The Password is:

Passion.

Ok, so today I found myself without a good idea for a blog entry.

Sure, I’ve been thinking a lot about the NewMexiKen post that said, essentially, that 5% of the active blogs out there have not actually been updated in the past 120 days.

That the vast majority of the time, people tend to start a blog and then abandon it.

So when I started this crazy thing on the suggestion of The Good Man, I made myself promise I’d keep up with it, and if I didn’t, I’d shut ‘er down.

Now, two years and over 600 posts later, I’m still doin’ it. And I’ll let you in on a secret…I like it. A lot.

Sometimes I read a post I wrote and I’m *diggin’* it. Of course, the ones I think are rock star posts are the ones that gain zero comments. Such is life.

Those times where I’m in the flow, where I’m making it work…yeah, I feel the passion, sure.

But this week I’m having a failure of ideas. It happens. It will pass. This is something I’ve learned. Let it go, it will return.

Today, I’m just not in the zone. So searching for inspiration, I decided I would hit a random word generator, take the first word it gave me, and make that the basis for a post.

So I did. (In case you need a random word for yourself, you can grab one here)

The first word I got was passion.

I cringed, I winced, I wanted to go back and grab another word, but then…that would be cheating.

So…passion.

A blog post about passion.

A Google search yielded the expected…couples therapy, some sex toys, and way too many entries about a Mel Gibson movie I never saw (and won’t).

So I went over to images, and found the one at the end of this post.

And there you have it. It ties in both passion and blogging.

How tidy. THAT appeals to my OCD!

And that’s how you keep that blog passion burning. Boom, baby!

Cartoon found at gapingvoid.com (good stuff, I recommend!)

Thank you!

To all who voted for my stories in the Tweet Me a Story contest: a huge, sincere, and humble

THANK YOU!

I made it to the finals round!! 100 writers comprise the finals.

We write again on Wednesday, judges will pick the top 25 stories and voting begins on Thursday.

I have my work cut out for me! This finals round will be tough.

I seriously appreciate the votes and the help and the friendship and I’ll keep you posted if I manage to make it into the final voting round.

Woooot!

Rock your Vote!

Hello party people! I could use a bit of your help, please.

I participated in something called “Tweet Me a Story” contest from the great group of folks over at NYCMidnight (they do film and story contests and are a lot of fun).

This is how it works, there were 500 writers placed into 25 groups. We were all assigned a word that had to be used in a 140 character story. Each writer was allowed to enter three stories.

Judges chose the top 15 stories from each of the 25 groups, and then posted those stories online for voting.

I had the amazing luck to have two of my stories go through!

To help me out and cast your vote, go HERE or cut and paste this link:

http://www.nycmidnight.com/2009/tweet/firstround.htm

I am in Group 3 – flying

My stories are 7th down and 11th down on the list.

Or to go straight to the voting page for my group: here

You are, of course, welcome to vote for whichever stories you like…

The stories that get the top 5 votes are able to go on and compete in the next round.

Every vote counts and thank you in advance!

I am Karen Fayeth, and I approve this message. This post sponsored by the Give the Girl a Chance campaign!

Lyrical Philsophy

Several years ago, I used to date a musician. We’ll call those “the dark years.” He was the real deal, taught himself to play, had the “gift,” was making a living (such that it was) playing music.

We would often have debates. He was a true music guy. I, on the other hand, am a fan of words.

He often told me that it was the music that mattered. The words were just something that floated on top. It didn’t matter if they were there.

Obviously, this ticked me off.

Over time, I learned to appreciate more of the nuances to music. How a driving drumbeat could make an otherwise dull song into a moving tune. How one hamfisted musician could ruin a whole piece. How the sounds tell a story that the musician weaves together.

He never, however, learned to appreciate the words.

I used to say that even the cheesiest song in the world could offer up some value, some deeply meaningful bit of emotion or philosophy or declaration. I even gave examples. He would reluctantly agree that the words I’d quoted had meaning, but not in the context of a song.

I got to thinking about this again today while listening to my iPod. Thinking about how seemingly throwaway songs can actually yield something meaningful tucked away in the lyrics.

The song that got me going was The Spinners classic “Working My Way Back to You” (originally a Frankie Valli song).

The lyric that “gets me” is this:

“I used to love to make you cry/It made me feel like a man inside/
But if I’d been a man in reality/You’d still be here, baby, lovin me”

No doubt The Spinners knew how to lay down an amazing groove, but this pop-y hit song speaks of redemption. The guy had a great girl, he “ran around like I was free”, then was *shocked* when she got self-respect and left him. He realized he’d blown it BIG time.

Those words, that lyric I quoted, is a really great turn of phrase. It shows a depth of self-awareness rarely seen in top 40 hits.

Those words, to me, make the song. I listen to the funky beat line, but I *wait* for those lyrics. They make me feel something.

I’ve got plenty more examples. Watch me work!

Here we go, the most bubblegum of pop tunes, Britney Spears’, “Baby One More Time.” Not the most musically interesting song, but well produced.

Don’t think about the song, the bouncy music, just read:

“My loneliness is killing me/And I must confess/I still believe/
When I’m not with you lose my mind”

Once again, a song of “didn’t know what I got until it was gone.” Earlier the song talks about “I shouldn’t have let you go” and now the narrator is alone and missing the one they took for granted.

In reading the words, I can feel the regret. Who among us hasn’t left someone behind only to find themselves all alone and losing their mind a little bit about “what might have been?”

See what I’m saying? The words have meaning!

Ok, I went to Billboard’s Top 100. Number one song right now is “Boom Boom Pow” by the Black Eyed Peas.

Pfew…this one might be tough. Not all songs have a redeeming lyric, but most do. Let me think on this….

To be fair, this song IS a lot about the sounds. About the tones that Will.i.am can put together so well.

But there is a message there…go with me on this.

“I like that boom boom pow/Them chickens jackin’ my style/They try copy my swagger/I’m on that next shit now”

Sure, it’s a brag, but it’s also true. Since the success of the Black Eyed Peas, there are a TON of imposters trying to work Will.i.am’s style. He’s reminding us that while people are mimicking the last thing he did, he’s onto the next thing. He’s a trendsetter, not a follower. He’s ahead of the curve and a not so subtle reminder to people to remember the original.

It makes me feel like he’s frustrated trying to be an original while everyone falls in behind trying to take what he made. As an artist, I completely get that.

Whew, ok, that one was tough. But I got there.

I could go on with examples all day. I guess that music matters to me so much, but everyone enjoys music for different reasons. I think that anyone who can write lyrics is, in their own way, a poet and a philosopher. The meaning shouldn’t be discounted just because a song is viewed as too pop or too cheesy or too whatever.

I think both the words and the music matter, but as a writer, I can zoom in on a well-turned bit of phrase and feel like I’m in the flow.

When an artist can make someone feel, feel something, anything, whatever emotion, then I believe they have succeeded.

The very heart of creating.

I rest my case.

That’s improbable!

While getting ready for work this morning, The Feline was busting my chops. She likes to do this, especially when I’m tired and groggy at oh-dark-thirty in the morning.

Sometimes I humor the animal (or, er, myself) and have a “conversation.” It goes something like this:
_______________

Feline: Meow!

Me: What’s that you say?

Feline: Meow!

Me: Constantinople? Really?

Feline: Meeeow!

Me: Met at the bazaar? You know, they don’t even call it Constantinople any more. You’re so old fashioned.

Feline: Meow!
_______________

That is but one example.

So this morning, The Feline and I engaged in another of our lengthy conversations. Here’s the rough transcript:

_______________

Feline: MEOW!

Me: Had a bad dream, huh? Sorry to hear it.

Feline: Meow

Me: Maybe you should try cutting the kibble ration and sleeping less?

Feline: Meow!

Me: That’s interesting. You know they say a dream about eating fish means many conflicting things. Could be attachment issues.

Feline: Meow!
_______________

It was then that I thought to myself, “Hey, I could do that whole Pet Psychic routine. This is easy!”

Why did my brain drift over to “Pet Psychic?”

I’ll tell you why.

Recently, I pitched a literary agent about my latest work. Last week, I got feedback from the agent. He said (in not so many words) that a main plot point of my story wasn’t entirely plausible.

I found that odd, since that plot point was something that had actually happened in my life (“write what you know!”).

But ok, I took his very professional feedback to heart (maybe too much to heart, if you were to ask The Good Man).

With that in mind, I went to the library to check out items in the “new fiction” section to see what IS plausible enough to get published these days.

That’s where I found this gem.

“Pet psychic, radio host, four-time widow, and dedicated rescuer of distressed animals, Mary Catherine rushes in to help a turtle stranded in a house, only to stumble over a body. With the rescued turtle as the only witness, MC works with the initially skeptical police to discover the real murderer.”

Unh huh. So a pet psychic getting the eyewitness account from a turtle IS plausible enough to be published?

Ooookaaay.

And the clincher from the book jacket:

“Includes recipes for pet treats!”

Well there you have it.

The Feline remains non-plussed.