Rachael

It is not new for me to discover brand-new obvious things. Like when I was asked about how I got into dispatching. "Well, I went to school forever and ever and got a Master’s degree in English and creative writing, and then I decided I hated teaching, so then I got a job that requires a high school diploma." And then (this was a couple of years ago) I remembered something.

Oh, my. When I graduated from high school, I was accepted to good schools. But I was one of those kids who just wasn’t quite ready to fly the nest. I decided to do the community college route after taking a semester off. (My parents worried I’d never go back.)

And I remembered this: I picked up a application to be a dispatcher for the Pismo Beach Police Department. I think I filled it out — I don’t remember if I ever got to the testing process or not. But I remember desiring it, thinking it would be a great job.

So here I am, years later, fully college edemacated, working as a 911 fire/medical dispatcher. And yep, it’s a great job (especially when one can fit the writing in at work, like I did today and yesterday).

I remembered something else, that’s the point I’m getting to, oh so very slowly. While at work, I can’t monopolize the internet computer that I share with my partner, so I have to write by hand and type it out later. I think the very process of writing longhand, and writing romance at that, brought back a memory: Me, aged ten or eleven, lying in a hammock on a warm summer day, Sugar Daddy candies close at hand, reading my handwritten romance novel out loud to my best friend Evelyn (Evelyn Bailey, if you google yourself and find yourself here, email me, wouldja?). I wonder if I still have that little novella. I know I didn’t finish it (even back then I had trouble with endings) but I remember it was something about a boy (older, at least sixteen) who kissed — KISSED — the protagonist who was probably named something like Violette or Meaghane. I think I got to the kissing scene, wrote it, and then ran the hell away, not knowing where to go after that (and thank god I didn’t).

(Hi, do I like parentheses today or what?)

It was nice, though. Writing by hand, suddenly remembering that. I have lofty ambitions sometimes, like everyone else. But honestly, I’ve always been more drawn to the more prosaic. Yep, I’m smart and driven, but I work a blue-collar job (literally) and I want to write romance novels (among other things).

Nothing wrong with either.

I confused you with Scott Simon! I confused his sweet, overeager voice (when dealing with baseball only; at all other times he is professionally calm and undereager) with your fine, controlled live-from-Baghdad one. I don’t know how to explain how I did that except that I was not well-enough caffeinated.

And not only did I confuse you two, but because of the tunnels in the knitters’ underground (this is how we get wool from Canada), YOU FOUND OUT that I mixed up the two of you. And now, forever more, instead of thinking of me as Rachael Herron, writer and avid NPR aficionado, you will think of me as Rachael Herron, that girl who doesn’t know how many minutes are in an inning AND can’t tell voices apart when listening to her factory-installed cassette-tape radio on her way to work.

I hope you will forgive the gaffe.

Don’t tell Scott, huh?

Be careful over there.

Yours very truly,
Rachael.

** edited to add:

Also:

Dear Corey Flintoff, Scott Simon, and Ira Glass (who is not part of this but I adore you, too),

If you would like a pair handknit socks to make up for the confusion, please specify color and size. I am not kidding. Nor am I a stalker. I just like to knit socks.

Yours very truly again,
Rachael.

Lala sent this photo and message to my phone.

I love that he is bothersome.

Hello kids! I’m at work. It’s 7:45, and I’ve been up for three hours already. I hope you’re still sleeping, and that your coffee-pot is pre-programmed.

I have this to say, I am not a baseball fan. I don’t dislike it, I just don’t know anything about it. I am the one who infamously said, at the first of the two baseball events I have attended, "how many minutes are in an inning?" I’m still not totally sure why that was so funny. I swear, people hurt themselves laughing. The rows all around us heard what I said, as it was carried from person to hysterical person.

But Corey Flintoff? On NPR? He who can speak so clearly and calmly and intelligently on just about any subject? When he talks about baseball, it’s like when I talk about yarn. He just loses it, and he is so damn cute. Have you heard that? Do you know what I mean? Usually, when it comes to sports, I’ll flip the radio channel when people start babbling. But him…. oh, just so adorable.

And a local item of interest: A new beginning knitting class is registering over at KnitOneOne. It starts on Tuesday Sept 11th—2 hours for 4 weeks (total of 8 hours).

From Sile’s description:

In Kate’s beginning class, she teaches the basics
(but of course!) and then she gets people
knitting in the round and on DPN’s. And of course
Ms Kate makes the class a lot of fun for everyone!

As we tell the students, after Kate’s class they
can tackle just about any knitting project. (My
coach Kevin is proof positive of that—he is
signing up for Julie’s sweater class and he took
beginning knitting in May!)

Sile’s classes are wonderful — you should do it if you’ve been thinking about learning. This would be the place and the time.

What else? My weekend which starts tomorrow is jam-packed with fun things to do — we’re seeing Big Bad Voodoo Daddy AND Lucinda Williams tomorrow at the Oakland Art and Soul festival, and Monday is the Ladies’ Banjo Society Annual Picnic, and I have Tuesday and Wednesday OFF, which is nice after this rather draining 62-hour work week.

Now you go have fun! Right now!

(Oh, one more bit of miscellaneous stuff: I’ve been meaning to share this with you for some
time. Sil, this is for you. My friends Camilla and Kirk are getting
married soon. And they have THE BEST EVER wedding website. You don’t
have to know them to get the humor. And if you don’t get the humor,
then it’s best you don’t know them. Oh, lordy. Sometimes, on a blue
day, I’ll go to the site, just to cheer myself up. Enjoy, with Camilla’s blessing (but don’t crash the wedding unless you get them a REALLY super-expensive present).)

make me feel good. Thank you for reading, thank you for voting, thank you for encouraging.

But dude, I’m feeling weird about entering that contest now. I’m ready for it to be over, so I can have the manuscript back and start making changes. Edits. Big edits.

It feels like…..

[Here I spend time thinking about an appropriate analogy and this is what I come up with:]

It feels like I wrote a rough draft (a shitty first draft, SFD, as Anne Lamott calls it — just gotta get it on paper) and MAILED IT OUT. And wow. That’s not an analogy. That’s what happened.

I WANT IT BACK.

But I can’t have it.

[Edited to add: Yes, I still have the manuscript, stored in many different ways. But I think even though I want to edit it, and even though I’m freaking out that I sent it, I want at least a month to let it settle a bit.]

So I’m working on the next thing. It feels really, really good to be working. I have so much more energy now those tonsils are outta there! I was under-the-weather for what, four months? That really drags on you, and I feel SO much better. Me and Digit. We’re feisty again.

But you want to see the kittens, right? Or at least one? And a chihuahua? Or the head of a chihuahua?

Someday we will be able to afford to purchase the rest of the dog.

You enjoy your Labor Day weekend, huh? I’m planning to. Drive safely.

So last Tuesday, Michele and Janice M. both pointed me in the direction of a First Romance Novel Competition. A site called Gather.com has teamed up with Simon & Schuster and Borders to hold a kind of American Idol competition for romance writers. (I know, I know.)

Only thing was, they wanted the first two chapters, and the competition closed the next day, Wednesday. I had one day to polish the first two chapters. Sure, I could do that.

Then I read the fine print. You also had to submit THE WHOLE NOVEL in email form. Which is why I spent last Wednesday writing and editing for nine hours. The ending was rushed, yes, but not as rushed as I thought it would be.

So the contest is now live. You can read the first chapter of this silly romance novel of mine (which has knitting! Lots of knitting! Spinning! Pretentious references to things that you, my dear readers, will understand — sadly, not in the first chapter, though) and vote for it. (Working title – Love Spun. Heh.)

This is how it works: The first round is the first chapter. People vote, casting a number from 1-10, 10 being the best. The fifteen chapters with the most number of 10s will proceed to the second round Votes of numbers 1-9 don’t even count, so if you DO like it at all, if you want me to proceed, 10 is the number to keep in mind. If you think I deserve it, that is. After that round, the five people with the most 10s cast for their second chapter will move on to the last round – The Gather.com, Borders, and Simon & Schuster people will decide on the winner, who will be published and featured prominently in all Borders stores.

Now, they’re tracking votes by IP and username, so you can’t vote more than once, or the chapter might be disqualified. Because I know you, dear reader, and you might pull something sweet like that.

You have to register for the site to vote, which is one of those "social" sites. They won’t sell/share your email address, and you can opt out of receiving any emails from them.

You wanna read it? Really?

My chapter (with an egregious typo or two – "Now way" should be "no way" and it makes me want to cry when I think about it) is HERE.  And all the rest, if you’d like to vote on them as well, are here. Woot!

* And yes, this is the same book that I wrote for Nanowrimo last year, then facetiously titled Bleating Hearts —
you might already have read the excerpt here (turn the flash page at the bottom right to read it, but
don’t do that till you read the first chapter and vote! Hooray!).

** at noon, looks like their site is bogged down. Don’t give up…. Try again later? Please? xox