I type, therefore I am

Last night I was lying in bed trying to go to sleep, and for some reason I began to think about my story. I think it had something to do with a conversation I had this weekend with Angie about a story she's writing. Anyway, I was thinking about how I need to rewrite my bad guy. After the first few paragraphs I wrote, I've never been completely satisfied with him. He's just ending up much more bombastic than slyly evil, and I want to strike a slightly darker tone.

These thoughts led me, in some roundabout way I don't even recall, to remember something I read somewhere about writing. It may have been Stephen King's On Writing, but I'm not sure. The thing I remembered was something like, there's something very organic and powerful about the act of physically writing instead of typing. I thought this was a nice idea when I read it, but just not something that will work for me. What struck me most when I was thinking about this last night was that, when I remember my origins of writing stories as a kid, I don't remember physically writing. I remember typing. I remember sitting at the typewriter, pounding out words letter by letter, fitting as many words as possible on one line, whiting out mistakes with this special typewriter white-out. I'm not 100 percent sure what my motivation was for typing, but I wonder if it was because I thought there was something very writerly about typing. Any kid can scribble out a story on a piece of ruled paper, but only a select few are worthy of something as grown up and authorial as typing.

I'd never made this very simple, almost silly connection between my writing roots and my present-day practices. Besides, nowadays my reasons for typing are pretty mundane and practical. I type much faster than I write, and I need to be able to keep up with my thoughts, to get them on the page before they disappear. But now, remembering my origins, I think it's perfectly fitting, and much more organic and powerful, for me to type. How could I do anything else?

Cooking with Kids

We've been watching a lot of the Food Network here lately. Aaron got us started by watching "Guy's Big Bite," and now we're Food Network junkies. We watch shows like "Ace of Cakes," "Throwdown with Bobby Flay," "Iron Chef America" (one of my faves), "30 Minute Meals" with Rachel Ray, and many different varieties of Food Network Challenges (also my faves), among others.

What's really funny about all this is that our kids are really into the Food Network, too. Chloe wrote herself a note to remind her what channel it's on. I can't tell you the number of times my kids have changed the channel away from SpongeBob to watch whatever's on the Food Network. Case in point: I slept in a little today and when I woke up, the kids were in the living room, not watching cartoons, but watching "Giada at Home." They then decided to play with their Moon Sand, and I'm pretty sure they're hosting their own cooking/baking show right now. I'm currently hearing phrases like, "Remember to flour the dough before rolling it out," and "Remember to flour the rolling pin, too." Also, "Bake it, oh, for about 20 to 30 minutes," and, my current favorite, "Let's head on over to Noah to make our drink."

Fire Eating, and other matters of national interest

This is not intended to be a political commentary. But I liked this article by Penn Jillette. Nice allegories, fun to read, and I'm wondering right along with him.