Writings by Diane

When my son was a toddler, about 11 ye ars ago, his favorite show was Thomas the Tank Engine .  He was mesmerized by the colorful, talking trains. The show was somewhat entertaining too—I would smile at the parade of Mr. Conductors—Ringo Starr, Denny Dennison and George Carlin. I knew these men as musicians and a comedian respectively.  Now my son associated them as teeny, tiny men in conductors’ uniforms. My husband and I would search many a store for anything Thomas. I was confused by the lack of merchandise for such a popular children show. However, not a book, a plastic figure nor a fluffy beach towel could be found with cheery Thomas’ image.  We couldn’t understand it—how could there not be any type of Thomas toy for us to buy our son? Back then, there was a significant drought nowadays we are inundated with Thomas gear. It was ironic how we kept running into these items as we were Christmas shopping this year. Of course, our son has no interest in these things now—h...

Last week I had the opportunity to read a chapter of my book to a teen writing group at the Meridian Library .  They were a great bunch of kids, each had their own stories they were working on and sharing.  One teen had even self published a couple of his books. After I read my chapter, there was a question and answer period. One of the questions I was asked was what would I do if I had writer’s block? My answer involved mentioning a famous writer Fran Lebowitz who had writer’s block for 10 years. I had recently seen the Martin Scorsese documentary, Public Speaking, and quickly made the association. However, the young man wasn’t having any of this example. He asked me again very specifically, ”What would you do if you had writer’s block?”   I smiled to myself—why bring up someone else when I have my own opinions?  I gave my scenario of writer’s block. At the beginning of creating a story, it can be exciting and thrilling, as with all new things. However, you may fi...

A couple of weeks ago, the movie Breaking Dawn premiered. I wasn’t going to be first in line to see the movie, though I read the entire series of books.  Yes, I got caught up in the mania, but I wouldn’t consider myself a Twilighter . Rather, I really enjoyed the way Stephenie Meyer wrote. Her development of characters made them memorable and she used a good turn of phrase in many of the pages. As I’ve seen images of the movie premiere, a thought struck me—where is the author in these galas? Of course, a movie has many different and important components—actors, director, set and costume designers. However, in my opinion, this movie could have happened without her. She created these stories, yet she’s not shown on the red carpet. Or at least not in the footage I’ve seen. When my works are made into a movie (yes, I said when , not if!) I would try to get into every camera shot I can!  In my mind’s eye, the actors are on the runway, and there I am, standing next to them. Or, the ...

Remember the commercials for the GPS system Tom Tom? It would depict a driver that was lost. He would turn to the passenger in the car and say their first name twice, asking for directions. Of course, the passenger looked at the driver blankly. The funny thing is, if I run into a traffic jam or road work, I call my husband on my cell phone.  I say “Chris Chris, I’m on the freeway, but it’s backing up. If I get off on Franklin Road, which way can I get to work?” My husband then gives me step by step directions on how to get to work. It always amazes me that he is able to navigate without being there. I basically know only a couple of ways to work, so if I need to take a detour, I’m in a pickle if left to my own resources. Chris figures he’s good with directions because he has always had jobs where driving is essential. He is always the first to find all of the shortcuts around the town we live in. Also, he really enjoys all aspects of driving.  I’ve been with him when he’s deci...

Today my teenage son, Derek, got his first professional haircut. This is a momentous occasion at our house. For years, he didn’t care how his hair looked. When it got completely out of control, Dad would give him a short buzz cut. However, today, with a patient hairstylist, he picked out the style and didn’t resist--he was finally ready. Now, he looks so handsome, much better than the thick bed head he had been sporting!  As I admired the precision cut around his ears and youthful spiky bangs, I remembered his very first haircut. He was two years old and still had his fine baby hair. I worried over the patchiness and corn silk quality of his hair. When he was a baby, this hair looked natural—now it looked completely out of place.    One day, my husband suggested cutting all of Derek’s hair off. That way, it would give the new hair more room to grow. I had heard of this logic before—my father knew fellow workers who would yearly shave their heads and thicker hair would ind...

Today, I was walking through a parking lot behind a woman. The wind hit just right, and I was able to detect she was wearing my favorite perfume, Giorgio of Beverly Hills. The sparkling scent hit my olfactory and I smiled to myself, remembering my first encounter with this perfume. Years ago, I was reading Los Angeles magazine. This magazine held everything trendy and elite of this city. Tucked away in the glossy pages was a sample of Giorgio, accompanied with its advertisement.   As I tore open the flap that held the strip of perfume, I was fascinated with picture the work-of-art bottle. The color scheme was sharp and clean—snowy white and sunny yellow stripes.   Even the handwritten font of Giorgio was classy. I rubbed the perfumed strip on my wrist and sniffed. Immediately, I was smitten—the wonderful blend of floral, spice and musk was perfect. It embodied everything ritzy and glamorous—after all its complete name is Giorgio of Beverly Hills! Suddenly, I asked myself, “Sel...

It seemed surreal to have August 29 marked on my calenda r as going to Channel 7 Midday News, Boise’s NBC affiliate. As the days dwindled down to that fateful Monday, I grew more and more nervous. I couldn’t believe that I was about to do my first television interview about my book!! At 11:30 am my husband, who was responsible for getting me this interview, drove me to the studio.   The day was warm and sunny, wispy clouds against a powder blue sky, my favorite type of weather.   Traffic was moving smoothly and we were well on track to arrive at the designated time for my live interview. I noticed the closer we were getting to our destination, my mouth muscles were tightening. Even as I chit-chatted with Chris, I found it an effort to speak.   This was a bad thing, considering I was on my way to do an interview—and it wasn’t going to be done by hand written notes! I was a little surprised that I was having this harsh nervous reaction. I am a member of Toastmasters Interna...

Yesterday morning as I got out of bed, I gave a little shiver. October was here and the mornings are getting chilly. I noticed my husband quickly grabbing the blankets and pulling them up to his chin. To add to the effect, he let out a huff of contentment. I paused, looking at him in puzzlement—usually I’m the one who’s always complaining of the cold. “I’ve never seen you like this, all bundled up,” I observed only his eyes and forehead were visible under the quilt. “Why are you doing that?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Because I sleep with an international blanket thief!” he announced petulantly. “I was cold all night! You cocooned yourself in all the blankets!” he continued. “I had to go get my old Army poncho liner to cover up!” I thought he was exaggerating, but sure enough, at the foot of the bed was the camouflage poncho liner. How could I possibly be able to wrestle blankets away from him? I thought to myself as I brushed my teeth. He is at least twice my size.   Maybe I get su...

It's amazing how something as mundane as standing in line at the grocery store can offer a life lesson. It happened to me a few weeks ago. I was the fourth person in line at the store and my hands were full. I only went to the store for one thing, peanut butter, so I saw no reason to get a cart. How short sighted of me!   As I shopped, I was reminded that we needed bread to go with the peanut butter. Also, in the same aisle there were tea bags, and I remembered we were getting low on them.   For some reason, tea reminded me of beverages, and I recalled we were almost out of milk. On the way to the back of the store, I saw there was a sale on 12 rolls of bathroom tissue. That was a great buy, so I had to get that. Wow, stores must LOVE customers like me! That’s how I ended up the fourth person in line with 5 items precariously balanced in my arms. The bathroom tissue served as a tray, with the bread, peanut butter and tea bag box sitting on top. The milk I held by the handle. T...

There was a hilarious show called Dr. Katz: Professional Therapist that was on Comedy Central a few years back.   It had a very clever concept: Jonathon Katz played a Bob Newhart-esque psychiatrist and comedians were his “patients”.   His dry humor with quiet delivery was very conducive to the comedians’ uproarious delivery. One of the comedians featured was Louis C K. His routine on the couch consisted of explaining how he is starting to see the same stranger twice.   His conclusion was that God was running out of extras in the movie of his life. To drive home his point, he put on the voice of God (very deep and authoritative) instructing a person to run into Louis when on the bus. However, the man objected, stating he was the jogger that ran by him just today. God’s retort? “Just go! Put on a hat, I don’t care!” (clip of the episode below, Bees and SIDS, Minutes 8:47 through 9:15) This concept of “movie extras” in my life stuck with me. After watching this particular ep...

This day being the 10 th anniversary of 9/11 brings back vivid memories for me. We were living in Las Vegas, and on that fateful morning I was driving my son, who was three at the time, to his grandma's on my way to work. I was about to turn onto the Desert Inn Flyover, which is a bridge that goes over the Las Vegas Strip. I had turned on my favorite radio station and noticed that they were not playing music. The DJs’ voices were not their usual upbeat and conversational tones. I turned up the volume, and the morning DJ was talking about the latest news bulletin. He said it was originally reported that the airplane that had crashed into the first World Trade Center Tower in New York City was a tragic accident. Now, there was the report that another plane had purposely flown into the second tower. I was stunned, my mind was reeling.   What were they talking about? What was going on in New York this morning? As if to answer my questions, the local radio station turned over the airwa...

“What in the world is that doing here?” Mimosa asked, his whiskers twitching. He, Stanley and Pepper sat together on the living room floor. They were all staring at the creature curled on the floor next to the couch. Its black fur almost blended into the dark brown couch behind it.                 “From what I can gather, that puppy is just sitting there,” Stanley answered, leaping up on top of the wooden coffee table for an observational, non-committal look from above.                   The puppy looked up at Stanley with her light brown eyes rimmed with blue. She opened her mouth and let her tongue hang out in greeting.                 “Wow! Is this all it can do?” Mimosa groaned, joining Stanley on the coffee table. “Stick its tongue out?”    ...

I heard the Gilbert O’Sullivan’s song Alone Again Naturally many times growing up. The structure of the song is deceivingly interesting. The song lures you with the singer’s unusual voice; its simple melody has a sing-song quality that makes it easy to hum after hearing it for the first time. Though I’m familiar with the song, it is definitely not one of my personal favorites. It’s a song that I consider to be very depressing, though every time I heard it was at the tail end of the song.   I wondered why its focus was on his parents dying.     A few years later, I heard this song again and it was at the very beginning. At this time, I was pregnant with my son and my husband was driving us to a lunch meeting with another couple. I decided to listen to this song all the way through, and turned up the volume. This was a big mistake when I clearly heard the first refrain. It involves the singer being rejected by his intended bride at their wedding and his matter of fact que...

When my son was 3 years old, he was learning his ABC’s.   To keep these lessons from getting boring, (honestly, how many times can you say A is for apple without stifling a yawn?)I used real life examples in my teachings. Any time I found printed words, I would point out the letters to him and he would identify them.   I wanted to let my son know that letters are everywhere, not just confined to his picture books. One day, during his bath time, I found another opportunity for a letter lesson. On our bathtub, the faucets were installed in the wall and were marked H and C.   I pointed to the H and asked him what letter that was.   He replied, “H”, as he splashed the water about him. With a broad smile, I said, “Good! H stands for hot.   Now, what is this letter?”   I pointed to the faucet on the right.   Today, however, the faucet was turned so the C looked different.   He looked at it intently, beads of water trickling down his face. He answere...

If you visit my website, you can now read the first chapter of my book for free! Please feel free to click on its link below: website All I ask is please leave me a comment. Even to just say "hello" so I know that some people are reading it! Thanks everyone, and I'll talk with you later!! Diane

Do you judge a book by its cover? In other words, do you make up your mind about a person by their appearance? I must admit, I used to think this way. In one of my previous employments, when we interviewed someone for temporary office work, they were immediately categorized as front or back office, depending solely on how they were dressed and presented themselves. I didn’t give this harsh method of classification a second thought until something happened to me a few years ago. I was at Meadows Mall in Las Vegas with my husband Chris and our son. Derek was a baby at the time and we took turns pushing his stroller through the many walkways. I enjoyed the window shopping, Chris not so much and Derek was amusing himself by kicking his legs about. It was in the morning and the mall wasn’t too crowded.   Some spots of the mall were downright deserted.     As we were walking down a long hallway, we caught sight of a guy following us. His jeans were torn, chains were dangling fr...

Oh coupon, I found in the bottom of my purse Promising $1 off an item in my cart Just before going to the checkout I gaze upon the coupon Aghast! Its expiration date is the day before yesterday! Fie! I crumple up the now worthless piece of paper Fellow shoppers, do not stare at me in puzzlement Feel my pain!

This morning a memory washed over me, a vital turning point in my life. It took me back to high school junior year. I was on the phone with my best friend and we were talking about the preparation for our Confirmation.   We were to perform 20 hours of volunteer work, which broke down to 4 hours a week for 5 weeks.   Her mother had found us volunteer work.   We weren’t sure what the volunteer work was going to be, only of the location. We arrived at a historical house in Santa Monica CA. Once inside, it became clear was our work was going to be—the house was in the middle of restoration. The woman who owned it was converting it to a museum and needed volunteers to paint the walls. I felt my stomach drop—I had no idea how to paint, other than my finger and toenails. Our stunned and panicked look must have been her clue, because she gave us a crash course on how to apply paint to a wall with a paint roller. For the next couple of hours we painted. I’m here to tell you it was...

Yesterday, I was sitting at Church and I became aware of a pattern, namely in the congregation’s clothing. Perhaps this wasn’t the best time to be debating why sometimes we match in what we wear. My thoughts should be on a more spiritual level.  Then again, maybe it’s not so bad—after all what I was pondering involved a form of harmony and unity.  Okay, I admit that may be a bit much, but what was going on around me got me thinking.  I was wearing a dark purple blouse. The woman’s shirt in front of me was of a lighter shade. Lastly, the woman before her had on an even paler version of lavender.  Then, I scanned the room and began to see clusters of colors. On the left side, people were wearing variations of turquoise and on the right, shades of green were abundant. Coincidence, or is there some underlying force that caused people wearing the same shade of colors to sit together? There are times at my work when I’ll run into other women that are wearing the same color...

Back in April, I posted a blog called Lavender Memories, where I wrote about looking forward to the reopening of Lavender Acres at 2000 N McDermott Rd. A couple of weeks ago, I was thrilled to receive a postcard from them, announcing they were open for the months of June and July. I was out there today, enjoying the fragrance of all the different types of lavender. The owner, Donna, is so sweet—she makes everyone feel welcome the moment you step on the farm. Also, she is very knowledgeable about lavenders. She leads a tour of their 80 varieties of plants and I learned so much. For instance: Lavender is part of the mint family. There are 300 different types of lavender Lavenders have square stems They also have a quaint gift shop that sells lavender lemon shortbread, cookbooks, and lotions. If you didn’t think you could eat lavender and enjoy it, you will definitely change your mind when you sample lavender lemonade and iced tea. Also, conversations out there start up ...

Fountains are my favorite type of fireworks, as well as my family’s. They come in tall tubes with dazzling names like Sparkling Wonder or Spinning Panda. Once the fuse is lit, the tower explodes with a mini light show of random colors, sparks and whistles. Since I am so budget conscious (feel free to substitute the word cheap) my biggest beef is spending the money on items that will eventually go up in smoke.    My husband constantly reminds me it’s only once a year and have a little fun.   So, we compromise and buy them on sale. Last year, we thought we hit a pretty good deal. Normally for ten fountains, the cost is around $40-$50. However, we found a bag of small fountains at the store for $5! They were cone-shaped and named TNT, not that exotic a name. We figured since they were bargains, they would appear a little different, but would still do the trick. On the evening of the 4 th , my husband lined up the ten fountains on the street in front of our house. Our son an...

I’m reminded of my mother’s favorite word, which is “spiral”. When I asked her why that particular word, she answered it was the image of the word that sparked her attention. The word described what it is, and she liked the way it sounds.   To better illustrate, as she said the word spiral, she drew a flowing, curling ribbon in the air.   That got me to thinking, what is my favorite word?   Actually, two words pop to mind—the first one is “brilliant”. This word brings up memories of when I was about 11 years old and my cousin John from Scotland came to visit us. He would say “brilliant” as an adjective, which I had never heard used that way before. I only knew brilliant to describe light’s intensity. It was amazing to me to hear it used as a synonym for excellent, awesome or terrific. When I think of this word, I can still hear his Scottish brogue. My other favorite word is a Spanish word lástima . This word takes me back to when I worked for a subcontractor and was speak...

Stanley hopped onto the back of the plush chair next to the window. He lay down on his belly, settling in the comfort of the extra padding. He was ready for his mid afternoon nap. He had just eaten and drank some water, so his schedule had now become wide-open. He let his tiredness close his amber eyes and he began to drift off to sleep. “Get out of my way, fatty boombalate!” Jinx cried out. He divebombed next to Stanley, who woke up with a start. “What did you call me?” Stanley asked, raising his head from his slumber. “Doesn't matter, I want the window seat!” Jinx snapped, swatting Stanley on his gray ear. Stanley was about to return in kind, when he spied the Woman walking up to them with a spray bottle full of ice cold water. Since Jinx’s back was toward her, he couldn't see her rapid approach. Quite nimbly, Stanley relinquished his perch, and trotted off to the sliding glass door. “Yeah, you better run!” Jinx crowed.   Suddenly, he felt an icy cold sensation against his ...

              Isn't it amazing you can meet someone and find something about his/her attitude and outlook in life that has a profound impact on you? That happened to me. I met Valerie over 20 years ago at the University of Nevada Las Vegas, and I am still gleaning lessons from our relatively short meeting. At that time, I was attending a mathematics class for a semester. The teacher was telling us the rules of his classroom. One of the stipulations was no hats. He looked up from his podium and pointed to a girl with a baseball cap. Her ponytail was cascading out of the back of the cap. He remarked he wouldn’t ask her to remove her cap since her hair was styled around it, but please not to wear it again. Of course, at that moment, everyone looked towards her. If that was me, I would be flushed with embarrassment, glaring at the teacher for pointing me out. However, her expression was calm and collected. She smiled and nodded she would not wear...

I’ve lived in big cities all my life, so small towns are so foreign to me. Any town that doesn’t have a shopping mall boggles my mind! How do people survive?! My husband, on the other hand, was born in Darbyville, OH. At the time, the population was less than 100 people. He would joke that they would roll up the streets when the sun went down. He said this affectionately, for he said nothing beats living in a small town.   At this remark, I would look at him as if he grew another head. Early in our marriage, he talked me into going on a camping trip. I have to admit, I was not thrilled at the prospect of spending a couple of days in a tent. Driving out of Las Vegas, we came across a small town named Cottonwood Cove, NV.   We spied the little restaurant to get some breakfast. I recall the restaurant was small, and clean, with local people milling around the counter. The atmosphere was relaxed and a feeling of down-home permeated through the walls. The locals were in conversatio...

Jeffery Deaver is one of my favorite authors. If I’m in the mood for a great crime drama, full of more twists and turns than a roller coaster, I pick up one of his books. However, he is not my favorite author just for his writing. A few years ago, I had come across a Reader’s Digest Condensed Book. It consisted of two books that were edited and complied into one volume. One of these books was Jeffery Deaver’s The Stone Monkey. For the life of me, I cannot recall the other book, obviously, it did not make such an impact with me.  I had never heard of Jeffery Deaver before I read The Stone Monkey. However, from the first chapter, I was intrigued. This is my rule of thumb with books—if I’m not hooked by the first chapter, I stop reading it. The characters were vivid, the mystery was intense.  The grittiness and violence of the book was toned down (it was, after all, a condensed book), but the basic story was strong. It held me captive from beginning to end. The book resonated wi...

Isn’t it amazing how a chance meeting will make you have a flashback on an incident in your life? This sort of thing happened to me one evening. I was out with my husband and son when my husband got a maintenance call at one of the chain of convenience stores that he works for.   He drove out to the call and left our son and me in our mini-van.   He proceeded into the store to fix the technical problems they were having.               My son and I decided to pass the time by using his pack of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards as a makeshift memory game.    We were having fun, a good mother and son bonding moment.   He was getting a kick out of how I was stumbling on the characters names that he knew by heart. I then noticed out of the corner of my eye a woman coming our way from the parking lot.   She stopped at the driver’s window that was partially down.    For some reason, I just knew what she was up to...

My earliest memories of my grandmother are of her crocheting. She would make intricate, delicate doilies and table covers. I was fascinated how she was able to wield the slender crochet hook and create these lacey items. My mother also crochets; her specialties are afghans, and sweaters.   I figured I would never carry on the tradition of creating with yarn—this was based on my attempt at knitting. I only knitted one item, a lavender scarf that started being about six inches wide and ended up doubling its width. How I did that, I will never know! Then years later, at work I saw a co-worker by the name of Sophie crocheting. I remarked to her I could never do that. She responded that was nonsense, and offered to teach me.   During our lunch breaks, my fumbling fingers tried to get used to working with the crochet hook. Sophie was always encouraging and patient. Eventually, I was able to produce stitches that resembled something other than a large knot. Once I was able to maneuve...

One of my favorite authors is Dr. Leo Buscaglia. However, it wasn’t always that way. I remember when I was pre-teen, my mother watching The Phil Donahue. His guest was Dr. Leo Buscaglia, who taught a class on Love, a first of its kind, at USC. My mother had read many of his books and was an avid fan.   As I watched the show, I was puzzled by him. Here was this man talking passionately about how we all need to show we love each other, both strangers and family. He had walked through the streets of Chicago (where the Donahue show was filmed) wearing a button that said something to the effect “Hugs for free.”   I was positive he would be avoided like the plague in such a big city. To my surprise, he regaled how many people stopped him in the street to give him a hug. He couldn’t contain his joy, his arms flapping about, looking like he would burst through the TV screen. Frankly, I was embarrassed by him. I shook my head, dismissing him as a kooky guy.     ...

I wrote Eye of Leomander back when I was 13 years old. My father was my editor and my mother was my proof-reader. Throughout the years, I would take it out of the drawer and revised it, hoping one day the opportunity would come along to publish it. When I got married 10 years later, my husband read the manuscript and thought it was great. He urged me to publish it. So, I sent out query letters to many publishers, but received no responses. I think that was worse than receiving rejections--at least I would know they read the letter and the sample chapters! I got discouraged and stopped. A few years later, after our son was born, I tried again with the query letters, and heard nothing back. My husband had suggested subsidiary publishing, but that was way out of our price range. I never gave up my dream to publish this book--I just didn't know how to do it. Then, last year, I saw an advertisement in the window of the dry cleaners. It read at the top "Attention Writers". ...

I was watching Conan O’Brien a few nights ago. The nice thing about Mountain Standard time is his show is on at a decent hour for a “school night”! During his monologue, a joke fell flat. Instead of cringing at the dead air, he reveled in it, making his “failure” into a laugh-fest.   He is not the only host to have a joke fizzle out.  Johnny Carson of the Tonight Show would have dead spots in his monologue. You actually looked forward to the failed jokes to see Johnny’s reaction to the audience’s groans. The “bomb” takes a life of its own, and we the audience quickly forget the bad joke and laugh at the new one.   Both of these great late night talk show hosts made me realize something—when something doesn’t go right, you can bounce back. It depends on your reaction to it.   In the example of a failed joke, they never brood over it—they accept it, turn it around and move on. What a wonderful life lesson! The next time I find myself in a disappointing situation, I wil...