Sunday, June 29, 2014

Taking Time

A friend of mine posted on Facebook this week, "Some days I just don't feel like writing a novel." I can relate. It's days like these, when I am exhausted in mind, body, and spirit, that inspiration, not to mention motivation, utterly fails to make an appearance. Frustrating on days when I am due to write not just one but two blog posts.

This week has been an interesting one.  My husband has been out of the country for three weeks. Work has been insane since I was out of town at a conference last week. This week, when I've had to work, parent, as well as do both his household jobs and mine, all I want to do is curl up in bed with a glass of wine and a book. For an entire day. (Maybe I should make it a bottle?) Thinking of something to write about has fallen near the bottom of the to-do list. 

In addition, this week I received my very first rejection from an editor. I'm okay with it, I truly am, but even though I suspected it was coming, it stung. On the other hand, I also got a request for a full this week--thanks entirely to the kindness and generosity of a lovely person whom I have never met but who believes in me anyway. I now have to get off my ass and finish the last few pages of edits and send it off before she changes her mind. Refer above to the comments regarding exhaustion. But it's good. 

Some days no one feels like writing a novel, or working, or mowing the lawn, or doing the laundry. The hardest thing about writing, at least for me, isn't finding inspiration or doing the actual writing--it's the management of everything else in my life. It's carving out time for myself, to take care of myself, and I am spectacularly bad at that. 

So I am resolved to take some time for myself today. The house is clean enough, the laundry is--mostly--done. Might have to do something about the lawn, but I'll call that exercise.

How do you take time for yourself?




Sunday, June 15, 2014

Intersections

The other day as I was driving around town with the kid, he asked what people did before there were traffic lights. I replied that policemen helped to direct traffic, but honestly, I was just guessing. That got me thinking: when were traffic lights invented, and when and where were they first used?

Truly, I was delighted with the answer, and if you regularly read this blog, you will understand why.

The very first traffic light was invented in 1868 by John Peake Knight, a superintendent of the South-Eastern Railway. Streets in larger English cities, primarily London, had become terribly congested by the 1860s. As trains became the primary vehicles for transport of goods and people across the country, carriages were increasingly used to get both goods and people to and from the trains. As the English middle class and its wealth grew, more people bought their own carriages, putting more of them on the street.

Poster issued by Metropolitan Police, 1868.



The signal invented by Knight closely resembled a railway signal; a pillar with a light on the top, and semaphore arms, operated by a policeman. It was erected in December 1868 near the House of Commons, at the intersection of Great George and Bridge Streets in Westminster. Unfortunately, just three weeks after it was installed, a gas leak caused it to explode, severely injuring its operator. The light was declared a safety hazard and removed, and London didn't see another traffic light until the 1920s.


Cleveland, Ohio, 1914.
Source: The Motorist







US Patent 1,951,666, Inventor J.B. Hoge.
Source: uspto.gov. 










Traffic lights as we know them today were invented in the U.S. The first electric traffic signal was erected in 1914 in Cleveland, Ohio, at the intersection of Euclid Avenue (of course) and East 105th Street. The signal consisted of eight lights, four red and four green; red, of course, meant "stop," and green meant "proceed." Each pair of lights was mounted on a corner post, and operated manually.


US Patent 1,475,024, Inventor Garrett Morgan
Source: uspto.gov.





But it was Garrett Morgan who patented the design that was the precursor to the traffic signal we use today. He was born in Kentucky and eventually moved to Cleveland, where he and his brother saved a number of workers in a tunnel collapse under Lake Erie, using a gas mask of his own invention. The first African-American man to own a car in Cleveland, he developed and patented the first three-way traffic signal in 1923. He eventually sold the rights to General Electric for $40,000. Just before his death in 1963, he was honored by the U.S. government for his invention, and recognized for his role as a hero in the Lake Erie disaster. He is buried in Lake View Cemetery.

Sources:

http://www.victoriacountyhistory.ac.uk/explore/items/westminster-road-semaphore 
The Victorianist: The Disastrous Debut of the World's First Traffic Lights
This Day in History: August 5
The Guardian: Nooks and Crannies
http://invent.answers.com/transportation/j-p-knight-and-the-first-traffic-light
http://allthingsclevelandohio.blogspot.com/2008/03/cleveland-birthplace-of-first-electric.html
http://www.biography.com/people/garrett-morgan-9414691
http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=1311


P.S. This being the first Father's Day since my dad passed away in January, I didn't have the heart to do a post on Father's Day. But if you're interested, I found a fascinating post on the history of the day at http://www.history.com/topics/holidays/fathers-day. Father's Day, it says, was slow to catch on. "As one historian writes, they 'scoffed at the holiday's sentimental attempts to domesticate manliness with flowers and gift-giving, or they derided the proliferation of such holidays as a commercial gimmick to sell more products--often paid for by the father himself.'"

Happy Father's Day, everyone. May you be able to spend it with someone you love.


Sunday, June 1, 2014

In Which I Have Very Little to Say

This morning before breakfast I spent about an hour and a half writing a lengthy, thoughtful post to weigh in on the latest round of romance bashing sparked by a recent article in the New Republic. I reviewed some of the responses--in the Washington Post, Kirkus Reviews, and Eloisa James' interview on vulture.com--but when all was said and done I decided not to let anyone read it. Once I got my annoyance at the New Republic piece off my chest, I realized I had said everything I wanted to say on the subject in my last post.

I am weary of the argument, and extremely tired of listening to people who haven't even bothered to read the books they denigrate. And so I will bow out of the discussion, close my browser windows, kick back on the patio in the sun, and bury my nose in a book.


About Me

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Clevelanders are tough, a bit cynical, and just a little crazy, and Marin McGinnis is no exception. She writes tales of Victorian-era romance. When she's not chasing after big dogs or watching small children skate around Ohio hockey rinks, you can find her hanging out here, on her group blog at http://throughheartshapedglasses.com/, on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/MarinMcG, or on Twitter @MarinMcGinnis.

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