Stuff My Agent Made Me Take Out For Very Good Reasons #1

I love this prayer I wrote for my novel Act of Grace, but my agent said it was to much, and she's right, but I still love it. My Buddhist friend, who I thought would be really offended, loved it so much she asked for a copy.

My sister says this is how we pray when we know we have to forgive but we are still too angry to do it the right way. She says God understands but the expectation is that we have to do better in the future. That was my thought about the charater Grace when I wrote the prayer. At this point in the novel she knows she's suppose to forgive, but she's still too angry to do it right.

A Prayer for Our Enemy

Forgive all our enemies, those who can still be helped as well as all the abominable and evil ones who still be hating on us and wishing evil on us and just being dumb and ignorant by lying and deceiving and judging and damnming us. Holy One be as honey to my enemies. Holy One be as the moon and the sun and the stars to them that hate us. Holy One please take from me my desire to beat my enemies’ lying, deceitful and judgmental asses.

Amen

To My Mother Dorothy Jean Vancatledge Simpson

My mother is a poem I'll never be able to write, though everything I write is a poem to my mother.
~Sharon Doubiago

Thanks mom for everything. You died too young but all your little birds are doing well.

Love Karen

Memories of Race Horses Past

Paparouna also known as Poppy

I love horses and horse racing. When I was young I read nothing but horse novels and dreamed of learning to ride. Horse love got me into quilting but that's a story for another time. I use to be more addicted to the sport of racing than I am now. Once upon another lifetime I could spout off racing stats and quote pedigrees like scripture. I was the only African American teenager I knew who could read and use the Daily Racing Form.

About eleven years ago I was involved in a group called Virtual Owner Partnership where for 500.00 ( yes 500.00 ) a person could participate in the ownership of a racehorse. We were a group of folks who came from all walks of life to indulge in our obsession via the Internet. It was one of the most interesting thing I've ever done.

The first horse I was a part of was a wonderful filly named Papaprouna. Paparouna was a beautiful flaming red daughter of the great Kentucky Derby winner Unbridled, a grand daughter of the immortal Secretariat. The only reason our cash poor group got her was because during the auction a bird pooped on the head of the other high bidder and by the time he came back from washing the poop out his hair our group had her. There was almost a fist fight in the parking lot about that.

Paparouna was big ( 17 hands), strong and freakishly fast. Fillies and colts from the Unbridled bloodlines tend to come that way, they also tend to be rather unsound. During her racing career Paparouna was constantly sore or coming up lame. As a three year old she was on track to be nominated for the Kentucky Oaks (the filly's version of the Kentucky Derby) . Unfortunately she came up sore before the big race. As bad as we wanted to go to Kentucky- I mean it is the dream of a lifetime for any owner- our group had enough sense and horsemanship to send our baby back to the farm to rest and recover. Other horses in racing aren't so lucky. Horse racing in America tends to be about money and speed even it hurts the horse.

We raced Poppy for a while and then sold her to become a broodmare. While we received a lot of money for Poppy, several of the small time partners, including me, couldn't help but think that we were helping to past those unsound genes to the next generation.

Perhaps you have heard by now of the filly Eight Belles who shattered both front legs after finishing second in this years Kentucky Derby. It was a blessing that the camera was on the winner Big Brown when it happened. Eight Belles was huge, strong and freakishly fast and it didn't surprise me when I checked her pedigree that she was out of those fragil Unbridled's Although the winner of the Kentucky Derby is a great story, I'm still heartsick over Eight Belles. May she rest in peace in the great lush pastures of the sky.

Horse racing needs to do some deep soul searching. Information about this year's Kentucky Derby and the Eight Belles tragedy is available on NPR.

My First Meme - How Quirky Am I ?

Carleen over at the Pajama Gardener tagged me for my first meme.

Here are the rules:

Link the person who tagged you.

Mention the rules in your blog.

Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.

Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.

Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger's blogs
letting them know they've been tagged

My problem is that most of my friends don’t blog so I’m just going to link to the one that does. So, Stehanie Feldstein you and your lovely pitbulls come on down.

My quirks :


I have a terrible sense of direction meaning I couldn’t find my way around a small paper bag. I am the last person in the world you would want to ask for directions to anywhere. I navigate around my home town almost solely by landmarks. Don’t ever ask me what street something is on because I probably couldn't tell you. Thank God for Map Quest and cars with GPS units .

I’ve been to Ghana, Nova Scotia and Ireland but I have never traveled to the Upper Peninsula of my home state of Michigan, which is pretty strange

I’m very picky about the kind of yellow pads and mechanical pencils I use to write my first drafts of fiction on. I didn’t use to be like this. The first draft chapter of Act of Grace was written on small post it notes because the story just felt too big and scary to write on larger sheets of paper. ( My sister says that writers are just so damn weird)

Nobody and I do mean nobody uses my large quilting scissors,especially the ones I use to cut fabric with. I have found that a lot of quilters are like this about their personal sewing equipment.

Like Carleen I too have to keep everything I use within eyesight, especially for the book I’m writing ,or any quilt I’m working on. It leads to piles of stuff on all my tables and my desk.

One of my favorite foods in the world is chocolate covered matzo. I don’t like to use salad size forks to eat with. I truly believe that okra is a disgusting, useless vegetable. An added extra bonus quirk - I leave the Television on to keep my dog Nyla company while I'm at work.( Yes I know it's wasteful but I worry that she gets lonely.)

What It Looks Like When A Dream Comes True

Wow, I have an agent. After seven years of hard work on my novel I finally got the call or rather a four o’clock in the morning email from Anita Diggs that said “ I just finished your novel and I would like to offer you a contract.” I almost fell out my chair and had to read it again to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I danced around the living room with my little dog Nyla who, like all little dogs, thought the celebration was all about her. I waited until a decent hour to call my sister and we sat on the phone all breathless and squealing like kids. I still went to work, but later during lunch, I cried because I wanted my parents to be here . This is the hard part of celebrating this milestone in my life, the people who made it possible aren't alive to see it.


Here’s a little bit about my agent ( My agent- I still can’t believe it.)

Anita Diggs has worked as a Senior Editor at Random House, Editor at Time Warner Trade Publishing and Senior Editor at Thunder's Mouth Press. She has lectured across the country on the topics of developmental editing, fiction writing and how to get a literary agent. The New York Times, The Chicago Tribune, C-Span and The New York Daily News have all interviewed her over the past eight years. Columbia Journalism Review placed Ms. Diggs on their “The Shapers” list for the year 2000. The Shapers is a list of prominent New Yorkers who shape the national media.

Bottle Tree Love

Bottle Trees are prominently featured in my novel. I love them. I am fascinated by their beauty and their deep connection to Africa. I have one bottle tree-small and pretty. Now I want others- taller and bigger. I want Bottle Trees that people can see as they drive by my house. I have been sketching plans to build them. You can buy them at places like BottleTree.com but the quilter in me is demanding that I try to build my own. So, sometime this spring I’ll be at Home Depot buying wood and calling on my wine drinking friends.

For those who don’t know what bottle trees are here is the basic description:

The West African tradition of placing bottles and other luminous objects on trees as adornment, a practice that has thrived through the African Diaspora and is now predominately found in the southern region of the United States. The bottle tree tradition holds that spirits are attracted to the bottle and are trapped inside. When the winds blow, the low howl emitted from the bottles is said to be the sound of those spirits inside.

A deeper description is located at the website below:

http://www.dikenga.com/films/firecracker/sessions2/session7/bottle.html

An absolutely beautiful article by Susan Lee Travis called Roots, Reflections and the Blue Bottle Trees is on the Travis House Graphic website. Take a look it will probably make you want to build your own Bottle Tree.

A blog called Deep Fried Kudzu also has direction on making a bottle tree from an old christmas tree.

CHRISTMAS MEMORY

One of the best gifts I ever received was a typewriter from my father when I was twelve years old. When I opened the box my very practical mother said, “Well now you can practice to be a secretary.” In 1967 the best a black girl could hope to grow up to be was a secretary or a teacher. I remember looking up at my father and saying, "No I going to be a writer.” My father smiled and nodded like he knew this was going to be the truth. This is my favorite writing memory. It is why my first book will be dedicated to my father.

Merry Christmas everyone and may all your best dreams come true.