Planning Sesh

Image by Clark Tibbs on Unsplash (too much pressure, Clark!!!)

I see that 2025 is off to a not-so-stellar start! Not even thinking of the wildfires in California or the three-ring circus that is the political scene…I’m just noticing that it’s already January 14th, and I still haven’t come up with all my writing goals for the “new” year. The old Elise would have thrown up her hands at this point, said, “Oh, well, too late now!” and returned to her exact same daily yogurt, berries and granola breakfast combo (so much for “diversify breakfast” goal). But new year, new me! I will forge ahead, planning and plotting my latest assault on the freelance writer game. 

 

Here's what I have so far (annotated by the author):

 

72 pitches (Wow, reaching out to editors with ideas for stories 72 times is a lot. Maybe 27? Yeah, that’s more like it.)

 

52% acceptance rate (I actually hit this mark last year, but that might’ve been a fluke. The way I see it, the fewer places I pitch, the higher an acceptance rate would be, no? I mean, if I pitch just one place, and get a “yes”—BINGO. 100%!)

 

Pitch 10 major new outlets (Gotta break out of my rut! But even one new publication would be a victory, so OK. One. And why shoot for The New Yorker? I’ve never written for The Oreland Observer, either! Oh, you say there’s no such newspaper? That is NOT my fault. I’m putting this wonderful, if imaginary, publication on my list. If any of you readers are so inclined, feel free to create The Oreland Observer yourself. I’ll write for you!)

 

My newsletter: Get to 200 subscribers. (I’m at 158 now, need 42 more peeps to sign up. So many peeps! Too noisy. Peep down, I say! Let’s aim for 1-2 more, tops.)

 

This blog: 52 weekly posts (Does that count this one, and the one last week, which are both technically January posts? Or do I start now, and count next week as the first post of ’25? OR do I calculate from this one, but not last week? And what if I do two in one week? Better say just “52 posts." But that’s a weird amount if you aren’t counting weeks, amirite? Maybe 25 posts is a better number, and I can reward myself if I make it to 26.)

 

Apply for writing residency (This is a long-time dream of mine. Yaddo in Saratoga Springs, NY! The MacDowell Colony in Peterborough, NH! There are retreats and residencies everywhere, from the Rocky Mountains to the South of France. All it takes to get into one is talent. And luck. And money, for many of them. But maybe if I start small…I hear there’s a cool, free, talent-optional new residency right here in Oreland! It’s on my street! It’s even in my house! I think I have a shot!) 

 

Looking these over has reminded me: goals are nothing but artificial constructs, with disappointment and failure their regular features. 

 

I've decided to skip ‘em. 

Riverside Cottage, Bibury, UK (where we stayed last Spring. I'd go back there for a writing retreat in a heartbeat. )

Hermit-ically (Un)Sealed

St. A of E (not sure what that skull is doing there)

Having taken numerous personality tests online, I consider myself a true expert on—myself. I am an introverted extrovert (extroverted introvert?) No surprise, given my bipolar nature. I love being with people, for brief periods, after which I crave alone time, for just a bit. Rinse and repeat. I could never be Party Girl 24/7, nor could I be a true lone wolf.

But I’ve always been fascinated by those folks who have retreated from the outside world in favor of a totally solitary existence. Personally, I’d be so sick of my own company after just a few hours that I’d welcome a serial killer into my cave. Obviously, there are many who have felt differently, such as…

 

Saint Anthony of Egypt: (251-356) The first Christian monk, and first of the “Desert Fathers” (cool rock band name, no?), Saint A of E dwelt all by his lonesome, for many decades. Legend has it that ravens brought him his food (he ate only bread and salt). During his solitude, he was tempted many times by Satan. Anthony lived to be 105, which, considering the demonic torments and the bread-only diet, was probably more punishment than treat. 

 

Julian of Norwich: (1342-1412) Julian, a nun and mystic, wrote the famous “Revelations of Divine Love,” (first book written in English by a woman) after her miraculous recovery from the Black Death. She spent the rest of her life alone, in prayer, in a tiny cell attached to a cathedral. The brilliant, compassionate Julian was also a cat lady (sorry, JD Vance!) She was allowed a cat as a pet because—actual quote—“Cows were too big.” No argument here.

 

Johann Wilhelm Stolting, The Hermit of Ardsley NY (1805-1884) An irascible German immigrant, Stolting lived alone in a small, rough-hewn cottage, which nowadays in Westchester County would no doubt fetch at least 3 million bucks. He made his living by selling newspapers and buttons. He hated cities, and most people. Oh, and he slept in a coffin. Always planning ahead, that Johann!

 

More recent examples of hermits include: 

 

Dorothy Molter, “The Root Beer Lady”: a scrappy Minnesotan and former nurse, who sold her homemade root beer to canoeists, and was the only person living in the huge Boundary Waters Canoeing Area for the last 38 years of her life. 

 

Tom Wooldridge, The Leopard Man (Scotland): not only did this former military officer live in isolation on the Isle of Skye, he was known as the “most tattooed man in the world,” with 90% of his body adorned with leopard-like spots. Thus decorated, Tom was able to scare the wild leopards away from Scotland (I just made that last part up).

 

And finally, Herman’s: these musical lads were not actual Hermits, but had a cool rock band name (though not as cool as Desert Fathers). 

As society becomes ever more shunnable, I foresee a big jump in hermit numbers. Not for me, but maybe…

 

Elise Seyfried, The Hermit of Barnes and Noble?

 

That could work.

Books on My Kindle I Never Got Around to Reading

Hangin' with Baby New Year

As Baby New Year (or is that Dimitri?) arrives, revealing the Joys (or Fresh Horrors) of 2025, I take this opportunity to share some opinions about my unread Kindle purchases—and there have been several (OK, many) over the past few years. Now, “not read” does NOT mean “disliked." Don’t let me discourage you from reading any of these. You may love these books. I may too, if I ever do read them. 

RULES OF CIVILITY: I really loved Amor Towles’ A Gentleman in Moscow. This sounds great too, a sparkling portrait of New York City society in the 1930s. I haven’t even started it. Why? I guess rules (of civility) are made to be broken? 

 

FIVE-PART INVENTION: Author (and classical musician) Andrea Buchanan penned this novel about a pianist who, after a nervous breakdown, has her instrument taken away. I have read 1% of this book so far, and am very “nervous” about my poor progress.

 

IONA IVERSON’S RULES FOR COMMUTING: Wonderful escapist read, guaranteed to cheer me and make me smile (according to the reviews)? I guess I’m terrified that it will do neither—what will that say about ME? On my Summer To-Read list for the past two years, destined for a threepeat this summer.

 

LESSONS IN CHEMISTRY: I actually got several chapters into this one before I gave up, and while I THINK I was enjoying it, I have zero memory of plot or characters. I blame my ADHD, not author Bonnie Garmus’ literary abilities. Ugh.

 

DEMON COPPERHEAD: I adored Barbara Kingsolver’s other novels. I even loved David Copperfield by Dickens, upon which this is patterned. The problem? Demon is 556 pages long. I need to pack this in my suitcase when I go on a very lengthy, very silent retreat somewhere. Someday. Possibly. 

 

NORTH WOODS: A “sweeping saga,” North Woods is the story of a New England house, told through generations of its inhabitants. Something is stopping me from “opening the door” to this one. Perhaps I’m thinking of my own very old house, and my fervent hope that it will NEVER have a chance to tell about MY personal life within its walls. 

 

And then there’s “miscellaneous,” 

 

Why oh why did I purchase...

FAST, FEAST, REPEAT (the skinny on intermittent fasting)? Quite obviously I have not yet availed myself of its life-changing wisdom. 

MOONWALKING WITH EINSTEIN  a lighthearted look at developing an amazing memory (Maybe I should read this one, THEN Lessons in Chemistry.) 

YOUR FIRST 1000 COPIES another perky self-helper, how to use the internet to sell a gazillion books. 

If only I’d bothered to read these super volumes, I’d be a svelte bestselling author by now, with total recall!

 

That settles it! Before I spend Dime One on any more Kindle titles, I will slog through every single e-book I already own! I will emerge, enlightened and entertained, in the Spring of 2025! Hooray!

 

Note: this does NOT apply to my clothing purchases. 

I WILL wear all those dresses. 

Someday. 

Possibly. 

In the Cards

  

Our poor, hungry Santa card holder!

 

It’s holiday card time once again! Since we stopped sending them out years ago (after decades of overkill, complete with original, rhymed updates on Steve, me and each of the kids tucked into every card), I don’t know why I remain surprised (and, truth to tell, just a tad miffed) that our mailbox is a little emptier every December. We are crossed off list after list as the years go by, and nowadays the jolliest card we receive is from our realtor, who sold us our current abode--back in 1989. She annually takes this opportunity to wish us a Merry Christmas, and also to wonder if we’re “ready to sell.”  

 

How DARE friends and fam stop writing greetings to the Oreland Seyfrieds, even knowing there will be zero response for us? Next thing you know, we’ll stop getting thoughtful gifts from people we no longer buy gifts for!! What the heck? Whatever happened to “no strings” generosity, I ask? 

 

But fortunately, even without our Yuletide purchases, the card industry is still thriving. It is offering writers (including moi) a great opportunity. Did you know that most of the major companies (American Greetings, etc.) hire freelancers to pen clever/heartfelt messages for their cards? And the pay per line of text is actually pretty good! So, I’m adding to my Writing Goals for 2025: Pitch Hallmark (“pitch” as in “send a proposal to,” not “pitch” as in “get rid of.”) As I have several other big projects to complete in the next couple of weeks, I’ll need to wait until January to buckle down and submit a few literary gems as my “audition.”

 

But I have begun jotting some ideas in my trusty writer’s notebook, and this is your lucky day! In the beneficent Spirit of Christmas, I have decided to share them with YOU, dear readers!! Enjoy!! (and please don’t spill the beans to Hallmark!)

 

WISHING YOU A BLESSED CHRISTMAS! 

I do not expect a card in return, unless you’re the nice person I always thought you were

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRIEND!

Remember—you’re not quite as old as you look! Or feel!

 

CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR GRADUATION!

And best of luck with that Masters degree in decorative napkin folding

 

TO MY DEAR HUSBAND—HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

I do not expect a card in return. That romantic week in Aruba I’m expecting you to surprise me with, is gift enough

GET WELL SOON!

So you have energy to return to the remorseless, thankless grind of daily life 

 

WELCOME BABY!

Hope your adorable cooing takes Mommy and Daddy’s minds off the exorbitant cost of your education, and their exhausting 24/7 responsibility for your care

 

SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS!

There is a unique grief in the death of the goldfish you won at a carnival last week

 

THINKING OF YOU!

And just hoping, someday, I’ll remember WHY I am

 

ARE YOU READY TO SELL YOUR HOME?

Call me at 1-888-888-000024

…and Happy Holidays!

 

Wish me luck! (Send me a card, if you think of it!)

image by Claire Morgan on Pexels

Fun 'n Frugal Last Minute Gift Ideas!

image by annacpictures on Pixabay

Unlike some of my family members (i.e. Julie) who are truly gifted givers, the kind who take mental notes all year long of the gift-ees preferences, I am foursquare in Camp Clueless. Oh, I know IN GENERAL that Evan would not flip over an illustrated children’s Bible, but maybe there’s one specific, expensive, out-of-print edition he’d just love?  

See what I mean? Forever barking up the wrong Christmas tree, that’s me!

 

Add to my aimless and fruitless mall wanderings? The ever-faster ticking countdown to Yule Morning! 

 

And I know I have company (don’t I? Don’t I?) So, as a public service, I offer you my suggestions for super LMGs (last minute gifts) that won’t, as they say, “break the bank.” 

 

For Baby (Birth-Age 1): How about a subscription to the Pacifier of the Month Club? Or a festive “Pampered Babe” gift of…Pampers? Or just pass along that random toy your older kids used to teethe upon! This is the Golden Age of Childhood, when they will not care, nor ever remember, what you got them!

 

For Children (Ages 2-7): Golden Age is over! Stakes are much higher now, as a poor choice will scar them for LIFE! There’s nothing like the Gift of Your Time and Attention! As long as that Gift involves an ultra-pricey Disney vacay, multiple purchases from Build-a-Bear Workshop/American Girl Store, and enough candy to rot their precious little teeth! Pro Tip—give these presents in the form of “IOUs,” which they are bound to misplace! “Awww, too bad, sweetie, you’ll need the IOU itself to redeem!”

 

For Teens (Age 8-18) Yes, they are teens by age 8 nowadays, so it’s all about permission! Let them stay up until midnight  every day that begins with the letter “G”! Let them drive the family car to take their friends out…to Acme to buy you a gallon of milk (gas fill up is on them!) Give your A-OK to the most violent video game currently in vogue (playable during each month that has 36 days)! YOU’RE THE COOLEST PARENT EVER!

 

For Hubby: How about a beautifully wrapped schedule of the 2025 township trash pickup and electronic waste disposal days? Or maybe surprise him with a few tools that have long been buried in the shed (polish them up!) Like your Baby (Birth-Age 1), That Big Lugnut of yours will never remember that he bought those lugnuts HIMSELF, 20 years ago! 

 

For Teachers: A thoughtful note—“We didn’t buy you yet another coffee mug adorned with apples! You’re welcome!”  

 

For Neighbor Who Always Gives You Homemade Treats in Coffee Mugs Adorned with “I Heart My Neighbor!”: Using some of your Child (Ages 2-7)’s candy stash, refill same coffee mug neighbor just gave you (“What a coincidence! I Heart you too!”), drop off--you’re done!

 

For Self: After all that practical, yet inspired, gifting, you’ll find you have some moolah to spare! How about a Spa Day? A bottle of your favorite perfume? A pair of Louboutins? 

 

Happy, Thrifty Holidays!!

                                                                     They're so YOU!                                                                                                                    photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels

The Intangibles!

One of The Intangibles?

Sounds like a Superhero family!

 

Uh-uh. “Intangibles” are defined as “having no physical existence, unable to be touched or grasped.”

 

Sounds like Casper the Friendly Ghost, then?

 

NO. Well, I mean, kind of. But that’s not where I’m going.

 

Pity. Ghosts are cool.

 

May I go on?

 

Please.

 

Alrighty then. 

 

We all have intangibles in our lives. Love is one, so are happiness, and disappointment, and sorrow. Our emotions are intangible (though they can be linked to actual objects such as engagement rings, and tiny grandkids giving hugs, and teen grandkids not giving hugs anymore, and that empty carton of ice cream.) 

 

Then there are intangibles that we hear about on the news-- cryptocurrency, for example. You might assume it is the money used by ghosts (crypt, get it?) (also see Casper, above). But no, it’s a form of virtual, digital currency traded on blockchain technology. What is “blockchain technology,” you ask?

 

Too complicated for YOU to understand, I’m afraid! 

 

UNESCO (the United Nations Education, Science and Culture Organization) has designated various places on the planet as “World Heritage” sites. These are locales filled with historical significance—Rome, for instance. Stonehenge. Old Town Prague. The Gaudi buildings in Barcelona. We’ve visited several of these special sites, and rarely miss an opportunity to brag about this fact.

 

Well, now I’m learning about an offshoot of these—examples of UNESCO “intangible cultural heritage" sites. The sausage stalls of Vienna (würstelstande) qualify. And they are wonderful…casual spots where one can stand around and stuff one’s face with the best wursts anywhere. But what’s the “intangible” part? Seems it’s the unique lingo that has grown up around them.  A pickle is a “krokodu” (crocodile). A “Sechzehner Blech" (a sixteener tin) is an Ottakringer-brand beer. Ottakring is the name of Vienna's 16th district, where the beer is brewed. One can also order "a Eitrige mit an Bugl" (a purulent with a hump): this is a Käsekrainer sausage with the edge piece of brown bread. It is translated as: a disgusting (pus-filled) thing (with a hump). 

 

I think what I love the most about the Viennese is their delightful sense of humor.

 

Which got me thinking. What is the intangible cultural heritage of Philly, my adopted hometown? Is it our “patois” (the way Philly folk speak, not to be confused with "Pat’s, King of Steaks")? Such a musical dialect! Wooder (water), Left (let--"I left them stay up late"), Jeet ("did you eat?"), Iggles (Eagles, world’s premier football team). Or is it our Mummers Parade? The costumes are tangible for sure, but the custom of wearing very expensive feathered and sequined garb to march in freezing, wet January weather? I guess “stupidity” could be called an intangible!! 

 

I struggled to explain intangibles of faith to Confirmation classes--like the Holy Spirit. The kids didn’t really connect with the images of a dove, or a tongue of fire. But maybe I should’ve described it as “what we feel about the Iggles.” 

 

Filling out the UNESCO application now!

Our favorite wurstelstand in Vienna!