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 |   Exploring the future through the present. One day at a time. |
| Part of a land surveyor's job is to get involved in land disputes. Yep, we purposely get in between feuding land owners. And I on purpose decided over twenty years ago to be one. What, oh, what was I thinking? Right now I'm dealing with one such dispute where both sides hired me and both sides keep calling me with he-said/he-saids about what I said to the other he. Much of which I never said. Yet since it's all hearsay, I can't determine who is lying. My biggest gripe with this particular situation is being accused of lying or making a mistake and not admitting to it. It's infuriating to the point I can no longer count how many more gray hairs I've grown since this started back in October. In the end I have to take a step back, because another duty of a land surveyor is to speak for the evidence. I not only work for my clients, but part of the oath I took when I earned my license is to protect the public. That includes any adjoining land owners. If I find my client is in the wrong, I am ethically and duty-bound to tell them so. This particular case is an encroachment that is the fault of neither land owner, but previous land owners who knew about the encroachment, tried to fix it at one point, but never followed through (I won't get into the details, because it'll bore you senseless). Yet each current land owner is blaming the other for the problem. Errgh. But this is my job, and one I signed up for. Now to convince my employer I deserve hazard pay . . . |
| Sometimes I get sucked into conversations on forums, especially when people slam God or churches. I understand people hating God, church or religion in general, because they were burned at one time. I, myself, have been angry at God and left a church because they didn't treat me or other people as they should have. What irritates me is those same angry people lump every Christian and every church into the same mould. They are also the same people who yell at Christians not to judge their own bad behavior. The worst and most frustrating part is no matter how much I try to point out their own preconceived notions, and to open their minds enough to see not everyone is the same, they in effect close their eyes, cover their ears and yell, "La, la, la, la, la, HYPOCRITE, la la la la, RACIST la la la la, HOMOPHOBE, la la la la la." Jesus warned me against wasting my time like this in Matthew 7:6 (in part): "Don't throw your pearls to pigs! They will trample the pearls, then turn and attack you." |
| What's so special about that day? It's no one's birthday. No one's death, not even a wedding anniversary. It is, however, the day I should find out if I suck as a writer. That's right. I finally sent off my manuscript that I wrote -- get this -- nearly 14 years ago. April, 2001 is when the idea of my first novel hatched and spent the next three months writing. Sure I spent three months vomiting all 103,000 words of my idea on paper, but I spent a lot more time than that editing, rewriting, editing some more, let sit and collect dust for a few years only to edit and rewrite again -- and streamlined down to a mere 94,169 words. Even if it doesn't pass muster with this publisher, I have no regrets. I learned more about writing and writing well with that book than most of the others I've written since. For the next eight weeks, I will remain hopeful, but not expectant. That doesn't mean I'm above praying for a specific outcome, however, and I'm sure you can guess what that is. |
| Not really, but I just finished doing what I didn't want to do. I wrote a proposal letter and back cover copy for "Traitors" to submit to Enclave Publishing. Doing so was difficult, but only because I had it in my head that everything would turn out terrible. How does one break down a 95k manuscript into three short paragraphs, let alone one sentence, and make it sound like the best book ever without saying, "It's the best book EVER!" I'll admit as I started writing my prayers sounded a like a drowning person begging for a life preserver. I'm sure God was shaking his head at me and saying, "Calm down. It's not that big a deal. Sheesh." Turns out, it wasn't so horrible. It didn't even take me very long -- less than an hour. Do I think I did a good job? Not yet. I want to give it a few days and look at everything with a fresh eye. If I still think everything looks and sounds okay, I'll send everything off -- along with another "I must be drowning" prayer. I'm trying not to get too excited. My manuscript has been rejected before, so there's really no reason for it to not be rejected again. I could be one sucky writer, and am the only person in the world who doesn't "know" it yet, but for which the editor or said publisher will be gleefully happy to tell me just how sucky I really am. Okay. I'm exaggerating a tish. But only a tish. The inevitable rejection won't sound gleeful at all. I know, I know. The book may not be rejected. I just don't want to get my hopes up, and end up crushed when it's all said and done. Been there, done that. Don't like it one bit. |
| If I wake up in the morning feeling off as if something bad is going to happen, I try to ignore it. Doing so often makes the feeling a self-fulfilling prophesy. Not today. I felt off from the moment I woke up. I just knew it wasn't going to be a good day. As much as I tried to ignore it, turns out my intuition was correct. I found out this morning that one of our employees is leaving. For a small company that can barely keep up with the work load as it is, one person leaving creates a big void. The worst part is I will now have to pick up the slack, and I'm already overworked as it is. When people are overworked, they tend to make mistakes. This year, I've made a few doozies, partly because I'm so busy I can't spend the time required on any project to make certain it's done right. That's one of the big problems of living in an area with less than 3% unemployment. Everyone who wants to work already has a job. New employees simply can't be found, especially in an industry such as mine. We need someone with a specific set of skills, and -- again -- those people already work. So, yeah. I was a grump today, and for once I was justified in being so. |
| One piece of advice authors give to newbie writers is to never get married to the title of your book, especially those wanting to go the traditional publishing route. Publishers will invariably want to change it. For instance, "All Quiet on the Western Front" was originally titled "Ouch, I've Been Shot!" My WIP (91k words and still counting, although I'm in a bit of a lull right now) if you haven't read previous entries I titled "The Keeper." Last Wednesday, we started a Bible study on the Book of Mark, and verse 3 says, "He is a voice shouting in the wilderness . . " I thought, based on the premise, "Shouting in the Wilderness," is a far more interesting title. For now. If I decide it's worth seeking a publisher for it and it's accepted, they'll change it again anyway, I'm sure. So even though I'm not supposed to "marry" my titles doesn't mean I can't at least have a little "fling" with them. |
| Socrates apparently once said, "Everything in moderation, nothing in excess." There is a price to be paid for everything, and as of now, I am paying the price for not being moderate in my writing. Since I've picked up "The Keeper," I am now up to 19k words and a desire to keep on going. My body, however, is now protesting loudly for my excess. As of a few hours ago, every time I move my wrist, I feel a sharp pain from my pinky to halfway down my forearm. I've had this pain before. Tendonitis. Crappity, crap, crap, crap, crap crap. I don't want to stop! Or even slow down, but I have to lest I exacerbate it further. Harrumph. |
| And no I'm not talking about vacuum cleaners or people who suck the life out of other people (other than vampires). I've been grinding away on a sequel to one of my sci-fi novels I had really high hopes for. I love the characters, love the premise, but the story just won't catch. So after trying to write for three months and barely eking out 20k words, I set it aside in favor of a Nanowrimo novel I started - but never finished - from about three years ago. This one interested me from the start, because it's my first venture into fantasy. It's a story I've been thinking about for about as long as I've been trying to write the sci-fi sequel. God's way of telling me something? Perhaps. I wouldn't be surprised, because the sequel is mainstream sci-fi whereas the fantasy is an allegory. I've spent the last two weeks tackling the fantasy novel (called "The Keeper") and have written over 10k words. The story has so gobbled me up, I've even been sneaking five or ten minutes here and there at work to punch out a few hundred words. Not so sucky, so far, right? Except! Since the story has so captured my attention, I have a hard time thinking about anything else, and I'm begrudging the attention my family wants from me. I don't like that part of writing (even when I do like that part of writing), because I know the time spent with family is precious and irreplaceable. Especially from my now 6-year-old son, because in a few short years, he won't want tanything to do with me. That's the sucky part. Even when it's not sucky. Sheesh I hope that all makes sense. But now it's time to put my son to bed, spend some quality time reading to him, then disappear in my novel once again (my hubby is out with friends, so I don't have to feel guilty not giving him any attention *grins*). |
| From the US Department of Labor website: Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr also said of labor: “We must set out to do a good job, irrespective of race, and do it so well that nobody could do it better. Whatever your life’s work is, do it well. Even if it does not fall in the category of one of the so-called big professions, do it well. As one college president said, “A man should do his job so well that the living, the dead, and the unborn could do it no better.” If it falls your lot to be a street sweeper, sweep streets like Michelangelo painted pictures, like Shakespeare wrote poetry, like Beethoven composed music; sweep streets so well that all the host of Heaven and earth will have to pause and say, “Here lived a great street sweeper, who swept his job well.” Today is the day we celebrate a job well done. It's important to not only take pride in how well we do our job, but resolve to do it better; to become indispensable. Even if (or especially if) that job is considered "below" other jobs. Because if we were all doctors and lawyers, who would pick up the trash, or clean our sewers? Even better, perhaps we should use this day to thank others for doing those so-called thankless jobs. I, for one, thank you. |
| We attended (well, made it to the reception anyway) a wedding of one of my husband's friends this evening. Most of the time, I despise weddings and especially receptions. More often than not I know few people other than my husband and son. Because I really don't have friends. I have acquaintances and co-workers, and most of the time I'm fine with that. Sometimes though, especially in social gatherings, I end up bored. Tonight was better than most, because I did know a few people and was able to engage in some conversation. The best wedding I went to recently was a few months ago. I knew more people than normal, but that's not what made it fun. My sister-in-law (and mother of the groom) asked if I had brought my camera. The couple couldn't afford a wedding photographer and my sister-in-law didn't want to have to keep track of her camera. She asked me to take pictures for her. I was a bit nervous, because (for a writer this may sound odd) people don't interest me -- at least not where photography is concerned. I prefer nature and inanimate objects to point my camera at. Perhaps it's because I feel like I'm intruding. I don't like people taking pictures of me, so why should I extend my discomfort to others? That's plain rude. Weddings, I discovered, are completely different. People expect to get their pictures taken. The best part for me taking pictures is I could disappear into the background. People noticed me, but with fancy camera in hand, no one tried to engage me in conversation unless it was to ask for their picture to be taken, or of something interesting going on. They knew I had a job to do and let me do it. Perfect for an anti-socialite like me. There was the added pressure of never having taken wedding pictures before, so I had no idea how they would turn out. Overall, they turned out okay. Not professional grade, because I didn't have all the right gear I needed. Since I've taken an interest in photography, I've paid close attention to other photographers to see what they use in specific circumstances. When my sister-in-law asked me to take pictures, I knew right away I didn't have all the right equipment, so had to make due with what I had. It showed, but at the same time, I was pleased with the end result. And the bride seemed quite tickled when I sent the pictures to her. That's not to say I will become a wedding photographer. Dealing with bridezillas and overbearing family members is not my idea of fun. Next time I'm invited to a wedding, however, I may just drag along my gear, and pretend to be the photographer. That way I can disappear in the background and not be bored. |
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