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The end is near.

Well, not really.

I sit here writing this as the calendar is slowly clicking away to November 1st. The first day of NaNoWriMo. A month long celebration or endurance race to write a novel. This will be the first year I have EVER participated in this activity. Right now, on Oct 31st as Halloween takes hold and the streets are swarming with costume-clad children (and adults!) announcing their intention to trick unless they get a treat (mostly chocolate!), I am eager to get started on my novel; to tap away on the keyboard for a minimum of 1,666 words a day and see and feel what bubbles up from my conscious and pours onto the glowing screen of my lap top.

Eager, but also ready to wait until tomorrow dawns.

It’s quite interesting that NaNoWriMo begins on November 1st.  Since Oct 31st is the eve of All Saint’s Day; of course, here in the USA, no one really thinks of Halloween like that but rather more of a huge celebration that has evolved from a children’s activity to a huge, multi-generational reason to don costumes and act outrageous.

On All Saint’s Day, the church were I grew up would ring the bells for our long dead relatives. I can remember  bells for my grandparents and the  hearing their names spoken along with the names of others and feeling the years of their lives that touched mine.

As I sit here on the 43rd floor looking out over the city, my subconscious is churning and bubbling ready to get to work, filled with ideas and people that have inhabited my past.

I am a bit awe struck by it all, but eager, very eager to begin.

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Writing Class Begins


I started a writing class recently. To get here, I must leave my house three hours prior to class – Southern California freeway traffic is brutal and this whole experience is especially so for me, because this is way out of my comfort zone.

So, I am sipping an oversized latte. Do I even like this? I panicked at the counter and ordered the first item on the menu that caught me eye.

What do I want to get out of this writing class? Well, how to re-write the novel I have already written. It needs to be tightened, shorten and clean up . . . a lot and much more, although I am at a loss to list it here.

I’m a bit apprehensive about this class since I do consider myself pretty well read, but not so great when it comes to putting emotion on the page – sort of fall flat there. I’m hoping this class will help me infuse my characters with more emotion and also – give my some guidelines on how to plot – another pitfall of mine.

So here goes. Jumping in with both feet. Something new and different just like trying to finish this oversized latte.

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Multi- tasking? Nope. Not me.

I can’t do two activities at the same time. Well, I shouldn’t say I can’t what I should say is that if I try and do two activities at the same time I do neither of them very well.

Multi-tasking is a concept that seems to have run rampant through out American businesses partnered with the ever-annoying synergy, work smarter, and walk the talk.

None of which makes doing two activates better, faster or efficient: at least not for me.

I guess, it depends on the activity, but I do believe that concentrating on one effort is better then dividing my attention (and skill) over several efforts at the same time.

For instance, when it comes to writing, all I can do is write. I don’t listen to music while writing, nor the TV, and many times I can’t even have my cats in the room with me because they are demanding my attention as I write.


What is it with cats and computer keyboards?

What is it with cats and computer keyboards?

Since multitasking is not in my genome or skill set or what-ever-the-latest-buzz word is – I am a liability in the current environment of American business and I am a stumbling block in my home life, too. I am unable to answer the phone, wait on a client and answer emails simultaneously nor am I able to vacuum the floors, listen to a book on tape, check my Twitter feed or plan the next weeks meals, simultaneously. For all these tasks (and many more) it takes me much longer to complete each and everyone one for them because, I do each task one at a time. Yes, it is true: I vacuum only. Write out my grocery list. If the phone rings? Yikes! I sit there at the kitchen table and – ready for this?! I only talk on the phone! How very old fashioned of me, isn’t it?

There is, however something very calming about doing one task at a time. I do feel a sense of accomplishment once I get the house vacuumed. I can concentrate on my phone conversation if all I am doing is talking to one person. I never could understand how anyone could drive and chat on the phone – let alone text!

Geez! I like to drive even without the radio on.

By being a ‘multitasker’ failure, I feel much more calmer, relaxed and in control of my life rather than being ‘controlled’ by all these tasks I think I should be able to do simultaneously.

Will I even be a CEO? Nope. Will I ever learn a language? I doubt it. Understand the workings of my cell phone? Definitely not. Get my book written? Yes, I will – someday.

What I do know is that by not being able to multitask I can enjoy the here and the now. I can be in the moment and realize that this is a real good place to be.

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The First.

The first day of school.

The first job.

The first kiss.

The first in line.

The first time.

The first is an important landmark in our lives: our first steps (we may not remember, but our parent(s) probably do or our first date (perhaps we may like to forget this first) or our first car. The freedom to drive – Anywhere we wanted- as long as we had petrol in the tank!

I remember my first pair of glasses; I was thrilled I could see – see every thing really, really well.

So everybody has his or her favorite, or well-remembered ‘firsts’.

So this is, my first blog post, under my own name.

My first.

It isn’t, my first blog. I have been blogging for a few years under my pseudonym of Kemmish at But, that blog has been – for the most part- all about my adventures in sewing (primary garment construction) lightly salted with tidbits about of my life in Southern California.

Now, I’m starting a new blog, under my own name, for my own writing that isn’t limited to sewing, in other words: a new first for me.