NYC Writers Retreat, Day 2

The view from last year’s Grand Lake retreat:

Grand Lake Docks

Fences

The view from this year’s NYC retreat:

Plip Plip Plop

Umbrellaless

Not the most pleasant retreat weather here in New York today, but the storms are working hard to keep me inside and writing. I love listening to the rain on the street, the shush of the cars, the occasional laughing scream as someone who forgot her umbrella runs for cover. The thunder rattles the windows, and though I have to keep my computer unplugged during the lightning show, I do love hearing the sky fall.

Last night, I had the A/C on in the bedroom and started hearing noises. I know it was probably rain and thunder, but in the moment, I was pretty sure someone was trying to break in (despite the fact that this is a doorman building and someone would basically have to scale the wall and smash a window to enter without my permission). You know how it is when you’re staying in a new place—you have to readjust to all the new creaks, moans, groans, thumps, and rattles that differ in every home and don’t seem to show themselves until the late evening. I was jolted awake in two-minute intervals until about 5:30 this morning, so I’m getting a late start today. But I’m expecting the writing to go well and my sleep to come a bit easier later.

Better than being stuck out there, cold and umbrella-less!

Stormy Weather Five

In which I attempt to relate (however tangentially) five events under the banner of bad weather, give a nod to my fascination with storms, and blow the dust off my June blog drought.

1. Happy birthday, Flurfy!

Flurfy

Last week we took a trip out to Coney Island to watch the Brooklyn Cyclones in celebration of our friend Flurfy’s1 birthday. The Cyclones suffered an American-as-apple-pie BEATdown from the Staten Island Yankees, but the evening was redeemed when I got to pose with the mascot (whom I’d been secretly admiring all night from a distance, especially when he got to dance with the ketchup and mustard puppet people during the 7th inning stretch).

BFFs

Speaking of cyclones…

2. Crazy Storms Invade Queens, Welcome Sarah Home

Standing out on the balcony the other night, I looked to the sky for a reminder of what I love about the east coast. Stormy weather? Bring. It. On. People think that the weather in Denver is tumultuous, but that’s an urban geo-legend. The climate in Denver is similar to that of San Francisco, and even when it snows or rains, it generally passes or melts quickly2. And while rural areas surrounding Denver are prone to tornadoes and rapid onset lightening strikes, we didn’t get much of that in Littleton. There was only one night where Alex and I shot up in bed, debating for a good ten minutes on whether we should head down to the garage and sleep in the car. Instead, we just had our bed fitted with rubber tires.

Anyway, here in the Q-borough, the sky was like this big cauldron of magic soup, and then my mother-in-law said, “Bims, you’d better get inside, I think it’s a tornado.” Hearing this, I turned my camera upwards and captured this, and when it started swirling, I videoed it.

stormy swirly

swirly stormy

After that, we were treated to a crazy thunder storm. But alas, no tornadoes. Which is probably a good thing, because the closest I ever came to a tornado was in Hamburg, NY, circa 1985. A forceful gust of wind had snapped off a rather large tree branch, to which I responded, “Oh my god! I don’t want to die!!!!!” and practically knocked over my entire family, babies and pets included, running to the basement, where I stayed for a few long minutes until I was sure it was safe, and when I got back upstairs, everyone was just sitting around the dining room table looking at dinner menus as my life speed-racered before my eyes. My uncle looked up and said, “We’re ordering pizza, what kind do you want?”

Yes, I’m the one you want by your side during a dangerous situation. Oh, Auntie Em.

Speaking of a tumultuous tornado of a time…

3. Congratulations, Ash! You Survived H.S. in the Suburbs!

Caps

Our friend, Ash, just graduated from high school in Pennsylvania. High school graduations are a time of joy and celebration and pomp and circumstance, but for me, well, I think I’m still suffering a fifteen-year-long an allergic reaction. We did learn, however, that for the smartest representatives of the class of 2008—valedictorian and salutatorian, respectively—life is equally “a box of chocolates, like in Forest Gump” and “a blank Word document with a blinking cursor.” Ponder that, why don’t you!

*Blink blink blink*

Anyway, congrats, Ash. I may jest to camouflage my own youth-related anxieties, but we’re thrilled that you mostly survived it.

Wait, why are you crying?

Hugs

Speaking of high school torrents most of us would rather forget…

4. Hey There, Delilah

This is the real reason for my failed blog crop.

I’m working long hours (with alternating procrastinatory intervals) to wrap up my 2nd YA novel, so if I don’t answer your phone calls, emails, door-knocking, IMs, texts, smoke signals, blogs, taunts, catcalls, or Scrabulous nudges3, it’s so not you. It’s me and the little people who live in my book—specifically Delilah, who’s giving me a hard time because that’s just the way she is. Right now, Delilah is more important than you.

Speaking of thunderous shakedowns…

5. Earth to Humans: All Passengers Must Exit

Anyone else get the feeling Earth is trying to shake us off? Just wondering.


1. Not his real name. He was very adamant about that. Perhaps I over-expose him with my ever-prodding camera lens?

2. With one exception: our first week in our new CO apartment. We got socked with a blinding, freezy flood of a blizzard, trapping us inside for 4 days. I had just started my new job the day before, so I worked 1 day and then took a little snow-bound break. Hey, I like to ease into things. Anyway, trust me. Colorado weather? 99% sunshiney good times.

3. Okay, okay. I never ignore my Scrabulous turns. Especially when I’m winning. But I am ignoring mostly everything else, including sleep and personal hygiene. Which is why it’s best for everyone that I not answer the door, either.