The Infrequent Flyer

I’m writing to you from the Missoula, Montana airport (note the cool mosaic), where I am very very very happy to be and I’m very very happy to be here with all my various bags and devices. Why so happy, you ask?

Because apparently I’m one of those people who shouldn’t fly by herself.

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More on Computer Games…

To add to my angst about all the time my kids are spending in front of the screen, I just read this report on how “Video games lead to faster decisions that are no less accurate.”*

Researchers at the University of Rochester tested students ages 18 to 25 who didn’t usually play video games. Half of them were required to play 50 hours of the high-action games “Call of Duty 2” and “Unreal Tournament”; the other half played the slow-moving game “The Sims 2”. Afterward, they tested students’ ability to make quick decisions—and found that the action game players were up to 25 percent faster and just as accurate as those who played the slower-paced game. Researcher Daphne Bavelier says, “It's not the case that the action game players are trigger-happy and less accurate…[they] make more correct decisions per unit time. If you are a surgeon or you are in the middle of a battlefield, that can make all the difference.”

Do me a favor: don’t tell my kids about this, okay?

:) Cheryl

*This research will be published in the journal Current Biology in a paper authored by Daphne Bavelier, Alexandre Pouget, and C. Shawn Green.

Computer Games: Friend or Foe?

This has been a challenging school year for me thus far, for a weird reason: World of Warcraft. Not that I’m playing. My kids are playing. They both have accounts—that they pay for—and they are both spending hours and hours every week online, slaying monsters, completing quests, laughing, and having fun.

As a children’s writer and someone who’s chosen not to have a TV in the house for the past 20+ years, this disturbs me greatly.

How does such a thing happen, you ask? The problem is…not really a problem. That is, the kids have been given permission to play computer games without regulation as long as they’re getting chores done, logging half an hour of exercise a day, staying current on homework, and getting good grades. And the problem is that they’re doing it. And they’re seeing friends, playing Magic the Gathering at lunch, and participating in various clubs and after-school activities, so I don’t have an excuse to kick them off their machines.

Yes, this decision to let them have unlimited computer time is a slight point of contention in our household, but I can’t argue with the results. When I ask them to get off and help set the table, they do so with (usually) good grace. When they miss chores, they lose computer privileges the next day with few complaints. And the chores get done. Where we used to have arguing and conflict, now we have clear expectations, no reminders, no nagging, and simple consequences. And both kids are happy.

So what’s the problem? My kids are spending five million freaking hours on the computer every day!!!!

Not that I’d exaggerate. Much. I just keep telling myself that this is a good problem to have….

:) Cheryl

Gusts, fire danger, beauty, and joy

It’s Thursday night, 10:00 PM, as I write this, and it’s the kind of beautiful, blustery night that makes me want to stand face to the wind, arms outstretched, and let it blow through me. It’s the kind of night that’s fierce and wild and wonderful, gusting cool air through the halls and blowing papers free of the refrigerator and bulletin boards.

Earlier today, the Four Mile Canyon fire had been reported 30% contained and some of the homes reopened to their owners—but threats of incoming windy weather (this weather that’s currently rattling trees outside my window) prompted officials to reinstate the evacuation order. Firefighters entered the night worried that the gusting wind and dry air might fan the fire into a monster again and carry it past their line.

Late this afternoon, the city issued an announcement that people living on the west side of town should prepare for possible evacuation. Friends living on the mountain’s borders, even those who know it’s incredibly unlikely the fire would reach them, are gathering photos and keepsakes. Just in case. And when we drove back into town after an evening north of town, the smell of smoke once again filled the car.

These were the thoughts in my head as I pulled into my driveway tonight: that the fire might spread; that it’s touching so many people; that the night was this weird mix of beauty and power and fear. And in the midst of this, loud music comes from the bike path behind the house, where a stream of bicycles are passing with music and wheels decorated with Christmas lights and laughter—Boulder’s Thursday night bike ride. The kids come running to shout “Happy Thursday!” to them, because that’s what we do on Thursday when the ride passes our house, and the bikers all yell “Happy Thursday!” back to us, one after another, as they pass in a parade of color and light.

“They make me happy,” my 11-year-old said. “I don’t know why, but they make me happy.”

And I guess that’s what keeps hitting me in the midst of this: tragedy brings out stories of heroism and compassion and a community coming together. Qwest, our local phone company with a reputation for poor service, sets up a generator-powered phone relay so that the mountain schools will have phone service as they reopen. A local woman buys piles of socks because she hears that one of the relief centers is in short supply. Others open their homes to evacuees and to their pets; or simply offer their garages to people looking for a place to store things until the fire danger passes. The Thursday bikers spread good cheer and grins.

Maybe it doesn’t put out the fire, but it helps.

:) Cheryl

PS: If you’re interested in helping those who have lost their homes, a donation site opened tonight in Boulder to collect gently used children’s clothing, size large adult clothing, personal hygiene items (unused), diapers and school supplies.

For those of you who live farther afield, Boulder’s Daily Camera has compiled a list of resources for how to help.

When the fire's too close to home...

We returned from camping this weekend--and several days out of touch with the rest of the world--to see a plume of smoke rising from the direction of home.


By the time we reached Boulder, the sky was clouded with smoke, the sidewalk peppered with ash. The smoke came from Four Mile Canyon, where a fire started Monday morning and proceeded to grow into the 6000+ acre wildfire fire fighters are still battling three days later. More than 3000 families have been evacuated from the mountains west of town.

I feel this disaster more than you might expect, given that it's not threatening my home or family. Every member of my family, though, knows people who have been evacuated: friends, teachers, other kids on the bus, other families from orchestra, fellow writers. It feels as if threads of connection run every direction, tying us to the families who have been uprooted.

I think it also hits hard because Four Mile Canyon is such a special place for me. We lived in a little cabin half a mile up the canyon for seven years and it felt like home in a way that our current "town" house never will. I wrote the book that brought me back to writing seated at a desk overlooking an immense lilac; I dreamed plot twists lying in a patch of sun on my bed, with the stream gurgling only ten feet from my window; I found inspiration in long hikes up the mountain behind the house. I still dream of this place and still hope, one day, to return. I still think of it as “my house” even though we haven’t lived there for more than eight years.

Today, some of the families are allowed to return home, although they've been warned they might have to leave again at any moment. Others' homes remain in areas considered too volatile for non-fire fighters to enter. Meanwhile, in town we can hear the steady drone of slurry bombers shuttling back and forth with their fire-fighting cargo. It makes me wonder if this is something like what people felt during war times, hyper-alert for the noise of aircraft overhead and hyper-aware of what each different sound might mean.

Our thoughts and prayers are with those fighting the fire and those whose homes are threatened and lives in disarray.

~Cheryl

I can’t remember…

  …the last time life crept up upon me and dealt me such a round of busy-ness. I expect the usual summer slide of time, when there are kids home and vacations and travel and other such time-consuming activities; but the last few weeks have brought such a slew of work and errands and writing and so on, that I’ve started to lose track of what day it is. Seriously.

I saw the light at the end of the tunnel today, not because I reached the end of my to-do list (I didn’t) and not because I reached the bottom of my in box (not even close)—but today, I finally took the time to water my poor pots of flowers, which had been threatening to die completely in the end-of-summer heat. It might sound silly, but when I’m this busy even the two minutes required to water four flower pots becomes…overwhelming. Maybe it’s not really an unmanageable task, but there’s always some other task more urgent until I reach the dropping point.

Yes, I can be a bit all-or-nothing. I’m working on it.

The bad part about being so busy is that without some down time, I start to lose touch with my creativity. I don’t come up with blog ideas; my book rewrite seems hopeless and overwhelming; and I wonder why the heck I ever thought I could be a writer.

But today I saw the light. Even took a few minutes to show my face in the blog-o-sphere ((WAVES WILDLY)) whilst sitting on my front porch beside the afore-mentioned flower pots. They’re a little scant in the flower department, but hey, with a little water, they’ll be better in no time.

Kinda like me!

So—here’s hoping that all of you are finding time to write and time to recharge and time just to be, because sometimes that what the Muse requires before she doles out inspiration and delight. Being busy has its place, but in my life, at least, it’s time to slow down a bit!

:) Cheryl

The mourning doves have fledged!

These are the two baby mourning doves in our apple tree—a successful nesting this year! (Last year, the mother and chicks disappeared while the chicks were still very young, leaving behind only an ominous scattering of feathers….)

They flew off later this same day.

:) Cheryl

How I write blog posts

Blogging inspiration seems to be feast or famine for me. It seeks like if I sit down thinking “I have to write something to post today,” my blogging brain remains empty. If, however, it’s past midnight, I have to get up early the next day, and I’m supposed to be sleeping, suddenly I have five million ideas that MUST BE WRITTEN DOWN RIGHT AWAY OR THEY WILLO BE LOST FOREVER!

Just thought I’d share.

:) Cheryl

PS: Anyone else out there love Spring? I guess nature supports the feast/famine ideology, because right now I’m reveling in a feast of flowers. It’s heavenly….

Wolf Whistle Update

When I was about seven, everyone in the world knew how to whistle besides me. Seriously. My whole first grade class, my friends, never mind my father who could summon us kids from the farthest corners of ur100-acre farm with his piercing “whee-oo-wheet!” (That’s tech-speak for his distinctive whistle.)

Whistling was the bane of my existence. I puckered and practiced every day for absolutely EVER.

And when, finally and miraculously, I learned to whistle, I continued to practice every spare moment—and since I had to walk half a mile to the bus stop, I had plenty of time to perfect my pucker. I learned to whistle every song in every musical I knew. I whistled piano concertos (hard, because it’s difficult to choose a single note melody line) and flute pieces (better, because the flute plays only a single note at a time, but the range can be tricky), and all my choir pieces.

I became a really, really good whistle. Not that there’s a lot of call for expert whistlers (ooh—wouldn’t that make an excellent character quirk?) although I was psyched when I learned that someone whistled part of a Billy Joel piece.

But I digress.

The point it: I got really, really good and, miraculously, everyone else in my life forgot how to whistle. Suddenly, I was the only one I knew who whistled. I was a surprise to the hordes of non-whistlers. An anomaly.

You might think there’s a lesson coming about perceptions versus reality, or how kids can be self-conscious or some thing. There’s not.

I just wanted to point out that, now that I’m adult, the scenario is repeating itself with respect to the wolf whistle (you know, two fingers in the mouth, piercing, turns heads.) Although I’m working on it, I’m still unable to accomplish this whistle while apparently everyone around me can. Amazing, isn’t it?

Go figure. :) Cheryl

Just had to share…

 

For the full story, visit: http://www.salon.com/life/youtube/index.html?story=/mwt/broadsheet/

And now, for something completely different!

Phew. It seems like I’ve been writing a lot of loooong posts lately! I’ve pulled together some good info, I hope—but I feel like it’s time for some lighter fare.

Such as:

• Weird and cool science news (which I’ve been reading a lot of lately)
• Awesome books to read (which I’ve also been reading a lot of—an extremely pleasant occupational hazard)
• How to wolf whistle.

I mean, informational blog posts are great and all, but that can’t be all we read, right?

Confession: I don’t actually know how to wolf whistle, but it seems like such a valuable skill that I just had to mention it. You may be wondering: is there, in fact, an eHow article on Wolf whistling technique?

Yes! There is! There’s also a wikiHow article as well as a number of How-To videos like this one. (I love living in the computer age….)

Challenge for the week: now that I’ve uncovered these amazing resources, can you learn to wolf whistle? Can I? Can I do so without convincing my friends and family that I’m nuts?

I’ll update you next week…

:) Cheryl

An Unanticipated Break…

Many of my fellow writers take a break from blogging when, say, it’s Spring Break and their children will be home from school. Now I know why! I’ve missed you, oh fellow Blog-o-sphere inhabitants!

A quick summary of events since I last posted:

1. A March blizzard rated a snow day for the local school district. Of course, since it was Spring Break, the kids were out of school anyway….
2. Multiple sunny, 70 degree days coaxed tulips out of hiding.
3. My agent, Gary Heidt, started submitting my latest book, a YA paranormal (Yay!!!).
4. I took my first ride on a road bike since I tried to learn to ride on my father’s bicycle at age ten.
5. My Google Reader crept up to 1000+ unread posts (ack!)
6. I discovered that The Container Store opened a store within driving distance :)

I’m back now, though, ready to continue the series on The Happy Writer, which you can find in the following posts:

• The Happy Writer (introduction)
• Challenge #1: Depression
• Depression Prevention
• Challenge #2: Isolation
• Ganging up on Isolation

It’s good to be back :).

Cheryl

Barefoot?

A year ago, my sister showed me her new shoes—shoes her husband fondly calls her “Gorilla Shoes.” (They’re actually called Vibrams.)

They looked…weird.

And yet, a year later, I keep hearing about these things. I meet random people at the coffee shop who rave about them, I had a bicyclist show me how he’d worn holes through the bottoms—and my sister still seems to love hers. Even though I still think they look weird.

But I’m starting to get convinced about these weird-looking footgear, in part because of articles like this one, which reports that running in running shoes causes greater stress to joints than running barefoot or walking in high-heeled shoes.

I’ve spent the past six months working my way VERY slowly up to being able to run a reasonable time and distance. I’ve learned to love my runs. They’re the perfect time for me to ponder story problems; plus, they fulfill my desire to multitask because I’m fitting in exercise and getting the dogs outside at the same time. I find that running is starting to give me all those much-touted benefits that “real” runners claim: I have more energy, improved mood, and improved productivity.

But—I can tell it’s hard on my joints. I have to space out my runs to let my knees recover in between, and I worry about joint issues forcing me to stop again, which would be a major bummer. Maybe going “barefoot,” in weird-looking shoes, is the solution!

:) Cheryl

Anyone else have this problem?

This is my first real day back to work since before Christmas. Not that I didn’t work over break—I had a few deadlines and projects that couldn’t just go on hold—but with a house full of kids and relatives, food to cook, people to see, presents to buy, presents to wrap, Avatar to see…well, there wasn’t a lot of time leftover for writing.

And if you know me at all, that’s saying something! I tend to write in the midst of everything.

So…I’m starting off the New Year with an impossibly long to-do list. And I’m having trouble engaging with it. In fact, I’ve discovered that it is MUCH more fun to look up new organizing software and make new lists than it is to actually *do* any of the things on my various lists.

Anyone else have this problem? Anyone else with an iPhone who has this problem? Because there are WAY too many cool-looking apps that promise to organize your time, money, projects, to-do lists, sock drawer, and more, and you could theoretically spend hours reading through them all.

Just sayin’.

:-) Cheryl

PS: No, the picture doesn’t really have anything to do with the post. But I really, really like it. Doesn’t she look happy? Plus there are sunflowers. Everything’s better with sunflowers. Happy New Year!

Cool Science

We’ve all heard stories of dolphins rescuing people from shipwrecks or shark attacks—but humans aren’t the only one to benefit from dolphins’ altruistic nature. In March, 2008, a dolphin named Moko helped save the lives of a pygmy sperm whale mother and calf when they stranded on a New Zealand beach.

Humans tried repeatedly to refloat the mother and calf, but the pair kept re-stranding themselves on a large sandbar just offshore. With each try, the whales became more agitated and more disoriented. Would-be rescuers feared that they wouldn’t be able to find their way past the sand bar to the open sea.

Enter the dolphin: Moko shoved her way between humans and whales to guide the whales to safety.

All the coolest tales are true, don’t you think?

:) Cheryl

*Thanks to CW Ye at Flickr Commons for the dolphin photo!

Confessions of a word geek

  Know what makes me happy? Finding the right word to search for in order to find my place in a document….you know, trying to think of a word that you don’t use until that scene where the T-rex explodes out his egg in the middle of the district basketball championship.

And this picture. This picture makes me very happy.

Theoretically, that is.

:) Cheryl

Too Fat to Be a Princess—Worries for the Modern Preschooler

We all know the American obsession with skinny people and body image—but I didn’t know until I read this report how pervasive worries about appearance has become. According to a recent study at the University of Central Florida, about half of 3-6 year old girls say they worry about being too fat.

This makes me sad.

On the flip side, these girls don’t appear to react negatively to videos showing your stereotypical thin, gorgeous princess figure. This differs from the responses of older girls and women, who tend to feel worse about themselves after viewing videos of thin, lovely models. I’m thinking this is a plus, although I can’t quite put my finger on why. Maybe it’s that these girls don’t compare their bodies to animated princesses?

When I write for middle schoolers and young adults, I think about tackling issues of body image, healthy living, and eating disorders—but I don’t usually think about those things when writing a story for 3-6 year-olds. I wonder if there’s a need.

Recent conversation re. glasses

Me: Guess what? I’m getting glasses!

10-year-old F: (horrified gasp) You’re kidding!

Me: No, I need glasses.

F: Don’t do it! It will make you look weird.

Me: You know, I’ve been wearing glasses more years of my life than not.

F: But not during the years that I’ve known you.

Me: Don’t worry. I won’t wear them all the time.

F: Ahhhh! (breaks into nearly-realistic sobs of anguish)

I, on the other hand, am ridiculously happy about the glasses. This is the first time in my life when I can pick out any frames I want; when I used to wear them, asymmetrical frames meant Coke-bottle lenses that had to be ground down at the edges so the arms would close. I kid you not.

I haven’t worn glasses or contacts or anything for the past seven or so years, which was nice, but my eyes aren’t bad enough now for me to have to wear them all the time. Meanwhile, it’s like a do-over: I get to pick out cute frames and wear them or not as I please. My inner kid is very, very pleased.

:) Cheryl

Things every writer needs to know

…or, at least, every writer whose story takes place in the San Juan Islands.

1. Cell phone coverage is spotty throughout most of the islands.
2. Sea otters are up and about during the day, when they spend 11-48% of their time grooming. They like to sleep at sea, floating on their backs, often anchored in strands of kelp.
3. Harbor seals do not migrate.
4. Harbor seals’ hearing and vision are best underwater. Their vision is black and white and is apparently not essential for survival, since several blind harbor seals have been found living happy and productive lives, with 3.5 children, houses in the suburbs, and 2 car garages.
5. And harbor seals do NOT touch one another when hauled out onto land.
6. There are only about ten orcas in the world that intentionally strand themselves on the beach in order to catch their prey—and you can watch video of a strand feeding here.
7. In June, the sun rises at about 5:10 AM Pacific Daylight time.

I love being a writer….

:) Cheryl

Friday’s Funky Fact

Your nose might look like a single entity, but when it comes to smelling, the two nostrils seem to operate independently. Denise Chen of Rice University pumped two different odors into a volunteer’s nose. One nostril got a whiff of roses; the other, felt-tipped marker.

The result wasn’t what you might expect. The subject didn’t smell a blend of the two odors. Instead, the smell flip-flipped between the two: they’d smell rose, then marker, and so on.

Seems as if the nostrils have to take turns sending their signals to the brain. Who knew?

I learned this funky fact by listening to the AAAS Science Update podcast, September 24, 2009. Hope you think it’s as cool as I do!

:) Cheryl