Enought about black and white colors. I have always been drawn to shades of brown, green, and blues. However, for this cover I have been considering a purple background and yellow letters. I can't come to a final decision so I thought I would go to the book store and see if any colors stand out. Just before I left I told Tom I have come to a decision, the background is going to be yellow and the letters red unless I find some color more appealing at the bookstore.
After going up and down many the aisles a book caught my eye. The colors are yellow and red, Tom's name and my maiden name Wolfe. This has to be a sign. What I don't know. Of course I had to buy the book. I tried to read it to find a clue, however, I don't think it's his best writing. Some others tried to read it and couldn't get past the first few pages. There just has to be a reason I was drawn to yellow and red before I left for the book store and this book was sitting on the shelf with our names on it in bright red letters
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Friday, June 21, 2013
Can't seem to decide on a color for the cover of my book.
There are just too many colors. Here is a story from my book concerning black and white.
One Saturday afternoon, Tom asked, “Will you pick me up a quart of white and a quart of black outdoor paint when you are out shopping today? I want to paint the porch railing and the posts.” I dropped everything and rushed to the store! I didn’t even change my clothes or comb my hair. It was early spring, so I had to get back quickly with that paint before those infamous birds started chirping and put him under their spell.
When I arrived at the hardware store, I looked up and down all the paint aisles and couldn’t find the white or the black paint. I went over to the clerk who was mixing paint. He was very busy. There were many customers waiting with their paint chips. I patiently waited for a chance to ask him to point me in the direction of the paint I needed. While I was waiting, I thought, “I’m so glad I’m not getting paint that needs mixing. I have to get home with the paint before the mood leaves Tom.”
Finally, the clerk came near me and I said, “Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction of the white outdoor paint. He said, “It has to be mixed.” I said, “No, I want white paint.” He said, “It has to be mixed.” I said, “You mix white paint?” He said, “Yes.” I said, “What about black?” He said, “It needs to be mixed also.” So I got in the long line of people waiting to get their paint mixed wondering how in the world they would mix white, and exactly what colors are used to make it. As I watched him mix the colors of purple, turquoise, pink, and chartreuse, I felt a little silly waiting for white and black. I was sure he was mistaken and my paint was over on a shelf somewhere. The whole time I waited in line not one person ordered white or black paint. The longer I waited in line, the more anxious I got because I knew that Tom was doomed to fall under the spell of those chirping birds any minute. I just had to get this paint home before that happened. Finally it was my turn and the clerk said, “May I help you?” I said, “I want a quart of white latex outdoor paint.” He asked, “What shade of white?” I said, “White.” He said, “What shade of white?” I said, “Well, do you know white? I want white!” He again asked, “What shade of white?” I said, “You know ‘off white’ and ‘white’? Well, I want white!” He said, “Then you must want White White.” I said, “Yes, I want white!” He left and got a can from a shelf and put it on a computerized machine and pushed some buttons and waited a while. When the machine stopped he brought me my mixed white paint to inspect—sure enough, it was white. I said, “Okay.” He put the lid on and put it on another machine and asked me if I wanted anything else I said, “I want a quart of black latex outdoor paint.” So he asked, “What shade of black?” I said, “Black!” He said, “What shade of black?” I said, “Black—just black plain black, black!” He said, “Black is hard to mix. It’s difficult to get the right color mixture.” I said, “Just black!” He left and got a can from a shelf again and put it on the computer machine.
Before he pushed the buttons to mix my black paint, he went over to the mixer and handed me my white paint. As I started to put the quart of paint into my cart the lid flew into the air and the White White paint splattered all over my hand, shoe, purse, and the cart. I shouted to the clerk, “Yo! You must have made this White White paint too bright bright because the lid flew off and the paint splattered everywhere! He immediately got some cleaner and started to clean the floor and counter. I said, “Ah, excuse me, but could I have some cleaner for my hand here?” He said, “Oh.” After he cleaned the floor and counter and I cleaned myself, he mixed my black paint and then another quart of White White paint. This experience was definitely a conspiracy! Mixing white and black paint—I never heard of such a thing!
When I finally got home, I was surprised to see that Tom was still ready to paint the railing. He opened the black quart of paint only to find that it was dark brown! He couldn’t use it because it would clash with the black shutters and trim. So, I told Tom, “Start painting the white posts while I take the paint and exchange it.” He said, “I can’t paint the posts white until I paint the railing black.” I didn’t ask why because I was not in the mood for Lally Logic. Then he said, “Besides, you can’t take mixed paint back.” I said, “Watch me!” Now I was angry! I had already spent more time on purchasing this paint than it would have taken Tom to paint the whole porch. I could feel those birds watching Tom’s every move, and I knew that they would start chirping their spell over him at any minute, so I had only a short time to exchange the paint. Off I went. I went directly to the service department. I was firm but polite when I explained the whole situation. The lady simply took the dark brown paint and said, “Go to the paint department and get your black paint and come back here for an even exchange.”
There was a different person in the paint department, and when he asked, “What color do you want?” a part of me expected him to point me in the direction of white and black paint on the shelf when I said, “Black.” But he went to a shelf and took off a can and put it on the computer and pushed some buttons and mixed the black paint. While he was mixing my black paint, I glanced behind me and there was a color sample section with all of the different shades of red, blue, green, yellow, purple, and any color you could think of. I was shocked when I saw a display of the shades of white! There were one hundred and forty-four shades of white. I counted each and every one of them! I could not believe my eyes! No wonder that man kept asking me what shade of white I wanted. The display had been directly behind me and I hadn’t seen it. I never dreamed this many shades of white existed. I hope I never get to the point where I need to ponder over these one hundred and forty-four shades of white when I need more white paint. If this is a conspiracy to confuse, it worked well, because I am definitely confused.I finally got my black paint and started home. I thought, “Will he still be in the mood to paint when I get home? It has taken me four hours to get this quart of black paint. I pulled into the driveway and there was no sign of Tom. As I got out of the car, I could hear the faint sound of birds chirping, and, when I walked to the patio, there was Tom sleeping in his lounge chair, and the birds were chirping in full melody. I knew he was under their spell for the rest of the season, so I placed the paint on a shelf in the garage for another year.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
I made all the corrections from my Editorial Evaluation. I sent in the pictures for the center of the book. Tom is almost ready to send in the cover. I am still deciding on the colors. Mile, my son-in-law, is going over the book for a final editing. I have only four more chapters to edit.