Monday, April 8, 2013

Having It Both Ways

I am both writer and editor.

Being a writer makes me a better editor, too. Not because it makes me a better writer--oh, no, I don't delude myself in that--but because I understand what a writer is going through during the editing process. Though I've taught English for 20 years, I have never forgotten the feeling of receiving an essay back--with comments and a grade--assessing the effectiveness of what I've written.

I know what a writer wants when he or she has me edit. That is the very thing which makes editing so hard. The writer wants two things, always two things. The problem is that these two things do not exist together. One cannot have it "both ways," so to speak. In fact, the very act of seeking professional editing guarantees that one will not receive one of the things one desires most.

What do writers want? Well, if writers are willing to spend hundreds of dollars having me edit a novel, it's because they want someone to examine their work for holes, errors, weaknesses--anything that might lose a reader's interest, or get in the way of the suspense, or confuse, or irritate. They want my insight--as an honest, knowledgeable outside reader--to help them see what they can't see on their own, so that they can fix it.

And that is no problem.

But that is not only what writers want. I would say that this is only a practical want. What writers want, deep in the recesses of the most secret part of their hearts, is something else entirely.

We all want it. We want it in other areas of our lives. It's called validation. Appreciation. That joy others express when they view something we do as wonderful.

What my poor authors want is for me to write back and tell them I would edit their work, but it's already perfect as it is--that I wouldn't change a thing, and I'm sending back their check in the mail this very day.

But if I told them that, I wouldn't be doing my job. My job is to tell them what isn't good. Sure, I also get to tell them what is good, and I do, but they don't need to know that as much as they need to see what isn't. I might be able to suggest effective ways to fix what isn't good, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

Believe me, though. I know it. I know it because I am there, too. That's why I have sat on four completed novels all this time. I go back to my work, time after time, and I see that it still isn't ready, that it still needs work.

That is why I don't trust the reader who only sends me good feedback. I know the truth, and I know this reader isn't telling me the truth.

She is only telling me what, deep in my heart, I really want to hear.

But that is not enough.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Happy

Not sunny skies
Not rain
Not snow
Heat
Cold
Not your personal preference
Greeting you

It's the smile
The willingness to feel
The world as it is
No matter what

Not success
Not praise
Not togetherness
Alone time
Peace

It's the balance
One feels
Being wherever one is
At that very moment

Not outside
Not the fault of others
Not determined by the day
The list
The goals

It's the mere joy
Of living
In a world brightened
Only
By the magic of one's mind.

Friday, March 29, 2013

The Things I've Learned

I had a whole rant written.

Yup. I wrote it about two weeks ago. It was snarky. It would have made you raise your hackles (whatever that means), get righteously angry, and feel all sorts of sympathy for me.

But it won't be happening. I don't really need sympathy.

No one died. No one was seriously damaged. In the end, we finished the play, and it went okay.

Suffice it to say that I'm done. Absolutely done. I'll be going this morning to the theatre to clean up the costumes, put them all back where they belong, and be finished with it.

And then I'll put myself back where I belong. Which is not at the theatre. At least not that theatre.

I've learned a great deal about myself through this, too. Some good things, some bad.


  1. I don't give up on things very easily. If I've given up on you, or on a project, it was only because the project was simply impossible to complete. I'll keep my claws tightly grasping a wall on a climb up even if you're throwing bricks at my head. And not missing. I'll just grit my teeth, wipe the blood out of my eyes, and keep going.
  2. I can give up. Watch out if I do, though. It's likely going to be permanent. I should warn the hubby right now that if we ever divorce, I will likely never speak to him again. Not ever. My family figured that one out 20 years ago. I'm sure they think I'll relent at some point, but every year I second guess my decision less and less (i.e., not at all). 
  3. I don't waste my time on people who hurt me. I especially don't waste my time on people who hurt my kids. And my kids are my first priority, so they trump everything else. People who think I'm going to be okay with them slapping one of my kids (figuratively) across the face, or throwing bricks at my eight-year-old son while he is trying to climb a wall better be ready to have bricks thrown back at them. 
  4. I will take the high road. But I'll only do it once. And you'll never have the chance to make me do it again. See #2.
I guess that makes me determined and stubborn, and, like Mr. Darcy, "My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever." 

Now, though, I have time free--free enough to walk, exercise, play with my kids, paint, and, THANK GOD, write. 

Off to walk. Then shower. Then write. 

It'll be a good day.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

The Light at the End of a Very Dark Tunnel

Six more performances, and the current torture of my life will be over.

It should have been brilliant. It should have been sheer joy. It should have been so many wonderful, fantastic, amazing things.

Instead, it has just be pain, betrayal, and lies. Lots and lots of lies.

I have kept my mouth shut, but stay tuned and you'll get the whole skinny.

Next Sunday. After the last performance. When it's all over.

When I can breathe again. When I'm out of this dark tunnel and back in the open air, back in the sunshine, back in the true world.


Stay tuned...

Monday, March 11, 2013

Another Birthday

Well, I've made it to another milestone. Funny how time still passes, even when I don't feel like I'm getting anything done. It feels like just another long day at this point, but I finally see an end to the emotional turmoil I've been in.

The play is in its last week of rehearsal, and first week of performance, so my kids and I will be in the thick of it all this week--every single day until about 10:30 p.m. It'll wear on them, I know, but it'll wear on me, too. I am old, after all, and not used to staying up past 10 p.m.

Two more weeks, though, and this OLIVER! will be over. I'll miss the music, and I'll miss wearing my costume (I'm keeping the cap to wear around the house, just for fun), but I don't think I'll miss anything else. Pretty sad, really. A lot of work, and the payoff this time isn't close to worth it. But we stuck it out, despite everything, and I can leave it behind on my own terms, without (too much) bitterness.

Still, in the end, we did it, all of us. Maybe in a few years, in a different venue, when the kids are a little older and I'm still not too old, we'll do something like this again. Until then, I'll look forward to getting some rest.

Hope you all have a great week. Sleep for me, okay?

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Tell Me What to Do

Go ahead, boss me around
I know you're in charge here
That you have all the expertise
To know what's best for me
For us
For my son
For everybody
I know I don't have a choice
I accept that

But don't tell me I have to like it
Don't tell me to smile
Don't insist I be your friend
Or thank you
Or caress fondly
Or laugh about
The still raw sting on my cheek

Some day I will
Remember this with
Gratitude
You say

Some day I will
No longer feel the pain
From the cracked, leaking hole in my chest
And forgive you
I say

But not now

Sunday, February 3, 2013

This Fall Apart

Achebe was right
The earth spins on
And on
In relatively perfect control

But we all spin out of it

We think its just a pirouette
Our own perfect dance
And if everyone else would only spin
The very same way

It will all go well
The perfect
Harmonious
Spin

But we all spin
Every which way
Refusing to bend
Adjust a foot
Trip a little more slowly
Or let someone else in line

So people spin away from us

Serves them right
We think
They should not have spun like that
They should adapt
To the best spin possible

We grin our knowing smiles
Go figure
Shows they lacked the talent
Or determination
Or understanding
Lacked the dance ability

It feels good
To be better
To dance the right way
While all around us spin off
Oddly

No need to bend
Or touch
Or stay
Or wait for them

Better just to spin
Alone.