Thursday, November 20, 2008

Writing Soundtracks

I create itune play list soundtracks for all of my creative writing projects. In my critique groups, I’ve found that other writers do the very same thing. I guess it gets us in the mood – for writing, that is. Every fall, without fail, I return to classical music. This year I segued into my mellow mode with jazz and John Legend. But by November, I always end up back with my familiar Baroque favorites.

It started innocently enough with a little Bach in college. Then, Victoria’s Secret came out with a classy cassette (yes, I'm ancient) in the early 90s and I was addicted to the sexiness of the sound - lingerie for the ears. It took an honored spot on my rotation, which at the time also included Guns–n-Roses. Ever since, classical music has had a play list in my heart.

Maybe I enjoy classical music in the fall because it’s time-honored and traditional like the coming holidays. Who knows? Soon enough, though, I’ll be back to bellowing “No Sleep Till Brooklyn.” (Badly, I might add.)

Tuesday, November 11, 2008


A deer crashed through a window at QVC and made it all the way down a long corridor to the studio entrance. They're looking for me. I’m a marked woman. Thank God I was off that day.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Curse of the Dead Deer

Ever since the accident, I've been under the curse of the dead deer. It's some seriously bad mojo. First, I find out someone used my identity to open a cell phone account. It showed up on my credit report as a big negative. (Note to readers: check your credit often.) I filed a police report and have completed a small forest of paperwork.

Next, my hard drive dies. No worries, though. I back up twice a day, everyday. I check it and all my folders are there. There’s just one problem. My backup utility was corrupted from the get go and all those folders are empty. Everyday for years, I backed up a whole lot of nothing. It was then I realized I have no hard copies of my novel, scripts and all my other writing. I had just purged all the paper and intended on printing out copies of the latest versions. All the digital photos and music I’d never taken the time to copy to disc were lost.

I stood in the service area of Mac Outfitters three days in a row begging for heroic measures. My computer flat lined and they said there were no signs of life. After “there’s one last thing we can try,” Saint Andrew of Apple managed to salvage the bulk of my data. God bless him. I would have given him a kidney or my firstborn, but he settled for tears of gratitude and a small fee. (Note to self and readers: Back up seven ways to Sunday NOW. This blog will be here when you get back.) BTW, If you don’t hear from me, it’s because I lost your contact information. Please email!

So, it should be over, right? No, it’s a terrible trifecta! I wake up in the middle of the night to find that every stress-related illness I’ve ever endured has overtaken me. I’ll spare you the gory details, but the Hunchback of Notre Dame wouldn’t be seen with me right now.

According to the psychic, I should surround my car with white light to undo the bad "car"ma. How does one do that? Do I go to the Mall at night and park between two lampposts? Hmm.