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Archive for September, 2006

Lessons

Friday, September 29th, 2006

Lessons learned this week. First, I enjoy a good crisis as much as any tech, though I prefer those punctuated by brief moments of calmness. Solving a nasty four month old problem merits a wee break. At least to me, I think it does. Like just enough time for a bathroom round trip before the utility company snuffs the power to campus.

By the end of the day I laughed. I must confess I did not in the moment.

Better still, I learned that a coworkers best friend is an editor at Harcourt.

The people you meet when you wander the halls.

For real this time

Thursday, September 28th, 2006

Five months ago, the Wife and I decided to move our Roth IRAs from one bank to another. When dealing with large corporations and money, a certain amount of red-tape I expect. I did not, however, anticipate a certain institution–rhymes with Bunk of America–would be such a…ah, never mind. Slurs betrays my bad breeding.

The long and short of it, we had to cash out the Roth, and have a check cut, deposit the check, then have a bank check drawn up for the new place.

Wow. Just writing all that makes me tired.

Count out

Thursday, September 28th, 2006

Train wreck: see also my week. But this a great improvement over the last. And the drama is leveling off at the day job. That is to say, it’s gone from twenty crises an hour, to just a few per day. Though one or two prove halfway serious. Otherwise, it’s almost so quiet I can sip water between phone rings.

Lunches missed this week: two.
Vacation wished for: none.
Sick days should have exercised: one.
Times cursed at doctors: six.
Number of curses spewed at no specific individual: lost track.

Old friend

Monday, September 25th, 2006

An old friend reappeared this weekend–can’t remember the last time we chatted, it’s been so long–and offered three pages of feedback for The Stash. Which is an accomplishment itself, as the story is only sixteen pages. Instead of the novel, I spent time emailing, editing, then remailing the draft to them. Even though I was itching to get at the novel, the experience was satisfying. Quite a bit of time passed since I put the story to bed, so I could appreciate their ideas. And they had a lot of them.

Hearing suggestions versus hearing the same words as criticism has long been a challenge for me. If I have made any strides here, it came from walking away from a story long enough to forget writing it. Generally gaining such a perspective requires an eight week separation period. In the case of the novel, because it takes indeterminate blocks of time to traverse, the mark line is scenes, not weeks. I can accept suggestions about the prior scene while actively working through the next. One thing I’m not so good at, though, is dealing with ideas about how to fix an unfinished scene. Unless I’m completely stuck. Then all comers are welcome. Usually if I have trouble wrapping up I take it as a sign I’m trying too hard and work on another manuscript until the hunger starts.

See, that’s the greatest reward about writing a novel on your own dime. When to press ahead is always at your discretion. No micromanagement in sight.

Words to live by

Saturday, September 23rd, 2006

Back off. No coffee yet.

Breathe

Friday, September 22nd, 2006

This weekend promises lots more free time than last, which is a good thing. Though I already miss last weekend’s festivities. Reflecting on a good wedding always makes me smile.

Autumn started this week. Maybe Wednesday morning, I think. Fall is my favorite season; it means cross country. Not coincidentally, it’s also the time of year I enjoy running the most. As much fun as cross country is, I want to try fell racing.

Fell racing is a British sport–as I understand it, anyway–where competitors run down slopes fast as they can manage. Their task: remain vertical and reach the line in one piece. Basically, the more a racer fights gravity, the harder and more dangerous the descent, the more likely an injury. So the trick appears deceptively simple. Racers stay in control by ceding control. And the only way to do that is to stay in motion and let their steps fall where they may. Which is rather like rock climbing or writing. Fight the wall or the page, and it hurts. But try your best, keep moving and somehow the next hold, the next sentence, appears.

What happened

Wednesday, September 20th, 2006

Feel like I woke up, found the local rag on the front lawn after sunset and discovered it’s Wednesday. Page count this week is on the low side, though it started well enough, and there are a few days left yet. Work–or my inability to leave before 7pm the last few days–is to blame. Fall term beats up the staff at most schools, especially the one person departments. Time passes easily at least.

While I avoid discussing work too frequently, as of late there’s an odd vibe in the halls worth noting. Not exactly a rumor, but more of a shared exchange between myself and coworkers, and one that’s recurred with so many different people, it can’t be a coincidence. As people pass me in the hallway they stop, pat my shoulder, and say, “Don’t quit. We like you.”

Why they do this I have no idea, though the culprit might be legacy. I’ve lasted longer than most of my predecessors. In another three months, only one beats me on tenure. Perhaps they envision some sort of tech guy expiration date. Usually by now, the tech guy either gets canned or bolts.

The funny thing is, I know why they leave, yet for all the oddities about the position, this is the best job I’ve ever had. So I’m staying.