Psychic Surprise Parties

Noreen Lace asked it first – How do you Throw a Psychic a Surprise Party?

And her answers (read that as stories) don’t disappoint.

The Healer’s Daughter watches her mother change before her eyes and fears for own future.

In Mirror People, a woman tries to save her sister from an obsession which may cost both of them.

The Crier, some people believe, is a miracle worker.

And how does one throw a psychic a surprise party? Find the title story within these pages and discover the answer.

How to Throw a Psychic a Surprise Party is available in print, ebook, and soon to come in audio form.

Noreen Lace is an award winning educator and author. There is a beauty in language that speaks to the soul. It can’t be replicated by AI or articulated on the screen. She live in Language, California with her poe-cat Annabelle.

Hope to see you, in one way or another, at the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books!

The Loss of Real Literary Journals and Publishers

Many of my publications have been in literary journals of one type or another. I haven’t minded the small fee, once in awhile, for submission. 

But I have noticed fees have skyrocketed while many journals have gone online.

What’s worse is the slush pile of new “literary” journals asking for enormous fees. It’s disturbing and disgusting.

Questionable people with little or no credentials offering publication ONLINE. While they don’t guarantee publication, they are asking for fees and then one place even asked for payment for the publication in advance!

Submittable does charge a fee to journals to list their calls, but their fees are not in line with what is being asked by these questionable entities. (I hesitate to call them publishers).

Humans of the World is a website that asks for $6.00 fee to submit to their blog. Authors/writers pay to have their work on this blog? A quick tour of their website offers no publisher information – who is this run by? Who reads the submissions? How are submissions chosen? It appears they’ve been in business since 2022.

Poet’s Choice, based in Mumbai, has a number of calls, one is for word poems. I spotted an error in their call. There appears to be no fee requested – until you get to their submission page. Then they have a whole array of payment selections.

So – why haven’t I published in awhile? Look around – the publishing industry that we once knew is history.

I’m struggling to find reputable places to publish – as are many authors. Amazon takes many liberties with authors and they bought Ingram/Spark. Independent publishing is in question.

Credible journals are being lost. Publishers are extremely selective – they want someone with a large following for guaranteed sales. They do little to no promotion.

I have submitted some poems to a publisher, but then someone else showed me how they submitted an AI poem to the same publisher. I’m wondering if that is what I’m competing with. I’m looking forward to seeing the results of acceptance.

I’m not sure what will happen, where we will go, or where I might land. But I’m a writer. I keep writing.

A New Year State of Mind

I’ve been asked a number of times, “how was your new year?”

To which my response is: It’s still the New Year, right? It’s still 2024?

No, I’m not being a smart smartass, although I’m certain some see it that way.

The new year is not just about a single celebration followed by a hangover the next day.

The new year is a promise filled with hope and trust. We carry that magical Believe attitude into the future and make plans far beyond the holidays to change, to improve, to love our lives.

We are able to begin anew, fresh starts, new growth and wrangle this next year into what we want to be and what want our lives to be.

Many people give up their resolutions by week 3, and some push into month 3, but what if we can hold on to that New Year state of mind longer.

It is still the new year. I will still call out to you Happy New Year as we pass each other on the trails or in the shops.

The future is upon us. It’s here. Enjoy. Celebrate. Not only did we make it through the last, we’re living the promise.

Happy New Year!

On the Eve of a New Year, Some Thoughts on Change.

As we straddle yet another old and new year, let’s think of the person we want to be and/or the kind of world we want to live in.

So many complain about the world – the rise of unhappiness and anger which makes us dread interactions.

Each one of us, on our own, have the power to change the world.

Any large change starts small, begins with one, then moves to some; it inspires others, and a movement grows with each new person who joins.

In considering our goals, our resolutions for the New Year, let us add to that list an effort to be kind, be patient.

Hear me out – if we come across someone who is driving like a Manhatter chasing a white rabbit, instead of reacting in anger, whether they cut us off or not, we could react with compassion- perhaps they’ve had a bad day, are upset with something, did not even realize they were driving aggressively.

With any little tresspass, a rude servant, a thoughtless shopper, a random stranger behaving questionably – We can choose to act instead of react. We can choose to walk away or step back.

Smile more this year. Forgive the little things. Give a random stranger a compliment.

To help, to start your day on a positive note, write three things every morning you are grateful for. They can be small things – like birdsong – or big things like health. We rarely think of health or being pain-free until we are ill or injured. Be grateful for what you have. Foster the attitude of gratitude to fill your well and pay it forward in gentle, loving, kindness.

I am thankful for this new year – welcome 2024! May I be better than I was in 2023.

I wish us all love, may we be met with patience when we need it, acknowledge kindness when we see it, and offer thoughtful gestures to those who are working on their own goals.

HAPPY 2024!

The Atomic AI

Oppenheimer serves as a parallel to what is happening in our world now with AI. They created something to expedite the end of the war, but it was destructive. Once the genie was out of the bottle, there was no putting it back in, there was no containing it or controlling it. The Atomic Bomb changed the world.

AI is changing the world. There is no containing it or controlling it.

The writer’s strike is about so much more than many understand. AI can replace all the writers in Hollywood and beyond. The future of television shows and movies can be/ may be created by AI, but this is about the Actors too. AI cannot only duplicate images but create and manipulate images. The future need for actors is questionable.

Wait, there’s more. AI may displace a whole industry of people. The grips and gaffers, the drivers and all the others who count on making a living around this industry. Beyond them, there’s a whole group of businesses and people that serve these people.

Christopher Nolan didn’t use CGI to replicate the blast of the atomic bomb in Oppenheimer. I wonder if he is a hold out, if he values the activities of creation and replication without the use of computer generated scenes and images. I don’t honestly know.

While I sat in the theater, I wondered what it might like to see a movie in 5 or 10 years without the use of writers or actors; the whole thing created on a computer screen. Would we be able to tell? Would we see the differences between the way humans move and AI generated images move? Would we be enjoying our AI movie with lab grown hamburgers?

Where does that leave writers – novelists and short story writers? I imagine AI can write a novel faster than any of us. A short story might be executed in mere minutes, rather than days, weeks, or months of perfecting.

Will our originality win out? Or will people start preferring what AI can generate? Perhaps readers won’t know the difference.

Does my purpose continue to have place or value? I write. I have always written. I will continue to write. But will it ever see the light of day or will it perish unread and unknown?

The Necessity of Wasted Time

I treasure the cool mornings in my garden surrounded by the soft sounds of birds twittering with drought tolerant blooms that still have the power to attract butterflies and nourish the bees before we all begin to struggle from the mid-day heat.

This is my time. A time before the day starts. A steaming cup of tea at my side and my cat at my feet. Occasionally, the neighbor’s cats stop by for a quick stroke before they’re off chasing a roly-poly or a grasshopper.

The gardener’s haven’t yet begun their buzzing, blowing, clipping, and mowing, and the traffic sees only a neighbor or two starting their day. It’s serene. Regenerative.

Therefore, when someone recommended I save my “wasted garden time” as a reward for a full writing day, my whole body reassigned itself to the back of the chair as I studied her. I felt profoundly misunderstood.

“It’s quite hot in the afternoon.” I offered. “I can’t really sit outside in the 105 degree heat and feel regenerative.”

She didn’t have an answer to that, but tried to offer another option.

Writer’s, let us be honest, need down time. There are times when things are flowing and we are bleeding words, we sit day and night at the desk or table or in some random chair maybe even at a coffee shop or even in the 105 degree heat in some shaded place in our car while we wait for an appointment and we write and we can’t write fast enough. But there are times, the juncture before those, or the moments after, when ideas percolate.

At times, it may seem we are doing nothing. We are wasting time in our gardens or traveling or walking or doing whatever it is that makes us who we are and fills our well with tranquil reflection. This is the place where our stories lie dormant, waiting for us to give attention to them, offer them life.

Temporary cessation is (sometimes) necessary for regeneration. Consider injuries: Does the doctor tell the athlete, “after you run a few laps, then you can rest it”? Or does the Rest Ice Heat Elevation come before the next laps?

Recreate is to Re Create.

Writing and Critique Groups

Many years ago, I belonged to my first writing/critique group. In the beginning, it was great to get together, talk about writing, and read each other’s work. We were all novice writers.

There was a session when one member, the most critical of all of us, spent the whole time helping a single writer with the few pages she submitted. We didn’t get to the rest. None of us were too worried about it. The point was to help one another. The following session, however, the same member looked at my pages and threw up her hands, “I don’t even know what to do with this.” And she offered nothing. The rest of the group was as surprised as I was.

I don’t know what about those pages ticked her off that she wouldn’t respond to them but driving home that day I realized I was not in the right group. I didn’t attend again, and the group disbanded soon after.

Finding the right group has to be one of the hardest tasks a writer faces. Of course, we want writers equal to or better so the feedback is helpful. Personalities matter as well. If there is someone who waxes too critical without being helpful or another who is overly helpful and won’t be critical – neither is furthering the work.

Some writers might have different values.

One writing group was run by a well known editor. She had a certain way of doing things and everyone needed to do it her way. I respected her opinion. We got on well, even if sometimes we disagreed. One woman quit after a month. She didn’t see how all of our very different work and styles benefited from sounding all the same.

I stayed with that group a little longer, valuing the feedback I received. But then it was time to move on.

My writing and critique partner who lasted the longest offered me the greatest feedback. The more we read each other’s work, the more we talked about our goals for each individual piece, the better partners we became. And, we became lifelong friends along the way. Her work is sensitive, detailed, almost understated. And even though our writing was different, we understood each other’s voice and values. We were able to give each other helpful feedback on a regular basis. Her infirmities have left her without a creative streak. And as she tries to heal, I cannot ask her to read my work.

The few writer’s conferences I’ve attended have drawn people to me – but they are looking for a teacher, a mentor, and I can’t mentor all of them and still have time to write.

There were a few authors I would like to remain in contact with, but they have their own critique groups and want to charge outsiders for their services.

Critique services are good for editing, perhaps some are good for storylines. But trusting someone who doesn’t know you or your goals often ends with needs unmet and the critique unsatisfying.

Maybe a writer doesn’t need a writing group or critique group after a certain point. But writing is so solitary,it helps to surround oneself with like minded individuals.

Rage Writing

Lately, I’ve struggled to write. Distractions or, maybe, a war with writer’s block. Ideas bloom, but nothing flourishes.

I moved from my comfort zone. That lovely, warm death of a comfort zone. We should destroy them all! I started going elsewhere to write. Many of us write escape the comfort and distractions of home by fleeing to the local coffee house the house. The noise, the activity, and the lack of chores calling to us helps.

The other day, errands unending, I dropped everything – except my computer – and rushed out of the house. While driving, I considered everything I would write as soon as I arrived.

Yet, as I lucked into a good seat, grabbed a cuppa – my creative mind became dark, dank, and blank.

Frustrated, I opened another document and poured it all out. I wrote out everything that annoyed me, pissed me off, enraged me for the last while. Things I wouldn’t normally complain about.

It worked! My writing flowed!

Often, to glow in gratitude, I push off those little annoyances, small worries, not wanting to complain about things that aren’t that big of a deal or will, sooner or later, resolve themselves. But, now I wonder.

Has my lack of complaining mean I’ve been holding back?

Sitting at home this morning, I opened the story I’ve been working on and ….. notta.

I opened my other document, the one I am now going to call RAGE, and wrote. It’s a freewrite of all my worries, concerns, annoyances, little things like the broken light to larger things that aren’t working out as planned. I don’t hold back.

Ah… FREEDOM!

In a few minutes, I switched over to my current story and found flow. My story is coming together. I’ve accomplished more in the last week than I have the whole three weeks prior. I feel more focused, clear, and able to make decisions about the direction of the story.

Try this, please! If you’re struggling with a story, or writing in general, just start rage writing whatever comes to mind, and then take a deep breath, and move over to your story. Let me know if it works for you!

AI Fiction – are the last vestiges of humanity disappearing?

For the first time, I saw a call for fiction with a warning about AI submissions.

Is this what we, as writers, have to contend with now? I’m pretty confident in my fiction and the originality, the use of language, etc. Do I have to compete with AI in writing good fiction or original fiction? I’m just not certain how this will work for writers. (I suppose this is partly what the writers’ strike is about).

I was concerned enough about students using it in the classroom and we are told “not to worry, work it in with exercises.” Uhm, why? I’m trying to teach my student writers how to form sentences, create meaning, develop paragraphs and write to include their own beautiful and important opinions and ideas. Why am I going to say – hey, let’s see how well AI can write this idea? The students are concerned enough about their skills; if we show them that AI can indeed write it better, will they bother to improve?

Writing takes time and practice. I put in my 10,000 hours. (plus!) One can not develop those skills overnight.

Many seem to believe writing is a skill you’re born with. How will I convince students and writers that it’s the work, it’s the blood, sweat, and tears, that will bring about beautifully written prose and it will have all been worth it?

When you see for yourself that you can do it, when you write something that you never thought you could – then you will understand the accomplishment, feel the endorphins rush through your body, and believe the work was worth the struggle.

But, if instead, AI writes it, the student/writer never really learns the value of doing it for themselves. (let alone the hows of doing it for themselves.)

Is this the last vestige of humanity disappearing right before our eyes? The benefits and rewards of motivation, hard work, struggling and overcoming a challenge. The indescribable feeling of….. yes, I can!

I know many people are telling me not to worry, and perhaps I have fallen into troglodyte fashions of thought and creation here.

I suppose it’s only over when AI can learn to love what it does as much as writers do.

Pain Between the Lines

As I mentioned previously, I was cleaning when a pile of my old journals fell on me. As I’ve been working on memoir, it seems that my journals were screaming, open me, open me! I thought – yes, there’s probably plenty of hidden stories just waiting for me to bring the to life again.

Yet, I haven’t opened one.

There’s a lot of pain between the lines of those journals. It’s hidden now, stored away, somewhere deep inside of me and inside of a box at the bottom of the closet – lest they jump out and attempt to injure me again.

I still think there’s a reason that they fell on me that day. It was, perhaps, a message, a sign for me to open and suck out the pain of the past, use it for my stories, for my memoirs.

I’ve written a number of short memoir pieces and they’ve been published nearly immediately. Good, short memoir, I suppose, it difficult to find for literary journals.

Memoir is important as it is healing – I’ve written about that point a lot; however, it is not only healing to the author, but to the reader. A memoir helps the reader understand they are not alone in their pain and that someone out there survived and thrived.

So – yes – I know, I have to go back into those books. I have to push myself to open them. I have to make sense of them now, as an adult, or even some years away from whatever I might read, and perhaps I can heal little pieces of my chipped soul. And others may understand that they are not alone.