The Garden of Fruition

 

fruition - noun - state of being actual, complete

Perhaps many of you out there are looking to find fruition somehow, searching for a sense of completeness. At the risk of sounding trite, the state of being actual may be close to being within your grasp. I'll give you a hint: perhaps the wholeness you have been desiring can be found where seeds meet soil and the vegetables and fruits of life grow abundantly. Yes, perhaps what you want can be found in a garden. 

I am a gardener; however, I am not a master gardener. I am a forever-inchoate landscaper who plays by ear, goes by intuition, and listens to those who have more experience with getting their hands soiled than I have. In April, I sold my house and my vast English garden on which I had labored for over twenty years, planting flowers, perennials but also annuals, annually. I got my tanned hands dirty, my crooked fingernails outlined with black, my Walmart sneakers and torn jeans muddy in the spring, summer, and fall. I didn't mind. It was all part of the plan: to work in collaboration with Nature to create beauty. According to my friends and relations, I succeeded and have the photographs to prove it. 

Strangely enough, I don't miss my miniature Versailles in Jersey, probably because I've replaced it with a vegetable garden, not mine per se, one that belongs to others, one that is kept alive by a community of us voluntary seedsmen who toil on arid land under the heat of the sun in order to help eliminate hunger and homelessness on a boulevard called Venice in a portion of L.A. with the same name. On Thursdays, I join a former stage actor who would rather work for a nonprofit than teach the children of movie stars just because she likes to be outdoors, watching and watering and waiting, producing good food and sharing it with us volunteers and the hapless few who live in their parked cars parallel to the garden. With downturned smiles, they watch us as we till, dig, hoe, pull, and plant. Their hands are as filthy as ours, but the mire does not come from gardening. Theirs originates from the grime of poverty and/or mental illness that takes opportunity and/or psychological/medical aid, not just soap and water, to wash it away. 

I can't save the world albeit I have been trying for about 45 years now. What I can do is plant one seed at a time and harvest what grows to fruition. It just makes me feel whole. Try it. You just may wind up feeling the same way.

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life,  #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing, #truth, #society, #good advice

The Dating Scene: Los Angeles at Present versus New York in the Past

 

snooker - verb - trap, trick, entice (Google)

Dating in any city isn't easy, especially if you happen to be a woman 65 or older, and you haven't really dated for a long time. I am talking decades here. The last time I dated for an extended period of time was back in the early 1980s when I was a roommate on someone else's lease in Manhattan. Fifty (yes, fifty) years later, I am on my own lease in a luxury apartment in Los Angeles, dating men I am meeting online as opposed to organically (meaning in bars, clubs, and parties as I once did in New York).  What has changed? Well, not too much. 

To be fair, I will focus on what is an obvious difference: technology. Five decades ago, there were no smartphones, just landlines. Unless you had an answering service (which was costly), you had to be in the right place at the right time to receive a call, i.e. in your apartment. Or if you were hard to pin down, you had to depend on your roommate to imitate what is, at present, known as voicemail. If she wasn't all that responsible, she would forget to tell you who called. If she was, she'd write you a message and snooker you intentionally (or not) by sticking the minuscule note somewhere you'd never think to look, like on the side of refrigerator as opposed to the front. Ergo, it was rare that dates were arranged via the technology of the day. Well then, how were they planned? Usually at the location where the initial meeting took place or via unusual, creative circumstances. For example, I once enticed a date by posting my phone number in the window of my office skyscraper. I couldn't help but notice a very handsome salesman who had an office directly across the street on the same floor as mine. I waited until he looked directly over at me before I posted it in very large letters. He copied the number, called me, and we arranged a meeting. As I recall, we saw each other quite steadily for about six months before we broke it off, but not before I spent time with him at his Park Avenue apartment and his family's house in the Hamptons. Sweet. 

What remains the same? Men in general. Which makes perfect sense because human nature doesn't change over time, just technology. The sameness is particularly pronounced in both New York and L.A. At present as in the past, most urban men prefer not to commit to anything resembling a relationship if they can absolutely help it. What they deem to be perfect love is more or less what my mother (1917-1999) called "sex and sandwiches," casual sex and conversation sans much else. To be fair, most are willing to take you out to at least two dinners and spend a few bills as opposed to treating you to a roast beef on marble rye at Yummy's (L.A.) or Zabar's (N.Y.) before they make an attempt at seduction. Rather big of them, I'd say, or perhaps not, if you get my drift, ladies :). 

Okay, okay, I do seem a bit cynical as I am sure that there are citified women out there who are just like men in this respect. I can't help it if I keep meeting men like the aforementioned. This is a personal essay after all. Don't forget that I am limiting my critique to men in cities where trite expressions like "I'll be done in a New York minute" are coined for a reason. The urban populace tends to be impatient. Sexual satisfaction must come within the first three dates if you want to grasp anyone's loyal attention. You must have watched at least one episode of Sex and the City. Right? 

The bottom line is that I refuse to throw up the white flag of surrender. (In my city, no one would notice it anyway.) I figure by the time I am 75, most men of the same age in L.A. (where I reside) won't be as adept at sex as they once were, so they might have to rely solely on their sense of humor, talent, and/or intelligence to secure companionship. I think I can wait ten years as there is no safer sex than sincere affection in the way of hand holding and hugging :). No snookering will be necessary.

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life,  #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing, #truth, #satire, #society, #good advice, #critique

"Spirit" in the Sky: A Critique of Commercial Airlines

 

penchant - n. - a strong or habitual liking for something or tendency to do something (Google).

In the sixties, seventies, and early eighties, I used to have a penchant for traveling via commercial airlines, the key word here being "used." After flying to L.A. from New York, L.A. to Portland, L.A. to Boston via Philadelphia, L.A. to Vegas, and L.A. to Ft. Lauderdale via Houston in under four months, admitting to being "spent" would be an understatement. I am exhausted, not from adventuring forth, but from the means by which I adventured: the airlines themselves. Ugh.

To be fair, not all of the commercial airlines are half bad. It is also necessary to take into consideration that I fly "steerage," what the liners refer to as "basic economy," the lowest common denominator of options. To be entitled to the reduced fare of basic economy, you must take only one carry-on that has to be stowed under the seat in front of you and must agree to join the crammed occupants inhabiting stiff, straight-backed, third-class seats on the jet in the way, way back. As bad luck would have it, I usually find myself in row 30, right in front of an ever-flushing john, surrounded by screaming infants in considerable distress, much to the dismay of their parents, who are apathetic to the comfort of their fellow passengers. When I find myself in this unfavorable position, "You only get what you pay for" tends to reverberate through my head. Ugh.

But I digress. In case you don't already know, Delta is about the best corporation in the sky. Even if I do find myself where I don't want to be, sometimes I might have a row to myself in addition to complimentary beverages, a snack in a small package, and movies projected on the headrest of the seat in front of me. Although overworked, the flight attendants are generally industrious and agreeable. 

On the other hand, American and United can both be problematic. The former tends to emphasize the extremes of classism by dividing the cabin into thirds: first (upper class), business (middle class), and coach (lower class), making those relegated to steerage think they are mutually stuck in a third-class berth on Titanic. The last time I flew American, one of the flight attendants mysteriously disappeared, causing a delay of about an hour. The company's excuse? The euphemistic, "Oh, there was a scheduling conflict." Yet murmuring through the crowd was the probable rumor: "The flight attendant forgot something in the ladies' room and went back for it, never to be seen again." For whatever reason, the latter, United, usually experiences delays, especially from their hub of Newark. Ugh. 

By far the worst airline I've encountered is yup, you guessed it: Spirit. Like People Express before them, Spirit believes in customer service for a price. They nickel and dime you for everything. It is flying at the bare minimum, no frills whatsoever. Actually, I'm surprised the passengers don't have to sit on the meagerly carpeted floor. And if you are unfortunate enough to be caught on the runway for over an hour in the middle of the night due to a corporate scheduling error regarding gate availability, the flight attendants (who do pretty much nothing because there is nothing for them to do) won't even offer the incensed passengers any free leftovers from the barely touched, pay-per-portion refreshment cart. No kidding. Yet they smile and laugh just to convince you they own what was formerly known as "the ole college spirit," living up to their employer's name: Spirit. Ugh. 

In summary, traveling economically via commercial airlines these days is not for the weak at heart. You have to be tough and tenacious. Take it from an experienced, yet frugal flyer who has gone up in biplanes, a stunt plane, and even a balloon. If you have the money, spend it flying first class on Delta. Although you will probably still have to wait in line somewhere in the airport, at least you'll be able to relax in comfort once you are on board. No "ugh's" in sight. 

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life,  #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing, #truth, #satire, #society, #good advice, #critique

Losing on Jeopardy?

 

jeopardy - noun - exposure to or imminence of loss or injury

Looking to find a basic definition, I googled "jeopardy," and guess what I came up with? The television game show, of course! Jeopardy has been on the box for forty seasons, boasting over nine thousand shows. Which says a lot. It says that enough people out there in TV Land (network TV Land) are interested in seeing just how much they learned in all of their years of schooling. Ergo, for decades, they have played along with the three contestants chosen from a deep pool of erudite individuals. But as we all know, when it comes to Hollywood, nothing is as it seems to be, especially in a town that invents fantasies and perpetuates them.

Today, my daughter and I drove onto the Sony Pictures' lot in Culver City (definitely one of my favorite L.A. sub-cities) unprepared for what the morning and a portion of the afternoon would bring us as members of Jeopardy's studio audience. Personally, I thought the experience would be more like being in the house at Jimmy Fallon's show where one observed an even taping and only had to applaud when the flashing light labeled APPLAUSE warranted it. It was more of a live broadcast. Being in the stands at Jeopardy was quite different, like being an extra on a movie set sans the omnipresent catered cuisine and eventual paycheck. We volunteers had to do a lot of cueing up and waiting in corralled herds (common on movie sets), listen to and follow through with multiple directives, and maintain patience while the production crew corrected misspellings on the board and overdubbed some of Ken Jennings's and the contestants' words. We, about a hundred naive tourists, were put in jeopardy as human flaws were being perfected in real time. Of course, no one in the audience realized that the studio system was taking advantage of them since both the parking and ticket to the show were free and so few things in life are free. On the other hand, as P.T. Barnum once said, "There's a sucker born every minute." And Hollywood makes no exceptions. 

On the totally positive side, while we were lined up single file outside against the wall of the soundstage, polished Ryan Seacrest, Dick Clark's successor and new host of Wheel of Fortune, drove up in his new muted-gray Austin Martin (yes, I know how much they cost), parked parallel to our firing line, stepped out three feet in front of me and gave me, my daughter and a few other stunned onlookers one beaming Hollywood smile. He was, to be honest, a sparkler, perhaps better looking in real life than on TV. Being able to drool over him for a New York minute was worth the complimentary ticket to Jeopardy and what it yielded.

Needless to say, as many of you bonafide fans already know, the contestants don't lose even if they lose. The second and third place gamers walk away with 2K and 1K even if they wind up with nothing earned. One could say that the audience is at a loss, but it really depends on how you look at it. We did walk away with a thorough knowledge of the recording process and the recognition that it isn't easy. 

My recommendation? Even if you are a huge fan, don't buy a plane ticket to L.A. just to see a taping. Watch the show at home where you can call out the answers–whether they be right or wrong–and throw popcorn at the tube if you feel the answer to the inevitable question was too vague or misleading. We in the audience didn't have those luxuries. I actually missed them. One thing is for certain. If you at home continue watching the show, you'll never be in jeopardy of losing it. 

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life,  #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing, #truth, #satire, #society, #good advice

Whether or Not Weather Affects Personality

 

weather - noun - the state of the atmosphere at a place and time as regards heat, sunshine, wind, rain, etc. 2. verb - to wear away or change the appearance or texture of 3. verb. - come through a storm 

Weather is a common noun in the English language, so well known and frequently used in fact, that few ever bother to research its meaning. The verb forms are perhaps not as familiar, but language arts teachers in American middle schools might suggest them as "strong verbs," if indeed the "strong verb" is even taught anymore. But I digress. 

At the center of this one-sided conversation as the title indicates is whether or not weather affects personality. I am sure there is scientific or psychological evidence proving that it does via named maladies. For instance, there is SAD or Seasonal Affected Disorder, which my daughter swears she has as documented by her manic depressive experiences in Boston and New York where the climate and atmosphere were and still are bi-polar as well. Now that she lives in Los Angeles, a city of not only angels but extraordinarily, consistently sublime weather, her syndrome is no longer apparent. She only gets manic when confronted with the insanity of the drivers on the 405 and elsewhere. There has been no proof of depression, though, just threats of overt violence that could be explained by the fact that she grew up and learned to drive in Jersey.

Which brings me to my point. Although I have lived here in SoCal for just over a month, I have noticed some patterns as is my habit, good or bad. As is the case in any large city, quite a few of the inhabitants are from elsewhere other than Southern California. So far, I have met people from Brazil, Mexico, countries in Asia, France, England, the Midwest, the South, the North East and Middle Atlantic states. What I tend to see daily is that native Californians are easy to pinpoint in a crowd of foreigners. They stand out simply because they are unusually congenial, sunny. You know, like the weather. I'm not saying the transplants aren't nice; they can be, but their dispositions just aren't as...hmm. Ebullient? 

Case in point, last night I attended a read-through of a play that I will be stage managing this summer. When I walked into the room, only about three unabashed actors were talking, breaking the ice with friendly chatter while the others sat in silence, staring vaguely at their devices. Feeling the contrary vibes, I said to myself, All of these people aren't from around here. And I was right. Only three out of eleven (most likely the chatterboxes) were from California, something I discovered by doing a bit of sleuthing. I looked up the area codes of their cell phone numbers the following day to find that my assumption was correct. Most were from the Midwest. 

So what can I conclude? The weather pretty much everywhere is not consistent, and neither are the affected personalities.  Even when said personalities are in a consistently sunny place, they aren't always sunny themselves because, well, their past environmental conditions jaded them somewhere down the line. 

Weather can and does influence human disposition, but just because you don't live in Southern California or aren't native to the state doesn't mean you can't be cognizant of how you present yourself to others. 

The takeaway? Don't let weather weather your demeanor unfavorably. 

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life,  #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing, #truth, #LiteraryCriticism, #satire, #society, #real estate, #good advice

Notes from the L.A. Writing Conference

 

bumptious - adjective - self-assertive to an irritating degree

Suffice it to say, I have been writing, publishing, and selling books since 1997. Although I would not describe myself as a "successful" writer because success today entails generous monetary receipts, but I have sold 5,000 copies of all four of my self-published titles entirely on my own in a glutted market. As an aside to those colleagues who have self-published recently, in 1997, the market was open to you. Stores in the present that charge you for shelf space in their stores actually used to buy your books and organize signings for you. Yes. You were treated just like a traditionally published author, meaning well. In short, it was a perfect world. Now I find myself looking for an agent like so many of you out there because it is just easier in the long run albeit perhaps not as potentially profitable as you might think. For instance, an agented writer who sells 5,000 copies at $10.00 a copy will walk away with $2,500 to $7,500 whereas a self-published author taking advantage of free on-line e-book publishing could make $20,000 to $35,000 and maintain control of the entire process. I, unfortunately, did stuff my wallet with that kind of cash as I  spent too much on paying printers, reviewers, and Amazon that takes potential profit from you upfront. Yet as I mentioned, things have gotten a little easier for the literary entrepreneur as long as you rely on online resources. 

Today, I shelled out about $350 (everything included, even the two pitches I made to agents) to attend the L.A. Writing Conference held in an unaccommodating hotel (as far as parking and food go) next to LAX. The would-be author attendees were calm, cool, and collected–not a one obnoxiously bumptious. Although it was not my first conference, I gleaned a lot from it (and if the stars line up correctly, maybe representation–keep me in your prayers), some of which I'd like to share with you. 

Just what are contemporary agents looking for in terms of the writing? 

1. Concise, dense language with minimal tropes (such as similes and metaphors) and adverbs (Stephen King doesn't like them either). As someone with a master's in creative writing, I disagree, but apparently practically nude syntax sells. F. Scott Fitzgerald's books might never have gotten a sideways glance in 2024. Thank Goodness he published a hundred years ago.

2. Too much in the way of scenes and little in the way of summary. (Don't let dialogue take over.)

3. Stay away from trite gimmicks like dream sequences.

If you are in the process of querying agents, remember to...

1. Watch your tone. Don't be overly familiar. No one wants to know that you have been writing since you were two.

2. Do your homework to find out what goes into a query. Make sure there are no typos.

3. Mention comps in your query even if the piece is fiction.

4. Start blogging and connect with organizations on-line that feature writers like yourself.

5. Know your audience. 

6. Put time into your synopsis. 

Ultimately, be disciplined, maintain a sense of humor, and be open to criticism. Do not even think about giving up until you have received at least 100 rejections. (Hint: What is selling right now is psychological thrillers and romances. If you have a fantasy, step in line as most of the pages entered for critique at the conference belonged to that genre.)

Good luck to all pursuing this avenue. Is it tough? You betcha. It isn't a route for the squeamish hitchhiker to thumb down. 

#advice for writers #publishing advice #writing conferences #L.A. Writing Conference #self-publishing #traditional publishing #literary agents 

L.A. as a Parallel Universe of New York?

 

parallel universe - noun - a world conceived of as coexisting with and having certain similarities to the known world but different from it in some fundamental way (Google).

In the early 1980s, I knew New York well as I worked and lived in Manhattan. Obviously, over a period of roughly fifty years, it has grown into something other than what it was back then, something indefinable, at least to me. At present, I reside in Los Angeles, nearly 3,000 miles west. Even though I have been a resident for just a week, I can say that these American hubs are the same, only different...parallel universes in a sense. 

What are the similarities? For one, there is commonality of origin. Just about everyone I have met here so far either was born in the New York Metro area or arrived here relatively recently, cementing my theory that L.A. is just a suburb of New York, a grouping of cities tied together by freeways at the southern end of the continent, a continuum of vast, uneven topography. To exemplify this observation was a cashier at Target from Brooklyn who actually admitted that he missed the weather in New York; for some unfathomable reason, he was actually mourning the loss of snow shoveling. To which I replied, "The grass is always greener" or in his case, whiter (with snow). Yet only a native New Yorker would complain about the near perfect atmospheric conditions in L.A. Another similarity (other than the recent earthquake in the suburbs of New Jersey, which seemed to come as a gift direct from SoCal) would be the traffic. Most in New York would swear that the traffic is worse here; but for the most part, it is the same, the difference being that there is equivalent volume but fewer roads merging into each other, accounting for the jams. Yet if you migrate here fully prepared for the stop and go, go and stop on the 405 or the101, PCH, etc., it isn't irking at all, well, not terribly so anyway. It is just another test of patience. As for the cost of living, it is pretty much the same albeit the gas is more expensive here (and you will pay a lot for car registration) and the utilities, yet the apartments are cheaper (and much nicer as many come with pools and fitness centers at no extra charge). Some restaurants are not as expensive as New York eateries; however, car washes are twice the price albeit experts will wash your car by hand. Give or take, everything balances out. 

Conversely, there are a few noteworthy differences. One monumental dissimilarity would be in the disposition of the inhabitants. Perhaps due to the prevalence of sun, individuals here are kinder, more polite. And like the sun, they shine; their ebullience sparkles. While some envious New Yorkers condemn L.A. congeniality as "fake," it feels pretty real to me. Unlike most New Yorkers, liberal or conservative, people in L.A. seem to take the climate crisis a lot more seriously and work to curb it. For example, the garbage collectors here go through your trash with a fine-tooth comb. If there is something in the circular file that doesn't belong there, you receive a warning and a checklist of what you can or can't include in it. In addition, the DMV requires all gas cars, no matter how new, to go through a smog test for sixty dollars at places that look like they used to be gas stations. Although this has nothing to do with the environment– even though I have been driving for fifty-five years (I started when I was ten...don't ask)–I had to take a written driving test like I did when I was seventeen in Jersey. And it was hard being that it was on nearly one hundred pages of material. Apparently, some of the laws governing the roads here are outside of the norm. In terms of these polarities, balance doesn't come into play.

Parallel or not, the universes known as New York and L.A. will always have their arguable pros and cons. The truth of the matter is that both cities are magical enough to fall in love with at first sight. If you can't afford to live in either, at least you can visit. From what I know, there are about thirty flights going back and forth between the two cities daily. If you book in advance and don't mind flying steerage, you might pay below $300, which is pretty cheap, all things considered. Flights might even be a bit less to either depending upon where you call home in the U.S. Wouldn't it be nice to formulate your own tale of two cities? 

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life,  #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing, #truth, #LiteraryCriticism, #satire, #society, #real estate, #good advice, #LosAngeles, #NewYork