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	<title>Betty Underground</title>
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		<title>A watched pot never boils.</title>
		<link>http://www.bettyunderground.com/2011/06/a-watched-pot-never-boils/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bettyunderground.com/2011/06/a-watched-pot-never-boils/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 12 Jun 2011 10:30:02 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Betty Underground</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Discipline looks different for everyone. What looks like screwing around could be creativity in motion. I once managed a team of writers. Some of them adopting the trade for the first time, a few trained professionals, and at least one member of the &#8216;look-at-that-shiny-thing-over-there&#8217; generation. Anyone else would think he had A.D.D., or was mastering [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Splashing Around</title>
		<link>http://www.bettyunderground.com/2010/02/splashing-around/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Feb 2010 13:32:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Betty Underground</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[For me, running and writing are like shoes and socks; one without the other only gets you so far. When my body is in motion my mind soars. My heart is pumps oxygen and clear thoughts through my veins.  </p><P>
My approach has been to sit on my experiences for a few years. It's fair to assume that I needed to disconnect from the emotion of them completely before I had a perspective that I felt I could write from. I'm an "in over my head" girl. A free-faller who waits until the last possible second to pull the ripcord. Jumping into the deep-end with both feet and worrying about how to get to safety only after I've exhausted myself. It looks reckless, but it's just living. I take risks and in return I get those breathless moments we should all measure our life by. I wear my emotions on my sleeve and the only way I've known to protect myself is to take them off and put them in a box on a shelf. I don't erase, or try to forget them, I just set them aside until I'm ready to remember them. Far away from the moments they happened in, and while still emotional, I'm able to do them justice having had time to process them. Filling in the blanks is the most fun; you sort of get to rewrite history and call it storytelling. ]]></description>
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		<title>Chasing Inspiration</title>
		<link>http://www.bettyunderground.com/2010/01/chasing-inspiration/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bettyunderground.com/2010/01/chasing-inspiration/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 18 Jan 2010 17:06:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Betty Underground</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Scribing]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Every writer has their approach. Maybe it's a discipline, an outline, a deadline, a loosely woven story, or completely shooting from the hip.

I have a mild case of OCD, type A personality and all, which would stand to reason that I'd be an outline writer and deadline setter; even scheduling time to put words to paper. I'm not. I'm more of the Oscar to my everyday Felix. One-liners scribbled on pieces of paper, shoved in my purse, my wallet, the pocket of my car door. Blog entries with a single paragraph. Journals with 1/4 of a page filled. Notes spattered about the various iPhone apps I have to help keep me organized. Then I wait for the inspiration to hit. Nothing structured about that approach. 

Occasionally, I'm asked for advice about how to write.]]></description>
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		<title>Cherry Colored Funk</title>
		<link>http://www.bettyunderground.com/2008/09/cherry-colored-funk/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bettyunderground.com/2008/09/cherry-colored-funk/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 05 Sep 2008 22:35:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Betty Underground</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Scribing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://69.73.186.10/~bettyund/?p=785</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[They know me as a city girl. A surfer girl. A girl in high heels. A girl in flip-flops. Traversing the gap between boutique hotels and beach bonfires. I was born and raised in Los Angeles. The concrete jungle and the sandy beaches. Venice in the 70&#8242;s was a community of stoners. Some of them [...]]]></description>
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