Too Much

I don't do very well with debates. Just ask my debater-mock trialer daughter. I have to leave during closing arguments. I can only make it through one round of Lincoln-Douglas. It's just too much embarrassment for me to absorb.

So here I am listening—from afar—to the first presidential debate between Obama and Romney. I say "from afar" because my son has C-SPAN on in the next room from where my office is. I can't help but overhear some of the talking. And frankly, it's awful. There is smugness. There is animosity. There is bloviation. These things are mostly on one side.

The President looks annoyed to be there. He looks down at the podium or his notes or something and makes very little eye contact—except an occasional glare at moderator Jim Lehrer as if to say, "Would you please stop him?" Romney seems a little more open and comfortable, I think. He does have a certain "You gotta be kidding me" air about him. No, sadly, Mr. Romney, the President's not kidding. I think he really believes what he's saying.

And that's embarrassing.

Kvelling in Words

I am a word lover. A logophile. I like the way certain words sound on the ear and taste in the mouth. I like seeing them on a page and rearranging them to make new meanings or clarifications. I like the challenge of analyzing grammatical intricacies. (I tried explaining this to my 15-year-old son last night when I was looking over his English homework. He wasn't convinced that how words work together in sentence patterns was at all beguiling.)

My English-teacher parents nourished this love of words by giving me each Christmas a Word-a-Day calendar. You know the kind—you rip the pages off every day to reveal a new word. (I still get one at Christmas, only now it's from my husband.)

Often the words are somewhat lackluster. (Witness quail, belfry, and enjoin which come later this year. [I peek ahead sometimes. But that's another post.]) But yesterday's was one I'd not heard before: kvell \'kvel\ v: to be extraordinarily proud; to rejoice; from the Yiddish kveln, meaning "to  be delighted." And that word kvelled my heart.

Shakespeare and Elections and Laundry—Oh, My!

As You Like It laundry pile

The title says it all. I'm in the thick of those three big entities right now. Our non-profit Shakespeare company (Greenville Shakespeare Co.) has just finished a 16-performance run of As You Like It. My director/designer/actor husband and I just hauled 15 ginormous Rubbermaid containers full of costume pieces, jewelry, props, and paraphernalia up to the attic for storage til next spring. Now we begin full tilt toward a November production of Richard III: The Terrible Reign, a Richard of epic proportions. (See my husband's blog for more info on this fab project.)

As for elections, it's post-national convention season, and I'm having to summon all of my strength to stomach the polling, advertising, speculating, and general bloviating that accompanies this time of year. I have to remind myself that my hope lies not in man.

And last, but certainly not least, the laundry. Sometimes I believe laundry to be my profession. I am a laundress. Today has been especially laundry-ing as I added my son's bedspread (why the Southern red mud stains?), a bathroom rug, and several loads of post-AYLI (see first paragraph) stinky washing. (If you think actors don't work hard, you should smell their garments after a weekend of shows.)

In between all of that, I have been able to squeeze some editing of the October issue of Trak magazine, which is due to the printer's this week.

Author Visit

Well, it's been a long while since I posted. I'm still here and still writing—mostly for Trak magazine these days but writing. This spring I had the great opportunity to read both of my children's books to a wonderful group of K5-4th graders at Greenville Classical Academy. We had a lot of fun, and the kids enjoyed interacting with Mumsi and Rodney. They had a number of questions about Kenya, lions, and the animals mentioned in Mumsi Meets a Lion. Once again I got choked up with pride at Mumsi's reaction to the trouble he finds himself in. The picture is of the K5 class with me after the reading and q-&-a time.

New Office with a View

It's happened; it's finally happened! I'm working from home. I'm drinking coffee at a teal lacquered desk ("how lovely," you say; "yes," I reply, "the legs are curved, how did you know?") while staring out huge windows into my lush backyard. I see birds and trees and grass and hydrangeas, and I am old because I'm thinking about a bird feeder. I try to ignore dust and fingerprints and laundry (my one weakness) and just write, write, write. Soon I will write whatever I wish but for now I must write blog posts for The Greenville Shakespeare Company, a weekly current events article for an online publisher, and news for a new teen magazine called Trak (more about that later). But this may be done in pajamas and slippers or running clothes or an old t-shirt with bleach on it. (Because one can never use bleach without ruining something, can one?) And so it is glorious.

Writers' Forum

Yesterday I spoke at a Writers' Forum. Here are a few things I included in the PowerPoint--lessons I have learned through the publishing process:

•1) A first draft is a first draft. (Don't consider initial output perfect.)

•2) A revision is a re-vision. (That means look at your draft again.)

•3) Your editor wants you to succeed. (He's not trying to tank your project.)

•4) Consider all suggestions. (Consider. All. Suggestions.)

•5) Collaboration usually makes a better product. (Theatre people know this. Why don't other artists get it?)

•6) Appreciate others’ strengths. (Use other people's talents. Very few people are good at everything.)

•7) Don’t forget your audience. (Unless you're waiting to be discovered posthumously, make your writing something people want to read now.)

Book Signing Blahs

So I had a book signing Monday night. It was blah. For one thing, it didn't get advertised. For another thing, we were stuck in the back of the store. And we (the authors) were too many, so I think we overwhelmed anyone who came near us. I brought my own book stands (always remembering the mantra "flat books, flat sales") and stood several books up. I also brought my big lion and sat him on the floor.

We should've been in the children's section so that folks looking there anyway would find us. At least two of the sales that were made were because I mentioned to people browsing in children's that there were authors in the back of the store. There should've been more signage, too. Oh, well, live and learn.