Friday, September 14, 2012

Fruits of Our Labors.

I have often said that I am not a multitasker. But we all are. Some of us just like it better than others. Anyone who has raised children knows there is no such as completing one task at a time. If your child is stuck, your dog has barfed, your car alarm is wailing, your smoke alarm is piercing the drop what you are doing and address the crisis. And sometimes the domino theory predicts that the smoke alarm will go off since the thing you left in order to address the stuckness, the barf or the wailing was the supper on the stove.
Well, I'm going to quit saying I'm not a multitasker. I'll just embrace my instinct for self preservation that yearns for a day of check marks on my to do list. I can't insist on getting things done in order, because that would be like yelling at umpires...fruitless. And it's all about the fruit. The fruit is the reward for the work. So writing projects that never make into the mailbox, on their way to the great publishing house in the sky, are all pruning and no harvest. Even a thoughtful rejection letter is fruit. I learn from it. I guess I learn from the one liner rejection letters, too. Not to waste my stamp on that publisher.
I am excited to be working with a publisher on a picture book right now, though we are in the early stages and the major task at hand is drumming up patience. But hey...patience is fruitful, right? And the narrative poem I wrote with Thomas Pavlechko to weave his Ghoultide Scarols into a story is being performed by several professional and civic groups this fall. Including a production we are mounting ourselves. With choir, orchestra, actors, dancers...the story is coming alive onstage. Fruit!!! And much opportunity for honing that skill of multitasking!

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