Smelling the Rain

Just returned from walking my dogs along a swollen creek. Christmas came early for my Lab. Ever try smiling while you swim? He can. He kicks with his back legs while splashing his front paws, like a child in a bathtub.
All the debris that is rushing by has been dead for months. Waiting. It's like fall soup. Add a little water and the smell of life, even rot, comes alive. The mud under my boots reeks of nourishment; the foliage smells sweet. Back in the garage the ritual of the towels begin. First the Lab, because I can. Rough rubbing on his face as he gleefully pivots his head to make sure I get it all. Then his back, then his belly. All the while "wet dog" smell is filling the garage. And I know why he was smiling.

Oh Gracious Daughter

The opening salvo of a chapter I'm working on involves a scene in a trauma center. There's a world of difference between capturing the stark horror of what happens in these places and what we see on ER, House or Grey's Anatomy. Yes I want drama, but not superficial. Trauma centers are made of smells, and sloppy blood-spattered floors and technical death. I want that texture. So I did what any writer would do with my luxury: I sent the scenario to my daughter Erika, who is a trauma nurse at San Mateo County General. The feedback was raw, gritty, chilling. THAT'S what I was looking for. Use friends and family generously.

Sarahendipity

I've just followed my friend Sarah to Blogspot, seeking communion with her creativity and perhaps light a fire under the arse of my muse. Sarah has one thing I don't: Optimism and, as one of her friends put it, effervescence. I'm hoping it's contagious. Sarah's a wonderful writer, something I discovered when we worked together at a magazine some years ago. I'm motivated by her energy to get past my self-serving doubts and indecision. There was a line from "Wonder Boys" where Michael Douglas' grad student provides him with a diagnosis: "You once told us that writers make decisions. You're not making any decisions." Like Sarah, bless young insight.