Writings by Diane

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in a waiting room, where a TV played tranquil nature scenes. Flowing images of springtime meadows filled with colorful wildflowers and classical music playing in the background.  Next on the loop was a babbling brook, cobblestones being washed by the sparkling stream. After watching it for a few minutes, I found myself settling into a peaceful state of mind. Suddenly, the scene changed to a wintry avalanche. My relaxation was jarred and I stared in disbelief at the screen. Why would the makers of this video choose such a destructive element to be nestled into these comforting scenes of nature? What would be next—a dazzling volcano? The dancing waters of a tsunami? As I puzzled over this scene, I recognized the accompanying music. It was from the Overture from the opera Carmen . Hearing it reminded me of my grade school class of Music Appreciation, my least favorite.   I didn’t care for the teacher, nor did I like any of the boring, dul...

Last night, I turned on Headline News. As I watched the program, the news scroll below caught my eye. It read “Houston sold over 170 million albums….”  I recognized it was referring to Whitney Houston. I thought this was an odd news item. Why would they mention this fact about Whitney Houston? Didn’t everyone know she sold countless albums with her powerful voice? Then I saw in the caption before it “Breaking news.”  Immediately, I felt my stomach sink, preparing for some bad news. Sure enough, the next line appeared “Whitney Houston found dead in Beverly Hilton Hotel room, she was 48 years old.” As I watched the newscast, I felt very sorry for the family she left behind, especially her daughter. I found this news unbelievable and unreal, no matter how many glamorous images of Whitney in happier days appeared on the screen and the anchor man’s voice giving the up to the minute details.  As they played clips of her songs, I realized how her songs were like the soun...

Last week my son was so upset with the local meteorologists. They had foretold that a couple of weeks ago there could possibly be a snow storm that would mean schools would be closed in the Treasure Valley. The snow storm did arrive on Wednesday morning, but the timing was off. They had predicted the snow would arrive extremely early morning. Even though it was “storming chainsaws” (my son’s creative description of the 5 inches of snow that piled up in a matter of a couple of hours) a snow day wasn’t declared since it didn’t start until AFTER the kids were in school. When he came home that day, he asked quite indignantly why bother listening to the weather reports?  I rarely watched the weather reports until we moved to Idaho. When we lived in Las Vegas, it was either hot or cold. We only changed our windshield wipers when the sun dried them out to shreds. Here in Idaho, there is actual change in seasons. To be prepared, I started watching the weather reports religiously....

Have you read a book that affected you? I remember a few years back a co-worker had this glossy book at her desk. I looked at its cover, which I found curious. It depicted a calming beach scene with a shark fin prominently in the ocean distance. The novelty of this book was it contained sayings that at first appear positive, for instance “If at first you don’t succeed…” and end it with negative words “…don’t waste your energy trying again.” As I flipped through the pages, I found the sayings amusing, clever and stinging. She let me borrow it so I could read it cover to cover. When I took it home and read a few pages, I began to feel an emotionally heaviness fall upon me. Generally speaking, I see myself as an optimist—I try not to let too many things get me down. However,  after reading a few pages of this book, a dark cloud of depression loomed over me. I decided to quit reading the book—it wasn’t like I was under any obligation to finish it! The very next day, I gla...

A couple of weeks ago, I threw my back out. The sad part is, I wasn't doing something very strenuous. It happened when I was putting my socks on. To put this in perspective and save myself embarrassment,  I’ve always had lower back troubles my adult life. A few years ago, I decided to do something about it, and I went into physical therapy. I was given therapeutic exercises to strengthen my core. For a while, I was religious about taking a few minutes a day to perform them. Silly me, I forgot the reason I was feeling so good was completely due to these daily exercises!  Then, over the holidays, my body rebelled and my back locked up, painfully reminding me what I did wrong.  It’s terrible when your body won’t respond and in constant pain. These past two weeks, I’ve had to completely modify my usual routine in order to heal. Even a simple task like getting a glass of water was a torturous ordeal. It’s times like these when you really appreciate your family. My h...

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...