J. H. Authors

One Woman. Three Names. Many Books.

jhauthors

How I Think

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I renamed my blog. Again. I spend a lot of time considering the “art” in my life. Theatre.
Books. TV. Movies. Project Runway. The quest for comfortable yet stylish shoes.
Good food. Beautiful design. The search for the perfect purse.  I am not a critic, though I have opinions and
I share them. Instead of having conversations with my small circle (or myself)
I have decided to blog about things that contribute to what I consider the
art in my life. You may or may not agree about whether something qualifies, but
that’s fine. And sort of the point.

Art feeds passion and passion feeds our soul. “Like” or
“hate” aren’t relevant. So acknowledging something that contributes to the
texture of my life is a noble pursuit. I realize that this may sound
pretentious, but I try to keep a sense of humor about my thoughts, and my life.

It may work or not work, but I hope that all will be worth consideration.
I am relentlessly optimistic, and I admire passion above all else. I have high
hopes for this year, and this blog.

To Kindle or Wait? That is the question…

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Throughout December I had cause to haul home several hundred pages of text most nights. Student's papers. Plays. Articles. One day it occurred to me that a eReader would help. Till then I hadn't really seen the point, because of the limitations. Not being able to share books with others. The cost of the reader itself. But when I realized that I could put PDFs on an eReader, the wheels began to turn. And then when I wanted a specific title that wasn't at the bookstore, they turned some more.

I love technology, but usually wait until the bugs have been worked out. I read the rumors of an Apple eReader, and hope that they are true. But then…version 1. The waiting list. The bugs. The initial cost.

And then there's the Kindle. Version 2. Amazon. The size. The number of books it holds. The free Jane Austen books. (Another New Year's resolution, reading all the Austen books. Will be posting more about that.) I am planning a long trip in March, and would love to have a lot of books to chose from without the suitcase room being taken up. Is that enough to justify it?

The fact that I am even writing this down tells me I am wavering. Any thoughts?

Happy New Year

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Happy 2010! Twenty-Ten, or so I've been corrected. We missed the "aughts" of the last century, and got in the habit of two thousand and year. Twenty Ten is a little easier. And I am thrilled about the turn into a new decade. Feels fresh.

My blogging here has been random, but it is the time for resolutions, so here is mine. I am going to be better about putting my stuff up there. My stuff being my thoughts on what I've been reading, what I have seen (theatre, movies, TV) and what I think. Likely I will be mostly positive, but when I have thoughts, and I do, I will voice them. After all, this is the point of a blog.

And I am going to focus more on the "art" part of my life for this reason–I need to give voice to the importance of books, live theater, film and some TV in my life. In our world, and with this economy, art is seen by some as superfluous. And next to food and shelter, it is hard to justify the expense (on all levels). Except. Except that art feeds the soul. And nourishes a society. And gives life a depth of color and clarity that makes it worth living. And that is important.

I am post post modern. I get the joke, but also am tired of the irony.
I long for authentic experiences, whether they are on the page, on the
stage, in the museum, or on the screen (large or small).

Lest you think that I am a culture snob, let me assure you, my tastes vary. Greatly. I love Jane Austen. But I adore mysteries. Particularly cozies and traditional mysteries. I love big, bold musicals. But I also love edgy theatre companies. And rethinking classics.

Concern about "who cares?" is gone. I care, and I blog. You may not, but I still hope you come back and visit.

Happy 2010, dear reader. Lets chat.

The Day After

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Though I intended to write last week, the mixed emotions and nuttiness of work precluded that. A quick recap of the week. Monday I went to the doctors who did some moving, poking and prodding of my knees. Long story short, he told me to ice and take ibuprofen, and then reffered me for some PT for my knees. He asked how long my longest run had been, and I told him 12 miles. He said "you can do this". And so I changed from "I can't" to wrapping my brain around doing the race.

Had I to do it over again, I probably would have picked a less formidable half marathon to start. BAA was great (people were great, etc), but they are pretty clear about the course closing after 2.5 hours, and 1/5 of the people who signed up don't go. I wonder if some of them panic. I know I did.

Saturday was between Zen and panic. But I was in. Picked up my bib number. Put the D-ring on my shoe. Laid out my outfit. Reread the "It's all about the Medal" chapter in MARATHONING FOR MORTALS. And got to the place where I realized that, duh, I needed to enjoy this as much I as could. Why was I doing it otherwise?

I am still processing the race, but two thoughts. First, it was harder than I thougJulie Half Marathon 5ht it would be. And I thought It would be pretty hard.

Second, I did it. I freaking ran a half marathon. It took me a little over 3 hours, but I started and finished.

As a friend said last night, I can never again say that I can't do something unless I try. And I will keep trying. The tangible goal of a half marathon helped so much. I am going to keep doing shorter runs this winter, and then set another goal for next season. Maybe a sprint tri?

Now to apply all of these lessons to my manuscript and desired writing life. Thing is, after yesterday I think I can do it.

 

T-6

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I am scheduled to run my half marathon on Sunday, October 11. I am a physical and emotional wreck. Apparently, from what I've been told, this is normal. See, before you run a long race you cut down on your runs. It is called a taper. It is a time for rest and recovery in order to allow your body to prepare. And they say that the taper is a time where emotions run high, aches and pains come to the surface, etc. All true. In fact I am going to the doctor this AM to talk through "is this normal knee pain or not?". I suspect it may be IT band tightness–one of the assistant trainers on my half marathon team suggested a foam roller, which I got last night. A $20 torture device for self massage.

Now, a part of me is worried that I won't be able to run on Sunday. Another part of me hopes I can't. Fear is raising its ugly head, and this is the week to get my head in the game. Because so much of this is a mental game.

I write. I am not published, though it is a goal.  Two reasons I have been able to keep training for this half marathon are the support of my BostonFit group, and the calendar goal. I have joined a Goal for Guppies group, hoping for (and getting) the group support. But the calendar goal isn't there. It is up to me. And there is the problem. Though it is a dream, I do not do all the work to make the dream come true.

Maybe this week, and this race (no matter what happens) will help me figure this disconnect out. And fix it.

There are likely to be a flurry of posts this week as I prepare for this run. And try to get my head in the game.

Who is that old broad?

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Took a Chi Running class on Saturday. The thought was to
learn a technique that will help alleviate injury possibilities. A good
seminar, but again humbling. Not because of the Chi Running, but because of the
technology.

I was one of three students. The other two were guys—one of
whom ran a 5K in 18 minutes. I would be thrilled with a time twice that. We
were filmed at the beginning, middle and end of the day for progress reports.

Watching the film at the end of the day, I was struck. I own
that spandex isn’t my best fashion option (though crucial for chub rub
prevention). Makeup before a run isn’t a great idea, so I go bare faced. I was
prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for is watching an old lady mince
along. And that’s what I saw. Arms out of shape (Michelle Obama has raised the
bar on that front, hasn’t she?), hunched over taking small graceless steps. I
am so afraid of getting injured I don’t risk getting injured. I play it safe.
Talk about life metaphors.

I keep saying that my goal is to finish this race. But let’s
face it—I could walk the 13.1 miles. Adding yoga, strength training to my
training. Also adding a time goal of around 3 hours. I need to get my sexy
back. I need to stand up straight, run and find the joy.