Beach Weekend

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Two weeks ago I visited Ocean Isle Beach with four of my girlfriends. All of us are in our forties. That’s an important point to remember as we move forward.

We arrived Thursday night and did the requisite drinks and seafood (and drinks) dinner and called it a night so we could hit the beach early. We woke up, donned our bikinis, packed a light lunch—Bloody Marys counting as a light lunch—and faced our first big decision of the day. What level sunscreen to use?

It’s a tough call. On one hand, prolonged sun exposure leads to accelerated aging with fine lines, wrinkles and age spots.

On the other hand, we all look phenomenal with a tan.

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"Write" Back Into The Thick of Things

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The writing career may be shimmering back to life. An editor at a small press contacted me last month about authoring a niche cookbook. (Keep your comments to yourself—I don’t have to come up with the recipes myself which is a shame because I could so do a cookbook around “50 New and Inventive Ways To Make A Meal Out of Almond Butter.” ) Details on that project soon to follow.

In addition, I’ve been working with a close friend on dialogue for an exciting project revolving around  a supernatural drama based in Romania during the dark ages. SAMCA is a tale rooted in folklore with themes of betrayal, tragedy and heroism. The trailer is being turned into a short film with the hopes of being picked up. I’ve not previously worked in screenplays and I’m having more fun than expected working in that medium. Watch the original trailer here.

I’ve also got a couple of new book ideas. Nothing solid, but the ideas are there, percolating.

I was concerned that having a career that required I spend the bulk of my day writing would “kill” the creative juices. And some days, it does. But I’m finding for the most part that the confidence that comes from turning around a video script or commercial copy or blog post for a client on short notice and a tight deadline is bringing confidence to other areas of my writing life.

Dena

Careful - We Become What We Sneer At

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I walked in my condo the other day and found my mom had left me a note.

Met your neighbor Sherry—last unit in your building. She’s 45, very friendly and said for you to stop by anytime and introduce yourself or she’s around if you ever need anything.

 Swear to God, my knee-jerk thought was, “Who is this sad, older woman my mom is trying to have me be friends with?” Then it hit me.

Forty-five.

This sad older woman is one  year older than me.

I had to laugh. Perspective is a scary thing.  

Cheers,

Dena


No Food, No Time, No Problem

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I am "Make-A-Meal-Out-Of-Nothing" queen. Had a 6:30 writer's group meeting tonight so I raced home from work, threw some kibble into the cat's dish, changed clothes, shoved a load of towels in the dryer and realized I had seven minutes to find, prepare and eat a meal if I wanted any shot at dinner before ten.

I opened the fridge and was greeted by a vast wasteland marred only by two hard-boiled eggs with a questionable freshness date and half a jar of kalamata olives. Then I spotted a red pepper, a mushy avocado and I remembered I still had three strips of turkey bacon left. BAM! Sandwich. Turkey-bacon-avocado on a red pepper "roll." Absolutely delicious and I cooked and ate the whole thing in under 3 minutes. 

Breakfast tomorrow may be a stretch. I'm thinking a bag of frozen vegetables is my best option. I hate when I get behind in my cooking.

Cheers,

Dena