Florida Mermaid Musings

On my recent trip to St. Augustine I attended the 13th Annual Gamble Rogers Festival at the St. Johns County Fairgrounds. Gamble Rogers was a legendary singer/songwriter/storyteller who inspired folk singers and storytellers across the country. In 1991 he died a tragic death attempting to rescue a drowning man in the surf. Many mourned his passing, and every year his followers and devotees gather to honor his memory. I could not think of any place on earth I'd rather be than the fairgrounds on a gorgeous Sunday morning. I arrived early; the grass was still wet with dew. Pickers and storytellers were drinking their morning coffee, vendors were setting up tents to sell handmade jewelry and musical instruments, and the smell of funnel cakes mixed with the sweet aroma of freshly cut grass. Folding chairs were set up to face the stage in the Baby Grand Theater, a nod to one of the fictional locales in Rogers' Oklawaha County. (The Baby Grand Theater was a cracked concrete sla...

I proofread legal transcripts for a living. I read depositions, trials, meetings, and presuit examinations. I freelance for 15 court reporters, the majority in the Central Florida area. The depositions often have an interpreter present, and the cases involve Haitians staging car accidents or illegal Mexicans who get injured on the job at Disney. Before this job I never knew that people actually make a career out of suing people. The claimant who falls down in Publix often has previous suits under their belt: A fender-bender where they suffered whiplash, several workers' comp injuries, maybe an EEOC complaint for age/race/sex (pick one) discrimination. And then there are the second- and third-generation welfare queens who truly believe their Social Security disability, Section 8 housing, and food stamps are an entitlement. In one example a young mother of several children (all by different fathers) was asked if she received child support for any of her children. She answered...

Last night I caught myself thinking I would be happy only if... What?! I've been a little blue lately. Worried about finances, feeling lonely, being blocked in my writing, and just overall feeling lethargic and useless. I had to marvel at the selfishness of that thought, I would be happy only if... Not too many years ago I was sleeping on the floor in a rented room. I couldn't afford a bed; all I had was a car and two jobs. I remember being happy during that time. When we moved into our new house the dryer didn't work and the punch work wasn't finished; drywall dust coated the clothes that were hanging all over the house to dry. I was happy, ecstatic even, to be in this little house. My happiest childhood memory is of camping out in the forest and plunging into a cool green lake. Not the trips to Disney World; those memories don't even come close. I decided to make a list of the things that make me happy now. The spectacular sunsets over Lake Harris that...

I recently visited the wonderful, historic city of St. Augustine, Florida and found myself with an entire day to myself. I was completely alone in a relatively unfamiliar place with no obligation to anyone or anything. Free day! I began the day eating breakfast in the little courtyard of the bed and breakfast, watching the Spanish soldiers arrive for duty at the old Spanish Museum. They glided up the cobblestone street in their white period costumes and I wondered if they were the band of ghosts rumored to haunt the area. In the early morning hours I had St. George Street mostly to myself. I decided to head for the Lightner Museum, a place I hadn't visited since grade school. I stopped to enjoy the solitude of the courtyard and to admire the gardenia tree (yes, a tree!) and the old coquina bridge over the koi pond. The museum was an adventure; I began at the third-floor ballroom and made my way back down. I enjoyed every part of the museum except for the Turkish baths. The...

Sweeping my kitchen today I had another insight. (Maybe I don't need showers after all?) The outline of my book is not much different that hundreds of other books I've read. What can I do to make readers want to read the story; what can I do to make my characters human? One of the things a would-be writer should do is read books in the genre they are attempting to write about. As I moved on to sweep the bathroom I thought about my favorite authors and the books I really love to read. Richard Laymon is a horror writer who crosses all boundaries and makes me cringe in fright. I often come away from his books feeling disgusted, but I can't wait to read the next one. Another favorite author is James Lee Burke; different genre but he is a genius with the English language. He plops me down in the swamps of Louisiana and takes me on a wild ride with characters I either love or hate. I often feel emotionally exhausted after reading one of Burke's novels. It occurred ...

Water is my thing. I want to be a mermaid in my next life. I love to light a bunch of candles and relax in a bubblebath, reading a book and sipping wine. The other night I was so in to a book I soaked for three hours! I emerged wrinkled and pink but happily relaxed. I never gave showers much credit till I realized I was getting inspiration for stories and plot ideas when standing under the waterfall in my shower. I have always "spaced out" when taking a shower, getting so lost in thought I would sometimes emerge without rinsing the conditioner from my hair or maybe shaving one leg and forgetting the other. Fairly often I find myself jumping back in to finish the job. Since embarking on my journey as a writer I no longer dismiss shower time as lost time. I was washing my hair when the idea for my flash fiction story "Southern Holiday" came to me. Another day and another shower I was inspired with the rough plot for my novel that is my current work in progress...

Why is soul mate two words? Shouldn't it be one? I was flipping through my bible this morning -- "One Word, Two Words, Hyphenated?" -- and soul mate jumped out at me. I think I will make an executive decision and change it hereafter to one -- soulmate . Doesn't that look better? Do you remember the mazes for little kids with more than one path that led to the same endpoint? I can't help but wonder if our lives are that way. I divorced my husband but then remarried him two years later; if we would have stayed married would I still be in this same house in this same town wearing these same fuzzy slippers right now? Or would I still be stuck in Orlando, miserable and lonely? It's interesting to reflect back on your life and wonder if I had only followed that path, if I had only taken that job, if I had only gone back to school...would it even matter? Maybe we are predestined to arrive at certain key points in our lives no matter what path we choose to get...

Do you ever stop and think how you wound up in the exact spot you're in right this second? I think about it often and marvel at how the choices we make in life steer us in directions we would never dream of. I wanted nothing more than to be a singer. I tried it and sang in a couple of bands but I had no confidence. My voice was passable enough but I was painfully shy. (Speculation as to why I'll save for another day.) Instead I hung around bands and musicians and worked jobs that started out as interesting but quickly grew boring. The only thing I loved to do was read. Books were my escape from reality. I could be invisible when I was reading, no one could see me, no one could bother me, no one could make any demands of me. Then one day at one of the aforementioned boring jobs a fellow employee said "You know, you'd make a great court reporter." It piqued my interest and I decided to steer my life in yet another direction and go back to school. I lov...