Let’s Get The Party Started!

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writers, writing

Happy New Year to you, my dear friends.

Be sure to join LouAnn and my New Year’s Eve party over at On the Homefront and Beyond.

Yes, that is me . . . dancing on the table. Vanessa is in the kitchen singing with her husband. Someone should cut her off. One martini is her limit. LouAnn is, well, cleaning up the broken glass and calling the cops.

Other than this virtual New Year’s party, what are your big plans for tonight? My husband and I will be rockin’ the town, which is code for being asleep on the couch by 10:30.

Hello 2013!

Let’s rock in the New Year at LouAnn’s place tomorrow night. Can’t wait to see you all. I’ll be the one wearing the lampshade at a jaunty angle on my head.

On the Homefront

The New Year is fast approaching and what better way to say Goodbye to 2012 and Hello to 2013 than to have a party? Robin Coyle and I have decided to host a New Year’s Eve Party, but it will be a party with a difference.

There will be no cover charge, no BYOB, and no outlandish costumes (unless you have one you want to break out). Nope. You are granted access to this party with a positive comment or resolution (songs and dances will be accepted also—but they must be happy songs and dances).

So here is the formal invitation:

You Are Invited to a New Year’s Eve Virtual Party

Where: Here

Why: To bring in the New Year on a positive note

How: By leaving a positive comment or resolution

When: Why New Year’s Eve of course—all day and all night and into New Year’s Day

Come one…

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Virtual Gift Exchange

Tags

Favorite Blogs, Virtual Gift Exchange, writers, writing

I came up with a brilliant idea. Well, I think it is brilliant at any rate.

I recently discovered some blogs and thought, “Why haven’t I heard of these brilliant folks before? Why, oh why, has no one mentioned I should check them out? Why are you people holding back on me?”

Are you like me and have favorite blogs? Ones that never fail to amuse, intrigue, or provide content you don’t see anywhere else? I can hear you saying, “Why yes, Robin! You, you clever girl, you.”

Oh, were those voices in my head, not you?

Are you at a loss as to what to give your favorite bloggers for Christmas? Well, you came to the right place. I am hosting a Virtual Gift Exchange. Give the gift that keeps on giving . . . a shout out to folks you love to follow.

Since bloggers respond to rules, here are a few for you:

Think of your favorite blog(s).

Go on a hunt for their blog address(es). I’ll wait.

Return here to your favorite blog.

Comment below with the name(s) and link(s) to the bestest of the best blogs you love.

www.robincoyle.com does not have to be on your list. Heck, we all know that is a given.

Tie a bow on the gift to your favorite blog(s) by telling us a little about them.

Spread some holiday cheer! Depending on how this comes together, I’ll put all the blog addresses in a post in January.

Have a holly, jolly Christmas, everyone. See you in next year!

P.S. I posted about our family having a different kind of Christmas here. I failed to include a photo of our creativity in wrapping presents when no wrapping paper is a hand. To prove I didn’t make it up, here is a photo for you. Note the handcrafted newspaper bow on the St. Pauli Girl beer box. Nice touch, don’t you think? No, my gift wasn’t beer. I drink wine. The empty box was used to wrap my gift.

Downsized Christmas

A Different Kind of Christmas

Tags

A Different Kind of Christmas, writers, writing

News flash people . . . Christmas is one week from today. Sorry. Somebody had to break the news to you. So it might as well be me.

At 11:43 this morning, Pacific Standard Time, I finished my Christmas shopping.

Jealous?

Don’t be. I had it easy this year. We don’t exchange gifts anymore with my side of the family and we draw names with my husband’s side. That was handled zip-zap in one trip to the mall.

My husband, kids, and I are going to Vail for Christmas. Ergo, no Christmas tree this year to strap to the top of the car, stand back while my husband swears as he puts the lights on the tree, and then decorate it by myself while I wonder if I married The Grinch.

I did take pains to decorate the house though and it looks all Christmas-y around here. I put out three Santas. Viola! 2.5 minutes later, I was back to eating bon-bons.

Since the kids have not been in the same state, let alone city, at the same time this year, no family photo was embarrassing cute enough to put on Christmas cards unless we Photoshopped someone’s head in. We’ll capture a pic while in Vail and for the first time in my married-career, I will issue a Happy New Year card by June or July of 2013. Hey, I’m a busy gal.

Parties weren’t a problem this Christmas season and didn’t tie up my social calendar with loud Christmas sweaters, appetizers lovingly created by Sam’s Club, and one too many highballs. We were invited to one, count ‘em, one party. You can see we are on the must-not-invite-to-the-party list around here.

Since the cost of the flights, car rental, condo, meals, and lift tickets will add up to the gross domestic income of a developing country, we told the girls they ain’t gettin’ nuttin’ else for Christmas.

Well, that isn’t exactly true. We’ve traveled to exotic places for Christmas several times. It is now a tradition to draw names out of a hat (or ski mask as will be the case this year). This ritual takes place on the first night of the trip over a beer (for kids and husband) and a bottle of wine for me. We started this tradition when the kids were six-, eight-, and ten-years-old and Child Protective Services was called in. Some people don’t have a sense of humor.

The rules of the interfamily gift exchange are thusly:

Appropriate dollar limit is imposed out of deference to broke children.

Presents must fit into the overhead compartment.

Gifts must be of the souvenir-ish type, i.e., if in Hawaii, gifts must reflect the Hawaiian culture, heritage, and traditions. Nothing says Christmas better than a Don Ho CD.

Gift purchases must be made while the intended recipient is in the store with you. We like to reinforce stealth and cunning in our children.

Wrapping the gift must include ingenuity . . . Christmas-themed paper is optional. One year, my gift was lovingly ensconced in an empty beer box. The one roll of wrapping paper we bought was used up.

Gifts are to be gently placed under the fake ficus tree in the corner of the condo while eggnog is swilled and we listen to Christmas carols through iPod ear buds placed in the middle of the room. If the volume is on high, you can almost make out the words.

I am in charge of filling everyone’s stockings. For Pete’s sake, how else are my children going to get a new toothbrush?

Before you start calling me “Bah Humbug Coyle” behind my back, I love Christmas and all of its trappings. But it is nice to let go of the tinsel and bows from time to time and have a different kind of Christmas.

Let me leave you with a quote from my favorite Dr. Seuss character, the irascible Mr. Grinch.

“It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes, or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

The best Christmas present I am getting this year is being all together as a family for the first time in one year. I can’t wait for a group hug.

Here we are rockin’ around the condo’s fake ficus tree. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What holiday plans have you? Are you finished shopping? Are you ready?

 

Kindle Fire Comes with Ads?

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Ads on Kindle Fire, writers, writing

My husband is a lucky man.

I can hear you all saying, “Yes indeed! He is a lucky bloke being married to you, Robin! That guy sure has it made!” (I love when I can work “bloke” into a sentence.)

Yup .  .  . my husband is a lucky guy, but being married to me isn’t what I am talking about here.

At three recent functions, he won a 36-inch flat-screen TV, a golf putter, and a Kindle Fire. I said, “You can have the TV and keep the putter, honey, but the Kindle is mine!”

Lookie-loo at the cute case I bought for my Kindle Fire, and the not-so-cute glasses required to read it.

I own the first generation Kindle. It was a gift from said lucky husband. Because I am a book snob, I was skeptical about the whole electronic book thing, but I love it. How handy to have dozens of books tucked in my purse. I look up words on a whim, highlight favorite passages, and sometimes let the book read to me. I love the image of a literary giant smiling up at me when I turn on my old Kindle. Maybe it is more like a sneer while they silently say, “Shouldn’t you be writing rather than reading Fifty Shades, Robin? Shame on you.”

So, back to my new Kindle Fire. It has advertisements! I kid you not, advertisements!

Day One of Kindle Fire ownership, I dusted off the cares of the day, put on my jammies, and snuggled with my new electronic device. It is not nearly as cozy as snuggling with my beloved, but a nice way to wind down from the day.

I fired up the new Kindle and what greeted me? An ad for AT&T’s 4G Network. Turn the damn thing off, turn it on again, and what do I see? A commercial for Streisand’s new movie The Guilt Trip.

I’m ok watching TV and having commercials. Less ok with anything but previews at the movie theater. But on my book? A commercial? No way, Jose.

Imagine cracking open your dog-eared copy of Romeo and Juliette and an ad for o-romeo-o-romeo.com is on the first page. Or, curling up with 50 Shades of Whatever and an ad for Viagra greets you at the door. Good grief. Product placement has taken over the literary world. Mr. Shakespeare would be appalled.

I understand Kindle sells these ads to keep the price of the device low. How thoughtful of them. Don’t they make all their money on book sales anyway, not on the Kindle itself? I guess you can pay Kindle $15 and opt out of the ads. Sounds like extortion to me. I’d rather spend the 15-smack-a-roos on more books, so I’ll put up with the ads.

For the record, I am not reading Fifty Shades of Grey and have no plans to. My mother won’t return my copy.

 

The World Reaches out to the Sandy Hook Community

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Sandy Hook Elementary School, Sandy Hook Elementary School Address, writers, writing

Something wonderful happened at my blog.

What, Robin? What? Were you Freshly Pressed again?

No.

Did Santa deliver dozens of new followers?

No.

Did your blog land you a book deal?

No.

For crying out loud, Robin. What happened?

Something much better than any of the things you guessed.

My blog has had hundreds of hits from people looking for Sandy Hook Elementary School’s address after I posted it here on Friday. It is a small indication of how many tens of thousand looked for the address elsewhere. Our friend Oma reminds us to think of the police, firefighters, and paramedics here and gives us links to how to contact them. Let’s not forget the teachers and staff of the school either.

It warms my heart that people from around the world want/need to express words of sorrow or comfort to the Sandy Hook community at a time when adequate words are hard to find.

It helps restore my faith in humanity. The world cares. One madman can’t change that.

Broken Hearts – Facebook Cover Tribute (Photo credit: Daniel M. Reck)

Related articles

• Want to Send a Card to Sandy Hook Elementary School? (robincoyle.wordpress.com)

Our virtual Christmas cocktail party tonight is canceled. Our hearts are too heavy. We may do a healing party on New Year’s Eve. Love to you all and be safe out there.

On the Homefront

Just a little heads up. The Virtual Christmas Party is cancelled. I will be writing a lengthier post shortly, but thought I would tell you that out of respect and  broken hearts, Robin and I have decided to postpone the party. Our thoughts and prayers are with the families of the Sandy Hook Elementary School and the town of Newtown, Connecticut.

As Maya Angelou said: “Each child belongs to all of us.”

UPDATE: Robin has provided us with an address for Sandy Hook Elementary School, 12 Dickenson Drive, Newton CT  06482 if you want to send some words of compassion, encouragement or prayers.

 

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Want to Send a Card to Sandy Hook Elementary School?

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Sandy Hook Elementary School, Sandy Hook Elementary School Address, School Shooting, Write to Sandy Hook Elementary, writers, writing

Today’s tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School as left me feeling legless.

Are you like me and want to help the families of the victims of today’s senseless shooting rampage, but don’t know what to do? I want to give each of them a hug, and while not a religious person, I want to say a prayer on bended knee with them.

Our friend, Paula Action, shared the school address with me. While far short from a comforting hug or shoulder to lean on, sending a card or letter expressing our sorrow, support, and condolences is at least something. The nation mourns alongside the community. Knowing that we do might help them a bit. As Paula suggested, writing a note would be a lovely thing to do with the family tonight. Excellent idea, Paula. Oh, and pass the word to your friends and family.

The school’s address is:

Sandy Hook Elementary School

12 Dickenson Drive

Newtown, CT   06482

Chess Club at Sandy Hook School in Newtown, CT. Simply heartbreaking.  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Connecticut Shooter Kills At Least 27 at Elementary School

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Shooting in Connecticut, writers, writing

Oh. My. God.

My heart is breaking. What has happened to our world? Beyond saying bless their poor souls, I am speechless.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/15/nyregion/shooting-reported-at-connecticut-elementary-school.html?_r=0

Why?

Related articles

• Dozens Killed in Newtown, Connecticut, School Shooting – WSJ.com – Wall Street Journal (online.wsj.com)
• Obama: ‘Our hearts are broken’ for families of Connecticut shooting victims – Fox News (foxnews.com)

Virtual Christmas Party

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Virtual Christmas Party, Virtual Cocktail Party, writers, writing

Remember the grand and glorious time we had at my virtual cocktail party? No? Oh, that is right. You had too much boom-boom punch as passed out in the shrubbery.

The charming LouAnn over at On the Homefront and Beyond stole copied loved my virtual cocktail party idea and forced begged invited me to co-host a virtual Christmas gathering with her. As such . . .

You are all invited to a Virtual Christmas Party at

On The Homefront and Beyond’s pad!

christmas 2007 (Photo credit: paparutzi)

Date: December 15th

Where: Virtually Here

Why: It Is Christmas!

Theme: Come as your favourite author or character in a book.

Co-hosts: LouAnn and Robin

Bring: Your favourite appetizer from the 1970′s.

Music Provided by: Rodents and Rebels (LouAnn’s son’s rock and roll band).

Special Entertainment: Margaret Atwood. She promises to be festive!

Headliner: Vanessa Chapman will be singing a song chosen just for the party.

Requirement: Description of your favourite author or character’s outfit, your 1970’s appetizer recipe, and favourite song request.

Lou Ann (you probably remember her as the gal with the lampshade on her head at my virtual cocktail party) and I have put our heads together to create some other fun activities to make this party rock—so choose one or two (or as many as you want) and be prepared to comment on them or provide a pic on party night:
1. Provide a photo of an ugly Christmas sweater or if you are up to the challenge– provide a photo of a beautiful Christmas sweater.

2. Show us a photo (or stick drawing) of your favourite author or character in a book.

3. Don be shy—show us a photo of you dressed up as your favourite author or character.

4. Tell us  the worst line you have ever read from an annual Christmas newsletter.

5. Describe your best or worst Christmas memory (depending on your mood)

6. Tell us the title of your favourite Christmas-themed book.

7.  Tell us about a Christmas tradition you want eradicated from this flat earth.

8. Create your own video or stand up or whatever your imagination conjures up. There will be kids at the party, so choose accordingly.

There you have it—choices galore.

Lou Ann will be serving some shrimp cocktail in champagne glasses with cocktail sauce and champagne cocktails to toast the night with. I am making my famous deviled eggs and coming dressed as Dr. Seuss. Since it is a Christmas party, perhaps I’ll come as the Grinch.

So be there or be square!

Strong vs Weak Words ~ Part 39 ~ The Order of the Story

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editing tips, Self-editing, Storytelling, Strong vs Weak Words, Strong Words, The Order of the Story, Weak Words, writers, writing, writing tips

As you might recall, I attended the Writer’s Digest Conference in Los Angeles in September. I learned a thing or two and felt all grown-up and writerly sitting among real writers.

In one of the sessions, author Steven James spoke about the “Six Secrets to Novel Writing No One Ever Told You.” One of the secrets was the proper handling of cause and effect in your storytelling. Huh. Never thought about that.

Mr. James said, “Everything that happens in a story is caused by the thing that precedes it.” Huh, again.

His premise is you should tell your story in the order things happen. Why make your reader circle back, retrace their steps, and need breadcrumbs find their way back to the trail of the storyline.

Sure, there are places for a flashbacks and circular storytelling if you are so inclined. But that is a topic for someone smarter than moi to tackle.

It is better to propel the story forward, rather than explain what just happened. The difference is subtle, but there is a difference.

For example . . .

Instead of: Main character did yadda, yadda, yadda because something, something happened.

Try: Something, something happened so your character did yadda, yadda, yadda.

In many cases, it is simply a matter of switching the order of your sentence, or sentences, by using “so” or “and” rather than “because” and “when.”

Let’s see if I can make more sense here with some examples.

Charles Dickens squealed with delight when he discovered Robin’s blog.

Chuck squeals?

Charles Dickens discovered Robin’s blog and snorted in disgust.

~~~~~

William Shakespeare followed Robin’s blog because her words are riveting.

 Mr. Shakespeare is Robin’s biggest fan.

Robin writes nonsense so Billy-boy Shakespeare unfollowed her blog.

 ~~~~~

“You are one smart cookie,” Robin said to John Steinbeck when he praised Robin’s blog.

He must have been hitting the bottle.

When John Steinbeck wrote a scathing review of Robin’s blog, she said, “How could you be so cruel, John-John?”

~~~~~

How about a longer example in a non-Pulitzer-worthy paragraph form . . .

Robin put a shelf up for all the new awards she was sure would come her way because she wrote what she thought was brilliant blog post. She screamed in horror when there was a mass exodus of followers because of the drivel she wrote. Moments before, she was happy as a clam at high tide. Embarrassed, she took down her blog and faded into blogging oblivion. Robin’s post offended many bloggers.

In the above example, here is the order of what happened.

Put up a shelf
Wrote a blog post
Screamed
Mass exodus
Was happy
Quit blogging
Offended bloggers

Robin wrote what she thought was a brilliant blog post. She was happy as a clam at high tide and put up a shelf for all the new awards she was sure would come her way. But her drivel offended many bloggers and there was a mass exodus of followers from her blog. When she saw people leaving in droves, Robin screamed in horror. Embarrassed, Robin decided to give up the ghost.

In that example, the order is linear.

Wrote a blog post
Was happy
Put up a shelf
Offended bloggers
Mass exodus
Screamed
Quit blogging

See the difference?

For the record, I have 148 “because-s” in my novel. I’m off to see what I can do about that.

Don’t forget I put all of the Strong vs Weak Word posts under a link on the left sidebar in case you need a cure for insomnia.

I love Idioms

Tags

Colloquialism, Idiom, writers, writing

Idioms for Idiots (Photo credit: petersejersen)

I inherited my love of reading from my mom. Books played a central role in my upbringing. When I was five or so, I asked my mom if I could spend the night at a friend’s house. Because it was a Sunday, she said no. Shocked by her utter disregard for my happiness, I ran away from home. Of course I was caught within minutes. My punishment? She refused to read a story to me at bedtime that night. In my five-year-old-book-loving brain, my sentence was cruel and unnecessarily harsh.

Mom also taught me to love a good turn of phrase. To me, writing is like playing with building blocks to make a beautifully structured story or paint a picture. Fitting words together is an art and when done well, the engineering behind the construction is transparent.

My mom is (or I should say was) a master at pulling out a pithy expression, or idiom, to fit the moment. Here are some classic mom-isms.

Now that is a Benny sent me.

She would say this whenever she needed a paperclip, pencil, or whatever, and found one right at her fingertips. I have no idea about the origins of this expression. Do any of you?

~~~~~

I was nervous as a pig on ice.

I’ve never seen a pig on ice, but I get the idea.

~~~~~

That is as handy as a pocket in a shirt.

Nothing is handier than a pocket when you need one.

~~~~~

I feel like I’ve been dragged through a knothole backwards.

Mom said this to me after we spent a long day with Dad when he was in the ICU.

~~~~~

He liked to play the spots off the cards.

This was said of my card-game-loving grandfather.

~~~~~

We made it by the skin of our teeth.

Barely made it by the hair on our chinny-chin-chin.

~~~~~

She marched off head up and tail up like a bedbug going to war.

Now that paints a picture.

~~~~~

Our friendship is like an old shoe.

Meaning comfortable, not smelly.

~~~~~

She was at sixes and sevens.

Meaning confused or unsure what to do next, like me most of the time.

~~~~~

You are barking up the wrong tree, buster.

You are wrong-o.

~~~~~

I have a hitch in my giddy-up.

Me too.

I love an old-fashioned idiom. But remember when we discussed overused and annoying phrases like, “it is what it is,” “at the end of the day,” and “it is all good?” Do you think today’s idioms are tomorrow’s quaint expressions?

Does your family have a colloquial expression you’d like to add to the list?

The Magic of the Written Word

Tags

Alzheimer's disease, Cursive Writing, The Power of the Written Word, writers, writing, Written Words

I witnessed the magic of the written word today.

Did the words end world hunger or bring peace in war-ravaged lands? No.

Did the sweet cooing of undying passion conveyed in a love letter win another’s hand in marriage? No.

Did a sincere and sorrowful note of apology mend a family torn apart? No.

So what happened, you ask?

It was the mysterious way that the reading of words transformed my mom’s state of confusion and agitation, to one of coherence and peace.

Let me explain.

For those of you who have stopped by here over the last few months, you probably caught wind that my hale and hearty 89-year-old dad became gravely ill in early September. He has been in and out of hospitals and nursing homes since then. He takes one step forward in his recovery and then gets cut off at the knees with a new and serious health condition. It has been a frustrating, scary, and all-consuming experience for my family and my sweet dad. We almost lost him countless times.

The aging process doesn’t deal an even hand. My dad’s body is failing, but his mind is sharp. My mom is healthy, but her mind is shot. She has Alzheimer’s.

So, while Dad has been convalescing, Mom has been living with my sister and her husband. They get, as my mom would say, “leather medals” for what they have done for her. I know my dad’s worry about mom has impeded his recovery. Dad agreed that the time had come for Mom to move to a place appropriate for her needs.

I’ve been in Portland for a week to find such a place. I found a charming apartment for her in a facility near my dad. The staff there deserves a “Do Not Pass Go, Collect a Million Dollars, and Go Straight to Heaven” card.

After many long and round-about conversations with Mom and showing her how cozy the apartment is, she agreed to live there. She loved the place.

Then . . . I moved her things in.

Then . . . I brought Mom to the apartment.

Then . . . all hell broke loose.

Mom became angry, bitter, and wanted to leave. She transformed to addled, disoriented, and incoherent. There was no reasoning with her. After physically stopping her at the door six times, I was near tears. Because I am prone to melodrama, I also saw my life flash before my eyes.

So what did I do?

I said, “Hey Mom, why don’t you sit here and read the welcome packet from the apartment manager?” Redirected, she plunked down and read every word of the packet out loud. At the end of the last page, she said, “Isn’t this place wonderful!? They thought of everything. I’m so lucky to live here.”

Phew.

I can hear you all saying, “Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . so get on with it Robin. Where is this so-called magic of the written word you were talking about?”

Bear with me. I’m getting to it.

Sure, the welcome packet included interesting things like the times meals are served and the activity schedule. But it also read chapter and verse from the state and federal regulations governing nursing home facilities such as staffing levels, posting of job titles, and nutrition standards. Pretty dry stuff.

Mom’s brain cells were rattling like the balls in a pinball machine until she read the packet. I am not a neurologist, although I play one on TV, but I know it wasn’t what was written in the packet that reassured her.  It was the process of reading the words that calmed her brain. Her synapses were misfiring and reading realigned her brain waves. Mom went from agitated, to almost catatonic, to functioning with appropriate responses and reactions.

Granted, the words Mom read today were not in beautiful cursive as we discussed in my famous (or should I say infamous) “Is Cursive Handwriting Dead?” post. But they were words.

Okay, okay, okay. My point is that I think reading helps us orient to life, brings us peace, and calms the savaged soul. At least it did today with my mom and her cruel companion named Alzheimer’s.

Mom settling in while I look for a bottle of scotch to sooth my nerves.

Related articles

• The Debate Over Cursive Handwriting (robincoyle.wordpress.com)
• Is Cursive Handwriting Dead? (robincoyle.wordpress.com)

The Afterglow of Being Freshly Pressed

Tags

Cursive Handwriting, Cursive Handwriting Debate, Cursive Handwriting in School Curriculum, Freshly Pressed, writers, writing

I lounged in bed on Sunday morning and basked in the afterglow of tingling toes caused by euphoria and the rapture of the night. The sheets were rumpled and damp, the scent of roses lingered in the air, and an upturned champagne bottle bobbed in the ice bucket. Love was in the air.

I turned to my husband and said, “Do you want to do it again, my sweet?”

He groaned, rolled over, and said, “No.”

As I inched my way across the bed I said, “Why forever not, my darling?”

“Because, I am sick to death of checking your blog stats since you were Freshly Pressed, damn it!”

I ignored him and continued to inch across the bed to reach for my laptop. My husband turned on the football game.

C’mon people. What were you thinking? Get your minds out of the gutter. This is a PG blog I have going here.

Thank you to Michelle at WordPress for having a moment of insanity and deciding to Freshly Press this humble blog. Merci to the thousands of folks who stopped by this place for a gander.  Gracias to the all who “liked,” “followed,” and left thought-provoking comments. I will respond to you all as soon as I can. And my deepest gratitude to my blogging friends who keep me motivated.

Last, but not least . . . thanks honey, for indulging me when I asked, “Can we look at my stats just one more time?”

Back to our regular programming here shortly.  I promise. I hope. However, I am currently dealing with more issues with my aging folks.

Here I am looking stunned when my Freshly Pressed post went live. Deer in the headlights?

Related articles

• The Debate Over Cursive Handwriting (robincoyle.wordpress.com)

The Debate Over Cursive Handwriting

Tags

Cursive Handwriting, Cursive Handwriting Debate, Cursive Handwriting in School Curriculum, Freshly Pressed, writers, writing

Gosh, it has been pretty quiet around my pad lately. Let’s see what Robin’s been up to:

I made a meatloaf for Monday’s dinner. Used leftover meatloaf for a doorstop on Tuesday. 

Sorted, washed, and folded 6 loads of laundry. I’m still missing 5 socks. They don’t miss me.

Took a toothbrush to the mold in my shower grout. It wasn’t pretty.

Was Freshly Pressed on Friday.

Walked the dog 3.14159265 times around the block (His favorite number is Pi).

Threw out the last of the Thanksgiving turkey. Thank GAWD that is over.

Whoa, wait, hang on . . . Did I say I was Freshly Pressed!? Yes indeed-y-doo!

Moi? Freshly Pressed? Here’s the proof. I tattooed this screenshot on my bicep.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I received an email from the darling Michelle at WordPress telling me my post “Is Cursive Handwriting Dead?” was to be Freshly Pressed. I offered to adopt Michelle, but she politely declined and then called the cops. Smart move Michelle, but thank you for Freshly Pressing me.

Since being Freshly Pressed yesterday, my in-box is flooded with likes, comments, and follows. It is the coolest thing EVER. Overwhelming, but super fun.

The conversation and emotional response over cursive handwriting’s elimination from 48 state’s school curricula has been lively. Almost visceral. While not scientific, my gut says the majority of the commenters believe cursive handwriting should not kick the bucket.

There is richness to words committed to paper by hand, not keystroke. Cursive forces you to think, pause, and breathe before you write, unlike when you hammer out an email. Somehow a love letter typed on a computer loses some of its sex appeal. Imagine if Romeo sent Juliette a text saying, “Yo, Juliette. Come out on the balcony.”

Sure, sure, sure . . . there were a few folks who commented on the post and said, “Wake up and smell the printer ink, Robin. Cursive is so last decade.” However, a fair number of teenagers and college students agreed here that cursive should be saved. The comments from the electronic-agers give me hope.

Here are a few of the clever comments for your reading pleasure.

Sunsetmeandyou said, “Last year, I wrote a letter to my grandma, scanned it and then emailed it to my dad so he could print it and give it to her the very same day!  Call it full use of technology or the eagerness to send her the letter asap!”

Jiltaroo said her son may never “experience the joy of waiting weeks for a letter to come and hungrily read those words from a country on the other side of the world. Emails have all but extinguished the need for this romantic angst.”

Dennis Langley said, “Hmmm. That sounds like why teach math because we have calculators. Why teach how to play music when we have iPods.”

TimKeen40 said, “But don’t despair. Soon, those who can master it will be able to lend their services to people who have all these letters written by their great-grandfathers that are essentially written in a foreign language. A little mini-industry will emerge at least for a time.”

Now if you will excuse me, I need to respond to six-kagillion comments.

• Is Cursive Handwriting Dead? (robincoyle.wordpress.com)