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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Scribbles and Scrambles - Color My World Pt 1

Today, I look like a modern impressionist canvas. I’m wearing every known crayon color, or at least all the primary and secondary ones. For some strange reason this makes me happy. I suppose it could be the two cups of coffee I’ve already sucked down. But, for the sake of argument, I’m going with the color theory. And, while I’m on the subject of choosing to believe things, I’m going to believe that when people call me a “piece of work” it is in reference to art.

I asked some people to share their color thoughts and it’s time to reveal those insightful answers to you, my readers, including the anonymi. (New word – Noun plural for anonymous.)

The people who received the question regarding color are all novelists, which is appropriate since I’m a wannabe. Have I mentioned that I’m currently penning a mystery novel? “Penning” sounds so much more literary than “clicking my brains out.” I’m sure you’ll be hearing more about this later.

I’m not alone in this novel pursuit, I have a co-authoress. We will be “pitching” (wannabe author talk for begging someone to buy the idea so we can finish the book) the idea and first few chapters in September in Dallas (not to be confused with Paris in April – and for the record I’ve never been either place.) As of a month ago I wasn’t attending the ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers) conference, but then life changed and now I’m going. I’d mention how excited I am, but I’m afraid after the whole cricket poem my dear readers would be frightened.

So, now that I’m out of space for the day, consider this preparation for a colorful upcoming week on Scrambled Dregs.