by Kathy Brasby | Feb 6, 2013 | Technology, writing
A smartphone is a gift to writers and here’s another reason why.
We had just finished a guitar-led round of folk songs for the local nursing home when Mary turned to me. “Remember the old cassette tape recorders? That sure would be helpful when we learn new songs. We could listen to them over and over.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “I always have a recorder with me.”
She stared at it. “I have a phone like that.”
“Then you don’t need a tape recorder.”
It’s easy to forget the tools we already carry with us. Not all writers use smartphones – and a few refuse to carry a cell phone. But most of us carry our cell phone all the time. And if you do, check out the voice recorder on your phone.
My iPhone 4s will transcribe messages as I speak into the microphone. I have collected story and article ideas while on a walk, allowing the phone to write down what I’m thinking. It will convert spoken words into text messages or grocery lists.
Obviously, I can record interviews for articles. Once at a workshop, the speaker announced he would do a special poetic reading. Although I didn’t record the entire workshop, I did record his poem. And I’m glad I did, for he did an eloquent interpretation.
There is a bit of a learning curve but it’s worth experimenting with the feature. Very few of us carry a cassette tape recorder with us all the time but most of us have a cell phone.
Have you checked into your cell phone’s features? Do you have favorites?
Like this:
Like Loading...
by Kathy Brasby | Feb 4, 2013 | writing
I love a good story as well as any one and a good character is even better.
So let me tell you about Barney. Just for the record, I have changed his name although he’s passed on now. I worked with him over 20 years ago. I was still trying to get life figured out and he was hanging onto whatever life he had left.
White-haired with a big belly and a gruff retort, he was dedicated to his work. And his opinions.
One day, Barney settled into a chair at break time and announced loudly that Major League Baseball games were fixed. “You know that somebody decides who’s going to win every game all season. That’s why I don’t watch baseball. And I can prove it. Ever watched a double header? How often does one team win the first game and the other team win the second? Because the fix was on!”
Um, OK. I leaned forward. “Well, they use different pitchers for each game.”
He snorted. “What the world difference could that make?”
I let him win that one.
Not long after, his opinion gave him another opportunity. Barney had worked in a Ford dealership most of his career and was devoted to Fords. In our shop, we had one Ford delivery pickup and it caused our service guys many problems. It was a chronic lemon. But Barney believed in it because of the Ford thing.
One day he was asked to run some parts to a town about 90 miles away. Barney, of course, opted to drive the Ford. Our service manager told him they’d been having some recent issues with it but Barney squared his shoulders and let his white hair shake back. “It’ll be just fine,” he said.
Our service manager wasn’t going to tangle with that glare.
So Barney and his wife headed out to deliver parts and enjoy an afternoon on the road. Two hours later, our shop got a call from Barney. The Ford had broken down on the road.
The service department guys, once they got done laughing, sent a semi truck and trailer out to haul the Ford home. When the truck returned, we all rushed to the big window to see Barney’s face. Instead, we saw the Ford strapped on the trailer with Barney and his wife still inside the Ford, staring straight ahead.
A little breakdown hadn’t dampened his opinion of Fords one bit.
Like this:
Like Loading...
by Kathy Brasby | Feb 1, 2013 | Personal
If it weren’t for apple pie, I’m pretty sure I would have been a high school dropout and begun a checkered career involving recycled bicycle parts and horseshoes.
But that’s a story we won’t have to write because my mother was an ace pie baker. None of this thawing a pie and sneaking it into the church potluck. My mother wouldn’t even use canned pie filling.
She would buy 30 pound cans of frozen cherries at the end of summer and re-package them into pie-sized bags, sprinkling the cherries with corn starch and sealing each for the winter pie season. That was as close as she got to prepared pie fillings.
Her children were devoted but naive fans of her pies. If we ever got a bowl of the cherries during re-package day, we’d sprinkle our cherries with corn starch just like Mom’s pie filling. Even though the corn starch squeaked against our teeth as we ate the fruit, we couldn’t imagine cherries any way but Mom’s.
Our Thanksgiving feasts were not much about the turkey and a whole lot about the arrangement of pies, from pumpkin to apple to mincemeat. We saved room for an afternoon of dessert.
Mom baked a pair of pies the day before her stroke. Now her left arm hangs limply at her side and we don’t know if she’ll ever make another pie.
I am going to learn to make pies. I have avoided that arena because Mom’s pies are legend in our family. They were beauties with a golden crust sparkling with the sugar sprinkles. Mom’s pies were the reason to invite family and sometimes a lucky neighbor over for dinner.
It seems right to learn. Not to replace Mom’s heritage, for I can’t begin to do that, but somehow to honor it.
Like this:
Like Loading...
by Kathy Brasby | Jan 30, 2013 | writing
Jeff Gerke, who changed the face of Christian fantasy/speculative fiction, has written a fascinating post about expanding his Marcher Lord Press titles to include A Throne of Bones, not your average Christian book fare.
I’ve met Jeff and respect his faith and his insights. I found his reasoning interesting, especially in today’s Christian publishing world. I’d encourage you to check out this article, Marcher Lord Press and the Hinterlands Imprint.
Like this:
Like Loading...
by Kathy Brasby | Jan 28, 2013 | Personal
I know the last three months of my life have only been unique for me. I’m not the first to lose my father followed shortly by my mother’s stroke.
We’re still walking that ragged path of stroke recovery with my mother. We’ve seen astonishing progress when we look back three months. Looking back a week, not as much.
Perspective matters.
My sister and I, as our mother’s primary support, have not collapsed into a puddle of tears or wafted into dramatic hysteria. It’s not our way but that doesn’t explain much.
Certain things matter to help stand firm in the face of overwhelming fear and stress, such as:
- Flexibility. My plans for my day can change in a moment and there’s no point in hand wringing. Change gears and go on.
- Priorities. Maybe I haven’t cooked as many meals for my family, but I’ve made it a point to eat dinner with them. We make times for laughter and conversation even though I’m with Mom at least three hours a day.
- Faith. Our family believes God has not left us or Mom. We don’t question whether God did this to her. Neither does my mother. She trusts him to care for her now and to take her home one day.
- Good health. Even my mother, felled by the stroke, is in pretty good physical health and so are my sister and I. It’s tougher to maintain a stringent schedule with nagging health issues.
- Optimism. Our family assumes Mom will get better, although we know there’s a chance she may never return to full activity. But we’re looking for the gifts God gave her, such as the ability to talk and use her right hand and leg.
- Friends and family. Not only do many neighbors and friends check up on Mom and prayer for her, but total strangers are weighing in to encourage and support her recovery.
We walk day by day. And we’re doing all right so far.
Like this:
Like Loading...
