Sure, the series was well-written. But this pretty face doesn’t hurt matters at all.

I still remember when my dad brought home a color television set. 

“Look, Tonia, we have color tv now.”

I looked all over the set for the colors. I was disappointed until he turned Scooby Doo on.  It was a beautiful old console tv and it was mine when I moved out on my own years later- lift the lid and you found not only a record player, but an eight track player as well. You had to get up and turn the knob if you wanted to change the channel.

Later, we moved out to the country and had access to all of five channels. My sister and I spent our Saturday night watching SNL (this was the 90′s. Adam Sandler entertained us with Opera Man, we loved Church Lady, and I did a first-rate Coffee Talk impression.  ”Barbara Streisand? Like buttah’.”) Then, we flipped it to PBS for Are You Being Served before the Hitchcock movies came on. We loved our Saturday night ritual.

But we read lots of books, told lots of ghost stories, and played outside with our dogs. We rode our bikes and begged our mom to go exploring in the woods and play in the creek. My parents rented a vcr from time-to-time, but we never had a Nintendo or Sega game player.

We don’t have cable or satellite. What we do have is internet connection and pay for Netflix streaming. The kids do have Wii games they never play. But every day my son wants nothing more to go outside for a walk. My daughters love to go down to the creek and catch fish with handmade poles their dad made for them.  They ride bikes and eat Popsicles by the hundreds.

Three years ago, it was estimated that 90% of Americans have cable. In 2012, surveys revealed that 10% of that number “cut the cord.” The top reason is that so many shows are available online, and with e-readers, Americans are reading more book and news magazine content as well. (Yes!)

I have to admit, I resisted the idea of no cable, but our pockets weren’t deep enough. As the children get older and I get a little older, too- I couldn’t be paid to turn on cable or satellite.  And as much as there are two shows- Game of Thrones and Doctor who(no spoilers on either, please!)- I would love to stay current on, I say that honestly.

As a parent, I have more control over what my kids feed their brains with.  My kids are great, but they’re like any other children. I’ve seen them turn into zombies the moment we enter a home and the television set is on. They need me to be the mom, to say(and I’ve said it a hundred times), “That’s junk. That’s not appropriate. ” Or my favorite, “Enough of that. It makes my brain hurt. Can’t be good for yours.”

We read the news more than we watch it, and talk with the children about the world around them. But they never saw a little girl being interviewed following a school shooting.    I talked to my daughters about their power and independence as women, and that sadly, yes, it’s still an issue, a battle. But they didn’t witness a political leader’s gaffe about women, rape, and abortion.

Can we monitor every piece of information, or misinformation, that goes into their heads?

No. Yet, if you ask my daughters, they can tell you about critical thinking and the difference between an opinion and fact.

Without the constant influx of media, I feel my children can inform themselves better about body image, gender roles, and understand that the line between fact and fantasy is far bigger than advertisers and politicians would lead us to believe.

Going without cable inspires a slow revolution within me.

I read more, think more, and I started writing three years ago. I have an inner life. You don’t know how much you miss this until you make room for it.

When  I read that Nelson Mandela is in critical condition, I don’t change the channel. I think about what this one man has meant to the world, and I am touched, and say a prayer for his health and spirit. I cry when a child dies, or clap my hands when ordinary people do the right thing and don’t ask for returns.

I have time to ask questions. All the questions until I find the right ones. We live in a complicated world full of opinions, myth, violence, and beauty. I need the time and space to form my own  ideas. Television makes me a passive participant in the world.

Do I hate television? No. I recently confessed on Facebook that I spent a Friday night watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer(which ranked #49 on this list of 101 best written shows) while editing. I love watching TED talks, and have a special love for cult movies like Donnie Darko and The Labyrinth(my children all refer to David Bowie as the Goblin King.)

I don’t espouse to be perfect, or even wise. And I’m hardly the most motivated person you’ll meet. That’s part of the turn-off for me- knowing that for myself, and my family, life without cable will only lead us to a better, more fulfilled life.

For us, life without cable doesn’t mean less, it means more.

Sand Castle at Cannon Beach
photo by Curt Smith

We lined up pebbles along the shore

never minding the time that went by

or the tides that broke down the lives

we wanted to build with hands prone to reach for

anything we shouldn’t have.

I told a friend we’re too young for this

grief and reckoning with our own fallibility,

but some cliches sound pretty

and others drop like lead weights

rolling aimlessly until someone has the grace to say

there must be something more, we just haven’t

found it yet.

But we’re dream-makers and build sand castles

finding treasure in bittersweet meat

and when the night rolls in with the breakers

we count the stars behind the dark

leaving behind the pebbles along the shore.

~Woody Allen

I looked at my watch. I stood in line with a cart full of groceries, an overtaxed toddler, and my two daughters. It was almost ten at night.

The girls did what they do at Walmart- they danced. Don’t ask me why. I love to dance like a weirdo, too. But in the confines of my own home. Or after a few margaritas. I took a deep breath and grabbed another package of cookies from my son’s itchy, roaming hands.

Then, it happened. A sonic boom and the clatter of rain on a metal roof.

Oh shit, I thought. Well, thank goodness for the Starbucks gift card stashed in my purse. I’m going to need a drink. If not a stiff one, one laced with caffeine and sugar would do.

My son cupped his hands over his ears and grinned. “It’s raining outside.”

The girls stopped dancing to help me load groceries onto the conveyor belt. They’re cool like that.

My entire day weighed down on me. Up at six that morning to write, then a two-mile run. Cleaning, errands.

We reached the doors when it really started to pour.  Each of us in shorts and bare arms.

I did what a good mom tries to do. I smiled gamely and shrugged.

My son started crying.

Oh dear.

I winked  at my younger daughter, who grinned

We ran out into rain that stings our faces, splashing the cold water up around our shins. I hunched over my son as his wails increase in decibel when lightning jabs the dark sky. The girls reach the car first and open the door so  I can toss Little Brother into his car seat before he melts.

Then, I hear them.

Giggles.

“At the height of laughter, the universe is flung into a kaleidoscope of new possibilities.”

~Jean Houston

It’s the little things that pull us out of our busy heads and into the moment.

My daughters- did I mention how cool they are- were loading groceries, unasked, into the back of our SUV. And giggling about it. In the rain.

I joined them.  What else could I do? Heck, I raised the  little weirdos.

The sound of their girlish trills popped that little doomsday bubble that had been building inside of me and rose up out of my mouth in giggles.  Now, my laughter is not cute. I sound like a braying donkey on amphetamines. Which made us laugh harder. And my son joined in.

By the time we wiped tears and rain from our faces, and packed the loonies in with the groceries, the rain stopped.

We didn’t care. I picked up my husband from work and he shook his head at our crazy-laughter story, grinning. I forgot to feel tired and went home and wrote another two pages.

The next day, my son cried because we forgot chocolate milk.  The Tickle Monster grabbed him and didn’t let up until he squirted milk from his nose. It was a beautiful thing.

I don’t know why or when I stopped laughing. I didn’t miss it or think about until my daughters reminded me to laugh in the rain.

I promised to laugh more often. Surely an easier task than quitting smoking, getting up at six a.m. to write every day, or training for a half-marathon. And what happened to the bubbly person I used to be?

Did she die a slow death at the hands of cynicism and self-defeat?

Hell no. She’s still here.
“Man, when you lose your laugh you lose your footing.”

  ~Ken Kesey

The real test came a few days later. A saleslady for Kirby carpet shampooers showed up at my door. (Which I found ironic, and maybe a tad iconic, if you will. Vacuum salesperson at the homemaker’s door. I felt like I’d arrived- I don’t know where- until…)

Salesperson: Hi, honey. Is your mom here?

Me: I am the mom.

Salesperson: Oh, look at you! You’re expecting a baby!

Me: No, I’m not.

I’m a really, really nice person. Okay, no, I’m curious and masochistic. She pitched her wares, and an hour later another woman showed up to clean our carpet.

Lady: Ooh, when are you due?

Me: I’m not expecting.

Lady: Oh, well, you look really young for your age.

They didn’t charge a penny for the sample cleaning, or leave a single brochure.

The next morning, I’m doing sit-ups and my son plops down on my belly. He pulls my shirt up and examines my belly. Then, starts laughing.

“Your belly is gross,” He informs me.

I stare at him, thunderstruck for a moment. I start to plead with the universe to be nice to me, but I realize- wait, this is kind of funny. And do I want to be that mom who can’t laugh at herself?

He sticks his finger in my belly button.

“Watch this,” I say and do another crunch.

“Your belly button bit me!”

And we laughed.

Like I said: That fun girl who dances like a weirdo and thinks So I Married An Ax Murderer is the funniest movie ever?

She’s still here. And she kind of rocks. Belly and all.

Artwork by Leonid Pasternak

My writing life is a doubled-edged sword. I am one of those “lucky” writers overwhelmed with characters, places and ideas. And yet, each time I sat down to write about these vivid characters and exciting ideas they always found a way to slip through my fingers.

Of course many pages end up in the wastebasket, we all know that is part of writing process, but in my case I knew there was something more. My characters were interesting, they had stories to tell—so what was I missing? For awhile I wondered if all these uninvited guests who had taken up residence in my head, demanding to be heard, were there for no artistic reason at all. But if that was the case I needed to put down the pen pretty quick and get to nearest psychiatrist’s office. Instead of calling my health insurance to find out my mental health co pay, I began to do some digging.

I subscribed to writers blogs, and read scores of books on craft from the library. All of this information that appeared to help so many other writers, why wasn’t it helping me? The search for an answer can be a long and painful one when you have no idea what the question is. And then one day it happened. A novelist wrote an article about the 3 questions she asked herself about a story idea before she dove into the project.

What is my intention?

What is my belief?

What do I want to prove to my reader?

Suddenly it was all so simple! I had never thought to ask myself these fundamental questions before I sat down to write. I was writing with the mindset that if I just sat down to write it would all work out in the end. Naïve? You bet! When I realized that it was my lack of intention in all of my stories, everything began to make sense. Why I had countless false starts and was so easily led astray by outside influences in my stories. I was simultaneously frustrated and relieved.

Now armed with this new self-awareness, I have gone back to basics. As I go back through each of my story ideas I think long and hard on these 3 questions, and I know I cannot move forward with one unless I have answered all 3 honestly and completely. And if it turns out that I cannot? Well then my great idea for a story may always just be that- an idea. And that’s ok too.

Here is how I answered the questions for one of my stories:

What is my intention?   To write a novel about the expectations of a famous artistic family and how one can overcome a betrayal of those who should protect and guide you in life.

What is my belief?   A strong belief that elders can deceive and sacrifice family, for the approval of society and strangers. 

What do I want to prove to my reader?  That being born into a powerful family is an obligation that can test your moral compass.

Going back to square one on works in progress requires great patience, often my biggest obstacle. For the story mentioned above I have revisited my 3 questions on more than ten occasions now, but each time I go back the idea moves closer to becoming an actual story that I feel I can complete.

By utilizing these 3 questions all hope and promise of each idea is slowly renewed as I realize my characters and ideas are good after all, they only need a clear intention and purpose from the very beginning.

Do you have criteria that you use before you start a story? Do you ask questions like these? What about a variation on these 3 questions- any suggestions you’d like to share?

I would love to hear your thoughts on this topic!

Thank you for reading!

About the author:

Tonya S. Rothe studied Literature and the Humanities. She has devoted her life to literature and art, and is in the process of completing her first novel. She moved from California to Boston in 2008 and hasn’t settled down yet, with plans to relocate back to the west coast in the near future. You can read more from her at 
http://hicsuntverba.wordpress.com/ and http://theculturedcreature.com/*

*TheCulturedCreature. com will be available to readers June 1, 2013

found its way through the kitchen window

and whiffs of peppermint crackled in the air.

We looked for her face-

the big smile brightened by lipstick-

in the window when we left and waited

for the waggle of long, manicured fingers.

Pages under an April tree

washed ink coloring fingers blue

trying to hold onto these things-

photos, candy jars, old perfume bottles

and remembering you on long walks

just as the lilac begins to bloom.

Life is a stuttering clutter of words

trying to untangle soft knots of pain,

violence, and sobering consequence.

Pages under an April tree-

I don’t want to lose the sound of your voice

the poetry of learning to swing in your back yard

the prose of listening in on idle gossip and

never trying to bake an apple pie

because it will never taste like yours.

These verses stumble against each other

like the piano chords I played in church

while you cleaned and said I had natural talent.

While the rain chatters like a naughty child

seeking attention

and the world changes from grey to a Technicolor hue

we wrap our hearts in pages from beneath an April tree

tucking ourselves in paper pockets and tell the story

of a woman whose laugh brought the sunlight.

Happy Birthday, Grandma. We love you

Madonna Golden (April 16, 1922- October 27, 2012)

in constant astonishment and guilt without blame.

It makes you vulnerable

and when you fall from the wires

there’s no one to catch you.

There now my sweet child

crying in my arms

Mother’s come to kiss away the nightmares

don’t be alarmed.

In the dark blight you found me

and I found relief.

 We’re bright like the wildflowers

and as infinite as the stars.

I felt God beside me, He told me

you die a little

to be born again.

Time filled with envy

for all those who sleep.

But I’ll trade a thousand dreams

to dry your tears and sing

these curious lullabies.

Rated: PG13

The faucet’s drippy

the floors are sticky

and I’m up to my elbows in suds.

But, yes, my love I’ll feed you leftovers

and nibble on your various charms.

We knock against counters

and slide along wet spots

stifling giggles and sighs

while the radio plays

Aretha Franklin

(you make me feel…)

and Marvin Gaye

(oh mercy me…).

Cover me in kisses

sweeter than apple pie.

But after dessert comes dishes

you wash, my love, and I’ll dry.

by Tonia Marie Harris

Poem-A-Day Challenge Day 3

word-lusty by candlelight

you must be a man

by Tonia Marie Harris

Poem-A-Day Challenge Day 2

Toulouse Lautrec
Loie Fuller

For want of spring she

drank thirsty the sun and danced

to the Grateful Dead

by Tonia Marie Harris

Day One of Poem-A-Day Challenge

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkKuhAxcH7g

SIDEKICK: THE MISADVENTURES OF THE NEW SCARLET KNIGHT   by Pab Sungenis Publish date: March 12, 2013 by Month9Books, LLC   Bobby Baines is in high school, which is bad enough. But things go from bad to worse when his hero, Scarlet Knight, dies. Bobby is forced to take up his mantel, becoming the new Scarlet Knight. Only Scarlet Knight never had to deal with eeking out a passing grade in math, keeping his fellow sidekicks in check, or stopping a giant squid from bearing down on his high school and crushing everyone inside. All this while trying to get the girl! It’s going to take a lot more than a cape, sword and fancy watch to fill Scarlet’s Knight’s shoes. After all, Bobby Baines is no super hero, he’s a Sidekick!

3.5 stars

The story promised fun, humor, and adventure. It delivered. My inner fangirl loved the premise- a bumbling underdog trying to save the day, pick a college, and get the girl. Bobby bumbles, but his humility and kick-ass sense of humor kept me reading, and rooting for him. Pab’s delivery of the story- just a touch shaky in the middle- approaches what could be considered standard material with tons of energy and the voice of someone who takes the zaniness of super- heroism in stride. And does so with love.    I wanted more- Bobby’s surrounded by superheroes and sidekicks alike, and I wanted them more fully realized. The romance didn’t leave me out cold, but Bobby’s feelings for The Girl impact the decisions he makes. I felt they were glossed over when they’re central to the story. Although there’s some brief sexuality and language, I plan to buy a copy for my youngest daughter(tomboy, age eleven.) I recommend this book to readers who love the Percy Jackson series and movies like Kick Ass and Super 8.

  1.  What challenges (research, revisions, etc) did you face in completing this story?   The main challenge came during the writing process. The “A” plot of the book is, obviously, Bobby’s adjusting to his new position as a superhero, but the “B” plot is, essentially, a murder mystery. Who killed Bobby’s foster father? Well, about two-thirds of the way through the first draft I realized I had the wrong murderer. While laying red herrings I found that there was someone else out there who had a better motive and whose revelation would have even more of an effect on Bobby. So I had to go back and change a number of things.

2.  What is your writing process? Do you have a regular routine?   I don’t really have a routine. I always know where a story begins and where it ends, but the middle is a mystery to me, so I just let the story flow when and if it comes. Things flowed amazingly well with Sidekick, and I got the first draft done in 28 days. Of course, that was followed by three years’ worth of revisions, so the end result is debatable.

3.  What books/authors have influenced your life and writing?   I think the biggest influence on my writing was from Douglas Adams. I’d never seen anyone before who could so seamlessly work humor into a story without it coming across as corny. And I also have an immense admiration for describing a ship floating in midair the same way bricks don’t. He is the one person I wish I could consistently write like.

4.  Do you write in silence or listen to music? If you listen to music, please share five songs/bands that are on your writer’s playlist?   I always listen to music. Otherwise I find it too easy to get distracted. With music, if I can feel my attention being pulled away from the page I can just stop and listen for a few moments, then go back. I compile a different playlist for each book, and I actually published the “official soundtrack” for Sidekick at my blog at Sungenis.com.

5.  Who is your favorite (fictional) villain of all time?   I was about to say Lucifer from Paradise Lost, but when you get down to it, he’s really the hero of that book. I would probably say Professor Moriarty.

6.  What book(s) are you reading right now?   In the middle of Crashers by Dana Haynes, and about to move on to Paper Towns by John Green. 7.  Please share your favorite line from Sidekick.   “Gee, it took you a full week to start worrying? What friends I’ve got. Remind me to think of you when I’m on fire sometime.”

ABOUT PAB SUNGENIS:      Born in the swamps of Southern New Jersey, Pab Sungenis developed a childhood fascination with cartooning and drew a daily strip for his own amusement for two years before realizing he couldn’t draw. He wound up in broadcasting, worked for numerous stations including WSBU, WOND, WMGM, WSKR, WBNJ, WWBZ, and WKTU. He describes his drawing ability as like that of “a mentally challenged rhinoceros on a Ny-Quil bender”, but thanks to the wonders of photo-manipulation and computer image editing, on February 8, 2006 he found himself creating The New Adventures of Queen Victoria, which has appeared ever since, first on Comicssherpa.com., and now in online syndication with gocomics.com. Pab Sungenis is available for quotes, signings, video or podcast appearances, and all opportunities relative to SIDEKICK: THE MISADVENTURES OF THE NEW SCARLET KNIGHT. 

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16043693-sidekick

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Sidekick-Misadventures-New-Scarlet-Knight/dp/0985029455

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sidekick-pab-sungenis/1113855264?ean=9780985029456

Book Depository: http://www.bookdepository.com/Sidekick-Pab-Sungenis/9780985029456

Pab Sugenis Wesbite: http://sungenis.com

Pab Sungenis Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pabsungenis
Pab Sungenis Twitter: https://twitter.com/sungenis
Pag Sungenis’ New Adventures of Queen Victoria Website: http://www.newadventuresofqueenvictoria.com/

Goodreads Month9Books: http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/67761-month9books
Month9Books Blogger Central: http://month9booksblog.com/blogger-central/
Month9Books Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/month9books
Month9Books Twitter: http://twitter.com/Month9Books
Month9Books Publishing Website: http://www.Month9Books.com  

TOUR SCHEDULE:

March 19 – A Book and a Latte

March 20 – Katie’s Books

March 21 – Comic Book Therapy

March 22 – We Do Write

March 23 – Moosubi Reviews

March 24 – Leaving It All On the Page

March 25 – The Eater of Books

March 26 – Imaginary Reads

March 27 – Proserpine Craving Book Blog

March 28 – Little Lovely Books

March 29 – Passion Find

March 30 – Fantasy Fairy

March 31 – The Book Vortex

April 1 – Rachel’s Book Reviews

April 2 – Jen McConnel

TOUR WIDE GIVEAWAY: Grand prize includes a print copy of SIDEKICK: The Misadventures of the New Scarlet Knight, Kick-Ass DVD, and a Superhero mask set. Grand prize is open to US residents only.   Five ebook copies of SIDEKICK: The Misadventures of the New Scarlet Knight will also be given away, open internationally.   Rafflecopter code:    :

<a id=”rc-d0cd990″ href=”http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/d0cd990/” rel=”nofollow”>a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>

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