- This video of the 2016 Bosch parade in the Netherlands. It’s an annual thing. Bucket list.
- The mango tangerine scented candles from Trader Joes. My friend discovered these. I trust her judgement so I bought four. Going to need more.
- This article about the meanies who took to cyberbullying the parents when the kid fell into the gorilla pen.
- These drinking glasses from Target. For some reason I got mine on clearance for six bucks. I wasn’t sure I’d love them, but they feel very elegant. They make me happy.
- Living Life Beautifully by Christina Strutt. I hyperlinked to Amazon but get it from your local bookseller if you can.
- This post on making a travel journal. I love all things Pam Garrison, but this post really inspired me and I copied her and made a journal I’m pretty happy with.
- This girl. Men used to be “uncomfortable” when women showed a bit of ankle. And by the way, I’m “uncomfortable” when you wear a speedo at the beach. You’ll get over it. We’ve had to.
- This healthy breakfast I make every morning. A spoonful of Greek honey yogurt, granola, berries. It’s such a treat, and it’s good for you!
- CreativeBug. Unlimited online art classes for five bucks a month. So good.
- Her. So wise.
I’m currently reading a book which I’m liking very much, called Gossip of the Starlings by Nina de Gramont. It’s this beautifully written book about those rich sort of teenagers who burn too brightly, who gravitate toward excess, who fly too close to the sun. And as I read it, a certain indulgent feeling comes over me. This is a feeling only a few books have evoked in me over the years. A feeling like I’m lounging beside a pool, wearing a soft Calypso tunic, eating chocolate covered strawberries and drinking champagne.
This is certainly not the way I feel whenever I read books about rich people, or entitled people. Often stories about the very rich bore me, and I can’t stand those gossipy socialite novels one sometimes comes across. Then there’s this whole other genre of book; I’m thinking Valley of the Dolls for example, that is admittedly enjoyable but makes me feel dirty. Like sitting in an orange den in Echo Park with some coked up ex-model who shakily smokes a cigarette while I stuff french fries and milkshakes from McDonald’s down my throat. It’s not the worst way in the world to feel, but it ‘aint poolside in Saint Barth.
I was taking this over with a friend yesterday, and she brought up the movie Stealing Beauty, which we both love in an indulgent and guilty kind of way. Yes, it’s kind of like that. Or listening to Billy Holiday late at night. Or sleeping in on a warm spring day when the sheets are white and the windows are open and the curtains are billowing in the breeze (ooh, maybe I should add Gatsby to the list. [which follows])
I should say, these books that make me feel this way aren’t necessarily even among my favorites. They are rad and wonderful, but you won’t find most of my favorite writers’ work falling into this category. It’s a rare thing, this shimmer of luxury.
It occurs to me: the common thread is youth and carelessness. Perhaps this is the reason I write YA, although my characters are more angst and rain.
So I’ve composed a list, and here, for what it’s worth, is the list of books that feel like chocolate and champagne, at least to me, at least right now:
Gossip of the Starlings, hyperlink above
Chocolates for Breakfast by Pamela Moore (although I do remember being disappointed by the end.)
And here are a few bonus tracks.
(Parts of) The Bell Jar
(Parts of) We Were Liars by e. lockhart
How about you? What books are your Chocolate and Champagne?
- The youtube channel called “Yoga with Adriene“
- Larry Wilmore’s piece from The Nightly Show in regards to the conferderate flag. The video begins a little early; I heard it first on Fresh Air, beginning with the line: “It’s time for a segment we call, For the Record”
- This article about the bullies who make nasty comments on the internet from Sarah Hepola, as read to Terry Gross on Fresh Air
- Speaking of which, this video wherein men read horribly trolly comments written to women sportswriters by other men
- This candle from Capri Blue. The small votives from Anthropologie are great too
- This candle from Trapp
- the Gilmore Guys Podcast
- This rad Hieronymus Bosch interactive
- The book At Home With Madame Chic by Jennifer Scott
- Bullet Journaling! I’m hooked. I use my always fave notebook, a blank Moleskine What are you loving right now?
What does acting have to do with writing? In my experience, the two are rather similar. When I was in high school, I was in a really great theater program. You had to audition to get in, and the teacher was amazing and hard and sometimes a little mean. We loved her. She was the first teacher I ever had who made me work. I wanted to please her. She wanted, demanded, and succeeded in directing high school plays that were top quality. We were serious. We were all decent actresses and actors and we worked our butts off. This is, incidentally, the same way to become a good writer.
The teacher/director taught us the difference between acting and Acting! Acting! is John Lithgow and Jon Lovitz doing their Baudelaire skit on Saturday Night Live. “Acting! Genius! Thank you!” Okay, so you’re too young to remember it. Google it. Seriously. Go now.
That is Acting! Acting! is what you want to avoid. Similarly, Writing! is what you want to avoid. Writing is true and from the heart. Writing is not using a bunch of big words that no one can understand. That is Writing! Writing is not using metaphors that sound good but don’t work at all. It is not cliches and melodrama. Writing is you, not trying to please anyone, not trying to write like anyone else. Just pouring your heart onto the page. What could be simpler? Don’t force it. You will find your voice. I promise.
Okay so I was joking when I said What could be simpler. Pouring your heart onto the page may be one of the hardest things you may ever do. But if you are a writer, and you know it if you are, then you must do it. Start small. Baby steps. It does get easier.
One more thing about acting. I have always been able to write dialogue. I’m not saying this to brag, or because I even believe it wholeheartedly. But people have said this to me over and over again, from my very first writing workshop in college. “You know how to write dialogue.” I have heard people say that they wrote entire books without dialogue because they couldn’t figure out how to make the words ring true. I credit acting. I had to read a lot of plays when I was a teenager. I had to read them and audition them and ultimately memorize my part. And what are plays but dialogue? If you are stuck on dialogue, go read a play. Even better, choose a character (who is similar in age to you or the character you want to write about) and act that part out as you read through the play. You can do this quietly, all by your self. No one will ever have to know what you are doing. If you do it enough, the dialogue will come.
Whether you celebrate Christmas, Solstice, Hanukkah, Kwanza, none or all of the above, I wish you a joyous holiday season.
Recently, I took my kids to a fair at the local University, and there was one of those big plastic balls there, the ones that look like a human-size hamster ball. Kids were lined up to take their turns running inside the ball from one line of trees to the other and back. My son wanted to do it; my daughter was not so sure. “Do it,” I told her. “If you hate it, you never have to do it again. But if you don’t do it, you’ll always wonder.” She did it twice.
Say yes. This is a lesson it has taken me almost 40 years to learn. Do I really want to go to the sexy ladies party I’ve been invited to, where they are hawking dildos and lubricant to frustrated moms? Kind of. But even if I didn’t, I would make myself go, because I’m a writer.
Once I was at a parent meeting. I was sitting in a circle, inside my daughter’s classroom, and I had my notebook open, ready to take notes. “You have to do everything,” one of the mothers said. I now have no idea what she was referring to, or why this came up. I just knew that I liked the way it sounded. I wrote it down. You have to do everything. This is now my mantra. You have to go on your kids’ field trips. You have to dress in a pink bonnet and pretend to be a Russian Immigrant at Fort Ross; you have to hike to Bumpass Hell which smells like the breath of a hell beast hot on your face. Do Everything. Then you will never run out of stuff to write about.
You are young and you have so many things to say yes to. Do you want to go to Rocky Horror, even though you might be embarrassed the first time you go? Yes! Do you want to go to some weird underground club where a new band you kind of like may or may not be playing? Definitely! Try out for the school play. Learn to play guitar. Reinvent yourself with glitter and makeup. Go to Prom, no matter how dismal it may sound. You have to do everything, especially while you are young. Don’t hole yourself up in your room brooding and being artistic. There will be time for all that later.
A final story to punctuate my point: The very first writer’s conference I attended was in Reno. I was a new mom; money was tight. I had won a scholarship, but I knew I’d want some spending money to buy books and things, so I grabbed a bunch of quarters and put them in a ziplock. At the conference, I bought one book, which cost me about 60 quarters. Afterwards, I was sitting in a workshop, my remaining quarters tucked neatly in my backpack, and some of the attendees started talking about gambling. They lived in Reno, and they had a system for the playing the slots. I don’t remember what the system was and I’m sure if you’re curious, you can find their system on another website, but it dawned on me that I was in Reno Nevada, and that my hotel room was in a casino of all things. And the universe was even giving me a nudge, because I happened to be carrying a baggie full of quarters. So that night I went to the slots and I ordered a mix drink, and I played the slots according to the writing students’ system. While I was there, I noticed the sounds, the smell, the weird dark grit of it all, and sticking to the system, I won some money and I lost some money and when I was down ten bucks, I called it a night. Now, if I ever have a character who ends up in a casino, I will know what she sees. I will know how the chair feels, and the sound the cocktail waitress makes as she clicks away on her heels, before the sound is drowned out by dinging and the winning sound of change clinging against metal.
So my new web page is up and running. If you have been to triciastirling.com before, you will notice that things have changed. They are a bit more simple, and a little more user friendly for me, I hope. I had a template before. I liked it; it was pretty. But it was expensive, and I could never really figure out how to do things like allow comments. Even maintaining the blog was tricky. So my friend Jamie Kain introduced me to WordPress, and so far I think it’s great. My friend Maureen O’Leary is on WordPress too. So is Janet Fitch, who is my friend on Facebook, but not in real life. Maybe someday? A girl can hope. Anyway, as you can see, I’m in good company.
So. I don’t know if anyone is going to stop by and read this, but if you’re here, and you feel like it, do say Hi. And if you have any suggestions for me, or questions you want answered, you can let me know. Now that I finally have a page where comments is enabled. Which feels mighty nice indeed.