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Sunday, April 25, 2010

You: Hey, where you been? Me: Thanks for asking.

Hey there Random Thinkers,

I thought I should check in and explain my extended absence.  Although by the sheer fact that not one of you came looking for me, I humor myself to think I NEED to explain my absence.  It's not like I'm the only blog in town I know.

Here's the scoop.  I'm writing a book.  Yea, what blogger isn't.

I've been writing this book in my head for almost a year.  It's only been in the last 3 months that I can say it out loud. Just seeing the sentence, I'm writing a book in black and white makes it real.  I've put it out into the universe and now I have to do something with it. 

I planned the debut of my "I'm writing a book phase." I sat with a great pen and a full tablet and I began to release all of the random thoughts, categories, stories, chapter headings, reasons, and cover ideas onto paper.  It was a scary looking, mind mapped, spider web.   The more I wrote, the more ideas came, the more excited I became, the more real it is. I began picking up the phone and calling people I wanted to interview and get help from.  I sent emails asking to schedule time with them.  The act of picking up the phone and sending out the emails made it more than a doodling exercise with purpose.  It made me an author.  Somehow this was important to me for the process to evolve and grow.

I've called myself a writer since 7th grade in Mrs. Garvey's class. I've been writing a journal and a blog for years.  Writing is fun. Writing is non threatening. Writing is a hobby.  I love being a writer and sometimes you give me feedback that says you even like to read it.

Being an author feels different.  By calling myself an author, I feel more responsible for my craft. I feel accountable to produce something.  I feel responsible to produce something with purpose. I feel responsible to take a years worth of ideas, sort them into an outline that makes sense and fill in the gaps so one day I can actually sit down and write.  Write with purpose and write for a cause I believe in. 

You see since I made that switch in my head, from writer of random thoughts, to an author, I am spending more time organizing those thoughts and doing lots of research to fill in the gaps.  It's kind of like saying you're pregnant, 9 months from then, you better produce a baby.  The gestational period for my book is likely way more than 9 months, but I now need to produce something and that's where I've been.

Rebecca Hession
Not Wrong, Just Different
"coming soon to a bookstore near you"

Friday, April 2, 2010

To the white legged girls across the Midwest

Ah yes ladies, it's that time of year again.  April in the Midwest.  Time for us to bring out the big box to stash away the wool and weather-wear. We open the windows and have the joyful celebration to put away the hats and mittens and snowball maker and sleds that are now stuck in the mud in the backyard.

And then with great anticipation we wake up to that first day in the 70 degree mark and we pull out ...........the capris.  Yes ladies it's that time of year when we must take a moment and shave what's been covered and do a little 'leg preview' for the season.  Just that 3 inches shorter that says, Spring is here.

The introduction of the capri, formerly known as the peddle pusher, gave us great freedom in the midwest.  I remember the days growing up that the jump from jeans to shorts was sometimes a traumatic one.  Those gangly-legged middle school years when the first shock of white legs with a few bruises and scrapes took some real guts.  You called your friends to make sure this was their 'leg preview' day as well.

Then the high school years. The first day of shorts was the real sign of who was rich enough to have gone on Spring Break. Those girls were already sporting tan legs and shoulders in their tank top.  If you had been one of those left behind, you laid on a blanket in the backyard where no one could see you, hoping for some ray of sunshine to transform your goose bump ashen white legs into the long beautiful brown ones that your friend would come home with.   Later came the tanning bed years that equaled the playing field a bit but that's not a subject I care to take on.

 I personally don't own a pair of capris but I couldn't swing a cat yesterday in Indianapolis without hitting some female wearing them.  I came home last night to a tearful 8 year old because she was the ONLY, yes the one and ONLY girl that didn't wear capris yesterday. (Enter sounds of pathetic sobbing here)
Being the scrappy one that she is, she tore through the garage sale basket in the attic looking for a remnant of last years capri-ness.  She scoured the closet for something that just wasn't there.  Then finally in a shining moment of brilliance she landed on the perfect solution!  Eureka! She pulled out the faded pair of jeans with the little hole in the knee that had been just a little too short for awhile now and said those magic words. Mom, PLEASE can we cut these off into capris?  Yes, she's a problem solver.  I didn't tell her that young girls across the midwest had been playing the "jeans and scissors" game since the beginning of suburbs and baseball practice.  I smiled and said, "Sure we can do that."

So with marker in hand I stood while she contemplated the exact right length of her new pair of capris.  Once cut, she smiled with satisfaction, and then did the thing we always did next. She looked at that little strip of blue jean and said, "I can make that into a ponytail thing."  Yes, you can.  And she did. Like all the white legged girls before her.

So off to school she went sportin' her new capris to fit in with the masses.  And if one snotty girl makes a comment about her 'home-made' capris, you'll need to hold me back.

So today, we stand ceremoniously and salute the capri and it's longevity into the midwest fashion staple category.

Happy Spring, Random Thinkers!