Just call me Gracie

I've been increasingly concerned with sharp objects at the Day Job lately. When we cook, we soak dirty dishes as much as possible, and until recently, knives and other sharp objects were in 'general population', sometimes covered with water. I knew it was a matter of time before I sliced my hand open and said so to one of my co-workers. Always the inventive one, she suggested that we put a silverware holder in the sink for knives, which was a grand idea.

Today all the sharp objects were carefully segregated. Knowing something is sharp is only half the battle. The other half is to not get in a hurry while washing. I caught my thumb and part of my nail with a double-edged serrated blade. It bled like the dickens, but I threw a Band-aid on it, put on a rubber glove, and finished the dishes. I was pretty sure I'd notice if I bled through the Band-aid and into the glove. For some reason, The Boss didn't think that was funny.

Discipline

I am not a disciplined person by nature. It takes a long time to break bad habits and form good ones. Unfortunately, it's the bad habits that are almost second nature and take no time at all to form!

Last year was a bad writing year. It's over, done, and I'm trying to improve upon it. Honestly, the only way is forward because backward means not writing at all ever again. Still, I'm spinning my wheels. When I write, the internal editor whispers that I'll probably have to edit out a lot of scenes; the whole book can't be about Marissa. In the grand scheme, Marcus and Marissa are a little tiny piece, and that makes it harder because I have to more concise. I don't do concise very well, either. It's discouraging to think about spending time on something that will hit the cutting room floor. Occasionally I'll find an old scene that can be refurbished for use in another story. That's always good, and that's why I don't toss the deleted scenes.

The trouble is I really just want this book to be done, and I feel like I'm dithering. That makes it harder to go upstairs and turn on the laptop. The internal dialogue goes something like this:

Id: I don't feel like writing. The book isn't moving forward and it's cold up there.

Super Ego (SE): So turn on the heater and and put scenes in order. Then you might be able to see how much more you need on Marissa.

Id: But it's all going to change. That's what I did wrong with The Dragon's Lady. I put it together too soon and it took three times longer to edit than to write.

SE: It was also the first book, had three authors, and needed to be tweaked. You never write a perfect story the first go-round.

Id: But-

SE: Get over it already, would you? Go upstairs and get to work. The book isn't going to finish itself. You're going to have to edit anyway, so go get working.

That's usually when I drag myself up the stairs, muttering. It's all true. It's hard, it's discouraging, and it is cold upstairs, but the book isn't going to finish itself. So I'm off to turn on the laptop and the heater so I can get my work done. Then I'll come back down and sit by the fire and read my book. Damn Super Ego.

Benefit concert video

I don't think I mentioned in the last post that a couple news stations came to the Benefit. Here's a story that ran last night on KSDK news. Naturally I have it taped, too. Yeah, I'm that much of a dork! Jeez, we had fun yesterday!

The power of suggestion

Middle of last November, I was rehearsing with Dudley's Rush. We were wrapping up when one of the girls asked if anyone thought we should do a benefit concert for a local police officer who had been shot in the face in the line of duty. We all agreed it would be a great idea; the family was sure to have a lot of medical bills because the officer's injuries were quite extensive. He'll need several reconstructive surgeries and rehab because he lost his sight.

Fast-forward to today, a bare two months later. I spent the entire day at church, starting with worship, moving into rehearsals, and then the concert. During a little piece of down time I noticed a little boy from our congregation setting up a table with a basket of rubber balls and a big jar. He was selling the balls to raise money for the police officer. He'd been to another benefit a couple weeks ago and raised $119.50. I bought some balls for the cats and told him he needed to break $120.

We had five music groups, different kinds from Bluegrass to Barbershop, and the concert was a total of 1 1/2 hours. The church was packed. We had more people than on Christmas Eve and Easter. The sanctuary seats about 500; we might have been able to get a half-dozen more in if we'd had to. I was floored when the pastor announced that we'd raised over $7,100. I'm still floored.

And the little boy with the bouncy balls? He blew his record away--$205.

It's a rare thing to have something that big come together in less than two months, especially considering the holidays were stuck in the middle. It's magical, miraculous. We had over 500 angels in our church today.