Smith Magazine, the publisher of Six Word Memoirs, is holding a contest. Can you sum up motherhood in just six words? Then write a momwoir! But hurry—the contest ends on May 8!
Your momwoir can be funny, poignant, or a True Mom Confession. But if you’ve been there, done that, you know that motherhood is a mix of many emotions, as demonstrated by my entries:
Woman with awesome body becomes homebody.
Two words bring joy: “She pooped!”
You really do become your mother.
There’s no independence with two dependents.
How many years until Kindergarten begins?!
Naptime: my favorite time of day.
Wake me up when they’re grown.
Stuffed animals must breed at night.
Motherhood should require an entrance exam.
Hold tight. The years move fast.
Say “yes” as often as possible.
Grant wishes. Encourage dreams. Inspire hope.
Give birth. Give lessons. Give freedom.
The last one is my personal favorite. But I confess I don’t know if I’ll be able to let go when the time comes.
Which is your favorite? Got any of your own to share?
Mystery, memoir, science fiction, romance, horror, satire—you wouldn’t believe what some writers can accomplish with just six lines. That’s all the room you have to be published in 6S: Volume I, an ecclectic collection of [very] short stories. The brainchild of editor Robert McEvily, the Six Sentences online journal has become so popular that over 100 authors contributed to the first book volume.
I’m celebrating the book’s publication with six sentences about the inspirations behind my 6S fiction.
The Harvest I read the Jane Austen quote that begins the story in one of those tiny inspirational tomes you find on an impulse-purchase rack at the bookstore checkout line (but I didn’t buy it).
The Spark The night before I wrote this story my smoke alarms did go off at 2:43am and scared the crap out of me; there wasn’t any fire but I couldn’t sleep the rest of the night.
Loss I couldn’t decide whether to call this story Lost or Loss, and now I regret my decision.
Submerged My oldest daughter is learning to swim, so I spend a lot of time at the pool where the local swim team practices; I marvel at how smoothly and effortlessly they move through the water.
The Key There are people in your life whom you love, some whom you like, and some whom you must tolerate for the sake of those you love.
Paper Cuts Great beauty is often revered and rewarded, but what would happen if it were met with scorn instead?
Curious? Intrigued? If you need a quick literary fix but don’t have time for six chapters or even six pages, why not pick up Six Sentences?
When company visits in those afternoon hours between lunch and dinner, are you in a dilemma over what to serve? Hummus, with veggies and toasted pita triangles for dipping, is a light yet satisfying snack that won’t spoil dinner. It’s a snap to prepare in a small food processor like the Cuisinart Mini-Prep. Moreover, it can be endlessly varied depending upon what you have on hand. Yesterday I made it with cilantro and lime:
1-2 garlic cloves, peeled
1 scallion (cut into pieces for processor)
1 small handful cilantro leaves
1 can chickpeas/garbanzo beans (15 oz.)
3 TBSP tahini
juice of one lime (lemon can be substituted)
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cumin (optional)
1-2 TBSP olive oil (optional)
Place garlic, scallion and cilantro in processor and pulse until finely chopped.
Add chickpeas, tahini, lemon juice, salt and cumin (if using). Process until smooth. You may need to scrape down the sides of the bowl a few times.
If you prefer a smoother, creamier hummus, add 1-2 TBSP olive oil through the liquid chute as you process.
Serve with toasted pita triangles, baby carrots, cucumber, celery, jicama, cherry tomatoes and other assorted dipping vegetables.
You can make other hummus flavors by processing these ingredents along with the garlic in the first step:
Motherhood Monday has been on a long hiatus, as I’ve been kicking around multiple writing projects. I feel like a forgotten lover, so let’s get back together! (Hmmm…that gives me an idea.)
Our rules are simple: use the writing prompt below to jump-start at least 10 minutes of non-stop writing. Remember what you write does not have to be a full story, but it must have a motherhood theme. Post your fiction on your blog this Monday, linking back here.
Start or end your writing with this phrase:
“Let’s get back together!”
Who wants to get back together and why?
What split them up in the first place?
For more information on Motherhood Monday, follow the category link at the top of this post to see past meme entries. Have fun writing!
Red Roses Savvy women know they’re overpriced and will only last a few days, a week at most. If you must buy her flowers, try something unusual and exotic.
Applicances Even if “we need a new dishwasher” has been a constant refrain in your home, never purchase an appliance as a token of love. They’re a token of convenience and we don’t like to be reminded of our tedious household duties on February 14. They should hand out this rule is Husband 101 class: no appliances for birthdays or anniversaries. Reserve this gift for a random Sunday afternoon at Home Depot.
Exercise Equipment or Gym Membership The baby weight may remain, but she’d like to know you love her just the way she is, not ten pounds lighter.
Homemade Coupons This screams that you put no thought into her…or her gift. If you want to give her a massage or let her take a long, leisurely bubble bath while you play with the kids, then just suggest it when she least expects it.
Stuffed Animals Save them for the kiddies, unless your wife is a closet Webkinz addict.
Chocolates
OK, I might get a lot of flack for this one, but if your wife is in the throes of losing baby weight, perhaps she’d prefer not to have this temptation within easy reach.
Gift Certificates
We know shopping for us is baffling, but don’t take the lame route out and buy a generic gift certificate. Like the homemade coupons, this gift says, “I put no effort into this at all.” You see, guys, it’s all about the thought and effort. We want to know that we’ve been on your mind, not that we’ve been a five-minute pit-stop at Macy’s.
A Framed Photo of the Kids Listen, Daddy-O, photos are our department. Don’t think you can dress the children in their best clothes and take them to a studio without us knowing. You won’t even put them in the correct outfits. And if it’s not a professional photo, why bother? We have umpteen million digital photos of the kids still on the camera, if you would just download them already.
Lingerie If you haven’t yet gotten the message that we’re self-conscious about our post-partum bodies, then please, give up now.
Valentine’s Day Chachkas Do not buy a ceramic teddy bear holding a heart or a crystal train engraved with “I Choo-Choose You.” Just what are we supposed to do with these dust-collectors?
Video Games or DVDs Guys, if you want Halo 2 or Season 1 of Rescue Me, just go and buy it for yourself.
Food Refer to #9, #6 and #3 above.
Nothing At All Get her something. Anything. Just not anything listed above. Your best bet: jewelry. I’ll say it again: jewelry. Don’t get something costume and cheap at Claire’s, either. Maybe she likes antiques and period pieces? Find something unique at a thrift shop. Is white gold her favorite? Hoops are really in right now, and I don’t mean the hula kind—I’m talking hoop earrings. Even trendy necklaces can be found at department store jewelry counters. I also suggest Etsy, although it’s too late to get something delivered. If you’re reading this, you must get to the store now! You don’t have to spend a lot to get a piece of jewelry as unique as she is. Just make sure you put some thought into it, that’s all she wants, to know that she’s constantly on your mind as the love of your life (not as the dish washer).
There are people who claim they don’t like children. That’s fine with me. They are people with whom I don’t associate simply because our paths rarely cross. I doubt I’ll see them at the preschool or playground. But they are certainly entitled to their opinion.
But I’d like to clarify something. It’s not children they don’t like. Children are people. Admitting you don’t like children is equivalent to not liking human beings. Unless you’re a recluse, I don’t think that’s accurate. They like people. Really they do.
It’s the behaviors of children with which these folks find displeasure. Perhaps it’s how children whine when they’re tired. Or the way they ask repetitive questions. The occasional public temper tantrum. Their sticky hands touching things that don’t belong to them.
And you know what? I don’t like those behaviors either. I don’t think anyone does.
But I like children’s giggles. Their small voices. How their eyes open wide when they make a new discovery. Their silly jokes. Their soft, tiny hands reaching for mine. Watching them succeed with a new task. Listening to their secrets and their dreams. I like those things and I know they don’t last very long before innocence and wonder succumb to cynical adulthood—and claiming to dislike children.
How paramount the future is to the present
when one is surrounded by children.
—Charles Darwin
Something strange happens to women once they reach 50, and I’m not talking about hot flashes or sagging skin. I am referring to those female family members who have an overabundance of stuff and feel the sudden need to unload it on me.
I do not need wooden napkin rings circa 1974 nor a pilly afghan in the trendy avocado green of that decade. A framed print seems like a generous offering, until I learn that it sits beneath cracked glass. Sweaters and coats thick with dust and the odor of mothballs? No thanks. Old dented tins, used shopping bags, vinyl placemats, and assorted ceramic chachkas—does my home look like a flea market?
I have relatives who want to get rid of things. I understand that. But they assume the items are too good to throw away. Yet I suspect they also realize their knick-knacks aren’t desirable enough to sell, not even to the eBay crowd, so I’m the solution to their clutter.
So what do I do? Refuse the third PBS tote bag I’ve been offered?
No, I graciously accept it with a “thank you” and watch their eyes light up with pleasure, knowing their treasure has found another home within the family. And then I tuck it away into a dark basement closet, awaiting my 50th birthday when I can hopefully dump the stuff on my nieces.
How about you? Do you have relatives who give away a little too much of themselves?
You may have a novel inside you. But perhaps you’re not the next Hemingway or Steinbeck. Instead, maybe your prose resembles that of Edward George Bulwer-Lytton and “struggles against the darkness.” If your sentences ramble and meander, extend with copious and creative use of punctuation, making a muddled mess of a storyline (much like this sentence), then rejoice. The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest beckons.
You have to be seriously good at writing god-awful fiction if you want to wear the Bulwer-Lytton crown. The contest seeks the worst opening line to a novel. If readers don’t want to continue past your first sentence, then you’ve succeeded.
Create as many terrible sentences as you wish. Submit them all. There are no limits. No story too outlandish, no words too taboo. The official deadline for entries is April 15, a day that conjures up all kinds of tall tales from American taxpayers. However, the deadline is sometimes extended until winners are announced in late June.
While there is only one grand-prize winner, bad writing comes in all genres, so try submitting to the children’s category. Perhaps puns are your forté—this contest encourages vile ones. Fantasy, adventure, historical fiction! Contest owner Scott Rice wants it all—badly.
I’ve submitted a half dozen entries this year, including “The Vampire Kitten”:
Rudy’s feline senses tingled as he watched Minerva pour a glass of milk, thrusting his tongue outward involuntarily, urging him to inexplicably lick his hand and smooth his cowlick, but he could not let Minerva know about the vampire kitten that had sucked his neck like it was catnip—attacking him with a feral ferocity that belied its adorable whiskered face—and how the meowing and purring that had become an integral part of their lovemaking was really just an injection of half-dead Calico.
I hope it’s as bad as I think it is! But I really don’t think it’s the best—I mean, worst—I’ve created. Perhaps you’ll see me on the 2008 winners list.
So please, do not delay. Enter the contest. Let the Lyttony of bad writing begin!
While I’m on a baking kick, I have to share my favorite recipe for soft German pretzels, courtesy of The German Grandma. These are quite a treat on a cold day! Better with a cup of hot cocoa than a cookie! Remember to make the dough a day ahead—or early in the morning—because it should be refrigerated for at least a few hours.
Once you realize how simple and fun it is to make homemade pretzels, you’ll never buy frozen ones again!
I have a few notes regarding this recipe, since I’ve made them now about a dozen times.
Use bread flour, not all-purpose.
The recipes calls for 3 1/2 cups of flour, but I have found better success with just 3 cups. In the past, 3 1/2 cups has made my dough too dry and difficult to roll.
Add flour slowly so you don’t add too much. I prefer doing this through a sieve so the flour is sifted. Knead dough until smooth and elastic. If it’s too sticky, you need to add more flour.
The recipe asks you to separate the dough into 6 or 12 pieces, but I prefer 8. I keep cutting my dough portions in half and this yields uniform pieces.
I roll them out about 24 inches long instead of 36. They’re a little fatter and fluffier that way.
My #1 baking tip: use parchment paper.
Try making different shapes! Young children will enjoy creating their initials or simple animal shapes.
Enjoy this easy and delicious recipe. Danke, German Grandma!
I aspire to be a baker extraordinaire. I scoff at all-purpose flour, trying to morph into cakes as well as levened loaves. No, my pantry overflows with bags of bread flour, cake flour, self-rising flour, pastry flour and whole wheat varieties. I have learned that the correct flour makes an enormous difference in the texture and taste of my home-baked goods.
I have also learned the importance of a superior recipe. Baking is a precise science, unlike cooking stir-fries and meaty stews where improvisation often yields delicious results.
Over the last several months, I’ve been in search of the perfect muffin. I wanted the cake to be fluffy, almost like a birthday cupcake. It should also be moist without being greasy. And sweet—but not overly so.
Time and time again I’ve turned to the Barefoot Contessa for recipes, first lured by a potato, tomato and zucchini tian that has become a family favorite. Why did I wait so long to bake with her? I do not know. Jim Dodge didn’t wow me. Bernard Clayton let me down. Even America’s Test Kitchen tested poorly in my household.
Ina Garten’s recipe for sour cream coffee cake is a baker’s dream come true. She strikes the perfect balance between sweetness and texture, with a flavorful cake that does not sink to the bottom of your stomach like a rock. And the recipe makes wonderful muffins if you bake them for approximately 25 to 30 minutes instead of the 50 minutes recommended for the ring cake.
