Risk

I fully admit that I love to gamble. I like to take risks, but am very good at controlling them. So if I’m headed to Vegas or go to Blackhawk, Colorado, I take the amount of cash I’m willing to lose, and if and when it’s gone, it’s gone, and I’m done. That means I also have to pace myself so I don’t blow it all in the first ten minutes I’m there.

I don’t play the “big people” games—craps, blackjack, poker, roulette; I’m a dollar slot machine kind of gal. I don’t like to think hard when I’m having fun, and playing the slots only requires the push of a button or the pull of a handle. Instead, I can people watch, or talk with the person next to me, or let my mind wander into dreamland where I win the huge jackpot. Besides, I don’t know how to play the “big people” games, so I tend to stay away from them.

My risk taking goes into other parts of my life as well. I love to trail run, and have met up with mountain lions, coyotes, bulls, skunks, and moose. I love to play around in the Forex market, trading currencies. I love to challenge myself to do new things that intrigue me.

Risk-taking spills over into my writing. My risks may seem silly to some, but they’re a big deal to me. For example, my main genres are science fiction and mysteries. I’m not a romance writer, but the last few books that I’ve written have romantic elements to them. I had to stretch myself and go where I’ve never dared before, and in the back of my mind, I kept wondering what Sister Jenkins, a former Sunday school teacher, would think. It’s not explicit sex by any means, but just the little bit I wrote had me worried.

However, if I never take the risk, I’ll never know what I can do. I’ve been rolling around a screenplay in my mind, so maybe that’s the next gamble I’ll take.

Or maybe I’ll learn the “big people” games…

The Best Gifts

My dad's birthday is today. He has been gone for almost 3 years, and it's hard to believe that so much time has passed. Some days it seems like his passing was very recent, while other days it seems like it has been a long time.

 

I dedicated my first novel to my dad, Joe Hirase, because he was an incredible reader. He taught me, through example, that reading is one of the best ways to spend time. I've never felt guilty about taking time to read, even when there were several other things to do. Every day, he read the newspaper from the beginning all the way to the end before diving into a book.

 

He loved Westerns the most, and when I worked at B. Dalton Bookseller, I filled his library. He his second love was mysteries, then thrillers, then historical novels, and then whatever else was available. If I look at his books that we still have, they are falling apart. Most of them are held together by rubber bands because he read them several times.

 

My dad enjoyed reading his books, then sharing them with others. He kept the ones he wanted to read again, but all the others he boxed up and took them to the assisted living center where my grandmother had lived. Every time he went, the staff would make an announcement to the residents that “Joe brought more books”, and then they would tell us how much they appreciated his donations.

 

I have a hard time parting with books. But my dad love to share, so maybe I should go through my bookshelf, and see what I too could share. Books are the best gifts!