Why I Hate TV

I hate TV.

Not the machine itself, but the idiotic stuff it airs.

I separated from my ex-husband in mid-September 1991. I got the the 3 kids, the business, and some furniture. He got the house and the TV. I hated TV back then and figured it was worth it to give him the house to get rid of the TV. (I did want the kids.) I hate TV so much, in fact, it took my [then] 10, 11, and 13 year-olds eight weeks after the separation to convince me to buy them another one. They couldn't convince me to buy a remote control though; it's an evil thing and promotes couch-potatoism.

This morning, I heard two DJs talking on the radio about how they like most of the the reality TV shows on TV. They did discuss two reality shows they hate. Tell me, how are "reality" TV shows realistic?

What's life-like about dropping a bunch of people off on an island and putting them through a tests like eating bugs, swimming in water with octopuses (or is it octupi?), and stuff like that?

What's realistic about tossing a bachelor (or bachelorette) together with a dozen members of the opposite sex with the expectation that after all kinds of silliness, he (or she) will fall and love and live happily ever after with one of the dirty dozen? If happily-ever-after were that easy, wouldn't our mothers have just tossed us in a room with twelve of their favorites years ago?

And what about wife-swapping? Like it happens in real life the way they portray it on reality TV shows...

When I was a kid, my parents watched Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea and the Waltons. Even then, I thought those shows were stupid. Like a bunch of guys really lived their entire lives, week after week, in a submarine underwater. No women, no kids, no dogs, no cats. Right. And the Waltons. My parents were never that nice. Don't get me wrong, my parents were great. But my dad yelled once in a while. My mom got cranky--a lot. (She had 4 kids. It makes sense now.) And my brothers were NOTHING like John-Boy...

I preferred spending time alone in my room, playing paper dolls, reading, lip-syncing to the songs on the record player, or--better yet, writing stories.

Still do.

Only difference, these days, is that my kid sister doesn't piece together the ripped pages of my rough drafts after she digs them out of the trash. She can't--she lives 2,700 miles away!

Writers and Their Pets

Does it seem to you that most writers are also animal lovers? Just about every writer I know has a handful of critters hanging around the house: dogs, cats, parrots, gerbils...

Is it because our critters provide us with love, attention, and silence--which makes them far more attractive as roommates?

Is it because of our tendency toward solitary pursuits, either by choice or requirements of the profession?

Or is it something else? Share your thoughts with me, I'm curious.

P.S. Delaney, Charlotte, and Max follow me everywhere (into the bathroom, if I let them!) and are, as we speak, warming my feet.

P.P.S. The two feathered creatures, especially the loud, noisy one, belong to my husband. It was simply an anomaly that I taught Miss Big Mouth to say Hi, dad!

WHERE Do You Come Up With Your Ideas?

No, I'm not asking you the same question people ask us writers all the time, How do you come up with your ideas?

I'm asking WHERE - as in, physically, geographically. WHERE is your body, and what is it doing, when your best ideas come to mind?

Behind the wheel of your Subaru when you're tooling at 75 MPG on the interstate? During the 10-minute breaks you get each hour when you're making an eight-hour business presentation? Aha, the shower, right? What about when you're horizontal beneath the sheets and unconscious? (I don't know about you, but my unconscious mind works WAY better than my conscious mind. Is that a sign of age? No, don't answer that.)

Most of my best ideas come to me when I'm physically doing something OTHER than writing and generally don't have access to a pen and paper. (Or that wonderful memo tool on my cell phone!)

WHERE are YOU when your best ideas zap that light bulb picture above your head?

Perks of Writing in the Mountains

Mom with her newborn twins; she allowed my husband within 12 feet to take the family photo. Last week, a different doe gave birth to a single fawn in our yard in a different location. Although this happens every spring, we never tire of it.

The twins were born yesterday, 6/10/09; their fur is still damp in this photo.

Young Mr. Moose visited us for the first time in the fall of 2007 when he was a baby. This shot was taken last Friday, 6/5/09.

NOW, do you understand why I spend so much time looking out the windows or sitting on the front porch?

Carolina Conspiracy Blog

Many thanks to the authors of the Carolina Conspiracy Blog for inviting me as a guest blogger this week.

Here's a link to my article, What Next? http://carolinaconspiracyblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/conspiracy-welcomes-author-linda-m.html