Shanna Swendson's Blog, page 241
October 24, 2011
Peeking Through the Fog
It's a spooky, foggy morning, perfect for the start of Halloween week. I'm sitting at my desk, looking out the sliding glass doors that lead onto the balcony, where normally I have a view of the lawn, the street and the small office park across the street. Today I can see the lawn, the brick wall surrounding the lawn and some hazy outlines of the trees running along the street. The street is mostly visible because it's at ground level, but I can barely see the buildings across the street. It's better than it was when I first got up. Then I couldn't even see the street and there was no sign of the buildings across the street.
I've seen this episode of Haven, and it doesn't go well. I may not go outside today, in case the weather lady is really pissed off (she must be a St. Louis fan).
Not that I was planning a lot of excursions today. It was a busy choir weekend, with a dress rehearsal most of Saturday and then a performance Saturday night. It's a very challenging work to sing, and although I sing the second soprano part, I was still spending a lot of time above the staff. So today I'm a little raspy. But it's a lot of fun, and I love singing stuff like that. Even more fun was that some of my friends came, and we then went to Dairy Queen because I desperately needed ice cream.
I was proud of myself for resisting my usual scream and jump tendencies. Saturday was the first time we'd practiced with the brass and percussion, and since the piece is about war and peace, there's a lot of percussion used to simulate gunfire. There's one movement that's a capella with just the men, doing a Gregorian chant type thing, and at one point the singing stops, and in that rest, there's a loud hit on a drum that sounds like a cannon going off. In the rehearsals so far, that's just been a moment of silence, so Saturday was the first time we heard the drum. It made me scream and jump. But since I knew it was coming, I braced myself and did not scream during the performance. I think my friends were disappointed. The rest of the startling loud drumbeats all came right before I was supposed to sing a loud, high note, so they were less of a problem.
Now we get to start practicing music for Christmas. The nice thing about doing a major choral work in late October is that it means we aren't singing Christmas music in September, but we will have to work hard to be ready for Christmas.
In the meantime, I think this may be a tea and book day, especially if the sun doesn't come out.
I've seen this episode of Haven, and it doesn't go well. I may not go outside today, in case the weather lady is really pissed off (she must be a St. Louis fan).
Not that I was planning a lot of excursions today. It was a busy choir weekend, with a dress rehearsal most of Saturday and then a performance Saturday night. It's a very challenging work to sing, and although I sing the second soprano part, I was still spending a lot of time above the staff. So today I'm a little raspy. But it's a lot of fun, and I love singing stuff like that. Even more fun was that some of my friends came, and we then went to Dairy Queen because I desperately needed ice cream.
I was proud of myself for resisting my usual scream and jump tendencies. Saturday was the first time we'd practiced with the brass and percussion, and since the piece is about war and peace, there's a lot of percussion used to simulate gunfire. There's one movement that's a capella with just the men, doing a Gregorian chant type thing, and at one point the singing stops, and in that rest, there's a loud hit on a drum that sounds like a cannon going off. In the rehearsals so far, that's just been a moment of silence, so Saturday was the first time we heard the drum. It made me scream and jump. But since I knew it was coming, I braced myself and did not scream during the performance. I think my friends were disappointed. The rest of the startling loud drumbeats all came right before I was supposed to sing a loud, high note, so they were less of a problem.
Now we get to start practicing music for Christmas. The nice thing about doing a major choral work in late October is that it means we aren't singing Christmas music in September, but we will have to work hard to be ready for Christmas.
In the meantime, I think this may be a tea and book day, especially if the sun doesn't come out.
October 21, 2011
Running Errands Beyond Thunderdome
My timing was off for my morning errands, so it looks like I'll have afternoon errands. If it gets close to 11, the lunch crowds in my area come out, and then the traffic on the main road becomes a nightmare, there are lines at the gas station pumps and the grocery store and Target turn into zoos full of long lines and unruly customers. I think I was about fifteen minutes too late today. I absolutely had to get gas because my warning light came on when I was on my way to choir practice Wednesday. My car seems to go quite abruptly from looking like there's nearly a quarter of a tank to the "Oh no! We're out of gas! We're all going to die!" light coming on. (Though that is possibly my interpretation of the light. The intended meaning may be "You're running low on fuel, so when you get a chance, you might want to fill up," but I can't stop myself from panicking when a warning light comes on.) Of course, the light only comes on at night when I'm on my way somewhere and don't have extra time, and when I'm in a place where there are no gas stations at all between me and my destination. The needle wasn't yet that close to "E," so I just came home after choir and figured I'd fill up the next time I went out.
The closest, most convenient gas station, the one in front of the grocery store, seems to stay in this scary "every man for himself" demolition derby mode straight out of Mad Max, with lines at the pump and people jockeying for position. I nearly got hit three times just trying to escape after giving up and deciding to try another station. You'd think there was no other fuel for miles rather than just no fuel without making an unprotected left a block away. I got my cookie-baking supplies to be ready for tomorrow's choir dress rehearsal and managed to get to a gas station before my car died (I don't think I was actually in danger, but warning light!), then decided it would probably be best to go home and catch my breath after my ordeal before venturing out again after the lunch crowds die down. On errand day, I should get into the habit of going out before I do my usual Internet reading/tea drinking so I can be home before the mobs emerge. Or else get hood-mounted weaponry (if you're gonna play Mad Max, you may as well go all the way).
This has been a spectacularly unproductive week, in part because of fighting the last remnants of the cold/allergies and in part because I was anticipating getting something I'd need to work on from someone else, so there was no point in getting too deep into anything else, only the delivery estimate seems to keep slipping and I'm still waiting (just watch, I'll get it right before the deadline, at the worst possible time, then have to kill myself to get it done on time after all this waiting). So, today I'm just going to catch up on errands, check out the Half-Price Books warehouse sale (like I need books, but it's practically in my neighborhood, and I'm always on the lookout for oddball reference books), and then bake cookies. The cookies are for lunch at a choir rehearsal, but I suppose I should taste them for quality control. There's a new law in Texas that allows people to sell baked goods made in their homes. You no longer have to use a commercial/industrial kitchen. I do good cookies. Maybe that's something I can look into if this writing thing doesn't work out, or a possible source of bonus income between books. Maybe someone would want to outsource their holiday baking. Unfortunately, I don't really do "pretty" cookies, unless I'm using the cookie press. I'm not a fan of icing, so I don't do the traditional decorating.
Oh, and go Texas Rangers! Winning a World Series would be really cool (especially the same year the Mavericks won the NBA).
The closest, most convenient gas station, the one in front of the grocery store, seems to stay in this scary "every man for himself" demolition derby mode straight out of Mad Max, with lines at the pump and people jockeying for position. I nearly got hit three times just trying to escape after giving up and deciding to try another station. You'd think there was no other fuel for miles rather than just no fuel without making an unprotected left a block away. I got my cookie-baking supplies to be ready for tomorrow's choir dress rehearsal and managed to get to a gas station before my car died (I don't think I was actually in danger, but warning light!), then decided it would probably be best to go home and catch my breath after my ordeal before venturing out again after the lunch crowds die down. On errand day, I should get into the habit of going out before I do my usual Internet reading/tea drinking so I can be home before the mobs emerge. Or else get hood-mounted weaponry (if you're gonna play Mad Max, you may as well go all the way).
This has been a spectacularly unproductive week, in part because of fighting the last remnants of the cold/allergies and in part because I was anticipating getting something I'd need to work on from someone else, so there was no point in getting too deep into anything else, only the delivery estimate seems to keep slipping and I'm still waiting (just watch, I'll get it right before the deadline, at the worst possible time, then have to kill myself to get it done on time after all this waiting). So, today I'm just going to catch up on errands, check out the Half-Price Books warehouse sale (like I need books, but it's practically in my neighborhood, and I'm always on the lookout for oddball reference books), and then bake cookies. The cookies are for lunch at a choir rehearsal, but I suppose I should taste them for quality control. There's a new law in Texas that allows people to sell baked goods made in their homes. You no longer have to use a commercial/industrial kitchen. I do good cookies. Maybe that's something I can look into if this writing thing doesn't work out, or a possible source of bonus income between books. Maybe someone would want to outsource their holiday baking. Unfortunately, I don't really do "pretty" cookies, unless I'm using the cookie press. I'm not a fan of icing, so I don't do the traditional decorating.
Oh, and go Texas Rangers! Winning a World Series would be really cool (especially the same year the Mavericks won the NBA).
October 20, 2011
Triumph!
I think I need some kind of choir or music-related icon.
I achieved a great victory yesterday: I got Mole Boy to speak! And he then even participated (sort of) in the choir activities instead of hiding in his corner. We were making tambourines by punching holes in the edges of small paper plates, then tying them together with pieces of pipe cleaners with little jingle bells threaded through them (this is very exciting when you're four). To start, we had the kids color their plates, and as the kids arrived, we handed them their plates and directed them over to the crayons. Mole Boy was just sitting there for a while, either not wanting to force his way through the mob of girls surrounding the crayons or using that as an excuse not to do anything. I asked him what his favorite colors were, and he actually spoke to tell me -- probably the first words he's spoken since he's been coming to choir. So I found those colors for him (aided by the mob of girls suddenly competing desperately to help me) and he then colored his tambourine and played it with the others when we were later using them. He still didn't sing, but he stayed with the group and did most of the stuff the other kids were doing.
The other teacher and I have worked out that she'll focus on leading the lessons and guiding the 80 percent of kids who participate easily and willingly, and I'll deal with the 20 percent who need extra help or encouragement. I also deal with leading the actual singing. It was interesting trying to teach a new song last night with one child in my lap and one sitting behind me, playing with my hair. I have longer hair than Barbie, so I make a great toy. I did double check my hair before going to adult choir practice because I had no idea what I'd look like after being styled by preschoolers fighting over who got to play with my hair next. I had to make the no-combing rule (I had it pulled back with combs, and they started trying to use those to comb it) because if you try to comb my hair, it just gets huge and tries to take over the world. A waist-length Afro is not a pretty sight.
It was a little terrifying to learn that I apparently get these kids at their best behavior. We only have choir once a week, so it's "special" enough that they don't get into a total comfort zone like they would at school. The mom of one of my kids sits behind me in choir, and at rehearsal she apologized for inflicting her child on me. He'd been absolutely awful all day, to the point that she felt like sticking him on the front porch with a "free to good home" sign, and she'd even wondered if she should bring him to choir at all, but she needed the break from him and then felt bad for using me for her break. I told her he's one of the good ones. He never gives me any trouble, and he's so sweet and kind to the other kids. When we still thought Mole Boy was just being afraid, this was the kid who went over to him and tried to coax him out of his corner by offering to be his friend. She gave me this look that said, "Are you sure we're talking about the same kid?"
Next week is the Halloween carnival, so I don't have to deal with choir. I'll still probably help with the carnival so I can see the kids in their costumes, but I won't be in charge. I'm guessing there will be a lot of princesses.
Speaking of choir stuff, for those in the north Texas area, my choir and people from some other choirs in the area, along with a brass ensemble, are presenting The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace on Sunday night at seven at the First United Methodist Church in Coppell. This is a really cool choral work that was originally commissioned by the Royal Armouries for the millennium and was dedicated to the victims of the tragedy in Kosovo. But then the recording was released on September 10, 2001, so it took on an additional meaning. The piece is based on a 15th century French song and contains many of the traditional mass elements, mixed in with bits of poetry by people like Kipling and Tennyson set to music. The music covers a lot of styles, including Renaissance motet and Gregorian chant. It's really fun to sing, even if the composer really likes the sopranos to stay above the staff. For a sample, here's a movement from the original recording, courtesy of the Tube of You (this is not my choir, but it gives a sense of the piece). And it's free! I tried on my black concert dress last night to make sure I could still zip it after losing some of the range of motion in my shoulder, and I'm good to go.
I achieved a great victory yesterday: I got Mole Boy to speak! And he then even participated (sort of) in the choir activities instead of hiding in his corner. We were making tambourines by punching holes in the edges of small paper plates, then tying them together with pieces of pipe cleaners with little jingle bells threaded through them (this is very exciting when you're four). To start, we had the kids color their plates, and as the kids arrived, we handed them their plates and directed them over to the crayons. Mole Boy was just sitting there for a while, either not wanting to force his way through the mob of girls surrounding the crayons or using that as an excuse not to do anything. I asked him what his favorite colors were, and he actually spoke to tell me -- probably the first words he's spoken since he's been coming to choir. So I found those colors for him (aided by the mob of girls suddenly competing desperately to help me) and he then colored his tambourine and played it with the others when we were later using them. He still didn't sing, but he stayed with the group and did most of the stuff the other kids were doing.
The other teacher and I have worked out that she'll focus on leading the lessons and guiding the 80 percent of kids who participate easily and willingly, and I'll deal with the 20 percent who need extra help or encouragement. I also deal with leading the actual singing. It was interesting trying to teach a new song last night with one child in my lap and one sitting behind me, playing with my hair. I have longer hair than Barbie, so I make a great toy. I did double check my hair before going to adult choir practice because I had no idea what I'd look like after being styled by preschoolers fighting over who got to play with my hair next. I had to make the no-combing rule (I had it pulled back with combs, and they started trying to use those to comb it) because if you try to comb my hair, it just gets huge and tries to take over the world. A waist-length Afro is not a pretty sight.
It was a little terrifying to learn that I apparently get these kids at their best behavior. We only have choir once a week, so it's "special" enough that they don't get into a total comfort zone like they would at school. The mom of one of my kids sits behind me in choir, and at rehearsal she apologized for inflicting her child on me. He'd been absolutely awful all day, to the point that she felt like sticking him on the front porch with a "free to good home" sign, and she'd even wondered if she should bring him to choir at all, but she needed the break from him and then felt bad for using me for her break. I told her he's one of the good ones. He never gives me any trouble, and he's so sweet and kind to the other kids. When we still thought Mole Boy was just being afraid, this was the kid who went over to him and tried to coax him out of his corner by offering to be his friend. She gave me this look that said, "Are you sure we're talking about the same kid?"
Next week is the Halloween carnival, so I don't have to deal with choir. I'll still probably help with the carnival so I can see the kids in their costumes, but I won't be in charge. I'm guessing there will be a lot of princesses.
Speaking of choir stuff, for those in the north Texas area, my choir and people from some other choirs in the area, along with a brass ensemble, are presenting The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace on Sunday night at seven at the First United Methodist Church in Coppell. This is a really cool choral work that was originally commissioned by the Royal Armouries for the millennium and was dedicated to the victims of the tragedy in Kosovo. But then the recording was released on September 10, 2001, so it took on an additional meaning. The piece is based on a 15th century French song and contains many of the traditional mass elements, mixed in with bits of poetry by people like Kipling and Tennyson set to music. The music covers a lot of styles, including Renaissance motet and Gregorian chant. It's really fun to sing, even if the composer really likes the sopranos to stay above the staff. For a sample, here's a movement from the original recording, courtesy of the Tube of You (this is not my choir, but it gives a sense of the piece). And it's free! I tried on my black concert dress last night to make sure I could still zip it after losing some of the range of motion in my shoulder, and I'm good to go.
October 19, 2011
Character Development: Building Traits
I'm continuing a series on character development. Previously, I discussed the way I like to start building a character from the inside by considering what the character's driving need is. Next, I move out a little from that and determine what the character's personal goal is. This is different from the drive because it's something the character has actually chosen, whether or not he admits it to himself. The drive is just kind of there. Few people actually choose that they need to be in control of every situation, but they may have a goal of becoming president of a company. It's also different from the story goal, even if those goals may coincide. The story goal is about plot, but the character goal is about character. This is what the character wants out of life before the story gets started. It may change along the way as the story teaches the character that what he wants and what he needs are two different things. In fact, usually the story goal does upset the character's life in some way, even if it coincides with his personal goal -- often by making him put his money where his mouth is. He's always said he wanted this one thing, but he's never actually done anything about it, and now the story goal will make him do it.
Once you know these key internal things about the character, you can start adding other character traits. Think about how the character fits into her world -- does she fit in, or is she a misfit? Does she like her current situation? Who are the people in her life, and how does she relate to them? Where does she live, work, play, and what does she think about these things? I think the character's attitudes toward the things in her life are as important as the things themselves. There are few things in our lives that we don't have some attitude about, and a character without opinions and attitudes about the details of her life will come across as weirdly blank. For instance, even if you don't think about your neighbors very often, you probably have attitudes or opinions about them -- they're noisy, intrusive, weird and reclusive, messy, leave their trash bins out, don't clean up after their pets, are way too obsessive about their lawns, come and go at odd hours, are like the family you never had, etc. So, it's not just important to know your character's profession, but you need to know what she thinks about that profession.
I once went to a writing seminar where the instructor suggested that each character have four key traits -- like stubbornness, altruism, enthusiasm, etc. -- and that one of them should be something that doesn't seem to fit. Too few traits and the character seems undeveloped, but more than that and the character will be unfocused because you won't have time to really develop all those traits. I've never actually made that work, at least not in a first draft. I find that I'm more likely to discover traits like these along the way because they emerge as I write the characters, and then I can work to develop and emphasize those traits in later drafts. I do think that having one thing that doesn't quite seem to fit, that's unexpected, plays a huge role in creating a character that people find fascinating. A person who isn't entirely what he seems to be or what you'd expect him to be is automatically intriguing. This oddball trait shouldn't come out of the blue, though. It needs to make sense for the character, and you may have to do some digging into the character's backstory or inner life to either find the oddball trait or figure out how the oddball trait fits. In my series, the character who most captures people's imagination is Owen, the super-powerful, very handsome wizard who's also ridiculously shy and can barely have a conversation without turning bright red. There is a story reason behind the shyness that I know and that's only hinted at in the books, and I think that oddball trait is one big reason why readers are so intrigued by him.
How much backstory you need to develop depends on the character and the story you're telling. Some characters and stories may require you to at least think about all the major points in the character's life, even if you don't mention those anywhere in the book. Some characters only need the slightest amount of backstory because their past doesn't matter that much. I would say to develop what you feel you need to understand the character, but remember that you don't have to put any or all of it in the book. If you need to know what his elementary school years were like to grasp where he is today, then think about that, but don't feel you have to develop his whole life story if you have a good sense for who this person is and that information doesn't matter to the plot. I find that there's a point where a character clicks for me and I feel like I know this person well enough to write the book. I'll always discover stuff along the way, and that's what revisions are for.
Next I'll get into how to convey all this character development in a story.
Once you know these key internal things about the character, you can start adding other character traits. Think about how the character fits into her world -- does she fit in, or is she a misfit? Does she like her current situation? Who are the people in her life, and how does she relate to them? Where does she live, work, play, and what does she think about these things? I think the character's attitudes toward the things in her life are as important as the things themselves. There are few things in our lives that we don't have some attitude about, and a character without opinions and attitudes about the details of her life will come across as weirdly blank. For instance, even if you don't think about your neighbors very often, you probably have attitudes or opinions about them -- they're noisy, intrusive, weird and reclusive, messy, leave their trash bins out, don't clean up after their pets, are way too obsessive about their lawns, come and go at odd hours, are like the family you never had, etc. So, it's not just important to know your character's profession, but you need to know what she thinks about that profession.
I once went to a writing seminar where the instructor suggested that each character have four key traits -- like stubbornness, altruism, enthusiasm, etc. -- and that one of them should be something that doesn't seem to fit. Too few traits and the character seems undeveloped, but more than that and the character will be unfocused because you won't have time to really develop all those traits. I've never actually made that work, at least not in a first draft. I find that I'm more likely to discover traits like these along the way because they emerge as I write the characters, and then I can work to develop and emphasize those traits in later drafts. I do think that having one thing that doesn't quite seem to fit, that's unexpected, plays a huge role in creating a character that people find fascinating. A person who isn't entirely what he seems to be or what you'd expect him to be is automatically intriguing. This oddball trait shouldn't come out of the blue, though. It needs to make sense for the character, and you may have to do some digging into the character's backstory or inner life to either find the oddball trait or figure out how the oddball trait fits. In my series, the character who most captures people's imagination is Owen, the super-powerful, very handsome wizard who's also ridiculously shy and can barely have a conversation without turning bright red. There is a story reason behind the shyness that I know and that's only hinted at in the books, and I think that oddball trait is one big reason why readers are so intrigued by him.
How much backstory you need to develop depends on the character and the story you're telling. Some characters and stories may require you to at least think about all the major points in the character's life, even if you don't mention those anywhere in the book. Some characters only need the slightest amount of backstory because their past doesn't matter that much. I would say to develop what you feel you need to understand the character, but remember that you don't have to put any or all of it in the book. If you need to know what his elementary school years were like to grasp where he is today, then think about that, but don't feel you have to develop his whole life story if you have a good sense for who this person is and that information doesn't matter to the plot. I find that there's a point where a character clicks for me and I feel like I know this person well enough to write the book. I'll always discover stuff along the way, and that's what revisions are for.
Next I'll get into how to convey all this character development in a story.
October 18, 2011
History Overload
On the good news front, it seems that my plagiarist got taken down. He made the mistake of copying articles from Cracked.com, and that got noticed. I guess I missed my chance to get publicity out of it, but I also didn't have to worry about confrontation and having an Internet psycho after me, which I worried about because his "about me" info indicated he's local. I didn't want some weirdo showing up on my doorstep or stalking me.
On the bad news front, if it was allergies before, I think it turned into a real illness because by yesterday afternoon I was running what for me is a high fever. Other than that icky fevery feeling and the general malaise that comes with it, I actually feel better because I'm not sniffling or sneezing, and I only cough when I get dry. I think that means I'm going to take it easy today and just lie around drinking hot tea. SyFy is showing the entire The Stand miniseries. Maybe that will make me feel good in comparison, and maybe I'll be able to pick out a few more Stephen King references in Haven. Or I could get bored and switch to something else.
I seem to go for different kinds of entertainment with each illness. With last fall's bronchitis, I did the Lord of the Rings trilogy (something that didn't make me laugh or cry -- both of which caused problems). With last winter's cold, it was a weird combination of SyFy monster movies and Lifetime romantic comedies. This time around it's been historical documentaries. Friday afternoon, the PBS World channel did a program on Maria Tallchief, the Native American prima ballerina from Oklahoma. I'd read a bio of her when I was in a brief dance-mad phase as a kid, and she was one of my heroes as a ballerina from Oklahoma (I was born in Oklahoma and was living there at the time). But I'd never actually seen her dance, and this show had lots of footage of her. She was amazing, very powerful. Today's ideal dancer body is a skeleton with a bun (then again, the typical ideal female body for just about everything these days is a skeleton with whatever appropriate accessory), but she had a very solid, muscular body. Still slender and lithe, but not at all fragile looking. She also seems like a really cool lady with a great sense of humor.
Then at night, there was an interesting "When Weather Changed History" on the Weather Channel about the Nome diphtheria epidemic and the frantic dog sled relay to get the serum there in time -- the basis for today's Iditarod race. It says something sad about the History Channel when the Weather Channel has better programs about history. Saturday morning there was an old documentary on the History Channel about pirates (I think it was from when the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie came out), and then that afternoon there was a program on Jesse James that started out being interesting but that then turned into the more usual current History Channel fare. In other words, conspiracy theories (but no aliens, this time). They were tracking down the places the James gang may have hidden their treasure, based on carvings in the walls of caves in odd geologic formations in one part of Kansas where the gang operated. That part was kind of cool. But then they went off on how James was actually part of this secret society keeping the aims of the Confederacy going, and he was robbing to raise money for this group. I didn't have a problem believing that, but their evidence was often pretty slim -- like they'd point out some supposedly secret sign that he was giving in a photo, and I couldn't tell anything different from the way everyone else in the photo was standing. Then they went off on the "Jesse James faked his own death" theories and pointed to some man who died decades later who claimed he was Jesse James. They did a DNA test that shows that man was no relation, but then said that a forensics expert had problems with the test -- as though that was definitive proof that the test was wrong. But all the forensics expert said was that the test results wouldn't hold up in court because there was no chain of evidence. They couldn't prove decisively where the samples came from, mostly because the sample supposedly from Jesse James had gone through so many hands without firm documentation. They found a stash of old coins in one of the places the marks on the caves seemed to point to, and some of them were minted after James's death, which they took as more proof that he faked his death. I pointed out that those caves were covered with carvings and were ideal hiding places for criminals, so there was no telling who had buried that money. If I can spot the flaws in your theory while lying on the sofa, zonked out on cold medicine, then maybe you shouldn't be breathlessly stating it as fact on TV.
And then there was a program on the great San Francisco earthquake, which devolved into doom-and-gloom scenarios about what would happen if another one of that size hit now -- and it could at any time! Maybe tomorrow! It did raise the interesting question of why, when the city was almost entirely destroyed, they rebuilt it in the same place, on top of a known major fault line, which is a really bad place to have a city. One of the geologists interviewed on the program pointed out that in Europe and Asia, there are ruins of former cities that were abandoned when they proved to be very bad places to have cities. They didn't rebuild Pompeii in the same place after they discovered it was under a volcano, for instance.
I did make one attempt at watching a Lifetime romantic comedy. They were showing New in Town, in which Renee Zellweger is an executive sent to close or retool a plant in Minnesota, where, of course, she starts out as a fish out of water but then is transformed by the locals and falls in love with her total opposite local guy, Harry Connick Jr. I love him in romantic comedies (though not sure I can buy him as a Minnesotan because he never loses his Louisiana drawl), but I barely made it far enough into the movie for his character to appear. I just can't watch a movie with a heroine who is too stupid to live. This woman travels to Minnesota in the winter, wearing a skirt with no tights or stockings and just a little sweater as a coat. Not to mention the spiked heels for travel. And then she's running around in short sleeves with just that little sweater coat. I am from a warm climate, and I've taken a business trip to Minnesota in December. And, you know, there are these things called weather forecasts. It's easy to find out what the weather will be like and to dress and pack accordingly. Since I don't have a Minnesota in winter wardrobe, I went with layers, including long underwear, wool slacks, multiple pairs of socks, sensible shoes and layers of sweaters, under my long winter coat with a hat, gloves and scarf. That was the coldest I've been in my life, even with all that stuff, and it was supposedly a warm winter for them. I just couldn't believe that anyone smart enough to make it anywhere in business would be so clueless as to be surprised that it's cold in Minnesota. That was when I decided to take a nap.
But what did happen to the History Channel? It now seems to be mostly reality series about people who run pawn shops or drive trucks on bad roads. How is that even remotely "history"? I can't even buy their "being made daily" slogan because, no, that's still not history. No one will remember these people or care because they're making zero impact on the grand scheme of things. There are dozens of channels for the lowest common denominator. Why do they also have to get one of the few channels for smart people? I'd even take the non-stop WWII programming they used to run, so long as it's not about how the Nazis were really space aliens.
On the bad news front, if it was allergies before, I think it turned into a real illness because by yesterday afternoon I was running what for me is a high fever. Other than that icky fevery feeling and the general malaise that comes with it, I actually feel better because I'm not sniffling or sneezing, and I only cough when I get dry. I think that means I'm going to take it easy today and just lie around drinking hot tea. SyFy is showing the entire The Stand miniseries. Maybe that will make me feel good in comparison, and maybe I'll be able to pick out a few more Stephen King references in Haven. Or I could get bored and switch to something else.
I seem to go for different kinds of entertainment with each illness. With last fall's bronchitis, I did the Lord of the Rings trilogy (something that didn't make me laugh or cry -- both of which caused problems). With last winter's cold, it was a weird combination of SyFy monster movies and Lifetime romantic comedies. This time around it's been historical documentaries. Friday afternoon, the PBS World channel did a program on Maria Tallchief, the Native American prima ballerina from Oklahoma. I'd read a bio of her when I was in a brief dance-mad phase as a kid, and she was one of my heroes as a ballerina from Oklahoma (I was born in Oklahoma and was living there at the time). But I'd never actually seen her dance, and this show had lots of footage of her. She was amazing, very powerful. Today's ideal dancer body is a skeleton with a bun (then again, the typical ideal female body for just about everything these days is a skeleton with whatever appropriate accessory), but she had a very solid, muscular body. Still slender and lithe, but not at all fragile looking. She also seems like a really cool lady with a great sense of humor.
Then at night, there was an interesting "When Weather Changed History" on the Weather Channel about the Nome diphtheria epidemic and the frantic dog sled relay to get the serum there in time -- the basis for today's Iditarod race. It says something sad about the History Channel when the Weather Channel has better programs about history. Saturday morning there was an old documentary on the History Channel about pirates (I think it was from when the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie came out), and then that afternoon there was a program on Jesse James that started out being interesting but that then turned into the more usual current History Channel fare. In other words, conspiracy theories (but no aliens, this time). They were tracking down the places the James gang may have hidden their treasure, based on carvings in the walls of caves in odd geologic formations in one part of Kansas where the gang operated. That part was kind of cool. But then they went off on how James was actually part of this secret society keeping the aims of the Confederacy going, and he was robbing to raise money for this group. I didn't have a problem believing that, but their evidence was often pretty slim -- like they'd point out some supposedly secret sign that he was giving in a photo, and I couldn't tell anything different from the way everyone else in the photo was standing. Then they went off on the "Jesse James faked his own death" theories and pointed to some man who died decades later who claimed he was Jesse James. They did a DNA test that shows that man was no relation, but then said that a forensics expert had problems with the test -- as though that was definitive proof that the test was wrong. But all the forensics expert said was that the test results wouldn't hold up in court because there was no chain of evidence. They couldn't prove decisively where the samples came from, mostly because the sample supposedly from Jesse James had gone through so many hands without firm documentation. They found a stash of old coins in one of the places the marks on the caves seemed to point to, and some of them were minted after James's death, which they took as more proof that he faked his death. I pointed out that those caves were covered with carvings and were ideal hiding places for criminals, so there was no telling who had buried that money. If I can spot the flaws in your theory while lying on the sofa, zonked out on cold medicine, then maybe you shouldn't be breathlessly stating it as fact on TV.
And then there was a program on the great San Francisco earthquake, which devolved into doom-and-gloom scenarios about what would happen if another one of that size hit now -- and it could at any time! Maybe tomorrow! It did raise the interesting question of why, when the city was almost entirely destroyed, they rebuilt it in the same place, on top of a known major fault line, which is a really bad place to have a city. One of the geologists interviewed on the program pointed out that in Europe and Asia, there are ruins of former cities that were abandoned when they proved to be very bad places to have cities. They didn't rebuild Pompeii in the same place after they discovered it was under a volcano, for instance.
I did make one attempt at watching a Lifetime romantic comedy. They were showing New in Town, in which Renee Zellweger is an executive sent to close or retool a plant in Minnesota, where, of course, she starts out as a fish out of water but then is transformed by the locals and falls in love with her total opposite local guy, Harry Connick Jr. I love him in romantic comedies (though not sure I can buy him as a Minnesotan because he never loses his Louisiana drawl), but I barely made it far enough into the movie for his character to appear. I just can't watch a movie with a heroine who is too stupid to live. This woman travels to Minnesota in the winter, wearing a skirt with no tights or stockings and just a little sweater as a coat. Not to mention the spiked heels for travel. And then she's running around in short sleeves with just that little sweater coat. I am from a warm climate, and I've taken a business trip to Minnesota in December. And, you know, there are these things called weather forecasts. It's easy to find out what the weather will be like and to dress and pack accordingly. Since I don't have a Minnesota in winter wardrobe, I went with layers, including long underwear, wool slacks, multiple pairs of socks, sensible shoes and layers of sweaters, under my long winter coat with a hat, gloves and scarf. That was the coldest I've been in my life, even with all that stuff, and it was supposedly a warm winter for them. I just couldn't believe that anyone smart enough to make it anywhere in business would be so clueless as to be surprised that it's cold in Minnesota. That was when I decided to take a nap.
But what did happen to the History Channel? It now seems to be mostly reality series about people who run pawn shops or drive trucks on bad roads. How is that even remotely "history"? I can't even buy their "being made daily" slogan because, no, that's still not history. No one will remember these people or care because they're making zero impact on the grand scheme of things. There are dozens of channels for the lowest common denominator. Why do they also have to get one of the few channels for smart people? I'd even take the non-stop WWII programming they used to run, so long as it's not about how the Nazis were really space aliens.
October 17, 2011
My Choir's Debut
I promised no more whining, but can I help it if things just keep happening? After all the "fun" of last week, to top it off, on Friday afternoon I learned that my high school band director had died. My mom pointed out that I haven't really had any contact with him in more than 25 years, so this could hardly be a case of bad things happening to people I know, but it didn't help my mood. And then I came down with either a really bad allergy attack or a mild cold, or possibly an unholy combination of both. It was strangely a relief to have something bad actually happen directly to me because then I didn't feel like I was being self-indulgent or making it all about me to feel pitiful and wallow in my misery. I was fortunate that although I've had all the symptoms on the Nyquil bottle, I never had them all at once. They came in phases. I started with the runny nose, fever and sneezing on Friday, which continued on Saturday. By Sunday, the fever was gone and I'd stopped dripping but had become stuffy. Today the sneezing seems to be gone, but I'm still stuffy and now I'm coughing.
And, wouldn't you know it, it was one Sunday when I couldn't stay home. I was directing the combined preschool and kindergarten choirs to sing in the early service, and I was the one with the sheet music for the pianist. Then it was my Sunday to lead the preschool singing in Sunday school, and then if I was already there, I didn't want to miss the piece we were singing in the late service. I was feeling a lot better and wasn't running fever (and if it was a cold rather than allergies I probably caught it from the little germ machines), so I dragged myself in at 8 in the morning.
It seems my assessment of Mole Boy, that his behavior was about seeking attention rather than true timidity, was correct, since he was the one kid who refused to wear a choir robe and stood front and center in the group, not singing and glaring straight ahead. Since his older brother is in the kindergarten choir, I figure that if he'd been truly timid and afraid of being noticed, he'd have done exactly what his brother did and clung to him. A timid kid definitely wouldn't have made himself stand out by being the only one not wearing a robe. He may be too shy to outright demand attention, but he's trying to get attention. I think he thinks he's somehow punishing his parents by refusing to get involved and have fun at things they're making him do, and he's too young to realize that he's the only one he's really hurting. At least he stood there and didn't crawl under something. We had a few meltdowns in the choir room, but only one big one while performing, when the most outgoing girl in the group, our class clown, burst into tears and ran off in the middle of the song. It turned out that she'd walked into a wall on her way out of the choir room (because she was goofing around) and hurt her nose, so it was a hurt thing, not a stage fright thing. And then my choir director's son wouldn't go on with the choir without his dad being next to him. I'll get lots of teasing mileage out of that. I may tell the choir director I can't sing unless my dad stands with me (though my dad would object to that, I'm sure). The nice thing is that with kids this young, they're so cute that it really doesn't matter how they perform, and, really, the more crazy stuff that happens, the more the congregation enjoys it because it's that much cuter.
Needless to say, I got home and collapsed. Today I'm a lot better and am functioning without medication so far. There may still be napping this afternoon, and I'm kind of hazy, so I'm not anticipating high productivity. I've got a busy week and weekend ahead, so getting better is priority #1.
And, wouldn't you know it, it was one Sunday when I couldn't stay home. I was directing the combined preschool and kindergarten choirs to sing in the early service, and I was the one with the sheet music for the pianist. Then it was my Sunday to lead the preschool singing in Sunday school, and then if I was already there, I didn't want to miss the piece we were singing in the late service. I was feeling a lot better and wasn't running fever (and if it was a cold rather than allergies I probably caught it from the little germ machines), so I dragged myself in at 8 in the morning.
It seems my assessment of Mole Boy, that his behavior was about seeking attention rather than true timidity, was correct, since he was the one kid who refused to wear a choir robe and stood front and center in the group, not singing and glaring straight ahead. Since his older brother is in the kindergarten choir, I figure that if he'd been truly timid and afraid of being noticed, he'd have done exactly what his brother did and clung to him. A timid kid definitely wouldn't have made himself stand out by being the only one not wearing a robe. He may be too shy to outright demand attention, but he's trying to get attention. I think he thinks he's somehow punishing his parents by refusing to get involved and have fun at things they're making him do, and he's too young to realize that he's the only one he's really hurting. At least he stood there and didn't crawl under something. We had a few meltdowns in the choir room, but only one big one while performing, when the most outgoing girl in the group, our class clown, burst into tears and ran off in the middle of the song. It turned out that she'd walked into a wall on her way out of the choir room (because she was goofing around) and hurt her nose, so it was a hurt thing, not a stage fright thing. And then my choir director's son wouldn't go on with the choir without his dad being next to him. I'll get lots of teasing mileage out of that. I may tell the choir director I can't sing unless my dad stands with me (though my dad would object to that, I'm sure). The nice thing is that with kids this young, they're so cute that it really doesn't matter how they perform, and, really, the more crazy stuff that happens, the more the congregation enjoys it because it's that much cuter.
Needless to say, I got home and collapsed. Today I'm a lot better and am functioning without medication so far. There may still be napping this afternoon, and I'm kind of hazy, so I'm not anticipating high productivity. I've got a busy week and weekend ahead, so getting better is priority #1.
October 14, 2011
Rapunzel's Secret Identity: Mole Girl
First, a minor announcement: Several years ago, I snagged the Blogspot address for The Stealth Geek and parked my Stealth Geek FAQ on it. In a fit of procrastination yesterday, I decided to do something with it, so I'll be indulging in my geeky side there. There may be some overlap with topics here, but it will be more focused on being a fan blog instead of a writer blog. If that's your thing, then visit The Stealth Geek and spread the word.
Yesterday was an all-around weird day. It didn't help the general sense of gloom that my friend's obituary was on the list of top local stories that showed up whenever I went to my web mail's landing site. Then when I'd put off going out for groceries too long and was killing time before lunch, I ran out of things to look at on my usual Internet haunts and started just going to all my somewhat publishing-related bookmarks (so I could call it "work"). I got to the Smart Bitches Who Love Trashy Books site, and what do I see at the very top of the page? My bookcover. And my name. I was the "whatever happened to?" question of the day. And I really did find it that way. I was not egosurfing or Googling myself. It was a real shocker, and it took me a while to stop shaking. On the one hand, it's wonderful to know that people are still thinking of me, and that kind of exposure on that popular a site can be a good thing (it looked like my Amazon ranking improved). On the other hand, if you're a "whatever happened to?" question, does that make you a has-been? I responded in the comments, since there was a lot of speculation that wasn't entirely accurate (like the accusation that my web site was out of date -- it isn't. It's just that nothing has changed in a very long time). And then it turned into a discussion on e-publishing, which I'm staying out of because that site can get ugly if they turn against you and the e-book zealots scare me.
I went to ballet class because I figured that dancing would be great stress relief. On the way, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up the essential items from my shopping list, and on my way into the store I ran into someone from choir, then I ended up in the checkout line with my pastor's wife. Since I was on the way to ballet, I had my hair in a tight bun and no makeup on, so I felt a little self-conscious. At least my pastor's wife recognized me even out of context, so that proves I'm active enough in church that she knows me (and it's a pretty big church). Then I got to the ballet school and found that I was the only person there from my class. I guess everyone is staying out until our regular teacher gets back from maternity leave. Worse, the substitute was the Old World-style ballet mistress. If you've seen any ballet movie ever, you know the type, except this one is Mexican instead of Russian. So I had her eagle eye on me and only me for the entire time, which made me even more self-conscious and got me flustered. I'm fairly graceful, but I'm not all that coordinated, so remembering what I was supposed to be doing while moving my feet, maintaining proper positions with my arms, moving my arms and moving my head all at the same time while being flustered and knowing I was being watched intently was a train wreck in the making. I made her shake her head in despair, though I'm sure I did learn a lot and got a lot of minute corrections. I found myself thinking that maybe Mole Boy has the right idea. If I could have found something to crawl under, I would have.
And then I realized that one reason Mole Boy gets to me -- and that I "get" him -- is that I have a fair amount of Mole Girl in me. I simultaneously fear and crave attention. It feels weird and wrong to seek attention openly, but I kind of want to be recognized, and yet it can be utterly terrifying to be the center of attention.
This cartoon came out earlier this week, and my first thought was "Darn! They're on to me! Back to the drawing board for the Ongoing Plan for World Domination, since this is pretty much the basis of it, and now everyone knows."
I generally function on the "if you're good, no one will see you coming" idea, along with the idea that if you're nice, people will want to work with you and want to do nice things for you. But as I've been dealing with some career things and thinking about my Mole Girl tendencies, I'm realizing that there's a fine line between not seeing you coming and taking you for granted. People are more likely to notice the people who make a fuss. Doing PR for Ericsson as long as I did showed me that this may be a cultural thing I've picked up from my dad. It's a very Scandinavian attitude -- you don't put yourself out for attention because if you deserve it, you'll get it. You also don't have to make a fuss about things you're working on because you know that everyone else will get their part of things done when they need to be done. You don't need to nag or remind people -- and doing so is even something of an insult. This could explain why I worked so well with Ericsson that I got recruited by another agency when they consolidated their accounts and the new agency needed someone to run all the Ericsson accounts. It's a very low-stress way to work when everyone's on the same page and operates that way. But it all falls apart when you're dealing with someone who doesn't work that way, and most Americans in the business world don't work that way. You have to push yourself forward and ask for things you want, like promotions, raises and job assignments. If you don't, they'll go to someone else, even if you deserve them more. You have to remind and even nag people about deadlines and deliverables or they won't happen, and you'll get nagged even if you're on schedule. If you're thinking Scandinavian and are dealing with American practices, that gets frustrating. You'll get passed over for advancement and left to languish where you are. You won't find out until the due date that something hasn't been done. You'll get nagged even when you're on schedule.
At first, if you're like me, you turn it on yourself. You'll think you didn't get the promotion, raise or assignment because you really weren't worthy. You'll think that other people didn't get their parts of your project done because it was a low priority item and they didn't care about it. You'll think that you're behind schedule or have given people reason to believe you're unreliable when they nag you. So you don't protest or complain. Eventually, though, you'll start to look at things objectively and evaluate the situation and realize that you really should have been the one to get the promotion, that your project was important enough to be done on time. You don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, though, so you'll say something generalized and oblique about it, and when that doesn't get the message across, you'll find a polite way to mention it that doesn't place blame. And then the explosion happens, and it usually comes as a complete surprise because the person you're dealing with hasn't been paying attention.
I tend to let things slide, in part because of that "if I'm not getting attention, then it may mean I don't deserve it" thing and in part because I pick my battles and don't complain when I don't think it will matter much. But I'm not really letting things slide. I'm just not making a fuss. That means that by the time I say something in a self-deprecating way, as though it's some kind of quirk that there's this one thing that I really like to have happen in a certain way, with no direct accusations or specifics, that means NORAD has already gone on high alert. When I get more specific but without being too angry or accusing, the "I kind of hate to mention it, but it bothers me when this happens," sort of thing, the bomb bay doors are already open and it's probably too late to get to the bomb shelter. When I actually complain specifically and directly, what you're seeing is the mushroom cloud. The bomb has already detonated. I've been dealing with a situation where NORAD has been on alert for a few years, and I've made multiple "gee, this is one thing that gets to me" remarks. But I think my being "nice" has created a sense of complacency that I won't mind. The nuke went off this week, and there's someone out there awash in radiation who doesn't seem to have noticed. I'm not sure what more I can do to make it clear without getting really ugly, and getting ugly isn't in my nature. Getting ugly would also probably hurt me more than it hurts the people I'm dealing with (for now).
And, yeah, that's on top of everything else that's going on. I had thought about retail therapy, but that can backfire if they don't have anything in my size (and they never do) or if it doesn't fit well. I ended up at Target and bought a couple of fun little things while also taking care of my grocery list. There was a Phineas "big ideas" notebook on the clearance shelf that I couldn't resist. And I obtained chocolate. I think I may head to the library and see what DVDs they have. I think mostly I need a really good laugh, and old favorites don't work in the same way because most of the laugh yourself silly response comes from surprise. I haven't decided what I should do this weekend. It might be good to spend some time with others (more laughing) but I'm not sure I'd be very good company. There aren't any movies out right now that fit my current emotional needs, and there's major construction on the freeway that connects me to the rest of the metro area, so that also hampers things.
I promise next week I'll quit whining.
Yesterday was an all-around weird day. It didn't help the general sense of gloom that my friend's obituary was on the list of top local stories that showed up whenever I went to my web mail's landing site. Then when I'd put off going out for groceries too long and was killing time before lunch, I ran out of things to look at on my usual Internet haunts and started just going to all my somewhat publishing-related bookmarks (so I could call it "work"). I got to the Smart Bitches Who Love Trashy Books site, and what do I see at the very top of the page? My bookcover. And my name. I was the "whatever happened to?" question of the day. And I really did find it that way. I was not egosurfing or Googling myself. It was a real shocker, and it took me a while to stop shaking. On the one hand, it's wonderful to know that people are still thinking of me, and that kind of exposure on that popular a site can be a good thing (it looked like my Amazon ranking improved). On the other hand, if you're a "whatever happened to?" question, does that make you a has-been? I responded in the comments, since there was a lot of speculation that wasn't entirely accurate (like the accusation that my web site was out of date -- it isn't. It's just that nothing has changed in a very long time). And then it turned into a discussion on e-publishing, which I'm staying out of because that site can get ugly if they turn against you and the e-book zealots scare me.
I went to ballet class because I figured that dancing would be great stress relief. On the way, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up the essential items from my shopping list, and on my way into the store I ran into someone from choir, then I ended up in the checkout line with my pastor's wife. Since I was on the way to ballet, I had my hair in a tight bun and no makeup on, so I felt a little self-conscious. At least my pastor's wife recognized me even out of context, so that proves I'm active enough in church that she knows me (and it's a pretty big church). Then I got to the ballet school and found that I was the only person there from my class. I guess everyone is staying out until our regular teacher gets back from maternity leave. Worse, the substitute was the Old World-style ballet mistress. If you've seen any ballet movie ever, you know the type, except this one is Mexican instead of Russian. So I had her eagle eye on me and only me for the entire time, which made me even more self-conscious and got me flustered. I'm fairly graceful, but I'm not all that coordinated, so remembering what I was supposed to be doing while moving my feet, maintaining proper positions with my arms, moving my arms and moving my head all at the same time while being flustered and knowing I was being watched intently was a train wreck in the making. I made her shake her head in despair, though I'm sure I did learn a lot and got a lot of minute corrections. I found myself thinking that maybe Mole Boy has the right idea. If I could have found something to crawl under, I would have.
And then I realized that one reason Mole Boy gets to me -- and that I "get" him -- is that I have a fair amount of Mole Girl in me. I simultaneously fear and crave attention. It feels weird and wrong to seek attention openly, but I kind of want to be recognized, and yet it can be utterly terrifying to be the center of attention.
This cartoon came out earlier this week, and my first thought was "Darn! They're on to me! Back to the drawing board for the Ongoing Plan for World Domination, since this is pretty much the basis of it, and now everyone knows."
I generally function on the "if you're good, no one will see you coming" idea, along with the idea that if you're nice, people will want to work with you and want to do nice things for you. But as I've been dealing with some career things and thinking about my Mole Girl tendencies, I'm realizing that there's a fine line between not seeing you coming and taking you for granted. People are more likely to notice the people who make a fuss. Doing PR for Ericsson as long as I did showed me that this may be a cultural thing I've picked up from my dad. It's a very Scandinavian attitude -- you don't put yourself out for attention because if you deserve it, you'll get it. You also don't have to make a fuss about things you're working on because you know that everyone else will get their part of things done when they need to be done. You don't need to nag or remind people -- and doing so is even something of an insult. This could explain why I worked so well with Ericsson that I got recruited by another agency when they consolidated their accounts and the new agency needed someone to run all the Ericsson accounts. It's a very low-stress way to work when everyone's on the same page and operates that way. But it all falls apart when you're dealing with someone who doesn't work that way, and most Americans in the business world don't work that way. You have to push yourself forward and ask for things you want, like promotions, raises and job assignments. If you don't, they'll go to someone else, even if you deserve them more. You have to remind and even nag people about deadlines and deliverables or they won't happen, and you'll get nagged even if you're on schedule. If you're thinking Scandinavian and are dealing with American practices, that gets frustrating. You'll get passed over for advancement and left to languish where you are. You won't find out until the due date that something hasn't been done. You'll get nagged even when you're on schedule.
At first, if you're like me, you turn it on yourself. You'll think you didn't get the promotion, raise or assignment because you really weren't worthy. You'll think that other people didn't get their parts of your project done because it was a low priority item and they didn't care about it. You'll think that you're behind schedule or have given people reason to believe you're unreliable when they nag you. So you don't protest or complain. Eventually, though, you'll start to look at things objectively and evaluate the situation and realize that you really should have been the one to get the promotion, that your project was important enough to be done on time. You don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, though, so you'll say something generalized and oblique about it, and when that doesn't get the message across, you'll find a polite way to mention it that doesn't place blame. And then the explosion happens, and it usually comes as a complete surprise because the person you're dealing with hasn't been paying attention.
I tend to let things slide, in part because of that "if I'm not getting attention, then it may mean I don't deserve it" thing and in part because I pick my battles and don't complain when I don't think it will matter much. But I'm not really letting things slide. I'm just not making a fuss. That means that by the time I say something in a self-deprecating way, as though it's some kind of quirk that there's this one thing that I really like to have happen in a certain way, with no direct accusations or specifics, that means NORAD has already gone on high alert. When I get more specific but without being too angry or accusing, the "I kind of hate to mention it, but it bothers me when this happens," sort of thing, the bomb bay doors are already open and it's probably too late to get to the bomb shelter. When I actually complain specifically and directly, what you're seeing is the mushroom cloud. The bomb has already detonated. I've been dealing with a situation where NORAD has been on alert for a few years, and I've made multiple "gee, this is one thing that gets to me" remarks. But I think my being "nice" has created a sense of complacency that I won't mind. The nuke went off this week, and there's someone out there awash in radiation who doesn't seem to have noticed. I'm not sure what more I can do to make it clear without getting really ugly, and getting ugly isn't in my nature. Getting ugly would also probably hurt me more than it hurts the people I'm dealing with (for now).
And, yeah, that's on top of everything else that's going on. I had thought about retail therapy, but that can backfire if they don't have anything in my size (and they never do) or if it doesn't fit well. I ended up at Target and bought a couple of fun little things while also taking care of my grocery list. There was a Phineas "big ideas" notebook on the clearance shelf that I couldn't resist. And I obtained chocolate. I think I may head to the library and see what DVDs they have. I think mostly I need a really good laugh, and old favorites don't work in the same way because most of the laugh yourself silly response comes from surprise. I haven't decided what I should do this weekend. It might be good to spend some time with others (more laughing) but I'm not sure I'd be very good company. There aren't any movies out right now that fit my current emotional needs, and there's major construction on the freeway that connects me to the rest of the metro area, so that also hampers things.
I promise next week I'll quit whining.
October 13, 2011
The Adventures of Rapunzel and Mole Boy
I generally try to avoid a lot of negativity or downer stuff here because the main reason for this blog is to promote my books, and since I'm known for writing humor it would kind of go against my branding to have a downer blog. But I will confess to having had a rough month or so. It's not so much because of bad things happening to me -- there are certainly areas of my life that could stand improvement, but there's nothing really horribly wrong right now -- but because bad things are happening to people all around me. I seem to know too many people who are seriously ill or who have seriously ill family members. A friend lost her infant daughter not too long ago. Last week I found out that a friend/former co-worker from two jobs ago was in a coma, they took him off life support yesterday and he died this morning. I'd lost touch with him over the years since I left that job, and now I'm really regretting that because of the potential time I lost and now can't make up. This is all putting my career struggles in perspective, but it also makes it a little more difficult to deal with those more ordinary setbacks. Normally, I can shrug things off or have a mild temper flare-up in the privacy of my office and then shrug things off. Yesterday, I had to stay offline to keep from sending an e-mail that probably needs to be sent but that wouldn't have had the proper tone if I'd sent it yesterday. I also recognize that any big decisions I make right now might be more emotional than rational and not at all about the actual issue at hand.
Strangely, although dealing with the preschoolers is stressful, that was one of the highlights of my day yesterday. It was like a healing prescription to go be surrounded by little people who apparently think I'm awesome. I got lots of hugs, I had kids leaning against me or holding my hand, and then I had kids crawling into my lap. It's like therapy. The girls seem to have decided which Disney fairy princess superhero I am. They were playing with my hair last night and said I was Rapunzel. I am hoping they mean that in a Tangled sense, not like most depictions of Rapunzel (especially not from Into the Woods, though I doubt preschoolers would know that one).
We may be making headway with Mole Boy. There's one kid who will crawl under anything that can be crawled under and hide there. In our classroom, that means under the stack of chairs. I had to physically remove him from his hiding place when we went to the sanctuary to practice for the song we're doing in church Sunday because he wouldn't come out on his own and we couldn't leave him in the room alone. Once in the sanctuary, he crawled under the communion rail and then later the pulpit. I think with this kid we have a deadly combination of shyness and being spoiled. He didn't object to me pulling him out, and I rather got the feeling that's what he wanted me to do. He is truly shy, but he also craves attention, and I think he uses the shyness to get attention in a sort of passive-aggressive way. The other kids will tug on me and shout, "Teacher! Teacher" when they want attention, but he crawls into a corner and expects us to spend a lot of time coaxing him out. That means there's a fine line between really dealing with him in a way that lets him feel loved and catering to him in a way that encourages this behavior. I got a better sense of the situation from talking to his grandmother on Sunday, so I'm going with "we want you to have fun with us, but we're not going to make the world revolve around you." Still, I swear that if we weren't on a concrete slab, this kid would dig a hole and tunnel his way out -- but poke his head up every so often to make sure we knew he was tunneling his way out.
You know, if this writing thing doesn't work out, child psychology is sounding like an interesting career field.
The other bright spot to my day was the announcement that SyFy has renewed Haven. The cliffhanger will be resolved! That show is really, really pretty on Blu-Ray. So many of the shots would work perfectly as postcards. And that's not even getting into the cast. I don't know if it's the balance on my TV or something specific to the lighting/photography of this show, but the blues really pop, and that means blue eyes are even more gorgeous.
Needless to say, yesterday wasn't very productive. I think I have some ideas for fixing the current problem in The Problem Child, but I spent most of the time mentally composing e-mails I should never send while narrowing down on one that needs to be sent. Today I must obtain groceries. I think this weekend I'll make my first batch of veggie soup for the fall. And I think I will allow myself copious amounts of chocolate and maybe some long walks to balance it. It feels weird to be so discombobulated about bad things that aren't happening directly to me, but I suppose I am human and I'm allowed to have feelings. That's why I had the emotion chip installed, after all.
Strangely, although dealing with the preschoolers is stressful, that was one of the highlights of my day yesterday. It was like a healing prescription to go be surrounded by little people who apparently think I'm awesome. I got lots of hugs, I had kids leaning against me or holding my hand, and then I had kids crawling into my lap. It's like therapy. The girls seem to have decided which Disney fairy princess superhero I am. They were playing with my hair last night and said I was Rapunzel. I am hoping they mean that in a Tangled sense, not like most depictions of Rapunzel (especially not from Into the Woods, though I doubt preschoolers would know that one).
We may be making headway with Mole Boy. There's one kid who will crawl under anything that can be crawled under and hide there. In our classroom, that means under the stack of chairs. I had to physically remove him from his hiding place when we went to the sanctuary to practice for the song we're doing in church Sunday because he wouldn't come out on his own and we couldn't leave him in the room alone. Once in the sanctuary, he crawled under the communion rail and then later the pulpit. I think with this kid we have a deadly combination of shyness and being spoiled. He didn't object to me pulling him out, and I rather got the feeling that's what he wanted me to do. He is truly shy, but he also craves attention, and I think he uses the shyness to get attention in a sort of passive-aggressive way. The other kids will tug on me and shout, "Teacher! Teacher" when they want attention, but he crawls into a corner and expects us to spend a lot of time coaxing him out. That means there's a fine line between really dealing with him in a way that lets him feel loved and catering to him in a way that encourages this behavior. I got a better sense of the situation from talking to his grandmother on Sunday, so I'm going with "we want you to have fun with us, but we're not going to make the world revolve around you." Still, I swear that if we weren't on a concrete slab, this kid would dig a hole and tunnel his way out -- but poke his head up every so often to make sure we knew he was tunneling his way out.
You know, if this writing thing doesn't work out, child psychology is sounding like an interesting career field.
The other bright spot to my day was the announcement that SyFy has renewed Haven. The cliffhanger will be resolved! That show is really, really pretty on Blu-Ray. So many of the shots would work perfectly as postcards. And that's not even getting into the cast. I don't know if it's the balance on my TV or something specific to the lighting/photography of this show, but the blues really pop, and that means blue eyes are even more gorgeous.
Needless to say, yesterday wasn't very productive. I think I have some ideas for fixing the current problem in The Problem Child, but I spent most of the time mentally composing e-mails I should never send while narrowing down on one that needs to be sent. Today I must obtain groceries. I think this weekend I'll make my first batch of veggie soup for the fall. And I think I will allow myself copious amounts of chocolate and maybe some long walks to balance it. It feels weird to be so discombobulated about bad things that aren't happening directly to me, but I suppose I am human and I'm allowed to have feelings. That's why I had the emotion chip installed, after all.
October 12, 2011
Wakefulness
It's a good thing I found tea yesterday because last night was not conducive to much sleep. One problem was the big thunderstorm that hit about 3 a.m. -- the kind with enough thunder and lightning to make me get up and run around the house unplugging electronics, and then since we tend to get hail with that kind of storm I ran onto the patio and moved my new herb pots up under the balcony.
That was after it took me a long time to get to sleep because I'm wrestling with a couple of career issues that are kind of no-win scenarios. With one situation, I seem to be dealing with something that is literally not working for me, but saying anything about it tends to make matters worse. Doing something decisive about it is a huge risk. It could either be something that would make a big change for the better or it could be a career killer, and I can't know which it would be before I take action. Even in a best-case scenario there would still be lots of complications. But I'm not sure I can deal with things continuing the way they are now.
Yes, that's awfully cryptic, but that's part of the dilemma. I can't even really talk about what's going on or ask advice without taking a big risk. Thus the lack of sleep.
Meanwhile, apparently my plagiarist is still out there, as I'm getting more e-mail from readers letting me know that when they do an Internet search on a writing topic, they're getting someone else's blog, with a nearly word-for-word copy of my posts. Worse, that other person's blog comes higher in the search results, probably because his posts are more recent since, you know, they're copies. I'm not sure what I can do about that, either. I don't like the idea of him getting away with it, but any direct action could also backfire on me, and I don't need an Internet nutjob coming after me right now. I don't think I'm a big enough name that the publishing blogs or big-name writers would get involved and turn it into a public shaming that would raise my profile as a victim. I know I'm not the only one he's copying. It seems that very little on his how-to-write site is his own work.
I even hesitate to post links for people to check out because having links to his site will only raise his profile in the search engines. Then again, having minions to call him on the copying instead of me doing it directly could be a strategy.
When the bigger problem was occupying too much space in my brain, I seem to have moved on to the smaller problem to try to figure out a solution.
And during all this, I've been working out a few problems with The Problem Child. It turns out that the big issue isn't where I thought it was (or that wasn't the only issue). There's something missing from one of the plot lines, and I'm not sure what it is. It's like I just sort of forget one of the plot threads for a very long time, leaving those people in suspended animation. I guess I'm out of practice in writing a book with multiple points of view.
On the up side, butterflies! It's monarch migration time, and they're swarming to the park across the street that's full of plants that draw butterflies. Since I have some brainstorming to do, I may take a notebook over there and see if sitting surrounded by butterflies helps stimulate my creativity.
I've decided that maybe my idea of taking an at-home vacation isn't going to work. That is, I shouldn't just take a whole week off. What I may do is allow myself to call in on vacation on any day when I don't have something pressing. I used to think about that when I had a real job. There would be a cool, rainy day that was perfect for curling up with a pot of tea and a good book, and I had nothing urgent at work, and I'd wish I could just call in on vacation that day. Or there would be a perfect day for a hike or a trip downtown. When you have to schedule vacations in advance, you never know what kind of day you're going to get. But now I work for myself, and since after this week all my deadlines should be met (assuming I can get the necessary cooperation from others), I may declare that from now until the end of the year, I have a certain number of days I can spontaneously declare to be vacation days. If it's a good reading day, I'll take a day to read. If I'm in the mood for a long walk or an excursion, I'll do it. That may be more likely to happen than attempting to schedule time off.
And, yes, thinking of this idea also kept me awake.
That was after it took me a long time to get to sleep because I'm wrestling with a couple of career issues that are kind of no-win scenarios. With one situation, I seem to be dealing with something that is literally not working for me, but saying anything about it tends to make matters worse. Doing something decisive about it is a huge risk. It could either be something that would make a big change for the better or it could be a career killer, and I can't know which it would be before I take action. Even in a best-case scenario there would still be lots of complications. But I'm not sure I can deal with things continuing the way they are now.
Yes, that's awfully cryptic, but that's part of the dilemma. I can't even really talk about what's going on or ask advice without taking a big risk. Thus the lack of sleep.
Meanwhile, apparently my plagiarist is still out there, as I'm getting more e-mail from readers letting me know that when they do an Internet search on a writing topic, they're getting someone else's blog, with a nearly word-for-word copy of my posts. Worse, that other person's blog comes higher in the search results, probably because his posts are more recent since, you know, they're copies. I'm not sure what I can do about that, either. I don't like the idea of him getting away with it, but any direct action could also backfire on me, and I don't need an Internet nutjob coming after me right now. I don't think I'm a big enough name that the publishing blogs or big-name writers would get involved and turn it into a public shaming that would raise my profile as a victim. I know I'm not the only one he's copying. It seems that very little on his how-to-write site is his own work.
I even hesitate to post links for people to check out because having links to his site will only raise his profile in the search engines. Then again, having minions to call him on the copying instead of me doing it directly could be a strategy.
When the bigger problem was occupying too much space in my brain, I seem to have moved on to the smaller problem to try to figure out a solution.
And during all this, I've been working out a few problems with The Problem Child. It turns out that the big issue isn't where I thought it was (or that wasn't the only issue). There's something missing from one of the plot lines, and I'm not sure what it is. It's like I just sort of forget one of the plot threads for a very long time, leaving those people in suspended animation. I guess I'm out of practice in writing a book with multiple points of view.
On the up side, butterflies! It's monarch migration time, and they're swarming to the park across the street that's full of plants that draw butterflies. Since I have some brainstorming to do, I may take a notebook over there and see if sitting surrounded by butterflies helps stimulate my creativity.
I've decided that maybe my idea of taking an at-home vacation isn't going to work. That is, I shouldn't just take a whole week off. What I may do is allow myself to call in on vacation on any day when I don't have something pressing. I used to think about that when I had a real job. There would be a cool, rainy day that was perfect for curling up with a pot of tea and a good book, and I had nothing urgent at work, and I'd wish I could just call in on vacation that day. Or there would be a perfect day for a hike or a trip downtown. When you have to schedule vacations in advance, you never know what kind of day you're going to get. But now I work for myself, and since after this week all my deadlines should be met (assuming I can get the necessary cooperation from others), I may declare that from now until the end of the year, I have a certain number of days I can spontaneously declare to be vacation days. If it's a good reading day, I'll take a day to read. If I'm in the mood for a long walk or an excursion, I'll do it. That may be more likely to happen than attempting to schedule time off.
And, yes, thinking of this idea also kept me awake.
October 11, 2011
The Quest for Tea
While looking for something to watch while I ate dinner last night, I stumbled across a fun little animated movie on the Disney Channel: Igor. It's about an Igor who really wants to be a mad scientist, but because of his hump he's stuck in the job of assistant. But then after his master has a bit of a lab accident, he gets his chance to create his own monster to compete in the Evil Science Fair. Only things don't quite go as planned, and instead of being evil, his monster just wants to be an actress. And the role she desperately wants to play is Annie (which may be kind of evil, after all). The climactic fight scene done as the monster sings "Tomorrow" may be one of the funniest things I've seen in ages. Adding to the fun are Igor's sidekicks, the results of his previous experiments: an immortal (and very snarky) rabbit with a death wish and a brain in a jar on wheels. I'm assuming this was a theatrical release because the voices are all pretty big names, so I don't know how I missed this one. This could make for a good triple feature with Megamind and Despicable Me, or else a good addition to a Phineas & Ferb marathon featuring the best of Doofenshmirtz (especially their Frankenstein spoof).
Then I was accidentally forced into watching part of Terra Nova when the schedule got messed up by the baseball game and House wasn't on when I switched over after the movie. From the small bits I saw, I can say I made the right decision in not watching that series. The dialogue and the characters made me cringe. I very quickly switched over to a PBS documentary on the War of 1812. I'm also likely to give up on House. The character has never been what could be called "pleasant," but I think he's a more unpleasant version of unpleasant now. At the beginning, it was more like he said the things we all think but don't dare say, and then he said and did some of his more outrageous things as a diagnostic technique -- poke it with a stick and see what happens -- that helped him figure out the people around him. Now he's just acting like a selfish, overgrown toddler who thinks he's at the center of the universe and who expects everyone to cater to his whims. There's less of a purpose in his behavior and there's nothing left in him that I can relate to. Unfortunately, now that the SyFy summer season has ended, there's nothing else in that time slot, and that's my prime time for needing background noise for doing my weekly writing for the medical school (I enjoy the irony of doing medical writing while watching House).
Today's work will mean hitting the part of The Problem Child that will really change it and send it in a different direction. It will be interesting to see how the ripple effects work from this one change. This is such a strange book that I'm not sure how any of it works. I love it, and I love the characters, but I'm worried that anyone else reading it will be going, "Huh?" Once I have it where I'm happy with it, I may recruit a few friends to read it before I subject my agent to it. This is the longest I've spent working on a single book. It's been more than two years since I started it. I have written two other complete manuscripts in the meantime, so I haven't spent two whole years working on it, but I did spend the better part of a year working on it, with a couple of gaps, and then spent about a month on the last draft. I don't know how long this draft will take.
Otherwise, today I must undertake the Quest for Tea. I'm almost out of my favorite writing tea, and we finally have the kind of weather that allows me to enjoy hot tea in the afternoon. Fortunately, obtaining tea is easier than ever since there's an Indian market across the street from the post office. They have an entire aisle dedicated to tea.
Then I was accidentally forced into watching part of Terra Nova when the schedule got messed up by the baseball game and House wasn't on when I switched over after the movie. From the small bits I saw, I can say I made the right decision in not watching that series. The dialogue and the characters made me cringe. I very quickly switched over to a PBS documentary on the War of 1812. I'm also likely to give up on House. The character has never been what could be called "pleasant," but I think he's a more unpleasant version of unpleasant now. At the beginning, it was more like he said the things we all think but don't dare say, and then he said and did some of his more outrageous things as a diagnostic technique -- poke it with a stick and see what happens -- that helped him figure out the people around him. Now he's just acting like a selfish, overgrown toddler who thinks he's at the center of the universe and who expects everyone to cater to his whims. There's less of a purpose in his behavior and there's nothing left in him that I can relate to. Unfortunately, now that the SyFy summer season has ended, there's nothing else in that time slot, and that's my prime time for needing background noise for doing my weekly writing for the medical school (I enjoy the irony of doing medical writing while watching House).
Today's work will mean hitting the part of The Problem Child that will really change it and send it in a different direction. It will be interesting to see how the ripple effects work from this one change. This is such a strange book that I'm not sure how any of it works. I love it, and I love the characters, but I'm worried that anyone else reading it will be going, "Huh?" Once I have it where I'm happy with it, I may recruit a few friends to read it before I subject my agent to it. This is the longest I've spent working on a single book. It's been more than two years since I started it. I have written two other complete manuscripts in the meantime, so I haven't spent two whole years working on it, but I did spend the better part of a year working on it, with a couple of gaps, and then spent about a month on the last draft. I don't know how long this draft will take.
Otherwise, today I must undertake the Quest for Tea. I'm almost out of my favorite writing tea, and we finally have the kind of weather that allows me to enjoy hot tea in the afternoon. Fortunately, obtaining tea is easier than ever since there's an Indian market across the street from the post office. They have an entire aisle dedicated to tea.
