Today in The Bradbury Challenge

I Ranted on Facebook.

I had a moment yesterday…

According to the media, it seems the candidates have only two ways to appeal to women: through their children and their bodies. What if you don’t have children? What if you love your body? How about appealing to me as an entrepreneur? As a citizen concerned with economic growth over the next few years? How about you stop pandering to my heart and see what happens when you appeal to my brain?

I turned on CNN for less than one minute! One minute! And, someone congratulated the Hilary campaign for appealing to women by asking them to think about their children’s future(s)! As if mothers need to be reminded, and father need not be. Fear mongering is apparently the only way the news and politicians know how to talk to us. Rape, rape, rape, abortion, abortion, abortion, thigh gap, big butt, big boobs, have kids, don’t have kids, which freakin’ bathroom is the right one…what the hell is happening?!

I love our country. I do. I love journalism. I do. The world is not all bad. The country is not all bad. I won’t feel the rage I felt earlier all day, because I am grown up and can choose to not listen to the crap. I can seek out the facts just like all the other adults and make an educated decision. But I really want to trust the news. I want the news to be there for me and not there against me and my people. By my people, I mean human beings.

A few things I want to clear up:

When I say “according to the media”, I am talking about big media, and, yes, most media (all of those commas are appropriate).

I believe there are some citizen journalist that have taken more care in reporting election coverage than some of the big boys and girls in media.  Though, I do not know who…

Please post your favorite political blogs and author sites that post FACTS in the comments.  

Also, I have a moment in the text above starting with “rape, rape, rape” and so on.  Rape is a crime.  Abortion is not.  Thigh gap, big butt, and big boobs can be attained by surgeries which are not controversial at all, but abortion is the bad guy even when the baby was conceived during a violent crime.  Hum.

Man, the bathroom thing…Are we separating people of color from white people again?  It clearly was not a good idea the first time.  Segregating gay, queer, and/or transgender people is an equally bad idea.

You know, we current have our first (of what I am sure will be many) highly qualified, black president.  Do think that is because black people were treated poorly (to put it lightly) for years and years thus making them inclined to work harder for their children’s education and character?  Do you think that is why our country has seen great black men and women rise up time and time again molding this country into something bigger and better than bitterness, racism, and themselves?

Maybe we should have transgender bathrooms to ensure that we someday have highly qualified, transgender political voices.


I ranted again.  And the purpose of this was to put an intelligent voice on my rant…not to continue it.

This is the great human blessing and flaw:  passion.  To be passionate about a thing moves a person to do two things:  tear down and build up.

Tearing down one campaign also tears you down.  Building up a campaign builds you up.

It is easy to get behind rants and pep rallies.  It is easy to make the other party (Not political in this case.  I simply mean group.) look stupid when you believe you are on the side of the angels.

But, you know what, someone over there believes that they are on the side of the angels.

We need cool, intelligent minds when talking about these topics.  We need to talk to each other.  Each. Other.

The other is not those who agree with you.  The other is the Trump supporter two tables down or the Hilary supporter a couple of seats over.  That’s right.

You cannot rant to each other and get things done.  You cannot just wait for your turn to speak.  You need to listen.  You need to talk without trying to change each other’s minds, but to instead understand each other’s minds.

You cannot blame the media for making you feel small.  There is a lot of media.  You are a grown up.  You can dig deeper.  You can have better conversations than what is on the news.

Yes, I am talking to myself, but I am also talking to my friends, family, and neighbors.  Go.  Listen.  Talk.  Be bigger.




Today in the Bradbury Challenge

I was in Barnes & Knoble today, and I thought it was the perfect opportunity to get my Bradbury Challenge out of the way.  Unfortunately, I got distracted and only managed to read a poem in full in the store.

Poem – The History of One Tough Motherf***** by Charles Bukowski

Short Story – Where I Live by Kurt Vonnegut

Essay – none today

Article – Obituary: Two men who radiated happiness in The Economist


Bradbury’s Daily Duties

Ray Bradbury suggests that writers read one short story, one essay, and one poem a day.  I am going to give this a go.

I am going to give this a go and see how it treats me.

To his list, however, I am adding an article about a current event.

To Find the Pieces

To find the pieces, I simply typed 100 of the best short stories and clicked the first link.  Then, I clicked the first stories on the list.

I did the same for essays and poems.

For articles, I am reading from The Economist and clicking on their top story.

Today I’ve Read

Short Story – The Story of an Hour

Essay – Attitude

Poem – Dream within a Dream

Article – Melania Trump’s Excruciating Blunder



A Poem for All of My Writing Friends

Writing Voices

Am I schizophrenic?

I most certainly am not.

Who the hell was that?!

-Barbara Burgess



Writing Prompts are for Kids

I did a Google search for writing prompt websites.  It gave me this one among many:


You pick a category.


The site asks for your name.

Easy.  I’m Barbara.  Next!

Then, it asks what grade you are.

Clearly, I put I was in 4th to 6th grade, because mature.

Then, you get a pull a lever to make the prompt machine go.

Spin, you monster!  Spin!

The prompt I was given?  I thought you’d never ask!

The prompt goes like this:

Describe the personality traits of a radioactive translator who befriends a race of mutant rabbits.

 You better believe I am currently 500 words into this!

Why Does No One Like The Books that I LOVE

9781782114079.jpgLast year, I read the most remarkable book.  Maybe you’ve heard of it:  The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber.

This book did everything for me.  It made me laugh.  It made me cry.  I questioned life on multiple levels due to this book.  It was beautifully written.  Raw in place which are normally soft and precious. Delicate would it could have just been strange.

Yet, everyone that I’ve asked to read this book can’t finish it.  They just can’t.  They don’t like it at all.

What is not to love about a Christian missionary travel to another planet to preach the gospels to a bunch of aliens?!

You know who doesn’t like this book?  Savages!

Okay, that line about the savages was a joke, but seriously.  I have no idea why my mother didn’t love this book.

Also, I can’t get anyone on board with The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera.


Maybe, it’s just me.





I remember playing outside barefoot when I was a little girl.  I remember this with a twinge of PTSD creeping through my feet and up into my spine.  Why?  Because I remember getting stung.  I remember this happening frequently.

When I wasn’t being stung by the bees, I was lying on my stomach watching the white clover flowers giggle as the bees landed on them.

I don’t remember when I stopped seeing the bees, but I do remember seeing less and less.

As I was writing at the picnic table a few weeks ago, I noticed a bee on a white clover flower.  Then, I noticed another.  And, another.

This was the first time I had seen more than one bee at a time in years!  I sat there and watched them dance on the flowers.

It was all very nostalgic and calming.  I imagine this was mostly because I was wearing proper shoes, so I had no need to worry about accidentally getting stung.



My Production Calendar Is My Boss

On Monday, May 1, I will begin my production calendar.

I have made a list of writing projects that is currently 34 items long.  The projects include fiction, scifi, non-fiction, YA fantasy, and children’s books.

Choosing one item to work on was hard.  Very hard.  But I have chosen to write book one of a series that I have planned.

I will release more information about this book and all of the others on my projects as I work.

I have chosen a book for which I do not have the “great American novel” aspiration.  I did this for a couple of reasons.

1) I want to finish this book in a timely fashion.

I have two books that I have been working on for five years.  Yes.  Five whole freaking years.  Many of my friends reading this know which two stories I am talking about and are embarrassed on my behalf for taking this long.

The truth is that I am aiming at literature for these books.  Great American Novel aspirations.  Big time.

After I get a good catalogue of books under my belt, I will most like spend six whole months focused purely on a crappy first draft of one of these stewing stories.  Then, I will spend another six months making it ready for the reading world.

2) I want this first book to be less important to me personally.

This certainly doesn’t mean that I don’t care about the story I’ve chosen.  I care about it a lot, but in a different way.

The story that I’ve chosen to tell is entertaining.  Purely.  There are psychics, murder, and cops galore!  Definitely, genre fiction.  This makes this project a bit more fun and lot less work.

Basically, it is like this:  When I am writing this project, I am not worried about Hemingway’s ghost laughing hysterically at me around the Great Dead Writers Water Cooler.

For more measurable writing information such as wordcount, marketing, publishing, tools, and things such as that, you might want to follownotnowimwriting on Twitter and follow theNotNowImWriting blog.

Day 1

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

I have always hated that quote, but sitting here looking at my word count log on the first day of my day-job-free life, I can’t think of any other way to sum up how I feel.

Word count:  832

Last Week of School


School is code for Day Job.


On Friday, I will be leaving my day job to pursue writing full-time.  


In 2015, I started a blog called Not Now. I’m Writing.  As blogs go, it was successful.  I posted on it.  People read it.


I put the blog down when I got too busy to keep up with it.  I took on a day job while freelance writing and teaching yoga.  


As I am itching my way out of the day job and back into writing and teaching full swing, I am going to use Not Now. I’m Writing. to keep up with daily word counts, writing resources that I’ve found useful, and more of the business and technical aspects of my writing life.

 If you’re into that kind of thing, you can follow the blog by clicking the picture.  If you aren’t interested, don’t click the picture.  


Boom.  Easy stuff.