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Showing posts from March, 2012

“Things Every Southern Woman Should Know How to Make”

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Alice clicked on the headline, mildly curious about what yet another stranger thought should be in her kitchen repertoire. Pictures of China plates mounded with crispy fried chicken, greens, cobbler, and a pile of biscuits a mile high flooded the screen, all set off with a pitcher of sweet tea beaded with condensation. The table was set; an apron draped off to the side next to a box labeled “Gramma’s Recipes” in fine calligraphy. She closed the browser and put away her tablet. She was born a Georgia peach, but she couldn’t make a cobbler to save her life. Did that mean she wasn’t southern? Or maybe just not “Southern.” For Alice, there was no recipe box full of family traditions. Her younger years were filled with rental homes in different states and her father’s voice coaxing her toward a text book rather than a cookbook. Metalworking and fabrication held more interest than learning to flambé or sauté. Did it make her less of a woman that her cooking skills consisted of fresh salads
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Final Fantasy VII: My Gateway Game

I am a late-bloomer when it comes to gaming. I’d played one here and there (mostly at my younger brother’s insistence) but I never really enjoyed one until I was in my senior year of high school. That’s when two of my friends forced upon me a game featuring a spiky-haired guy with a really big sword. I’ve been hooked ever since. For me, Final Fantasy VII was like an interactive book. There was plenty to read with all of the written dialog, and though it had a main story line, it was sort of Choose-Your-Adventure with the free-roam world. Because I wasn’t a game-player and really not good at mashing buttons under pressure, the turn-base style allowed me to actually get somewhere on the game. And the materia system? Still my favorite magic system ever. I loved this game…but then I got stuck. And started dreaming about how I was going to get around the giant SNAKE in the marsh. I couldn’t catch a chocobo for the life of me. Then graduation and tests and college applications swa
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The Pitfall of Internet Immediacy

Something you read makes you mad. Someone directs a comment to you that you find offensive. What do you do? Most people’s reaction—I’m guilty, too—is to smart off in return. Unfortunately, the internet makes it all too easy for us to spout off things we later regret. With the various outlets to express ourselves, we really must learn to watch those impulse replies. Not only do they often result in shame, they accomplish nothing. Except maybe to feed the trolls. Don’t feed the trolls. If something makes you really angry, walk away. Shut off the internet, shut down the computer if you must, and take a breather. Decide if it’s even worth your time. Most things aren’t. If it’s something you absolutely have to respond to, wait. An hour, a day, a week, if that’s what it takes for you to calm down. Then open up your word processing program (not the comment or reply on the web site!) and write what you need to say. Read it. Walk away and read it again. If by now, you feel confident your
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Criticism

Something I’ve learned, not only from my tentative prodding of the publishing world, but from life in general, is that we will receive criticism. Whether it’s on our looks, job performance, or in many of our cases, our art. And I’ve learned, particularly with the last one, that I must be prepared for it. I am a writer. I want to share my characters and their lives and loves and adventures with every last person willing to read about them. And I want them to love them as much as I do. Some people do love them, think they’re perfect and wondrous… and some not so much. What do I do with the not-so-much people? I accept their criticism with a thank you and see what I can learn from it. They aren’t always right. They’re not always kind. Some may be harsh without realizing they are harsh. But if nothing else, I know that that person is not my target audience. I’ll admit even constructive criticism given gently can spark the urge to knock my head against the desk a couple times in frustrati
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