands of others have done the same. Most have listed the obvious things, family, health, pets, church, lessons learned. When I think of these things, there is one thing that--for me--allows most of us to enjoy the incredible things found in this life. 

Work.

I have been blessed with work. Since high school, except for my mission and a few months here and there, I've been employed. I've had jobs I've absolutely loved, being a stuntman and part of the Seance crew at Lagoon were a few. I've had jobs I absolutely hated, Feature Films for Families was one of them. I'm thankful that for the past almost twenty-five years I've been working for the same organization. I had a couple promotions, been passed up for many others. It took me a long time to realize, work wasn't about the promotions--it was about doing my best and finding joy in the journey.

Work can suck, and it usually does...even the best jobs have sucky times. But I feel humans must work. As a species, if we don't work, we die. Although it's not as pronounced now for many, it's still true. I have many friends who have done well in their careers. They post pictures on social media (or, they used to before this year...) of amazing places they've visited, amazing memories they've created with their families and loved ones. A major reason for this is because they work hard.

When I thought of seven things to write about this week, work wasn't one of them. But, when the idea hit me, it made more and more sense. Yes, I am grateful for work, because there is opposition in all things, work that sometimes sucks can result in good times.

Give Thanks...Day 4--Pets

Last week, I heard a talk given by the leader of our church. He challenged us to post only uplifting things, things for which we are thankful, and to use the hashtag, GiveThanks in our posts. The challenge is to last seven days. Today, is Day 4.

I chose pets.

I've not always been a pet guy. As little kids we had first a cat, Lucy (that ran away to the cat lady's house down the street...), then Waldo--a big black lab that was too much dog for my mom and three little kids.

We then got Tasha, a shih tzu/sneaky neighbor dog mix, and that was a wonderful pet for our family. Tasha lived for seventeen years. She survived my teenage years, my college years, and the first couple of years of my marriage. We all loved Tasha and it was bittersweet when we had to put her down. She was such a tough little dog, she could no longer walk when we had to make that decision.

My wife is a cat person, so we got cats. I have come to not only appreciate cats, but enjoyed them being around...except when they're kittens and the scratch up your arms and legs to the point where a person could play tic-tac-toe on the scratches if one wished.

The thing about pets is they become totally dependent upon their owners. Maybe that's why we love them so much (and why, at times, they can drive us crazy...). The world of a pet is defined by us humans. We--usually--dictate where they live, how much space they get, what they eat, and so forth. Maybe that's why they love us so much (and why, at times, we can drive them crazy...).

During the past couple of years, we had to put down a cat we rescued from the street. Gracie was a gift, a wonderful pet and companion. Then, our dog Patch was next. She was the dog that grew up with our kids. Absolutely gut-wrenching. The pain is in direct relation to what they mean to us.

We now have two cats and a dog. Tonight, my son's dog curled up at my daughter's feet. How special is that? It's just one reason why I'm thankful for pets.

Give Thanks...Day 3--Sundays

 I am thankful for Sundays.

A day of rest.

Today is a great example. I spent the day at home with my family. Normally, I would attend church, but due to circumstances beyond our control, that's a little difficult right now. Thankfully, technology allows us to do the next best thing--attend virtually.

I remember my mother telling me something about my father. He designed, and was in the process of building, our house when he got sick and passed away. She told me, when it came time for us to help build our own house, that they never worked on the house on Sundays.

Since he started the house in 1970 and passed away in 1974, he could have worked an extra two-hundred days on the house...give or take. That's more than half a year. I'm confident in saying that with those days, the house would have been finished by they time he died, leaving his wife and three children under the age of 11 a home that would not need to be worked on later. He chose not to do that.

So did we.

In addition to not working on the house, I tried as best I could not to do any homework for both my degrees on Sundays. Admittedly, I didn't like doing homework any of the other days, either, but making that personal rule allowed me an excuse. 

The earth rotates one turn seven times in a week. To it, Sunday is just another rotation. It's us who give the day its meaning. I'm grateful for Sundays, a day unlike all the others...a day of rest.

Give Thanks...Day 2--Where I Live

 I grew up in an amazing time. My parent's generation lived during the Great Depression. I have cousins that were born before the WWI. I remember hearing my mother tell us of the time when she remembered  receiving electricity and running water in their Driggs, Idaho home.

I imagine, my kids and grandkids will talk about how their father/grandfather grew up during a time where there was no internet. I don't think growing up without running water in the house and being without the internet are the same thing, but maybe to some they are.

The point is, my parents were born in the United States of America. My kids and I were born here, too. I'm dedicating this week to things for which I am thankful. When it comes to places where one would like to be born, I feel I hit the jackpot. I know it's not a popular opinion for some, and I can respect that opinion. USA is by no means perfect, but to quote something I heard the other day, America may not be perfect, but the goal of the country is to become a more perfect union. 

In my fifty-four years, eleven months, and twenty-two days, I've been fed, clothed, sheltered. I've never felt unsafe. I've never felt unloved. Much of that is due to loving parents/friends who took upon themselves the responsibility to take care of those they loved. These facts astound me. Many people around the globe can say the same thing--we're not unique in this. I'm grateful to live in a land that gives people the opportunity to succeed, to thrive, to pursue their dreams. 

America is, and has always been, an experiment. It exists because the people living within its borders believe in this experiment. If they give up that dream, abandon its principles, the nation ceases to be. We are at a crossroads, a country experiencing an identity crisis. I am no fortune teller. I cannot predict how things will turn out. I do, however, have faith in the people of this country. They are, for the most part, good and wish to do good for themselves and others. This is my hope. This is my prayer. It is why I give thanks for the land in which I live, the land that I love.

#GiveThanks...Day 1--Family

It's amazing how two little, single-syllable words can make such a big difference.

Give Thanks

This morning the leader of my church delivered a message. It was sweet. It was succinct. It was needed. For the next seven days President Nelson challenged us to post only uplifting messages on social media and to use the hashtag GiveThanks with our posts. He suggested that at the end of those seven days, we would feel different (you can watch his message by clicking: HERE...).

I'm betting he's right.

Since I write a daily post, I'm going to consider--then write about--things of which I am thankful. I'm not placing them in any order of importance, only to have them included. To be honest, I could write everyday about things for which I am thankful--I could write every minute for the rest of my life and never run out of things to include.

Fifteen years ago, I wrote up a family Christmas letter and I included the above photo of the kids and our dog, Patch. It was taken in the winter (hence, the Christmas lights up on our porch...). I can't believe it's been that long. Several years later, we took a picture from the same vantage point. So much had changed between the two pictures, and so much has changed between then and now. The adorable dog is no longer with us, nor is that any longer our house. My eldest is married and has begun an adventure of his own, and, well...we're all older.

I can't imagine my life without these four. They made/make me a father, a provider, a teller of "dad jokes." The things the have taught me, the memories, the wisdom, the love, the trials and the triumphs...all part of the deal, a deal I wouldn't trade for all the money in the world.

Tonight, I give thanks for them. I pray I may be worthy of their love and respect. God is great to give me such an opportunity.

It's Weird Seeing Something You Donated...For Rent

 A friend of mine said whenever his family went to our local thrift store, they didn't "buy" things...they rented.

I thought that a very astute observation. Eventually everything you buy from a thrift store usually gets returned to the same thrift store.

The local thrift store chain where we live is called Deseret Industries. It's used as a donation/work skills center for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It's like Goodwill, but different, and it's one of my favorite places to go.

A few weeks ago, we loaded up our minivan with items from my mother-in-law's house and from our house to donate. With both of us moving, we have a lot of things we no longer need. I'm sure we could find several more van loads of things to donate...maybe when we get everything unboxed. 

Sure, donating is nice--you get warm fuzzy feelings by clearing out things you no longer need and you're helping others to find things they need--but another part of what I enjoy about visiting the thrift store is to shop...ah, I mean, find things to rent. I've found some good treasures over the years. Also, I've found some turkeys, too. 

The other day, I returned to the Deseret Industries closest to us--we needed a small file cabinet. Luckily, I found one. I also spotted a chair and ottoman that looked familiar. It looked familiar because we had dropped off that same exact chair weeks earlier. The chair was decades-old and in my mother-in-law's house all that time. It was a comfortable chair--in fact, it was hard to get out of once you were settled.

Not knowing all the secrets of the thrift store, I know they have to throw away a lot of things, things that are no longer "rent-able." I don't know if the chair found a new home, or if it's gone the way of all the earth. Who knows--maybe one day in the future I'll be browsing and I'll see that chair. If someone bought it, there's a good chance it may show up again...to be rented.

Are "U" Ready For Some Football? Um...Yeah

 Back in March of this year, I don't think any of us understood how much things were going to change in 2020. They said "Two weeks to flatten the curve." That turned into nine months with really no end in sight.

As far as sports, covid changed everything. Immediately, they canceled the NCAA tournament and postponed both the NBA and NHL seasons. Surely though, it wouldn't affect college football, right.

Wrong.

But wait! They bring back NHL and NBA games. They play baseball and soccer. Surely, they can make sure college football won't get canceled, right?

Wrong...

Well, kind of wrong. Depends who you are and where you are.

For a University of Utah football fan, this fall has been brutal. One by one, conferences canceled seasons. I chalked up the non-season as another crappy part of the year. Then, a ray of hope pierced the clouds--conferences were changing their minds. They would play! Games would happen! Football was not dead! Right?

Wrong...

Well, kind of wrong. Depends on who you are and where you are.

Conferences begin scheduling games, hype builds. Other schools begin playing. It's tough, but okay, because eventually my Utah Utes will take the field to the delight of me and many others. Weeks go by, other teams play...Game Day draws near. But, then I hear of scheduled games that don't happen, games canceled due to positive covid tests. Oh no, I think. That won't/can't happen to the Utes, right?

Wrong.

Okay, game one canceled--that sucks, but it won't/can't happened twice in a row, right?

Wrong again.

At this point, I'm about to hang up my Utah hat for the rest of the year. Now Game Day is scheduled for this weekend, Utah vs. USC. Will it happen? No clue. I'm almost afraid to get my hopes up. Salt was poured into my wounds when I found out two California schools decided--on the fly--to play each other last Sunday because both of their opponents had their games canceled, one of those teams was Utah.

In no way am I implying these decisions to play/cancel are not important. My wish to watch is less important than the health and safety of the players, coaches, and personnel involved in these games. It's just been a pain as a fan to ride this roller coaster.

When we look back on this year, for me not watching a couple of games shouldn't be that biggest issue we remember. I'm hopeful they'll play this weekend. I'd love it f they could get a win. And if they do--and especially win--well...that'll be one of those good days.

My Nephew...Telling It Like It Is

I found out today (as did everyone else...) my nephew was interviewed on the local news. He is a person who is in the thick of it, working in a hospital under those conditions those of us who don't work in hospitals only hear about.

He and thousands of others are dealing with covid patients.

I can't imagine what his day is like. I can't image what many people who are dealing with this every day (and have dealt with it for months...) what their days are like. And I hope I don't find out. For my immediate family, there have been issues, but this situation has not affected us like it has so many others. I've kept working--never lost a day of work, and even though I know people who have contracted the virus and even had friends who have passed, my family has been spared.

I pray it remains that way.

That goes for my nephew and his beautiful family as well.

The news story's not a happy one. As the title suggests, many are considering leaving the state because of the situation, and many are considering leaving the profession because, where are they going to go that isn't dealing with the same thing? If you'd like to watch the report, click: HERE for the link. I hope those with covid can recover and those treating them can be free of it, and that it can be something we think about only in the past.

Holy Black Ice...Batman!

You probably can't tell from these photos, but between the newly applied pavement and the cold air above is a thin layer of ice. The reason only a patch of ice and not ice covering the entire road is because this is where my car was parked. When I parked my car, the entire road was covered by ice. After a few hours of direct sunlight and the rest of the road cleared.

But not that little patch.

I grew up in Utah. It snows in Utah. It gets cold in Utah. Basically, we have winter weather. And because I grew up here, I learned to drive in winter weather. I didn't like snowstorms through which you could barely see, but I drove through them sometimes. There was one thing that, no matter how much experience you have with winter weather, I avoided whenever possible...

Black ice.

That's bad stuff. A few years ago we had some frozen rain, which is one way to create black ice. The other day we had some slushy rain/snow hit around 11pm. Then the cold came in and froze the water. Luckily, none of us had to go anywhere in the morning so we could wait until the ice was gone to safely drive.

One thing I've noticed as I've gotten older is people are worse at driving in the snow than they used to be. This isn't an "old man" rant...well, it kind of is, but I have a theory. There's a couple of reasons why I believe this to be true. First, there are more all-wheel drive vehicles out there. It used to be you drove a two-wheel drive car, or a big 4x4 truck of Jeep. Those truck/Jeep drivers knew how to handle snow. Cars are smarter now--they do more thinking for the driver than they used to do. And second, I think communities are better at clearing the streets than they used to be. Back then we'd drive in snow, even unplowed streets. Now, I don't remember the roads being as snowy because they clear them quicker.

What does this have to do with black ice? I don't see it as much anymore, which is a good thing, but also, we're less prepared for bad conditions. Maybe that's why I noticed to last week...because it's rare.

Tomorrow...Is A NEW (And Warmer) Day

 I've been working at home for two and a half years, thirty months, 913 days, give or take. Tomorrow, my work day will not begin like all the other work days that preceded it. Tomorrow, I'll work in a room that has carpet on the floor, paint on the walls, and most importantly, a room that is temperature-controlled. 

In other words, I'll be working in a finished space.

It's been a while.

When I first came home to work, I was in the basement of our previous house. Yes, it was wonderful in the summer, but got a little cold in the winter. Thanks to a thrift store space heater, I was toasty warm, as long as I didn't venture too far from my desk. But, as the only constant in life is change, we decided to move. We found a house that didn't have all the rooms we need, but it had the potential. As of today, that potential has translated to sheet rocked rooms in the basement and soon, an upstairs bedroom currently being used by my daughter will be my office, ready for a desk, my work computer, and two nice monitors.

It's been a long time coming.

In the new house, I had set up my desk in our spacious garage. And it was working well, but then the colder temperatures came. Last Thursday, it got down to 55º and that was when I decided to move inside. It never got that cold in the basement--it got cold, but the basement was underground--outside temperatures didn't change it much. In the garage, colder temperatures means a colder garage. And it's going to get colder. My little space heater can't keep up with that.

We're going to be "cozy" for a few weeks until the basement is done. I'll be in the master bedroom so my wife will be leaving earlier than normal. She was the one who encouraged me to finally come inside and I'm glad she did.

Tomorrow is a new day...definitely, a warmer one. Of course, I'll have a cat to worry about. Got to protect the keyboard.

My First Virtual Writing Conference...Made Me Miss The Real Thing Even More

 I watched as the attendees logged off. One-by-one, the rectangles that represented a viewer disappeared until only John and I remained.

That's when it hit me.

That's when I really missed attending conventions in person.

Fyrecon 4 ends today. The past three years, the little gathering has always been a place geared toward both the novice and experienced writer, artist, editor, creator. It's a great little convention usually held in the summer. But, that didn't happen, so they scrambled, went virtual, and put it on this weekend. I've been fortunate enough to be involved in the previous three Fyrecon events. 

This year, my class dealt with using the power of social media to help you as a writer. As I explained to start the class, I'm no expert. I wanted to set up an environment where we could discuss the topic and try to find ways to improve. Hopefully, we did that. I know I found some new perspectives to try.

After the meeting a good friend, John Olsen (current President of the League of Utah Writers--a little "name drop" for you...) and I stayed and chatted. John and I have had the opportunity to be published by the same publisher not once, but twice. One thing that you don't see if you go to conventions and meet the authors is that many of those authors are friends and we love to sit and shoot the bull in between sales and sales pitches.

It's usually the small things that you miss when events are taken away. Yes, we remember being on panels and sometimes meeting our writing heroes at these conventions. But, what I really wanted to do as my class shut down, was find a corner of the Davis Campus building and sit with John, Kelly, Jay, Julie, Dave, Craig, David, James, Holli, Jason, and so many others.

Thanks DawnRay and Jenna for ALL the work you put in for us, and to John for sticking around.

Until next time, when we can be together...

For real.

You Can Really Never Go Home...

 For the first time since moving, I went back last Tuesday.

And I realized, I can never really go home again.

When I say Farmington Utah was my hometown, that's exactly what it was. I was such a part of that community (and that community was such a part of me...), that I could not even consider me being a citizen of any other city. I saw homes be built, entire neighborhoods rose from the ground, streets cleared, then paved, children grow to adulthood, and saw dozens of its citizens pass away, my parents included.

For fifty years, I was Farmington, and it was me.

But that's gone.

And it's never coming back.

The concept of "home" is tricky. During my grade school years, home was me, my brother, sister, and mom living on our street. After I got married and began a family of my own, we moved back to that street, eventually building a house I still love. When my mom passed away four years later, it was still home...

But, was it really?

Looking back, I don't think so. I think once my mom died, it was my home, my family's home, but not the home that it used to be. If we sold our home and moved back--even moved back to the same street, the same house, it wouldn't be home tomorrow, it wouldn't be home--something's forever changed. Sure, we can return, but my mom can't. I'll never have that again, my siblings living together, under the same roof. No, home disappeared years ago. I was holding on to memories, to ghosts and calling it home.

It was a strange feeling standing in the parking lot of the Rock Hotel Dental building, looking up at the mountain I considered as much of my own as anyone's. And yet, there was no longer a claim, a feeling of ownership, of belonging. 

Since leaving, I wondered how I would feel when I came back. I'm not necessarily sad, or bitter, or regretful. I think the realization that it's never going to be the place it once was--for me--was the thing that surprised me the most. I'll always love that place, my childhood--then adult--memories of those streets, those homes, those incredible sunsets, the sounds of Lagoon in summer, even the howling winds, the mountain trails, and the smell of the lake when a storm blew in. That little town is part of my D.N.A...

It's just no longer "home."

I Had NO Idea...There Were Two-Handed Bowlers

Last Sunday, I was not watching the NFL. No, my channel surfing lead me to something else, something I hadn't watched in years...maybe decades.

Pro Bowlers.

It was the intro that fascinated me. Before the bowling balls rolled and the pins fell (or did not fall...), the commentators, by trying to lure viewers, touted the upcoming tournament as exciting a bowling event as ever there was one.

Then, they said something that blew my mind. They said they had the best one-handed bowlers and two-handed bowlers in the world.

What in the heck is a two-handed bowler, I asked myself?

Turns out, it's a bowler that uses both hands to guide the ball toward the pins. That hooked me and I had to find out what it was all about. 

I didn't watch the entire tournament--I mean, that's a lot of bowling for someone who hasn't watched the sport on TV in a long, long time. Before cable, we'd watch bowling, figure skating, swimming, diving, golf, tennis--whatever they put on ABC's Wide World of Sports. It's all we had.

No way they had two-handed bowlers back then.

But, we have them now.

Veterans Day...2020

 I can't imagine the kind of life my father lived growing up. Born in 1924, spent his teens during the Great Depression, enlisted in WWII. Came home, got his degree, became a deputy sheriff, an engineer, a judge, a husband and a father.

He was one of thousands who served his country, and another who is no longer with us.

I've written of my father many times on this blog--perhaps more than any other single person.

And I'll most likely keep doing it.

Today, our country honors those who served. They lived a life and paid a price we can't understand. I'll be forever grateful to them for it.

If You Haven't Read/Heard Of "Chaser" By Scott Taylor...You Should! (An Experiment)

A few years ago, a little book was released upon the world. It received several great reviews, even one from international bestselling author, Sherrilyn Kenyon, author of the Dark Hunter series.

Back when it first came out, I blogged about it--a lot--and tried getting the word out. Since we're heading into the holiday season, I can't think of a better gift than the gift of wonder, of adventure, of escape (literally...) to a new world.

 Chaser is that book.

I am that author.

And I'd love for you to check out the book if you haven't read it, or tell someone about it--better yet, order it for Christmas--for someone else.

I've been asked by several if there will be a sequel. I'd love to continue the adventures of Chaser and his human, Kennedy "Kenny" Barnes. I just don't have the story in my head. For now, it's something that might happen. Time will tell.

If you'd like to check out Chaser, click: HERE for the link. Regardless, I hope wherever you are, you and your family are safe and healthy and doing well.

Visiting Friends...At The Tremonton Library

In another episode of New Life Is A Lot Like The Way Things Used To Be, I visited the Tremonton Library last week, and once again I was reminded of how life used to be. The library's not the largest collection of books I've ever seen, but it contains many treasures.

I saw many books written by friends.

The library is not big. Of course, in a modern world, you can order books to be delivered to even the smallest of libraries, plus, there's always digital downloads where you can get almost any book ever written. You don't need a big building for that...just a Kindle.

As we browsed, I spotted a book written by a good friend, Scott Tarbet. Scott and I sort of began our literary adventure together, both with Xchyler Publishing. I loved seeing Scott's first novel, A Midsummer Night's Steampunk. I've always loved that cover.

Then, I spotted Dan Willis's The Flux Engine. I met Dan at the first convention I ever attended--also the first time I met Scott Tarbet. The Flux Engine had been released and Dan was pushing it.

I spotted Margot Hovley's Glimmering Light next. I've been friends with Margot for a long time. She's a great author and a better person--so glad to see that book.

Before we left I saw Sara Larson's Warriors of Wing and Flame, I believe it's her latest. I've been fortunate enough to be on a few FanX writing panels with her and she's been kind enough to sign several books for my daughter, books I've read.

I'm sure there are more books from my friends in the library--didn't have time to check them all out. I hope to return many times, and I hope one day my book/books will be among those of my friends.

Even though it's a small building, it contains many treasures.