We Interrupt This Program…

Yesterday I was thinking about The Brady Bunch. Yes, the iconic 70’s television series that will never die. For some reason, I was thinking about all those quizzes on Facebook and I thought, “Which Brady kid am I?” My answer was Jan.  Like Jan, I was the smart and funny one, never quite sure of her place in life and always feeling a little like the one that no one noticed, even though everybody did.

The best “Jan” episode was “The New Jan Brady”, the one where blonde Jan decides she’d rather be a brunette to distinguish herself from her other blonde sisters. She purchases this hideous (even for the 70’s) brunette beehive wig and goes to her friend’s party, where everyone laughs and mocks her new look. She runs home in tears only to have brother Peter come home with all the party guests to tell Jan she looked better as a blonde. (Apparently, they thought the wig was some kind of weird joke.) Jan happily goes back to the party and lives in apparent anonymity until she is once again thrust into middle-daughter crisis. (Stay with me, it’s going to get interesting.)

So I was thinking about all this when my dark and twisty* inner writer took hold of it. What if there were a remake of the show? Not the awful where-are-they-now “The Bradys” show. (Now that was a hot mess. Marcia was an alcoholic with a frequently out of work hubby; Jan was infertile and she and hubby adopted a little Korean girl; Cindy was having an affair with her boss; Bobby was a paraplegic after crashing his race car; Peter was a playboy who couldn’t settle down. Only eldest son Greg managed to have a fairly normal non-neurosis life.)

No, my dark and twisty inner writer wanted a remake of the teenage Brady Bunch. (I promise you “90210” – in any form – was not the Brady Bunch reincarnated.) So this is my proposed pilot for the 21^st century Brady Bunch.

Cue music… Here’s the story, of a lovely lady…

Our story is narrated by Alice, the house manager of the Bradys. She is the repository of all the Brady secrets. Alice knows everything but not everyone knows just how much Alice really knows.

Alice knows widower Mike Brady met divorcee Carol Phillips online. They met, married, and brought their respective families into the Brady mansion. Mike is a very successful businessman with large corporate holdings. He’s not above bending (or possibly breaking) the law to get what he wants. There’s been talk that the first Mrs. Brady died under suspicious circumstances. But Mike Brady has enough money and power that no one is willing to investigate.

Carol Phillips-Brady has been married several times and each time, she’s come out exponentially richer. She’s also a functioning alcoholic. She and Mike look good together, but it’s clear that it’s also an act, especially since Carol is lusting after the pool boy. Problem is Mike may be lusting after the pool boy too.

Eldest son Greg is a high school athlete. His dirty secret? He’s on steroids. Anything to be the BMOC and please Papa Brady.

Eldest daughter Marcia is pregnant. She’s not sure if the baby’s father is her secret boyfriend Darnell (who’s Black or Latin) – or her stepbrother Greg. She’s also not sure of what she’s going to do about the pregnancy.

Middle son Peter has a very nasty habit. He’s into online poker in a big way. So far he’s been able to pay off his debts by tapping into his trust fund left to him by his late mother. But he’s getting in way over his head and finding out that his debts are about to be collected – maybe at the expense of brother Greg’s career.

Middle daughter Jan is a straight-A student who puts enormous pressure on herself to break out of the shadow of her elder sister. She’s bulimic and a shopaholic. She uses her money to buy companionship and has trouble distinguishing who her real friends are.

Baby girl Cindy has daddy issues. She’s been sleeping around with much older men. It started when a much older man slept with her when she was much, much younger. Her father? One of her other stepfathers? She’s currently involved with newest stepfather Mike’s best friend. But Mike’s best friend has plans for Cindy – and they’re definitely not nice.

Youngest son Bobby has mommy issues. He wants to know what really happened to his mother on the night she died. He’s been quietly hacking into his father’s computer and learning just how ruthless his dear old dad can be. The secrets he uncovers could take down the Brady family for good – or cost him his life.

So that’s my take on a revamped Brady Bunch. What do you think? Sherwood Schwartz would probably keel over if this ever went on the air.

One day I’m going to do dark and twisty Dora the Explorer. At the very least, it would make a good SNL sketch.

*Yes, I know I stole “dark and twisty” from Shonda Rhimes and Grey’s Anatomy.

Write and Wrong – Part 2

To recap: At a book signing last Saturday with author Bettye Griffin, a young man asked for writing advice. His statement to us, “I don’t want to be known as an African American writer,” had us laughing out loud. Bettye responded, “We’re laughing because we know what the real deal is.”

Bettye began to explain to the young man that the deal is once your work is bought by the publisher, you have no control on cover design, how it’s marketed and where it’s placed (if at all) in bookstores. Borders segregates because of customer feedback. And if you sign up with a AA imprint, if the bookstore buys your book, they will put you in the same category as all AA literature, fiction and non-fiction.

I also explained to the young man that while what he may see on the surface in the AA section is so much – I’ll use the word nonsense, there’s a great deal to be read in that section. Because it’s all lumped together by the color of the author’s skin, he wasn’t aware that there was more than just urban lit and erotica. Thrown in were mysteries, horror, Christian/inspirational, literary, historical, romance, women’s fiction and mainstream just to name a few.  But because the stuff that was turned out featured – I’ll say again, nonsense covers (this side of porn), he just assumed that all that was there was of lesser quality. (I didn’t even get into a discussion of the quality of the writing in street/urban lit and erotica, as I’ve never read them and have no basis to make a judgment, though I am really disgusted by those covers.)

The young man rightfully said that by dumping the works of AA writers into one section you can potentially limit your revenue stream. We agreed on that point, but also said that it was up to the author to promote and market the book to a broader audience.

I explained to the young man that as a fledgling screenwriter/novelist, it was next to impossible to control who gets your work and what they do with it. However, I pointed out to him that he should look at Tyler Perry as a role model. Perry, who was homeless before his first play took off, now has his own studio in Atlanta. Everything he does – from writing to directing, casting, marketing, etc. – is controlled by him. And as everyone knows, he’s frustrating the heck out of Hollywood. They have seen Perry’s success and they want their piece of it. Unfortunately for them, Lionsgate was the only studio that was willing to take a chance on him and they are riding high on Perry’s box office and television successes.

By the time he left, I think he had a little more understanding about what was ahead of him. He still has a lot to learn and I hope he doesn’t give up.

As I’m new to the publishing industry, I know I still have so much to learn. But learn I will. And I won’t stop until I get to the top.

Write and Wrong – Part 1

So, this past weekend, I was privileged to join author Bettye Griffin at a book signing at the Borders in Matteson, IL. (Bettye’s new book, “A New Kind of Bliss” was released last week.) In addition to purchasing several copies of her books (including a few as Mother’s Day gifts), I assisted Bettye by putting “Autographed Copy” stickers on her signed books and updating her display. I also tried to draw in potential customers doing my best carny imitation. (“Hey c’mon, meet the author, buy a book!” One lady actually did, so that was cool.)

Later, Bettye and I cruised Borders (she for some music, me to do some rearranging of displays in the AA section, but that’s another story) and then headed for lunch at Panera. Bettye is one of the warmest, most generous people that I have met. Besides being a great author, she’s also one of the most gracious, offering words of advice and encouragement when asked.

Which leads to my thoughts on an encounter we had with a young man while at Borders. The man was obviously impressed with meeting a real author in person and proceeded to ask her a question about acquiring an agent. Bettye gave him some excellent advice and I directed him to several books in the reference section that would help him. He told me that he was in school and wanted to write screenplays and novels. It was clear that he was just starting out as he had never heard of any of the resources I pointed out to him, including The Writer’s Market.

I went back to Bettye to continue my hawking and the young man came back. He asked Bettye about her writing career, the types of books she wrote, how much she got for royalties. Bettye, gracious as always, answered each question (though she clearly didn’t talk specifics on money). At some point, we got into the issue of publishing and book placement. The young man said, “I don’t want to be known as an African American author.” (Did I mention he was African American?) Bettye and I laughed. Then he turned and gestured towards the AA section and said, “I’ve seen the stuff over there and the quality isn’t that great. That’s not what I want to write.” Bettye and I laughed again (me more so to keep from knocking him upside his head). Again, Bettye graciously explained why we were laughing. “We’re laughing because we know what the real deal is.”

I’ll explain the “real deal” in the next post.

Paging Dr. Greene, Dr. Ross, Dr. Benton…

In 1994, the television world was abuzz with two new medical dramas debuting in the fall. One boasted a stellar cast; the other, relative unknowns. The two shows couldn’t be more different if they tried. The only things they had in common were they were both set in Chicago and were going to air on Thursday nights at 9:00 p.m. Who would prevail? The first show premiered on a Sunday night; the second show premiered on Monday for two hours. The real test came the following Thursday night.

“Chicago Hope” lasted 6 seasons. “ER” is wrapping up it’s fifteenth and final season.

Why did “ER” become such a juggernaut, trouncing “Hope” in the ratings? It had a lot to do with the writing and the pace of the show. “Chicago Hope” spent a lot of time on the egos of its doctors and the cases they were treating. (Mandy Patinkin’s Dr. Jeffrey Geiger was a prelude to Dr. House.)

“ER” on the other hand had a fairly gritty realism (much the way Hill Street Blues operated, no pun intended). These were young doctors and nurses who never knew what would come crashing through the doors at any minute. They didn’t have time to indulge in egos (well, Peter Benton did, but he was a surgeon, so…); there was only time to deal with what was in front of them.

I watched both shows. (“Hope” eventually moved to Monday nights.) I really liked “CH”, but it lost a step when Patinkin left. The most moving episode was when Peter MacNicol’s character (the hospital lawyer, nicknamed “The Snake”) was killed. The tribute the staff did (and the set up for Patinkin’s departure) was wonderful and was actually recreated in part by the ER cast after Mekhi Phifer’s Dr. Pratt was also killed off.

Speaking of Dr. Pratt, I can’t remember the last time I cried so hard at an ER episode. When Dr. Greene died, it was anti-climatic because everyone knew he was dying and Anthony Edwards was leaving the show. But Pratt’s death was so hard because I had no idea he was leaving. It was as shocking as Dr. Gallant’s tragic death in Iraq. (And yo, why did all the black male doctors get killed off? Pratt, Gallant, Omar Epps’ character? Only Benton survived. Life was hard in the ER, then you die?)

The women had it rough too. They didn’t die – except for Kellie Martin’s Lucy Knight – but they got shot, got AIDS, got pregnant, got raped, got gay, got widowed, etc. You name it – the women docs got it.

“ER” has had it’s peaks and valleys over the years. The peaks included the first season’s episodes “Blizzard” and the award-winning “Love’s Labor Lost.” “Blizzard” is what sealed the deal for me. When you see how quickly the staff turns from frivolity to dead serious in preparation for the incoming casualties after a major traffic collision and the ensuing chaos, you get what the heart of ER is all about. (It is my singularly favorite ER ep of all time.) And as for “Love’s Labor Lost”? I distinctly remember watching that episode and holding my breath for about 30 minutes. I didn’t die of hypoxia obviously, but I swear I didn’t think I was breathing through each part of the episode until the commercial break.

The valley years for me came at the expense of Goran Visnjic’s Dr. Luka Kovac. Initially brought in as the stud factor replacement for future Oscar-winner George Clooney, Kovac was a sympathetic guy but turned into a complete jackass. During this period, I dropped off ER’s radar, tuning in occasionally when Carter went to Africa and Kovac finally came to his senses.

ER had a really interesting habit of bringing in characters that you couldn’t stand but eventually grew to love. That included, Benton, Kerry Weaver, Rocket Romano, Greg Pratt, Jing-Mae (Deb) Chen, Archie Morris and Angela Bassett’s Dr. Cate Banfield. But now everyone is so likeable. While that’s good, there’s no one around to really push the newbies. Banfield tries, but they (the writers) can’t decide what they want her to be. And it’s too late to find out. The best thing about Romano, Weaver, et al, is that that pushed and pushed the good guys until they pushed back. It always made for good conflict.

And on a side note, it took fifteen years to get a powerhouse like Angela Bassett to come in a run the ER? Kerry Weaver has been gone for years and Kovac left a few years ago. Why didn’t they bring her in then? She would have been good for the cast and the ER staff. And we would have time to really get to know and care about Cate Banfield. Now, she’s just another person walking around and barking orders. You just want her to stop it. Okay maybe I do. But they tried to humanize her but it’s too much too fast. Or should I say, too little, too late. (I could say the same for Laurence Fishburne on CSI, but that’s another rant.)

Well, there are only two eps left. This has been a great season for ER, bringing back most of our favorites. (Yeah, even Dr. Greene, though that was the weakest of the comebacks.) I found it absolutely hilarious seeing Dr. Ross and Carol Hathaway again in the same ep with Carter and Benton (who immediately resumed their weird brotherly relationship) but the four of them never connecting with eath other. I wanted to scream, “Pick up a phone for crap’s sake!” You’d think after all they went through, these folks would have tried to stay in touch.

Okay, they’re not real. I know that. But ER has been a part of my life for fifteen years. I know the characters and their stories (obviously). And come April 2, I will join with millions of others in saying goodbye to a show that has seen me through singlehood, dating, marriage and the birth of my child, several jobs and other good and bad events in my life.

Thursdays at 9 will never be the same.

Ramblings and Ruminations

I had a radio interview scheduled last week and I was very excited, as it was my first. The time came for me to go on the air – then nothing. Dead silence. Seems that system that hosted the show crashed. Ah well, these things happen. I was annoyed, but I got over it. I know the show host and she’s a lovely woman who was mortified at the turn of events. Hopefully, I’ll get rescheduled soon and all will be well.

On the upside, I heard from my publisher that my novel got picked up by a new book club as it’s book of the month in June! Woo-hoo! I have to give props for my publisher, Brian W. Smith at Hollygrove Publishing. The man is a hustler – and I mean in a good way! He’s been doing everything he can to push my book out there. One of his strategies is cutting the price of the book so it’s more affordable in this economic climate. He’s taking a hit out of his own pocket to make sure that I and other authors in the HG family get out there. I don’t know of any other publisher willing to take that chance. Way to go, Brian!

Last week, I was forced to watch some of my talented colleagues and friends be let go by our company. It was not easy situation for anyone involved. Having been on the receiving end of such news, I know how devastating it is to have your world shot to hell in one moment. It’s even tougher because of the economy. But I know these people will land on their feet quickly. I’m proud of the way they have handled themselves with grace and dignity. I’m equally proud to have worked with them and call them friends. I’m also very grateful to still be employed. Though I often dream of being a stay-at-home mom/full-time writer, the reality is that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. But the minute Oprah comes calling, look out!

I have one child that I love to death, but he is a handful. My hubby and I often joke about what we would have done had he been twins or triplets. I still want another child, and I realize that it would impact our financial status in a big way. Which brings me to my next point:

Nadya “Octo-mom” Suleman brought the first two of her octuplets home to a media circus. As much I was first fascinated then angered by this woman’s choices, I have to admit that my thinking about the situation has changed, thanks to Dr. Phil. No, I haven’t spoken to the man, but I read he gave Suleman an on-air baby shower. To quote him, I thought, “What were YOU thinking?” That’s when my thinking changed.

It’s about the children.

Regardless of how I feel about the choices this woman made, it’s her kids that I’m concerned about. None of them asked to be born, especially not to her. But they are here and they need help. They’re the ones who will have to live with her decisions, the media circus and the teasing that will surely follow them for a long time to come. They need food, shelter, clothing. Some of them need special educational help. All of the octuplets will need additional medical care for a long time. And while I don’t personally plan to contribute to her cause, I respect her need to raise money in whatever way she can to support her children.

Despite all of this, I hope Suleman truly loves her children and do what’s best for them. And I hope the vultures will give her the space to try.

Finally, I’m just going to say to all those who hate the new Facebook – either stop complaining or quit using it. Hey, here’s a thought: if everyone who hates the new Facebook stops using it, maybe it’ll convince the owners to go back!

Yeah, right, like that’ll happen. If the owners were smart, they’d do like Yahoo did and give the members the choice of which layout they prefer. With so much backlash against the new format, it would be unwise for them to not listen to their consumers.

Oh wait. That’s exactly what AIG did.

Zippity Doo-Dah!

I’ve been a Disney movie fan all my life. Though I haven’t seen all their animated movies, I think they’re as good – if not better – than most of the live action flicks being produced. (At least I know when I go, I won’t be mad when the movie is done.) I distinctly remember going to see “Aladdin” with some college girlfriends one Friday night. And when “The Little Mermaid” came out, I went with a roommate and came out singing and dancing to “Under the Sea,” even if I couldn’t remember all the lyrics.

Yet, something troubled me. In all their movies, I rarely saw African-Americans as a main character.

Some would argue that “Lion King” would counter that. Although I love the movie, I have two problems with it: first, with James Earl Jones and the late Madge Sinclair voicing Simba’s parents, why couldn’t they find a suitable black actor to voice Simba? (This isn’t a slam against Jonathan Taylor Thomas or Matthew Broderick who respectively voiced young and adult Simba.) Second, why would the first “black” animated film have to be featuring animals?

I was waiting for the first black HUMAN film.

To be fair, Disney made some terrific strides in their television department. Tia and Tamera Mowery, Raven-Symone, Corbin Bleu and Kyle Massey have had films and shows centering around them. (My son is a huge fan of Corbin Bleu and Jump In.) But still, no black animated theatrical films. Zut alors!

But hold on a minute…

Every so quietly, Disney announced a new addition to their ever popular Princess line.

Wait, wait…

Wait for it…

She’s African-American! And she’s Disney FIRST AMERICAN princess!  (There are those that argue that Pocahantas was the first American princess, but though she’s in the Princess line, she wasn’t a princess, she was a heroine like Mulan.)

Yes, ladies and gents, Disney got off it’s butt and created a brand-spankin’ new princess – Princess Tiana – in a new movie, The Princess and the Frog.It’s due out during this year’s holiday season and along with the requisite movie marketing, there will be a doll (created to look more “realistic”) and all the tchotckes that Disney can crank out. The film stars Tony award-winner Anika Noni Rose (Dreamgirls), Terrence Howard and Oprah Winfrey. (And no, I don’t think she produced it.)

Yes, I will be going to see the film, even if I have to go by myself, though I have enough cousins and nieces that I can drag along with me. And yes, I will be buying a doll for myself.

As thrilled as I am about this news, I’m curious about the lack of publicity surrounding this. If I hadn’t seen the announcement about the doll on Entertainment Tonight, I wouldn’t have known it was happening at all. Maybe when the movie comes out, there will be a bigger hype.

But the real thrill will be seeing girls of all colors lining up at the Disney store demanding all the Princess Tiana merchandise they can sell and the film being a box office smash.

Then I’ll be able sing, “My, oh my, what a wonderful day.”

The Oscars – from the cheap seats

I watched the Oscars last night because there was nothing else better to watch. And I wanted to see Hugh Jackman. I thought he was brilliant and funny. And totally hot. That’s beside the point.

Here are my observations on the good, the bad and the ugly from last night’s telecast:

Hugh Jackman is a very talented person. And far funnier than any other previous Oscar host, except for Billy Crystal and Whoopi Goldberg. Now if they really want to be daring, they need Robin Williams up there. There would need to be a 40-second delay.

I liked the former winners of Oscars in the acting categories coming out and giving tribute to the nominees. The women seemed genuinely touched by (what seemed to be) heartfelt remarks. And then being inducted into “the club” was a great idea.

Segue: Speaking of Whoopi, what the *$()@ was she wearing? Did she just run over to Joann Fabrics and grab something out of the clearance bin and wrap it around herself? She’d have been better coming in jeans or a nice pantsuit. I’ve seen Whoopi dress much better. That was just sad.

Sarah Jessica Parker is auditioning for the Samantha role in the next “SITC” movie. She has to be. Her boobs haven’t been that big since she was breastfeeding. And if she coughed, the Oscars would have had it’s own “wardrobe malfunction.”

Will Smith is a funny guy. But even he couldn’t make those presentations work for something or other.

That little movie in the middle: maybe it’s me, but I don’t get the humor of Seth Rogen and Judd Apatow. Maybe because I’m over the age of 12.

The dance number in the middle: Seriously. Beyonce? GROAN… May it be the last time I hear her sing “At Last.” A friend commented on Facebook that musicals are back as long as Beyonce is in them. Yeah, and no acting is required. And Zach Efron has a great career ahead of him in musical theater and films. His HSM/real-life girlfriend Vanessa Hudgens? Not so much. And that couple from “Mamma Mia” couldn’t even keep up with the track. Pitiful. The weird drumline/hip-hop movies in the middle didn’t work. They were good, but were very strange with everyone dressed from something out of the 1940s. Should have had the HSM cast come out in uniforms. If they really wanted to liven up the Oscars, they should have had Kenny Ortega choreograph that number. That would have been fun.

Cuba Gooding Jr.’s line to Robert Downey Jr. was hilarious. “Quit takin’ the work from the brothas!” Here! Here! “His next role is prinicipal of photography on ‘Shaft.’” RDJ got the joke. Everyone else didn’t.

Those 2008 movie montages? There were about 2.5 seconds of African-Americans in film. Yeah, cuz we weren’t in any of the movies made in 2008 except for say 2.5 seconds from the one Tyler Perry movie that no one saw.

Reese Witherspoon: It’s not nice to imitate the Queen. She wore that dress and she wore it better. Deal with that.

Speaking of the Queen: Ms. Dana Owens made my night. I love the “In Memoriam” section. Her beautiful solo of “I’ll Be Seeing You” masked the awkward instrumental music/awkward applause sections of those who are less known in the community. Whoever put together this montage got it right. By the time the song had reached its final crescendo, the applause had been building right up until Paul Newman’s face graced the stage one last time. It ended on a high note of celebration, even as his words were the last spoken and the spotlight on the stage showed us that someone was missing among us.

Maybe it was me, but I honestly was not moved by Heath Ledger’s family’s acceptance. It was a foregone conclusion. If he’d won last year and they’d have come to accept it, it would have been much more emotional for me. But by now, with all the talk of his estate and who gets the statue, it just was overdone.

On the other hand, Kate Winslet’s speech was so great and full of emotion. Let’s hear it for Dad who whistled so she could find him in the darkened theater to thank him (and the rest of the family) properly!

The guy who balanced the Oscar on his chin? Priceless!

“Domo Origato, Mr. Roboto.” Best acceptance speech. Because I couldn’t understand a word you were saying up to that point.

Sofia Loren may have looked good, but her speech was so boring. For someone who won an acting Oscar, she couldn’t have pulled that speech off if she had a gun to her head. Julia Roberts would have made it work. Shirley Maclaine’s speech to Anne Hathaway nearly had me in tears. Halle looked fabulous (in an almost repeat of her Oscar win dress) but will someone tell Nicole that she needs more color in her face or in her dress?

I’m glad Peter Gabriel didn’t come. John Legend is much more worthy of my time. And he’s gorgeous. I’ve never heard any of the best song nominees, but Legend and the guy singing Jai Ho together was beautiful. And so were the dancers and background singers. I think it was an African Gospel Choir. (I could have sworn a couple of the HSM songs were nominated. They should have been.)

There have been 4 black men who have won the Best Actor Oscars. You mean to tell me that Denzel Washington, Jamie Foxx, Forest Whitaker and Sidney Poitier were all busy that night? None of them could have graced the stage with DeNiro, Hopkins & Michael Douglas? Adrian Brody? Other than kissing Halle Berry, what else has he done? Would you even remember him if it were not for that kiss? You managed to get Whoopi, Cuba and Halle up there, but not one of them could make it. That was insulting.

Slumdog Millionaire. The first and last time I will ever say those two words. Ever. Again.

Drunk with the wine of the world

I went with my hubby to the store to pick up a prescription and a few groceries. Imagine my disgust when at the door there was a poster: “Celebrate Black History Month!” followed by a tasting for a certain beer brand’s new flavor.  (I won’t call out the brand or the store, though part of me thinks I should.)

I’m not against advertising. (I used to work at an ad agency and I loved it.) I’m not against companies using their advertising  campaigns to tie with a significant event on the calendar.

What disgusts – no, angers -  me is the use of this brand to exploit what Black History Month is supposed to mean for it’s profit. Black History Month was created to celebrate the achievements and history of Black Americans. Alcohol does nothing but bring Black Americans down, creating our own little slavery. This beer company wasn’t trying to use this campaign to promote black achievement or even provide scholarship or business opportunities. No, this campaign was designed to say, “Hey black people! Get yo drank on! Get down and party with us, ‘cuz this is YO month! Nevermind that alcoholism in your community is a predominant force behind homelessness, abuse, and criminal activity. You should be celebratin’!”

Sadly, no one has spoken out about this. Not even me, except for now. It’s just business as usual in our community.

Yeah, this was a month-long campaign. Next month we celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, which is known for all its alcoholic imbibing. I can’t wait to see if this same store and same beer company do a month-long celebration in our community.

RIP: Clint & Asa

Yesterday, I learned that actor Clint Ritchie, the original (and best) Clint on “One Life to Live” died on January 29. Today I learned that Phil Carey, the one and only Asa,  also passed away.

Besides being two fine actors, they played the most unique characters on soap operas: they were cowboys. And despite the fact that they were business moguls and titans, when it came down to it, they never stopped being cowboys.

So RIP Clint and Phil. Ride on into the sunset. We’ll miss ya.

What I Love About Writing

I’m a procrastinator – not the best trait for someone who aspires to write full-time. I often put off writing until the very last minute. I did it all through college. As it happened, some of my best papers were done under deadline. It’s as though the fear of missing the deadline freed me from all the constraints of my inner critic/editor and the words just came pouring out.

The same thing happened this weekend.

For some reason, I had been stalling on the short story that I had to create for an anthology that I’m contributing to. I kept saying I was working on it, but I always found other more interesting things to do, such as reading blogs or writing on my own blog (yeah, right) or hanging out on Facebook. (That’s an entirely different post for another time.)

Finally I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had a week before my deadline, so I hunkered down to the computer and began typing the story that had been causing me to lose sleep.

Then a funny thing happened.

Without any notes, the story began pouring out of me. But the more I wrote, the story began moving in an entirely different direction. You see, just before I sat down, I prayed and asked the Lord to give me the words and to allow someone to be touched by the story for his glory.

And he did just that.

I’m about halfway done but I’m not worried anymore. I know where the story is going and I’m confident I’ll make my deadline.

But just as important, my inner critic has been silenced and the voice that gives me the words to write is loud and clear.

I remembered what I love about writing – writing.