Meg · Stout

Usually on Monday, someone will ask:

"How was your weekend?"

For some reason, I rarely remember the details of those blissful days away from work. Maybe I'm too compartmentalized. Work is work, and not work is not work.

Or maybe I'm just having so much fun I fail to sleep enough during the weekend, and thus my Monday morning mind cannot comprehend the glory that was my free time.

This weekend was unusual because I knew, going in, that it was overbooked. There was Capclave, the local specfic convention. There was CropWalk, an annual charity fundraiser. It was Ward Temple Day. And we had tickets for the 2009 tour of So You Think You Can Dance in Richmond. That doesn't even count cool things that would be fun, like the fall "Market Fair" at the Claude Moore Colonial Farm or fall activities at the local garden parks and stores. It certainly didn't include any chores.

Luckily or unluckily, water eliminated two of the contenders. A water main 60 feet under the parking lot of the Washington DC temple burst, closing the temple for a week. Rain caused organizers of most outdoor events to either cancel or send letters acknowledging that sane people would be staying home.

So life was only chockablock instead of insanely overwhelming.

My husband and I had dinner with a group of friends from my writer group (Go Codex!) before spending a leisurely evening taking in readings and discussion groups at Capclave. The next day I was back, for another reading, picking up tips on doing podcasts and revisiting the writers' workshop.

Then it was home to fix food (home-made butternut squash soup and egg foo young) before driving to Richmond for the awesome, rocking, 2009 SYTYCD concert. As usual, we stayed after for autographs and were amongst the last to leave. We got to bed by 3 am, honestly...

Sunday was the usual opportunity to worship. Being LDS, our church service lasts 90 minutes, with two other classes that add up to a 3 hour block. But since I have "stuff I have to do" before meetings and choir practice is after church, I was at church for about 5 hours.

After that it was lunch with sandwiches that included home-made sprouts (we all decided we like mung bean sprouts better than alfalfa).

Off to an Eagle Scout court of honor, a church youth discussion with our autistic daughter, a nap, and baking two loaves of homemade bread from fresh-ground whole wheat.

Then at 8pm there was the weekly chatzy with my Mom and sibs, including my brother in Afghanistan (it was 4 am for him). Read a chapter from scripture out loud with my own family, prayed, and then lingered around sharing craft ideas and clips from the web or magazines or books until everyone decided 10:30 was too late to be up before a school night. An hour later my husband gave me a kiss goodnight and went upstairs.

So now it's just me, typing a blog entry, listening to the gurgling of the dishwasher and the hum of the computer, wondering if I'm going to eat yet another slice of fresh, buttered bread before calling it quits and going up to bed myself.

No to the bread, yes to bed, so here's Goodnight!

At least that's what my doctor said when I went in recently.

The context is this: I hurt myself a year and more ago. Significant pain. In fact, it took weeks before it receded enough to realize it was focused on my arm.

In the course of treatment, they prescribed relafen for the pain - kind of a kinder, gentler ibuprofen.

Since then I've had times when I forgot to take the relafen, or ran out, or left it home when going on travel. Most recently I went on travel/vacation for several weeks without meds, and I was an achy, sore, irritable person by the end.

I've been taking the relafen religiously, night and morning, ever since.

I mentioned this to my doctor, and he was shocked. Apparently he never intended for me to take relafen on a long term basis.

"You're young!" he exclaimed. "You're just a baby! Only 46!" He proceeded to explain what long-term use of relafen could do. Oh my.

So I've been avoiding pain meds ever since. The doctor did refer me to Capsaicin cream, a remedy based on red hot chili peppers that works better than placebo and won't destroy my innards.

I guess I'll just have to start actually taking care of myself.

Mormons care about family.

It's not just the cuddly kids and parents stuff either (though that is very important). It's tying families together across time and space, in hopes that someday all mankind will have the choice to be linked together.

That's what temples are for.

But for my grandmother and her siblings, that was an impossible dream. Their father, Mormon apostle John Whitaker Taylor, was famously excommunicated back in 1911 (for marrying too many women). Thus he was barred from claiming his wives and children (36 of them) in the eternities.

It has caused untolled sorrow in this group of believing, faithful folks. The later wives, the ones who "caused" the schism between John W. Taylor and the church, wore shame like a brand. They never dared attend the temple together, lest the name Taylor alert suspicion. And yet they deeply loved their husband and refused to permit anything to stand between them and the possibility of eternal reunion with their husband.

Five of the wives were barred by US law from inheriting any of their husband's estate when he died in 1916. Despite the resultant poverty and their large families, each of John's widows received offers of marriage.

If they had remarried, John's children might have come to love a living stepfather. The children might have decided they preferred to be linked eternally to some man other than John.

John's wives never gave their children that possibility. Every one of these six beautiful (and they were beautiful) women went to their graves mourning their decades dead husband, poverty and loneliness notwithstanding.

As recently as 2009 descendants of John Whitaker Taylor and his brides were requesting permission to "seal" the family together, to no avail.

Then, suddenly, almost magically, a change took place. The church-owned database (available via new.familysearch.org to church members) was quietly updated just 100 years after John Whitaker Taylor disobediently married his last wife.

The record now shows John and his wives eternally and uniquely bound together (assuming, as always, that they so choose and God agrees). Not only that, but the sealing dates for two of the wives has been updated to reflect the day on which they were married in 1901, and their children are now shown as "born in the covenant."

All thirty-six are gone now, the last one gone to her grave in 2004. But those who comforted John's children and heard their cries know how much this means.

We who remain are left to contemplate this scripture, given to Joseph Smith in March of 1830, before the Church itself was even founded:
_____

Woes shall go forth, weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth...

Nevertheless, it is not written that there shall be no end to this torment, but it is written endless torment... that it might work upon the hearts of the children of men, altogether for my name’s glory.

Behold, I am endless, and the punishment which is given from my hand is endless punishment, for Endless is my name.
_______

For the descendants of John Whitaker Taylor the torment of separation is now over. All is knit back together. The family can be at peace.

I got a call on my cell phone from my married daughter. She knows we can
talk for "free" when we use those phones.

We had a good time reconnecting and sharing stories. Then she said,

"Oh. And the reason I called was to tell you we've topped $1000 saved."

She and her husband are married college students, her husband has a job in a
deli, and they've been assiduously stashing away money. So for them having a
$1000 emergency fund is quite an accomplishment.

While we were talking, I was putting away food I had purchased from Angel
Food Ministries <http://www.angelfoodministries.com/>. Angel Food is a
Christian food ministry, but you don't have to be indigent to take advantage
of their food. In fact, each box processed does two things (besides save
money for the person buying the food):

1) The charity distributing the food gets $1, which usually goes towards
their own food pantry or good works ministry.
2) Any excess food goes to the charity distributing the food.

As it says in their website, "There are no qualifications, minimums, income
restrictions, or applications. Everyone is encouraged to participate. Some
churches even encourage participants to apply the money they saved to help
someone else in need."
Lastly, I checked eBay, and I did win the grain mill I was bidding on for
less than 70% of the price of a new grinder. Milling grain means being able
to make our own whole grain bread, etc. Good stuff. Then again, the true
coup goes to my sister, who found a Whisper Mill at a yard sale for $1.
That's less than 0.5% of the retail price, which beats my 70% all hollow.

Now off to reserve hotel rooms for our end-of-summer vacation at
hotwire.com...

The other night I had the chance to attend one of three lectures about
family issues, with the promise of ice cream and cookies afterwards. How
could I lose?

The first two rooms I passed were discussing 1) aging parents and 2) how to
discipline children. Since my parents are crazy healthy and my remaining
children at home are girls, these classes were only of passing interest.

The third class was on Marital Happiness. The lecturer was a Dr. Bowen - a
mental health professional.

The first set of statistics was interesting. I'd heard how 50% of marriages
end in divorce. But the interesting part was the statistic that 80% of those
who remain married are living parallel lives - physically in the same
marriage, but not much more. Only 20% of those who remain married (10% of
those who marry in the first place) are enjoying thriving relationships.

Yikes.

I left with many handouts and lots of thoughts about how to apply what I'd
heard to my own marriage. One book that was mentioned particularly was "And
They Were Not Ashamed: Strengthening Marriage through Sexual Fulfillment." I
bought the book on Amazon, and took some time to browse the pages that
Amazon lets you view. The core idea is that chastity is great (abstaining
from sex outside of marriage) but in the context of marriage sex is not only
nice but necessary. Far too many good people, the author contents,
fundamentally hurt their marriages either through ignorance of how to
sexually fulfill their partner (and receive fulfillment) or are hindered by
the idea that sex is nasty and sinful and disgusting. To make matters worse,
they perpetuate that ignorance or that prudish worldview in how they teach
(or not) their children.

At the same time I've been trying to do research for my novel, in which one
character (historical, I didn't just make this up for the fun of it) falls
from grace because of his obsession with physical love. In the course of the
research came across a variety of websites that I found surprising. There
are even more words I will now no longer use because I know their
connotation. On the other hand, folks who approach sex unburdened by
hang-ups and willing to "improve" their skills in providing pleasure in the
pursuit of receiving greater pleasure will reap the blessings, if you
will, associated with honoring that aspect of their physical being.

One fun comment Dr. Bowen made was "Sexual intimacy is best after thirty
years of marriage." The unspoken qualifier is that it's among those who
learn how to become truly intimate, the 10%. And it would not apply to those
who constantly seek new partners in pursuit of a hot fling.

Of course, such stuff simply reeks for those who would, themselves, be
capable of intimacy, but have either remained single or lost a spouse due to
factors beyond their control.

A final note is about what it takes to start of well in marriage. Dr. Bowen
asked a volunteer to rank their connection with their loved one based on
Physical, Emotional, Social, Intellectual, and Spiritual aspects. On a scale
from 0 to 100, the volunteer ranked their relationship as 60, 70, 80, 95,
and 90, stating they were 100 as far as commitment to the relationship. Dr.
Bowen turned to the board on which these scores had been plotted and drew a
line at 80. "If you are not yet married and have any of these areas that
are not at least 80, then don't marry." That was surprising. But on
reflection I thought of Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice," where the
heroine, Lizzie, could have married Mr. Collins. It would have been a
marriage, but doomed to be one of those "parallel" marriages (as Austen
demonstrates when the practical Charlotte does later agree to marry Mr.
Collins.

May we all become like Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett, rather than like Mr.
Collins and the hapless Charlotte.

I just bought a new car. New to me, that is.

My husband has a philosophical issue with buying new cars. I think it is
bound up with the idea that a car depreciates thousands of dollars the
moment you drive it off the dealer's lot. Or maybe he's just allergic to
that new car smell.

I thought the $4500 from the "Cash for Clunkers" program would overcome that
objection. But it turns out our V8 Cadillac Coupe deVille actually gets 19
mpg and doesn't qualify as a Clunker.

I had resigned myself to driving the Cadillac into the ground when it failed
to pass inspection. Twice.

So, how to go about finding a comprehensive listing of used cars?

I ended up going to cars.com and using their Advanced
Search<http://www.cars.com/for-sale/advancedsearch.action>function.
This lets you search all makes, models, and body styles within
range of your zip code (say 30 miles from your zip). You can specify max
price, max mileage, year range, or leave these all blank.

Hit return.

For example, today I find 32 cars priced $1000 or less within 30 miles of my
zip code.

Wow.

When I'm seriously looking for a car, I'll go ahead and purchase access to
carfax <http://www.carfax.com/> to find out the history for cars I'm
considering based on their Vehicle Identification Number (VIN). For less
than $40 you can run an unlimited number of carfax searches [see a sample
report <http://www.carfax.com/vehiclehistory/sampleclean3mxown.cfx>], which
will tell you all the intimate details of accidents, recalls, and odometer
readings when the car was registered over it's life.

Most of these have pictures of the cars that you can browse and a VIN
number. If there is no VIN number, there is a phone number (for example,
for listings from newspapers). You can call, chat, and get the VIN number
from them.

I ended up finding a clean, single-owner minivan with less than 100,000
miles for under $3000. Wow.

So I've been using ping.fm to update all my social
networks.

Unfortunately, I didn't read the manual... So all the stuff I intended for
twitter and Facebook also ended up on my blogs. I should go back and fix
that sometime (but not tonight).

I also realized that I was losing the connection with other folks, because
while I would get responses to my posts, I wasn't commenting on other
people's posts. Made for rather one-sided conversations.

So in a few days I'll look like I always knew what I was doing, with all the
untitled status updates removed from my blogs.

I couldn't help but be glad that Jaime Ford's Japanese Keiko and Chinese Henry fail to find married love in the 1940s.

As a half-white child of the 1960s (back when such things were illegal in many states), I recall the hatred and torment I received from my peers (though my peers never physically beat me). The pain a Chinese-Japanese child would have endured during the 1940s is mind boggling.

Even as late as 1963, my Chinese aunt was driven from her marriage, her church, and her adopted country because of inter-racial hatred (daring, as she had, marry a white man).

My aunt even attempted suicide, as Jaime Ford's characters never do.

But in real life, as in fiction, time heals much.

My aunt and her first husband are remarried Death and time have freed them from pain, bigotry, and the second marriages that followed their 1963 divorce.

They are happy now, and I am glad of it.

Last month I had a chance to tour a friend's garden, and saw his very nice
composting setup. He'd acquired 2-3 very nice compost tumblers over the
years from neighbors.

Alas, I don't have any neighbors offering such stuff up for free. Even on
eBay the least expensive compost tumbler I could find was well over $100.

A search of the internet provided inspiration. The post How to Start a
Compost Bin in the City (with Little
Money)<http://gatheringinlight.com/2007/10/15/how-to-start-a-compost-bin-in-the-city-with-little-money/>sold
me. My 20 gallon Rubbermaid bin cost $12, but I was able to throw in
an extra lid (to catch the compost tea) for free. Five minutes with the
drill, and it's done. The week's paper shreddings and vegetable bits are
now happily ensconced there together.

In other news, we will be building a rain barrel later this month. Then
we'll be able to combine water conservation with having 55 gallons on
non-potable water in case of an emergency.

I recently purchased a new-to-me iBook off eBay. The primary purpose was so
I could use Scrivener <http://www.literatureandlatte.com/scrivener.html> , a
powerful novel-writing program.
My other motivation for buying the iBook was wanting something I could write
on comfortably.

I had lots of computer things on which I could type before:

2 desktop computer systems
2 Asus EeePCs (7 inch screens)
3 AlphaSmart Keyboards

I love the little EeePCs, but eventually had to admit that the keyboard is
simply too small for me to use comfortably.

I don't mind the desktops too much, but they are fixed in space (and a
precious commodity in our home of net-savvy people).

The AlphaSmarts are ultimately portable and battery life is measured in
weeks rather than hours - particularly important for really long plane
flights. The keyboard is adequate, but not pleasurable.

I would never have purchased a laptop merely to have a more pleasurable
portable keyboard experience. But since I couldn't have Scrivener on any
platform other than a Mac with OS X 10.4 or later, I "needed" a Mac.

This particular Mac is an iBook G3 900 MHz machine with wireless, a 40 GB
hard drive, and a 12.1" screen. It's delightfully intuitive. Now that I've
downloaded Scrivener and the Flip4Mac WMV player, I had everything I need to
import my writing and upload my audio files for transcription, as necessary.

I already have been able to import and organize bits and pieces that have
languished for months (Sept 2008 and December 2008 for my "Children of
Heaven" (COH) and "Pearl of Alba" (POA) novel projects, respectively).

With my POA manuscript, I experimented with dictating scenes, planning to
transcribe the audio files and then organize the transcriptions into a first
draft. I found myself with a backlog of audio files to transcribe at the
end. Once I had transcribed the files, I had several hundred interspersed
snippets of text and that's where I left POA in December 2008.

The tangled mass of snippets that seemed overwhelming without Scrivener now
seems entirely manageable and I'm energized to move forward. Hooray!

In February my buddy, Luc Reid, asked for volunteers with whom he could work
on some area where they wished to become more motivated.

I had three areas that came to mind:

1) Writing
2) Physical Health (e.g., diet and exercise)
3) Household Organization

I decided that the first thing I had to knock out was the household
organization thing. At the time I started working with Luc, about 50% of my
home was effectively unusable because of the "clutter." It has been this
way for years. But now, less than a month after Luc started working with me
(an hour a week over the phone), I have 90% of my home available to be used
as originally designed. The remaining 10% (the erstwhile family room) at
least has a clear floor even if it does contain >200 neatly stacked boxes
awaiting "defragmentation."

Can I just say now that I am completely amazed that this happened so
quickly. I thought it would take months.

[moment of appreciative silence]

So now I have the mental space to turn back to my writing.

I'm in the process of acquiring a Mac iBook so I can run Scrivener. I'll
be a proud owner of an iBook on 17 April one way or the other. The cool
thing about Scrivener is that it will allow me to work with the bits and
pieces I have on my "Queen of Alba" manuscript (QoA has been too daunting to
deal with up to now).

However, my first priority is to write my "Children of Heaven" book, which
takes place during the last years of Joseph Smith's life, seen from the POV
of three people who lived with him. I wrote a draft of this a couple of
years ago, back before I knew how to write or half of the historical
factoids. That original draft was important and necessary, but the book I
will start writing now is as unlike that first draft as a newborn is unlike
the blastula from whence it evolved.

Don't need Scrivener to write "Children of Heaven." I just need a healthy
dose of "butt in chair."

*Yippie Ki Yea!*

From frozen milk to something else entirely...

My husband and I sometimes make time to attend a local discussion
group, where topics involving Mormonism are aired. The discussions
are housed in the Potomac home of a well-to-do individual. It's more
like visiting an Italian castle than anything else. And the
refreshments are good.

And the company is invariably interesting.

At the end of the month the discussion group will host George D.
Smith, who recently published a book titled "Nauvoo Polygamy: '...but
we called it celestial marriage'." I note that he is, in fact, both
author as well as the founder and current publisher of Signature
Books, the imprint bringing out "Nauvoo Polygamy."

I understand George D. Smith is a fascinating person. And since I am
highly interested in Nauvoo and the emergence there of polygamy, I
decided to buy George Smith's book.

My family was involved in the emergence of Nauvoo polygamy. So one of
the first things I did was try to find my people. The first page
listed in the index gives a super-brief summary. The second page has
nothing at all to do with my family member.

What?

I will be reading the book, but I've already noticed several instances
where the author's choice of words or characterization is like
fingernails on a chalkboard to this reader.

I expect George Smith is more personable in the flesh.

If you want a review of the book and don't want to wait for me to read
it, my husband found a review here: http://is.gd/fMGE.

If you shop at Costco, you've noticed that the milk cartons are very
unique - more rectangular than the normal jugs in the regular
supermarkets.

So I got thinking there must be a good reason for that.

It would be sufficient reason if they were able to reduce the
packaging for themselves. Maybe the new carton means they don't have
to have those big plastic crates (the ones we used to seek out back
during college - they made great furniture for the truly
penny-pinching). That would be sufficient reason, but of no use to
me.

On the other hand, the new carton might be good for freezing milk.
But I didn't know if freezing milk is "done." Turns out it is
possible, best done with skim milk, and it changes the mouth feel
enough that you'll never find the dairy council recommending the
practice.

But I'm just a busy mother with kids who want their milk. If having a
frozen gallon or so around between shopping trips lets me buy all my
milk at Costco (less than $3/gallon), that would beat the $4/gallon we
are currently paying at the local grocery.

So I did the experiment. Milk expands when frozen, but the Costco
cartons are thick-walled and have bunches of "grooves" in the side
which allow for expansion. Plus the more columnar form of the carton
means the milk can expand upwards without being forced into a bottle
neck. In all, it worked pretty well.

The milk took a while to thaw. The milk ice is much more ice than
milk. We started drinking milk before the ice had thawed, and that
milk tasted like powdered milk. But when we let the entire gallon
thaw, it tasted normal enough.

So - freezing milk is a bit of a hassle. But for our family, it is
sufficiently acceptable given the $ savings.

I have to admit it. I have an addictive personality.

No, not that you are addicted to my personality, rather that I find it
very easy to get addi... absorbed in things.

So this freecycle thing. I suppose it could be considered my latest
addiction. But it's a good addiction.

I don't need the stuff filling boxes and crevices throughout my home.
It's like the material equivalent of fatty deposits over muscles or
lining the walls of blood vessels. It looks gross and inhibits my
ability to do everything I might wish. For those who've encountered
the Flylady crowd, they refer to it as CHAOS (can't have anyone over
syndrome).

Each day in 2009 I've found something I don't want to keep around, for
whatever reason. I list it on the Freecycle page. Usually by the end
of the 24 hours I have not just one person who wants my discard, but
many people. I don't have to do much, just bag it, label it, and
place it near the door. The stuff flies out of the house. I feel
like I'm making people happy, and I'm happy because that stuff clearly
had value to someone. I wasn't *crazy* to keep it around all that
time. Silly, perhaps, but not crazy.

Others in the family are catching the "don't have to hoard it" fever.
My married daughter tells me she started a freecycle group in her
town. My younger kids help me search for freecycle fodder, or have
offered up their stuff.

So today I come home and ask out loud what I should freecycle today.

"Dad says to freecycle the rollerblades."

This is my husband who still has boxes of mag tapes from the 1980s.

Oh. My. Goodness. There is hope yet.

It's a new year - arbitrary as that is.

Still it's a chance to make a break with the past and start new - like the
cleansing baptism or communion serve in some communities.

Rather than tell you the myriad things I hope to do, I'll focus on one area:

Footprint.

Here are a couple of ways I'm explicitly going to go (or stay) green.

*Recycling*. We are lucky to have places nearby where we can recycle paper,
plastic, glass, metal, electronics, and plastic bags. This almost doesn't
count as a new thing, because we're pretty well set up to do these things
now.
*
Freecycling*. Again, we're lucky. I don't know if this is an option
everywhere, but in our area there is an active freecycle group.

Last year I mostly remember the cool stuff we got - a futon mattress and
frame, a dresser, a refrigerator. In the past month, though, I've started
offering stuff up for freecycle - a loft bed, a violin, electronics.

My 2009 goal is to offer up at least one thing per day (on average). I have
boxes and boxes of stuff I keep telling myself I should go through. For
years. But in my quest to find something else fresh and desirable, I expect
to see those boxes dwindle appreciably over the coming year. It would be so
nice to be able to actually use the space I own. I'll also get a better
sense of what is actually desirable - I mean, if people don't even want it
for free, is it worth keeping/donating?

*E-gifting*. In past we've received large boxes at Christmas time, but no
more. This year the gifts we received were modest in size if mailed. In a
couple of cases the gifts were hand delivered.

Exchanging gift cards? You may say, "What's the point?" I find that
knowing we have a gift card or check frees me to get a thing I really want,
a thing I wouldn't get if it were just me and my own funds. I figure I'm
freeing the recipient from having to exchange items. And if I give a
particularly fungible giftcard, they can use it for necessities, if that is
really their greatest need.

Besides, I've found that's an easy way to help out folks when I become aware
of a need. Someone's computer blows up with all their files, someone is in
danger of being evicted. I give generously through official channels at
work and church, but there are times when you just want to help a particular
individual who is down and out. E-gifting lets me do that and extends the
potential scope of friends I can help across the globe.
*
Fight the "Bigger, Better" temptation*. I already live in a town home
within walking distance of school and (in a stretch) church, and shopping.
It's a modest commute from work, which I can do by public transit when not
required to drive myself. So I'll remind myself that is good. No
salivating over lovely single-family homes that would increase my commute
and require that we use a car to do anything and everything.

Beyond that there are the decisions about what to do with the home we have.
There's a line between necessarily maintenance and "but I *want* a new
floor, redesigned fixtures, the thing that will make my house look like that
magazine ad." I can embrace the value of 'neat,' 'clean,' 'well-maintained'
as sufficient, rather than feeling deprived because I can't gut and trash
everything and start fresh.

Feel free to tell me other things I should be doing, or that you're doing!

I was thinking about updating my website, and thought it would be good to
review a couple of sites that I admire.

I started noticing that folks had bios. For example:

> Stephenie Meyer graduated from Brigham Young University with a bachelor's
> degree in English. She lives with her husband and three young sons in
> Phoenix, Arizona. After the publication of her first novel, *Twilight*,
> booksellers chose Stephenie Meyer as one of the "most promising new authors
> of 2005" (*Publishers Weekly*).

Ah, to be a best-selling author... There's also the biography of the lovely
Joy Marchand:

Joy Marchand holds a B.A. in Classical Studies from the University of the
> Pacific. She lives in Salem, Massachusetts, where she takes photos of odd
> signage, churchyards and the occasional roadside shrine. Joy's poems and
> short stories have been featured in *Bare Bone, Writers of the Future
> Volume XX,* the *Elastic Book of Numbers, Modern Magic, Time for Bedlam,
> Polyphony 5, **Interfictions*, *Talebones, Apex Digest,**Interzone*, among
> others. Joy has also worked as an editor for *Shimmer*, a small magazine
> packed with quality short fiction and stunning artwork. She is currently at
> work on a road novel set on Route 66.
>

If I convolve the two, mine would read:

Meg Stout holds a B.S. in Physics from George Mason University and a M.S. in
> Product Development from Naval Postgraduate School. She lives with her
> husband and daughters in Annandale, Virginia. She is currently at work on a
> novel about the Saint Margaret of Scotland.

Alas, my job and formal training don't *go* with writing fiction. However,
I know that the scientific method and cultural analysis I learned informs my
writing method. So perhaps a better bio would be:

Meg Stout graduated from George Mason University and the Naval Postgraduate
> School with scientific degrees. As a novelist, she applies the scientific
> method to true stories, uncovering startling possibilities. She is
> currently at work on a novel about the Saint Margaret of Scotland.
>

So do I mention the novel about Elvira Cowles, plural wife of Joseph Smith?
Hers is the story that compelled me to take up the craft of writing in
my dotage,
I mean maturity. Do I mention my husband and daughters? My home in
Annandale, Virginia? My job at the Washington Navy Yard? The fact my
parent's marriage was "void and prohibited" at the time of my birth in the
state where I was born?

Probably not, but time will tell.

I'm at the Narita, Tokyo airport, sitting in the Red Carpet Club. This is
actually the first time I've ever flown business class, so it's a new
experience. Quiet, comfortable seats, power, internet, munchies, free
beverages. If I actually imbibed anything more alcoholic than orange juice,
I could get beer, wine, and hard liquor for free too.

This morning I ate breakfast at a Vie de France in Yokosuka, Japan. It's
amazing how well one can get on without spoken language, just a big smile,
nodding and bowing at the appropriate moments. The food was heavenly, but
the memorable thing was the little old lady sitting across from me.

My grandmother was a little old hunched Asian lady before her passing. And
this little old woman sitting across from me picking at her pastry was so
like my grandmother that I started to tear up. I could never talk to my
grandmother. She spoke a dialect of Mandarin that was incomprehensible even
to the Taiwanese folks she ended up living amongst after fleeing from Mao
Tse-tung's communist regime. Her only window to the world was through her
husband and children, who learned to speak the language.

My dad resented the way he was treated as a foreigner, so he decided to
liberate his children from racial discrimination by making sure we were as
American as possible. He refused to teach us Mandarin. In fact relatively
few people now even realize we are 1/2 Chinese (thanks to the genes of our
tall, blond, european-stock mother).

So I never, ever, had a conversation with my grandmother that extended
beyond smilling and nodding and bowing (and hugging) at the appropriate
times.

A few years ago my Taiwanese sister-in-law moved in next door. I was so
excited. Now I could have my sister-in-law write a letter to my
grandmother, and grandmother could read it and write back to me. I asked my
dad for Grandma's mailing address.

"Why?" he asked.

"So I can write to her."

He looked at me funny. "But Grandma can't read."

"I know. J--- will translate my letter into Chinese."

"English, Chinese, it doesn't matter. Grandma can't read."

It was like my world turned upside down. Dad must have seen how upset I
was, for he leaned in, as though to confess something.

"Meg, Grandpa was a soldier and can read, but he was dogmatic - rigid.
Grandma might not be able to read, but she was the one who was creative, she
was the smart one."

Dad tapped his forehead. "I, you, we take after Grandma."

So I sat there in the Vie de France, crying, thinking about Grandma, who has
been dead now for almost 6 years. Then I got up and bowed and smiled and
nodded and went out into the sunlit street.

I don't partake of news if I can help it.

But I came across the factoid that some young Polynesian men allegedly
attacked some gay rights activists who were picketing the Mormon temple in
Oakland, CA.

Since the Polynesian men were caught on camera ripping posters off the
temple gates one would assume they are Mormon.

However, since they were screaming epithets (and allegedly swinging punches
off camera), they were not acting Mormon. Whether Mormon or not.

I think of my first husband. His drill sergeant found out he was Mormon.
Called him into his office.

"I'm going to break you, boy."

First husband had seen the sergeant working over a fellow Mormon, a rather
scrawny young man. The sergeant had ordered the rest of the platoon perform
standing push-ups until the Mormon private agreed to smoke a cigarette. The
private stopped coming to church after that.

The man who would become my first husband stuck his chest out and drew
himself to full height.

"Sir, I smoke, I drink, and I whore around. But I know Joseph Smith was a
prophet of God. You can't break me, sir."

This is hearsay, of course. After all, I wasn't actually there, nor do I
have this incident on tape. But it goes to illustrate the point that people
from your group, whatever that group may be, can act in ways that make you
absolutely squirm.

Since the Polynesian men who are alleged to have attacked the gay activists
were caught on tape, they will doubtless be brought to justice. Since they
were attacking gay activists rather than random hoodlums, they will be
accused of having committed a hate crime.

But in the media, an entire church is being tried in the court of public
opinion.

Alas, we read the Sermon on the Mount tonight. And so I've been reminded of
His commandment:

"...behold I say unto you, love [all mankind, including] your enemies, bless
them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them who
despitefully use you and persecute you..."

And so tonight our family's prayer was that the people in LA [and
California] will all be safe and treat one another with respect.

It's not easy. I was so excited when I bought Dragon NaturallySpeaking and
the digital voice recorder. I thought I would be able to record while
commuting and walking and exercising, then be able to hook up the recorder
to the computer and walk away.

Hah.

Alas, background noise and other factors prevent Dragon NaturallySpeaking
from transcribing directly from the digital voice recorder with acceptable
accuracy. So it didn't work that smoothly, but I have found a way to make
this work.

What I have discovered is that I can be playing the voice file on my
speakers, and speaking the text into my headset. In a way this gives me an
opportunity to revise the raw speech that I may have uttered on the fly, so
the speech that gets transcribed by the computer.

It turns out that when I am commuting or walking, I'm able to talk
relatively quickly. Going over the recordings from the last couple of days,
I had in excess of 10,000 words. It is perhaps taking me twice as long to
get the computer to transcribe the information as it would if the digital
voice recorder files would get transcribed directly. But 10,000 words across
two days is much faster than I would be able to do if I were merely sitting
at the computer typing.

The other thing that is absolutely thrilling is to sit at the computer
talking at a regular rate and see the text get transcribed as I'm talking.
And that is something I would miss if I were merely plugging in the digital
voice recording or walking away.

So I've got my method now. And I am happy.

It's that time of year again - New writers will chomp at the bit to
start writing at 12:01 am on November 1, 2008, signing up to do the
literary equivalent of a marathon by writing a 50,000 word novel in a
single calendar month.

As one who "won" Nanowrimo in the past, I'm invoking the Zokutou
clause (http://www.zokutou.co.uk/theclause.html):

"If you have already attained the status of Winner, you do not need to
start a new novel, as your main aim is now to finish one. You can now
consider yourself a winner if, by midnight on the 30th of November,
you have either:

1. Written 50,000 words on one or more previous works.
2. Completed your novel's first draft."

I'm in the throes of actively working on my historical fiction novel
about Saint Margaret of Scotland, with an outside of Nanowrimo
deadline to finish something that will be judged by *other people* on
15 December.

I'm meg.stout at http://www.nanowrimo.org - see you in November!