Wisdom and bear hugs

To borrow a line from my favorite movie, Surf Ninjas, "I've got nothing." For the first time I actually can't think of what to post about. Shocking, I know. All I can think about is what I have to do before I fly to San Antonio in...thirty-two hours. Yikes! My nerves haven't taken over yet and thanks to a lovely pep talk from Mama Bear, AKA my favorite director, I don't think that will happen.

ACT was in need of ushers for the penultimate performance of Thoroughly Modern Millie so I went down to help out. The show had sold out and I wanted to see it so it worked out well. After a fantastic performance I chatted with the director and my friends in the company. (Since I retired from the theater in order to pursue a writing career, they rarely get to see me. That's why I go down there once or twice a year to usher because no matter how busy I am, it's nice to get away and see old friends. The fact that I get to see a show in my theatrical home away from home is a bonus.) When I told Mama about my trip she said "have a wonderful time." The only response I could give was a strained "I'll try." I tried to walk away because there were a few more people I needed to say hi to but Mama stopped me. She looked me in the eye and said "Be safe, have fun, and don't stress out. You're smart and capable. Show them how talented you are. You've got this."

After hearing that I realized that this was like any audition. As long as I learned my lines (in this case my novel pitches) and present myself as a dedicated professional, it'll all work out. Even if I don't get what I'm after this time, I can rest assured knowing that I did my best and that no one will think ill of me. There's always next time.

I still find it funny that I can hear the same advice, put different ways and from different people, but it isn't until it's phrased and delivered exactly so that it finally sinks in. That's how it was with Write the F*#%ing sentence and Chuck Wendig's succinct motivational messages. Lots of dear friends have wished me luck this past week and expressed how much they believe in me, and I appreciate each and every one of those remarks. They've helped stave off the effects of my own psychic sabotage. But sometimes it takes a different approach to really get through to me. I don't know if that makes me thick headed or simply unique. I'll assume it's the latter. So don't worry about me because I've got this. I'm going to WorldCon and I'm going to have a safe, fun, and stress free week.

Heh. I guess I knew what to write after all. Must be proof that Mama Bear knows best.




In case you missed it, I did another guest post on The Fictorian Era about the writing lesson I learned from my favorite video game.

An Impromptu Rehearsal

Saturday night I returned to the theater for a special event. A dear friend, who also happens to be my favorite director, finished her degree and a commencement ceremony along with a reception was being held at ACT. I should clarify that the only person at this commencement ceremony that had actually graduated was my friend. The valedictorian's speech was script that was lovingly written by the organizers and the rest of the "graduating class" were the casts of You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown and The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. Out of all the commencements I've been to, not only was this the first that didn't threaten to put me to sleep, it was by far the funniest.

It was wonderful being able to see my theater family again, many of whom I hadn't seen in several months. There were even a few people there that I hadn't seen since I retired. Of course, since it had been so long, the questions I heard the most were "what are you up to?" and "how is the writing going?" I've written in a past post about how I don't mind answering these questions. However, I've never been subjected to it with as much frequency as that night. It actually started to get on my nerves. I had to remind myself that being asked about my writing was a good thing. If they weren't genuinely interested, they wouldn't ask.

It didn't occur to me until near the end of the evening that this was exactly what I'd like to happen at WorldCon. So in some ways this was an unexpected practice run. (Leave it to actors to turn an event to an impromptu rehearsal without knowing it.) Once I had this mini-revelation, the whole night turned around. The questions ceased to be annoying and I didn't need to draw on my acting skills to make the thirtieth answer as energetic as the first. Yet again, changing how I view the situation has provided me with exactly what I needed.