This post is coming to you “live” from the road as we journey 1,700 miles — white knuckled through a torrential downpour — toward our destination in the Pacific Northwest.
The landscape is dotted with cell towers. These tall structures house antennas, transmitters, receivers — a myriad of electronic equipment — that support cell phones, computers, GPS systems, and other technological advancements.
With a strong signal, our electronics maintain contact with the mother ship’s energy (so to speak) on a consistent basis.
Personally, I enjoy sustained contact with source energy — divinity. Because I prefer a strong uninterrupted signal, it requires regular maintenance on my end of things.
I recently bought a car mount for my cell phone so that when using the GPS feature, I can hear Siriand see the map — both — all the while keeping my hands safely on the wheel rather than fumbling with my glasses.
I don’t wear glasses to drive, but I do for reading, or map work — unless it’s far enough away — and this particular cell phone mount suits my needs perfectly.
Each of us has a different vision of how and where we’re going in life. Some of us are more spontaneous and drive by the seat of our pants, while others delight in detail, planning it down to the gnat’s whisker.
Thursday – April 22, 2010 I arrived at the Writers’ Institute in Madison, Wisconsin a day early to take photographs and get my bearings. A college town, it’s instantly clear I missed the memo about must-be-seen-in accessories. I’m not decked out in earbuds, one dangling fashionably down the front of my shirt while holding a razor-thin cell phone to my other ear; or stylishly in front of my chest, index finger sliding gracefully across the glass face several times, brows furrowed, appearing to search intently for something.
Friday – April 23, 2010 Literary Agent Katharine Sands said to the audience of writers, “Writers … in the end, you’re opening a restaurant and your job is to fill seats with people and get them to try your signature dish.”
Saturday – April 24, 2010 In regards to getting a fresh pair of eyes to read your manuscript, author John DeDakis said, “There comes a time when you’ve done all the damage you can do, and now it’s someone else’s turn.”
Sunday – April 25, 2010 Author and teacher, Laurel Yourke, talked about “the new math,” meaning—Whatever doesn’t add, subtracts.
I share this feeling, especially as it relates to breaking the rules of writing. Be cautious of advice that starts with “never.” Absolute rules don’t always apply. If keeping a rule subtracts from the story, break it! An example that’s just begging to be broken is “Write what you know.” I don’t agree—at all. That’s what imaginations are for. If we think of rules as guidelines, we’re more apt to bend, stretch, and break them when it’s best for the story.