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Writing, Reading, and Rural Life With a Border Collie


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‘I am not SPOCK’: Going where no Vulcan has gone before

I am not SPOCK

By Leonard Nimoy

Buaccaneer Books, Inc. 1975

ISBN: 1-56849-691-5

Actor.  Photographer.  Political activist.  Poet.  King Arthur.  Extra-terrestrial.

What are the chances these words can all be connected to one person?  In the case of Leonard Nimoy, the chances are high because he is all of the above.  And much more.

Skimming the Biography section of the local library the other day, a slim black volume caught my eye.  Maybe it was because I was sitting on the floor, trying to escape the notice of a marauding band of sticky-faced toddlers, and the book’s spine just happened to be at eye level.  Maybe it was because my youngest son, age 11, had just checked out the third season of Star Trek on DVD.

Whatever the reason, I picked up I am not SPOCK, checked it out and read Leonard Nimoy’s brief, engaging memoirs in a couple days.  It’s an enjoyable, occasionally quirky read, providing a glimpse into a complicated and gifted artist who’s much more than a pointy-eared Vulcan  pronouncing “fascinating” with raised eyebrow.

While Nimoy chronicles some of his creative differences with scripts, producers and directors of the ST series, “never was heard a disparaging word” about any other ST cast member.  He tells us about some of his favorite scenes and episodes from the series as well as some of his disappointments in character development and effective dramatic interactions.  Without acrimony, he describes a perceived dip in quality during the show’s third and final season and what it felt like to be hurried off the Paramount lot within days of ST’s production shutdown.

Nimoy also discusses his post-Star Trek work on Mission: Impossible (remember that?), big screen ventures, Shakespearean theater, and subsequent roles as King Arthur in Camelot, the king in The King and I, McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and his special delight in playing Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof. (As a native San Diegan, I took special notice of his descriptions regarding his work with San Diego’s renowned Old Globe Theatre in Balboa Park)

We meet some of the ST cast and crew in I am not,  but we don’t stay aboard the Enterprise long and are soon introduced to Yul Brynner, Richard Crenna, Martin Landau, Isaac Asimov and others.  Nimoy avoids narrating such interactions in a pompous “me, too” manner and sticks to matter-of-fact narrative, often rimmed with dry humor and pithy observations.  He also includes a humorous exchange between himself and pediatrician Dr. Benjamin Spock at an ACLU conference.

As an actor, Nimoy demonstrates his devotion to quality as he is always on the lookout for new roles and challenges.  As a person, Nimoy provides glimpses into his family and home, travels, personal appearances, Jewish roots, interactions with “fans,” political interests and activities, and a creative, complex personality that truly has gone where no Spock has gone before.  As example is Nimoy’s inclusions of imaginary dialogue between Nimoy and Mr. Spock, such as:

NIMOY: Spock, … how does it feel to be popular?

SPOCK: I do not have feelings.

NIMOY: I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to offend you.

SPOCK.  I am not offended.  I understand your tendency to judge me by your human standards.  It would however, facilitate matters if you would refrain from doing so.

NIMOY: I’ll try… Are you aware that you are popular?

SPOCK: I am aware of a certain public interest that exists.

NIMOY: People like you.  Do you care about that?

SPOCK: Should I?

And so on.

More than thirty years have elapsed since I am Not SPOCK was published.  By the final chapter, Live Long and Prosper-L’Chaim, we’d like to pour a second cup of coffee for another “kitchen table” chat with an old friend.


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The Hunt

“Writing is like hunting.  There are brutally cold afternoons with nothing in sight, only the wind and your breaking heart.  Then the moment you bag something big… You think, ‘This one is a keeper.  This is a trophy brought back from the future realm, the kingdom of glistening night where we know ourselves absolutely.  This one goes on the wall.'”  – Kate Braverman

What have you “put on the wall” lately?


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… And now for a shameless plug…

Forgiveness: What It Is, What It Isn't, Why It Matters

“Genuine forgiveness isn’t for wusses or weaklings,” writes author Kristine Lowder in her new release, Forgiveness: What It Is, What It Isn’t, Why It Matters.  “It can require immense strength, fortitude and grace.”

Emphasizing that  forgiveness is always a choice,Lowder says  “Choosing to forgive does not mean you have to excuse bad behavior, or return to an unhealthy, abusive, or unsafe environment.”  She cautions, “Forgiving doesn’t mean going back for more.”   Examples  from the Amish community, an Auschwitz survivor, Jesus and many others are included.

Brisk and brief, this book’s “kitchen conversation” flavor is peppered with personal anecdotes, historical examples and real-life observations.  It includes a look at  “trigger-happy forgiveness,” essential elements of an apology, the necessary link between repentance and reconciliation, apologizing versus blame-shifting, seven steps toward forgiveness, when and how to apologize, forgiveness praying and spiritual warfare.  Lowder also debunks common “forgiveness myths” and  cites physical, spiritual and psychological benefits of forgiveness.

In Why It Matters: The Fight, Lowder asks, “Why are unity and charity within the Body so hard to find?  Why is it easier to allow a broken relationship to stay broken than it is to do the hard work of peace-making and rebuilding?  It’s almost as if something or someone is set against us.”  Someone is.  Find out how to fight back.

Includes How to Apologize and Mean It, Reconciliation Readiness Indicators, and a recommending reading list. Forgiveness: What It Is, What It Isn’t, and Why It Matters offers real help to real people with real questions.

Available in both trade paperback and as a digital download. To order, click here.

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An independent writing professional and creative consultant, Kristine Lowder is a multi-published author specializing in creative non-fiction, inspirational fiction and humor. Her byline has appeared in hundreds of publications as well as several anthologies including Whispers of Inspiration, Our Fathers Who Art in Heaven and A Pixel-Perfect Christmas.


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Storyteller, Not Decorator

“My advice to writers yearning for publication is to minimize description, and be sure you don’t stop the story while describing.  You are a storyteller, not an interior decorator.” – Sol Stein, Stein on Writing

A Little Lowder * Twitter * Facebook


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‘cold tangerines’: keep your eyes out for another serving

cold tangerines: celebrating the extraordinary nature of everyday life

By Shauna Niequist

Zondervan, 2007

I needed this book.  I didn’t realize it until about halfway through, but “better late than never.”

Painted with a “Faberge egg” brush – stunning, exquisite and slightly outrageous – cold tangerines (lower-cased) is divided into four parts.  Stand-alone, first-person stories in each section include: spark, french class, carrying my own weight, lent and television, broken bottles, writing in pencil, island, and my favorite: old house.

Cold tangerines is spunky.  Profound one moment, whimsical the next.  At times you feel like you’re seated in the front row at the Improv; at others you’re sniffling and reaching for Kleenex.  In each section the author sweeps us into her everyday life with pithy observations about family, unexpecteds, writing, Africa, vacations, friends: “True friendship is a sacred, important thing, and it happens when we drop down into that deeper level of who we are, when we cross over into the broken, fragile parts of ourselves… Friendship is acting out God’s love for people in tangible ways…, an opportunity to act on God’s behalf in the lives of the people we’re close to.”

Maybe what I like best about cold tangerines is that the author is Real.  Genuine.  Humorous, hearty.  Disarmingly candid.  She’s flawed and knows it.  Niequist asks the tough questions and avoids the canned answers: “What if I’ve missed the cosmic bus to my best future because I was watching E!?”  The author has an “eyes open” storytelling style about babies, loss, vulnerability, disappointment, being overweight, motherhood, heart attacks, “the healing effects of a barbecue” and jealousy “like a house fire.”  The slice-of-life vignettes are Christian themed without being preachy or pompous.  They reflect an author who’s cracked and chipped.  Human and hopeful.  Daring.  Kinda kooky.  Someone I can relate to.

This book is crunchy and quirky.  As succulent as a cold tangerine on a scorching August afternoon.  Reading this book is like walking into a dark living room on your birthday, bummed that no one remembered, and having people in party hats jump out and yell, “Surprise!”

I’m keeping an eye out for another serving.


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‘Tsunami Essentials’: Some Things Can’t Be Replaced

I shot out of bed like a jack-in-the-box.  The jangling phone jolted me out of a deep sleep like a jackhammer biting a sidewalk.  It was 6:36 a.m. on March 11.

“Just let the answering machine get it,” husband Chris mumbled.  Something told me otherwise. I stumbled out of bed and grabbed the receiver with thoughts of throttling whoever was on the other end.

“Mom?”   I recognized son Sam’s voice.  “Mom!” he hollered again.  “Um… uh… what’s up, Sam?”

Get outta the house, now!

“You gotta get outta the house, now!”  Sam spent the night at a friend’s house and was phoning to tell us that a tsunami was imminent due to a huge earthquake in Japan.

I was wide awake in a heartbeat.  “What are you talking about?”

I vaguely recalled Chris mentioning something about a major earthquake in Japan as he crept into bed the night before, but didn’t give it much thought.  Then I remembered.  We live on the coast of Washington State, a short walk from the water.  Blue and white “Tsunami Evacuation Route” signs pepper the highways like chiles in salsa.  Like most people, I never paid them much attention.  Until March 11.

The first wave

“The first wave is supposed to hit just after 7:00 a.m.” Sam said.  He and I conferred on a future meeting site and hung up.  The entire conversation lasted less than a minute.  I jostled Chris awake, ran upstairs to wake up sons Josiah (11) and Nathan (17), and flew into the kitchen.  We had less than 20 minutes to get out.

Whether the tsunami alert was “for real” or not wasn’t open to debate.  If it wasn’t and we evacuated, then it was “no harm, no foul” and little more than a delayed start to the school day.  But if it was and we ignored it?  We live just a few miles off the infamous Cascadia Subduction Zone.  We weren’t going to risk it.

“Shall we take one car or two?” I queried Chris.

“Better take both.”

Dancing Through Your Head

“Why?”  I was thinking about gas prices.  Funny the things the dance through your head under pressure.  “Because if a tsunami does hit, we’ll lose one.” Chris said.  “Besides, we need both cars so you can take the dog.”

Oh, yeah.  The dog.

Chris tuned in the local news as he threw on his clothes.   We sped around the house, assembling “essentials.”  But what’s “essential” in an emergency?

What should I take?

“Mom, what should I take?” Josiah appeared in the kitchen looking pale.  My mind raced:  What do you take – and for how long?  A day or two?  A week?  A month?  Deep breaths.  Calm down.  Think.  Pray.

Light and fast headed the list.  I directed the boys to quickly pack a couple changes of clothes and any valuables they could fit in their pockets. Josiah brought his sleeping bag.  “Don’t bother with suitcases” I said, tossing plastic grocery bags.  “Use these.  And make sure you grab a jacket with a hood” I added as rain lanced leaden skies.

Besides toiletries, I threw together a couple T-shirts, a sweatshirt, and jeans.  I also tossed soap, shampoo, toothpaste and brush in one bag and a washcloth and towels and the dog’s leash and bowl in another.  Canned goods.  A twelve-pack of toilet paper.  Josiah’s pocketknife and compass.  Paper plates and plastic utensils. (We forgot the hand sanitizer, prescription meds and can opener.)  Nathan dashed to the basement for bottled water, extra blankets, the cooler, First Aid gear and our “emergency kit” which we put together when we lived in southern California, the land of earthquakes.  The four of us and the dog were packed and out the door in 15 minutes.

Careening in a crunch

Curious the things that careen through one’s mind in a crunch.  What should we bring?  What to leave behind?  Items that were too heavy or too big to bring were no-brainers.  But what about family photos?  The hundreds of books in our personal library?  My mom’s silver service?  The emerald earrings Chris gave me for our twenty-fifth anniversary?  Sam’s baseball trophies?  Nathan’s cross-country award?  Shall I call my step-mom and sister in San Diego?  Do we turn off the breaker box?  Shut off the main gas valve?

Plan B?

One thing we hadn’t counted on as we charged out of town was that the gates to the local cemetery, the highest site in town, might be locked.  They were.  Plan B?  Backtrack and hightail it inland to the local gun club, where we are members.  It’s several miles inland at a slight elevation.  The clubhouse itself abuts a hefty hill.  No water is available, but it offers a sturdy roof, a wood-burning stove and enough firewood to last for weeks.  Chris unlocked the gate.  Our breath exhaled in frosty plumes as we entered the clubhouse and unloaded “breakfast:” hard-boiled eggs, cheese sticks and chocolate chip cookies.

I wondered what the people of Japan might eat next, and when.  What “essentials” did they pack?  What or whom was left behind?

Chris got a fire going and we huddled around the wood stove as the dog flopped on the floor at our feet.  We monitored the local news by radio and then phoned the Emergency Management people who indicated an “all clear.”

As it turned out, our tsunami sprint was much ado about nothing.  We returned home about 90 minutes after our mad dash out, feeling a bit sheepish.  Most of our neighbors never even budged.  “Consider this a practice run,” Chris chirped as we unloaded and went inside to brush our teeth.

What can’t be replaced

Viewing tsunami footage later, we tried to wrap our heads around the devastation.  And couldn’t.  We also decided that when it comes to tsunami alerts, discretion is the better part of valor, and some things matter more than others.  At crunch time we grabbed each other, the dog, favorite books, hastily packed bags, food and water.  I also snatched our wedding album, the kids’ baby books and photos of the grandparents.  Some things can’t be replaced.


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Write Away: Attitude (Part 1 of 5)

“Everywhere I have sought rest and not found it, except sitting in a corner by myself with a book”

– Thomas a Kempis

Most people think “writer” is a noun and “writing” is a verb.  Not quite.  Writing is a talent, a skill.  Writing well is a gift.  But it’s also a calling, every bit as much of a calling as is the “call” to be a pastor, missionary, doctor, lawyer, butcher, baker, or candlestick maker.  What kind of “calling” is writing – and how do you know if you have it?  Let’s start with some of the differences between “Writer Wannabees” and “Real Writers.”

It’s not unusual for Writer Wannabees to fancy themselves the Real Deal.  Lord love ‘em, these are the folks who dabble in, play at, or “write” bi-annually, “whether they need to or not.”  Their version of “writer” is anyone who can bang out a few semi-coherent sentences or pages to wow the fam or undiscriminating friends and associates.  Some think their attempt at cranking out the next great American novel earns them the appellation.  Or their degree in English.  Or landing a book contract.  Or getting published.

I beg to differ.

Call me old-fashioned, but my version of Real Writer – as opposed to hobbyists or the occasional, haphazard Writer Wannabee – doesn’t have so much to do with talent as it does inspiration, motivation, and attitude.

More later, so stay tuned.

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A Little Lowder * Twitter * Facebook


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History Meets Humor in “That’s Amore!” (Some ‘good eats,’ too!)

That's Amore! Life With an Italian Father, Mother, and Uncles

“I’m not Italian, but my Uncle Joe Olivieri was – and how” says award-winning author Kristine Lowder, of her late uncle’s memoirs, That’s Amore! Life With an Italian Father, Mother, and Uncles. Says Lowder, who edited and published the Olivieri manuscript in collaboration with family, “That’s Amore! is the story of an ‘ordinary’ Italian family in an extraordinary era, told by an extraordinary man.”

Brimming with historical anecdotes and tongue-in-cheek mischief, Life With sweeps the dust off a bygone era with accounts of Ellis Island immigration, grape buying excursions, an old-fashioned Italian wedding, an exploding back porch, mora games, skate keys, godparents and work at the “Dodgemaina” auto plant in Detroit, Michigan. Told in Joe Olivieri’s own words, “Life With” includes a delightful “you are there” stroll down his beloved Belvidere Street and a “meet and greet” with the neighbors – “one of whom was my Dad” – says editor Kristine Lowder, the author’s niece. Features more than a dozen recipes from the family kitchen.

That’s Amore! Life With an Italian Father, Mother and Uncles opens in Abruzzi, Italy in 1890 and reveals a rare and winsome look at a close-knit family through World War I, the Roaring Twenties, the Depression, meat rationing and World War II, the turbulent sixties and beyond. This candid, snug memoir features a unique blend of humor and pathos flavored with warmth, kindness and a generous dose of familial love.  Lowder adds, “Editing Joe Olivieri’s manuscript and preparing it for publication was a joy, as was my uncle. After reading his exuberant, engaging memoir, I’m putting in for honorary paisanship!”

That’s Amore! Life With an Italian Father, Mother and Uncles is available in both paperback and as a digital download from Amazon.com.

About Kristine Lowder

An independent writing professional and creative consultant, Kristine Lowder is a multi-published author specializing in creative non-fiction, inspirational fiction and humor. Her byline has appeared in hundreds of publications as well as several anthologies including Whispers of Inspiration, Our Fathers Who Art in Heaven, and A Pixel-Perfect Christmas.  She’s authored 12 books to date and is a frequent contributor to numerous ezines and publications including Mutuality, A Long Story Short, FaithtoWrite, Heartwarmers and JournEzine.


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Laughing All the Way: 10 Tips for the Hilarity Highway

Being a freelance humorist has its benefits.  You can set your own schedule, show up for work in your jammies, or hammer down on raspberry white chocolate cheesecake whenever your feel like it.  One of the biggest perks of being your own boss – besides firing and rehiring yourself at will – is that you choose your own topics.  Today it’s humorous travel writing.

If you’re wondering how to connect travel and humor, you haven’t seen enough of Clark Griswold.  Let me illustrate with Easter on the O.P.  This delightful piece is an incredibly compelling narrative about a family hike on the Olympic Peninsula (excerpted from my soon-to-be bestseller, how I got to be 50 and other atrocities):

“The Heather Park-Lake Angeles Loop Trail is one of the premier day hikes on the Olympic Peninsula” gushes our handy-dandy trail guide.  “You’ll climb from deep forest to airy cliffs and pass a sapphire lake tucked in a snowy cirque.”

Doesn’t that sound delicious?  They left out the part about a trail so steep you have to be part mountain goat to navigate, sluicing down ice-clogged creeks, and traipsing through every type of debris, tangle foot and treacherous traipse known to humanity.

We strike out on this “premier day hike” and, Energizer-Bunny like, keep going and going and … Scrambling over downed logs.  Skittering over snow.  Crossing streams on foot bridges so narrow the chipmunks have to scamper sideways.

“Buck up, kids,” Snuggle Bunny chirps.  “It could be worse.  At least we have the trail all to ourselves.”

Of course we do.  Everyone with brains stayed home.

Temperatures are dropping by the minute.  Our breath exhales in frosty plumes.  The higher we climb, the colder it gets.

“I can’t feel my toes,” son Josiah whines.  “I can’t feel my nose,” complains Sam the other son.  We bribe them with Gatorade and enough Ho-Hos to buy stock in Hostess.

“Not to worry, kids.  Ya gotta love the great outdoors,” I huff and puff.  “Besides, it’s all part of the adventure.”

“Yeah, and it could be worse,” Snuggles chimes in cheerfully.  “Let’s be thankful it’s not snowing.”

Ten minutes later: it’s snowing.  And I don’t mean the light, feathery, wuss snow.  I’m talking the Real Deal.  Like someone just dumped a giant package of powdered sugar out of the sky. We slog on, punching through hip-deep drifts and floundering through terrain that’d give a Yetti cause for pause.

Is this place great, or what?

That’s just for starters.  With a little curmudgeonly creativity, you can turn any outdoor expedition into sheer misery, too.  Here are ten tips to take on the hilarity highway:

1.                  Start strong. Don’t expect your audience to stay with you into the backstretch if you haven’t corralled ‘em at the starting gate.  You get a nano-second to saddle an editor’s interest, spur them into the next paragraph and gallop to the finish like Secretariat.  Take that bit in your teeth and surge ahead strong.

2.                  Be unique. No one wants to read the millionth version of “It was a dark and stormy night.”  Even if it was.  Come up with something new.  Even if it kills you.  This is especially tricky if you’re writing about a well-worn tourist spot that hasn’t seen a drop in visitors since before the Ark landed.  So either make funeral arrangements now, or see Tip #3:

3.                  Keep it fresh. Readers gag on pre-chewed leftovers.  Angle for a unique angle.  Writing about the Grand Canyon?  Avoid words like “stunning,” “spectacular” and “gorgeous.”  They taste like milk that’s been left out since last Christmas.

4.                  Keep it original. Related to the brilliant tip above, don’t rehash the geology, geography, or donkey trails at the Grand Canyon.  Half the population of the Free World has beaten you to it.  Write about what happened when grandpa leaned over the railing for that chipmunk photo…

5.                  Select your target audience. Ask, “Who’s my main audience?  How do I want them to react to this piece?  What experience or expertise can I offer that will connect with my readers?”  Direct your writing toward a specific target rather than the entire world.

6.                  If you can’t or won’t target a specific audience for your next riotous romp, do what political pollsters do: shoot the stuffin’ out of everyone.  You’re bound to hit something.  (If you’re lucky, you might put a campaign commercial out of our misery.)

7.                  Write what you know or have experienced first-hand. If you’re a childless senior, writing trail tips for parents of toddlers may not be your best bet.  If you’ve never ventured south of the Mason-Dixon line, you may want to forego that piece on the best B&B in Cajun country or the tastiest hush puppies in Atlanta.

8.                  Know your potential publisher. Study their product.  What kind of tone, style, and topics find their way into print?  Make sure you pitch the right article to the right publisher.  Trotting out Hamlet and Ophelia for a droll stroll through Grit and Grunge magazine may not be a great idea.

9.                  Submission guidelines are road maps.  Follow them to the letter. If a 700 word maximum, double-spaced, sent in the body of an email is specified, DO NOT submit a 5,000 word, single-spaced magnum opus as an attachment and stalk off in a blue funk when it’s rejected.

10.              Finish well. When wrapping up your latest masterpiece, don’t just stop.  This leaves readers with concussions.  They feel like they’ve been dropped on their heads.  Close any loops and swoop onto the tarmac with a smooth landing, not one that requires a crash truck.

When it comes to travel writing, tired tedium is worse than crossing the English Channel without your Dramamine.  So ride that funny bone until it laughs out loud. Trust me, it’s a lot more fun than firing yourself.

A Little Lowder * Twitter * Facebook

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Up next:

A five-part mini-series: Write Away…