By the Way... It's Official

I'm off to Wordpress! This site will be here for a while. I can't decide if I want to move everything or not, but now you can find me here. If you're one of the wonderful people who have me on your blogroll, you'll want to change the url eventually.

Hopefully, you'll all follow me there! See ya!

Movin' On Up?

Well, I might be saying farewell to Blogger. I know, I know, I've been here for only a few months, but WordPress now offers free blog hosting. It seems pretty promising. I did almost lose my religion with the first post, but I found that I have to use FIrefox instead of Safari for posting. Right now, the service is rather exclusive as you have to have an invite to sign up, but I'm hoping good things will come of it. I like the categories. I didn't have that here. I guess there might have been some way to do that on this site, but it's much easier on WordPress.

Another plus... you can moderate comments so you can choose NOT to post any spam or derrogatory comments.

Check me out here.

Just Some Observations... From Entirely Too Much TV

1) I watched Ellen today, which I'm totally going to miss when I go back to work on Monday :-( , and she had the INXS with the new lead singer, JD. Mmmkay, I don't get it. I realize I didn't watch the show but this guy just seems like a Hutchence wannabe. He mumbled the words in order to get his voice to match Hutchence's style.

2) How long has the Maury Povich Show been on? At least ten years right? Can someone tell me WHY HE STILL HAS THE EXACT SAME TOPICS OVER AND OVER AGAIN? I flipped through the channels yesterday, and there he was with a bunch of people dressed up as women, and he was asking audience members which ones were women. Today as I'm flipping through channels, he's got teenage girls finding out who the fathers of their babies are. These are the same freaking shows he's had for years!

3) Just once, I'd like to see one of MTV's Super Sweet 16 shows go totally wrong for the birthday girl/boy. Rich little brats.

4) I can't believe I used to watch soap operas, and occasionally they'd make me cry. I was old enough to know better. I was in college for crying out loud, but I drew the line when Marlena got possessed by the devil on Days of Our Lives. These shows are horrible!

5) And one observation not from TV: Surgery really takes a lot out of you. Today, my stir craziness (not just craziness... shut up) got the best of me, and I drove over to my mom's office to take her the large suitcase for her and dad to borrow on their big trip to Branson with the church group (yes, that would be senior adults group). Then I went to the bank and the grocery store, and I came home and virtually collapsed on the couch while sighing, "Damn!"

You Know What? I Don't Feel Sorry for You

I was watching the news reports about Hurricane Rita, and Galveston officials were saying that 95% of the people on the island have evacuated. Thank God! Then they show 20 senior citizens in this retirement home who are refusing to leave, and this woman says to the camera, "This building isn't going to collapse!"

Lady, I don't feel sorry for you. Really, I don't. If you want to be that stupid and stay there, you'll get what you get. I bet the people in that apartment building in Mississippi thought their building wouldn't come down either, but it did. Thirty people died because they didn't leave. After all the images on TV over the past weeks these idiots decided to stay. They won't get an ounce of pity out of me.

NOT Coming to Bath and Body Works Anytime Soon

...Hibiclens Antiseptic/Antimicrobial Skin Cleanser. Know why it won't be showing up there? Because it freaking smells horribly. Oh sure, if you want to go around with the scent of High Karate mixed with Bactine wafting around you, I suppose there's some market for that somewhere, but I have no idea where it would be. And I'm not interested in finding it either.

I had to shower with this stuff Monday night and Tuesday morning before the surgery. I know, I know, it helps prevent infection, and for that I'm eternally grateful; however, I can't stand the smell.

Surgery went okay. The hubby was calm but quiet and worried. Hearing that there was the remote possibility of having to completely open up my abdomen to remove the gall bladder didn't help ease his anxiety, but I made the surgeon reassure him that those instances were extremely rare. They were 40 minutes late coming to take me to the OR - not sure what the delay was all about, unless it was meant to annoy me, which it succeeded.

So I was wheeled into the OR, given some lovely drugs to make me not care where I was and then told to breathe some oxygen through this plastic mask thing. Oxygen my ass. Next thing I knew I was in the recovery area. They gave me some pain medication, but it must have been too much, because the machine next to my head would beep and a nurse would tell me to take in deep breaths. I wasn't the only one having difficulty staying awake. Other nurses were telling other patients to do the same thing.

Danny and I got home around 3:30. I ate some Jell-O, drank some ginger ale, and settled down for a nice nap. I slept 'til about 7:00 then sat in the living room until 10:00 and watched My Name Is Earl and The Office, which are both hilarious.

This morning I've eaten a bowl of grits - the southerner's oatmeal - and I'm trying to walk a few laps in the house every once in a while. The doctor says staying sedentary increases the risk of blood clots and pneumonia, and I'd really like to try and avoid that.

A Feast Fit for an Invalid

Surgery's tomorrow, so we went to the grocery store to buy bland, carblicious foods for my gall bladder-less recovery - Jell-O, applesauce, those refrigerated precooked mashed potatoes ('cause God knows, I'm not gonna feel like cooking them), pretzels, bread, and bananas. I'm not sure if my husband's too keen on my making jokes. He's wound a little tight this evening because any other family member who's gone through surgery has done so as a result of a major problem. I've tried reassuring him that this is a routine procedure that takes only an hour or so.

Maybe I should ask the doc to give him something to relax when I get my happy drugs in the morning.

Need a Slogan?

Then you need Sloganizer! I just found this site courtesy of StephBlog, and pardon my '80s, but it's totally cool. Hubby didn't find it all that amusing but I did. Here are some of my favorite suggestions it came up with for "Sappy Chick's Ramblings":

- The gods made Sappy Chick's Ramblings.

- Sappy Chick's Ramblings - spice up your life.

- Sappy Chick's Ramblings. The power on your side.

- Sappy Chick's Ramblings, since 1845.

- One goal, one passion - Sappy Chick's Ramblings.

- Step into the light with Sappy Chick's Ramblings.

- The wonder has a name: Sappy Chick's Ramblings.

- The president buys Sappy Chick's Ramblings.

- Sappy Chick's Ramblingsrific

- Who wouldn't fight for Sappy Chick's Ramblings?

- Sappy Chick's Ramblings empowers you.

- Sappy Chick's Ramblings after a hard day.

- Sappy Chick's Ramblings on the outside, tasty on the inside.

I've Always Wanted to Be in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade

I went for my pre-op appointment yesterday, where they had to draw more blood out of me just to make sure everything is still okay. I've had at least one blood test a month since May - can we not use some of these results? I mean, I realize that they're not guzzling blood out of me, but I'm starting to feel like a keg at a frat party. And is there such a thing as an adhesive that DOESN'T strip skin when peeling off, 'cause damn, that really hurts.

As you can probably guess, I'll end up asking for pain meds after surgery.

One other thing kind of concerns me. The nurse explained to me that apparently it's pretty cramped in the abdomen area, so during laparoscopic surgery, air is blown in to make room for the surgeon to work. Lovely. It's not like my belly and my ass are fat enough, but now they're going to make me even more puffy. I'm having a vision of the old bitty at the beginning of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Well, I guess Danny can just tie a rope around me so that we can both float home. It'd be cheaper than driving these days!

So you guys look for me on Thanksgiving Day. Maybe I can go down Broadway beside Snoopy. That'd be a hoot!

5 Songs I'm Loving... This Week

1) How Do You Keep Love Alive, Ryan Adams & The Cardinals - Beautiful song, beautiful lyrics: She runs through my veins like a long, black river and rattles my cage like a thunderstorm. I literally stopped what I was doing when I heard that sentence.

2) Sooner or Later, Michael Tolcher - Nice rock/pop music and some cool lyrics: Sooner or later we'll be looking back on everything, and we'll laugh about it like we knew what was happening. And someday you might listen to what people have to say, but now you learn the hard way.

3) Cool, Gwen Stefani - I love that '80s pop sound. Some people I know didn't like her solo album, but for the most part I thought it was... well, cool. Shut up.

4) Breakdown, Jack Johnson - Okay, you're gonna be dealing with Jack Johnson songs for a couple of weeks more because I. Love. This. Album.

5) Wild Horses, The Sundays - That's right, I'll just dive back into the early '90s without any warning. I'm crazy like that.

And just another warning: If you're tired of seeing Jack Johnson in my countdown, just wait. I bought and downloaded the Antigone Rising album from iTunes tonight, and I've got a feeling that those songs will also be popping up here beginning next week!

It's Not a Hair Dryer... It's a Wind Machine!

I tried out my new hair dryer today... or should I call it my wind machine? I had to put my old hair dryer to rest because the rattling noise inside of it really began worrying me that it might.... ummmm... EXPLODE IN MY HAND!

I went to Tar-jay, you know the mecca of all my shopping experiences, and purchased a new one. It was $20. I could go with one of those cute, cheap ones that fold up or store the cord inside the handle, but my hair is pretty thick and past my shoulders and has a fair amount of natural curl. It'd be more efficient to let Danny blow on my hair.

So I get the advanced hair dryers that have the varying temperature settings and the different speeds and the "cool shot" button. But there's also that ion button. WTF is up with that? I have no idea what that thing does... but I leave it on anyway.

This hair dryer, however, has all that PLUS a TURBO BOOST button. I was impressed. With all these cool features, I was looking forward to drying my hair this morning. Kind of like a man with a new power tool.

Then I turned it on. Wow. I wasn't expecting the kickback from the force of wind that exploded from the nozzle. It was blowing my hair around so much that it took me a couple of minutes to situate it so that I could wrangle the brush through my hair at the same time. Then I hit the TURBO BOOST button. I'm surprised I didn't clear off the bathroom vanity with that gust.

I got to thinking about my hair dryer this morning, and I've realized the money-making and money-saving ventures I could make with this thing. First off, there's no need to buy a leaf blower this fall. Then, I could rent this sucker out to NASCAR because it would be a big help in the wind tunnel tests for those stock cars.

I'm sure there are other things I could use if for that would make or save me money, but if anybody can get me in touch with NASCAR about that wind tunnel thing... I'd be most appreciative!

My Top Five Songs of All Time

So I've neglected my "5 Songs I'm Loving... This Week" for the past two weeks, but don't fear; I'm back this week with a double BONUS edition! You'll get my five favorite songs of ALL time - well, at least 33 years - my five LEAST favorite songs of all time PLUS my top five for this week. You're so lucky, and you don't even know it!

Yeah, yeah... I know all nine of you are waiting and about to explode with anticipation, so we'll get started with the top five of all time - in no particular order because again, I just couldn't choose!

1) "Drops of Jupiter," Train - They had me at the first few piano chords.

2) "Crazy," Patsy Cline - That woman could put heartache in a song like no one else.

3) "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," Jane Monheit - I love the song with almost anyone singing it, but her interpretation is simply beautiful. She has one of the purest - if not THE purest - voices I've ever heard.

4) "Your Song," Elton John - Because who wouldn't want to make someone else's life wonderful by just being in their world?

5) "The Island Song," Edwin McCain - I've got every one of his CDs, and while he writes almost every song he puts on his albums, this song, oddly enough, wasn't written by him. But it's still awesome anyway.

My Top Five LEAST Favorite Songs of All Time

1) "Get Ur Freak On," Missy Elliott - I. Don't. Get. Missy. Elliott. Seriously. Not at all. Never.

2) "Redneck Woman," Gretchen Wilson - You know what? Millions of women buy their lingerie at Wal-Mart. What do you want - a medal?

3) "Chop Suey," System of a Down - Really, I don't like any of their songs, This one just makes my least favorite.

4) "Who Let the Dogs Out?" Baha Men - Do I really need to explain myself on this one?

5) "Perfect," Simple Plan - Of all the whiny faux-punk bands out there today - Good Charlotte, Yellowcard, Story of the Year and such - these guys are the worst. To me, the lead singer's voice sounds like fingernails on a chalkboard. I hear it and my shoulders raise up to my earlobes in disgust.

5 Songs I'm Loving... This Week

I posted an iMix on iTunes called "Sappy Chick's Music, Vol. I" with most of the previous songs I've listed. I've decided that I'll post a mix on there with my selections each month. Check it out if you like! And here's this week's top five:

1) "Jealous of the Moon," Nickel Creek - I have their first album, but when I listened to their second album, I didn't find enough songs that I liked to buy it. I've listened to snippets of this third one, and I only bought three songs. I do like this one though. It's lovely and haunting. Staring down the stars, jealous of the moon, you wish you could fly. Staying where you are, there's nothing you can do when you're too scared to try.

2) "Banana Pancakes," Jack Johnson - I listened to snippets from his first CD when it came out, and I didn't think I'd like him. Then I heard this CD when I was sitting in a coffeehouse the other weekend, and I figured I'd give him another try. This song is good for weekend mornings, especially when fixing breakfast, perhaps... banana pancakes? Mmmmm.....

3) "Don't Lie," Black Eyed Peas - Good acoustic guitar lick, and I like her voice.

4) "Ordinary People," John Legend - He's an excellent piano player, and the video for this song is moving as well. I've listened to the other snippets, thought, and I'm thinking this will be the only song I buy off the album.

5) "Return to Me," Chris Isaak - I'm eternally grateful to my friend Donna for informing me about this song. I already liked the Dean Martin version, and I love the movie - it's hilarious and sweet. Then she told me about seeing Chris Isaak in concert and him performing this song. I got chill bumps when she said it. Then I heard it. Wow. Ladies, make sure you're sitting down and not operating heavy machinery when you listen to this one because you'll melt right into the floor. *swoon*

Writing Prompt: Write About a December Memory

I slept on the couch in my parents' living room the night before I got married. I couldn't let Danny see me before our wedding, and he was at our apartment. My best friend and matron of honor, Tiffany, was in the living room with me, sleeping on the love seat. We got up that morning, and before we started getting ready for the bridal brunch, the phone rang. It was Danny, asking if I happened to remember where I last saw our wedding rings. I knew our rings were still in the bag from the place where we bought them and our marriage license was in the bag with the rings, but that was all I knew.

Early in our relationship, we realized that if something needed to be held on to, it was best if Danny took care of it. I always seem to find this black hole to put things in, where they disappear, probably to some parallel universe or to that place where mismatched socks hide. And I swear this "hole" is NOT a trash can.

So the fact that Danny couldn't find something he put away terrified me. He assured me that everything was okay because he still had places to look, but in my mind, the worry seed had been planted. While I enjoyed myself at the bridal brunch, subconsciously I was watering that worry seed, fertilizing it with all the undesirable scenarios that I believed would ruin my wedding day and pulling up the weeds of rational thought that tried to kill my anxiety.

As soon as the brunch guests left, I was on my cell phone calling Danny. He had no good news. He had not found the bag, and his grandparents were on their way over to help him look. Then the worry seed bloomed into a full-blown panic complete with tears. After a half-hour, I decided I could no longer just sit and wait; I headed to the apartment to start looking myself. Our wedding day had already gotten off to a rocky start - how much more harm could be done by him seeing me before the wedding?

I called Danny from my cell phone to tell him that I was coming. His grandparents were there, and later, Danny told me that they had planned to keep me downstairs and him upstairs for tradition's sake.

When I was literally two minutes from the apartment, Danny called. His grandfather had found the bag in the drawer NEXT to the one where Danny was certain he had put it. The crisis was over, and no traditions had been broken. The rest of the day went off without a single glitch - unless you count his father showing up drunk and wearing a corduroy jacket with sleeves that were too long and a tie that came only about halfway down his beer belly. At least he didn't make a scene. Of course, we get a good laugh out of his choice of outfits by doing our best Oliver Hardy impersonation.

Honestly, I don't know how some couples get married early in the day. Ours was at 6 pm, and I swear, if it had been any earlier, I wouldn't have made it, especially considering what happened!

Writing Prompt: Write About a Dangerous Ride

When I was a freshman in high school, I had a crush on N. He was a senior and went to my church. An only child, he had a mild form of palsy that gave him an noticeable limp and a brutal temper which was quick to surface. At the time, I felt drawn to that unpredictable nature. I think part of it was the whole "sick puppy" syndrome. I wondered if I could help him. Shut up, I was 14 and didn't know any better. I watched Days of Our Lives every day for crying out loud. It worked for Patch and Kayla and Bo and Hope!

My brother was starting seventh grade, which made him old enough to start attending youth group functions, and one night we were riding with N back to the church before choir practice. It was winter and already dark outside, and N decided to do his imitation of a road course racer in his big Ford clunker. He was running 70 mph in a 35 mph zone, and my brother and I were screaming for our lives. N swerved to the other side of the road and asked, "What's wrong?" We started yelling even louder as he laughed.

We got back to church in one piece, but my infatuation with N pretty much ended right there. Tortured was one thing, but downright crazy was another. I was right to stop feeling anything for him before anything started - although it wouldn't have gone anywhere anyway. N obsessed over my friend D, who was also the preacher's daughter. A few weeks after the driving episode, our youth group went to the mountains for a retreat with groups from lots of other churches. D spent the weekend hanging out with a guy from another church, sending N into a jealous fit. My brother and one of his friends were N's unfortunate roommates for the weekend and witnessed the rage he unleashed on the last night there. He ranted and raved and through a chair across the room.

No one looked at N the same way after that trip. Everyone was just a little wary of him, and he stayed just as angry about everyone else. One night after a gathering at D's house, N was pissed off once again and went driving around. He took a curve too fast and rolled his car a few times in an open field. Miraculously, he wasn't hurt, but the incident was kind of the cinch that closed the curtain between N and everyone else.

Today, he still lives with his mom, barely works and blames everyone else for his problems. I saw his mother this spring at a greenhouse where I was buying flowers. She asked how my brother was doing. I told her that he was dating someone and that the rest of the family were keeping our fingers crossed that this girl was the one. N's mom started talking about how she told N not worry about marriage, that some people just aren't meant for it. I nodded and went on my way and noted how true that statement was for N.

That ride in his car might have been a dangerous one, but it would have been nothing compared to what could have been. Talk about dodging a bullet!

Just Some Observations...

1 - We live in a subdivision where houses are still being built, and one is now going up across the street from us. I'm not trying to come of as racist or anything, but there are a lot of Hispanics working on that house, and their music is driving me bonkers! How can someone listen to that oompah-oompah sounding music?

2 - I feel guilty about wanting to gush about the beautiful weather we're having when New Orleans is still underwater and half the Gulf Coast is nothing but debris.

3 - While I myself have no desire to play "NASCAR 2006: Total Team Control" (which is a good thing since my husband has been working his way up the ranks since Friday and is now driving in the truck series), I know that there are female race fans out there who might want to play the game, but unfortunately, you can choose a male driver only. This despite the fact that they do have other female racers in the other series in the game. Come, EA Games, get with the program!

4 - The other day I saw a video of this song "Don't Cha" by a new group called The Pussycat Dolls. Let's examine the lyrics here for a moment:

I know you like me (I know you like me)
I know you do (I know you do)
Thats why whenever I come around she's all over you
And I know you want it (I know you want it)
It's easy to see (it's easy to see)
And in the back of your mind
I know you should be home with me

[Chorus]
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me
Don't cha, don't cha
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me
Don't cha, don't cha

I don't want to go any further for those of you who are already tortured enough. Why didn't they just go ahead and ask, "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a whore like me?"

I tell you what I wish: I wish they had some talent so I wouldn't. Hate. This. Song. What about you? Don't cha wish that too?

Writing Prompt: Write About the Silent Treatment

When I was young, it wasn't what was said that hurt me most - it was what wasn't said. Being pudgy all my life, I was used to idiots teasing me. I didn't like it all that much, but I had accustomed myself to the fact that some morons would poke fun about my weight. What I hated more were the incidents when a friend wouldn't talk to me because she was mad at me - and that scenario happened a lot in seventh grade.

I was friends with A and H. A's parents were divorced, and she lived with her mom, with whom she fought a lot. A was prone to moodiness and got pissed off without warning at virtually anything. It was pretty stupid of me to be friends with her, but I was shy and hard enough time trying to make friends. So when someone was nice enough to talk to me, I usually hung out with her. I ended up clinging to A and H. H was a little more well-adjusted and a little like me in that she was shy, so I guess you could call A the ringleader.

If A got pissed off, her silent treatment wrath usually lasted a day, but there was one instance where her punishment went on for more than a month. H and I sat at the back of the room in first period math with A as she told us about that morning's argument with her mother, who had scheduled A some sort of procedure that was apparently embarrassing. A referred to it using a slang term that I can't remember now, and to this day, I have no idea what she was talking about. I do remember finding what she was talking about odd, and I chuckled and asked what the word meant. Within a mere second, her gaze hardened and she called me a stupid bitch for laughing at her and for not knowing what she was talking about. Then she warned me that if I told another soul, she'd kick my ass. And that was it...

...until science class, when another girl came up to me and asked why A and I weren't talking. I tried to blow it off, but the girl wouldn't leave me alone. So I told her and ended the story by asking - perhaps even begging - her not to tell A I said anything. Dumb, moronic, stupid, idiotic - none of these words accurately describe what I did, because the girl walked straight from me to A and asked her what the term meant. All I could do was watch the whole scene play out in front of me while the knot in my stomach grew larger and larger as I feared for my safety.

A glared at me from two tables away and called out that I was in for it at lunch. Somehow, I didn't think that meant she'd be buying me an ice cream. Fortunately, nothing happened, other than her silent treatment, which she conned H into following along with for about a week. I remember those weeks of drifting from clique to clique, trying to find someone else to hang out with, but I always felt like the spare tire that's stuffed in the trunk, hoping that at some point I'd be useful, maybe even wanted. Boy, does being a teenager suck sometimes or what? The silence wasn't broken until May, when several classes went to the park for the day. She and several other girls were smoking a joint in the bathroom when I walked in to pee. Then I became the lookout for any adults.

Apparently, I redeemed myself in her eyes, and she began talking to me a couple of days later after writing a note and apologizing, because back then, you know, we didn't have text messaging and e-mail. Incidentally, I still have the note. Only a couple of weeks of school remained, and I had learned that the school district assignments had changed, sending me to a different middle school for eighth grade. A decided to move up north to live with her father and stepmother. She wrote a couple of times after she moved, including a five-page letter about her first three days at her new school complete with a diagram of the school cafeteria and where the various cliques sat. Apparently, I didn't write back often enough for her because I found a final letter in which she asks whether I still wanted to be her friend. I don't remember whether or not I wrote her back.

But I did hear from her again the summer after I graduated from high school. She was spending the summer with her mom and actually called me. I was apprehensive, as was my poor mom, who was afraid that she was trying to set me up for something. A's motives were purely innocent however, and we ended up going to see Steel Magnolias. I spent the evening determined to make her see that I wasn't the same gullible 13-year-old that she could manipulate. There wasn't any need for me to be defensive, though, because I could tell she had changed as well. She seemed genuinely interested in what my plans were and talked about her thoughts about staying in Greenville and taking classes at the local technical college. I didn't hear from her after that evening, but at least that silence wasn't the cause of either one of us being pissed off.

I Love the '80s... Haiku Version

One of my regular reads, Sarcomical, has a Half-Week Haiku usually every Wednesday. This week's topic was those fashion faux pas that happened during our teenage years, which for many of those who commented sounded as if they happened during the '80s. I know mine did anyway. I was on a roll and put three up in my comment, and I thought I'd also share them here with you:

Big bow in my hair
and fluourescent lime-green shirt -
but I was thirteen!

OR

Aching for blond hair,
I tried Sun-In solution -
my hair turned orange.

OR

Teased curls, thick makeup,
rubber bracelets up my arm -
just like Madonna!

And by the Way...

I met with a surgeon yesterday, and he does believe the problem is my gall bladder. My surgery has been scheduled for Tuesday, September 20th. I can hardly wait. What a way to use up virtually the rest of my vacation days.

Quotes About Writing for September

Well, I'm now into my fifth month of blogging, and I'm still loving it. I love having an outlet for my writing. I love having people across the country and even overseas read what I'm writing. I love that there are seven other bloggers that enjoy my stuff enough to add me to their blogroll (not including a couple of family members and friends). So I don't have any plans to end this anytime soon!

And now that another month has come along, so I give you this month's quotes about writing:

"Writing accurate details doesn't mean your writing has to be factual, but the specificity of detail is what brings your writing to life." - Judy Reeves.

"Some people don't really bother much with remembering; it seems such a useless activity. But most writers are addicted to it." - Alice Munro

"When you walk into a room and you get a certain feeling or emotion, remember back until you see exactly what it was that gave you the emotion. Remember what the noises and smells were and what was said. Then write it down, making it clear so the reader will see it too, and have the same feeling you had." - Ernest Hemingway

"To write simply is as difficult as to be good." - W. Somerset Maugham

"The unconscious creates, the ego edits." - Stanley Kunitz

"Music has often created the wellspring out of which my imaginative efforts have sprung." - William Stryon

"As a writer, when you're with your own kind your writing is taken seriously, there is respect for the work that goes unspoken; no need for explaining or proving yourself." - Judy Reeves

"The impulse for much writing is homesickness. You are trying to get back home, and in your writing you are invoking that home, so you are assuaging the homesickness." - Joan Didion

"Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness." - Allen Ginsberg

"You have to be immensely daring, very skilled and imaginative, and willing to tell everything on yourself." - Raymond Carver

"Don't be afraid of giving yourself away for if you write you must. And if you can't face that, better not write." - Katherine Anne Porter