Brush Brush Here, Brush Brush There....

That squeezy sound you heard was me shoe-horning a moment into my busy work week to finally affix an award onto my electronic wall, courtesy of Lisa Gibson at Random Thoughts to String Together. (Thanks, Lisa!)

Like many of these awards, it comes with no financial prize, no guarantee of a bump in readership, and, despite my repeated requests, no suspension of the rules of space and time. Given the state of the economy, the need to show advertisers how you are growing your readership, and the coolness aspect of suspending time, you may wonder why any self-respecting writer would accept such accolades. Of course, we writers already know the answer to that: We have no self respect. If we did, we'd never share the painful pieces of our personality with readers who may end up on our doorstep and scream, "Finally, someone understands me!"

Just kidding, of course. (And no, I have no advertisers that I communicate with for this blog. Even I don't completely care about growing my readership via ads just yet.)

I'm posting this because I like what Lisa does on her blog and because I like helping other writers.

But wait, there's more!

The award also comes with a few tasks. I don't think I'll fall into a deep abyss should I fail to accomplish one or two of these tasks, but I'll list them for one and all anyway.

I'm required to:
1) Thank and link back to the person who gave you this award. (Check!)

2) Share 7 things about yourself.

3) Pass the award along to 15 bloggers who you have recently discovered and who you think are fantastic for whatever reason! (In no particular order...)

4) Contact the bloggers you've picked and let them know about the award.

So, let me try this. Hmmmmmm, seven things about. Well, I'm a Pisces and like long walks in the dark..... Nah, that's not helpful.

2.1) I trace my love of writing to falling in love with music and lyrics; I made up songs while walking to and from kindergarten
2.2) I have loved elephants since childhood.
2.3) I'm a registered Democrat, despite my love of elephants
2.4) I learned to read in the summer between pre-school and kindergarten, when I couldn't get my family to read The Elephant's Child by Rudyard Kipling often enough.
2.5) I've played baseball at least as long as I've made up songs and stories
2.6) I created a wiffleball team to compete with my brother, who loved turtles. My team: The New York Elephants.
2.7) If I'd realized my dream of becoming a major league baseball player, I still would have become a writer. I know this as certainly as I know that Heaven has baseball fields.

As for numbers 3 and 4, I'm going to have to get back to that. Lisa and I know several of the same bloggers, so that might seem like overkill. Then there's the chain-letter aspect of this request. Of course, Lisa didn't say anything about cute kittens or puppies dying or babies going without diaper rash ointment should I fail in my appointed quest, so I suspect I'll be ok. But then those faithful readers who stop by might not learn about other writers, as I'm learning from Lisa's list.

I'm pretty sure I can add three or four to the list and will do so soon. I promise.

Once again, thanks Lisa, and thanks to everyone else for reading this far.

The Elephant That Changed My Life

I'm reading a collection of short essays by published authors: The Book That Changed My Life, edited by Roxanne J. Coady and Joy Johannessen. I like the concept. It makes me wonder what books have influenced my life. There are many books I've enjoyed, of course. But the one that comes most prominently to mind is called The Elephant's Child, by Rudyard Kipling. Through this book I learned to read. Of course, my parents read it to me. Back in those long-ago days of my pre-school childhood, we had a summer home and this library book stayed with me for most of those warm, idyllic months; I suspect my father had to pay a dollar or two in late fees.

As you might imagine given the name of this blog, elephants are special to me. And this tale of how the elephant's child got his nose stretched out by a crocodile in "the great-green greasy Limpopo River" to become a trunk represents a turning point (albeit an early one) in my intellectual life. It was all due to the elphant's "insatiable curiosity." Such language for a precocious child! I can still hear my father's and my mother's and my brothers' voices as they read it to me. But most important was I needed to read it, because my family wasn't beside me at all hours of the day, and that's when I wanted to read it. Like the crocodile, this book pulled at my brain, stretching it and distorting it until I could hear words differently than I had before, speak them properly, and languish in the language of love and adventure.

Years later, when I was married and my body and mind had been stretched in other, less appealing ways, I received a CD of this book -- narrated by Jack Nicholson with aural accompaniment by Bobby McFerrin. Perfect! How lovingly and mischievously he spoke the words "insatiable curiosity"; he knew such sensations all too well.

This book has helped to form me. If you don't know it already, go to your library and get yourself stretched.