The Fragrance of Whispers

Today, a friend and mentor was recognized for 40 years of service to his employer, a professional association. That type of longevity, in any profession, has become rare, causing me to reflect on why.

Often, when we find ourselves in imperfect situations, we give up, moving on to a new job or a new community or a new relationship. Sometimes that’s the right thing to do, but Brent always worked to make things better. One might pass that off, saying that  as a leader in his organization, he has the ability to make changes that others do not share, but that is not true. Brent is answerable to a very engaged board as well as to the members of the association. He cannot simply do whatever he wants. In that respect, he was no different than the hourly worker supervised by an assistant manager, an attorney who must follow the instructions of his clients and the court, or a business owner answerable to his customers. No one gets to make the rules on their own – not if they want the changes to stick. And that’s what makes Brent remarkable.

Over the years, I’ve watched Brent guide the organization through challenging times. He brings thoughtful ideas to his board and membership in an effort to make the organization stronger. In other words, he serves them and their needs, and that mentality of service has molded an effective organization in every respect, and shown Brent to be an extraordinary leader. Perhaps each of our lives would be a little better if we tried to make our workplaces, communities, and relationships better rather than blame someone else for the problems and walk away.

I am grateful to have had the opportunity to observe and learn.

I was speaking with a friend last night who was surprised to hear that I write everyday. There are a few exceptions, of course. A day or two off here or there. Out of town book fairs or conventions that consume an entire day’s energy. But otherwise, I always write. “That must be hard,” he commented.

Indeed, it is hard. There are many days I am wrestling with characters who don’t want to comply or flailing around for a good setting where certain events can be revealed. But I think his comment was directed at doing it everyday. I won’t say there aren’t days when I’d rather not sit down and write, but overall, the everyday part is easy. I love writing. I love fine tuning my craft. I love analyzing how certain combinations of words and phrases will affect readers. By asking me about it last night, my friend reminded me that I’m doing what I love, and I am grateful that I get to pursue it everyday.

Over the past week, I’ve seen a lot of friends – old friends, new ones, very close personal ones and the more casual but still consistent ones – and was struck by how, at first blush, they have nothing in common. From brash to mousey. From liberal to conservative. From ponderously serious to joyously silly. From academicians to salesmen to service personnel. Each is unique and each is special to me.

But this evening, I realized there was one trait that distinguishes those who are my friends from those who are not: their outlook toward others. My friends look for the best in people. They assume each person is good until demonstrated otherwise. They do not approach each new person and their distinctiveness as a menace to their interests or way of life. And looking for goodness, they usually find it.

I am blessed to have such a rich array of people in my life, but I am even more grateful for their positive outlooks. It brings out the best in others, including myself.

Like the swallows returning to Capistrano, each spring the robins become protective of their specific nesting grounds. We have one such red-breasted fellow in our yard who returns each year to find a rival firmly ensconced in his territory. And so he goes on the attack, launching himself over and over at the marauding fiend only to bash himself an invisible, never-yielding barrier that separates the two. For days or sometimes weeks he continues until the sun has moved higher in the sky, dissolving the reflection in the plate glass door.

Perhaps someday he will learn that each year the same faulty conclusion and aggression leaves him fighting with himself. Or perhaps someday he will win, but that victory will cost him his life. But for now, I am grateful for the allegory and the sure sign of Spring.

Today was filled with meetings that didn’t go as expected forcing me to flip the “on” switch more than I expected, followed by driving a high profile SUV for 180 miles in high gusting winds, then sitting in a traffic jam (because a truck had blown off the road) for 45 minutes. And it started off with me in a bad mood because I was questioning whether I was “wrong” for acting true to my nature – as had been suggested to me.

Fortunately, I headed to a bar when I arrived back in Columbus to celebrate a friend’s business anniversary. Two vodka martini’s and the company of friends snapped everything back into perspective. The meeting had gone well, resulting in an open dialogue filled with promising new ideas, even if it wasn’t the meeting I’d been prepared for. Unlike the unfortunate driver of the truck off the road, I made it home safely despite the high winds. And I should always be true to the self – that person that my friends love and support.

Some days, you just need a drink and some friends to remember what’s important. This was one of those days and I’m glad I had both.

I spent the weekend at Hanover College’s annual Geek-A-Thon. I really enjoy any place where I can talk to readers and about writing, but this was AWESOME. Not only did I do what I went there to do, I learned to play a new game called “Attraction” – kind of like marbles but with irregularly shaped magnets. I slept in a tent city set up in a small library. I hung out with Michael Williams, a brilliant author. I watched people run around after Woody Harrelson (he and Taylor, my pseudo child, hung out for awhile). And best of all, I got to catch up with one of my college roommates and her husband.

So, I had a great weekend, for which I am very grateful. But now I am tired and at home, which is good as well!

It’s 9:16 in the morning and this has been a fantastic day! I awoke to an email notifying me of acceptance of Foreseen onto a rather picky book site and another email inviting me to be a panelist and guest at a speculative fiction/movie convention this fall. By the time I made it downstairs, the sun had burned through the morning clouds, the birds were singing their hearts out, and my husband had received some good news from one of his clients. And on top of all that, my son is coming home later today to accompany me to this weekend’s Geek-A-Thon at Hanover College.

Everything this morning has been more than right. Maybe it won’t stay that way, but I sure am grateful for this moment.

Today, I am grateful for Wikipedia and in particular, the images found there. For today, I was writing a scene that occurs in the train station in Lille, Flandres, France. I’ve never been there to know if it’s old or new, light and airy or dank and dark. But then I found this:

Yes, Wikimedia makes writing easier.

I had a weird dream last night. A friend gave me a piece of rough brown paper, folded into about a 4×4 square. I opened the first fold and there were notes to me from each person in her family saying what I meant to them. I put the noted down and thanked them, nearly moved to tears by the heartfelt sentiment captured in the notes. Later on, I came back to the note and opened another fold to find another note written by different friends. They weren’t there and didn’t know the woman who’d handed me the note, but again, the sentiment was profound. This happened again and again, unfolding the note into a long strip of brown paper dotted with words of friendship.

All of the people who wrote the notes in the dreams are real people in my life. Some I see often, others not often enough. But the dream left me appreciating their friendship, support and love across the miles and years.