I’d taken one of those phone calls and received an empty sound, hung up, and muttered about it. John said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just one of my girlfriends.”
My come back, “Waiting for her pineapple no doubt!” because he’d given me a nice big juicy one instead of flowers. See February 14’s blog if your curious. nancymauerman.com
Why do we make words forbidden? We want to be victims, that’s why! But why is that? Victims are IMPORTANT! It seems to me part of being human is needing to be famous or at least important. When I’ve been seriously ill and The Doctor confirms this I jump up and down in inside my head, cheering, “My diagnosis has a name. I AM IMPORTANT!” I’m even important when I have a cold.
I was abused very young so I’m a VICTIM YEA!!! I’m a woman= a victim Yea!!! I wish I was black, but I do have quite a bit of Cherokee in me, hey almost a Victim!
If I was easily offended I could stack up more victimic titles and words to offend me. Blonds shouldn’t be allowed to have more fun! I’m an unrecognized artist, poor me. If people do look they don’t understand art principles enough to tell mediocre art from High Art. They should PASS A LAW. Everybody should be taught art principles rigorously, starting in lower grades, so everybody would know how skilled I am. Saving money in order to pay bills responsibly should be a appointed a ‘disability’ and everyone else, through taxes, should buy me the toys I forgo, BUT THAT I NEED!
It’s been thought by some I don’t dress conventionally, or well. So I NEED A PERSONAL SHOPPER AND THE ACCOMPANYING GOVERNMENT FUNDING because I get my feelings hurt.
Someone said to me, “If you hallow out dumbbells you won’t grow strong.” Ask an Olympian if pain doesn’t create strength.
In my book ‘Bearos’, Kathy doesn’t know CORNER SITTING should have been outlawed. It’s a sure indication of victimhood. She should have been federally protected, as she tries out her new ideas. She takes one bite from every sandwich on the table before her family can sit down for lunch. Then she licks Almost All the frosting from Dad’s birthday cake. She complains about her victimic status, but I can’t help wonder if her creative mind and dedicated follow through might not develop in her a great scientific future. Posters of the infamous Bearo from the book’s front cover are available now. See the book Bearos at Amazon in both paperback and as an eBook on Kindle. nancymauerman.com
John does not want to read my picture books but is inflicted with them none the less. Although he doesn’t CHOOSE to read my kid’s books he never seems to get tired of the language in them or the plots. In fact between the proof readings pressed on him he repeats his favorite sections back to me laughing. All I can say is, “Touché: I’ve learned this attitude of inflection from him because many of our conversations have been exactly like this; “John do you think they’ll like empty holsters as Easter baskets?” He doesn’t hear me because he’s busy putting seven more in our shopping basket so I say, “John I don’t think they’ll want them or will like them!” He finally hears me and says, “OOh, yes they will. They’ll like them. They just don’t know it yet.”
Amy, my computer expert, proof reader, editor, and woman who entertains me be sometimes dressing like a Steinway, says she would never CHOOSE to read picture books either. But she rereads mine. And is not getting tired of them and is still laughing.
I therefore feel successful; my intentions have always been to write books for adults to read aloud near the end of a hectic day when they’d much rather do something else. My goal has been to alleviate the readers’ need to: 1 LIE!! (“Oh, I’m sorry a sea monster rose up out of the toilet today, when you were in school, and ate your book. Oh, too bad for us!”)
2 throw themselves on the floor (“NOOO! NOOOO! Not that book again!”)
I want the reader to not only LIVE through the reading experience, but TOTALLY ENJOY some new facet of the book EACH time it’s read. I declare REREADING is now an asset not a dread! (By the way they DID like Easter holsters!) nancymauerman.com
Some people have junk drawers and hammer drawers but at my house we have TOY DRAWERS and some full of cut fabric too, by color, waiting to go into quilts.We our adult friends come over to play (talk) their kids WANT to come too. I bet you can guess why. nancymauerman.com
When I was young and heard stories about Brier Rabbit and the brier patch I couldn’t imagine a tangle of shrubbery so menacing they would prevent Brier Rabbit’s enemies from pursuing him. But that was because I lived in Nebraska. Now I wrestle with eastern blackberries in Oregon and I KNOW. Their intent is to seize control and consume my en yard! Leafman is the son of a blackberry and Rose woman; his intent is to take over the entire WORLD and would have done so had it not been for a little girl named Anna and her assistants, her Grandmother and her dragon. One of the four Leafman Attacks books is free as an eBook at Amazon today. nancymauerman.com and to see Rose Woman see Zazzel Cafe Press and Fine Art America
It takes four books to tell this story about the hateful Leafman. It was a fun challenge to make each complete in and of itself but still review the previous stories’ information without being tedious. The other end of each book in the series is completed in a very exciting and satisfying way but with an added dose pf mystery.
I like the beginning of stories as I discover the lay of the land. I enjoy middles as I ferret out the motivations of the characters but I often don’t finish a book because as it winds DOWN the author ties loose ends only. The ends lack energy and mystery.
The series, Leafman Attacks are stories about Anna and her dragon Iva Lou, but this time Paul is out with a broken arm. I appreciate all you readers who have requested and waited patiently for this new story, find it at Amazon. nancymauerman.com
What is understood to be a Universal Truth is not always widely known. “It’s so rude to not send a thank you note.” is one I hear often and one I break. One of my favorites was declared as gospel fact in a ladies’ group. My friend declared, as though she was an astronomer discussing the sun’s rising, “If someone calls saying they will drop by in a few minutes and there’s no time to clean house, everyone knows there is only one room you need to straighten!”
We sat in perfect silence but then a small voice finally said, “Which one?” My freind answered, “The bathroom of course! It’s the only room in which a guest might be by ALONE WITH THE DOOR CLOSED!” There was a slight shuffling and she continued, “Everyone alone in a strange bathroom inspects the insides all drawers and cupboards!”
This was met with mixed reviews: some sounds in the room were a mutter of affirmation but the rest were noises of incredulity! Many were thinking, as John did when I repeated this situation to him later, “We can do THAT? I’ve been missing out! Let’s go visit someone!” My friend had declared a universal truth again because it rang true inside me but evidently I’d missed the universe again! The room fell silent and I’m positive everyone was clicking through their memories trying to matching up bathroom guests with cupboard tidiness.
In my book ‘Bearos’ Kathy is “blamed for kitty one and kitty two swimming in the toilet.” She claims she didn’t do this, “The bearos were just washing the fish water off so they could eat them!” she says. She proves the logic of her argument by pointing out, “Everybody who watches television knows bears love fish.”
Read about Kathy in Bearos at Amazon and tomorrow I’ll tell you about the surprises inside some of the drawers at my house. nancymauerman.com
I’m LOOSING words every year and I’m a slow learner so add only few. I’m consistently LOOSING more than I’m adding! “Society” tells me I can’t say quite a bit of my vocabulary. Those words were hard to come by! I think there are more “bad words” this year than the last so I decided to reclaim my words before I RUN OUT!
Then a friend from my book group, whom I’ll call Mr. B. said he was spitting mad when some guy on the road flipped him the finger; it ruined a good half of his day. One day he thought to himself, “What do these guys mean by this action?” and upon reflection he decided it meant, “Have sex!”
The next time someone held up a digit in his direction Mr. B. immediately thought’ “That nice guy wishes for me to have LOTS of sex. I like sex! What a nice fellow!” AND SO my friend grinned widely and waved rigorously and in exaggerated mouthing said back, “THANK YOU!”
For the rest of the day Mr. B. enjoyed the sweet memory of great confusion on this fellow’s face. He’d reclaimed the finger! nancymauerman.com
Don and I in the back seat watched Dad lick rocks as he talked to the farmer about the weather. They finally got around to the reason we were there. We’d heard from others in the rock club that there were great rocks on this guy’s land and if we asked and closed all gates the farmer would gladly gave us directions.
Everybody knows if you wet rocks you’ll see what they will look like when they’re polished. So like most all rock hounds, Dad licked and looked at many of the rocks that formed a loose wall around the farmer’s cottonwood tree.
Finally the guy talk was done and the directions given but as Dad was opening his car door the farmer said, “You know, all week my dog christens those rocks and every weekend you rock hounds come along and christen them too!”
The joy of licking rocks faded that day like jello sitting next to mashed potatoes on a Thanksgiving plate! So when you see rock hounds in the desert thirsty but not drinking from their water bottles you’ll know they’ve probably learned not to lick prechristened rocks. inancymauerman.com
My friend said he just buys junk books for his little kids. As a kid’s book author and illustrator who is eating cold chicken in its own water for breakfast while I blog in order to add a little more time to my day so I can redraw and rewrite my books, I quake inside.
Then it occurred to me; we’re kids MUCH longer than we are adults!
Except for a few years in my early twenties when I forced myself “to be grown up” and by this I mean I pretended not to want to play or to be delighted with wrapped up presents and cookies. Except for those years the peculiarities that were me at two are still me. Now they are simply modified. Just as importantly, the damage done and good love given that shaped me have not AT ALL CHANGED!
The two year old me stood with me at three and she was there at thirty just rendered down like strong soup or healed but remembered. Then all was focused into talents. In a few days I’ll be sixty three which means I will have been three longer than I was sixty two.
Not only are we kids longer than we are adults so love your kids and get them the best books. nancymauerman.com