Calming Calendar Chaos

One of the things that Stephanie and I spoke about earlier this week was the need for me to jump back into the "swing of things" with Dr. Warson's Back Book as soon as the Emergency Edit for He Who Will Not Call was finished.

Well, the edit is finished, and it's time to get back to writing work.

Stephanie wanted me to write out a realistic Project Map for May that would enable me to finish the project by the end of the month. I spent a little time doing that yesterday. I then went one step further, and wrote in ALL of my daily and weekly time and work commitments. I also wrote in time commitments that I'm aware of that will necessitate being away from the project (driving to the airport, entertaining house guests...).

It seems like such a simple, obvious solution to getting a handle on the project -- and it is, in a way. I told Stephanie that I'd done a sort of similar map for March, and another one for April. In both cases, Emergency Projects arose that necessitated a restructuring of my time commitments.

Knowledge of past shortcomings, however, should not be allowed to stunt future successes. It was a good exercise to do the Map (again). It reminded me that the project still need shepherding, that there is less margin for error now than in March, that my "schedule" is fluid, and extremely difficult to plan in advance, and that I have a heck of a lot to do in a short time.

If you're looking at the backside of a big project, I would encourage you to do the same sort of exercise. Mentally determine how many hours you need to Get It Done. Then take the month of May (starting Monday, at a theater near you -- ready or not!) and make a plan. Be realistic. Allot a certain number of hours a day to work on the project. See what it's going to take to either finish the thing, or at least make a sizeable dent in it.

Then, stick with it. Past unforseen emergencies, past scheduling difficulties, current social and professional stresses should not color the Map. Start afresh, with a clean calendar slate, and make a Plan.

Recent Entertainment Rundown

* Aeon Flux -- Nearly unwatchable. Style over substance all over the place. A movie made without a screenplay. Beyond awful (which is unfortunate, because it could have been cool).

* Tristan & Isolde -- Better than I expected. Didn't think I'd be able to buy James Franco as anything but a two-dimensional character. Pleasantly surprised. Also glad to see Rufus Sewell as someone other than The Bad Guy.

* Casanova -- It's difficult to be objective about any movie with Heath Ledger in it, 'cause I'm a fan. But 4 of us watched this the other night and we all enjoyed it enormously. One of the most fun movies I've seen in awhile. The "R" rating is inexplicable. "Tristan & Isolde," at PG-13, had much more of what makes for an "R." I'll watch it again and again, but since Mr. Ledger's in it, that goes without saying...

* Stay -- I saw this in the theater, and don't mind admitting that I didn't "get it." I liked it, but didn't get it. Robert and I discussed it and, after much conversation, he hit on a Theory. Watched the DVD recently with Karen, who hadn't seen it, and realized that Robert had hit upon the Key to the film. Makes much more sense the second time through. Interesting direction and a freaky, non-linear story line make it worthwhile, regardless of whether the plot is accessible or not.

* Take the Lead -- Fun to watch, but impossible not to view it as a "Dirty Dancing" remake. Inspired by a real person, but I'm sure so much license was taken with the story that the real Pierre Dulaine (the ballroom teacher who taught dancing to inner-urban kids) wouldn't recognize himself. Still, the theatergoers laughed at all the right parts. And the dancing really is cool.

* Lucky Number Slevin -- Skewered in some reviews as uninspired, unimaginative, and a rip-off of 10 year old films like "Pulp Fiction" and "the Usual Suspects." Made me wonder if the reviewers saw the same movie I did. Extremely entertaining. Josh Hartnett (another one who usually makes 2-dimensional character choices) does a very good job. A stellar cast, crazy story line, interesting visual composition, and creative direction make this my favorite current release. I'd see it again.

It's Outta Here (For Now)

Yes, Dear Reader, the Awful Edit has, indeed, come to an end. Our photographer has a list of outstanding illustrations. The publisher has the draft of the new (and, hopefully much improved) manuscript. The Happy Dance commenced at approximately 6:30 p.m. on Wednesday, and continued for quite some time. My toes are still tapping...

I don't believe that's the last I'll see of the project. But I must believe that when I see it again, it won't be a bad thing.

I'm actually quite pleased with how it has turned out. Since HWWNC has gone underground and has, essentially, signed off on the project, there is no need to worry about keeping the book in his voice. So I took the liberty to clean it up considerably. The information it contains is good (for all his idiosyncrasies, HWWNC does know what he's talking about), and I think it's presented in a cogent, easy-to-understand format. We'll see what the publisher says.

After successfully avoiding being called for jury duty once again, I'm redoubling my efforts on Dr. Warson's Back Book, hoping to make up for lost time. With any luck, I'll have the next chapter -- that's been on hiatus for the past month -- finished by Friday.

I had my first session with Stephanie, my new Life Coach, on Tuesday. One of my homework assignments is to map out a plan to finish writing a draft of the Back Book by the end of May. I told her that I had such a mapped out plan for March, and another one for April. Perhaps, however, the third time's a charm.

There's other homework, too. It's not done yet. I'll post my thoughts on it when it's finished. Suffice to say that I think Stephanie knows her stuff. I told her I wanted her to help me find more hours in my day. I believe she may be able to do it.

In any case, the Emergency Edit is officially over. We now return to our normally scheduled lives...

Rider's Wednesday -- Driver's Safety

This past weekend, I took Nehi, my 20 year old Perfect Section C Welsh Cob out for our first Spring drive. My friend Karen and Cassandra went along for the ride. We went for a good 7 miles or so before coming home. We all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

Nehi loves to drive. I bought him as a two year old. Back then, I was newly married, unemployed, and had a lot of free time on my hands. Nehi and I spent a lot of time together. I wanted to work him, but knew he wasn't ready to ride yet, so we spent an entire season driving. It's the first thing he learned to do, and he does it with gusto.

A few years ago, my friend, Denise, had a harness for sale that I thought might be a good replacement for my elderly, unsafe, cobbled-together, much patched piece of equipment. I took the new harness into the barn one January day and spent the better part of an hour fitting it to Nehi.

When I has ascertained that the new harness could, indeed, be adjusted to fit him, I started to take it off. Nehi, who until this point had been waiting with barely contained glee, was palpably disappointed. He pegged me with "The Look" that clearly said, "What do you mean, we're not going anywhere?" When the harness was off, he deliberately turned his back on me (something he is not in the habit of doing) and sulked in a corner of his stall.

As I said, he loves to drive. He has from day one. We drive primarily on the road, rather than in fields or in a ring. This is not without its share of risks (as my mother regularly points out). So this week, I thought a few thoughts on "Driver's Safety" tips might be in order:

* Don't go out without a good brake. The first thing Nehi learned to do with regards to the cart was "whoa." Whoa means "Stop. Now." It does not mean, "Stand still as long as I'm hauling on the reins." I know a lot of people preach "forward first." I am not one of them. I want to know that I don't have to worry about my horse running through a stop sign as we approach a busy intersection.

* On a related note, don't forget the parking brake. In addition to "whoa," Nehi also knows the word "cart." "Cart" means "Stand still, without moving a muscle, until I ask you to do something else." I usually hitch him by myself. I need to be able to have him stand quietly while I'm fiddling with the tugs and the breeching. I also need him to stand quietly while people are getting in and out of the cart, while little kids are running up to pet him, and while I'm hooking him up to things like trees and stumps that need dragging.

* When driving a cart, you are in a wheeled vehicle. That means that you drive with traffic. (As opposed to riding a horse, which makes you a pedestrian, and necessitates you riding against traffic.) In America, we drive on the right hand side of the road, and ride on the left.

* Clearly mark your driving vehicle for visibility. An orange hazard triangle and reflectors on the the back of the cart are absolutely essential. If driving on busy roads, brake lights and hazard lights are advised.

* Wear your riding helmet or a bike helmet while driving. You just NEVER KNOW what's going to happen.

* Make sure your driving horse can handle "yahoos" who find it amusing to blare their horn as they pass, who follow too closely, or who allow their barking dogs and / or screaming children to hang out the passenger side window and erupt in a frenzy within inches from your horse's face. Never understimate the value of desensitizing a driving horse to scary and distracting objects before you head out on the road.

* I loathe overchecks and sidechecks on horses that are working on the road. My feeling is, if the horse needs his head cranked up to be safe, he shouldn't be charged with my safety just yet. A tight overcheck forces the horse to hollow his back. It makes it impossible for him to use his hindquarters correctly for power or for braking. It never allows him to relax and work. As a result, the more he drives in that position, the more he becomes accustomed to moving incorrectly.

* Maintain lightness. I also find no need for constant pressure on the reins. A part of the horse knowing his job, involves knowing how to go straight, unless told otherwise. If the horse acts as if he's going to bolt and run off all the time, necessitating heavy rein contact -- again -- I don't want to be in the cart. I certainly don't want to trust my lift to him on the road. I drive with both reins in one hand about 90 percent of the time. I want my driving time to be relaxing. It wouldn't be if I were constantly worried that my horse might get away from me!

Poking the "I" Out

And the Interminable Edit continues... Every day, I swear it will all be over. The holes -- serious gaps in information -- I mentioned earlier riddle the entire project. Writing the text to fill them is not a horrible undertaking. It just makes it impossible to accurately gauge how long the edit will take. Some days I'll finish 90 pages. Other days, I'm lucky to get through 20 -- because all 20 have to be written from scratch.

Holes aside, one part of the edit that I am perversely enjoying is poking the "I's" out of it. Though the information in it is good, reputable, and actionable, the manuscript suffers greatly from "I" trouble.

Modesty is not a defining characteristic of HWWNC. The manuscript is rife with "I's," "me's," and "my's." They're everywhere. They distract from the information presented, because they constantly push the author in front of the content.

Too much first person writing -- especially in a how-to project -- can cause your audience to distance themselves from your content. I'll be the first to agree that relating first person experiences can help illustrate key concepts in the real world, and make the writer more accessible to the readers. But if your project is primarily in the first person, then chances are you are focusing too much on yourself and not enough on your reader.

Remember: your reader is the only reason you exist as a writer.

A good exercise is to go over a manuscript in the editing phase, and change every "I" and "me" to "you." Change every "my" to "your." Every "mine" becomes "yours." You get the point.

You will find that some "I's" must remain. The personal anecdotes, the introspective musings, and the telling vignettes are generally most effective when told in first person.

But you will also find that most "I's" can (and should) go. Write to the reader rather than about yourself and you'll rarely go wrong.

Add a Letter

Word in the world has it that the Swedish Academy (which counts giving out the Nobel Prize for literature among its duties) has decided that "W" is a bona-fide letter, and should be officially recognized, embraced, utilized, and allowed into both the alphabet and the dictionary.

Wordsmiths and writers will whole-heartedly welcome the news with wanton whistles and wild whirling, while worriers, whiners, and windbags will woefully, wrathfully -- wretchedly -- weep watching their wishes for a W-free world waft away.

I find it fascinating that much of the world cannot even spell Sweden without a "W."

The addition brings the total number of letters in the Swedish alphabet to 29. Imagine the havoc that adding a letter to the language wreaks. For one thing, someone has to come up with a new Alphabet Song. One with a catchy tune. That little children can sing. The English Alphabet Song uses the same tune as "Baa Baa Black Sheep," and "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." There's no room in the melody, however, to add a three-syllable whopper like "W" to it. The world will watch with wide-eyed well-wishers to see how the Swedish Academy handles the Song issue.

A new letter will necessitate the standardization of using it when spelling words. One wonders if the Academy will be so open-minded with the new addition as to include it as the second letter in the official name for the country. Or will "W" become the ugly, red-haired step-child of the alphabet, used only in imports and cheap knock-off words ("world wide web," "Wednesday," ""watermelon," "Gone With the Wind," "WMD's," "War of the Worlds...")?

Lobbyists for the dictionary industry -- an economic indicator, if ever there was one -- must be thrilled. Imagine the party atmosphere that must currently permeate the publishing houses. Entire new volumes to be compiled! Whole new words to be included! They hold, within their grasp, the opportunity to tell people what to say!

You can bet the Powers That Be are revelling in their new-found power, and are already plotting What Letter To Add Next...

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Program...

The very longsuffering Dr. Warson sent me an e-mail today reminding me that we have only 5 months left to do the book and I haven't sent him any more drafts since going to Equine Affaire.

I told him that things are indeed coming along, though I realize I've been out of touch for a bit. I was very disappointed that I didn't get a draft of the next chapter finished before heading to Columbus. I told him that an emergency (and highly unusual) ghostwriting & editing request had arisen on a project that was being quickly shepherded into production.

This has cut into the immediate work on our book, but our editors -- and bosses -- are aware of that. They offered an extension, but I told them I didn't think there'd be a need for that. This book is writing well and going smoothly, when not bumped by other projects. We should be fine.

I mentioned a few areas within the project that could use his input now, even before I finish a draft of the next chapter. For instance, something that would be quite useful is a "Back Health Assessment" questionnaire or checklist -- a sort of do-it-yourself, general analysis tool that readers can use to help identify strengths, weaknesses, potential problem areas, unsafe habits, and unhealthy practices. (Some days I wish I had such an assessment tool for my own selfish reasons...)

I also told him that the silver lining, if there is one, to this project that has taken precedence over all else is that -- in addition to a ghostwriter and editor -- It also needed a pinch-hitter photographer for 2 full chapters, and for a few holes in the rest of the book. I'm hoping that the photographer has reasonable rates, and would be willing to give us an estimate for shooting Dr. Warson's project later this summer.

Everything happens for a reason. Still searching dilligently for the raison d'etre of He Who Will Not Call.

In any case, I assured Dr. Warson that we would soon be back to our regularly scheduled show. Here's hoping he doesn't hold the break in programming against me...

Deadlines, Destruction, and My Daughter's Duck

For years, when people asked my mother what her daughter did, she'd say, "She lives on a farm in Michigan. She trains horses and gives riding lessons, and she's married to a wonderful guy."

"Mom," I would say, "didn't you mention that I was a writer?"

"Well... No."

I actually got to the point where I said, "Repeat after me: My daughter is a writer. Go on... I'll wait." (No lie.)

Now that actual books bear my name in one capacity or another, my mother is quite pleased to tell people what her daughter does -- which is very gratifying, I'll admit. But now we face a new hurdle: this blog.

"I read your blog," Mom said recently.

"Good. What'd you think?"

"It's all about writing. There's some horse stuff, too, but it's mostly about writing."

"True," said I. "That's the point. I'm pretty clear about that up front, right from the start, on the header page."

"Well I don't care about writing," she countered. "I want to hear about what's going on in your life. I want to read about my granddaughter."

Mom -- this one's for you:

Much happened yesterday. I made a preliminary bid on a new project and followed up on two others in various stages of completion.

I also discovered that a sizeable area of the glazing on our beautiful, antique, cast iron, clawfoot bathtub has been compromised. I called our contractor about it, only to discover that the firm who initially refinished the tub 10 years ago has gone out of business. Getting a new bathtub may actually be less expensive that refinishing the one we have. Neither option will be cheap, I'm sure. He's going to come by early this morning and survey the damage.

Most of my workday consisted of wrestling with the edit of He Who Will Not Call's manuscript. To me has fallen the unenviable task of beating the thing into publishable shape.

I'd actually done a pretty thorough initial edit of the original draft last fall, before HWWNC went incommunicado (a fancy word for "petulantly unreachable"). But there were several instances of gaps or holes in the manuscript that could have benefited from his expertise. Since he's giving us the silent treatment, it has become my joyful duty to write the text that fills the holes.

I finished drafts to plug two of the biggest holes -- two full, missing chapters -- last week. In fact, on Tuesday, I sent those chapters, along with suggested photos, to the photographer who has been hired to illustrate them, so he can get started on the stuff we know is missing from the text.

But as I work my way through the "for publication" edit, I'm running across numerous, nasty little smaller holes. HWWNC could rattle off words to fill the holes without even thinking. But this topic is FAR from my field of expertise.

Filling the holes first requires no small amount of research. Then it requires synthesizing the information in an appropriate way. Finally, it requires that I write the text so that it sounds something like HWWNC's voice. It takes a bit of time. Half the manuscript is edited. Hope to finish the edit and send it to the publisher by the end of the week.

While I worked, Robert finished clearing brush, rocks, snow fence, moderate-sized trees, and other debris from the concrete slab that lies outside along the length of our barn. We don't know if it's salvageable or not. Perhaps some concentrated work and a significant amount of concrete will render it useable for parking farm implements. Or maybe we'd be further ahead to just chop it up and haul it away. Time (and my father) will tell. The first step, however, was to get the thing cleared.

During Robert's one-man slab-clearing party, Cassandra kept herself occupied making mudpies and sand castles at the entrance to the barn.

Later in the afternoon, while I wrestled with unfamiliar terms and tried to become comfortable enough with them to present them in a competent way, Robert and Cassandra carried on in the hallway. A not-so-subtle hint from me that my concentration could use a boost, and they were soon headed to the little lake nearby, where they stayed until it was time to start supper.

After supper, Robert listened to a teleseminar, while my neighbor, Sheila, and I headed out to do some errands. First, we moved a crumby old mattress from one of her neighbor's rental houses onto a trailer filled with treasures headed for the dump (free dump passes start tomorrow). Then we went to Whistler Farm , and picked up an extra water tank that my friend Denise no longer needed. (One can never have too many, I say.)

While we were there, we also got a duck for Cassandra, thanks to Denise's son, Caleb, who is the local poultry expert. Cassandra is terribly excited. As of yet, however, the duck remains unnamed. Further bulletins as events warrant on that front.

On the way home, Sheila helped me pick up an old telephone pole that had been removed from service and discarded near a new house being built just down the road. I stopped there on Monday and asked if they had plans for the thing. They didn't, and assured me that I was welcome to take it. It will make a great addition to the obstacle course I'm building for the horses. More on that later, as the obstacles take shape.

We came home, unloaded the pole, and were all set to get on with our evening... Until Sheila forgot that the door to her truck cap was up, and caught it in the cable run strung for our dalmatian. With a startlingly loud BAM! the window of the cap door shattered in 10 million pieces.

Glass shot everywhere -- forming a circle of shards approximately 40 feet in diameter right in the center of the dog run. Some glass pieces made it all the way to the chicken fence. Others covered the top of the truck, fell in front of the truck, and littered the truck bed. I'm not talking safety glass, here. I'm talking about little black splinters of death raining down from above.

We picked up as much of the glass as we could (shop vacs are lifesavers), until the sun set and we could no longer see. The dog run is still unusable.

Of course I felt terrible. Sheila borrowed our digital camera and took pictures of the damage before we started to clean any of it up. What a mess. When it got too dark to keep picking up shards, she went home.

Cassandra was tired anyway, and the glass explosion scared her. She then proceeded to pitch a full-scale Drama Queen fit about not being able to be outside with us, to pick up glass and play with her duck. Fit-pitchers, she discovered, get put straight to bed without having a book read or a song sung to them. Extended fit-pitchers also receive parental cautions about "sending the duck back."

Just before I put Cassandra to bed, I heard from a Centaur fence dealer, returning my call requesting more information. He was very nice. What's more, he was quite knowledgeable. He asked about the new pasture I want to put in, got some specs from me, and should provide us with a quote later this week.

While a pot of tea was brewing, and Robert was fiddling with his new electronic toy (more on that soon), Karen and I sat down to review the events of the evening... when there was a knock at the door.

It was Sheila, wondering if I'd picked up my camera before she left.

I hadn't.

She had set it down on the side of the trailer while we picked up the glass. Extensive searching proved futile until we meticulously retraced every step since the explosion.

We finally discovered the camera -- a quarter of a mile down the road by my neighbor's. Yes, it was destroyed... but the memory card with the insurance pictures (and photos of Cassandra looking for Easter eggs last Sunday) was intact.

What a day!

Robert, meanwhile, was installing, updating, charging, and initializing our new VOIP phones. It's new technology. He's beyond thrilled. I'm one of those people who would love to just keep our rotary dial phone forever, because it has great sound quality and doesn't require electricity to work.

Getting the VOIP up and working is Part I of the new Grand Phone Plan. Our current number--which is on my business cards, and other professional printouts--will be transferred to the VOIP phone (featuring Caller ID and other nifties) and will become the work / business number. A second, unlisted, number will be used for our private line. I'm all for progress. But really, I meant it about the rotary phone.

I called the jury hotline to discover that the courts of Berrien County have no need of my services, so Denise and I are headed to the Carriage Auction in Topeka, IN. It's an annual spring event. After Wednesday, I think I need a day away.

Denise wants some heavy bobsled bobs. My neighbor Rhonda wants me to look for some lighter sleigh runners. I'd like to find a decent work harness and a singletree for Nehi, my Welsh Cob. (I've misplaced or loaned out my singletree, and can't remember where it is, or who might have it... Not so bright on my part.)

And that, dear Reader, brings you up to date. Now do you see why I prefer to blog about writing stuff?