The newbie

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“Listen, I know you are a newbie, but I need you to get started right away. This car needs to be in Tacoma in one hour, and you are the only one available to drive it.”

I gulped. It was my first day on the job and my first assignment. I had not wanted to start this way, since I hated driving unfamiliar cars, and the tight deadline added stress to the situation. It was about 50 miles from where I was standing in Seattle to the drop-off point in Tacoma, so the tight schedule left no time for errors.

You might wonder why I was in the least worried, since I had been driving for years. I guess it is just my personal style. Usually when I am assigned a new car, I take a little time to learn the ins and outs of that particular car. Every car is different, and every car has its quirks. But with this gig, the luxury of time was not to be had.

“Is there anything in particular I should know?” I asked as I approached the little red vehicle parked on the side of the road.

“Not really, this is just a standard delivery job. If you know how to drive you should be fine. Here’s the address of the recipient, and here are the keys,” my boss said as he tossed the keys and a stack of paper my way. “The car is all gassed up and ready to go, so all you have to do is make sure it gets to Tacoma on time. I’ve got an appointment to get to, so I’ll talk to you some time next week.”

With that, I was alone with the car.

I grabbed the keys and the papers from the street where they had landed and approached the sleek little car. It was like no other I had ever seen, since it had 8 wheels while the normal car had a mere 4. Each side sported 3 wheels instead of 2, and the front and the back each had a half-sized wheel located smack dab in the center of the bumper. It was unique, that was for sure.

I opened the door and climbed inside, only to find the shock of my life. There was only one seat in the car, it had been placed smack in the middle, and there was no steering wheel! Instead, there were hundreds of un-labeled levers of all shapes and sizes covering every surface–walls, ceiling, dashboard. Only the floor remained free of the levers, which made sense, because the levers probably would have interfered with the 20 or so pedals that formed a half-circle around the seat.

I jumped out of the car and raced into the building and up the stairs. I needed someone to tell me how to drive this crazy car, what the levers were for, and which pedal did what. And I needed the help fast, since I was expected to deliver the car to Tacoma in less than an hour.

The boss was closing and locking the front door as I reached the top of the stairs.

“Do you need anything? I am just on my way to the airport. I have an important meeting I need to get to,” the boss said with a smile.

“Well,” I began, “I could use a few pointers or an instruction manual, if you have one handy. This car is a little different–”

“Instruction manual? I don’t think we have one of those. But I’ll tell you what, next week some time I’ll get one of our trainers to give you a tutorial.”

“But–”

“I’ve got to go right now, or I’ll miss my plane. I’m counting on you to get that car to Tacoma on time. I’ve heard great things about your driving ability, so I know you’ll do a wonderful job. See you next week.”

And with that parting shot, I was once again alone.

I gulped once, took a deep breath, and pulled my shoulders back. There was no way around it, I would have to figure out by myself how to drive that crazy car. And I would have to do it in the next few minutes. There was no time to think, no time to waste.

I had made a promise, and I always kept my promises.

I just hoped I made it to Tacoma in one piece, with no crashes along the way.

Frazzled

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I thought I knew myself better than that. I really did. I just don’t understand it. How can I have been out in the workforce for all these years, and not know this about myself. Especially since every job I’ve ever held was a customer-facing position. I adore working with people, so how could I not realize…

What?

Oh, sorry, I’m not trying to be rude, I have just recently acquired the habit of mumbling to myself, particularly about…

I probably shouldn’t say, it is so embarrassing. I’d rather keep it a secret.

Okay. If you insist, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you the horrible little fact I discovered about myself–if you promise not to tell anyone else. Agreed?

I’m too helpful, too empathetic for my own good. There, I said it.

What do you mean, what do I mean?

Okay, I’ll explain. Well, my current job is like no other I have ever had before. When I took the job, I had no clue that it would be so different. I certainly couldn’t tell from the job description, which read like a compilation of most of the jobs I’ve held in the past.

So I began the job full of energy and ready to learn. I loved it that the people I was to work with were so great. And the location–practically no commute at all.

Within the first week I discovered that this job brought with it stress-levels the likes of which I had not previously known existed outside of a hospital emergency room. The thought of the stress sends shivers through my body, so let us put it aside. It is the weekend after all.

Anyway, the main problem with the job lies within me. I am a fantastic librarian (humble, aren’t I), mainly because I love to help people. I get a kick out of helping people find what they need, solve their problems, and learn new skills. I adore the width and breadth of the problems, the creative solutions I must invent, the research, the face-to-face interactions.

Best of all, I could see happy faces when the need was met. It made my heart swell (in a good way) and relationships grew and were nurtured.

But in this job, the clients are never satisfied. Their insatiable thirst for more, more, more nearly drove me insane. Repeatedly I empathized with them, and bent over backwards to make them happy. Each time, it was never enough.

I wore myself out. When what I should have done was put down my foot and said ENOUGH.

Who knew empathy could be such a failing. Who would have guessed that the desire to help would be leave me frazzled.

Certainly not me!

Hack attack, again

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A couple of months ago, everybody in my contact list got an email from me telling them to go to a Canadian Pharmacy. It was a site translated into English from Russian.

Did I send the email? If you seriously ask that question, you must not know me very well. I am vehemently against spamming people with worthless information, and you will never catch me forwarding jokes, urban legends, or specious facts.

I hated that my name and email was used in this manner, so I went into my contact list and changed everyone’s contact info so that I could use the list, but no one else could.

I am so glad I did. This morning, I opened my email to find it full of “unable to deliver” messages. It seems that hotmail was hacked again, and more messages were sent out in my name.

Only this time, they didn’t go to all my friends and acquaintances. They harmlessly bounced into my email where I can delete them like the trash they are.

Take that, you hackers who pretend you are me! I will defeat your nefarious plot to, to, to…

Hmmm. I really cannot figure out what they think they are going to accomplish. World domination one link at a time?

I can’t stop all the hackers, but I feel good that I have at least done one good deed for the day.

Take care, all of you.

Those hackers are still out there…

waiting, just waiting…

for you to click…

Euphoria by writing

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I don’t know if it is endorphins, but the mental workout I get from writing makes me happy, really happy.

For the past few months, I’ve been unable to REALLY write. I’ve sat in front of the computer and typed, I’ve reread what I’ve written, and I’ve plodded along. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how long I sat there trying to write, everything was flat. In several months, I’d progressed a mere 20 pages in Fair Game.

But this morning,  my old way of seeing the story play out in my head finally came back to me. Not at first, of course, that would be too easy. I had to pay my dues with a full hour of dullness in which I almost gave up several times. Then, for some unknown but wonderful reason, the old magic that makes me love writing returned.

I am so glad I persevered, that I didn’t throw in the towel and give up writing entirely. At the end of 3 hours I had finished Chapter 3, and I had liked what I had written.

But even more importantly, at the end of 3 hours of writing I was more energized than I have been in months. I had to control the urge to dance around the house I was so happy. I love being happy.

Euphoria by writing. You can’t beat it!

Soap by any other name

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I would like to blame the Jupiterians, but I can’t. The blame is mine, all mine.

At the beginning of the week I visited Whole Foods to buy some groceries. While I was there, I decided to get some new soap for the shower. Not the bar kind, the kind that comes in a bottle with a pump.

I have a few allergies I am cautious about, so I was taking my time looking for just the right shower soap/gel. As I was browsing the shelves I spotted the words “Fragrance Free” out of the corner of my eye.

Success! One of my allergies is fragrance, and I always have a horrible time finding un-perfumed soaps and lotions. I picked up the bottle (it was a huge one) and scanned the ingredient list for one of my other allergies, nuts. Which, let me tell you, causes all sorts of problems because everyone and their brother seems to put almond oil in everything that goes on your skin.

Anyway, I was ecstatic to discover that not only was the product fragrance free, it was also nut free. I was so happy that I didn’t feel in the least bit worried to be buying such a gigantic bottle without every having tried the product before.

So every day this week I have been lathering up with my new fragrance-and-nut-free-shower-soap-with-the-pump-on-top. Only, well, the truth is there hasn’t been much lather. It was kind of a disappointment, but since I had bought a huge bottle, I was determined to get my money’s worth and use every last drop.

I don’t know how long I would have gone on, day after day, lathering up with lather-less soap. Probably quite a while, because I am a tad bit stubborn. But today I just happed to look a little harder at the bottle, which made me laugh at my own foolishness.

Me, Ms. Librarian, had failed to read the most important part of the bottle–the title (often called a label by all you non-librarians). You see, I had not bought soap at all, I had bought a giant bottle of lotion.

And I had washed with it for an entire week!

Like I said, I would love to be able to blame the Jupiterians for this little blunder, but I can’t. They left a month ago to visit relatives on what was formerly called the planet Pluto.

I wonder what the Plutonians will say when the Jupiterians spill the beans that Pluto, the homeworld of the mighty Plutonians, has been down-graded?

Wish I had a powerful telescope. I bet the fireworks will be spectacular.

A shadow in the sun

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I first saw them out of the corner of my eye. Four runners with blond hair gleaming in the sunlight. Three girls and one boy. They were so happy and carefree.

They looked to all be between the ages of 10 and 15, and they were enough alike that I immediately assumed they were from the same family. It was not quite 3:30 so I guessed they had just been released from school for the day and where hurrying home.

Traffic was heavy, but moving quickly, so I had little attention to spare for the group. Especially with the additional distraction of that glorious sun, which I had missed during the day due to my windowless office.

As I rolled down my window to enjoy a breeze, one of the runners, the boy, broke away from his crowd by shooting across a street just as the walk sign turned from walk to don’t walk. I could see the signs of frustration and stress in the shoulders of the three left behind at the curb waiting for the light to change, so I assumed they had decided to race home and the boy had “cheated” a bit by not waiting to cross with his sisters.

But traffic was still flowing, the sun was still shining, the breeze was still blowing, and it was really none of my business if the boy had an overly developed sense of competition.

The blare of a horn drew my attention back to the side of the road, and I turned my head just in time to see the boy barely being missed by a SUV. He had once again ignored the walk sign.

The thought that the boy had passed out of competitivousness and into stupidity crossed my mind a split second before, without even pausing to check the road for a break in the traffic, he shot across directly in front of me!

I slammed on my breaks in shock. My only thought was not to hit the stupid little idiot while I prayed that all the cars behind me were paying enough attention to avoid hitting me. I didn’t even have enough time to honk my horn before he safely reached the sidewalk and continued running down a side street.

He had escaped injury today. But I had to wonder if this kind of behavior was normal for him.

If so, his parents–and some driver, somewhere, sometime–was in for heartbreak.

From Viridia with love

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Dear Reviewers,

I want to thank you for all your hard work. I was feeling rather poorly, and Veronica was worried that a collapse was imminent. But you saved me, you pulled me back from the brink of death.

No, really. I felt I was going to die or something, I was so depressed. Braumaru and Cerulea had loads of reviews, but I barely had any. I thought I had been forgotten and that no one loved me.

But you showed me you cared. You read me, and then wrote some wonderful reviews about me. Your kind words helped me recover.

I especially liked the reviews written by Ann and Susan. You guys are great!

I’d better go now. Veronica doesn’t know I’m writing on her blog, and I don’t want her to find out. So let’s keep this our little secret.

It shouldn’t be hard. Veronica is so busy with her new job she hasn’t even touched her home computer in about a week. Which is what gave me the idea of taking this opportunity to thank you guys.

Like I said, let’s keep this our secret.

Shhhhhhhhhhhh.

Love,
Viridia

Available for pre-orders

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Wow. That’s about all I can say. Wow.

I was playing around on Amazon, and I found my not-yet-published new book, available for pre-order! Am I excited? You bet I am. I am ecstatic. And surprised. I thought only the high-powered big publishing house books showed up prior to publication.

Of course, it does remind me that there is still work to be done on the book. Those last minute edits have been sitting there waiting for me to complete for over a month. I really need to focus my attention back to the DTA for a bit.

But look:

Isn’t that the most beautiful sight you have ever seen?
What? Oh, you are right. There is no cover image, and no description of the book. I guess I’d better check into it, and make sure those things magically appear.
Hmmmm. It may take a little while, I don’t seem to have my magic wand handy.

Take time to stop and eat the apple blossoms

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I am just like all the rest of you, I always have twice as much to do as I have time to do it in.

Honestly, it doesn’t make sense–I am unemployed, so I should be sitting around my house all day twiddling my thumbs. Or even better I should be writing up a storm, taking advantage of this boon of extra time.

If only it worked that way! For all intents and purposes, I have no more time to write than I did when I was working at a 40+ hour a week job. Where does the time go?

Why do I worry about it so much?

Last week, the sun was shining and I felt the need to lower my stress levels. I grabbed a ball, called my schnoodle, and headed out the door. It felt great, tossing the ball across the yard so that my dog could joyously chase it. Her favorite game is to bring the ball within 2 feet of me and drop it, then to snatch it up and run when I reach for it. Her own special version of keep-away.

We played for about 30 minutes, which should have relaxed me, but did not. I still had worries wiggling around my head, cluttering it to-do lists.

It was evident I wasn’t paying close enough attention when I tossed the ball a little too high and hit the apple tree. The ball struck one of the beautiful apple blossoms that are currently decorating my yard and it fell to the ground.

Immediately, Pepper lost all interest in our game as she pounced on the blossom. In a split second, her stance went from tense anticipation of play to relaxed bliss.

And then it hit me. Here I was, frantically trying to relax, when all I really had to do was stop and smell the roses.

Or if I really wanted to follow Pepper’s example, eat the apple blossoms!

You can’t please everyone

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I have google alerts set up for each of my books, so I immediately know when a new review is posted.

Viridia was just reviewed on Amazon, and the reviewer pretty much ripped it to shreds (although she did give it 3 stars). The reviewer said “it was a conclusion of sorts” and that there was “not much else to it either”  and that the last chapter was “completely not necessary.” Whoa Nellie!

Are my feelings hurt? Of course they are. But I’ll survive.

Especially since there are other reviews, ones that don’t rip Viridia to shreds. The review posted at the end of February stated that “Behold the Eye: Viridia, the final installment of this very thrilling trilogy, is just as fantastic, suspenseful and wonderful as Behold the Eye: Braumaru and Cerulea!”

I can hardly believe that both reviews are written about the same book.

There is one consolation about the ripping-to-shreds review. The reviewer must have been more interested than she wanted to admit. She did, after all, willingly read all three of the trilogy. I went back and checked the reviews for Braumaru and Cerulea.