OKC Tidbits

I've just returned from a trip to Oklahoma City, where my husband presented a paper at an eighteenth-century literary conference. It was nice to get away and see some new things.

Here are some of the stories:

We checked into our hotel and then walked back to the parking garage to get our bags. We got into the elevator with two other people who were journalists of some type: he had a handheld video camera and she held a microphone like those you see on TV news. Another man also got on at the same time. We rode down a floor and the doors opened to reveal five or six Japanese students, as well as three long, narrow drums. Those of us in the small elevator were ready to go on without them because it was already almost full, but the students laughed and piled on. We were really crammed in there and I was thinking about weight limits. The female journalist tried to interview the students but barely got past her name and "reporting live from Oklahoma City" before the doors opened and we all spilled out. You never know who you're going to share an elevator with.

When we went to the room where the panel would be held, another professor and my husband decided to set up the screen for their presentations. It was one of those old-fashioned pull-down screens on a tripod, and I had to smile as they juggled the whole thing and tried to work out how to get the screen unfurled and the legs spread out. At one point, the other professor said, "How many PhDs does it take...?" They got it figured out, though.

After the conference, we walked to the Oklahoma City Museum of Art, which has an impressive collection of works by Dale Chihuly. He does incredible things with glass and color, including the work shown below in an OKCMOA postcard. It's 55 feet high!

Postcard of Oklahoma City Museum of Art

Inside the museum, there's a section of clear glass ceiling about 15-20 feet long, and resting on top of the ceiling is an assortment of glass in all shapes and colors. The light came through and it was like walking under a stained glass window. There was a wooden boat full of glass globes, each with a unique pattern of color, and they all looked like exotic planets to me. There were glass bowls, sculptures and abstract shapes. All of the works in the collection were displayed with carefully arranged lighting to make them stand out. It was an amazing exhibit.

We also visited Bricktown (including a terrific lunch at TapWerks), Myriad Botanical Gardens and the Crystal Bridge Tropical Conservatory (butterflies and orchids in February!). The conference was at the Skirvin Hotel, which is a place worth visiting itself: amazing architecture, beautiful furnishings, an incredible assortment of crystal chandeliers, something to see at every turn.

We did a lot of walking (my thighs are still speaking to me about that), ate some wonderful food and had a good time. It was a short trip (a little over two days) but well worth it.

I'm already wondering where we can go next!

Hidden Layers

Not long ago, I watched an episode of “Nature” on PBS about the discovery of a partial skeleton of what might be the largest dinosaur species to ever have walked the Earth. It was found in Argentina and is thought to have lived about 100 million years ago. I started watching the show because it was hosted by Sir David Attenborough, who never fails to get me just as interested in a topic as he is.

This was no exception. For one thing, when they first showed the thigh bone (femur), I couldn’t help noticing that its length seemed greater than the height of Attenborough himself. Sure enough, they revealed that it was almost 8 feet long! Try to imagine the size of this animal: half of its leg was taller than a person! It was around 120 feet long: that’s twenty of me lying head to foot! That’s BIG. It’s also a little hard to envision.

Scientists had casts made of the bones and assembled them in a warehouse so they could see what the complete skeleton looked like. I was fascinated with the result. Although a skeleton is certainly not the whole dinosaur, it gave me a better idea of the basic structure of the animal.

I thought about that today when I went for a walk, a rare thing for me in the winter. We’ve been blessed with unseasonably warm temperatures lately and I decided it was time to take advantage of that, so I headed to a tree-filled park north of town … in a T-shirt! How strange is that for February? It felt good to walk without immediately wanting to retreat inside.

As I walked, however, I noticed something strange. The park looked different. Other than the fact that the trees had no leaves and there were no blooming plants, something else was off. I peered around me, trying to discern what it was … and then it hit me: I could see! Without the curtain of leaves and lush vegetation, I could see parts of the park that had always been hidden to me during the spring, summer and fall.

It was kind of fun to realize there was a stream I’d never noticed, to recognize another path that was closer than I thought, to spot other people through the trees. I saw hills and boulders that had never been visible before.

Like the dinosaur, I wasn’t seeing the whole park, but winter has revealed a layer that usually goes unseen: the basic structure. Just as the dinosaur’s skeleton would have been covered with muscles, organs and skin, what I saw of the park will soon be covered with leaves, grass and various plants. It will be inhabited by squirrels, rabbits, deer, turtles and birds of all types.

It all begins with the foundation.

If you want to watch the “Nature” episode, here’s a link: Nature Episode

Citizen Science

Whether you consider yourself a scientist or not, you have a chance to make a contribution to science this weekend. It's called the Great Backyard Bird Count. It's easy, it's fun and it's free!

Here are the only items you'll need: a piece of paper, a writing utensil, your eyes and a patch of ground. That's it! If you want to use binoculars, that will help, but they aren't necessary.

Find a place where you want to count. It can be your own back yard (a birdfeeder really helps) or it can be a park, a forest, a lake, anywhere you might find birds.

If you don't think you can identify the birds you see, there are ways to resolve that. You can enlist someone who knows birds to help you. You can go online to any good birding site for help. There are even apps that can help you, such as this one: Merlin

Now take fifteen minutes to count the birds you see. As a rule, you should count groups of birds as you see them, and then take the highest number of the same species that you saw all at once. That will reduce the possibility of counting the same bird twice. For example, if you see four goldfinches, and then ten goldfinches, and then three goldfinches, your recorded total would be ten. Write down a total for every bird you saw that you could identify. You can do this as many times as you want this weekend and Monday.

Once you've got your totals, you can go to this site to report them: Great Backyard Bird Count  It's easy to sign in and make your report(s). Once you've done that, you can see statistics of where people are counting and what they've counted so far. They will even email you a copy of your report if you request it.

I've been doing this for several years and it's always fascinating to see what species of birds are in my back yard. This morning I counted eight different species in the same fifteen-minute span.

All of this information will help scientists determine where birds are and how their numbers are doing. It's important for them to have a snapshot from around the world ... and that's where we come in. They couldn't do it without us.

So get out and count! You'll be helping the scientists and the birds.

The Little Things

I write about a lot of different topics on this blog. I've detailed some of the joys of writing and some of the frustrations. Sometimes I'm thrilled and sometimes I'm dejected. That comes with the territory, I guess.

Sometimes when I'm a little down, a great event will raise my spirits. Those are the good times! More often, however, it's something small ... and I have to be willing to recognize it. Here are three examples.

I needed to double-check some tax information recently. (Even when you make no money, you have to report your earnings and expenses to the IRS. I joke with my husband that I'm helping reduce our tax rate with my lack of sales.) I found a discrepancy, so I had to look at some of the reports online. While I was doing that, I looked up Outsider on amazon.com (that still hasn't gotten old) and scrolled through the information. As I did, I noticed something strange:

Amazon.com Feb 4, 2016

The last time I looked, Outsider was at about five or six million in the Amazon Best Sellers Rank, certainly not 224,181. This could only mean one thing so I hopped over to Createspace.com and ran a report. Sure enough, for the first time in over two years, I'd sold a copy of Outsider on Amazon! I don't know how this happened or who bought it, but it was cause for celebration. (To keep things in perspective, I noticed that my other two novels are still ranked at around five or six million.) To that lone buyer out there: thank you!

I stopped in at the local bookstore this weekend to check on my inventory and chat with the proprietor. When I arrived, there were others ahead of me so I browsed while I waited. As I did that, I heard the proprietor say to another woman, "That's one of our local writers." I looked around, but there was nobody else in the store ... so then I realized that she meant me! That doesn't get old either.

Last but not least, I was at a medical establishment recently, waiting for someone to actually come see me after I'd waited for about 45 minutes. I was annoyed, trying to think of some way to catch someone's attention so I could voice my displeasure. Instead, I allowed myself a bit of whimsy: I imagined my characters storming the place, pistols in hand. I saw terrified office assistants cowering while my characters spread out, shouting, "Okay, what's the deal? Why's no one seeing Diane? Get to it!" I actually smiled and was in a better mood when the doctor did arrive, so I didn't even say anything snide. That's a win.

Each of those little things added up to something that made my week better than it would have been otherwise. I try to notice and embrace these kinds of things because they're what make the not-so-good times bearable.

What are the little things that made your week better? Be on the lookout because they can try to sneak by without you noticing them. Take note ... and enjoy!