HIGHER EDUCATION

As a college dropout: Because - I refuse to go into massive debt; waste time writing crap for people who will read my essays once and then give me a score like a Russian figure skating judge; or hear one more time why Republicans suck, Mormons are bigots, and that I should donate tons of money back to the institution that spawned me should I ever graduate and get RICH . . . oops, sorry, as a college dropout I like to reflect on my years in higher education. 

NOTE: I can use semi-colons according to one of my professors for emphasis, while another of my teachers said that semi-colons are out because they’re ugly.

Anyway, I like to reflect. 

One of the moments I like to reflect on from my experience as a higher education student is of my friend. We’ll call her Morning Glory. She was wicked funny and a lesbian and a comrade and a left wing liberal down to her communist comrade hat. I loved her, and we laughed—a lot.

One day, I walked into class. Morning Glory looked at me, a quizzical expression on her face. 

She said, “What is it with you?” And then she made a circling gesture over her face. 

Puzzled at first, I touched my face and then realized she was asking me how I could come into class, smiling, a lot.

“What?” I said, “Happy?”

“Yeah, that.” And then she narrowed her eyes at me and said, “And don’t tell me that you are high on Jesus.”

“Okay,” I said and sat.

Here’s the funniest part of the story, I would never use the phrase ‘high on Jesus.’ It’s not in my lexicon.

Here’s the saddest part of the story, that my friend was so unacquainted with happiness that she did not know it when she saw it plastered across my face every morning.

Ahhhhhh, higher education! So much knowledge, so little learning . . .

I’m thinking of transferring to BYU Hawaii to finish up. I hear the weather is lovely.

Linda (4.0) Zern

REVIEWS AND YOU!

Write a book. I dare you. It’s a labor of blood, sweat, and tears, and sometimes, actual blood dribbles down into the keyboard, gumming up the works and sending authors racing to the Apple Store for new stuff like a laptop. But mostly, it’s a labor of tears and sweat. After that, there’s a book and it’s beautiful and lovely and of good report.

And then the reviews come in.

“The descriptions are amazing. I could smell, hear, taste, and touch the humidity.”

“There could have been more description of humidity.”

“The action lagged in only one spot.”

“The action was almost too much. I liked when the characters sat around and talked.”

“Too hot.”

“Too cold.”

“Too many bears.”

And so it goes . . .

Seriously, and so it goes . . .

I love feedback from readers and reviews are publishing’s lifeblood, but there’s a trick to keeping reviews in perspective. Don’t try. 

Don’t misunderstand. I am a big believer in studying and refining craft. I have about a hundred books on writing to prove it, but honestly it’s a crapshoot trying to get the number of bears right for every single person that will pick up and read your book. 

It’s important to know that the world is full of experts, critics, and people with peeves. 

Keep writing.

Keep in mind that every reader brings his or her own experiences and hang-ups to the story. 

“You’re such a nice lady. How do you write about such terrible things happening to children . . . and bears?”

“Too much cussing.”

“Not enough cussing.”

Just keep writing.

“Cliff hangers make me breathe hard and dream furry dreams.”

Keep on writing.

“Why aren’t there fifty shades of gray zombies in your story?”

Write and write and write.

Then, on a fine humid day full of expectation and lemonade, a reader will grab you by the shoulders and say, “Linda! Your book! I couldn’t put it down!” making you run not walk back to the keyboard and proving that crying blood-sweat to get your story told is a small price to pay.

Then sit down and write.

Linda (Keyed Up) Zern

DISCLAIMER: All the above quotes are fictional and represent no actual opinions from any actual readers about any actual review stuff. Mostly, it’s based on smart aleck stuff my kids have said. Sigh. 

TALKING POLITICS: THE RULES

After the last national election I had to block about a thousand people from my social network. I didn’t want to, but I had to. I don’t enjoy people dancing on other people’s graves. It hurts my heart, and aren’t hearts the most important organ of the body: full of feelings, and emotions, and irrational hurts, and liberal amounts of sentimentality.

Except the heart isn’t the most important organ of the body, and feelings aren’t centered in it. Feelings originate in our brains. Hearts beat to serve the brain.Emotions are a product of our gray matter . . . or they should be.

Anyway, after the last election when my “friends” chortled and exulted and rubbed their candidates’ wins in my face (after warning me not to chortle or exult or rub their faces in it should my candidate win) I realized that double standards have become the norm in all things politic. Therefore, I have been working on a set of rules for discussing politics for the coming contest.

Rule #1. Everyone gets to talk up why they like his or her candidate without fear of being blindsided by strangers. To be allowed to crap on your guy or gal, individuals out there in the cyber jungle have to be able to name one of the following: the title of one of my books, the title of one of my blogs, the name of my youngest child. Please state your name, party affiliation, and major hangups for the record.

Rule #2. Arguments for or against a candidate should be backed up with logical discussion of the individual’s background and philosophy. For example: “I like Hitler because he can really get a crowd going, he is super popular, and he’s Time Magazine’s Man of the Year” are not acceptable.

Rule #3. Full discloser is absolutely required. “I think this guy [or gal] will buy all my toilet paper for the rest of my life, and I’ve already worked that into my budget,” or “He’s my boss!” are acceptable declarations. “I’m still waiting for the first Clinton to pay for two years of community college for my kids like he promised,” is also acceptable.

Rule #4. Cynicism encouraged. “I’m not sure any human being can—with the force of his or her personality—fix everyone’s everything. I’d have to see the spreadsheet on that.” Candidates are just people, folks.

Rule #5. Name-calling is right out. Smart, sharp witty comments are right in. Whining prohibited. Double standards will be highlighted, targeted, and blown to cynical bits.

Rule #5-A. Using the number 19 trillion in a sentence is encouraged. For example: I have 19 trillion questions I’d like to ask American voters who think that coming to the potluck dinner without bringing any food but expecting to eat is a winning, helpful, sustainable lifestyle.

Rule #6. Understand that I believe that compromising with evil is never a win. I believe that absolutes like good and evil actually exist and that humans are capable of free will, and that wickedness will never be happiness (even if someone else pays for all the penicillin.)

Linda (Sister Suffragette) Zern