Manipulation, Cliff Hangers, and Resumes

Yesterday Jeremy and I were talking about cliff hangers. As a rule I hate cliff hangers. I like chapters because they provide a natural stopping place that makes it easier to stop reading and also makes it easier to find your spot when you pick up again. Cliff hangers, in general, are designed to make you keep reading. When I set a book down in the middle I almost always pick it up again. My putting the book down isn't an insult to the book's excitement or pacing it just means I have a life and things I need to do, other than read (which is sometimes a pity). I decided I hate cliff hangers so much because I feel like the author is manipulating me into challenging my own will power. And too often works. Perhaps if I wasn't so easily swayed by cliff hangers I would hate them less....
Anyway, the overall point to this is I feel like cliff hangers are manipulative (in general) where other writing tactics such as having well developed and engrossing characters or a compelling plot are more about influencing you to keep reading. Influencing isn't nearly so repugnant as manipulating! It's a good thing. I mean what would any form of art be, without the motive of influencing the viewer?
I realized that my hatred of talking myself up and resumes, etc along with being a form of defense might also go back to my hatred of manipulation. I feel like people talk about resumes as a form of manipulation. I don't like that.
But why do I hate manipulation so much anyway. I mean sure it isn't great but why does it offend me? Sometimes I wish I could think of a single childhood experience that would explain the way I am...

Children in Literature

I have read several books lately with prominent children characters and they have all felt a little unrealistic, which seems to be fairly common in literature. The children are either too oblivious and/or dumb (Boy in the Striped Pajamas) or to perfect (Little Men). It seems weird that writing accurate children is such a common problem considering all authors were children at some point. So here are a couple of suppositions admit why I think children might be difficult to write.
There seems to be something about the human mind that has a hard time remembering what it was like to not remember or understand certain things. It's one thing to remember when you learned something but quite another to remember what it felt like. I remember staying up late pondering and pondering how my parents could be named Mommy and Daddy as well as have other real names. Thank goodness for my brother's friend who had the same name as my father, that was my break through. Despite remembering this though I have no idea how I would portray this realization in a first point of view of a child and not make myself sound really dumb.
Plus children develop so quickly that unless you are frequently around them it is difficult to gauge whether a child character is acting age appropriately. Once I wrote about a 4 year old "tottering" around. I was quickly advised that 2 year olds totter, 4 year olds run.
It impresses me all the more when you come across an author who accurately portrays children, and even more impressed when the children grow up accurately.

A Field Journal of Danger and Destitution: Or Grocery Shopping During the Covid-19 Pandemic*

March 14
Disaster has struck. The shelves that once held bread, ketchup, cereal, mac&cheese, noodles, frozen food and cans of soup, vegetables, and tomato products can only be identified by a lonely dented box, or a forlorn can. The "bath tissue" aisle is a barren wasteland. Shower scrubbies hanging from empty shelves are the forgotten banners of an abandoned battlefield.
Glory be! The fresh vegetables are untouched, and a few bags of tortillas remain.

March 24
Possibly, but unlikely infected, are we in danger? or are we the danger?
Don't over shop! But where are the people?
Signs posted everywhere warn of rationing. Only two boxes of eggs, containers of hand soap, and packages of toilet paper are allowed per person. Too bad those items have already been hunted to extinction.
Other signs proclaim a curfew to protect us? or them? from the ravenous hoards.

March 31
Fourteen days, and the danger has been neutralized.
War paint dispensers stand at the doors. Workers wipe down each cart touched by a human finger.
Cereal, and noodles have returned to the shelves.

April 3
Fellow combatants shield their faces. Lines are drawn in the sand.... on the floor, with tape.
Over the loud speaker they announce "Stay two carts away from each other or the world will die!"
Do we fear the enemy? or each other?

April 11
The war paint and the wipes have disappeared. A thin layer of plastic in the form of a loose plastic glove is all that stands between me and infection. I'll take infection.
Aisles have returned to normal except for that of the toilet paper. It remains a scar on the otherwise restocked shelves.
Mounds of water bottles sit untouched and ignored. Unless of course, they are gone by tomorrow.






*Sometimes fake drama is entertaining :)

More Experience, Less Planning?

It has been a long time since I've done an actual sewing project and not just a small something with needle and thread. And I don't think I've ever done a sewing project without someone with significantly more experience handy to give me advice and help.
That's why I'm out of practice.
But I tried my hand at sewing again and I made these covers for some hassocks that I'm recyling/making. The first one I cut out on one day and then spent 2 or 3 other days sewing it haphazardly, with a lot of unpicking. As a child I had a fierce aversion to pins, and I refused to use them in my sewing projects.... when I finally succeeded in some satisfactory corners this time around it was only because I finally sunk to such depths as to actually use pins. They were very helpful, and I think I only stuck myself once!
I realized a lot of things I go into a little haphazardly. As in I'll just chuck some shapes together in inkscape and they play around with them a bit and I just expect them to work out and look good enough.
Or I sketch something halfway and then play around with paint on top of it until I think it looks decent. But I don't generally plan out my projects in detail before I just kind of go for it. That is probably why I will never become a truly skilled artist. I don't want to put in the work.
But I'm usually fairly satisfied with the outcome, so it works.
However, sewing doesn't seem to work quite as well with this approach. I'm assuming that has more to do with my lack of experience and expertise then with sewing, because I'm pretty sure that is how my sister sews...
My second hassock I cut out, and pinned and sewed all in the same day without any unpicking... crazy what a little experience, and a little bit of slowing down can accomplish!

Habits and Productivity

I hear people talk about hos hard it is for them to read their scriptures everyday, or have morning prayers or remember to do certain things. I have a hard time relating to that because I'm so habit driven. When I start a habit, it's pretty easy to continue... Then I married Jeremy.
He is not a habit person. He struggles to create habits, and once he's started them, it is easy for him to fall out of the habit again. This is like a real thing! I'm apparently just weird, that habits are so defined for me.
Kind of related: I have always been more productive in the morning. I find it a lot harder to be disciplined and motivated in the evenings. I have recently started to use this to my advantage and I've started going in to work later so that I can work on my writing in the morning. Jeremy is more productive in the evenings. He doesn't like to read his scriptures in the morning because he doesn't get as much out of it. It's a little mind boggling for me.
These differences have been really good for me to see, and I think it makes me more sympathetic to people who struggle with creating habits and are not very productive in the morning.
What??? People aren't all the same???

Chitons: Memories and Learning

A couple of weeks ago we went to California and we got to go to the beach.
We went tidepooling... or investigating around tide pools. I don't remember ever doing that before on the Pacific Ocean. It was really fun and I enjoyed using my waterproof camera.

Closed anemone without a pebble covering

Partially closed anemone with pebble covering, (they were usually covered with sand and pebbles when they were out of the water to protect themselves from drying out and predators.

Open anemone

Bivalves on rocks

Chiton (the green one in the groove or "home scar". They are a type of mollusk with 8 plates and they crawl around when the tide is in and eat algae and other stuff, (herbivores) with their "radula" (tongue) that is encrusted with magnetite. This means their tongue is very raspy and so they can eat stuff by rasping it off the rocks.

Here is a chiton so you can see the underside. (not my thumb :) )

Here is a snail that had pretty green flesh. Jeremy is good at finding stuff like this. I like doing stuff like this with him.

Here is a fish who really thought he was camouflaged but I got really close.

Swimming crab

Anyway, it was really fun and reminded me a lot of some books my Mom used to read to me by Holling Clancy Holling, particularly "Pagoo" which talks about tide pool life. It made me want to read it again.

Also I was fascinated by the chitons and had to do some research about them. They are weird little critters. I couldn't find out anywhere if they actually carve out little holes for themselves or if just by returning to the same spot all the time they cause a hole to form. Almost all of the ones we saw, and we found a lot, were in little holes.

Winter War

Storm swoops in

Snow's ally

Troops cover the ground

Lay siege to the world

Conquest

Snowmen rally

The honor guard

Sun's Herald charges

Clouds retreat

Snowdrifts fade

Honor guard stands alone

Storm's return their only hope

Unrelenting Sun

Water drips to ground

Snow's Defeat

​

The day of a big storm I was waiting at my bus stop, right in front of a carwash. Between customers (because people were washing clean cars while it was snowing????) one of the car wash attendants made this snowman. The next couple of days I watched as the snowman melted, and I wrote the poem above. I think it is really cool when creativity inspires creativity.