Leonardo da Vinci and Ritalin

If Leonardo da Vinci was an American child in the 80s, 90s, or maybe even now, it’s a good chance he would have been diagnosed with ADD: attention deficit disorder. Clinically, that means the person has a problem, that he has trouble concentrating and controlling impulses. To me, it just means his brain is working faster and over a wider spectrum than ‘normal’ folks. The standard ‘remedy’ for this is medication. I don’t believe this lack of focus is a fault, but only a character aspect. And if it’s not broke, don’t (try to) fix it. 

{Note: I’ll probably get lots of flack about this. But opinions are like nose hairs, everyone has at least one. If you don’t agree with me, so be it.}

Leonardo is my hero. Whenever I get overwhelmed, I think of how much this guy did. And no, I don’t think he was, or needed to be, medicated. So what if he couldn’t/wouldn’t focus on whether he wanted to be a painter, mathematician, inventor, sculptor, cartographer (map maker), geologist, musician, engineer, writer… He still accomplished a lot in his short (67 year) lifespan.

Shoot! Sympathize with him?—I identify with him! Do I want to be a gardener, author, photographer, create hundreds of gluten-free recipes, quilt, compose songs, cross-breed roses, invent a fool-proof gopher/slug/deer deterrent, sell tractor parts, design web pages, crochet afghans or sweaters… Nope, I can’t/won’t focus, either.

I felt so strongly about the bad press that ‘over-stimulated’ folks received that—while in author mode—I made sure some of my characters had that same trait.

Here’s an excerpt from Aye, I am a Fairy:

“You know, it may seem like I’m a bit hyper,” she said suddenly. “I mean, look at me; I’ve got at least five different projects going on here. But it’s okay. When I get bored or stumped with one, I just move on to the next one. Mom told me it was because I was ‘highly intelligent.’ She didn’t believe in all that attention deficit disorder stuff. She had the same thing going on when she was in school. She’d finish her work early, get bored and start doodling or daydreaming, and then miss what the teacher had just said. Her mother told those teachers that they weren’t going fast enough for her daughter, and if they wanted to really help her, they would give her something else to do when she was finished with the assignments. So, they let her go to the music room and play the piano. The music teacher showed her the basics. Mom took off from there with just a stack of music books to guide her. Man, she was motivated. She’d rip right through her schoolwork just so she could go do her thing in the music room. Her grades went up and, even though she never did anything with it, she learned how to play piano pretty well. Me, I just drew and doodled until high school. Then, once I started being home-schooled, I dropped the doodling and blasted through everything so I could go to college early, get my degree, and make enough money that I didn’t have to worry about bills.”

***

Oh, and I created a time traveler named Leonardo da Vinci the elder. Look for him in NAKED IN THE WINTER WIND, the first book in The Fairies Saga series. He’s not the same as his son, my renaissance hero, but quite the character, just the same.

Yup, writing novels doesn’t produce new hardy and unusual roses, nor will it cover my lap with warmth like a quilt or afghan (unless my laptop overheats), nor will it produce fantastic gluten-free brownies, but it does let me implant personable or irritating traits in people whose body size, color, and gender I determine. These folks may lack social security numbers, but they will definitely raise a heart rate, cause a tear, or illicit a chuckle.

And I couldn’t have done any of it if I had been able to focus.

Dani Haviland is author of The Fairies Saga. Time travelers, interacting with 'fictional characters,' bouncing between the 21st century and 1780s North Carolina (and later Australia!).

Sunscreen or scarf? Tanktop or hoodie?

Spring is here in the Lower 48. What to wear wasn't a problem when I lived in Alaska...at least for nine months out of the year. Now that I'm in Oregon, getting dressed for the day isn't so easy.

Yesterday, the sun was shining, I had four young folks from my church coming over to do some yard work (establishing the innards of my new raised bed garden plot: weed barrier and compost/soil mix), and I made sure I had cups of ice and loads of drinks to choose from for the hard-working crew.


Maybe I should have made hot cocoa instead. One minute, we're all in tee-shirts or other short-sleeved wear (my ever-present scrubs), the next minute, all but one of us had donned hoodies. I'm sure Joseph would have, too, but he didn't come prepared.

Erratic weather is everywhere. The same northwest weather pattern that blew so hard, it doused the electricity in my neighborhood for seven hours and dropped the morning temperature to 33 degrees also brought a late dump of snow to my old place in Alaska.

Is it global warming?

Nah. It's been going on for glacial generations. Call it what you will, but I say it's like false labor pains: just getting us ready for the real deal in a few weeks.

Plant the peas, but hold off on transplanting those tomatoes that are straining at the sides of the cut-down milk carton. Real summer will come eventually. Unless you're in Alaska. But even then, the relative warmth of that welcomed growing season will arrive.

But just to be sure, make sure you have both sunscreen and a hoodie nearby.

Pictured below is the first peony of the year (April 21) to bloom at my new old house. I don't know the cultivar, but it is an herbaceous variety, grew on old six-foot tall wood, and is huge. That's my wrist pulling it down so I could snap a shot.

Show your support of growing and reading by following me here: http://amzn.to/14uyAIW

Writing will have to wait until the sun goes down.

Goldilocks Syndrome

Okay, I’ve been MIA for nearly four months now. This Connecticut-born lass who grew up in the Arizona desert, then spent the last twenty-three years in Alaska has moved to Oregon. 

Yup, I'm in Eden. 

Arizona was too hot, and after all those years, Alaska just became too dark. A change was needed.

Actually, my dear husband spotted the signs of SAD in me. That’s Seasonal Affective Disorder for those who don’t know. That means the lack of daylight brings on depression and lethargy. If one gets lots of exercise, works or plays outside to make use of the limited amount of northern winter sunshine, it isn’t a problem. I don’t ski or ice fish, and haven’t shoveled snow or made a snowman in a few seasons. I remembered to take my vitamin D daily, but the real thing was needed.

Sunshine.

I’m content in my new, old (built in 1900) home. Actually, I haven’t officially ‘moved’ from Alaska. I’ve seen too many people say, “I’m outta here; too much cold,” and then return in less than a year. The usual complaint is that people ‘Outside’ are mean or rude. Alaskans are friendly, but so are Oregonians.

And  here I have sunshine and more flowering plants than I can count.

I’ll keep you posted, but it may be that the folks in Oregon, at least in my area, are just as nice as Alaskans. And that’s saying that they’re some of the greatest folks around.

Oh, and I can see the stars at night here. There was never enough dark in the summer for that stellar blanket to show in the Anchorage area, and in the winter, my frosty breath kept me from getting a good look. I’ll miss the northern lights, but they weren’t showing off every night. 

Instead, I'll cultivate, cut, and share the flowers that bloom, even in winter here.

(That's me last week in front of a 10' tall red camellia bush. It's sister plant, a pink camellia, was blooming in January!)

Enjoy yourself, wherever you are. And remember, unless your feet are planted in the ground, you, too, can relocate.

And maybe you can find your own Eden, Goldilocks.

The miracle of time

Do you remember when you were young and minutes seemed like hours, summer vacation would never get here, and you couldn't wait to grow up?

Yeah, I remember it, too.

Time really does fly when you get older. And now that I'm officially an 'old fart' (or would that be 'old fartress?'), I wish time hadn't gone so quickly. Zoom! That sweet little baby girl who surprised me with her arrival when I was in my early forties is going to be a mommy soon.

Yikes!

I've become that gray-haired old lady who is obsessed with golden oldie movies and music--stories and tunes that didn't rely on obscenities, blood and guts, or gore to get attention--who pays more attention to her dogs, and knows that if I'm aging quickly, they're doing it seven times as fast, and who (still) loves to garden.

Yes, and I am well aware that I won't be around forever.

Well, maybe...

I'm saving myself in my work. Or rather, my passions. I write stories, grow flowers, and preserve both for my children, and their children, and according to the current copyright laws, my heirs seventy years after I die. My genetic carriers may never know me personally, but if they're interested, they can read my books and look at the myriads of photos I took, using media to find out who I was.

At least, I hope they will.

Below is Rocky, still kicking at 11 years old. He doesn't care to have his picture taken, but when I asked where Marty (my husband) was, his ears perked up. It's just a quickie snapshot edited in Picasa, but it is sure to be a treasure when he's gone.

Preserve your family, pets, flowers, and views on life. Somewhere down the line, an heir, acquaintance, or even a stranger, may want to know what you did for entertainment, your favorite foods, and what life was like day-to-day. I know I have my great-grandfather's journal of his trip across the plains as a Mormon pioneer. Even the mundane was fascinating to me, his trials with the weather and sicknesses a true measure of how determined he and his peers were to find a new home.

Take a minute, snap some photos, and start a journal. Save them in the Cloud and in print. Who knows, in a hundred years, print may be obsolete and the Cloud archaic. No matter what, though, someone will find your items of interest.

Maybe they'll even write a fictional time travel story with you as the hero or heroine....

Dani Haviland
(Inspired by the fact that I didn't realize it had been so long since I had blogged. Aye, I am a Fairy is available now: Buy on Amazon here)

New and improved cover!

The new cover for AYE, I AM A FAIRY, the second book in the time travel series, THE FAIRIES SAGA, is ready to grace your book shelf or Kindle reader. The model, Harvey Stables, has a killer grin, don't you agree?

Pretty on the outside, and a mix of mystery, history, and fantasy, with a tad of lust, a dash of violence, and a pinch of humor on the inside. The characters will live in your head long after you’ve read the books.

 

Can you handle it? I'm sure the over 18 year old folk will love it (This is not a children's book. Time travelers are what we call fairies).

Introductory priced at 99 cents. And the first book in the series, NAKED IN THE WINTER WIND, is free for the weekend of September 12-14. Load up the Kindle and get ready for winter. 

Thanks, Kim Killion and HotDamnDesigns.com for the great cover work.

Coming soon: Aye, I am a Fairy

My apologies (or humble explanation) up front: The Fairies Saga has been published out of sequence due to my insistence that it remain in draft stage until it was ripe and ready for consumption. Book two in the series, Aye, I am a Fairy, is in the final edit and proofing stages and should be ready before autumn equinox, September twenty-something-or-other.

In case you want a little ramp up, here's where we left off, the last chapter in book one and a half, the novella Ha'penny Jenny.

10 Please don’t go

(last chapter of Ha'penny Jenny)

  “Don’t go. Please, Grandpa Jody, please don’t go,” begged Jenny, her eyes red and brimming, her tears almost—but not quite—spilling over.

  “I’m not goin’ anywhere, lass.” Jody reached down, picked her up, and swung her in a tight circle. “I have to stay here and teach ye how to dance.”

  “Promise me you won’t leave, please. Pretty please with honey and candy and flowers and sugar and please, please…”

  “What’s the matter, lass? I’ll always be here fer ye. Yer my family—my granddaughter.”

  Jenny shook her head, trying to get the bloody image to go away, but it wouldn’t leave. She sniffed. She couldn’t tell grandpa that sometimes she ‘saw’ things before they happened. She’d never tell anyone that again. She shivered with the memory.

  “Now, dinna be afeart of somethin’ bad happenin’ to me.” Jody gave her an extra hug of reassurance. “Ye canna go through life afeart of what’s on the other side of a door, or down the road, or…”

Jenny nodded rapidly, but even as he spoke the words, telling her not to worry, she saw him lying in the road, covered in blood. She squeezed him around the neck, almost choking him. “Well, if you have to go somewhere, be verra careful and don’t go anywhere alone, okay?”

  “All right, I promise. Now, loosen yer grip about my neck so I can show ye the proper way to dance. That is, with yer feet on the ground and yer hand on my shoulder—if it’ll reach that high.”

  Jenny slid down his body until she was on tip toes, then reached up as high as she could with her fingertips. 
 “I’m not tall enough yet, but I will be. Mommy said I’ll grow tall and pretty if I eat my greens every day. But I can’t eat too many, or I’ll get a bellyache, huh?”

  “Aye, lass. Too much of anythin’, save lovin’ yer family, is seldom a good idea. And I’ll be verra careful whenever I leave yer presence. Oof! I need to stay around long enough to give ye a few more dancin’ lessons, at least. Yer next partner’s feet may nae be as tough as mine.”

  Jenny looked up at him again, squinting hard. Maybe he’d be okay now that he promised not to be alone.

  But maybe not.

  The sadness was still there.

  But now there was hope. And help.

  Someone else was coming to their home, maybe next month, maybe next week.

  And maybe he’d bring a big sister for her, too.

Formula for a time travel novel

Naked in the Winter Wind is a time travel story. A lusty, action-packed time travel tale.

Yeah, right. Whoop-de-doo. Those are all over the place. If my stories are to make a splash, they have to have something different.

So, how about a 'real' person falling into another story about time travel? That could work. I know I wouldn't mind falling into my favorite novel. But if I did, I wouldn't want to be in this chunky old lady body! Shoot, I'd want the one I had when I was in my late teens. Firm and frisky--yeah, that's what I'd want to be if I were running around the woods, interacting with hunky 18th century men.

Okay. One bottle of Fountain of Youth water, coming up.

But the guilt! How could I leave my family behind? There are friends and pets and creditors... Okay, forget the creditors. But my daughter would miss me, I'm sure.

Okay. One case of amnesia, coming up. Bring out the twist of pollen stem for the sweet, but clumsy, little old lady, administered by a master time traveler/guide-type person.

Oh, and don't forget smart women, strong men (some good, some troubled), villains, an innocent child or four, and critters. They are absolutely necessary for a good tale. They're included, too.

What else is needed? The tried and true formula says that a series is required. Readers always want more. Let's call it The Fairies Saga. Fairies can be what time travelers are called. Sounds more fantasy-like to me.

Finally, and to make mine even more different from the rest, I've thrown in a solar-powered smartphone. An inadvertent video can make a difference in convincing others that going back (and forth) 230 years is possible. But remember: keep the (painless) how-to time travel a closely guarded family secret!

Enjoy Naked in the Winter Wind, the first in The Fairies Saga series. Buy the e-book version here http://amzn.to/1j3QtxY or order a hard copy from Amazon, personally autographed from www.danihaviland.com, or from your favorite bookseller.

And tell your friends that you, too, believe in fairies and time travel.