Pearls My Mother Wore

Yesterday morning I was getting a little ahead of myself with pre-event jitters; I’ll be the 7 P.M. guest speaker tomorrow at Book Passage in Corte Madera; “The Bay Area’s Liveliest Bookstore!”  Doubt began to have its way with me after I checked-in with an on-line invitation I had sent out to almost 180 people.  99 hadn’t responded, 50 had responded “No,” and there were 10 that said  “Maybe.”  Those numbers don’t tell the whole story, so, before my thinking got out of hand, I gave myself a good talkin’ to.

First, I took a closer look at why I was feeling so vulnerable.  I ticked down a familiar list of likely foes.

Greed. Greed tells me that I have to sell lots of books.  The more sales I make the better person I am.  Wait, that’s not right.

Sloth. Have I done enough to prepare?  This niggling foe will run me ragged.  First, I’ll go into manic, mission-impossible mode trying to do too much in too little time.  Afterward, it’s crash and burn, and I don’t want to talk to anyone or do anything.  Sloth is sneaky.

Envy. Hum, getting close.  I envy famous authors of the world, both living and dead.  I desire their heights of achievement.  I’m not so envious as to wish they didn’t have their glory, but I yearn for that perceived end.  Envy is so much a case of judging my insides against another person’s outsides, and it’s a massive waste of energy.

Pride. Pride, of course it’s pride; it’s always pride with me.  I’m so prideful that failure, of any degree, feels like death.  I just want to shrivel up and die.  In pride, I become a slave to my reputation and a pathological need to be liked.  The anecdote?  Humility.

Tomorrow, I want to remember that it’s okay to simply tell my story.  I know the material; it’s not like I’m gonna be winging it.  Ever since it appeared as though this story would go public, I had a very real sense that if these characters could jump off the pages and promote themselves, they would.  It is my humble role to speak on their behalf, and I can do that.

Once I saw those scary parts for the illusions that they are, I gave each of them permission slips to leave me alone.  With that somewhat out of the way, I was able to concentrate on the good stuff.  I went back to the on-line invitation, the E-vite, and began reading the comments that accompanied the replies.  They were filled loving support and lots of exclamation marks:  “I’m so sorry I will not be able to make it to your reading. We have dinner plans. Wow! Book Passage is huge! Congrats and please let me know when you will be having another reading I really want to see you. I’m so happy for you. Hugs!” – “it is with great joy that i congratulate you, and with great regret that i must say no, i will not be attending what is sure to be a moving and stellar event. Brilliant and continued success to you, and lots of love. xoD” – “Congratulations !!!!!! This is just marvelous and I have a copy of your book, of course….”

Over and over, the regrets were sincere and the encouragement overwhelming.  That’s what I need to remember.  I need to remember the celebratory atmosphere surrounding Pearls My Mother Wore.  I need to remember that my effort is appreciated.  I need to remember that this novel has brought a new level of companionship and conversation into my life.  I need to remember that this novel has been a generous gift that I get to share.

It’s all good.  I’ll post again next Friday.  Until then, have a great week, and as always, comments are welcomed and appreciated.

I’ve gotten the green light from the owner of our local bookstore, Readers’ Books,  to initiate a writer’s group.  I’m excited about what it might generate in terms of new friends and writing production.  I’m beginning to wonder when I’ll ever get back into the fiction writing groove.  This writers’ support group could get me on my way.  I created a flier to let people know what I had in mind, and in the e-mail I made it clear that the group was not going to be a class, there would be no instruction nor advise.  It’s a support group.  I said how I find I write more when I know somebody is going to hear it.  I said, “Whether you are currently writing or simply curious about what might happen if you tried, this group is for you.  I’m calling the group WORDer, because similar to bird lovers who seek, discover, and enjoy birds (birders) I hope similar wonder and discovery over words will infuse the group.”  So far three people have signed up.  This is what the flier had on it:

WORDer – Writing as Discovery

Find the story in you by participating in this

six-week writing commitment.

Group size limit: Ten

Cost: $50

Time: Every Monday for six weeks from 4 P.M. to 6 P.M.

Start: September 13^th 2010

End: October 18^th 2010

Where: The patio at Readers’ Books

Format: Greetings

Ten minute writing exercise

Read from works-in-progress

Receiving feedback is optional

All Feedback Is To Be Positive Only

What you liked.

What stood out.

What you remember.

What you’ll need: Writings, writing tools, and personal comfort items (pillow, slippers, warm coat, etc.).

What’s provided: Cold water, hot tea, small snack, patio heater, and a supportive group.

Registration Contact:

Terry Sue Harms

(Author of Pearls My Mother Wore)

terrysh@sonic.net

Another current bit of book excitement came yesterday when I found myself in our local Sonoma newspaper, The Sonoma Sun.  If anyone is visiting this blog for the first time as a result of the article, welcome!  The article announced my up and coming event at Book Passage.  It included a 4″ x 3 1/2″ picture of me, and this is what it said:

“Five years ago, in reaction to the last-man-standing/reality TV craze, Terry Sue Harms made a casual statement to one of her hairdressing clients that she would like to see something “where the losers were the winners.”  Little did she know that the creative muse must have been listening, because, on the heals of that thought, the storyline for Pearls My Mother Wore was born into her imagination and wouldn’t let her go.
The story is about a young woman whose husband dies without warning, and just as suddenly and unexpectedly, her wayward, bad boy nephew shows up looking for yet another helping hand.  Although complications arise, eventually they help heal each other. “Ultimately this is a story about loss and recovery, resentment and forgiveness,” says Harms.
Harms speaks at length about waking up in the middle of the night with the complete story line springing from her mind.  After attending a writer’s workshop at Book Passage, she decided to take the leap and begin writing.
Harms will be sharing the book at her biggest author event to date – at Corte Madera’s Book Passage on Saturday, Aug. 21 at 7 p.m.  She’s already done a reading here in Sonoma at Reader’s Books where she said the audience was as warm and supportive of her as it was of her literary journey.  The book is available at Reader’s as well as at Sonoma Bookends. More about the novel and Harms can be found at  pearlsmymotherwore.com.
“As a full time hairdresser, this book has been a journey that my clients have gone on with me,” said Harms.  “Sonoma is magical in its enthusiasm for the arts.  There is an exciting, supportive energy here and getting to read my book at Book Passage is the icing on the cake.””

The whole thing has been icing on the cake.  Again and again I find myself filled with gratitude for the support and encouragement I have received.

I’ll catch you up on the next-latest next Friday.  Until then, have a great week, and thank you in advance for any comments you may feel like posting.  They’re all welcomed and enjoyed.  Any Green Lights going on in your world?

Saturday:  Lutrell’s birthday gift to me was a weekend in San Francisco where I wouldn’t have to cook for two whole days.  We were at the Embarcadero Hyatt, and there wasn’t a kitchen in sight, hallelujah!  Our stay started with the most delicious grilled, blue cheese burgers and garlic fries from Gott’s Roadside (used to be Taylor’s Automatic Refresher) at the Ferry Building.  We spent the day walking up to Union Square and doing some shopping.  That night we had tickets to see Peter Pan.  It was performed in a gigantic tent, and when Peter, Tinkerbell, Wendy, and her brothers took off in flight, the canvas ceiling functioned as a movie screen, and the kids soared across landscape in IMAX cinema style.  The effect was so powerful and uplifting that tears came to my eyes.  At the end of the day, my pedometer said we had walked about six miles that day.

Sunday:  Breakfast on the waterfront at The Plant – organic café and restaurant, tasty without being too earthy.  We had another full day of walking, this time up to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art to see The Fisher Collection (bequeathed by billionaire founder of The Gap clothing stores, Donald Fisher and his wife Doris.)  Over a forty-year period of time, the Fishers amassed a collection of modern art that totaled well over a thousand pieces.  After a couple of hours of walking around the museum, I was a zombie.  Much of the art was big, bold, and very intense.  I want to say I loved it, but…not so much.  Nevertheless, I respect its cultural significance.  The last meal we had on Sunday evening was at an award-winning restaurant named Boulevard.  I can’t even explain the culinary wizardry that made Lutrell’s fillet mignon and my lamb out of this world, moist, seared to perfection, full of flavor.  But it was the frangipane, cream and berry dessert that stole the show.  Frangipane, in case you don’t know, as I didn’t, is a short, chewy, buttery cake with a hint of almond flavor.  If the textures and flavors of this creation could sing, it would sound like Billy Holiday, rich and smooth with a little fruity zing.  Although our hotel room was reserved through to Monday, we came home after the Boulevard dinner.  I loved my time down there, but I had reached my sensory limit, and all I wanted then was my nice, quiet home in Sonoma.

Monday:  The Left Coast Writers group met at Book Passage in Corte Madera.  The guest speaker this month was Michael Krasny.  I’m surprised when people don’t know who he is, but I’ve mentioned his name to a couple of people, and they weren’t sure.  He hosts an NPR/KQED radio program called Forum and is genius at drawing out the best in the people he interviews.  He told us that the bulk of his day is spent reading, and it shows.  He seems to generate conversation on any subject effortlessly.  His ability to retain facts and details and then spin those tidbits into entertaining stories is beyond enviable.  He’s truly in a league of his own, thoroughly knowledgeable, scrupulously balanced, funny, warm and engaging.  I sent him a Facebook friend request with a personalized message, and he accepted!

Wednesday:  My writing pal, Julia Allenby had a party to celebrate the release of her debut novel, Taste Everything.  It’s about a widowed business executive who turns to culinary school to help cope with her grief.  Her joy in the kitchen however is tempered by her father’s advancing dementia.  Julia’s party was packed with friends, one of whom I had a lengthy conversation.  Julia is managing a high-rise building in Jack London Square that will soon become Oakland’s culinary center.  The place will be filled with independent stalls for fine food purveyors: cheese, meats, pasta, produce, pastry and baked bread, fish, flowers, sweets, and wine, you name it, it should be there.  My lengthy conversation was with a woman named Lynne Devereux; she’s a cheese expert.  Google: www.buttercommications.com.  I told her about my memorable introduction to artesian cheeses several years ago when I attended an evening at our local cooking school, Ramekins.  Tasting the cheeses was coupled with a slide show of the small farms around the globe where it had come from: Greece, Italy, Spain, Portugal, France, and even Northern California.  Lynne travels all around the country educating folks about the joys of small farm cheeses.  When I asked her about the people she encounters who have less adventurous palettes, the Jack and Cheddar group, she replied that it gave her “job security.”  Isn’t that great?  It’s job security because she is actually encountering people who are willing to learn, change, and expand their stinky-cheese horizons.

It’s been a full and wonderful week.  I’ll post again next Friday.  Got any cheese stories?  Click the blue “Comment” link to share them.

Today I’ll be having lunch with a friend I’ve known since the fourth grade, and that would have been something like 41 years ago.  Amy has come back into my life via Facebook.  I’d been so unsure about FB when I signed up, but it’s far exceeded my stingy expectations.  I don’t think I was alone when I imagined FB to be some gossipy, sophomoric clique that I, once again, would be shunned by.  But, alas, I was wrong.

I’m happy to report that I now have 102 FB friends, and 28 of them wished me a happy birthday this week.  I’ve never received so many birthday wishes in my life.  Time and distance spent apart are of little consequence in the FB world.  I’ve picked up with folks right where we left off, only now, they have a ton of great stories to catch me up on.  Take for example, Janice.  She found me last week on FB.  She’s a 10^th grade, World History teacher in rural, Willits, CA.  Last time I saw her, we were hairdressers in the same salon.  She was into heavy metal music and I was into punk rock.  Her FB portrait has her standing high atop Machu Piccu, Peru!  Wow, I never would have predicted that!  She thinks she’ll be able to come to my next book signing on Aug. 21 at Book Passage.

My FB friend with the largest number of FB “friends” is Linda Watanabe McFerrin.  Notice that I sometimes use quotation marks around the word “friend.”  That is to distinguish between real acquaintances and cyber acquaintances who I may know of but don’t actually know.  Linda is a real-life friend who is on FB.  She’s a writer, teacher, and the Left Coast Writers maven of ceremonies.  She currently has 2556 FB “friends.”  She’s a marketing dynamo and spares no effort in getting the word out about her soon-to-be released novel, Dead Love.  A link to the book is under the “Handy Links” tab on the right of this blog – http://www.deadlovebook.com/

My FB “friend” who has the next highest number of “friends” is Steve Wozniak.  That’s right, THE Steve Wozniak, co-founder of Apple computers. He currently has 1992 FB “friends.”  How is it that I’m “friends” with Steve Wozniak?  In FB, when you want to connect with a person for the first time, you send them a “Friend Request.”  That can be a generic FB generated request, or there’s the option of personalizing it with a message.  One evening I was trolling through the lists of “friends” my friends have when I discovered that my friend David Talbot was friends with The Woz.  I personalized my friend request by telling Steve Wozniak that my husband was writing computer code for his own video games when he was in high school on an Atari computer.  I told him that Lutrell doesn’t think much of Facebook but that he would be impressed if he [Steve Wozniak] friended me.  The next day, I was “friends” with Steve Wozniak; he accepted my friend request.  Lutrell was mildly amused, but he’s still not crazy about FB.

I honestly don’t know what to make of all of this “friends” stuff, but it does put a smile on my face…book.

I’ll post again next Friday.  Until then, have a great week, and thank you for all of your comments last week.  I enjoy everything you have to say.

Tomorrow I’ll be turning 50.  Hallelujah!  Bring ‘um on.  I’ll take every year I can have.  As some of you know, my mother died when I was sixteen and she was forty-three.  What you may not know is that her mother died at the age of forty-two when my mother was just thirteen.  With that kind of family history, you can understand why I’m so gung-ho about this birthday and all the ones to follow.

Fifty, for me, represents both a finish-line and a starting-gate.  I’m finished being a young lady.  There isn’t a hairstyle, an outfit, a mascara or face cream out there  that will ever make me look young.  Not that I’m old, I’m just not a kid anymore, not-even close, and that’s a good thing.  For the most part, I’m done saying “Yes,” when I mean “No.”  Gone are the days that I fret over who likes me and who doesn’t.  Size 8 is over, so is 20/20 vision.   I’m not afraid of the police, I pay my bills on time,  if something breaks I know how to get it fixed.

Approaching this finish-line has not been done with last-gasp efforts, no crash diets or cosmetic surgeries, no longing looks backwards.  I’m focused ahead with wide-eyed wonder.  I wonder what’s next?  I’m a lover of life, and very little surprises me.  I guess I’m still young enough to future trip, but I get it that it’s about the journey, not the destination.

What I bring forward is health, enthusiasm, and a smidgen of  wisdom.  I’m not yet an “old fool”  but I’m old enough now to see stuff comin’, and I can get out of the way when I need to.  I’m young enough to be flexible, but old enough to know where I stand.  I make a conscious effort not to take people too seriously because who needs that?  And I try not to take myself too seriously because that’s never pretty.  I make mistakes and when I do, I work at cleaning them up as quickly as possible.

From this starting-gate, I see there is still plenty to strive for.  Health and well-being could be a goal, and I don’t mean my own, I already have that.  At this point in my life, it matters to me that others are happy.  I don’t mean sugar gum-drops happy.  I mean peace of mind happy.  When I am surly to a telephone solicitor, when I honk my horn, when I’m short with a clerk, or when I wrangle somebody into negative gossip, I have to ask myself, “Have I improved that person’s day or worsened it?”  My answer should be the former, and when it’s not, there’s the work.

Somewhere along the line, I got it in my head that I would live to be at least ninety years old.  I could even see living to be one-hundred.  If that should come to pass, then I’ve got another fifty years ahead of me.  Lots of time to do lots of things.  I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to find another novel in me.  I’d like to learn to speak Spanish.  I can’t say what the coming years will hold, I only know I want to be here when they arrive.  I’m on my mark, I’m set, and I’m ready to keep going.  Can I make another 50?  I hope so.

Now a national historic monument amidst a bustling waterfront, Heinold’s Last Chance Bar in Jack London Square, Oakland, CA where the one and only drank with legendary gusto.  Fortunately for us, his muse didn’t mind.

I was down there yesterday to have lunch with my writing buddy, Julia Allenby, at Bocanova in Jack London Square, Oakland, CA.  She has just self-published a novel through Lulu.com, Taste Everything.  We compared notes on our mutual experiences and found that we had similar positive and negative things to say.  We’re very grateful to Lulu for the ease of uploading our digital documents for manufacture, but when something goes amiss, the automation means there’s nobody at the wheel.  The on-line chat can be seriously un-helpful.

What occurs to me as the highlight of our lunch however, is not the shop talk, it was the camaraderie.  This self-publishing endeavor is fraught with self-doubt, at least for me it is.  There’s always a whispering menace that tells me, “You’re doing this all wrong.  They’re laughing at you.”  They, they, they, that secret society that lurks in dark places.  It’s crazy making.  It takes great fortitude to stay in the game, to not pack up the books and pretend they never happened.  Lunch with Julia renewed my enthusiasm for this relatively small but rapidly growing community of brave writers.  As my friend Cary Tennis says, “We’re in the vanguard.”

Have a great week.  I’ll post again next Friday.  If you feel like it, comment on where in your life you feel like the lone wolf, and where you’re part of a pack.

Another week filled to the brim with book related networking.  Monday was Left Coast Writers.  This month, our guest speaker was Ransom Stevens.  His novel, The God Patent, provides the grounds for science and religion to hash out their differences.  Ransom (love that name) knows his science; he’s a retired professor of particle physics.  I’ll let you know about the religion after I’ve finished the book.

During his talk, he referred to “the new paradigm in publishing.”  The God Patent was originally released as an E-book through Scribd.  He explained how traditional publishing typically asks a prospective author, “Where will your book be shelved?”  They need to know its genre in order to market it.  In the new publishing paradigm, that question is irrelevant because it’s the readers who decide what category they think the book falls into.  In Ransom’s case, his book is considered fiction by some and science fiction by others.  But the point is, it doesn’t matter.  The process of shelving a book in a particular section in the bookstore isn’t the only way it gets exposed today.  This shift makes sense.  Ask yourself, do you buy a book because you heard it was good, or do you buy it because you heard it was science fiction?

With the breakout models of electronic publishing, self-publishing, and print-on-demand publishing all that matters is whether the book was enjoyable, and would you recommend it.  How one reader chooses to describe a book through an online comment center reflects their personal biases, and we expect that.  There is this whole new consumer-reviews phenomenon that provides another perspective that isn’t hinged to specific genre classifications.  This is good for me because Pearls My Mother Wore is fiction, but there is spirituality in it.  There is also family dysfunction, travel, food, and gardening.  On line, folks could key in any of those search words and possibly find my book, especially if I learn how to work meta tags and search engines.  All of that will take time, the good news is that the possibilities exist.

I’m taking the day off today.  My new friend, Jane, whose just moved to Sonoma from Alabama and I are going out to Point Reyes and the beach for a picnic.  Yippee!!

See you next Friday when I’ll post again.

On Monday, I conducted my third author talk.  This one was announced in the local newspaper, The Sonoma Index tribune, so I was wildly unsure of what the attendance might be.  Here is  what the newspaper ran:

Five years ago, in reaction to the last-man-standing/reality TV craze, Sonoman Terry Sue Harms made a casual statement to one of her hairdressing clients that she would like to see something “where the losers were the winners.”

Little did she know that a creative muse must have been listening, because, on the heals of that thought, the storyline for “Pearls My Mother Wore” was born. Harms will share her book on Monday, June 28, at 6 p.m. in the Seven Flags Clubhouse, 1400 W. Watmaugh Road.

The story is about a young woman whose husband dies suddenly and unexpectedly, just as her wayward, bad-boy nephew shows up looking for yet another helping hand. Although complications arise, eventually they help heal each other.

“Ultimately this is a story about loss and recovery, resentment and forgiveness,” Harms said.

She considers herself an unlikely author since she’s a hairdresser by trade and didn’t read her first book until she was in her 20s.

While crafting the novel Harms sought professional help from Cary Tennis, the “Since You Asked” advice columnist of Salon.com.

Tennis said, “What I find admirable about this work is its untutored fidelity to internal phenomena, a fidelity that is at times clumsy but is also fierce and unrelenting. There are many ways to express grief, anger and revelation. A writer tutored in an MFA program might create a many-layered, lacquered sheen of grief, anger and revelation. What Terry has done, it seems to me, is make a large, true-to-life, lumbering monster of (it).”

Learn more at www.pearlsmymotherwore.com.

Nice, huh?

I’ve heard from several people that they saw the article, so thank you Sonoma Index Tribune!  Despite the media attention, my talk was attended by nine guests, not exactly a sell out, but of the nine, six bought books.  I can’t complain about that.

My friend, Carol Drews, arranged for us to use the comfortable (air conditioning)  clubhouse at one of the local senior communities here in Sonoma.  The intimacy of the group calmed my pre-talk jitters, so I was fairly relaxed.  A couple of the attendees had heard me before, so I thought I would spend more time talking about my experiences with self publishing.  I got about ten minutes into it, when one of the guests raised her hand and asked me to back up and speak more about my personal experiences and how they influenced my writing.  The others seemed to concur.  I admit, I was a little thrown off.  I had prepared for the self-publishing topic.  Learning to read an audience is now part of my book-promoting skill building set.

My personal story is easy enough to get into, but I was surprised that it seemed to matter.  I was guilty of thinking nobody wants to hear about little ol’ me.  It was a good lesson.  My personal story is a big part of this whole writing adventure.  How I made it out of reading no-mans land, and the sudden and unexpected deaths of four significant people in my life, are two key elements worthy of discussion at my author events.  It’s a good thing these lessons come as they do, because I’m pretty sure that these personal revelations would have scared me silent in the early days of the novel’s creation.

In the “Figure/Ground Perception” blog post on February 19th, I’ve written some about learning to read.  The sudden and unexpected deaths have not been covered.  Briefly, when I was around sixteen years old, four important people in my life died without warning.  My mother’s best friend’s husband had a heart attack and died on the living room floor.  My best friend’s uncle, a man I had adopted as my own uncle, recently returned from Viet Nam, fell asleep at the wheel and drove under a semi-truck.  My mother was next.  And then, my best friend’s grandmother, who I called “Gramma,” died in her sleep.  My best friend and I were the ones who found her.

So when it comes to the grief of Kelly Tremblake, the main character in Pearls My Mother Wore, those were the experiences I leaned on to write her with such emotional depth.

I have been mulling over the lessons learned at the Monday book talk, and I’m grateful to be building such an involved audience.

Speaking of involved audiences, Facebook.  I now have 66 “Friends” on Facebook.  If anybody reading this blog does Facebook, please send me a “Friend Request” with a message explaining how you found me.  I’m so jazzed by the scene on Facebook.  It’s difficult to convey exactly why because in the telling it sounds, well, a little weak.  The contact is light and topical, mostly current affairs and current interests.  I like feeling as though I’m in a big conversation.  My normal world is generally not populated by so many people.  When I log onto Facebook, it’s as if I’m walking into a big crowd where I know everybody, and I can chime in with my thoughts wherever I choose.

This is getting long, but on a final note about the week, I wrote this months piece for the “Road Works” blog.  It’s the blog for my Left Coast Writers group.  You can read what I had to say about my decision to self-publish by using the Left Coast Writers link on my sidebar here, under “Handy Links.”

Have a great week, and as always, I love getting comments.

Right after last week’s post, Lutrell and I headed half-way down the state to the small village town of Cambria, CA.  It’s just over a four-hour drive from Sonoma.  We didn’t stop; however, there were some very tempting fresh fruit stands in Gilroy.   Cambria is north of Moro Bay and just a few miles south of San Simeon and the famous Hearst Castle.  We rented, through VRBO.com,  a lovely house just across the street from the Pacific ocean.  The neighborhoods are filled with homes that have every kind of garden art imaginable.  It’s like hippy, senior citizens meet Martha Stewart.  Some of the landscaping is quite tasteful, and then some of the yards are tacky to the highest degree, rendering them marvels to behold.  The weather there tends to be cool in the Summer, so the flowers were sensational.

While we were there, I continued to tackle technical challenges with Facebook and my new Blackberry super-phone.  I’ve still got a ways to go, but the tricks and clicks are getting easier.

My writing buddy from New Mexico, Brian Herrera, Facebooked this link:

http://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/authors/interviews/article/43565-here-comes-clay-shirky.html

You can copy and paste the link into your browser to get to the article.  I found it exciting.  Clay Shirky wasn’t a name I recognized, but discovered he is one of the those big picture kinds of guys.  He has been writing and commenting about the internet for almost twenty years, long before I’d ever even heard of a modem.  In 2008 he authored: Here Comes Everybody: The Power of Organizing without Organizations.  His recently released second book is: Cognitive Surplus.  In it, he describes the internet as a place where consumers can “donate” their free to “non-passive” entertainment.  The unprecedented access people have to information makes the digital revolution not just fun and games but also a place where real social/civic change can, and does, occur.  He is quoted in what is now referred to as the Shirky Principal:  “Institutions will try to preserve the problem to which they are the solution.”  This has particular resonance for me in terms of my experiences with self-publishing.  Lulu Press offered me the non-institution option.

I was just looking at the article again.  At the end of it was a opportunity to post a comment, so I did.  But then it seemed to disappear.  I thought maybe it had been too long of a comment, so I posted a shorter version.  It too disappeared.  But now, I see both of my comments are on the page.  That’s a little embarrassing, but then again, it’s press.

Here is the longer version:

As a recently self-published author, I’m very aware of the good/bad debate over the digital baby that has arrived. Lots of folks don’t know what to make of it, but it’s here, and I’m good with it. During this crux in time, I see huge organization faltering, if not collapsing entirely. The Banking industry, housing industry, health care, entertainment, political systems, Energy, etc., they’re all going down because they rely too heavily on secrecy and ignorance. The days of insider knowledge, back-room dealings, exclusive clubs, and secret societies are quickly coming to an end. We have the internet to thank for that. This baby is heralding the promise of democracy; it’s like voting…on steroids. My novel is in the world by the powers I vest in myself. I’m no longer waiting to be anointed by an unknowable, publishing corporation, a curtained Oz character. For better or worse, I pull my own strings, and I’m good with it.
–by: TerrySueHarms @ 20100622230027

My lesson for the week has been, don’t give up.  All of the frustrations I have felt when trying to get my computer and Blackberry to perform have to be taken in stride.  I like the game.  I want to be in it.  I can’t let technical difficulties hold me back.  I have to dig deep, be tenacious.

I’ll post again next Friday.  In the meantime, enjoy your week.  Post comments, I love them.

Here are some Cambria pictures.  There are seven more on my Facebook page.

Triumph!  We did lots of mountain biking in Cambria’s Fiscalini Park.

Lutrell and Terry, the Pacific ocean is in the background.

Lutrell is the photographer.  He has a great eye.

So far, the Facebook venture is going O.K.  I’ve been pleased to discover that I feel very friendly toward my facebook friends.  I guess that makes sense because they’re people I already know.  I haven’t gone to the next level of “friending” friends.  Just now I’m hooking up with people I haven’t seen in years but who are still very much in my heart.  Many of my connections are with people I used to work with in Berkeley, CA.  One woman is my hairdressing pal, Sally, from New Zealand.  It’s terrific finding this way of getting current with folks.  As of right now, I have twenty-eight Facebook friends.

Learning the ropes with Facebook has been beyond time consuming.  To stay on top of Facebook, I have swapped out my very basic cell-phone for a Blackberry.  What this means is that almost every waking hour, when I’m not at work doing hair, I’m peering at one screen or another.  When I burned the corn the other night, Lutrell asked why my Blackberry hadn’t warned me.  Ha, Ha, Ha.

I’m looking forward to figuring out these new communication tools and settling down and settling in.  It’s so lovely to be here on the blog.  This blog really feels like home to me.  I’m sure Facebook and my Blackberry will become equally comforting, but this week we’re all still on company manners.

I’ve decided to start something I’m calling

“Pearlescence:  a shimmering quote for today…” on my Facebook Fan Page.  The Fan Page is for Facebook people who are fans of Pearls My Mother Wore, people who wish to follow its activities and news on a regular basis.  This is today’s Pearlescence:

“Politeness is the art of choosing among one’s real thoughts.”  By Abel Stevens

When I say, “company manners,” you can assume I’m being polite. ;0

I’ll look forward to posting here again next Friday.  Have a great week!