Making Things Work

I'm fighting with my novel right now, and the fight is getting nasty. I know what I want to happen, what should happen, what needs to happen for all of it to come together:

1. Forgiveness, or at least grudging resentment instead of outright hatred. My main character, her father--no, her entire family--have to put behind the past and help those who condemned them.

2. People need to be physically saved from a rooftop, before the church they are sitting atop breaks from its foundations and floats away in moving flood waters.

3. The people on the roof have to accept the help of those trying to save them--one person almost refuses, one person almost drowns, but all end up in the boat, whether they want to or not.

4. All of this happens in five minutes tops. (Yes, I can slow time down, but one chapter max. is all I have.)

5. The rain is coming down in sheets, and everybody has to somehow communicate over the sound and see each other through the driving rain.

The rain and flood are the hard parts. I joked with the hubby I should just take those out, and it would be easier. Except that they are the whole point of the book. Without them, there is no book.

Darn. I guess I'll just keep fighting, until my right brain figures out how to get all of this to happen without the whole thing turning as implausible as Armageddon. I couldn't bear ending up with a book I was embarrassed to have written.

Happily Making Do

It seems that life never gives one exactly what one desires. For instance, this morning, after being away from my home for THREE weeks, the number one thing I wanted to do is get to the Y and do my beloved Zumba. 

But then my kids, worn out from their time at Grandma's, slept until nearly nine a.m. Only a half hour to get them ready! And both wanted to wear their new tennis shoes... must get them laced, de-tagged, etc. And breakfast--almost forgot about that.

We were going to be late... but only by a few minutes. But then, oh no, where are the YMCA ID cards? I'm sure I put them in a "safe place" before I left, so I'd remember where to find them. Yes, by now the irony is killing me. Then, a solution: I'll just show them my drivers license (it's worked before). 

But then, the insurmountable obstacle: no keys. You see, I left my car and other keys behind when I left for Houston, and they have yet to return to my purse (darn!). I could walk to the Y, but the Zumba class would be more than half over by the time I got there... and the kids would be whiny (it's about a mile and a half to get there). So that was a deal breaker.

You might think this is the Whining Blog... but it isn't. What did we do? Well, my daughter is restarting her Wi Fit this morning instead, and then we are going to put our little Zumba/Bellydancing jinglebelts (are they called sashes?) on and DANCE, DANCE, DANCE!

I have to remind myself sometimes that it takes far more energy to whine about a problem than it does to solve the problem. Problem solved! 

(Maybe I should take a picture of the jinglebelts so you can see what they look like!)