A good story

I love a good story. One with fun and action and likable characters and a happy ending. There's nothing like diving into a new movie or TV show or book and finding a unique story that just sucks you in and keeps you entertained from beginning to end. Some of my favorite examples include the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie, the Firefly TV show, and the Hunger Games book. And this weekend I have high hopes for Cowboys and Aliens.

No, I haven't seen it yet since it's just opening today, but the reviews are good. I love the concept and as soon as I heard it, I wanted to kick myself for not thinking of it first. After all, why do you need high tech gadgets to fight aliens? Even in alien stories set in the future like Battlestar Galactica, we still get our butts handed to us by the aliens. But in the past, the stench coming from a bunch of grimy gold miners should be able to take out an alien fleet.

Of course, one problem with a lot of the entertainment I've run across lately is that it's just a bunch of sequels that re-hash the same story over again. Or when movies there's very little story at all and just a bunch of explosions or car crashes. I find myself leaving the theater wondering why they didn't spend a little more on a screenwriter and saved themselves millions on special effects.

So I'm hoping to see a unique story this weekend with an actual plot and dialogue, and if they just re-hash it for a sequel next summer, I'll guess I'll worry about that when it happens.

Happy summer movie going!
Kim

Formatting isn't for wimps

Stones of Abraxas is officially edited for the final time and ready for formatting in my self-publishing odyssey. I've been reading a lot about the formatting process at different self-publishers, and the consensus seems to be that it's a process for the anal retentive. Apparently if an author isn't prepared to be be obsessive-compulsive about it, then she should hire a professional to do the formatting.

After giving it some thought, I've decided that I should try my own formatting. While my house is messy and I'm far from a perfectionist when it comes to anything else I do, I'm actually very careful about following written rules with the things I write. Years ago when I was finishing my doctoral dissertation, most of the other students paid formatters to put their dissertations into the appropriate format demanded by my university. The university had a 100+ page handbook that we needed to follow to the letter when typing our dissertations. Any mistakes would delay approval of the research and possibly graduation.

Was I daunted by the school's obsessive requirements? No, it was a challenge, so I formatted my dissertation myself. Shortly after submitting it, I got a call from a lady in the dissertation office. She complained that I was supposed to have put the name of my formatter on my dissertation, but it wasn't there. I said I hadn't used one. She was stunned. She said that no one ever had such a clean copy after doing it themselves.

Because of this one success ten years ago, I've convinced myself that I can format my own self-published book. Am I deluded? Maybe. But I've got to give it a shot, and if I'm successful, then I'll save some cash and will never be intimidated by this again. And if I try and fail, then I'll have to admit that I'm not quite as obsessive-compulsive as I thought. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Next time you see me, my back will be sore from hunching over my keyboard. :)

Kim

What's a hobby?

Whenever you fill out the profile page at any of the online sites that I visit, like Blogger, Twitter, Facebook, etc., one of the questions is always about hobbies. This one leaves me scratching my head. What, exactly, qualifies as a hobby? Can I list my cats? I spend a lot of time feeding, caring for, cleaning up after, and sitting under my cats, but does that count as a hobby? It's not exactly the same as cross country skiing.

Speaking of cross country skiing, how much time every year does a person have to do something in order for it to count as a hobby? Here in Illinois, there are relatively few days every year when there's enough snow on the ground to cross country ski, and even fewer days when the temperature is above zero, the wind chill won't freeze your nose off your face, and there aren't chunks of ice falling from the sky. In other words, if you want to cross country ski here, you've got about 4.5 days per year when you can do it. Can that qualify as a hobby?

How about completely non-active pastimes that I enjoy and spend a lot of time doing? Like watching TV. Is that a hobby or a bad habit? Same thing with drinking wine or eating chocolate or oversleeping. At what point does one cross the line from being a wine connoisseur (hobby) to being a drunk (bad habit)? And how about comfy clothes? I actually spend time and money looking for comfortable clothing to wear, so shouldn't that count as a hobby?

Here's another one: What about writing? Sure, I spend a lot of time writing, but since the goal there is to make money, does that exclude it from hobby status? But what if I'm writing something that's not designed to make money? You know, like a blog. Or something that I wish would make money but doesn't sell. Does that make me a hobbyist or just a failure?

And how about people who call themselves "buffs" or "aficionados"? At what point does someone go from simply having a hobby of going to see foreign films to becoming a film buff? Is there some particular moment in a person's life when they wake up and realize they have achieved buff status? It reminds me of George Costanza from Seinfeld when he once lamented that he'd like to be a Civil War buff, but he had no concept how to go about it. As it so often happens, George speaks for a whole generation of people, including me.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest, it's time to put on my sweatpants and kick back to watch a TV show about nothing.

Too clueless to order coffee

I hate feeling like an idiot just because I want a cup of coffee, but somehow that's exactly what happens every time I go to a coffee shop. I don't go out for coffee very often, and on the rare occasions when I do go, I don't always visit the same chain, so whatever one place calls a particular drink, it's sure to have a different name somewhere else.

Today I decided a frozen coffee drink sounded good, so I stopped into a coffee shop. And that's when the odyssey began. My first problem was figuring out which one is the frozen drink. Not just iced coffee, but the frozen one, like a pina colada.

Next, I wanted the lower fat and calorie version. But I've found that if you order some of the fancy drinks at some restaurants, they might not be available in a "light" version because they use a pre-made mix or flavorings or something. The only way to know what's available is to ask, which means you have to get to the front of the line and block the whole procedure for everyone behind you while you quiz the cashier. Since everyone else in line is in that coffee shop at least twice a day, they think you're a moron.

Then, I wanted decaf, but again not all drinks at all restaurants are available in decaf because of the pre-made mix situation. So you have to ask again.

Today, the coffee shop I was in was busy, so I decided to make things easy for everyone. I got to the front of the line and proudly said (without having to ask any questions), "Light Frappuccino, decaf, medium." I figured that covered it, right?

The cashier said, "What kind?'

That stumped me. I thought I'd made it clear. So I tried again. "Light Frappuccino. Decaf. Medium."

"What kind?" he asked again.

Huh? So I started throwing the words at him again, hoping to hit on the one that would satisfy him.

"Decaf."

"Medium."

"Light, you know, with skim milk."

"Frappuccino. That's the frozen one, right?"

The whole time this is going on, I'm searching the menu board, hoping for some clue as to what he wants. No help there.

When he asked "What kind?" again, I looked away from the menu and just stared at him. I was out of ideas; I had nothing.

He clarified. "What kind? Caramel? Mocha?'

Ahah! "No, just plain," I said.

"Plain? Coffee flavor?" he asked.

I had thought that was self-evident. If I had wanted something besides coffee flavor, wouldn't I have asked? Ironically, I had specifically attempted to order plain coffee flavor because I thought that would be easiest. I didn't have to ask if caramel or mocha or coconut or whatever was available in decaf or light or any other specialty. But instead of trying to explain this to the cashier, I just said, "Yes, plain coffee flavor."

So despite my best intentions of not annoying the people in line behind me or irritating the cashier or making every other person in the restaurant think I'd just rolled off a turnip truck, I made a fool of myself in a coffee shop. Again. I can't remember a time when this didn't happen.

After considerable thought, I've figured out how to solve this problem. Coffee shops should have special lines for clueless people who don't go there very often. Maybe the cashiers in those lines could be trained preschool teachers who speak slowly, soothingly, and in small words. Everyone in the line would be prepared for long delays while each customer tries to figure out what's available and what they want and how to read a menu and what "vendi" means. I'd be willing to wait. In fact, I'd probably learn a lot just by being in that line.

BTW: Despite my embarrassment during the ordering process today, my drink was exactly what I wanted. I should write this order down so I can just hand it to the cashier next time I'm there. Of course, with my luck, he won't be able to read my writing and wackiness will ensue anyway.

Work clothes

As I write this, I'm watching a DVR of "So You Think You Can Dance." It's the results show where they decide who's going to be voted off for the week, and I've just noticed that everyone's dressed strangely. Like in loose pants and leotard-sort of things. Then it occurs to me that they all have to be ready to dance in case they're among the 3 couples who got the lowest vote totals. Duh! These people dance for a living, so they have to be dressed to dance.

This is the first season that I've watched the show, and I'm used to results shows for American Idol where everyone dresses up. After all, they're singers so I guess they can wear whatever as long as it doesn't keep them from breathing.

This made me think about work clothes for other jobs. These dancers look pretty comfortable, as long as they don't mind showing some skin on TV. But uncomfortable, impractical, or just plain ugly clothes can make the time spent at work so unpleasant. When I was in high school, I worked for a huge fast food chain. This was years ago when the uniforms were made out of 100% stretchy, nasty polyester and there were stupid little hats. Sure, the work itself was hard and I made minimum wage ($3.35 an hour, seriously), but wearing that goofy outfit made my job so much worse. I mean, just because you're at work, do you need to be uncomfortable and look like a goon?

I heartily approve of improvements in work clothes. Like nurses today often wear comfy scrubs rather than those starched white uniforms from decades ago. And how working in a lot of modern offices no longer means business suits and high heels.

I have two jobs, both of which feature good clothes. My day job is teaching at a college. I pretty much wear what I like there as long as I don't look like I just crawled out from under a Dumpster. And as for writing, the wardrobe is the best! Pajamas, sweats, jeans, underwear: anything goes because a lot of writers work in the privacy of their own homes. Sometimes I attend writing events like book signings or conferences, in which case I dress up a bit to show respect for the readers and other writers and the event's hosts. Plus it's fun to choose outfits that are a little different and creative for those events. It's an excuse to look like an artist.

When I was in school, I never really thought about choosing a career where I could wear clothes I'd like, but fortunately it worked out that way. Actually if I had been thinking along those lines, then when I was very young I probably would have pursued "princess" or "bridal gown model" as career options. So maybe it's a good thing that I didn't realize at the time how important work clothes would be.