by Kathy Brasby | Mar 25, 2013 | Hope
Because I am currently in first place in my group’s March Madness bracketing, I’ll reveal my system. It seems to be working as well as my granddaughter who, last year, got a long way in her brackets by picking the winners based on their mascots. Cutest won, I think.
I wish my system was as sweet.
March Madness Experience logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Mine is simple and fast: pick the games based on ranking and, when rankings get close toward the center of the bracket, go with defense. We’ll see how that works out in the final rounds.
But my favorite March Madness story goes back many years, when I was a cub reporter on a tiny newspaper that didn’t even have typesetting capability. This was waaaay before the Internet.
So I traveled to another site a hour away once a week to get our newspaper typeset, arranged, and sent off to the print shop.
One of the employees at our sister site was big into office pools and he insisted that I put in my dollar for the March Madness brackets. Each round required a new dollar but I wouldn’t see him for a week. A dollar seemed a polite and easy way out of plunking down a dollar a day.
When I got back a week later, I discovered that I had won the first day’s pool. And Kent reinvested my winnings because he knew I’d want to do that. Uh-huh.
Well, I won a second time during that week. And Kent knew I’d want in every day.
By the time I got back to manage my winnings, there were none.
So that year I won twice in March Madness, had nothing to show for it, and it only cost me a dollar.
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by Kathy Brasby | Mar 20, 2013 | writing
Technology and writing may seem odd companions, especially for someone my age. In my defense, I do have a teenage son. I admit that he claims I rode dinosaurs to school and took notes using a chisel, hammer and piece of slate.
Which I think is a pretty lame description considering I sent out emails holding him in my arms (well, arm while I typed with the other) and taught him how to operate a mouse before he could read.
And the coolest thing I did in the last year was uncover an old advertising sign I painted while selling Apple computers. I’m talking Apple IIe computers with the painted logo in vintage colors, not the new silveresque look. “You sold Apples?” He wasn’t quick enough to hide his surprise.
Well, a mother doesn’t reveal everything to her teenagers.
OK, after that digression, I’m here today to tell you about this cool blog that I enjoy reading. Author Media is devoted to melding technology with writers, including a few who didn’t sell Apple computers way back when dinosaurs marched through the streets.
A recent post made me laugh: “Why you need a hashtag for your next book.” If you don’t know what a hashtag is, check out their site. If you do know what a hashtag is, you may not have considered one for your next book. So it’s still relevant.
Their motto is to “help authors timid about media.”
And I might add, to help authors who can’t read enough about media and technology and all that. It is impossible to keep up with the expansion of technology and the internet. Author Media helps some.
I’m not sure they target writers with chisel and hammer but, on the other hand, maybe they do. If you’re not familiar with their site, check them out.
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by Kathy Brasby | Mar 18, 2013 | Hope
I didn’t think we were going to Cuba until two days before we boarded an airplane at Cancun and headed east. “Americans can’t go to Cuba,” I told our missionary host.
Fortunately, he ignored me and we went. Four days were spent in Havana before we drove across the island to the mountains at the east end.
English: (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
On our first night in Havana, we went to a fancy restaurant where waitresses wore black dresses, white aprons and white caps. Like old-fashioned maids. Glittering crystal adorned each table with heavy silverware resting on starched napkins at each place setting.
And a pianist filled the air with sweet music.
When he saw us, he recognized us as Americans. Americans are rich in Cuba. No matter what money we had.
So he immediately began playing tunes by Frank Sinatra. Cuba seems lodged in the 1950’s and the musician must have assumed that Sinatra melodies would net him a nice tip from the Americans.
Emboldened by his strong Sinatra performance, the pianist then approached our table. “I know many other American songs,” he said. “What would you like to hear?”
My husband leaned toward him. “Could you play Amazing Grace?”
The man frowned slightly as he searched his memory banks. He finally shook his head. “I do not know that one.”
We smiled at each other and then my husband surrendered. “How about some Sinatra?”
“Oh, yes, sir!” The pianist scurried back to the piano and played instead I Did It My Way.
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by Kathy Brasby | Mar 13, 2013 | writing
I like ideas. I’ve told people that if they don’t like this idea, I’ll have another one soon. Ideas are building blocks for a writer.
I want to explore new ground, ask playful questions, look for a new angle. Get me out of the rut and into the fresh air so I can breath deep and dance to a new song.
OK, the dance stuff is melodramatic but you get the idea.
My newest tool in the adventure is Paper by 53, an app for an iPad. Paper is basically a sketching app but its beauty and simplicity caught my eye. Plus the promo said that this app was where ideas began.
Ok, then. Ideas are good. I downloaded it.
I’m still playing with Paper but, so far, I like it. The app store describes it as a digital cocktail napkin but that limits it too much.
Paper lets me write or draw in an attractive notebook with a quill tip pen. A very nice blend for a writer: lush paper and a great pen.
Using either my fingertip or a stylus, I can write, doodle, sketch, draw to my heart’s content. I’m not a good artist but doodling helps free ideas and make associations.
Plus, I get to play with ideas in a digital atmosphere that I can then email to someone or post on Facebook, Twitter or Tumblr.
I tend to lose notebooks (and pens) but this app hangs onto those ideas for me until I’m ready to develop them. And the overall look of Pages soothes my right brain and lets my analytical side take a rest.
The basic app is free. You can add watercolor pens, brushes and more through in-app purchases.
At this time, Paper is only for the iPad. But if you have one, give Paper a spin.
You may explore new ground, ask playful questions, and find a new angle. What can it hurt?
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by Kathy Brasby | Mar 11, 2013 | Hope
A good story is like a nice collection of chocolates: it’s hard to have too many.
In my 20’s, before I had children, I hung out with my friends’ kids. Kids and stories are made for each other.
At age 4, Rene already loved a good story. And, lucky for me, she thought my stories were good.
Together, we crafted a story about Paintbrush the Smurf who lived in Smurfville and loved to paint. (You had to be there.) If we had much time together, we’d work our way through our stories.
But Rene enjoyed other storytellers as well. One evening I was invited to her house for dinner and I arrived before the meal was ready.
“I’ll read you some books,” I told her, “if you want.”
She spun and disappeared into her bedroom. And didn’t come out.
Well, I thought, she must not have wanted stories read after all. I waited a while and then started for the kitchen to chat with her mother.
At that moment, Rene burst from her bedroom, her arms stretched out, holding what looked like every book she owned. I’m not sure how she squeezed all those volumes between her hands.
Of course we sat down and read. Who cares about dinner when you can read about Corduroy and a runaway bunny?
Her brother was less enthralled with my stories but that was OK because he had a way of supplying me with fresh material.
One day he visited my house and planted himself before my computer. There, Ken played a dartboard game for a long time.
Then he raced out of the room and flung himself at me, energy exploding from his face. “You know that Darts? Two people can play it so I decided to play against myself. I played and played. And guess what?” He was nearly breathless. “I won!”
Their younger brother came along a little later. By that time, I had a son who was just a year older than Curt. On my son’s birthday, he was at kindergarten and I was babysitting Curt who wanted to help make the birthday cake.
So we pulled up a step-ladder so Curt could reach the counter and began putting ingredients in a bowl. I stepped away to grab the flour, turning back in time to see Curt slam two eggs against the edge of the bowl and drop the glob -shells included – on top of the butter and sugar.
“Do you do that at home?” I asked him.
His eyes wide, he looked up at me. “No. My mother won’t let me.”
A good story makes the day a little sweeter
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