We make surprising discoveries about ourselves at the oddest of moments. Life has a way of turning on the lights and beaming the answers to our questions when we're looking the other way. Not the wrong way. Just in a different direction. I know you know the feeling. Like when a poem spills onto the page and only later you read what you've written and the shock of your feelings on paper feels like a jolt of electricity to the heart. Like when a song comes on the radio at the right moment and everything stops because THOSE WORDS were written for you and you know the voice is yours and the story is yours but the lyrics are something you've never heard or sung before. How could it all be? How could this all be?

I haven't heard this song in years. I didn't even know until moments ago the song was sung by Linda Ronstadt. Don't ask me to trace the circuit of how I found this song tonight. What matters is that when I heard it, my heart stopped, my eyes closed, and the years rewound to a place where I thought the words were mine and the song was mine.

I still don't have the answers I seek and the words I want to write are still a work in progress. But sometimes a song falls out of the sky and seeps into the notebook you keep, pages filled with memories and dreams you're going to write about... Some Day. One Day.

And that day is now.



Love will abide, take things in stride
Sounds like good advice but there's no one at my side
And time washes clean love's wounds unseen
That's what someone told me but I don't know what it means.

Cause I've done everything I know to try and make you mine
And I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time

Caught in my fears
Blinking back the tears
I can't say you hurt me when you never let me near
And I never drew one response from you
All the while you fell all over girls you never knew
Cause I've done everything I know to try and make you mine
And I think it's gonna hurt me for a long long time

Wait for the day
You'll go away
Knowing that you warned me of the price I'd have to pay
And life's full of flaws
Who knows the cause?
Living in the memory of a love that never was
Cause I've done everything I know to try and change your mind
and I think I'm gonna miss you for a long long time
Cause I've done everything I know to try and make you mine
And I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time

written by Gary B. White, Universal MCA Music (ASCAP)

This is For You -- and anyone else -- Out There in the world that stops, drops and listens to a song, a poem, a story, the words drawing us in and reminding us of something more than dialogue and setting and plots and lyrics and music to make true connections in the oddest of synapses and crevices.



I should quickly explain the reason why the song "I'll Stop the World and Melt with You" triggered so much Cosmic Thought last night. Cryptic is good for our mss, not our friends. {}



Saturday night. One child out. The younger girl with us. We originally intended to go see WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE but we decided to wait until both girls could see the movie together and with us.



We decided on a lovely Japanese dinner instead. My daughter has been craving for sushi for weeks. It's not my favorite but I Did It For Her. The restaurant was elegant but comfortable and the food was delicious (if you think, like my daughter does, that eel rolls are delicious; I went for the safer selection of chicken teriyaki). Everyone was happy (except for the eels that sacrificed their lives for the happiness of my child).



Driving home last night with our younger daughter in the back seat, we put on our favorite Saturday night radio show: WFUV 90.7 FM, Vin Scelsa's Idiot's Delight. (Nan, I bet you know about Vin since we grew up in same area. Does the name ring a bell? He was part of the 102.7 WNEW-FM late night lineup when Rock Lived at that iconic rock radio station for the important years of our growing up stage.) {}



For reasons I am trying to find out (via Vin Scelsa's message board), at appx 11 pm, Vin played "I'll Stop the World and Melt for You." (I should back up here. When we had the show on earlier in the evening, author Jonathan Lethem was Vin's in-studio guest. We had dinner plans (with the daughter) and then we had an hour to go to the Book Revue-- yes the Book Revue nanmarino came to see Buzz Aldrin a few months ago and shared her book, Neil Armstrong is My Uncle and Other Lies Muscle Man McGinty Told Me, with the world-famous astronaut and the very same Book Revue the world-famous writer Melodye Shore, newport2newport, shared a few special moments with me on her visit to Long Island far too long ago.


Yes, Nan, nanmarino, that's your photo! I hope you don't mind seeing it again!Thank you!

(A special note here to Mary Cronin, maryecronin: I can never leave a bookstore empty-handed. Last night's treasure? Two collections of poetry by Mary Oliver to add to my overstuffed poetry book shelves-- not that I am complaining.)

When we left the store at closing time, Vin was in the middle of a long, musical set. "Stop the World" played. My daughter was electrified. "Love this song!" she told us. "It's on my IPOD. I play it all the time!" I had no idea she knew the song. It was wonderful to be able to sing together. I was sorry we were close to home when the song ended and we had to get inside to let the dog out. I didn't get to hear Vin explain -why- he played the song. Was it a random call or was there a specific meaning behind its selection? (With Vin, you never know.) {}

I told my daughter we would have to rent VALLEY GIRL and watch it together. "Stop the World" always makes me think of Valley Girl and Nicolas Cage as the weird, gothic boyfriend to perky Deborah Foreman's Valley Chick. Used to love that movie and it will be fun to see it again with my daughter. "Stop the World and Melt with You" will forever conjure up images of that last scene as Cage and Foreman drive off into the sunset.



The night is winding down. I was in my office late last night. The house, so hushed and serene and quiet. My favorite part of the day. Alone with my files and keyboard and music.
I turned on the television and flipped around until I stopped at PBS and the movie ADAPTATION. I've always meant to see the movie from start to finish but it's never happened. And there it was with one hour left and there was.. Nicolas Cage, of all people, playing the screenwriter in ADAPTATION. (The scene where Cage's character is abused by STORY'S Robert McKee in the midst of his infamous writing seminar is classic and a must-see for all writers. Now I HAVE to rent two movies: Valley Girl and Adaptation!)



I wanted to know the actors' names in ADAPTATION. I clicked onto its IMDB site and poked around.

Here's where it gets weirdest of all.

I had NO idea ADAPTATION was directed by... Spike Jonze!




How much more breathtakingly wired could this all be?

"Melt the World" segues into Nicholas Cage segues into Adaptation and Nicholas Cage and Spike Jonze segues into WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE directed by Spike Jonze!



It was all just tooooo weird. (Okay so now there are three movies that circled into my life last night: Valley Girl, Adaptation, and Where the Wild Things Are!)

And it was all because of a random moment on a radio station and sweet music that brought together mom, dad and daughter in a moment of sweet harmony.

It's crazy what a song can do, isn't it? {}



"The book has no story. There's no story." (Alright. Make one up.)

...except every word in this story, my story, is true
and even if you didn't live it,
you've felt it
and if you've felt it,
now it's your story, too
and if you didn't write it,
you can read it
and that makes all the difference in the world.
That's the wild thing about writing and reading.
Your stories are true for someone, somewhere.

...and he's frightened.

I'll say it over and over until I'm blue in the face. You can't lie to kids. They are smarter than adults. We have to protect them from the grown-ups because the grown-ups know how to manipulate, trick and deceive. Kids want the truth.

Promise me YOU The Writer will give it to them.

Sharing a sister's dilemma. It's fodder for thought for those who think writing for children is easy.

We want our audience-- today's child-- to relate to our work and words.

How far do we go to connect to how they think and what they say? Are we selling out or reflecting truths?

I know one child does not speak for many or all.

But.

Yesterday, my almost-10 year old niece received an updated/amended invitation to a Halloween gathering at her Very Good Friend's house.

Whether I believe this or not, the Halloween Party mom said she had no idea the girl was printing up this edited invite to give out to friends at school.

The original invite did not include a mandate for choice of costumes.

In this follow-up version, the girl told her friends:

"We are now all going to dress alike.
We are all going to dress as a pimped-out ref."

A...what?

I don't even know for sure what a pimped-out ref IS.

But I think I get the point.

A PIMPED-OUT REF?

One mom read the invitation as she cleared the papers out of her daughter's backpack after school yesterday. A chain of phone calls ensued, one mom calling another to ask what this was all about.

I need to add these ten-year olds all have cell phones and MacBooks and closets bursting with designer jeans. This is not a negative characterization. This is what they are (or have). They're all charming and sweet and curious and lovely, the child you all were once upon a time.

I don't want to sound like an old fuddy-duddy doofus.

But are these the kids that are going to relate to my middle-grade novels? I've searched my characters, and not one of them has ever suggested her friends dress up as pimped-out refs.

I know. I know. If it's authentic and organic to the story, it works. It might date a book but it is reality.

But still. Behind closed doors, I don't know these girls and now I worry they are not going to want to read the books I write. They are probably not going to find a pimped-out ref anywhere between my pages. Does that make me yesterday's news?

Oh yes. I have moved into Cliche Territory. But no one loves a good Jewish Mother joke as much as... a Jewish Mother.

This is a guilt-free post. My first and last. Guilt is my middle name. It's in the DNA.

Yes, I've been neglecting you, Live Journal. But that doesn't mean I don't love you.

Okay. I am guilty. Live Journal has allowed my wings to stretch and my words to soar. Why do we always hurt the ones we love best?

Yes. It's true. As much as Twitter and Facebook have become integral facets of our writers' community, I will always think of Live Journal as my child. And a Jewish mother will never turn her back on a child. You can never do anything wrong. It's our fault you went crazy, robbed a bank, cheated in school, cut your beautiful hair into that unattractive mullet, got a ticket for talking on the cell phone while driving (because of course you were talking to your mother at the time, darling, blame it on me).

And so now I will tell you All that Is True: Live Journal, you are my favorite child. DON'T TELL YOUR SISTER! May G-d Strike me dead if she ever finds out! ;>

If Guilt is a foreign object to you, if nothing ruffles your feathers-- how do you live like that? I have no idea-- let me invite you into the Twitteleh world. This is what Jewish Guilt feels like: Don't worry about me. I'll be all right. That's right. You don't have to call your mother. Don't write. I'll live. I don't want to obligate you.

But let me ask you before you run off to be with your, sniff, new little friends:

Are you hungry? Can I get you something? You're schvitzing. Are you hot? Here. Sit closer to the air-conditioner. I'll sweat. It's all right. I'm your mother. What? You're cold? I don't need my three sweaters. You do. Put them on right now. Over my dead body will I let you shiver. Tired? Sit down so I can rub your toes. Take a nap. I'll watch the kids. Better you should rest. You don't want circles under your eyes, do you? So tell me: Is there anything I did right today?

I'll be back. I'm JoNoWriting!

May you find joy in your every dream



...and may some of those dreams end up as books on shelves with YOUR name on the spine!

Happy Birthday, saputnam! (with great thanks to newport2newport for always remembering to remember her friends) {} {} {}

-Pamela, still reflecting on the inner peace found in my recent Cape Cod journey and sorting out the emotions I carried home in my heart

Picture book author looking to share booth this Sat.@ popular Harlem Book Fair. http://www.qbr.com/
Interested? Know someone who would be? Looks like a great promotional and selling event.

Please E-me: Writer Ross at g mail dot com

As the hours of this day passed, it troubled me that as hard as I tried not to get pulled into the vortex of death's calling card, I could not avoid the siren's call of sorrow.

It's the fear of death that compels so many of us to create, to make a lasting impression, to make the art we love and make it matter.

And yes, when someone young dies, we cry "Oh gone too soon. Gone too soon."

I'll just cry that Someone is Gone. I don't even love that my little girls are no longer little girls. Childhood: gone too soon. And confession time: I miss my childhood, too. I didn't know there would be endings then. I don't like knowing that now. I don't want this to ever end.

Life: Gone Too Soon.

Found this clip-- a lovely montage of Michael Jackson's life-- produced for BET but never aired.

Feel it.

So many people in this world I'll never know
So many states I've yet to see
Do you ever worry time will slip away before you get to do it all?
I do.
I carry a notebook
and carry the faces and places of where I've been with me
I try to remember it all
and even if no one else gets to know their stories
at least, for that one moment, I feel a connection
I step outside myself
and see there's more to life than all I think I know
Yes,
I'm searching for connections
on this ribbon of highway
Words are not photographs
I can't paint you
I can't capture your image
but I can write what I see in you
and who I think you are
I hope that's enough
I hope someone out there is going to remember
I once existed
I hope someone out there is thinking,
if only for an instant,
Hey.
What about... her?
I wonder what she's thinking?
Do you ever wonder if people care
about your life?
And will you matter
One Day?
You do.
You do.