Friday, December 15, 2006

Character Assassination

I have a character who is giving me absolute fits. Bastard won't behave according to plan. Every time I have him where I want him, I get this response: You can lead me there, you can even give me the words to say and actions to perform, but unless I'm my own man, my quality of life will suffer. So will your book.

While I'm writing and rewriting, I hear the lick-lick, chomp-chomp, bite-bite coming from the wolf-hound I rescued in 2000. Not long before Christmas that year, a six-year-old neighbor boy whose mother refused to watch him dug beneath my fence and coaxed Chewy to come play. The boy survived unscathed when the van caught up with them, but Chewy was injuried. He was knocked twenty-five feet or so, and I received a phone call at work to come get him. He'd managed to crawl to a nearby curb and haul himself out of the street, but he was in a bad way.

Hours later, the dog was pronounced all but dead, totally paralyzed, and I was encouraged to have him put to sleep. Something in his eyes told me this would be unwise--he wanted to live. What the hell, right? It was only money...and a life in the balance.

They chopped off his beautiful long tail, shoved titanium rods in his back and left hip, sewed him up, and gave him a bed for as long as I held out hope. The day before Christmas Eve, I brought him home, after he'd been in the vet clinic about three weeks. Somehow, with the help of a friend, I managed to help him walk by lifting him with towels and forcing him to take steps 3-4 times daily. I'd get on my belly and hold out treats a few inches out of his reach until he started crawling towards my hands.

I even enlisted the help of his buddy, another rescue dog I named Pita. She'd take a sock dolly to him, and when he'd latch onto it, she'd drag him across the floor, with him growling, complaining, and generally mopping the floor with his body.

I feel like my disobedient character is much like Chewy. Chewy survived, and his quality of life is better than good--it's great. He stubbornly insists on doing a few things that annoy the crap out of me, chewing his own skin. If he were human, he'd be a cutter, I swear.

Now I'm frustrated. Screw this. I lift my fingers from the keyboard and walk outside, taking the dogs with me. I think of my own quality of life as I light the cigarette that leads me closer to lung disease. I ponder the consequences of all our actions. Watching Chewy romp and play, I can't help but chuckle at the bald spot on his ass that has grown from a tiny wet thumbprint to a three-inch diameter badge worthy of a chemo patient, the dull grey skin a sharp contrast to his otherwise glowing coat.

I've tried medication, scolding him, distracting him, but like I, he reaches for what seems a panacea for what itches, that gap that needs to be filled. Nervous tic or disgusting habit? Who knows, and what does it matter?

I think of my character and his stubborn, dark side.

It's only a book, I tell myself. Just a friggin' book.

I look into Chewy's dark amber eyes, and he opens his mouth and pants lightly, almost as if he's smiling at me. It's impossible not to smile back.

Oh, chew your stupid butt until it bleeds, I think uncharitably, switching in midstream to silently scold my character who sits waiting for me on the computer. Same for you, buddy.

I stare at the cigarette. How about a little moderation this time? I ask myself. One cigarette instead of three or four...then you go back inside and write. I keep watching Chewy's eyes. Maybe I'll allow him one or two licks, not the Underwood Typewriter tch-tch-tch-tch-tch-tch, ding (as he gets to the end of his spine while nibbling then proceeds to start up high and glance his fangs down his back again).

Maybe I'll allow my character some leeway as well. None of us are getting out of here alive, but maybe our quality of life won't suffer so much if we all get at least a bit of what we want.



At 6:21 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

So I read your post, then left the computer to have a smoke (under the stove vent, not outside - too cold). Power of suggestion.
Can't help with your uncooperative character who is giving you fits but have to say that your post was beautifully written. I'm a sucker for dog stories and that was a beaut.
As for your "existential" musings - yes and yes...

At 12:28 AM, Anonymous raine said...

Lyn, bless your heart, I love ya.

Your post reminded me so much of a cat I rescued, also bound for euthenasia. After weeks of care he survived, and turned out to be one of the great loves of my life.

So maybe you could give your character a little leeway. Maybe he'll turn out to be the same for you. ;-)

At 10:20 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Beautiful dog rescue story. I had a friend years ago who rescued all types of animals and kept them in her home. She loved each one for it's personality and spunk like they were her own children and any available money went to vet bills. We can't have animals in our house because of hub's allergies so my boys loved to go help out my friend with her "orphans".

At 2:32 PM, Blogger Mechele Armstrong said...

Beautiful dog rescue story.

And yep had characters who just won't do what they are supposed to.

Mechele aka Lany of Melany Logen

At 7:15 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

why don't my posts go through?
Awwwooooooo! I hate the new blogger!
Anyhow, love the doggy story!
LOL about the feisty character.

At 8:01 AM, Blogger Trace said...

You're friggin' awesome. I lubz ya, chica. And I know what you mean about the stubborn, rebellious characters. They make you tear your hair out. Talk about bald patches!

At 7:17 PM, Blogger Michele said...

That is a wonderful story - perserverance was surely rewarded,both you and the pup.

As far as your character. I keep trying to write a character and I get stuck..what would a guy really say? I keep waiting for the voices, but they're never there.
So, I type along .. sometimes it runs dry and only once the guy took offense to my calling him by his familiar name. I was to call him "Mr" until I earned the right not to.
Do men have PMS?



Post a Comment

<< Home

Sunday, December 10, 2006

It's ALMOST Christmas

Retirement Planning

If you had purchased $1000.00 of Nortel stock one year ago, it would now be worth $49.00.

With Enron, you would have had $16.50 left of the original $1,000.00.

With WorldCom, you would have had less than $5.00 left.

With Lucent, you would have $3.50 left of the original $1000.00

But, if you had purchased $1,000.00 worth of beer one year ago, drank all the beer, then turned in the cans for the aluminum recycling REFUND, you would have had $214.00. Based on the above, the best current investment advice is to drink heavily and recycle. It's called the 401-Keg Plan.

now for a holiday recipe

18-20 lb. Turkey
2 cups melted butter
2 bags of stuffing (Pepperidge Farm is Good.)
2 cups uncooked popcorn
Salt/pepper to taste

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Brush turkey well with melted butter salt, and pepper. Fill cavity with stuffing and popcorn. Place in baking pan with the neck end toward the back of the oven. Listen for the popping sounds. When the turkey's ass blows the oven door open and
the turkey flies across the room, it's done.

And, you thought I couldn't cook...


Think you’ve had trouble getting technical support before? Read this. AOL to close their last call center.

THANK YOU LIVVIE for the info on whipping my wrinkled old behind back into shape (see previous post about my ass if you dare). I have the weights, so am starting this routine this afternoon. *grin*

To everyone who is visiting my blog today, here's a little message just for you.

Here is the original link, in case you wish to send this to others.

Shout-Outs to Janet & Helen for today's cartoons.



At 6:29 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

As a visitor to your blog today, thanks for the "special" thanks. Very cool.

I checked out the advice from your friend about re-hauling sagging asses. I have the weights (they belong to my kids) and I have the legs (still) but I'm terrified as to what damage I may cause doing the lunges. I'll either fall, get stuck or wreck my back. This is a no-win situation.

At 10:26 PM, Blogger Jennifer said...

Hi Lyn,

Love the cartoons. And I can sure use the sagging ass tips. All my sitting in front of the computer lately has done its damage. Saw your post on my blog. I have been a bad blogger but am going to give a another go. Hope you'll drop by!

At 9:03 AM, Blogger Lyn Cash said...

Beth, it's always a pleasure to see you here. And, Jennifer, I'm not the greatest blogger - but enjoy it when you drop in. Fully intend on checking your blog more often, too.

At 10:09 PM, Blogger Shesawriter said...


That santa picture is sick! ROFLMAO!


At 8:24 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thank you for being such a fun blogger!!
LOL about the turkey and the popcorn. I'm a dismal cook so I didn't catch on to the joke until the very end!

At 2:36 PM, Blogger Mechele Armstrong said...

Love the cartoon!!


Post a Comment

<< Home

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Happy Birthday, CJ!!!!!!!!!!

To misquote Helen: My cup runneth over...sadly, I'm wearing a white lace dress.
Hope the day is a blast, CJ! No puking on the cat, though!



At 7:22 PM, Blogger Michele said...

I'll second the sentiment,
Happy B-Day, CJ!!!
Hope you were pampered on your special day!


Post a Comment

<< Home

Help! My ass has fallen and can’t get up!

I had the most depressing bathing experience of my life this morning. Just before I stepped into the shower, I caught my reflection, and I wondered when that woman with the wrinkled old ass had gotten behind me.

WTF? I walk! A lot! I climb stairs. I’ve lost weight. So WTF indeed?

Upon further examination, I came to the realization that my mind and heart had traveled north and my ass had stayed in Oklahoma. Before the ritual was over, I was terrified to look down, fearing my ankles might have migrated to Mexico. When the hell had this happened?

It’s what you get, I told myself, for sniggering about Michael Douglas’s saggy southern hemisphere in
Basic Instinct. (Seems someone else agrees with me – lol.) Too bad you don’t have his gazillions so you can buy a new one. *sigh* Okay, enough with the not-so-cromulent comments about Mr. Douglas’s butt.

I should have known when X proclaimed for anyone to hear at a writers’ conference in Reno that she meant it literally when she said “This woman has no ass.” She wasn’t being kind, telling me I was losing weight – she was being dead-on honest. The SOB is just friggin’ gone, and I’m a tad slow in catching on to that fact.

I suppose it could be
worse. *rolls eyes* No, thanks. I’ll keep my wrinkled form as it is. I’m just thankful I never got that rose tattooed on the left cheek—it’d be a hibiscus by now.



At 3:35 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm having a not-so-good day. Checking your blog has made it better. I had that "checking the ass" experience a year ago. Have never looked back - so to speak. (The stuff of scary movies...)
I am still laughing at the rose/hibiscus tattoo visual.

Thanks - you live up to your blog name.

At 7:18 PM, Blogger Michele said...

No Ass?
That's a problem?
I think a tattoo anywhere is a risky thing.
Flabby arms, saggy boobs, shifting tummys and elastogen depletion wreck havoc with any work of ink art.
I saw a female cop, about 70 years old (Heck she was a Sharpei in wrinkles) directing traffic in a small town. She was COVERED in tattoos.

Somehow your hibiscus is better sounding than a blurred panorama of colors a la Burt the Chimney sweep from Mary Poppins.

( you rememmber, when it rained and the colors all rain together to make a smooshy mess?)

OK, so I'm stretching it.

I still enjoyed your post.
But WOW , were you on a roll with posts today.

At 10:12 AM, Blogger Lyn Cash said...

Beth, I've just spent the last 30 minutes reading your blog and that of your friend Trish. Kewl stuff.

THANKS - lol. To you, as well, Michele. I'm a goober, most likely, for even posting about such a thing, but the freakin' shock was still with me when I wrote. *snigger*

At 12:59 PM, Blogger Amie Stuart said...

You are not alone *g* S'all I'm saying

At 2:15 AM, Blogger Lyn Cash said...

geezus, Michele - a sharpei directing traffic - I am still working on repeating that to myself without cracking up...

Bless you, Ames.

Thing that bugs the crap outta me is that I'm fat as a bear everywhere else, or so it seems. Just lost the rear.

At 7:02 AM, Anonymous lyvvie said...

Oh OH! I know the best bum exercise that'll have those cheeks perky in no time - weighted lunges! Honest. Trust me, I'm a professional. Get a couple of five pound weights, one for each hand and do ten lunges each leg. You'll feel it the next day, but give it eight weeks of twice a week lunging and you'll have no more saggy bits and that rose will be blooming beautiful.

At 10:27 PM, Blogger Lyn Cash said...

Lyvvie, THANKS! (I realize I misspelled your name on today's blog - need to correct that, but just in case you checked back here, THANK YOU!)

Any advice for Beth? (She blogged on today's blog - worried about her back, which I can see as a concern for a few...including moi, but...I'm doing it and asking questions later - lol. Typical of me.)


Post a Comment

<< Home

Speaking of Movies…

The Kid is bringing home the first season of Rome. I loved Taylor Caldwell’s novels of ancient Greece and Rome, always enjoyed mythology, even took advanced courses of Shakespearean literature in college. I have never, however, thought of the Caesars and Pompeii in quite this light. The characterizations are excellent.

Of the two main Roman soldier characters, you might recognize Lucius
from “Trainspotting”.



Post a Comment

<< Home

Interesting Song Lyrics


"When The President Talks To God"

When the president talks to God
Are the conversations brief or long?
Does he ask to rape our women’s' rights
And send poor farm kids off to die?
Does God suggest an oil hike
When the president talks to God?

When the president talks to God
Are the consonants all hard or soft?
Is he resolute all down the line?Is every issue black or white?
Does what God say ever change his mind
When the president talks to God?

When the president talks to God
Does he fake that drawl or merely nod?
Agree which convicts should be killed?
Where prisons should be built and filled?
Which voter fraud must be concealed
When the president talks to God?

When the president talks to God
I wonder which one plays the better cop
We should find some jobs. the ghetto's broke
No, they're lazy, George, I say we don't
Just give 'em more liquor stores and dirty coke
That's what God recommends.

When the president talks to God
Do they drink near beer and go play golf
While they pick which countries to invade
Which Muslim souls still can be saved?
I guess God just calls a spade a spade
When the president talks to God.

When the president talks to God
Does he ever think that maybe he's not?
That that voice is just inside his head
When he kneels next to the presidential bed
Does he ever smell his own bullshit
When the president talks to God?

I doubt it

I doubt it



Post a Comment

<< Home

The Smut Shuffle

Okay, so this is a writer’s blog, so here’s the latest scoop on what the writer is doing.

December shall be spent doing edits. Hopefully, I’ll also get to pen a few new words. January seems to be when my rolling stone starts gathering speed. That’s when Cash Cole’s
first male/male romance hits, and Bobbie Cole’s second mainstream debuts in ebook form. February heralds the print edition of Just Desserts hitting bookstores, and that’s also when I’ll be teaching a 2-week course on writing confessions.

This month, I’ll have to be content with Playgirl extrapolating on Just Desserts.



At 10:53 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wish I could "take" your two week course on writing confessions. So far, three of mine have been accepted but more tips would help.

(I got tired of writing "literary" stuff for little or no money. I like getting cheques in the mail.)


Post a Comment

<< Home

Total-e-bound eBooks