Last night, the unthinkable happened.
My computer fell to the floor from its precarious perch on the narrow arm of my futon and now I'm waiting with baited breath to see if it finally dies. I mean, I hope it doesn't, but I've lost other electronics in a similar fashion in the past, so there's kind of a precedent set in my life for this sort of thing.
One might wonder what my trusty laptop was doing balancing on the thin wooden arm of a futon, and the answer is simple: I was trying to obtain a wireless Internet signal from my downstairs neighbors and that just happened to be the only place in the apartment where I can actually find a signal. Go figure. During that time, while sitting with legs crossed on the couch, a half-empty (or maybe depending on your philosophical slant, a half-full) bottle of Poland Spring in my hand, I felt the faintest tickle on my back, which I immediately presumed was a spider and lashed around in defiance in an attempt to kill said arachnid. Apparently, in so doing, I knocked over my computer. Who didn't see that one coming?
Did I mention there was no spider?
So here I am, sitting at my desk at work wondering if I should compulsively save everything I'm writing in the event that my computer crashes. It is running a bit slow today, but I can't tell if it's any slower than usual.
Every time I click on a webpage or attempt to access my email account and I see the "red rainbow wheel of death," I have a minor anxiety attack. I don't even realize I'm holding my breath until my page finally loads and I can let it out and breathe again.
I guess Carrie Bradshaw summed it up best in that Sex and the City episode: "After all, computers crash, people die, relationships fall apart. The best we can do is breathe and reboot."
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Plotting the novel: The real reason writers are neurotic
Writing is more than just chasing ambulances and fire trucks and spending countless hours harassing the cops for information... or so I've read.
Last night, I finished reading Lisa Gardner's latest book, "Love You More," which was phenomenal. To be honest, I think the best part of the whole book was the acknowledgments, not because the substance of the book was bad, but because in her acknowledgments section, Gardner was much wittier and more candid than I would've expected from a suspense writer. I burst out laughing on at least two occasions while reading those two pages alone, although throughout the week I was reading the book, I did post a number of quotes as my status update on Facebook.
I'll admit part of the reason I so enjoyed this book was because its characters were Boston police officers and Massachusetts state troopers. And Gardner put both entities through the wringer. In retrospect (and for her sake!) I really hope they have a sense of humor. The whole time I was reading, I thought of my cop/trooper friends and it struck me that I could easily do this. I already write for a living, and I know I do that well. How much harder can it be to write a book? The trick, according to Gardner, is to conduct research and learn "new and inventive ways to commit murder and mayhem," as she so eloquently wrote in the acknowledgments. "Oh, and, um, also spending quality time with law enforcement officials who remind me why a life of crime really isn't a good idea, and thus I should continue to hope the whole writing gig pans out." Haha. She said it so perfectly and I'll take any excuse to spend time in the company of the cops. They're a pretty fascinating group of people.
That said, I have been toying with the idea of writing a novel lately, but I'm not sure what kind. Given that I've never written a book before, I can't really be squished into one category, i.e. suspense or romance, etc.. I love reading cheesy, girlie novels otherwise referred to as "chick lit" but I'd kill to write a suspense-type book like Gardner's... if only because I'd love to create some mahem and - ahem - kill someone. Figuratively, of course.
During the last few weeks (as always), I've been mulling over a few ideas, and after reading Gardner's acknowledgments (and subsequently, her website), I think I may have to bite the bullet and give it a go. This could be fun. I tend to have an active imagination anyway, so this might prove to be the perfect outlet. Maybe I can finally get what I want out of life, even if I am only giving it to my characters (although not without a little stumble here and there!). All I have to do is come up with an idea, throw in a few crazy plot twists, exacerbate conflicts and character development with sexual tension and, oh yeah, create a little mayhem... how hard could it be?
Last night, I finished reading Lisa Gardner's latest book, "Love You More," which was phenomenal. To be honest, I think the best part of the whole book was the acknowledgments, not because the substance of the book was bad, but because in her acknowledgments section, Gardner was much wittier and more candid than I would've expected from a suspense writer. I burst out laughing on at least two occasions while reading those two pages alone, although throughout the week I was reading the book, I did post a number of quotes as my status update on Facebook.
I'll admit part of the reason I so enjoyed this book was because its characters were Boston police officers and Massachusetts state troopers. And Gardner put both entities through the wringer. In retrospect (and for her sake!) I really hope they have a sense of humor. The whole time I was reading, I thought of my cop/trooper friends and it struck me that I could easily do this. I already write for a living, and I know I do that well. How much harder can it be to write a book? The trick, according to Gardner, is to conduct research and learn "new and inventive ways to commit murder and mayhem," as she so eloquently wrote in the acknowledgments. "Oh, and, um, also spending quality time with law enforcement officials who remind me why a life of crime really isn't a good idea, and thus I should continue to hope the whole writing gig pans out." Haha. She said it so perfectly and I'll take any excuse to spend time in the company of the cops. They're a pretty fascinating group of people.
That said, I have been toying with the idea of writing a novel lately, but I'm not sure what kind. Given that I've never written a book before, I can't really be squished into one category, i.e. suspense or romance, etc.. I love reading cheesy, girlie novels otherwise referred to as "chick lit" but I'd kill to write a suspense-type book like Gardner's... if only because I'd love to create some mahem and - ahem - kill someone. Figuratively, of course.
During the last few weeks (as always), I've been mulling over a few ideas, and after reading Gardner's acknowledgments (and subsequently, her website), I think I may have to bite the bullet and give it a go. This could be fun. I tend to have an active imagination anyway, so this might prove to be the perfect outlet. Maybe I can finally get what I want out of life, even if I am only giving it to my characters (although not without a little stumble here and there!). All I have to do is come up with an idea, throw in a few crazy plot twists, exacerbate conflicts and character development with sexual tension and, oh yeah, create a little mayhem... how hard could it be?
Thursday, September 8, 2011
The power of positive thinking
Some say when you really, really want something, you need to set your mind upon getting it. Positive visualization and all that.
Last night, while watching reruns of Criminal Minds before bed, I was poking around various websites out of sheer boredom when I stumbled on HigherEdJobs.com. And I thought, "What the hell, it's been a good three months since I've tackled the fruitless task of conducting a job search, so why not?"
And there, I found it... my dream job (sort of!) right here in Springfield.
Because I have both a full-time and part-time job that more or less covers my living expenses, I have given myself the luxury of time as far as the job search has gone. In the last three years or so, I've applied to countless positions, some of which I really wanted, others I know I was barely qualified for, just to say I've been looking. But it's always been with the thought that I don't have to settle for something I don't really want... unless the salary is too good to pass up.
On a whim, I logged into HigherEdJobs.com and found an Editorial Assistant position open at Springfield College. The job description reads as follows:
Under general supervision, prepares written material for publication, performing any one of the following duties: copyedits and proofreads to detect errors in spelling, punctuation, and syntax; verifies facts, dates, and statistics using standard reference sources; rewrites or modifies copy to conform to publication's style and editorial policy and marks copy for design, using standard symbols; maintains photography files, selects photography upon request, builds relationships with photographers and assigns and assists in photo shoots; prepares updated drafts of text upon request; serves as compiler of Class News & Notes for the College's flagship magazine; utilizes advanced computerized word processing programs and techniques to produce documents and/or narrative materials.
This position requires a minimum of an A.A. degree or equivalent with a minimum of three years related experience preferred. Strong knowledge of Chicago Manual of Style, Associate Press style, and punctuation and syntax. Familiarity with Macintosh software programs that impact design (Photoshop, Illustrator, Quark) helpful but not essential to performing the duties of the position. Position requires: a) Utilizing computerized graphic programs or word processing in the development and formatting of reports and documents; b) compiling and preparing text from copy, notes, voice, or other format; and c) proofreading and editing documents in accordance with pre-set guidelines.
If that's not the perfect job for me, I don't know what is. The added benefit, of course, is that the job is at a college -- which has been the primary focus of my search so far. Ideally, I'd like to go back to school and get my master's degree or another bachelor's degree, and working at the college level would likely only aid me in that mission.
So, to whatever higher power is looking down on my life -- I want this job. I know it's perfect for me and I'm perfect for it. Let's throw a little luck my way this time, huh?
Last night, while watching reruns of Criminal Minds before bed, I was poking around various websites out of sheer boredom when I stumbled on HigherEdJobs.com. And I thought, "What the hell, it's been a good three months since I've tackled the fruitless task of conducting a job search, so why not?"
And there, I found it... my dream job (sort of!) right here in Springfield.
Because I have both a full-time and part-time job that more or less covers my living expenses, I have given myself the luxury of time as far as the job search has gone. In the last three years or so, I've applied to countless positions, some of which I really wanted, others I know I was barely qualified for, just to say I've been looking. But it's always been with the thought that I don't have to settle for something I don't really want... unless the salary is too good to pass up.
On a whim, I logged into HigherEdJobs.com and found an Editorial Assistant position open at Springfield College. The job description reads as follows:
Under general supervision, prepares written material for publication, performing any one of the following duties: copyedits and proofreads to detect errors in spelling, punctuation, and syntax; verifies facts, dates, and statistics using standard reference sources; rewrites or modifies copy to conform to publication's style and editorial policy and marks copy for design, using standard symbols; maintains photography files, selects photography upon request, builds relationships with photographers and assigns and assists in photo shoots; prepares updated drafts of text upon request; serves as compiler of Class News & Notes for the College's flagship magazine; utilizes advanced computerized word processing programs and techniques to produce documents and/or narrative materials.
This position requires a minimum of an A.A. degree or equivalent with a minimum of three years related experience preferred. Strong knowledge of Chicago Manual of Style, Associate Press style, and punctuation and syntax. Familiarity with Macintosh software programs that impact design (Photoshop, Illustrator, Quark) helpful but not essential to performing the duties of the position. Position requires: a) Utilizing computerized graphic programs or word processing in the development and formatting of reports and documents; b) compiling and preparing text from copy, notes, voice, or other format; and c) proofreading and editing documents in accordance with pre-set guidelines.
If that's not the perfect job for me, I don't know what is. The added benefit, of course, is that the job is at a college -- which has been the primary focus of my search so far. Ideally, I'd like to go back to school and get my master's degree or another bachelor's degree, and working at the college level would likely only aid me in that mission.
So, to whatever higher power is looking down on my life -- I want this job. I know it's perfect for me and I'm perfect for it. Let's throw a little luck my way this time, huh?
Monday, September 5, 2011
Murder mystery
I need to remind myself not to read books about serial killers or watch tv shows like Criminal Minds alone at night right before I go to bed. I tend to freak myself out this way.
Yesterday, I was laid up in bed (or rather, on the couch) with a cold so I decided to read "A Murder in Belmont" by Sebastian Junger, a book about the Boston Strangler. I am fascinated by the Strangler stories. I started reading them a year or so ago when I was visiting my mother in Dracut and I took a book out of the local library on that subject. I never got a chance to finish that book before I had to return it, but the fascination remained. When I saw the Junger book on my friend's bookshelf a few weeks ago, I knew I had to read it.
I've got conflicting emotions while reading this book... On the one hand, I want to yell and scream at the Strangler victims to exercise a little more self-preservation than they had, but I also can't help but wonder if perhaps the killer was just that enigmatic. Maybe they were all just doomed. After all, Ted Bundy was an educated, good looking man who probably disarmed all his victims with only a smile. Perhaps it was the same for the Strangler victims — most of whom were women in their early 60s. Nevermind the fact that the 1960s was a different time; maybe there wasn't as much reason to be concerned for safety as there is today.
In any event, I was reading the Strangler book last night right before I watched two episodes of Criminal Minds, which happened to be right before I decided I wanted to go to bed. By the time I shut the TV off and settled under the covers, I was convinced every sound I heard meant someone was out to get me. This isn't the first time I've felt that way either. Once, while dog-sitting for a friend in a rural neighborhood in Ware, I watched a Criminal Minds marathon right before I decided to take the dog out for his last potty break of the day. It was about 11 p.m. and pitch black outside. I lasted less than three minutes before the shadows (and Barkley's incessant barking) convinced me something sinister was lurking and I made my way back to the relative safety of the house.
I'm all about watching murder mysteries on TV or reading true crime stories about them, but I'm all set with becoming a victim.
Yesterday, I was laid up in bed (or rather, on the couch) with a cold so I decided to read "A Murder in Belmont" by Sebastian Junger, a book about the Boston Strangler. I am fascinated by the Strangler stories. I started reading them a year or so ago when I was visiting my mother in Dracut and I took a book out of the local library on that subject. I never got a chance to finish that book before I had to return it, but the fascination remained. When I saw the Junger book on my friend's bookshelf a few weeks ago, I knew I had to read it.
I've got conflicting emotions while reading this book... On the one hand, I want to yell and scream at the Strangler victims to exercise a little more self-preservation than they had, but I also can't help but wonder if perhaps the killer was just that enigmatic. Maybe they were all just doomed. After all, Ted Bundy was an educated, good looking man who probably disarmed all his victims with only a smile. Perhaps it was the same for the Strangler victims — most of whom were women in their early 60s. Nevermind the fact that the 1960s was a different time; maybe there wasn't as much reason to be concerned for safety as there is today.
In any event, I was reading the Strangler book last night right before I watched two episodes of Criminal Minds, which happened to be right before I decided I wanted to go to bed. By the time I shut the TV off and settled under the covers, I was convinced every sound I heard meant someone was out to get me. This isn't the first time I've felt that way either. Once, while dog-sitting for a friend in a rural neighborhood in Ware, I watched a Criminal Minds marathon right before I decided to take the dog out for his last potty break of the day. It was about 11 p.m. and pitch black outside. I lasted less than three minutes before the shadows (and Barkley's incessant barking) convinced me something sinister was lurking and I made my way back to the relative safety of the house.
I'm all about watching murder mysteries on TV or reading true crime stories about them, but I'm all set with becoming a victim.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Mother knows best...
It's taken me awhile, but I think I've finally learned to listen to and trust my body.
A few weeks ago, while in the midst of our total market coverage (TMC) editions, which are sent to every residence in the town I cover, I started to feel rundown but I pushed it aside in an effort to get all my work done. TMC weeks are, arguably, the biggest editions of my paper each year; this year, because our back-to-school edition was the week following TMCs, I had three super-stressful weeks at work. Like always, the second the stress subsided, I was walloped. It took just three days for a cold to set in.
In the past, if I was sick during the workweek, I'd power through and "rest" on the weekend. I always feel like as a reporter, I have a responsibility to my paper, to work as hard as I can to put out the best-quality publication as I can. But in the past, when I tried to work through the sickness, I'd been sicker, longer. Today, I didn't think twice about taking the day off from work to rest — and boy did I need it!
Growing up, my mom always made me spend the day in bed whenever I was home sick from school. I always hated being cooped up, but I now officially understand the value of my mother's wisdom. I spent today on my couch after waking up at my usual time and, although I wasn't doing anything strenuous, I felt exhausted fairly quickly. Whenever those moments hit me, I would close my eyes to rest/relax, and ended up falling asleep for over an hour each time. Now, although only dinner time, I feel more refreshed and alive than I have in days. I have no doubt I have my mom to thank for this.
Never again will I put my job before my health. I love what I do (and I do it well), but I realize I'm not doing anyone much good by going to work in the cloudy fog of sickness like I have these last few days. I know I don't always listen to my mother's pearls of wisdom, but perhaps I should. After all, if this is any indication, mother knows best.
A few weeks ago, while in the midst of our total market coverage (TMC) editions, which are sent to every residence in the town I cover, I started to feel rundown but I pushed it aside in an effort to get all my work done. TMC weeks are, arguably, the biggest editions of my paper each year; this year, because our back-to-school edition was the week following TMCs, I had three super-stressful weeks at work. Like always, the second the stress subsided, I was walloped. It took just three days for a cold to set in.
In the past, if I was sick during the workweek, I'd power through and "rest" on the weekend. I always feel like as a reporter, I have a responsibility to my paper, to work as hard as I can to put out the best-quality publication as I can. But in the past, when I tried to work through the sickness, I'd been sicker, longer. Today, I didn't think twice about taking the day off from work to rest — and boy did I need it!
Growing up, my mom always made me spend the day in bed whenever I was home sick from school. I always hated being cooped up, but I now officially understand the value of my mother's wisdom. I spent today on my couch after waking up at my usual time and, although I wasn't doing anything strenuous, I felt exhausted fairly quickly. Whenever those moments hit me, I would close my eyes to rest/relax, and ended up falling asleep for over an hour each time. Now, although only dinner time, I feel more refreshed and alive than I have in days. I have no doubt I have my mom to thank for this.
Never again will I put my job before my health. I love what I do (and I do it well), but I realize I'm not doing anyone much good by going to work in the cloudy fog of sickness like I have these last few days. I know I don't always listen to my mother's pearls of wisdom, but perhaps I should. After all, if this is any indication, mother knows best.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Keep your friends close...
For the last month or so, a friend of mine has been crashing on my couch and now that she's packed up her stuff and moved back home, I feel... lost.
When I first offered her the option of staying with me (due to circumstances I won't discuss here), I felt apprehensive because I've never been the type of person who liked having a roommate. Just the thought of having someone invade my personal space was enough to give me heart palpitations, but I figured she was in a bind and I was in a position where I could help, so I did. During the period of time that she spent with me, I learned a lot about myself and I can honestly say I'm a better person for having had her around.
I think there's something to be said for friendships that are built on similarities. What I didn't know prior to this experience is that she and I are a lot alike. We're both writers who work tirelessly to put out the best quality of news possible, despite the usual hardships full-time writers face. Outside of work, we both enjoy reading (she brought a huge pile of books with her to my house, for which I was thankful because I found a few interesting novels to read) and we both seem to be unlucky in love. It's refreshing to talk to someone who understands exactly how that can negatively affect my overall outlook on life. Plus just having someone around to talk to and laugh with was nice, I won't lie.
Now that she's "moved out," I find myself bored with my same old routine. Quality alone time is important, but I crave company. I want more than anything to go out and do something, anything... but what?
When I first offered her the option of staying with me (due to circumstances I won't discuss here), I felt apprehensive because I've never been the type of person who liked having a roommate. Just the thought of having someone invade my personal space was enough to give me heart palpitations, but I figured she was in a bind and I was in a position where I could help, so I did. During the period of time that she spent with me, I learned a lot about myself and I can honestly say I'm a better person for having had her around.
I think there's something to be said for friendships that are built on similarities. What I didn't know prior to this experience is that she and I are a lot alike. We're both writers who work tirelessly to put out the best quality of news possible, despite the usual hardships full-time writers face. Outside of work, we both enjoy reading (she brought a huge pile of books with her to my house, for which I was thankful because I found a few interesting novels to read) and we both seem to be unlucky in love. It's refreshing to talk to someone who understands exactly how that can negatively affect my overall outlook on life. Plus just having someone around to talk to and laugh with was nice, I won't lie.
Now that she's "moved out," I find myself bored with my same old routine. Quality alone time is important, but I crave company. I want more than anything to go out and do something, anything... but what?
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
What's a girl to do?
I sat in the waiting room of the service station wondering what, exactly, was taking so long with my car. I had been waiting for over and hour and a half and all I asked for was an oil change. Did an oil change really take that long?
When the service representative finally called me over to tell me that my car was all set, she broke the bad news. The mechanic had performed the oil change I requested as well as a tire rotation, but while conducting an overall inspection of my 4-year-old SUV, found that I had a few “problem areas” that needed to be addressed — $1,600 worth of problems, in fact. The good news was, at least half of the items listed on the estimate sheet the service representative handed me were covered under my extended warranty. The bad news was that half of the items listed on the estimate sheet would need to come out of my pocket.
I smiled and nodded politely as she outlined my options, and I tried in vain to work out the math in my head without outwardly showing her that she was giving me a migraine.
By the time I scheduled a follow-up appointment to fix those problems, she handed over my keys and I made my way back to my car. I decided I had one of two options: I could trade it in and buy the shiny, new SUV I’d had my eye on for the last few months, or I could suck it up and fork over the money for the repairs. Given that the former option was about a likely as my getting hired as a television news anchor for a national news organization, I decided to plan on the latter.
This was exactly the reason why I went out and purchased a new car four years ago: I didn’t want to have to worry about exorbitant repair bills. And while it seemed like a good idea at the time to pay up front for a problem-free new vehicle and accompanying warranty (I thought ahead and bought the best warranty the dealership had to offer, which is, admittedly, coming in handy now), the fact that I’m now faced with huge “routine” maintenance/repair bills with only 57,000 miles under my (serpentine) belt is slightly… irksome. If not for my excellent warranty, I would have been in trouble; even with my warranty, I’m struggling.
When I called my dad to lament my misfortune, he informed me that I am just one of many car owners who feel this way during this economic climate. Evidently, he was right.
A study recently released by AAA indicates that at least one quarter of American drivers neglect car repairs or maintenance due to the economy. One in four people could not afford to pay for a vehicle repair of $2,000 if faced with one today, and one in eight would be unable to pay for a $1,000 repair, the study indicated.
Well then, at least I’m in good company.
Despite the financial burden, AAA encourages drivers to keep their vehicles up-to-date on routine maintenance in order to prevent more expensive problems in the future, but therein lies the rub. Do you come up with the money now in an attempt to stave off the inevitable, or do you tempt fate and hold off on spending money you don’t have in the hopes of winning the lottery? And if you win the lottery, do you pay for repairs or do you buy a new car outright?
I’d go for the latter, but that’s just me. A girl can dream, can’t she?
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