Cynthia Rogan's Blog, page 4

Flipping Good

[image error]I was driving home tonight.

It was already dark.

I imagine the Super Bowl was still going on but, I’m not sure. I didn’t watch it.

I had a writing project to work on.

I turned a corner and caught movement in my peripheral.

It was a boy, probably between five and seven.

He was in his flannel pajamas, robe, and slippers, jumping on a trampoline in his side yard.

I caught him just as he did a back flip.

Then another.

And another.

He was amazing.

From my point of view, the flips were flawless.

I wondered if his parents were caught up in the game.

I imagined him sneaking quietly out the side door so he could do something he really loved.

Back flip.

Back flip.

Back flip.

And I realized, that’s how I feel about my writing when I’m excited about a project. Only, I don’t have to sneak out a side door, or a back door, but I CAN do it in PJs if I want to.

So here I go. I’d better get back to my project.

Back flip.

Back flip.

Back flip.

Not as flawless as his. And I hope I don’t get dizzy before I finish.

Maybe you should get back to your trampoline, too.

Talk to you soon.

HAVE A !%$*&@! DAY

[image error]My gym schedules regular aquatic exercise classes. On those days, I have to get there at just the right time. I have to squeeze myself between the scheduled classes.

Normally, that’s fine.

Today, there was someone in each lane.

Now, we’re required to share a lane if necessary, but it can be a tight squeeze. Sometimes squashing my swimming into half a lane irritates my shoulders so, I was happy when I noticed that a woman looked like she was getting out. She stopped at the side of the lane and was stretching. I asked if I could share. She said, “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

So I said, “Since you’re using the outside of the lane, I imagine you want me to use the inside of the lane.”

She said, “No. I’m using the middle. I’ll be out when I’m finished.”

I was a little confused. I used my kindergarten teacher voice. “We need to share.”

“There are five other lanes,” she said. “Share with one of them.”

Huh?

She was stretching in one spot. She was about to get out. I stood there, giving her adequate time to think about our situation.

“Fine,” she said. “You’ve already decided that you’re not going to wait. So, I guess I’m done.” She stomped out of the pool. “It wouldn’t kill you to wait for me to finish.”

I watched her as she put on her robe, grabbed her towel and stormed away. At the door, she turned back for one last glare, as if to say, “Have a !%$*&@! day.”

I slid into the pool. The water was perfect.

As I swam, I couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said. How did she know what would kill me and what wouldn’t?

I’m very sensitive about time. We only have so much. So, when I have to wait 10 minutes for someone who isn’t ready or I find myself in a situation where I have 15 minutes to kill through no fault of my own, I think about what I could be getting done. Waiting 5 minutes, unnecessarily for this woman to get out of the pool just because she didn’t feel like sharing a lane, would have cost me 5 minutes. Forever.

Eventually, I was able to do my meditative swimming and I know the rest of my day will be productive and good because, now that I’ve told you about my morning, I won’t let it take up any more of my day. After all, the time we use up, we don’t get it back. Better to do something good with it.

Like write.

Radio Days

[image error]For the last few weeks, in addition to my regular schedule, I’ve had a side project. It’s been fun and a little like having multiple personalities. See, I’ve been playing the roles of three characters in the Radio Days series produced by Collaborative Theatre Project—CTP. At first I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it. Three different people with three different voices and attitudes? Thinking about their story helped some, but changing my posture for each one seemed to make the most difference. They each have their own way of standing and, once I found that, I could adjust my voice and my attitude accordingly. Honestly, I don’t know how the actors who read for audio books do it. They have to sound like different genders, ages, personalities, and attitudes, and these creations start fresh with every book they record. Amazing!

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In the show, there are stand-up mics (that look like the one above), a table full of manual sound effects, the person who operates that table, seven actors, a director (doing double-duty as sound assistant), and the behind-the-scene magicians who make sure things happen how and when they’re supposed to.

The first reading is an episode of Fibber McGee and Molly called Scrap Drive. The second is The Gibson Murder Case, a Richard Diamond, Private Detective mystery.

The show will run one more day, Saturday, September 30th at 1:30 p.m.

For tickets, please go to the CTP website, click on Radio Days and scroll down to Fibber McGee and Molly.

http://collaborativetheat.wixsite.com/landing-page/copy-of-home

Or just show up at the door.

Either way, we’d love to see you there.

 

Water

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I loved the water, even before I could swim.

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I learned to swim when I was still in single digits. My family lived in Florida. There was a lot of water around us. It was a safety issue.

Mama never learned how to swim, so I took lessons. When the swimming instructor told me to hang on to the side of the pool and float, I was all too happy to do that. But, when she told me to let go of the side and float, I was terrified. I could NOT do it! It wasn’t that I didn’t trust the teacher. I didn’t trust the water.

The instructor had to convince me step by step that, if I just believed in the power of the water to carry me, it wouldn’t let me down.

“If you trust it, it will hold you up,” she said.

Eventually, I was able to relax and do that.

These days, I swim every chance I get. That’s almost every day.

And even though I understand the science behind why the water holds me up, I am still filled with wonder each time I am able to stretch out and float.

There is so much magic in the world.

Sometimes, when we can explain it, we no longer see it as magic.

Sometimes, it loses its magic when we take it for granted.

Pay attention to the ordinary things that happen in your life.

Watch for the magic.

It’s there.

Taking Census

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If you ever have a few minutes to kill, try digging around in the U.S. Census. It forces you to really think about what went before us, how far we’ve come, and how far we still have to go.

When I was writing Switch,* I needed to know how it would feel to search for someone’s history via the handwritten journals that were the census in the beginning. When the census began in 1790, it wanted each household broken down into the number of: free white males 16 and over, free white males under 16, free white females, other free persons, and slaves.

According to that first census, there were 3,929,328** people living in the U.S. 697,697 of them were slaves. That’s about 18% of the population.

By 1860, more territories had become states. The population had grown to 31,443,323 and 3,953,760*** (13%) of those people were slaves (Something I read indicated that number included both Black and Native American people). At that point, many of the northern states had greatly reduced or eliminated the number of slaves they reported. The southern states had the largest percentages with South Carolina (57%) and Mississippi (55%) reporting the highest numbers.

By that time, the census had added more questions and it’s clear from the report for that year, they were cross-referencing the information in a multitude of ways. The actual census pages held all the address-type information on the left. The columns to the right noted the number of people in the house, their names and relationships, gender, and race (which was now split between, Free White, Free Black (including Black and “Mulatto” peoples, Free “Civilized Indians,” and “Slaves.” There was a notation that almost 40,000 “Asiatics” had been included in the Free White category.)

Each person’s occupation was recorded in a column.**** Whether or not they owned the home they were living in was noted in another. It was clear that some families were farming on land that was rented. Some childrens’ occupations were listed as “Farm Labor,” some as “School.” My eyes automatically calculated the difference between children birthed and children living.

I introduced myself to some of those families on the pages of the census. I thought about them, wondered what it must have been like to walk in their shoes, or their bare feet. That put me in the perfect place to write Switch.

Talk to you soon.

*A portion of Switch takes place in 1915.

**Not that this is at all important but, just so you know, I found a 2 person addition error.

*** That’s more than the entire 1790 U.S. population.

****I was surprised to see that the list of California occupations began with Actors and Agents. There were Brokers, too, and something called a Daguerreotypist. I looked it up. It’s some kind of early photographer/developer person that uses a special silver technique.

A Change That Will Stick

This year, I’m having a really big birthday. Can you keep a secret? I’m gonna be older than I’ve been in my entire life. But this birthday’s got me, wondering: Have I made a difference?

At home, I have this sign by my door that says, “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” I look at it every morning as I leave for work. But nothing about my job makes the world a better place. I count money for a living. At work, if someone says the word CHANGE, they mean the green, silver, and copper kind.

But the kind of change I need comes with growth and new knowledge, and sometimes, lots of chocolate and maybe a little too much wine.

Change has always terrified me.

Right before I graduated from High School, Granny told me, “Cynthia, sugar. All life is is a bunch of changes all strung together. You can’t be afraid. It’s like a box in pretty paper all tied up with a bow. [image error]In that box could be the best thing that ever happened to you. OR it could be the worst. If you never look, you’ll never know. But if you hear somethin’ hissin’ and rattling in there, don’t open it. Could be a snake.”

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After that, I decided I’d rather help others change than open that box myself. Just seemed like a better plan. That’s when I started writing plays & novels. All these years, I’ve been waiting for my words to make it out into the world, to make a difference. And here they are. Still waiting. It’s not my fault. I did my part. I wrote the words. Do I have to sell them too? I can’t do everything. Unless, I quit my job.Yes!

No!

I am a mess. It’s this gargantuan birthday looming.

I realized last week that if I plan to be the change that sign by my door is talking about, I have to hurry. Somehow, I have to move to the express lane of difference-making.

So I consulted Ms. Google. When I asked her about “Women changing the world,” she had an answer right away.

I wasn’t surprised to learn that a woman invented the Pooper scooper. Or the bra. Somebody had to get us out of the corset, right? But Monopoly? The circular saw? Women invented so many important things and often someone else, usually a man, received credit for their work. That makes the next statement extra sweet. Eat your heart out guys. A WOMAN invented DUCT TAPE!  [image error]

Ha!

Her name was Vesta Stoudt.

It was WWII. Vesta was doing her part packing and inspecting boxes of rifle grenade cartridges. One day she found out that the paper tape they sealed the boxes with was breaking when soldiers tried to pull it off. So there they were, under enemy fire, having to scramble and claw to open those boxes.

Vesta had an idea: A cloth based, water proof tape. She went to her supervisor, and his supervisor, and his supervisor and his supervisor. Everybody kept saying, “The war department’s not going to change the tape.”

So Vesta wrote a letter to President Roosevelt.

I’ll bet those supervisors were surprised when Johnson and Johnson started making army green Duck Tape (When they started making it in silver to close ducts during installation, they began calling it DUCT tape.)

That’s the very same tape astronauts used to repair Apollo 13 and 17.

Did you know, duct tape can double the trade in value of a rusty car. And it removes unwanted hair. And warts. The silver makes an unforgettable prom dress. You can even use it as a strapless bra. Just make sure you have some of that medical tape remover on hand. Okay? OR, ouch.

These days it comes in hundreds of colors and patterns and you can do amazing things with it.[image error]

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Lexus snack dish

My favorite is a decorative snack dish that fits right into the drink carrier of your Lexus.

I know Vesta would have been so proud, but I wanted to use her tape in a way that would honor the spirit in which she created it; in a way that could be my express lane to difference making, and I found it.

The Vesta Stoudt commemorative war prevention kit.

[image error]It includes a 5-inch piece of duct tape that, when strategically placed (in a timely manner), can prevent any argument. In the interest of peace, please pick up a kit today.

Keep one in the dash of your car for family trips. Keep one in the pantry for quick dinner table access. And if you’re under the impression that your family doesn’t need a kit, send some out into the world.

Use them wherever you think they’ll make the most difference.

Join me in seizing this opportunity to be that change in the world. Let’s make a change that will stick.

Write on

The show I told you about in my last blog was a wonderful success. I got to know my character so well it took me about three weeks to completely shake her shadow. If you watch the show in the link provided, you will see that Darla Thompson’s depression didn’t creep in “on little cat feet.” The little cat feet carried it away, or at least they eased it.

I wouldn’t call myself a cat person. I have a greater connection with dogs, but I wanted to explore what might emotionally push someone to collect stray cats. I was led by my curiosity, stirred by the memory of an old news story, then I added some cayenne pepper, a spoonful of sugar, and voila. Darla Thompson emerged.

Often, that’s how I write: a little truth, a little fiction, a little spice, a little sweetness. Then I let my fellow writers taste-test the batter. I listen to their feedback and adjust the recipe slightly. When I’m satisfied that it tastes like something I’ve completed, I serve that product to beta readers.

It’s an amazing process.

It’s a process that takes a long time when you have a day job.

Sometimes I think it’s too hard, that I should just give it up.

Have a life.

Then I realize I do have a life.

The life of a writer.

There’s a list of authors who have supported themselves with day jobs. Virginia Wolff ran Hogarth Press. T. S. Eliot worked at Lloyd’s Bank. Frank McCourt taught high school and college. Franz Kafka was an insurance guy. Lewis Carroll was a mathematician, a photographer, and a teacher. William Faulkner was the supervisor of a power plant. Dostoyevsky was an engineer. Kerouac picked cotton, washed dishes, worked as a night guard, a gas station attendant, a fire lookout, a deckhand, and a railroad brakeman. That list of authors is huge and it’s still growing. I’m not saying that I belong with the group I just mentioned, but I am on the list.

Cynthia Rogan is also an accountant.

So there!

Write on.

Thanks for reading.

Shaped by Experience

 

Cynthia Rogan will perform her new play, Cat-a-tonic.

Okay,  so the director made me take the photo up there as promo for Cat-a-tonic. I was a bit resistant. But . . . here it is, just the same.  And here’s some more about the entire show. We’re in for some fun nights and if you can make it to the show, you’re in for some fun too.

 Amy Katrina, Cynthia Rogan, Lyda Woods, Leanne Zinkand

 Theater:  Solo Performances   Shaped by Experience

Ashland, Oregon:  Five local actor/writers present multi-character monologues along the lines of Lily Tomlin’s “Search for Intelligent Life in the Universe.” These funny, personal, original pieces take you into new theatrical territory. According to Lyda Woods, the producer, you will: “Meet Ratsmacker and his 30 feline siblings, watch a schizophrenic babysitter play his mind at full volume, visit a young woman on death row, and achieve neutral buoyancy.”

The show plays Friday, Saturday, and Sunday January 4 and 5 at 8 pm, and Sunday, Jan. 6 at 2:30 pm. at the Ashland Community Center, 59 Winburn Way in Ashland. Tickets are $12, available at the door for cash or check, and online at Brown Paper Tickets (http://www.brownpapertickets.com/even...).    This production is sponsored, in part, by the Ashland Contemporary Theatre.

The eight theater artists involved are Lyda Woods, Cynthia Rogan, Susan Knapp, Amy Katrina Bryan, and Leanne Zinkand.  Cassandra Wass serves as acting coach; Jeffrey Hayes is stage manager, and Andrew Trent, who has also lit ACT shows, is lighting designer.

Lyda Woods performs “Ozma’s Storm,” a piece about a psychiatrist mother who gets her favorite mental patients to babysit her daughters. Lyda has run the entertainment production company, Gumshoe Gourmet, for 8 years, producing shows for the Ashland Springs Hotel, Eden Valley Orchards, Harry & David, the Children’s’ Miracle Network, the American Cancer Society, and others. She teaches Writing at Rogue Community College and founded Levity Improv: Lighten Your Heart, an improv group that performs throughout the Rogue Valley.

Find out about free improv classes at http://www.facebook.com/levityimprov or book a murder mystery at http://www.facebook.com/gumshoegourmet

Cynthia Rogan performs “Catatonic,” which explores the life of a cat hoarder whose memories intrude on her present. Rogan, a playwright and novelist, discovered through adolescent eavesdropping that characters are everywhere. “We all have our stories and our problems and our own way of looking at the world. And we all have the ability to touch someone else. So, we are never really alone.” Rogan’s novel, Symphony of Dreams, was published in 2012.

In Susan Knapp’s, “The Real Story” a woman on death row tries to convince a reporter to help her get clemency for a murder she blames on her circumstances. Knapp is an east coast transplant who arrived in Ashland 4 years ago. She’s been writing for a long time, but this is her first performance piece.

Amy Katrina Bryan who performs Knapp’s piece, is an equity membership candidate recently seen in “Cabaret” at the Napa Opera House, and as Helene in The Willow Theater production “A Doll’s House”. Amy works in Southern Oregon as a  music and acting coach as well as the drummer for the band “The Stamps” which are preparing for a tour in L.A and New York in the summer.

Zinkand performs “Neutral Buoyancy, about a woman on her checkout dive, moved by a vibrant undersea world, playing in a kelp forest until she runs into trouble. Leanne is a fiction writer, graphic designer and scuba diver. She recently published her first novel, The Spaghetti Afterlife.

Smiling in the face of fear

Raising my girls is the scariest, most wonderful thing I’ve ever done.

Publishing Symphony of Dreams is probably second on the list. I must admit it’s neck and neck  with being part of a live improv show which I did last Saturday. However, in an improv show, you work with others in the crew and the show is over within–say–two hours. In publishing, you’re out there solo.  And . . . for a great deal of that time, the audience is silent. I am so grateful to the bloggers and reviewers who religiously read and post. Otherwise, that silence would possibly drag on forever.

Kirkus is a company that has been reviewing books since 1933. I wanted them to take a look at Symphony of Dreams, so I submitted the book to them on June 13th of this year. Part of me couldn’t wait until the review was done. The rest of me was terrified. Their opinion holds a lot of weight and every time I thought about what they would say, my stomach ached.

I received my Kirkus review today and I cried off and on for an hour. They confirmed what the readers have been saying. I was completely blown away. So, thanks to all you readers and bloggers and reviewers who believe in Symphony. Please keep talking about the story and help me get it out there. Oh . . . and thanks, Kirkus.

What do you think? Should I have them publish the review in their catalog?

With love,

Cindy

 

Too busy to breathe

Lately, I’ve been stuck.

Somehow, I over-committed. It was out of love, as usual. Love of words, love of writing, love of friends.

Between work, trying to market Symphony of Dreams, helping a friend with his manuscript, working on a solo-performance, and trying to get The Courier ready for publication, I lost “something.” First, my sense of humor seemed to vanish (except at points of near hysteria). Then, I couldn’t track what I was working on. I had to keep an updated list for every little thing. No matter what I was doing, I felt I should be doing something else. A sense of panic set in. One day, I realized I had completely lost perspective.

I had to stop.

Everything. (Except work. Like most of us, I have bills to pay.)

I was sick about returning the friend’s manuscript. But he accepted it with understanding and encouraged me to take some time off. For a couple of weeks, I just flopped around not knowing where to go or what to do. I waited, hoping my internal voice would point me in the right direction. And it did.

For now, I have backed off a little on the marketing of Symphony. I am taking turns working on The Courier and the solo piece.

Tonight, I sat down to watch and old DVD a friend loaned me. There, in front of the screen when my mind was free of have to-s and will do-s, I found that “something” I’d lost.

And here it is:  It’s not getting everybody’s attention that matters most. It’s what you say while you have it. Right?