Plotting Me

Turning the page

2009-07-12T15:19:00.004-04:00

In order to turn a page, there must be pages to turn, right?

I'll be the first to admit that my writing productivity took a major nosedive when my household went wireless. Not only did dial up keep me tied to a phone line, it kept me off the internet as a result. Maybe you remember those days when going online was a major expedition.

When I knew that checking my email was going to be a 20-minute undertaking between dialing up and logging in, I set aside a designated time period to do this and was much more organized in my approach. I'd dial in. Wait. Log in. Wait. Read. Respond. And get off line. If I didn't, I was bound to miss a phone call.

Even after I installed some kind of modem monitor software to tell me when a call was coming so that I could get off line, I still stuck to my system unless the incoming call seemed to be urgent. Once I dialed in, hopping on and off line was just too much trouble.

Once I'd finished my 30-60 minute email check and quick surf, it was back to writing. How many of us can say that we only spend, let's say, 45 minutes attached to our internet? Yes, well, like I said, it's affected my productivity.

So, today is the first day of my new writing plan. I've compartmentalized my writing duties, separating the creative, from the social, administrative and promotional. Sunday eve through Friday eve is now reserved for developing manuscripts. I'll check my email, but no surfing (unless it's book research), no social networking, no non-urgent marketing. Friday night through Sunday eve gets to be Facebook, MySpace, Twitter time. That's also when I'll craft blogs, update my web site and tend to my promotional and author admin.

For me, the best way to attack this new separation of duties is through my writing journal. I already set aside a page for goals each month, I'll now add a page for web site updates, and promotional to-do's. So instead of spending chunks of time doing each of these items every night, I'll condense them into the weekends. Just as I can't be all things to all people, my time can't effectively serve all my needs all at once.

Here's to change!

Things I'll remember about Michael Jackson

2009-07-09T22:01:00.008-04:00

What are those four stages of grief? Denial. (Are you serious?) check. Anger. (How could this happen?) check. Depression (What a tragic loss.) check. Acceptance. (What can I learn from this?) check.

So, as I move on, I just thought that for the sake of posterity, I'd focus today's Thursday 13 post on things I'll remember about Michael Jackson:

1) Very carefully writing the lyrics to I'll Be There on that thick-ruled primary manuscript paper in a love note to SH in second grade. (He never got it, of course, because I had one of those mothers who went through all my stuff every day. She found the note and that was that.)

2) Bringing my parents' brand new 45 of the Jackson's Dancing Machine to class in sixth grade. For one day I wasn't the too-tall goodie-two-shoes who talked "proper." I was the inspiration for an impromptu Soul Train line in the middle of the room. Being in good with the teacher has its perks. ;)

3) Cutting an ABC 45 off the back of a cereal box to play on my red Close and Play record player.

4) Wanting to marry Michael Jackson.

5) Teen magazines that always pitted the Jackson 5 against the Osmonds. So no contest. . .

6) College skate parties with PYT in the background.

7) Watching Michael moonwalk during his Billie Jean performance on that Motown 25th anniversary show.

8) Standing around waiting for the airing of Thriller on MTV. (Then, as a former dancer, trying desperately over the years to learn the steps to Thriller, Beat It, Billie Jean, Smooth Criminal, The Way You Make Me Feel, et. al.)

9) Standing in line very pregnant, for three hours, outside a downtown Detroit AAA office to purchase tickets to see Michael Jackson at the Palace of Auburn Hills during the Pepsi tour.

10) Buying a copy of the Off the Wall CD to replace the album upstairs in my bedroom.

11) Wondering why on earth he picked that Rowe girl over me. ???? LOL

12) Playing Jackson 5 and Michael Jackson CDs in the car so often that all three of my kids (who span 13 years) know the words to his songs. He is as present-day to them as any of their current (and, yes, temporary) fave "artists."

13) Making sure to buy a copy of Ebony magazine's collector's edition tribute to Michael in honor of Thriller's 25th anniversary.

Not believing he'd died when I heard the news and read the ticker across the bottom of CNN, but coming to accept the magnitude of the loss in the days and weeks that followed. I feel proud to understand why he meant what he did to music and the world. Honored that I was along for the ride.

What if Michael had written the book?

2009-06-30T18:44:00.001-04:00

Once upon a time, I was a staff writer and editor for Detroit's Michigan Chronicle. And during those days, LaToya Jackson penned a book called, "Growing Up in the Jackson Family." This was during the days when she was struggling for stardom and Michael's star seemed to be fading into absurdity. The book alleged that she and her siblings were abused by their father Joe and people decried her as a liar. My thoughts on the topic were a little bit different. The following is a re-print of that editorial. What do you think?
--------------------------------------------------

What if Michael had written the book?
By Stefanie P. Worth
Re-printed with permission of the Michigan Chronicle

I have been a fan of Michael Jackson’s since the Five’s first days. I can recall penning the words of “I’ll Be There” on primary ruled paper to Sterling Harris, my second grade crush. Years later I continued to follow the successes and supposed doings of the Jackson clan.

From Janet on “Good Times” to Randy’s near-crippling auto accident to Rebbie’s single solo success and Janet's climb to rival Michael’s stardom. I watched as the brothers six went their separate ways — Jermaine’s lukewarm fame, Jackie’s violent breakup with his wife and Michael’s downward spiral into eccentricity.

Eccentricity? At 30? Why would the boy who had everything go weird? Doing so made him favorite tabloid fodder of the ‘80s — feeding our human morbid curiosity, drawing speculation into what happened along the way to make him become as odd as he has. Sad to say, despite his unquestionable musical genius, the “thriller” has been reduced to ridicule in many gossip circles.

Now comes LaToya, on the heels of several failed recording ventures and a scandalous Playboy pictorial with “Growing Up in the Jackson Family,” her novel account of childhood life in the famous brood.

Girlfriend has taken much flack since the release of her book. Though I’m in the process of reading it, I am as yet undecided on the book’s contents. First of all, none of us but the Jacksons grew up as Jacksons. So what really went on behind their four walls we are not privy to say. If LaToya is lying, then as I say, that’s between her and God. But secondly, if there is an iota of truth to what she discloses about the abuse and molestation, then Joe Jackson — rich, powerful, highly-revered and all — needs to have his behind in jail.

I think part of the reason the public outcry has been so against LaToya is that she has not achieved the success her brothers and Janet have — and we all know how long she’s been trying. But people disclose family skeletons all the time, celebrities and everyday folks alike, to the tune of great public empathy. Maya Angelou did it in “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.” Was she scorned for the revelation? Perhaps we have allowed the Jackson mystique to cloud our judgment and render them infallible. Nobody deserves that burden.

News of fallen child stars fill the media these days. These now adult used-to-be’s recall the difficulties they encountered when they were no longer cute and couldn’t find work. Imagine what LaToya and Rebbie must have felt being the only two untalented children in a superstar family. The public is also much more aware of the sleezy side of life in childhood stardom. It’s no more peaches and cream for them than it is for adults trying to make it in the cut throat world of show biz.

One point LaToya emphasizes is their father’s dislike of his oldest son (for whatever reason). Jackie, she says, took the brunt of Joe Jackson’s abuse well into his early 20s. Most of us are familiar with the reports of abuse leveled at Jackie several years ago resulting in the dissolution of his marriage. The divorce was equipped with court-ordered injunctions keeping him away from the wife he battered and their children. Don’t psychologists say that abuse is cyclical? Could there be a link?

Janet’s Jimmy Jam/Terry Lewis-produced “Control” album, and title video were widely touted as being autobiographical — a fact to which she even admits. Remember her marriage to James DeBarge which insiders report was destroyed because her parents disapproved? There are even sadder rumors about the destruction involved floating around DeBarge’s hometown of Flint. Since when is a financially independent 18-year-old still expected to bow to the beck and call of her parents? According to LaToya, when it’s a Jackson.

Then there is my dear, dear Michael. You say you think homeboy has some problems, eh? Animals in the backyard...gloved hand...pinched nose...Bubbles.... Ever stop to wonder what could have pushed him over the edge (if indeed that’s where he’s dangling)? Could Michael’s altered personality be a wealthy version of multiple personality disorder — generally brought on by childhood sexual trauma? Maybe, maybe not.

Well, I didn't grow up with those 11 people anymore than you did, so I, too, can do no more than speculate. But I’ve followed the Jacksons for years and these are not the first allegations of abuse to air about “Papa Joe.” I feel that enough questions have been raised over the years to merit some serious thought. He did for his family what most of us only dream of. But who knows what he did to get there and at whose and what expense.

LaToya alleges that the family abuse was a well-known secret in Motown’s halls. (Much like the now confessed to Ross-Gordy romance that resulted in Diana’s first child). The public has been known to ignore the grim realities of star life to protect images in the past. I’m just saying maybe it happened with the Jacksons, too. I could indeed be wrong, but the fact that LaToya is the family media hound should not overrule the reality that serious crime and sickness could lie beyond that famous doorstep.

Old folks say what’s done in the dark will be brought to the light. So maybe she just hit the switch. I’ll bet that if Michael had penned this tell-all tale he would have been besieged with public sympathy. The masses would exclaim with a sigh of relief, “So that’s what happened.”

Wrapped in life

2009-06-26T12:57:00.006-04:00

Yesterday, I’m watching hour after hour of Michael Jackson news coverage and I’m listening to reporters ask people to sum up their experiences with MJ or thoughts of his music in snappy sound bites. Can you do that for a life like his?

Maybe it’s because I just finished writing the synopsis for my latest novel, that the whole wrap up thing seemed so glaring to me yesterday. I know what my story’s about – all the pieces in the plot, who does what and why. But it’s such a struggle to squeeze 400 pages into two. Yet we do it. In fact, we authors manage to scrunch an entire novel into a single 10-second pitch line that makes the story easy-to-grasp for potential readers.

So, I sit back from the news coverage and get to thinking about my pitch line for life with Michael Jackson and landed on “Got to be There.” From the time I was small, I’ve regarded that tune and its lyrics with starry-eyed wonder. The idea of needing someone’s nearness is not unique; people sing about that stuff all the time. But it’s the way Michael sang it. And beyond the throes of love, “Got To Be There” epitomizes the way I view life as a whole. I hate the thought of missing out on experiences and interactions or opportunities to dream and grow. I want to be here to take it all in.

All of it. Always. As in forever.

Now, we know that isn’t possible, is it? That’s where my deep-seated denial comes in. I shudder when I hear phrases like “tomorrow’s not promised” or “the present is a gift.” I know they are so true, but the implication – well, the reality – is that they mean one day there won’t be a next day. No more phone calls to the kids/grandkids/great-grandkids. No chit-chat with friends and family. No treks to the store or church. No volunteering. No news. No flower garden. No sunshine or rain. Heaven, I do pray, but none of the little things that make this world what it is.

Maybe 50 years from now I’ll be tired and I’ll be ready for thoughts of final rest. But not today. So, this morning when I awoke and confirmed that Michael Jackson really had passed on, I had to wonder if he was ready. Did the King of Pop have a clue yesterday morning that there would be no more music after that day?

I wrote a poem about my grandmother some years ago; about how three days before she died, a cousin said he saw her dancing in the kitchen. Laughing, free, really enjoying herself. Mind you, Grandma Mary was saved and sanctified and she absolutely did not dance. But after we heard that story, we thought maybe she knew death was on its way and she was ready. I compared it to “trying out her wings-to-be.” The idea that she was ready for the trip brought comfort in the aftermath of her sudden and difficult departure.

Michael’s death brings a familiar though not familial sadness. I never thought about the King of Pop not being here. My “got to be there” assumption was that he’d always be here. But none of us get to stay on the charts forever.

Now I am left with the startling reality of a life not too many years younger than Mike’s. I reflect on reports that say his children are inconsolable. I consider my kids. I reflect on reports that say he was in ill health. I consider my own health. I reflect on his genius, how his gift changed the world. I consider my own dreams. I reflect on how the world changed him. And I consider the good and bad of this life we live.

While I’d rather not think about it, there’s no sense missing the reminder in all this that we get many moments, yet just one life.

I am really going to miss Michael Jackson. Every news clip I’ve heard that attempts to edit his life into a tidy sound bite has represented a different perspective of his world. Between spliced chunks of stowed-away quotes, studio moments, laughter and sadness, illumination spills forth in smiles and silences. As much as I’ve enjoyed trying to sum up my own MJ memories, I can no more easily pare his life into 25 words than I can my novels. I’m no MJ, but I hope my life won’t fit within the confines of a nice, neat sound bite bow either. I’ll take that as evidence that I was there for my life.

Peace to you and yours, Michael.

Reading to not make changes

2009-06-07T00:17:00.003-04:00

The galleys for Holiday Brides arrived yesterday. They come via email and -- this being my third set -- I now have this ritual of checking the ink cartridge, adjusting the print settings, and readying a stack of fresh paper to feed into the machine as it spits forth the laid out pages for me to proof.

It's a little nerve-wracking, the whole "read and don't make any 'unnecessary' changes" thing. Don't publishers know we're writers and constantly improving our prose is what fuels our existence??? Then again, I'm sure that's why the guideline is in place. *sigh*

So, my only real to-do this weekend is to re-read HeavenSent.com (a/k/a Brenna and Evan's story) and make sure what's on the pages-to-be matches what I submitted. I quit last night after two chapters. The back and forth was making my head spin. . .and I got distracted by VH1's "Black to the Future." My bad.

I'll do better tonight. When the June 16th deadline to return these galleys rolls around, I so need to back into my WIP. Deep, deep back.

On that note, wish me few typos, missing words, or lost chunks of plot!

Stefanie

Thursday Thirteen - Places I've Written

2009-05-28T21:36:00.008-04:00

Like babies who can sleep anywhere and through everything, my Muse is pretty flexible. Despite the special place I've created for her to reign, she pops up at will, despite what I'm doing at the moment. Here's my Thursday Thirteen list of places my books have been partially penned in (so far):

In a hospital room (passing the hours with my son)
In an airport (forced to write when I refused to pay for wireless access to surf)
In my car (before work when I'm putting off going in)
In a bank drive-thru (on the back of a receipt)
At the park (as I fight off bees while the kids are playing)
At the kitchen table (for some reason I couldn't revise in the same place I originally wrote. ???)
On the front porch (watching the kids ride bikes)
In the movie theater (in the dark, on the back of a ticket stub)
At a conference (boring @#$ speaker. . .)
In a meeting (pretending to jot dates on my PDA)
At the doctor's office (Okay, so what's the logic behind overbooking again?)
By candlelight (when the power went out)
On a long stretch of highway (En route to Idlewild. The scenery was too beautiful to not be inspired.)

Not so many places in the great scheme of things. Guess I need to get out more...

With special thanks to and for my brother, The Marine

2009-05-23T17:37:00.002-04:00

This Memorial Day weekend, I just wanted to take a few minutes to say “thanks” to my brother for his work as a Marine, keeping me and mine as well as you and yours safe in this America. I also wanted to say “thanks” to God for keeping him safe during his tour in Iraq at the start of the war and to ask for a replay as Cal prepares to leave for his second tour there in a couple of months. (May I mention that his first tour earned him a Bronze Star for heroism in combat?)

I am grateful to be part of a family where the kids grew up to do what they love. For Cal (or CJ to us) being a Marine is as ingrained in his being as writing is in mine. That’s a blessing I don’t take for granted.

Free Your Mind

2009-05-17T12:39:00.002-04:00

I took a walk with my kids yesterday and the entire way my son was picking on my daughter. She finally says to me, “Mom, he’s making me feel bad.”

My immediate response to her was, “He can only make you feel bad, if you let him.”

The statement seemed to shock them both. You could almost see light bulbs swirling in their heads. For me, the knee jerk reaction was meant to instill lessons it will take them years to realize: (1) Do not abuse power – or perceived power – bestowed on you by position, trust or affection. (2) Do not grant power – real or perceived – over any aspect of your life, to anyone without deep, conscientious and rational thought.

But we do this even as adults, don’t we? Find ourselves letting people exert influence over ourselves or specific situations that they don’t deserve to exercise. Maybe it’s because of friendship, love or family ties. It may be habitual. It may be impulsive. It may bring us comfort. It may bring us down. The ones we empower may be current cohorts, past demons, or a fusion of both.

The point today is mostly for me and I share it with anyone who might want to use it for themselves: Spring cleaning ought to be an ongoing personal effort. Today, I will take time to assess the people around me and their place in my life. Many good things have happened for me lately and I have plans for the days and years ahead (God willing.) I’m just going to spend a few minutes making sure that the people or circumstances I’ve allowed to occupy space or take root in my life ought to be along for the journey ahead in their current capacity.

I could not have come this far in my personal or professional life without the support of people who are genuinely in my corner. I am so grateful for them and include them in my daily prayers. Those other folks – the naysayers, haters, wolves in sheepskin – don’t deserve my time or attention.

After all, writing – for those of who consider ourselves craftsmen – takes incredible energy, drive and focus. I cannot afford to allow undue influences to sap me of my strength. Plain and simple.

So, where’s my broom and dustpan? Today I am sweeping out the debris in my life; freeing my mind and re-charging my life force to help me create better days and better pages in my future.

April blessings bring May challenges

2009-05-12T00:26:00.002-04:00

Well, I had a wonderful April. I have so much good writing news that my head is about to burst. (I'll share soon. Really.) As a result, there's also a whole new crop of characters lined up in my ever-busy brain itching to plot their way out.

So.

It's May. There are deadlines (both real and perceived), word counts and new promo avenues to tackle. And, of course, the Worth in me insists on kicking butt on all of the above.

Bear with me as I challenge myself to learn to write (much) shorter blogs (about) twice as often and juggle this with my son being home from college for the summer watching loud movies and rummaging through cabinets (in search crumbs he might have missed) during my precious midnight writing hours.

Here goes!

Getting Sucked In

2009-03-26T00:00:00.002-04:00

Being the sparse television viewer that I am and avid channel hopper, I tend to catch a lot of movies in snippets. So the other night, in a post-revision haze, I was flipping around cable and caught “The Brave One” starring Jodie Foster and Terrence Howard about 20 minutes into the film.

I’d read the cable channel’s information summary about the plot before settling on the station and apparently I joined the action after the inciting incident. (Writers, you know, the point at which the story catapults forward.) And though I missed seeing the actual scene that changed the course of Jodie’s character’s life, I didn’t feel like I missed anything at all.

You know how some flicks are: You come in five or ten minutes late, get to the end and say, “Hmmm, I must have missed something” because the ending leaves you less than satisfied. Or confused. Or irritated that you wasted your time watching at all.

Well, I have to say that Jodie’s acting was so on-spot, her character so engaging, that I could sense the depth of what must have happened to her in the minutes I missed just by watching her actions as the movie unfolded. I don’t even feel like I need to try to catch the first 20 minutes of the movie another time.

So, of course, as an author, what does one have to do to make a character that complete? A heroine (or hero) who is so compelling that you feel their emotion, understand their behavior, empathize with their flaws, anticipate their actions? That you want to run your fingers across the type as if feeling their skin beneath your fingers? How does a make-believe person become that real?

Of course, there are many how-to's on developing characters. I use two books in particular: Writers Guide to Character Traits by Linda N. Edelstein, Ph.D., and The Complete Writer's Guide to Heroes & Heroines: Sixteen Master Archetypes by Tami D. Cowden, Caro LaFever and Sue Viders. I also spend a lot of time people watching; looking for the quirks that make for great plot twists and for the humanity that makes us real.

And then there's Jodie, sucking you into the screen.

Duly inspired, I’ve set a new standard for myself: I want my words to rise from their sentences, take shape atop the book, and distract the reader with their all-too-real antics. In deference to the art of my craft, I will write fictional people as if Jodie Foster or Don Cheadle had already breathed life into each line.

In a world 40 years ago my son probably wouldn’t be here

2009-01-30T07:00:00.004-05:00

At one point in time, the average life span for people with Sickle Cell Anemia was twelve years of age. Today, my younger son has hit that milestone – and not without a whole lot of reflection and praise from me.

Thank you, Lord!

Mine is a quiet spirituality that has carried me through the difficult reality of raising a child with an uncertain prognosis. When I began doling out medicine droppers filled with prophylactic antibiotics when he was two months old, I did so out of duty (the doctor insisted), obligation (this is my child to care for) and, okay, trepidation (what if I don’t?).

A couple of years ago, I wrote a lengthy and cathartic essay about our journey with Sickle Cell Anemia; the hospitalizations with their umpteen pokes, the threats of being fired for being off with him too much, the anger with a teacher who decided to treat a 104 degree temperature and day-long pain by telling him to get a drink of water instead of calling me as instructed.

If I sounded a little ticked in that last line, it’s because I still am.

The emotion is as much anger with that type of ignorance as it is disappointment with a scientific community that still hasn’t defined a CURE for this disease. It’s one of the oldest (if not the oldest) known genetic conditions. And it took how many years for someone to figure out that one teaspoon of penicillin a day could extend these lives to near “normal” length? Come on now.

Today, what we have are bone marrow and stem cell transplants. But because of what the procedures require, both are reserved for the most severe cases: children who have strokes and other debilitating complications. My sweetie is not quite sick enough, it seems, for that morsel of wholeness.

Stem cell transplants are much less invasive, but not yet widespread – reserved still for those who are most ill. Our hematologist, Dr. Wanda Shurney of Children’s Hospital of Michigan, once told me that she believes that his Sickle Cell Anemia will no longer be an issue for him by the time he grows up; that science will have refined the technique to make the transplants more accessible to all those who need one.

He sure can.

Till that fine day arrives, let’s donate, support the research, know your genetics, and say a little prayer for my son and the thousands of children like him. Please.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!
Mom is so glad you’re mine.

Stefanie
www.stefanieworth.com

For more info:
The Sickle Cell Center at Children's Hospital of Michigan
Sickle Cell Disease Association of America
Michigan Citizens for Stem Cell Research and Cures
Sickle Cell Camp

I've got the magic

2009-01-13T01:30:00.004-05:00

When I was little, I loved to watch Cinderella – the Rogers & Hammerstein TV version featuring Leslie Warren. My favorite part was when she sang the song, “In My Own Little Corner” about how she could be anything her imagination wanted in that personal space. Now all grown up, I too, have such a magical space. I’ve most commonly heard it referred to as a Writer’s Cave.

At one point, my Cave consisted of a Sauder desk (complete with hutch) that I assembled myself. It has traveled from apartment to flat to my current home, where it originally bounced from a wall in the living room to a place I carved out for it in my bedroom between my lingerie chest and the bed. That's the Cave that birthed Where Souls Collide. Eventually, I relocated the desk to our unfinished basement and staked my first claim on an official writing territory.

I had the pleasure of hearing Beverly Jenkins speak at the Macomb Book Fai r and Writers Conference last year where she shared the memory of her first offices; a closet, I believe, and the space under a stairwell. Like her, I have shared my Cave with many a spider over the years. And like the once untamed West, my territory and I have settled into each other.

I traded in the hutch desk for a more expansive corner unit that my oldest son helped me assemble. The hutch became a book and binder holder. I added a bookshelf and shelving unit. The patio blinds I hung to hide behind were replaced by drywall two years ago. (Ooooo!) Can You Believe in The Holiday Inn anthology was born there along with countless ideas for the Future File. And just last month I added another shelving unit to relieve, and retire, the 18-year-old hutch. In this new Cave, I've already conceived two new works in progress.

Just as educators tell parents to ensure that their children have a designated place to study, I think it’s important for writers to have their own little corner -- or Cave -- in the world.

Sure, I can write anywhere really. When pressed, my muse speaks in the car, on a plane, at my kids’ sports and dance practices, or at the park while I watch them play. I even wrote by candlelight when we lost power for two days during a recent snowstorm.

I'm sure my writing center will evolve as my craft continues to blossom. While an attic cove getaway overlooking water and trees would be wonderful, I am so cool with having this place that the entire household knows is MINE. Because when I hustle down the basement stairs, navigate the play area obstacle course before me and arrive at my softly-lit, Feng Shui-esque Cave in the corner, then, the magic begins.

Stefanie
www.stefanieworth.com

Treat yourself to Brandy's rendition of "In My Own Little Corner"

“Is it fear or courage that compels you, fleshling?”

2009-01-04T23:20:00.005-05:00

I thought my favorite line from the movie, Transformers, would make a quick and easy New Year’s blog topic. And it did, for a minute.

One of the quotes listed on my Facebook profile is from a sheet of paper my father gave me when I was about 16. “The most unfortunate thing that happens to a person who fears failure is that he limits himself by becoming afraid to try anything new. Give yourself a chance.”

I can honestly say that I’ve gone beyond the chance aspect of living and changed that into an expectation. My brothers and I might call it the Worth Ethic. We simply have this expectation that if we set our minds to it, the doggone thing will happen. End of story. So fear, I presumed at the start of this blog, has no place in my life.

But it does!

I am deathly afraid of failing to try. I am certain that if I have the slightest inkling of a talent that I don’t put to productive use, the good Lord will look at me as I stand before him and say, “But why didn’t you ever. . .?” I am a staunch believer in the parable of the talents (about multiplying what you’ve been given) to the point that I’m willing to pounce on the slightest glimmer of interest in any new activity by my children.

“Oh, you think you might like to draw?” We try an art class. “Want to be like Denzel Washington, do you?” Acting workshops. “Like to shake it up?” Dance class it is. And for speed, tackling, a good arm, a strong kick, there’s been track, football, hockey, soccer, basketball and baseball. Oh and viola and trumpet lessons -- with the next household instrument to be determined. I even bought a camera for my son who (temporarily) showed a knack for great composition in impromptu photos.

Some might consider it overkill, I call it exposure. How else would Barack Obama have known he could be president if he’d never tried to be an elected official? I just want my kids to venture into new experiences without fear of failure. In our house, it’s not not succeeding that I focus on. It’s not exploring your heart’s desire, not attempting to discern your strengths and weaknesses, not learning what’s out there in the world waiting for you to find it.

As a writer, I’ve done my share of dabbling. Those things that didn’t work out get added to my Lived & Learned file. And I relish those experiences. Taking them along on this writer’s journey is perhaps one way of multiplying my gift; expanding my own mind while sharing with others.

The fear I carry is not a worrisome one that flinches at failure or cringes at condescending viewpoints. It’s more of a "Forget Everything Else And Rise!" motivator that keeps pushing me to do me best.

"Fear or courage"? For this fleshling, it’s both.

Here’s wishing you a FEEAR-ful 2009!

Stefanie
www.stefanieworth.com

Experience vs. Innovation: Why the fight? (with a nod to Julian Bond)

2008-12-02T10:48:00.006-05:00

When did experience and innovation become mutually exclusive?

America seems to be in a sweeping frame of mind. Historic elections and failing industry have seen the recent head-rolling of incumbent politicians and ruined executives. While voters and boards of directors are exercising their rights to enable change based on perceived poor performance, in Motown we seem to take a different tack.

For some time now, I’ve watched companies swapping out seasoned workers for starry-eyed industry entrants as if experienced employees were yesterday’s underwear.

Could it be a Michigan thing? For those of you outside our economically eroded region, things here haven’t been good since 9/11. We’ve had seven years of what the rest of the country has seen in the last ten months. So, I’d understand if company leaders were jittery about their bottom lines and saw trading in higher-priced staff for rookies half their cost (and age) as a viable way to tighten spending. But my sense is that it’s more than finances.

Do know that I’m not talking about companies that downsize based on job performance criteria. Baby Boomer, Gen Y, long-term or short; if you’re not producing, then you ought not stay. But to sweep out entire levels of senior staff based on assumptions about fresh thinking (young = do, old = can’t) seems…well…stupid.

A headline on Yahoo News recently proclaimed, “Expertise Trumps Ideology in Obama’s Early Picks.” I wavered between shouting a literal “yahoo!” and simply saying “Duh.” He is about to run the most powerful nation in the world, so who do you expect he’s going to choose to help him do that: someone with proven experience in getting things done or someone with a pocketful of ideas unaware of the subtle differences between implementation and execution?

Give me the experience that will support my vision and ideas that enable action.

Let’s say you’re a new parent gearing up for your first night out on the town since your child’s arrival. When seeking a baby sitter, you want someone who’s not only taken classes on how to babysit, but perhaps has younger siblings, brings references from neighbors s/he has babysat for or is even a friend of yours with kids of his/her own. You don’t want to come home to find your child unattended, a party in your house and the sitter making whoopee with some stranger in the back.

You want to know that your Rules of Order for parenting your child are adhered to and executed by the sitter. So it appears for our president-to-be. So it should be for today’s companies.

Thought in action: Let’s keep Julian Bond

Please note that my musings go beyond the confines of corporate America and extend to small businesses, the nonprofit arena and community organizations alike. In fact this was one of those I’ve-been-thinking-about-X-lately blogs that I wrote just for me until I heard Jeff Johnson’s commentary on the Tom Joyner Morning Show today.

I’d read recently that Benjamin Jealous is going to take over the helm at the national NAACP. What I didn’t know was that Julian Bond has decided to step down from the board. Jeff went on to share his and another colleague’s reasons that Julian must stay. I agree with them.

As I’ve ranted above, there are certain times in which experience does matter. When it comes to the history of Africans in America, I’d say that Julian’s seasoned perspective will be imperative to supporting the execution of Benjamin’s vision in the days to come. Those who feel that this is not (at all!) the time to lose a voice like Julian’s from this critical vantage point are encouraged to call the national NAACP at 877-NAACP-98. For more information about the NAACP, visit http://www.naacp.org/.

Back to my experience vs. innovation rant…

A vision of how the world, a small business or large corporation looks in the future should walk hand-in-hand with acumen for creating real change. I believe in a saying I heard years ago: “A fish rots from the head down.”

If a company isn’t generating results, could it be leadership’s fault? Are the employees in place able to recognize and affirm talent? Realize and release a lack thereof? Are the standards of accountability constantly shifting? Are potential leaders nurtured or chased off by frightened supervisors? Is everyone at the company obligated to understand what’s happening in the world outside the company walls? Is the goal truly satisfying the customer or packaging our own complacency so that we appear cutting edge? Is there anybody on board unafraid to tell the emperor s/he’s naked? If the emperor isn’t listening, is there a balancing authority that can escort him/her out?

If a fish rots from the head down and not the inside out, then relevant experience and the ability to innovate should be looked at employee by employee, from top to bottom. Staff value should be based on individual contributions and not generational stereotypes. I wonder if industry has succumbed to promoting the easy appearance of success as opposed to striving for true measures of accomplishment.

I obviously don't believe that innovation and experience are mutually exclusive. Nor, to me, does the history of this country and our people reflect that either. I'd say that if we're going to get anywhere, we need great ideas and great people who know how to turn them into great actions. It's especially nice when both abilities show up in a single individual.

Stefanie
http://www.stefanieworth.com/

Santa Baby 2008 Virtual Book Tour for Hopeless Romantics

2008-11-28T14:49:00.003-05:00

The Santa Baby 2008 Virtual Book Tour allows hopeless romantics to flex their very vivid imaginations and soar as they hear from ten beloved romance writers just in time for the holidays!

All The Buzz Reviews and The GRITS COM Literary Service have teamed up to host the Santa Baby 2008 Virtual Book Tour headlining some of today’s exciting African American romance writers, December 1-12, 2008!

This exclusive ten-day virtual book tour will give romance readers, and new readers to the genre, a chance to hear from ten popular writers about their new and upcoming book releases just in time for the holidays!

This virtual book tour is inspired by the sultry sex-kitten, Eartha Kitt. Her Christmas song, “Santa Baby,” topped the charts in 1953 making her one of the most popular entertainers in the world. The same sensuous mix that Eartha Kitt brought to this Christmas song many years ago, is the same sensuous mix - Gwyneth Bolton, Niobia Bryant, Dyanne Davis, Gwynne Forster, Bettye Griffin, Donna Hill, Andrea Jackson, Deborah Fletcher Mello, Farrah Rochon, and Stefanie Worth - bring to their work and to this tour!

Romance novels made an astonishing $1.4 billion last year, making the romance genre one of the top sellers in the publishing industry. Though some complain that the formulaic plot and “happily-ever-after” endings in romances aren’t always indicative of real life; the staggering number of romances sold each year is testament to its popularity and staying power!

The Santa Baby 2008 Virtual Book Tour begins Monday, December 1, 2008. So join the tour at AllTheBuzzReviews (www.allthebuzzreviews.com) or TheGRITS.com/virtualbooktour (www.thegrits.com/virtualbooktour)About All The Buzz ReviewsAll The Buzz Reviews is the book reviews and literary event blog of Renee Williams, the CEO & Owner of Literary Signature Service, an event planning business specializing in literary events for authors of every genre.

About The GRITS COM Literary ServiceThe GRITS COM Literary Service is an online book promotion service that specializes in serving the unique web publicity needs of authors and publishers.

CONTACT:
The GRITS COM Literary Service
526 Kingwood Drive, Suite 404
Kingwood, TX 77339
281-973-6919

Obama's victory, divine order, and mission

2008-11-06T11:31:00.006-05:00

I got an email from a friend yesterday, so pleadingly heartfelt that it stopped my perfunctory subject skimming and made me answer her on the spot. She just wanted to know what Obama's win meant to her friends.

Like her, there are so many words, thoughts and possibilities in my head they are hard to corral. When I allow myself to consider the meaning of this win, I get that tight feeling in my chest that comes with anxiety. I can feel my breathing deepen, my pulse race. My head has been hurting since Tuesday morning. Concentrating at work has been beyond difficult.

But it's all good: because my heart is in its best condition ever. So here's what I wrote to my friend:

For me, the belief Barack fostered in me long ago is one that doesn't end with the election. I am waiting to answer his next call to service for community and self. More than that, though, I can't help but reflect on my kids' experiences. With the three of them being so spread out, it offers me differing perspectives.

My 19-year-old college student cast his first-ever vote for Barack. As if that isn't powerful enough, I still see him standing on the brink of his future, but that road block "right there" has been removed to allow him to proceed more directly rather than following the detour to his very near destination -- dreams.

For my 11-year-old, who has so much to grasp about tomorrow, it's as new, exciting and now as starting middle school was this year. There is no historical baggage for him in this victory. He's a kid, you know? He'll likely remember helping me put the sign in the yard, learning the issues throughout the campaign, going to the polls with me, following the vote throughout the evening, and cheering at midnight along with the rest of the world. Barack's win is Tweenage cool like a baseball season that culminates with a playoff trophy or an end-of-semester A. Perhaps the lesson for him will be in witnessing hard work pay off.

For my 6-year-old daughter, who awoke Nov. 4 saying, "Today is the election!," there are issues and a process of which she has no clue (save for "You color circles to vote?"). But beyond all the brown baby dolls I can buy for her, and the stories I can tell about how her Nana integrated her high school in 1956 or how her great-grandma ran her own business in that same small southern-minded town, my youngest one gets to rise through the world watching two little girls who look like her grow up in the White House.

That's the thought that takes my breath away.

There's a line in Stevie Wonder's song, "As," that says "You can bet your life [. . . ] that God knew exactly where he wanted you to be placed." I feel as if each of us has been divinely planted in this moment at our appointed ages and stages to continue the momentum with our unique vision and talents.

That mandate hit home even harder today when I remembered my cancelled airline ticket I purchased to attend the African American Literary Awards Show in September. At the last minute, I had to cancel that trip. But now I have a way to DC for Barack's inauguration and a cousin who lives there to stay with.

My excitement is beyond words. As all things are in divine order, I can't wait to discover my mission in this blessing.

Stefanie
http://www.stefanieworth.com/

On the Cusp of Change

2008-11-03T23:57:00.001-05:00

Well, when I plopped down to start logging words tonight, it wasn’t meant to be in blog form. But I can’t help it. I guess I – like many others – feel compelled to record my thoughts for posterity on the eve of this historic presidential election.

I have that queasy churning in my stomach that I used to get before strolling the runway in a fashion show or taking the microphone for a news broadcast or hitting the stage for a dance performance.

It’s showtime, baby.

I saw Obama back in May of '07 at the Detroit Economic Club. The place was packed. And just like the rallies that would soon follow, that esteemed business audience was filled with faces of every hue that ran the generational gamut from Millennials to Boomers. That day, it was like he told folks here in Detroit that the Emperor had no clothes, words others seemed afraid to utter. And, oh, how the truth has come to pass! I admired the frankness, the confident intelligence shared with a next-door-neighbor smile.

What’s that saying about "you had me at hello?" Yeah, that’s me and Barack, except the phrase of capture was “Good Afternoon.”

Friends were surprised that I didn’t back Hilary. I can see why. My grandmother owned and operated her own hair salon in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, from the 70s until her death in 1989. She was down in the shop working when she suffered the heart attack that took her life. But what a role model for me! To see this Saved & Sanctified African American woman handling her business in that small, small-minded town.

That’s the same place my mother grew up. And when she reached high school age, she was one of a tiny group of young teens who integrated Cape Girardeau Central High School in the late 50s. I watched my mother navigate one hurdle after another as I grew up: raising four kids, working full time and attending school the whole time I was growing up.

So, I can see why people would’ve thought I’d be a Hilary fan. Barack, for me, was simply bigger picture. My oldest son is a second year college student. At 19, this is his first presidential election – and what a vote he gets to cast! In spite of the confusion surrounding do’s and don’ts for first-time voters, absentee ballots, etc., he has his new address sticker, his patience and his ID, ready to stand in line and do what he must for the America our ancestors struggled to shape.

Like so many Americans, I believe that November 4th, 2008, means a lot more than pulling a lever or punching a ballot. Healthcare, education, way of life, a global economy, broader vision, a different path are all pinned to Barack's coat tails. For me, it’s way past time to stop sitting on the fence of complacency watching better ways of being pass our country by.

My hope?
Today cusp, tomorrow change.

Stefanie
http://www.stefanieworth.com/

October is Spec Fiction Month at Black Author Showcase. . .

2008-10-25T20:28:00.003-04:00

. . .and I'm featured!

Many thanks to Diane over at the Black Author Showcase site for recognizing and uplifting my genre of choice this month. The feature spot includes a bio, story summaries and a thoughtful Q&A that I really enjoyed participating in.

If you get a chance, please take a few minutes to check it out.

Stefanie
www.stefanieworth.com

Don’t get high on your own supply

2008-10-12T17:25:00.009-04:00

The theme of this blog will be instantly recognized by any true Scarface fan. Remember when Tony Montana’s “business” was getting off the ground and someone admonished him, “Don’t get high on your own supply”? Well, we all know how that turned out, but the phrase took on new meaning for me several days ago when I trekked down to my basement office for a good night’s write and found. . . get this. . .a dead bird under my desk.

Oh, yeah. I was totally creeped out.

My mind immediately searched for myths, superstitions and old wives tales about birds. I knew the sayings were out there, but I couldn’t recall the substance of a single one, save for a deep sense of, “this probably doesn’t bode well.” It shook me so much that I, the Miss Independent New Millennium Do-It-Aller, called my husband down to dispose of the bird. He did it, but not without teasing me about it first.

I took a deep breath, said a few prayers and then set about disinfecting the tiny circular area around the bird spot. We later scoured the basement for an entryway and found absolutely nothing. Weird.

The next morning, as I was leaving to take my daughter to school, my cat got to meowing like crazy and up from the basement flew a very flustered bird. We spent the next 15 minutes chasing it out of the house. The next day, there were two more birds flying around the house. We searched again and came to the conclusion that somehow (after all these years in this house) the birds must’ve gotten misdirected and flown into the chimney that now connects to the furnace. Eeek.

Unfortunately, though, the theory was confirmed when the cat got crazy again and led me to a tiny bird body that had apparently come down the chimney, through the connector pipe to the furnace and slid out. Unfortunately, the furnace must’ve been on when it made its trip.

That was the last bird. And since then, I’ve settled down (mentally) over the whole ordeal. But, you know me: I write supernatural stories; reality-based tales with otherworldy twists. They are threaded with essence, spirit and unspoken occurrences. It’s the kind of stuff people whisper about and wonder if their best friend, co-worker or neighbor adheres to similar subconscious beliefs. Even I have never admitted to being superstitious.

Believing that any force other than God has control over our fate just doesn’t seem to jive with my very religious upbringing. Though I grew up as a devout Catholic – a religion rife with symbols, statues, beads, etc. – crossing the street because of the wrong-colored cat seems sacrilegious. Yet, I do note that the cat was black and that he crossed my path. I avoid splitting the pole when I walk with others, try not to step under ladders, don’t deliberately open my umbrella indoors, or place my purse on the floor unless there’s nowhere else to put it.

I am aware and open-minded regarding some other schools of thought on life and its happenings. That doesn’t mean I accept everything I know is out there, I just know alternate mindsets exist. If my mind wasn’t willing to explore these realms, Twilight Zone, Outer Limits, The Sixth Sense, Hancock, Blade, Anne Rice, Tananarive Due and Dean Koontz would hold no interest for me. But they do. And that’s why I write what I write.

My characters claim skills and abilities the rest of us may not have, but I also empower them to overcome their circumstances and themselves. My supernatural heroines learn to control their actions and their powers and become better people because of their gifts. Then the tale wraps up and we all move on to my next flight of fancy.

My stories reflect a personal belief that no one is entirely helpless against the universe. We are each granted the life tools we need to handle the situations we encounter: be that common sense, a specialized degree, a trusting friend or clever instinct. So, whether my “supply” is ample imagination, religious roots, or age-old superstition, I don’t allow any of these elements to hold me captive to beliefs or practices that sabotage my peace of mind.

The thought process may seem to contradict itself a bit, but really now: The worst splitting a pole does is just break up your conversation or hand holding for a second. Purses left on the floor have far less to do with being broke than not making enough money. And except for those creepy crows carrying the West Nile Virus, wayward winged creatures don’t herald death.

With condolences to the birds’ families, I don’t get high on my own supply, but I certainly do fly with the ideas.

Where Souls Collide wins Science Fiction category at the Literary Awards Show!

2008-09-27T13:34:00.005-04:00

I am really excited to announce that Where Souls Collide won at the African American Literary Awards Show held Sept. 25 at the Harlem Gatehouse in New York. I can not tell you how exciting this is for me and how grateful I am to everyone who cast their vote for my debut novel.

Being incredibly motivated to complete revisions on my current WIP and move on to the next, I'm going to cut this blog short and share details of the moment through the press release I distributed yesterday. (Now whether anyone picks it up is a whole 'nother animal, but it does add nicely to the media kit. :)

Live. Love. Dream. Believe!
Stefanie
www.stefanieworth.com

SOUTHFIELD, MICH. (September 26, 2008) -- A Detroit-based story about a newspaper’s struggle to survive a changing marketplace has taken a top honor at the 2008 African American Literary Awards Show.

Where Souls Collide by local author Stefanie Worth won the AALAS Science Fiction category. Last year’s winner, L.A. Banks (author of the popular Vampire Huntress series) was again in contention for the award along with well-known national bestsellers Tananarive Due and Brandon Massey. Worth is ecstatic that her debut novel held its own in the field.

“First of all, I was very excited to learn that my book had been nominated for the award. When I saw my competition, I was both humbled and inspired,” said Worth. “I can’t say thank you enough to all my friends, family and fans who voted for Where Souls Collide. They made this happen.”

AALAS nominees were chosen by an advisory panel of authors, publishers and literary industry experts. Winners were chosen by a public online voting process that ran throughout the summer. They were announced during the annual awards dinner held at New York’s Harlem Gatehouse last night.

“I hope this award allows me to share this character’s struggle to overcome with a bigger audience,” Worth continued. “The topic of financial difficulty is especially timely right now. Combined with the story’s romantic theme, there are enough twists to keep readers guessing – and hoping – until the very end of the book.”

Worth, who won national recognition for her editorial work at the Michigan Chronicle, chose the setting for Where Souls Collide based on her fond memories of that job.

“It’s a reality-based story woven with a supernatural premise, so my novel landed in the Science Fiction category.” Worth said. “I consider the book a sort of ‘ode to second chances’ because both the heroine’s professional and personal lives are going through major transitions.”

In addition to her days as a newspaper reporter, Worth also spent time in broadcasting at National Public Radio and ABC affiliates in Missouri. She worked as a reporter and anchor for WJLB radio in Detroit before moving on to the Chronicle and, eventually, her current role as director of communications for an area nonprofit. Meanwhile, she keeps plugging away toward a full-time career as a novelist.

Where Souls Collide, published through Dorchester Publishing, is available at major book sellers in-store and online. Her next work, a short story titled "Can You Believe," appears in The Holiday Inn anthology just released by Dorchester. For more information about the author or her writing, please visit www.stefanieworth.com.

For more information about the African American Literary Awards Show or to view the full listing of 2008 winners, visit www.literaryawardshow.com.

###

Results of distraction

2008-09-06T23:24:00.006-04:00

Here are photos of the crochet project I mentioned in Relax, Release, Relate. There were actually two baby blankets; this is just a near full-size and detail shot of one.

I spent about one week making each blanket (about 3+ hours per day). That doesn't count the time I spent hunting for just the right yarn, going to different stores to purchase the necessary quantities and buying a whole new set of crochet hooks (long story there.) I used three different brands of yarn, all with a mohair look/feel.

The pattern rates its skill level as intermediate and I'd agree with that. It called for a size G hook, I chose to go with the yarn's gauge, which was a K. So I had to do a few practice runs on the first three rows to get the pattern to fall out correctly. I found it (free!) online at freepatterns.com (the fleur-de-lis baby afghan).

I wanted to give the blanket a more finished look, so I added the Hugs and Kisses Edge that I found (free!) online at BevsContryCottage.com.

I made "home from the hospital" blankets for each of my three children. I sized these two blankets by the ones I have on hand. Over the years, they've grown with my children -- from swaddling to car seat cover-ups to nap times and now they serve as leg coverings on movie nights. Of course, my daughter has asked for a mini-version for her favorite doll.

I know she'll understand that I need to hit my next writing deadline first, but I promise to whip up another loopy-laced masterpiece before winter sets in.

Stefanie
http://www.stefanieworth.com/

Barack Obama in Detroit

2008-09-03T23:45:00.005-04:00

Just wanted to share a few photos from our trek downtown to hear Barack Obama speak on Labor Day. It was my second time, my kids' first. (Unfortunately, my oldest is off at college and missed out on all the live excitement.)

It was so hot that day, but the temperature cooled in comparison to the fiery spirit of the incredibly diverse crowd that gathered to witness history in the making.

If you've been in one of these crowds, you know just what I mean.

Still, despite the fervor, my six-year-old managed to find a shady spot at my feet, curled herself into a ball and fell asleep on top of my shoes. One day, when she's old enough to be ashamed of the memory, we'll remind her of how she slept through the whole thing. Meanwhile, we'll share our pictures with her.

Stefanie

http://www.stefanieworth.com/

Restless over my soap's latest story lines

2008-09-01T00:38:00.005-04:00

Is it just me, or is my near lifelong favorite soap creating characters I can't stand by the boat load lately? Young and the Restless, which I've watched since I was 12, is my one and only daytime drama. It's an addiction I proudly admit to and try my best to stoke daily.

But for the last several months, the plot has been saddled with characters who do little more than get on my nerves. Let's see, there was Sabrina. (Sorry, but the whole 'My dad married my best friend' thing was creepy. Gross creepy.) So, good bye and good riddance to her.

Then there's the Chloe nonsense with the baby trickery. That takes me back to those Sheila and Lauren days. Nobody did it better than Sheila and I don't need Chloe's whiny attempt to recreate that situation. Cane is just dumb for marrying her. Totally unable to suspend my disbelief with that scenerio.

David Chow. Enough said. Won't see ya later. Bu-bye. Double yea!

And Cake Topper Numero Uno: That dedgum Adam. Yeck! First off, we all knew Victor wasn't dead. None of us are that silly. So, he'll come back, see the mess Adam has created and make nice with Victoria, Nicky and Nicholas again. Meanwhile, all I can hope is that Brad gives that fake Victor Jr. his comeuppance.

May I also suggest, while I'm ranting, another African American male lead (or two or three) so that Lily can have some choice in companions. Please understand, I have nothing against the interracial story lines. But Cane was such a stretch for our very naive Lily. (Uh, and an eligible bachelor like him could use some better choices, too. I would like to have seen him with Heather, personally.) A nice positive young brother who does right by Miss Lily would be refreshing. But also, perhaps, un-soap opera like.

Isn't this what soap operas are supposed to do, you say? Hook us on the absolutely unbelievable? It is, I guess. And that's what I try to do as a writer when I toss in those supernatural twists I love so well. But one thing I've learned about crafting heroes and heroines is that they should have some redeemable characteristic. Your leads can't be completely unlikable or most readers will toss them aside. Human, yes. Hannibalistic, no. At least not in my current genre.

That said, I'm ready for the next round of Y&R happenings -- minus Chloe and Adam. Sad fact is, I'll bet the writers and ratings-watchers know I'll be tuning in every day any way. *sigh*

OK. Back to my own word counts and the much more important mind-occupying events of the day -- like sending up prayers for those in Gustav's path. I realize I am quite blessed to be so mindlessly preoccupied, even for a little while.

Stefanie
http://www.stefanieworth.com/

Most memorable mind-bending movies

2008-08-19T23:15:00.002-04:00

These are my picks for movies that stand out in my memory. Some of them give me a (((shudder))) just to think about them. Still.

The list represents my recall as of right now, this moment and in no particular order -- no rankings, ratings, right or wrong. Just the creeps. Enjoy!

The Others (starring Nicole Kidman)
The Sixth Sense (starring Haley Joel Osmet)
The House of Dies Drear (Howard Rollins)
The Believers (starring Jimmy Smits)
Dragonfly (starring Kevin Kostner)
Angel Heart (starring Lisa Bonet)
The Matrix Series (starring Keanu Reeves, Laurence Fishburne)
Fallen (starring Denzel Washington)
The Shining (starring Jack Nicholson)
The Skeleton Key (starring Kate Hudson)
The Green Mile (starring Michael Clarke Duncan and Tom Hanks)

Also came across this cool site while I was out surfing for correct spellings. Gotta add this to my faves. What are yours??

Stefanie
www.stefanieworth.com

Music makes my world go round

2008-08-09T01:52:00.004-04:00

Last year, I started a job that is seven minutes from home. For the first time in too many years of working, I'm not on a traffic-clogged freeway driving into or out of the heart of Detroit. People kept telling me how lucky I was to be close to schools, church, grocery stores, etc. And now with gas prices, you'd think I'd thank my lucky stars. But, no. Not me. It took me less than a week to figure out what was tragically wrong with my new situation.

It may sound a little crazy, but I miss commuting.

I lead a hectic life. So that 30-minute morning drive allowed me to channel hop on the radio so I could catch tidbits of the latest news, hear Steve Harvey's Strawberry Letter, and still have time to pop in a CD and enjoy a few of my favorite tracks that set the mood for my day before I swung into a parking garage and started my nine-to-five.

Evenings were the same way. I had time to unwind from work before picking up the kids and slipping into Mommy Mode and starting my "second job" as queen of the roost. I realize now how important that time was to me. More CDs and less radio on the afternoon drive, I plotted stories, made quick phone calls so I could devote time to home once I got there, and let go of all that stuff that tries to undo your sanity on the j-o-b. Now I can be at work or home when I'm barely into the second song on a CD. Grrrr....

So, when I was driving up to Idlewild last week, I finally had the chance to do the hey-I'm-all-by-myself-in-the-car-for-a-long-time thing. I did urban contemporary for the first 45 miles or so. When that faded, I picked up one of those pop rock stations that plays Neyo, Rhianna, Chris Daughtry and Lil Wayne. I stuck with that for half an hour or so before my trip to northern Michigan led me deep into pop oldies, country western and contemporary Christian music territory.

I heard some songs I hadn't heard since I was a kid. Like a song by the Fifth Dimensions (do you even know who they are??) and Carlton Banks' favorite Tom Jones song, "It's Not Unusual." (By the way, I can't hear that song without seeing his dance in my head.) Then I retreated to a CD I only get to hear in snatches, Chrisette Michelle's, "I Am." Wow!

I've adopted Track #4, "Best of Me" as my ode to the Summer of '08. That song will forever remind me of my first trip to Idlewild. And it got me thinking of the place music holds in my life. As I sped along the freeway I thought of a slew of songs that bring back specific memories whenever I hear them. Here are a few of the old songs and their moments:

In the Rain by the Dramatics -- Pretending to be the Temptations with my cousins in the mornings before we left for school.

Black Water by the Doobie Brothers -- A trip to Six Flags and splashing down the log ride with a bunch of family friends.

Piano in the Dark by Brenda Russell -- The dark days of my divorce. (((SHUDDER)))

Shame by Evelyn Champagne King -- Summers with my cousin down in Cape Girardeau, Missouri.

Yearnin for Your Love by the Gap Band -- Those days when you wondered if you'd ever find a decent boyfriend. Applicable for many, many years after I bought that album...

Bad Times (I Can't Stand It) by Captain Rapp -- That and any other 80s/early 90s rap reminds me of my post-college club scene. Those days when I could hang out dancing all night and still get up and be on time for work.

Kiss From a Rose by Seal -- The first time I drove home to St. Louis by myself. It was a beautiful, hot summer day driving through mid-America in my Jeep. I drank a ton of Pepsi and made great time.

How Can I Ease the Pain by Lisa Fischer -- A nameless old flame who would always sing this strangely prophetic song and miss all those oh-so-important high notes.

It Ain't Over Till it's Over by Lenny Kravitz -- My last pregnancy and the baby who seemed to love (and still leans toward) electric guitars.

One of the sessions at the Dubois-Chesnutt Writing Institute in Idlewild was about using poetic principles to make your prose sing. I shared that I create a playlist for every story; songs that speak to the plot, conflict and characters' relationships. The songs for Where Souls Collide are posted on my web site and soon I'll post the list for Can You Believe.

My works in progress have their own distinctive lists as well. There's a little crossover because some songs -- face it -- are just writing favorites. But when I sit down at the laptop and put on my headphones, each playlist takes me directly to the heart of that story. It's a great way to beat writer's block. And since I no longer have a commute to unwind with, it's the next best mental thing to being on a long stretch of freeway.

Tuning out for now --
Stefanie